“I’d hit that.” “You… you don’t even know them though??”
“Oh come on, everyone has a list of celebrities they’d totally have sex with if they had a chance.” “Haha yeah ok” *internally* what
"Ya so like for the past few years I’ve felt zero attraction to people I wasn’t friends with first?? Lol what’s up with that”
Why did you have to have sex with them?? Couldn’t you just hold it?? Like pee??
“You’ll meet someone who makes you feel like that someday, don’t worry” “……sounds fake but ok”
“Sex is an important part of a relationship! Everyone has sexual needs!” “….sounds fake but ok”
“Dude that girl is so hot” “I know right?? Look at her fucking eyeliner. Goals. The fuck.” “No I meant like… look at that ass” “Are we looking at the same person are you really focussing on her ass look at how visually appealing her outfit is and dont you dare fuckin tell me that eyeliner isnt fierce as hell”
“Aesthetic attraction and sexual attraction are two different things” *puzzle pieces vERY RAPIDLY FALLING INTO PLACE*
*staring at the ceiling at two-thirty in the morning* i could die a virgin and i would regret absolutely nothing
“What’s your ideal girl like?” “Uh… my best friend?” “Oh cute, you want your girlfriend to be the one who knows you best!” “No I meant I am literally only attracted to my best friend she is my ideal girl please help I am dying”
“We’ve been dating for six months and we still haven’t had sex!!” “Have you marathoned Star Wars together yet?” “Yeah we did that like two weeks ago” “Well what more do you want”
*thinking about an attractive woman* *dissecting my entire personality and sexuality to figure out why I’m attracted to her this time* is it the muscles. Oh my god is this a sex thing. Oh my god what the hell is this. Oh my god what the fuck is the wtf the fuck the fUCK
*Next day* Zarya could punch me in the face while eating me out and I’d let her but only because she’s a fictional character and therefore could literally never do that
*writing fanfic* ONLY CLOSE FRIENDS HAVE SEX BC ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE MAKES SENSE TO ME
(why is that tho. maybe i should look into that *doesnt look into it*)
“What do you find most attractive in a girl?” “Gotta love those strong emotional bonds” “No I meant like what’s a turn-on for you?” “DID I McFUCKING STUTTER”
*staring at the ceiling at two-thirty in the morning again* sexual attraction should be added to the cryptid wikia
“Yeah sex sounds like a great stress reliever and a nice way to strengthen the bonds between you and your partner(s)” “Well there’s more to it than that…” *The Arctic Monkey’s Do I Wanna Know starts playing in my head* “Haha ok buddy”
"There’s more to being ace than just not being interested in having sex or not feeling sexual attraction. In fact there’s a whole spectrum. You may even feel sexual attraction sometimes but still be ace. You can also be gay and ace at the same time.” “…bro.” “Also it’s totally normal.” *sobbing* “…bro. Bro there are words for it there’s an entire list oh my god-”
West City is a modern metropolis where both saiyans and humans live and thrive. When Bulma Briefs becomes the first human to join the police force, she quickly learns how tough it is to enforce the law. Determined to prove herself, Bulma jumps at the opportunity to solve a mysterious case. Unfortunately, that means working with Vegeta Ouji, a scam artist saiyan who makes her job even harder.
…I LITERALLY WATCHED THIS MOVIE FOR THE FIRST TIME LIKE 5 DAYS AGO HOW DID YOU KNOW MY THOUGHTS AFAFHDALKFJHLAHAL
So McGonagall announces a surprise mock-NEWT in class one day and everyone is super stressing out and Harry accidentally snaps his quill because ‘are you shitting me, NEWTs are two months away, dammit.’
And then he can’t find a spare quill anywhere in his bag and next to him Ron looks like he might burst into tears and on the table across the aisle on his other side Hermione is vigorously bunching up her hair into a top knot while reciting every Transfiguration theory they’d learnt in the past five months under her breath, her expression fierce as fuck, and just looking at her makes Harry even more nervous because what the fuck was she murmuring about Trans-Species Transformations, had they even covered that?!
But McGonagall is already coming around handing out their tests and so he turns to Malfoy who’s sitting in front of him trying to cram in five months worth of notes in thirty seconds and taps him on the shoulder with a desperate, “Baby, you got an extra quill on you?” and Malfoy simply nods before feverishly rummaging through his bag and producing a slightly ruffled eagle feather quill and handing it over with a harassed, “Here, love”, before going back to tearing through his notes.
And then Harry hears an odd squeaking sound and turns to find Ron looking at him like he’d spontaneously turned into a giant spider and it’s only then he becomes aware of his exchange with his (still secret) boyfriend. Ron genuinely looks like he’s about to faint and Draco seems none the wiser as he accepts the test from McGonagall with trembling hands.
Ron makes a strangled choking sound up at McGonagall who sighs exasperatedly as she hands Harry and Ron their tests, “Now Mr. Weasley, do pull yourself together. Today’s results won’t count for your final grade.”
And honestly Harry can’t deal with any of this now because hell he loves Draco and doesn’t care what anyone says and why do mock-NEWTs even exist, like the actual ones weren’t bad enough and Ron is still staring at him in horror and Harry just grits out a, “We’re in love, mate, alright? Now close your mouth and fucking breathe before you faint and also, did we cover Trans-Species yet?” To which Ron just croaks out a, “I don’t know anything anymore, I need to lie down.”
1. idk if you're into analyzing this type of things, but if you are, what do you think about 2009 dip and pip? i mean they started talking in the summer (i think), and by november dan was already saying that what phil's done for him was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him, that he saved him, i guess emotionally, and i just try to understand how they managed to create such a strong connection between each other in such a short time period
2. how did, whatever they have, become so special so quickly? i mean i started watching them only like 4 months ago and phil’s vids have helped me a lot already (with my anxiety and stuff), but still lol dan was just on a whole other level of poetically appreciating phil. i’m just amazed by it all and it kind of feels surreal whenever i read their old tweets or stuff like that. dan just broke up with his gf and 1 week he spent with phil was better than the rest of the year for him wow
3. oh and another thing i dont get is why was dan telling all of that to everyone like he was ‘phil phil phil phil phil everyone needs to know that /me/ and phil are spending so much time together and did i mention phil’ ’/me/ and phil were busy being happy’, it’s just?? if they’re platonic, how does one even become such good friends with someone so fast lmao
2009 is fascinating. for something to become so intense, so quickly, geez i can only imagine all the crap they’ve talked about all those months they couldn’t really see each other. i think early on there’s a combination of their tastes in common + dan’s admiration for phil + phil enjoy the attention and eventually it becomes dan learning and admiring who phil is beyond a/mazingphil + phil getting to know dan as well and admiring dan for who he is. so there was this really good connection between them that happened quickly and seemed to work perfectly since they’d spend hours and hours on skype talking about everything and doing little bits for the other?
and then dan broke up with his gf and a month later he actually met phil and that magic didn’t disappear? when they were there live? and they could touch each other? and they must’ve been nervous that first day (i mean we know phil was) because that connection they had was too good and imagine if it wasn’t as good when they were there? but then it was just as amazing and they still didn’t get tired of each other? they still wanted more? so they met again for halloween (i mean that was already planned but u know..), and kept meeting over and over again and then they spend a whole week at phil’s place, just the 2 of them? no parents around? and it’s not like dan didn’t know phil’s house already by then, it’s not like they did magical adventurous things, they like… went to the movies? and watched films? played games? and did domestic crap? and that 1 week doing nothing with phil and just phil was better than anything else that happened that year? including parties and trips? that’s WILD how having phil just for himself for a week meant more than time he spent with his ex-girlfriend whom he had loved?
and of course he wanted to brag about it (future dan def regretted this) so he’d always point out how he and phil were doing something, or how he missed phil, and phil liked to show dan off a bit too (woof) and when they couldn’t be together they’d still be skyping? and talking about ?? whatever they talked about? and they still wanted to see each other more and more. and they’d cancel plans because dan had just arrived at phil’s and they hadn’t “seen each other in ages” like? they really just wanted to spend time with each other and no one else? it’s so fucking. fascinating. how addicted they were to the other. and flash forward to 8 years later and they don’t show any signs of wanting to be apart? like. at this point, regardless of relationship status, they just don’t fucking want to live their lives without the other? “do you think you and phil are gonna be best friends forever? - that’s the plan” and they’re still following the plan? and that still seems to be the plan? it’s just 12/10 amazing
HEY YALL SO I DECIDED TO UPLOAD MY MALE BOMBERS I DID LAST NIGHT AND I KNOW ALOT OFF YALL ARE READY TO HAVE THEM ITS NOT THAT PERFECT BUT I TRIED LOL THATS WHY I DONT UPLOAD ALL MY RECOLOURS ANY WHO…….
why are su cr**ical blogs like that? you didnt get a degree at calarts, rebecca sugar did…you dont know about animation!!
i especially hate how they think literally everything is bad writing. neon colors? bad writing. an actual bad person who tried to kill the hero being bubbled? bad writing. gay ships? bad writing. its so exhausting lol
He didn’t get why the cards never seemed to be in his favor, why the world kept piling more stones upon his back. He just, couldn’t comprehend, what he had done to deserve this. Was it his jokes, the ones no one seemed to get? Or maybe his smile, that was either too bright or too flirty for anyone to handle. Or even his walk, was his shoulders too slouched or was he too tall? Was it that superficial?
Or maybe, it was just him.
Back home, he had a place and instead of the cards going against him, they built with him; his family and friends building this stack of cards that gave him a purpose. He was somebody to them, either a brother, a son, a friend, a teammate, someone. To them, he was important and valued for all that he was worth. They knew him, they understood him, they cared for him to the fullest extent.
But this wasn’t home. No, this was space; dark, empty, infinite space that did not care who he was or what he had done back on Earth. It only cared about what he could do, and out here, his talents weren’t as helpful as they once were. Even if they were, he was never given the chance to use them and despite what others would tell you, he wouldn’t try to outshine them. He didn’t deserve it.
That didn’t mean he didn’t give it his all, he did every single day of being out in this hell he used to dream of exploring. He put his heart and soul into every battle he fought, letting his desperation to protect the ones he loves to motivate him. It was never enough though. Not for them, not for Voltron.
And he didn’t know how much longer he would last out here alone. Just Lance, not only fighting evil, but also the disappointment of those around him. His hands would begin to shake just thinking about it, about the weight of his actions if he failed again. These battles weren’t the neighborhood soccer matches he would dominate back on Earth, these meant life or death.
Perhaps that’s why he finally did it. Finally broke free of the chains that began to loop around his throat and choke him.
He finally understood, that if Voltron didn’t need him.
Then Lance Sanchez sure as hell didn’t need Voltron.
Best to Worst Pens Jerseys, Ranked in No Particular Order
1. 90s Revival
A strong penguin with a determined glare, this guy will get the puck and score the goal in a down and dirty fashion. black and yellow stripes and shoulder pads cuz That 90s Look is to die for. 10/10
2. Mid 90s Gradient
This penguin is like if Lisa Frank wasnt allowed to use rainbows but had to draw a penguin, his eyes are happy and his wings are wide open for a hug. The asymmetry is courageous, some might say hideous, but they are fools. This jersey fuckin bangs, and Jagr wore it when he was captain so. 11/10
3. 90s Diagonal Fun
Hey did you forget what city the team played for? Well now youll never forget! The penguins have been relegated to the shoulders, but its still the same cartoony happy guy as always. A 5/10 jersey, not bad, but not really that great.
4. The Mid-2000s Vegas Gold Affair
Gone is the beloved black and yellow, now we have the tacky and shiny vegas gold. The penguin is somehow flatter than usual, and this is a guy who gets the puck but doesnt have the guts to fight for it, a sad penguin hiding behind a strong look. The weird diagonal ribbons are weird and tacky and this jersey sucks. 3/10
5. HEY REMEMBER WHEN THEY WERE BLUE FOR SOME REASON
I found so many versions of the weird blue jersey of the Pre-Jagr era but this one is by far the most garish. The bright yellow and the navy and bright baby blue, its like if you put a logo on a random jersey, it clearly werent designed with these colors in mind. However if you color swap and put black and gold where the blue and navy are, it isnt a bad jersey design. The penguin is very active, and his beak is hooked and his eyebrow is sassy, this is a guy who dangles the puck and makes the goalie look a fool. He celly’s loud and proud and says ‘fuck don cherry’. Gross colors, but love the idea 6/10
6. The Sad Old Jersey Crosby Got Concussed In
Do you ever see a jersey and get emotional? Me too. Especially when I look at this guy. Poor Sid man. Despite the sad association, this is an ok jersey. I dig the stripes and the round numbers, the penguin is a happy boy with a cute scarf, he’s having a fun time and just wants everyone to have a good game. The laces are pretty adorable too. 7/10 would get a onesie version for a baby.
7. The Ugliest Jersey In Existence, Yes Even Uglier Than Those Weird 90s Islander Ones With The Fisherman
I am so fucking angry this was ever approved by anyone. Who looked at those ugly as fuck sleeve vegas gold round things and thought ‘yeah this is a good look!’?????? The letters and numbers are somehow hideous and so fucking generic I hate the tiny serifs and the way it all clashes with itself. This is shit tier jersey design -1000000000000/10
8. Those Stadium Series Jerseys That Got People Mad
Pittsburgh: The City of Champions, right there in a keystone with 4 stars to represent the amount of cups won by the franchise up until that point. No triangle because you know what the fuck city this is supposed to be. The letters and numbers with pieces cut out in the most graphic fuckin cool as hell way possible. But, Somehow the penguin looks naked, he’s just floating there on the chest, he needs help he needs a stripe below him or something why does this design feel so unfinished? Overall its a cool look but, man it is in desperate need of some fine tuning. 8/10
She’s insecure and overeacting all the time, because she was a housewife her entire life and knew little about the world. But when everything falls apart, she pulled herself together immediately because she still has this sorry ass of mine to take care of. She took over my father’s company, worked through its crisis, became a manager at the age of 46 without any knowledge about construction and architecture. It means she had to learn everything from the scatch, with plenty of help from others but still, her will to raise me decently was the only motivation she has.
She’s also very beautiful and charming, which I inherited none (lol) Sometimes I think if I resemble her more perhaps I will be more attractive? She totally agree because she thinks Im so stubborn but she said Im the most beautiful creature she has ever known. She never once thought of me anything close to ugliness, ever. I’m her pride and joy.
She doesn’t believe in drawing can earn a living and pressure me to get a decent job all the time, which I did. But thats also the reason why I’m not so close to her, I dont really share much with her though I know she is there 100% for me. In her time it was so different as she was raised in war, when everyone has to struggle to survive with everything and living a dream is something unrealistic. It’s not her fault to think that way, and I understand that well.
She likes to spoil her children rotten and wants me to rely on her more. Honestly, with my tendency to be fiercely independent and lonewolf, I hate cring to others and vice versa. I am a totally ass if I feel that my freedom was restricted in any way. We fought a lot when I was younger, she wants me to stay close to her, I want to leave. I made her cry a lot. I think if its not because of her great love, anyone would have left me already. Theres no point in reasoning with people like me, but she tried her best. Now I had already left, she just learnt to accept the fact that Im all grown up and take care of my own life. She would sigh sometimes “Why do you have to be so stubborn you can have a easier life you know? I’m so worry”
She’s a super being that I can’t never compare myself to, and will always respect with all my heart.
She’s increadible, kind, strong, loving mom of mine.
i have no title for this but its angst and 707 x MC
When MC somehow got into Rika’s old apartment and logged on to their organization’s private app, Saeyoung thought she was dangerous. He thought she was a threat, so he quickly did his hacker things and investigated. Turns out, MC was a good guy; completely opposite from what he thought she was.
MC quickly joined the RFA, continuing the legacy of their ‘dead’ party organizer. She was kind to everyone, she made Jaehee pursue her dream career, and even made the corporate heir show some emotion. She made a lot of changes for the RFA.
The party that MC organized was one of their best ones yet. Tons of well-known organizations and people went and congratulated her for organizing such an extravagant party. MC was a woman of grace, intelligence, and beauty. MC, was MC. Her extraordinary self.
So when MC took interest on the self-deprecating hacker, he was confused. Why not Jumin Han? He can be possessive, but he has the wealth and everyone was very much sure that he can treat a woman right.
What about Yoosung? He’s precious. He would never dare hurt anyone.
Jaehee? Zen? V? Heck, Saeyoung thought that Elizabeth the 3rd was a better choice than him.
So, why him?
Saeyoung was forever confused as to why MC would choose somebody who is as dangerous, lazy, and broken as him. But when MC would hold him tight as he cried about his twin brother, or when she would still kiss him after he would push her away, all his insecure questions would be answered.
MC is a gem. Saeyoung, on the other hand, is a pebble. He knew he could not take care of such a precious gem.
So he decided to be stupid.
The last few days of their relationship was calm. It was like the calm before the storm. MC did not know what was gonna happen, which only made the hacker’s plan work. They were having dinner when it happened. Saeyoung vividly remembers MC’s eyes widened when he told her that he was seeing someone else. “I’m happier with her,” he said. “Much happier than I was with you.” An eery silence engulfed the dining room. Saeyoung was waiting for her to flip out, be angry at him for doing this.
Instead, he got a genuine smile from her.
The unexpected happened. She left that very night without crying. She packed her bags without a single word and left the hacker’s bunker after giving him a kiss on the cheek. Saeyoung was dumbfounded. Why didn’t she cry? Was she actually glad that he ended it? Was she seeing somebody else? The hacker’s mind was filled with questions once again. And he didn’t know whether their gonna be answered.
He never heard from her for a month until Jaehee called him late at night, sobbing, telling him that MC died due to terminal Leukemia and that they only knew of her illness just now because she didn’t want pity from others.
Saeyoung’s heart was clouded with grief as he realized why it seemed that she was glad he broke up with her. She was dying.
shitty ending, i know
im sorry for being a shitty person and not updating for heaps of months lol i promise i’ll update
also i did not edit this so dont be mad if there is errors or some shit
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.