ultimate trashboat.

mac / 18 / usa [ teen!mac from foster's home for imaginary friends ]

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[eggiisms-blog]

[ ; ; the whole world in their hands —

                    Dark brows furrowed in confusion, a crease forming between                     them as eyes studied the other boy.

                                       “Sorry, seems I made a wrong turn.” he stated as he curiously                                        eyed his surroundings. “You don’t know how t’ get t’ Cheese                                        Bridge from here, do you?”

[iimaginari-blog]

        ' cheese bri-- huh? '

                mac looks at the other boy as if he's said something                 incredibly stupid. his brow quirks, arms folding across                 his chest.

        ' sorry, there's no "cheese bridge" around here.         you must have made a lot of wrong turns! '

[unreapable-blog]

❝ Open up. ❞

it’s raining — cats & dogs & frogs & WHATEVER THE FUCK fruity new-age writers were using as analogies for rain these days — she doesn’t care. it’s cold. it’s wet. & despite being perfectly fine not even five seconds ago as she scuffed her way across rain-sodden sidewalk, the moment she’d left the sidewalk and bustled past the empty, over-grown lot next to a monstrous, georgian-styled building ( and it’s vaguely familiar, isn’t it? like an unpleasant dream set to fading upon wakefulness… ) there had been a tug, a rip, a wrench — and, swear to God, an animal-esque snarl that had ridden the wind with tenacity — before the pink plastic appendage had been crudely ripped from the girl’s arms and reduced to naught more than muddy pink streamers. 

which is why she’s wet. & cold. & banging on the door of said house, just shy of hard enough to stick her hard little fist through cracked paneling. her bus won’t be arriving for almost an hour, & she’d be rather be blessed than sit through the bathtub onslaught.

❝ Hey — hey! You in the window. Yes, you, stupid. Open the door already. It’s pouring out here.❞

[iimaginari-blog]

        calling someone 'stupid' isn't exactly a good way to get         them to open up and act kindly towards you. nor is nearly         breaking the door when slamming your fist against it so         hard the entire wall shakes. to be honest, mac has half         the mind to leave her out there in the cold and rain. before         he leaves the window, he makes sure his smirk is seen         by her. making a beeline from the window to the door, he         hoists it open to be met by the loud thundering of pouring         rain and the shivering form of a soaked girl, at least a few         years younger than himself.

                the boy doesn't bother telling her where she is, instead                 moving out of her way so she can come inside. there's                 no imaginary friends in sight, not yet. most of them are                 curled up in their rooms to keep warm since the heater                 is broken. he himself is covered in a thick sweater.

        ' you want a blanket? '

                already, he's traveling across the foyer and into the next                 room over, which he soon exits with a large quilt in hand.                 she has to be freezing. while he already thought she was                 little rude, there's no reason to let her get sick.

        ' here. '

[iimaginari-blog]

        ' welcome to foster's--uh, what brings you here? '

                he's still getting used to this whole 'working' thing.

[iimaginari-blog]

        ' whoa--are those dog ears? they've         gotta be fake, right? or are they... real? '

[iimaginari-blog]

ROBOTS OR DINOSAURS?

        ' i don't know, both are pretty cool in their ow        special way! but, uh, i'd have to pick... uh... um...        you know what, i choose both. '

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