#mimimmi

[sevicia]

I would be sooo happy if I had a bf that would dry my hair for me and also that I can hug while we sleep instead of this gayass pillow . please ......

[cyb3rktty]

m going sleepies... who gonna send me rape threats while m asleep so I can wake up to them >.<

[londonfallen]

there must be some sort of brutal irony that lay between them both. more than it's pitiful, lovelorn heart, and his own that fights for every beat to persist, such would be subject of reason as to why he hardly bats an eye when it bows forward with curled lip and growl settled 'pon its tongue. all fun and games, of course : but it wouldn't dare think of hurting him now, least of all by cause of its own claws. something like that, even, makes for poor love story—and even poorer tragedy, but it's been questioning those pursuits lately too ... he stares up at it with some small amount of unimpress, and just as soon as it'd started, it wilts back, ears falling ever so slightly 'gainst its head in muted embarrassment that, in some small mercy, its voice doesn't betray. it thinks that's in part to just how he responds : firmly, if not somewhat incredulous. there's so few it can think that look upon a master of the bazaar with such a laissez-faire attitude lest they have some sort of death wish attached. it would be the manor's phantom then, it supposes, that looks back with kinder regard.

" you're quite the fascinating case, little bird, " it hums, something closer to a gravelly sound than a growl proper : its hands so far it has kept to itself, though it seems rather fixated on the prospect of wrapping them 'round him in whatever way they may be able. fingertips ghosted 'cross skin, barely grazing the thin fabric as a hand draws up from his stomach, over his chest, finally settling loosely along the line of his jaw. however hollow it may be, that too, is familiar. " tyrants, we all are. and yet i don't think i've ever seen you falter, when i take to your side. any other would be petrified. "

its confidence comes in waves. ebbing and flowing, though it always seems to make some relative effort to match the same energy he gives. it has to pretend it isn't as embarrassed as it feels : if it was blushed properly, it anticipates that it's heart may have skipped a few beats. in excitement or ... a different kind, it would be hard to tell, but as it stands it's merely grateful it's face doesn't fall hot. that'd be far more difficult to mask behind a more sultry purr as it finally seems to find itself, " oh, i have all the time in the world to offer, i assure you... " from his jaw, its hand falls to the line of his waist : what hesitance it kept in touching him seems to have fallen wayside somewhat, though there is undeniably something delicate in just how it does. improper, yes, but confident in how the ends of its claws shift along the narrow dip of his hip before they drift over the top of his thigh, bunching fabric loosely between them as if it were to fall subject the same temptation he speaks. " what a lovely dream that must have made for you, made euphoric by something you've never seen. i wonder how i must appear to you, in those pretty fantasies of yours... " it imagines it something prettier, maybe. or perhaps that he didn't see it at all, merely put together a guess from what he could comprehend—all defining features mercifully hidden 'tween the soft space of his skin, between his thighs. " mm. it doesn't matter, i suppose, so long as it ends with your pleasure. "

but nothing, nothing—! nothing keeps it from wilting, how it's the one that falters when he looks up to it and smiles. and what a goner it is, so lovestricken. blushing would be nothing but burden, the way its body stiffens for a moment as it tries to rapidly re-center itself.

" if you wouldn't mind for it, i may have some idea ... " it considers its own condition a boon in this respect, watching him with no subtle amount of concern as he lifts an arm to stifle the small fit of coughs that overcome him. there's no risk to it, being so close, and it thinks in part that's why its recent affections had become so ... difficult to bear, how they overwhelmed it. between the way its heart yearns for his attention, aches knowing the fragility, and how its body shudders at the slightest pressure 'gainst its own form, there's little denying it looks 'pon him quite fondly. it supposes that's why it feels so emboldened, then, despite the anxiety that sparks along with it, when it loops a hesitant arm around his slender waist and drifts afront him, claws following the line of his waist to hold him steady as it sways—around, and then back with steady steps, pulling him along with it- " why only keep the memory of people dancing, talking, existing in some long ago place? and if i might be so presumptuous, it would be an honor to be your first invitation, "

as its arm steadies as tenderly as it could 'round his fragile figure, its other reaches out : to loop its claws around the slight shape of his forearm, sliding down over his wrist, and eventually to curl carefully in the gaps 'tween his fingers, with a delicacy unbefitting a monster like it. and it is only a glimpse, the heavy weight of its cloaks slipping slightly from its own wrist—gaunt, and familiarly sickly skin exposed for the briefest of moments, but its grip on him is no less strong ; secure, yet strikingly delicate despite. the care it takes for him is not without noting. it takes a step back, and then another, and it expects him to stumble somewhat as it pulls him along—it is less familiar with the winding paths of the court cemetery than he, so it doesn't pull him into any dance proper ... but it also has done so little properly.

it pulls him forward, just enough to lift his arm carefully 'bove his head in the process—it's the smallest of twirls, but it guides him all the while, and by time he's come to face it once more, it's bowing to him, frail hand pulled loosely to the shadow of its lips. oh, if only he could see its face clearly! how sweetly it stares back, just to ask—

" may i have this dance, my prince? "

he almost finds it a shame he hadn't brought some of those flowers which the crows oft laid at his window : perhaps the color would have aided this miserable, macabre corner of the castle grounds, had he laid it gentle upon any of the unmarked graves. hard pressed could he be to know whom was buried where any longer, with what stones still remained standing being so horribly difficult to read after all this time. but then, what a waste of pretty flowers that would have been, too, he supposes ... he contents himself, instead, with the wily growth of a wilting tree with branches sprawling in all directions over the hallowed tombs. it should be dead too, he thinks, but bark is stronger than flesh.

"why would they bother returning home? to parents who have forsaken them, or to a brother whom risks spreading disease to their lungs. there is a reason no one spends time with me, master nests. have you forgotten?" his tone of voice may be dry, but he is not reprimanding it. it's difficult to ignore, more like, his ailing health. but consumption is not common, not anymore, not down here. he is a relic of a dying age. without their city, he'd be buried here, too. he clears his throat, and thanks god that it does not devolve into coughing much deeper. "it may be for the best. being liked by her majesty is ... perhaps more dangerous than being hated." like a dog chained to a wall, her father. the city would never see albert again, no matter how long it thrived. even he much preferred the company of shadows and bats, to the like of them.

evident, perhaps, in how he spares no shock or disgust towards its own forward advances. he minds not the space stolen from him as it pulls itself closer to him, watching the blue of its eyes shine back at him 'neath its clouded cloaks. "what could you possibly do to make me fear you? threaten to kill me?" it's ridiculous, spoken aloud. if it wanted to hurt him, it could do so in any manner : wrap its hand 'round his throat and snap his neck, or pull too hard with claws weaved 'tween strands of his hair.

he is not so boring as his life and predicament would suggest, he supposes. he is not surprised each time what little company he receives is taken off guard by his disposition : he is neither fit to be royalty, nor is he particularly good at playing the role of a dying man. so easy it would be, to return to his room, crawl 'neath his covers, and sleep 'til the reaper came for him. laughter and dreams, flirtations and fantasies, happiness and sadness alike - very much of the world expected experiences so human to be far beyond him, one foot left from this world. he differs dearly from his mother in that respect, then. he has little time left to worry for things like embarrassment, or hesitation.

" - what if i've quite a shocking amount of lecherous thoughts, mr nests? i think you'd run out of time, chasing such ecstasy. better use your time, voice and tongue would be put to between an eager maiden's thighs." he hums and bows his gaze 'way from it as it curls 'round him, the shudder 'long his body hardly so lewd as his tease may suggest, the way its claws pull at the exceedingly thin fabric of his nightgown in the process. he'd never really thought or cared much for how he presented him, but there are moments, however brief, he suspects it may be unintentionally unchaste on his part. it does not go without notice, either, however subtle, that it is far more awkward than he - as such, his smile is shockingly sweet when he looks up to it, "ah, but then i suppose it wouldn't have been your voice calling out..."

improper, certainly! he would be lying had he tried to say it were not refreshing, however. and its form practically quivers, he thinks, with some hidden desire - not so much towards the words he speaks, but rather, it seems as if it desperately wishes to remain close to him. it is comfortable at his side, yet there is a palpable yearning 'tween the two of them ... and so lovek steps closer to it, enough that his arm presses 'gainst its cloaked form. "an ailment that can be treated? well, now i'm intrigued." he coughs as he speaks, opposite arm raising to muffle the sound. it fades as quickly as it'd come. "how, then, would you seek to cure my restlessness? have you a wish to pass my time with you, my lord?"

[linkssoulmate123]

daily link posting

honk mimimmi honk mimim

this is me im always sleepy but canr sleep

[1anvi]

hrrrr mimimmi hrrrr mimimimi

[lexlovesleon]

he's such a cutie I love him so much..idk if he'd hate how much I gush about him or not 😭

I genuinely get overwhelmed by how much I love him sometimes like he's just so..eughh mimimmi..I wanna let him lay inbetween my thighs with his head on my chest whilst I stroke his hair :( I'm so normal. I'm normal about him. I wanna love himmm ugghhh

[whereisgem]

Would Gem like to take a nap on the Gengar tongue bed?

Snork mimimmi z zzzz

[the-nonchalance-blogs]

Scusate ho capito “mimimmi”

[bbluefllame]

well HURRY UP AND POST IT??? O YOU CAN SNORK MIMIMMI

IM TRYING TO FINISH IT IM SLEEPY LEAVE ME ALONEEEE🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽😞😞😞👎👎

[transmisogynistic]

It was so cold rn it felt like I couldn’t breathe. It felt like I was inhaling but I wasn’t able to actually absorb it and if didn’t go away until I got warm. Now I’m so eepy snork mimimmi don’t let the animatronics bite

[voyeur-clairvoyant]

I'm gonna invent a fucking divination system that's the floorplan of a doll house and some little dolls that represent the asker.

I throw you in the house at random.

You land in the bedroom! I see in your future snore mimimmi... snore mimimmi... snore mimimmi...

[simonandthebigwideworld]

hhOONnkk mimimmi. HOOnkc.. mimimimimiii..

[deerpun]

Sleepy sleepy time foxglove :)

[seikoary]

mk time to sleep gn mootiess

[nandinaoltrelospecchio]

Righe #mimimmi

[07170]

im realy tired goodnight honkkk shoooo mimimmi