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#he a sleepy boi
hopistaches · 9 months
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sonseulsoleil · 14 days
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Ghosts don't sleep. They don't even really get tired. At least, not tired in the way sleep would fix. When Charles first dies, he attempts to sleep, but he never can manage it. No matter how many nights he tries. Eventually he gives up.
But he never gives up asking Edwin to read to him at night. Edwin's voice as he reads is warm and steady. Comforting, even. Charles may be dead at sixteen, but he isn't alone. He thinks his best chance at falling asleep is if Edwin is there to read him a bedtime story.
It's probably silly. But Edwin doesn't seem to mind.
Edwin reads him mostly detective stories at first. Sherlock Holmes, anything by Agatha Christie, Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys, of course—which is where they get the idea for the agency in the first place. But Edwin loves books of all sorts, so it isn't long before he's branching out into other genres.
Usually it's old books. Books from before Edwin was even alive. Books Charles would've avoid reading in school. Pride and Prejudice. Frankenstein. Jane Eyre. Oliver Twist. Somehow hearing them in Edwin's voice makes them much more tolerable.
And some are fun. Treasure Island is one Charles finds himself requesting over and over again. He always liked pirates. Lord of the Rings is another favorite, although maybe Charles is just excited that Edwin finally found a book that was published after he died.
Niko introduces Edwin to much newer literature. Teen romance novels with bright covers and cutesy, wordplay titles. Edwin even reads some of the books about boys kissing boys. An adorable, pink blush creeps across his cheeks every time still, but he's getting more comfortable.
Ghosts don't sleep, or even get tired. But Charles thinks he almost gets drowsy sometimes, late at night, when their living friends are sleeping, and he is curled safely and comfortably into Edwin, listening to him read.
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schmellows · 4 months
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i started playing Love and Deepspace --
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psiithirisma · 2 years
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sbi 2006 edition ?!?!!
fun fact wilbur used to have blonde hair when he was a toddler which means two thing: 1) 4/4 sbi were blond, and 2) twins duo real bc techno also was blond when younger and later his hair turned brown like wilbur's
chart with sbi's age difference under cut!
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eddiesghxst · 1 year
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eddie sleeps hard as fuck. like the man could sleep through a tornado and not move an inch. he’s a chronic napper and he can fall asleep anywhere at anytime. if eddie is feeling sleepy, he is going to get that shut eye, no debate.
you’ll be out eating with the gang and one minute he’s yapping away about his current hyper-fixation and then the next minute you look over and he’s slumped down in the booth, head leaned against the wall with his chin tilted down and his arms crossed over his chest. you pull him to lean against you instead so his neck doesn’t hurt from craning, and when he snuggles against you he presses a soft kiss to your neck before deeply sighing as he gets comfortable and mumbles, “you smell good.“ before knocking out again. and he snores, yeah he definitely snores. and when you tell him, he gets offended and says you’re lying.
yeah that’s it. just sleepy boy eddie.
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sleepis4theweak · 7 months
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2012 Donnie.... and his big ol eyes...
No one: Donnie: 👁️ 👁️
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naffeclipse · 4 months
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What if Eclipse from AP was a naga? And this took place in the deep jungle of the amazon, where photographer y/n is trying to take pictures of the wildlife?
I'm vibrating at the speed of sound over this ask while also nudging my naga au
Naga Eclipse from AP would have the tail of a Green Anaconda, with an olive green scaly color dotted with black, framed by burning-like flares of orange along the length of his slithery body. He's also decorated with orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, slipper form. His upper half is scaley with a lithe deadliness to his musculature and decorated by frills surrounding his head with brighter orange-yellow colors, almost hypnotic in their gradient hues. One eye is deep emerald green, and one is midnight blue.
Lucky you—you're out on a once-in-a-lifetime expedition to explore a jungle closed off to the public, funded by Fazco, and occupied by two researchers who will be your bunkmates for the next few weeks. You're itching to take photos of the large river, including swamps, marshes and streams, and whatever wildlife is out there.
The few locals you did meet before you left to hike the rest of the way to what would be your new, isolated home warned you of a dangerous snake—a large, mythical beast. You take note of the local folklore. You understand the truth is hidden in there somewhere, and you are well aware of the dangers and diseases you could be met with in such a harsh environment, but you're determined.
It doesn't take long for you to feel eyes watching you when you first venture out by yourself. You take beautiful pictures of freshwater fish, big and beautiful, unlike any you have ever seen. Of course, you have hundreds of snapshots of the local flora, the trees, the floating meadows, the thick vines that drape each branch and hang thickly about the ground. You almost forget that you eerily don't feel alone.
But you swear something moves in the water—the ripples stop as soon as you look. The stillness is suddenly stiff, lifeless. Even the birds have stopped chirping.
You lower your camera and carefully put it away. A trickle of fear slips into your heart. You turn away from the river's edge only to be met by a low hiss and a creature, unlike anything you witnessed in your travels, spooling itself neatly out of the water, blocking your path to the base. An incredible creature with long arms and a great, serpentine tail that seems to stretch for yards and yards. You can hardly breathe in his presence—he's otherworldly with his frills and scales and fangs.
His eyes contain a mesmerizing shine as if staring into a fire as it burns or watching the ocean as it laps up against the beach, drawing your attention, demanding you don't look away. You couldn't anyway. Half-frozen, you struggle to keep from collapsing. He beckons with a sharp talon. He hisses softly for you to come closer, mouse. He wants to see you. You try to beg no without revealing how terribly you tremble. He doesn't let you go. He insists. His eyes flash with an allure. You almost step close when he murmurs that you need to be good.
But then your sense of survival kicks adrenaline into your heart, and you turn to run—
He strikes faster than your eyes can follow. Two loops of his green and orange tail surrounded you in an instant. You're dragged to the ground, your arms pinned under his mass, and the back of your head cradled by his large palm as powerful muscles squeeze you in the slightest—a gentle rebuke for thinking you could get away. You're hyper-aware of the terrifying bulk of muscles as you lie trapped in his coils. One strong twist and your eyes could pop out of your skull, and every bone protecting your heart and lungs would crumble to shards. You gasp. An urge to kick your legs and struggle erupts in your panic; a sinking feeling tells you it would only make things worse.
He coos over you, hissing and humming in an ancient song of the jungle you have no name for. When you whimper, he shushes you and strokes your cheek. He tells you how lovely you'll be. When you talk back to him, somehow finding your tongue amid your horror, you find out his name. Eclipse. He moves you more upright, resting you on his tail so you're not petrified by how vulnerable you feel lying down, but he never loosens his scaly bindings. He hovers over you. You gaze into his stunning frills of yellow-orange and wonder how a being like him came to exist. He studies you as you study him. He grins at how you shiver when he traces your collarbone with a sharp fingertip.
You remind yourself that you can still breathe. He hasn't crushed you—yet—but you don't like how wide his smile is. Sometimes, his jaw stretches a little too long as if dislocating from his skull, ready to devour you. His eyes gleam with a ravenousness as scales twist around you, holding you close enough to smell the slick green water he had been in and deep musk.
He tells you that he'll see you again very soon—away from other humans, lest you bring him a fine gift for a meal. You can only flex your fingers, silently pleading in your heart that he won't unhook his jaw and eat you alive.
Then, he unravels himself from your limbs. But before he lets you go entirely, he leans in close, his serpentine tongue flickering close to your neck and by your hair, tasting the air around you as you muster all your strength to not scream. He inhales deeply, pleased, before he murmurs, "Sweet mouse. You are mine. Say it."
You don't understand, but you echo his command, and when he taps your chin once in what might have been a loving gesture, you force your jelly legs to solidify before you run and run, all the way back to base. You slam the door to your room behind you. You touch your ribs, your arms, still caught in the heavy sensation of his loops as if he were upon you right now.
The stories are true—there is a giant snake in this jungle, and he wants you. You're afraid to discover if Eclipse's intrigue with you is only an exotic way to satisfy his hunger.
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nikaandtea · 1 year
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how do you tumblr? anyways have some vilbur
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koroart · 6 months
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A sleepy Mitya for my sleepy homies out there
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trobeds · 1 year
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i know the hunger games isnt about romance i know it isnt a love story but. theres just something so beautiful in the way peeta is the personification of what it means to heal and he /is/ the dandelion and the bread and the hope that things can be better even if they wont be fixed. even if the nightmares dont stop he will still hold her. wake her up and tell her shes alive. shes safe. and when its over and done and theres no more saving or protecting or trying their absolute hardest to die if it means keeping the other alive, the horrors dont stop. but katniss will still find that comfort in peetas arms.
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nthflower · 2 months
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Cuno should join Hardie boys in the future not RCM btw my unpopular hot take opinion thingie.
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leonsleftbicep · 3 months
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i feel like a victorian man.
his neck/jaw… the wisps of hair… the way the neck piece gently digs into his jugular. 😮‍💨
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mrghostrat · 2 months
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let 👏 him 👏 sleep 👏
(lineart timelapse on my $1 tier)
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psiithirisma · 2 years
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He is proud of you.
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gurinpotte · 2 months
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Please more buff aang I'm thirsty 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️
well i hope these will quench ya....
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i had wayyyy more fun with this than i should have had. i was giggling and kicking my feet nonny, it's my first time doing quenching drawings like that. i'm not that great with manly muscles so i'm sorry for the messyness and mistakes. thank you sm for this ask my dear thirsty anon! also sorry if the kataang wasn't that you expected but in this house we serve kataang at every chance
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pensymbols · 2 months
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ah yes the brook/franky/robin/jimbei polycule also known as the babysitters also known as monkey d luffys biggest enablers
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