#falling asleep on someone

[s0fter-sin]

09 ghost sleeps curled up as tight as possible; knees tucked to his chest, arms wrapped protectively around them, wedged into the corner against the wall. anything he can to try and feel secure

that doesn't change when he finally starts staying after sex with mactavish; even with mactavish there he just can't let himself relax. can’t convince himself that he’s safe

mactavish notices; of course he does, he notices everything about riley

that's why he also notices when it starts to change

months pass and riley stops tucking his arms under his legs, instead just loosely holding them to his chest. then his legs start to relax, slowly spreading out until mactavish can fit his arm between them and his chest for riley to latch onto

it takes years, unwinding muscle by muscle before he finally sleeps splayed out across the bed. he doesn't shove himself into the corner anymore

instead, he trusts mactavish; trusts him to have his back, trusts his bulk to hide him from anyone that would burst through the door

he sleeps better with mactavish's arm slung over his waist, his stomach pressing into his back and legs tangled through his own, than he ever did curled into the corner

[muzsmocsing]

Xie Lian:

Shi Qingxuan: Can we be girlies together? Please?? For the mission. We'd be sexie- I mean more effective at the task. As women. Specifically. You know like the ones with the soft, smooth skin and the pretty lashes and the big ti- I mean stronger yin energy. That would help us blend in better. As seamlessly as I'd blend your makeup BESTIE PLEASE-

[honeypleasejustkillme]

i just wanna be protected and cared for like i'm a tiny kitty with abandonment issues

[loveinhawkins]

”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they��re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

[everlarkyx]

"Secretly"

[scienceismygirlfriend]

who is your oldest blorbo, by which i mean: which of your blorbos was created the longest time ago? mine's probably archie goodwin (1934)

[thecoolsquirrel]

[starflungwaddledee]

did you remember to leave space for all your phantom limbs?

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ kirbytober 2024 #03 ★⋆ miracle // phantom // magic

[snowyroads]

he’s a sleepy guy

[guardian-angle22]

911 lone star -> 5.05 tarlos counseling scene pt. 2

[trekfacility]

[the-meme-monarch]

GUYS WHO WOULD HOLD THEIR SIBLING(S) LIKE LUGGAGE I JUST KNOW IT

EDIT: ADDITIONAL GUY ADDED REBLOG THIS VERSION INSTEAD PLEASE

[remxedmoon]

I'm not sure if you do requests however if you accept requests:

It would be great to see Siffrin stimming!

i don’t do requests at the moment, sorry!! however.

i drew this a few days ago and completely forgot to post it Anywhere. this isn’t even on the discord servers i just forgot.

[l3irdl3rain]

the government actually gave me permission to attack ppl who try to act like kill shelters are evil places that like to kill animals

[joshua-rosfields]

[mewguca]

I am having a lot of health struggles lately so i drew this to comfort myself. chronically ill moon and hunter will save me even if it doesn't make the most sense canon-wise