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gluskineddie · 9 years
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This is so precious it needs its own post.
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gluskineddie · 9 years
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 do not leave flowers at my grave         do not cry for me ; do not weep ; do not scream               my bones rumble underneath the soil ; under your feet ;                                                            ————my corpse steams awake
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gluskineddie · 9 years
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((fandom protocol dictates that u must draw the trash husband at least once a week. I have been negligent, so have a sloppy Ed doodle.))
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gluskineddie · 9 years
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some scribbles.
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gluskineddie · 9 years
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RP tagging game | Tagged by: ruvikscube
Name of your muse. Edward Gluskin.
One picture you like of your muse’s fc. 
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Two headcanons you have for your muse that you never told anyone.   Before the treatments with the Morphogenic Engline, Eddie was slowly gaining his memories back. A lot of them were coming back in flashes. Some were coming back with triggers. Even after the treatments, there are some things he remembers about his past. Yet he still refuses to speak of them. -- He believes that eventually, with time, he'll find the perfect bride. Waylon could have been her, but with his constant fighting back, Eddie knew she was too good to be true. Before going to Mount Massive, he would push himself to enter the dating scene. Wasn't a great idea, but it taught him the behaviors of the people around him. He's still looking for his perfect wife.
Three things that your muse loves doing in their free time.  There's not much he loves doing that tops sewing. He can make you an outfit from just about anything given to him. Sewing calms his mind and helps him think. --Listening to music is another thing he loves to do in his free time, even though it ties in with him working.
Four people that your muse loves.
He doesn't have anyone anymore. No bride satisfys his lust for human companionship. To him, love is a goal he has to achieve, even if it's by force.
Three fond childhood memories.   HOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-- what fond childhood memories? --The only one he can remember is sharing a milkshake with a faceless woman. Her smile is what he remembers most about it.
Two things your muse regrets.   He regrets allowing Waylon get away from him. Perhaps, if he were a bit more gentle on his approach, maybe things would have gone a bit more smoother in their introduction.
One thing they’d go through heaven or hell to save/change.   Himself (basically). If only he had stayed to himself. If only he had kept usual silent tabs on his bridal shop rather than using it as a hunting ground... If only he had worked with his therapists to declutter his mind, he wouldn't be stuck in such a shit hole deemed as Mount Massive.
Tag ten people to do the same
I tag: i don't really thread with many people so these jerks mxdousa || koszonet || sanctumadducantur || and anyone else who wants to.
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gluskineddie · 9 years
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❛Our home,❜ He corrected, with slight chuckle.
       On his clear cheeks, dimples formed from the smile that bit           at his lips. Cute as she was silly-- he loved it. As his shoulders           relaxed, his eyes became taut... almost as if he could feel the           tenseness building up in her. Alas, he believed she may have           been sneaking someone away. Hopefully not.
❛You look like you've seen a ghost. What ails you?❜
         { Immediately her sorrows                were put on hold. Her teary pale blue orbs slowly moved to                settle on the figure of the stranger, his appearance alone                made Michael almost believe that her beloved ice cream had                been fouled with some form of drug. When sniffing the                container for any suspicious scents provided no such clues                she hopped to her feet, poised to run if she needed to. }
                           “ Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”
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gluskineddie · 9 years
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       He had not stumbled into the wrong home. For all he knew,          this was his home. With each gentle step, his fingers skimmed          the texture of the walls. Hearing the wails of the woman within          the other room, he paused as a smile took his lips.
❛There is no need to cry, my love.❜
[ open starter ]
                           “ Noooooooo, Mufasaaaaaaa!”
         { Michael sobbed out                loud, throwing a pillow at the television before shoving another                spoonful of vanilla ice cream into her mouth. Little sobs still                coming out in the form of muffled whimpers and sniffles. }
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gluskineddie · 9 years
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eddie 2 by zep-hindle
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gluskineddie · 9 years
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ugh you kill a few people on a camping trip and suddenly everyone calls you a “murderer” i’m so sick of labels
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gluskineddie · 9 years
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--ooc; I miss being on here, but it's a bit hard keeping this blog as active as I want.
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gluskineddie · 10 years
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Inspired by this lovely work. It made me want to draw him again.
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gluskineddie · 10 years
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gluskineddie · 10 years
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Hello, darling :*
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gluskineddie · 10 years
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Несколько “крылатых фраз” )
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gluskineddie · 10 years
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                    ❝When I was a boy my mother often said to me,                            get married son and see how happy you will be.❞
Indie, Semi-Private Outlast RP Blog
                  ► Blog can and will be NSFW and will be extremely                                triggering to some. Recommended to be 18+.                   ► Mun is 21+ and is willing to thread violent threads.                   ► Several years of rp background.                    ► Always willing to do one-liners to novella.  
                    ❝You'd rather... Rather die than be with me?❞
Inquire ✖ Mun ✖ Groom ✖ Blog
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gluskineddie · 10 years
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       These games grew ever so tiresome. Though his fingers          curled into his palm in slight frustration, he pulled at tables with          the other. Treacherous other-- he knew it. She was hiding some-          thing from him, and he was damn sure to find it.
         He paused in his steps, eyes scanning the darkened environment          around him. Eddie grew silent, slowing his stride to peek beneath          boxes and behind stacks of garbage. Yet, a desk pulled at his attention--          dusty and old. No. There was no way-- A knock. A harsh knock on          the top, freeing just enough dirt into the air.
         Crouching, he peeked under. Nothing. No soul. No body. Simply          unsettled dust.
❝My dear. Hiding get's you nowhere. Please, I won't ask again.❞
         --And nothing says now like a flipped oak wood desk.
Miles had one hand pressed over his mouth and the other braced against the wall next to him to support his awkward-at-best position of hiding. He was mashed up behind debris and a desk the had been tossed aside, crouching low to stay out of sight. There were no visible exits from here, so he would have to wait until he could somehow get around the groom.
If he didn’t find him first. 
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gluskineddie · 10 years
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❝Oh, how I've missed all of this. I do hope my welcome is warm.❞
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