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[sweenuewerewolf498]

Good mogning✌️

🔞 Contact me/my (18+) content here: click👉 jennifer.sullivan 🔞

[sweenuewerewolf498]

Bev is the first one to say anything about it, one night as she and Ben are leaving Richie’s house:

“Did you notice how fucking cold his house was tonight?”

Ben chuckles, draping an arm around Bev and running his other hand over shoulder as if to warm her. “Richie always complains about being cold. That must be an Eddie thing.”

“Can you imagine the thermostat wars they probably have?” She snorts. “Oh, God. I know they’re best friends, but it can’t be easy having a roommate in your forties like this.”

It comes up again when Mike and Bill, Bev and Ben are video chatting with Stan ahead of his visit to Los Angeles.

“Don’t forget to pack a sweater,” Mike jokes, while Bill snorts a laugh into his shoulder.

Stan’s frown deepens as Bev solemnly nods in agreement. “What, is LA in a cold front I didn’t hear about, or something?” he asks.

“Richie keeps his house like a fucking refrigerator now that Eddie’s living there,” Bill explains, lifting his head off of Mike’s arm to arch an eyebrow at the camera.

“It’s like an ice skating rink!” Bev confirms. “My money is on this being one of the concessions Richie makes to stay alive. He lets Eddie pick the house temperature, and Eddie doesn’t murder him for not sorting the laundry by color.”

“It’s like college living, but with old people problems,” Mike jokes.

Ben shakes his head gently while the others laugh. “Stan, you’re the first one to get the inside view of what they’re like as roommates. None of us have ever stayed over at their place, so you gotta be the one to report back to us.”

“Yeah,” Bill adds, “like, how long do they fight in the morning about almond milk versus cream and sugar in their coffee?”

Stan smirks as the other Losers continue their howling laughter and speculation through the screens. “I’ll keep you folks updated,” he responds.

It turns out Richie does keep his house pretty cold, but he compensates by wearing a hoodie even though LA is blazing outside. Stan adores the two of them so much that he can’t be too bothered by the temperature; Richie and Eddie bicker and play-fight and joke so much that Stan feels like a kid again, and he just soaks up every second of their first day together. At the end of the night, his heart is full as they all say good night, Richie heading off to his bedroom, Eddie to the guest room he’d claimed as his own, and Stan to the final remaining guest room.

(If he’d spent all night catching the glimmer in Richie’s eye whenever he looked at Eddie, if he noticed how Richie wore the same expression around Eddie that he’d worn as a lovesick twelve year old, that was Stan’s business to keep to himself.)

The next morning, when Stan wakes up, he sees that the door to Eddie’s room is open, the bed neatly made and Eddie himself gone.

If Eddie and I are up, Trashmouth can get up now, too, he thinks to himself, listening for just a moment outside Richie’s door for any incriminating jerk-off noises before he quietly steps inside.

Immediately Stan freezes, everything clicking into place. Richie is bundled up in his hoodie under a thick comforter and luxurious-looking throw blanket. One arm grips the pillow, smushing it to his face, which is relaxed and vulnerable-looking. He snores softly, just quiet snuffling noises, burrowed into the blanket like a sleeping child.

Behind him, Eddie is dressed in an equally cozy-looking sweater, his face pressed to Richie’s back. He’s spooning Richie, holding onto him so tightly, one hand pressed to the center of Richie’s chest like he wants to keep watch over Richie’s heart for safekeeping.

Stan melts a little, wondering why they’re still keeping it a secret from their friends but also feeling an immense sense of peace wash over him, like finally, like this feels right, like you fucking deserve this, Trashmouth.

From the bed, Stan hears a sleep-scratchy “Don’t tell the others yet” from Eddie, whose arms squeeze Richie tighter as the movement of the blankets suggests he’s looping a leg over top of Richie’s.

Octopus, Stan thinks fondly, throwing a little salute toward Eddie though he knows he can’t see him with his eyes closed. He backs out of the room and shuts the door carefully, heading downstairs to fetch some coffee and start his day.

[sweenuewerewolf498]

Im crazy and intoxicated

[sweenuewerewolf498]

I Will Not Apologize

Happy Pride, ya'll.

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[sweenuewerewolf498]

Passing By ‘Need For Speed: Porsche Unleashed’ PlayStation

[sweenuewerewolf498]

Hi! I’m moving my comics and art over to a separate blog, so if you want to see that, feel free to head over there! The new blog’s name is the-inksomniac-writer-and-artist. Sorry for the inconvenience!

[sweenuewerewolf498]

On the evening of the third day, the wisest monk descended from the mountain. He said "You can make a simple Mac and cheese by boiling pasta in half-n-half, grating in cheese, and stirring until it makes the sloppy sound." And then god took him away forever.

[sweenuewerewolf498]

The fact that tumblr is my primary social media is proof that I’m far gone

[sweenuewerewolf498]

Britain is already one-upping the Wonka scam by making the LEGO Dashcon ballpit real

an extra hour in the brick pit

[sweenuewerewolf498]