#AGAIN - please try again in an hour

[linoyes]

🚗

[ghost-proofbaby]

a simple life (e.m.)

summary: you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.

warnings: none except mentions of a dirty room and panties. also... a lot of nicknames. womp womp. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: just a little sweet something i wrote thinkin' about eddie while i took on the task of finally cleaning my depression room after a few months of putting it off. idk. this is boring. i'm sorry.

“Where did you even get this postcard?”

“Eddie.”

“Or what about this choker? Is that a bat? It’s a- oh my God, babe. Why don’t you ever wear this? This is hot.”

Originally, you had thought it was a good idea. Invite Eddie over, allow the body-doubling tactic to work its magic, and voila – you’d finally have the clean room you’d been talking about achieving for weeks now, within a few hours. 

“Baby,” you scold, trying to reach across the bed to snatch the necklace he’d found out of his hands. It proves to be difficult, a small pile of laundry you’d been folding hindering you. 

“Sweetheart,” he mimics right back, quick to hold the necklace out of your reach, as if you were anyone near from stealing it back from him. 

“I asked you to come over to help me, not distract me,” you sigh, crossing your arms and trying to look as pitiful as possible. When you’d first invited him over, you’d assured him that he needn’t lift a single finger. You didn’t want him here to help by aiding in throwing away any of the trash that had begun to litter your desk or taking any dirty plates to the kitchen. No, the intention had been him helping with his mere presence – quiet presence. He was supposed to be working on a new campaign for Hellfire, not being so damn nosey and going through the few items you’d tossed onto the bed from the floor, “I just recently bought that necklace, I haven’t had a chance to wear it.”

His eyes light up mischievously, a small grin tugging at his lips, “Why not wear it now, then? Perfect opportunity, yeah?” 

“I’m not fulfilling any slutty maid fantasies you have, Eddie.” 

“What if I say please?” 

You huff and decide to give up the fight about the necklace, returning back to the laundry before you. You were almost done. You were almost done after a full day of cleaning. If your adorably curious boyfriend would just stop picking at your belongings, you’d probably be able to finish within the hour. 

He stands from the small space on your bed he had made for himself, a nest of sorts that he had taken from simply curling up into for a ‘nap’ (which never happened’ to sitting up as he had just been as he clearly grew more bored with each passing moment. “Want some help with folding?” 

“You just want an excuse to get your grubby hands on my underwear,” you grumble, folding a shirt with slightly more vigor to emphasize your point.

You’re right, of course. The first article of clothing he grabs is a pair of lacy black panties. 

“Guilty,” he coos jokingly, but to your surprise, he actually folds the lingerie. Neatly, at that. With careful hands, he folds it even nicer than you would have in your haste, going as far as walking to your dresser and putting it away into the correct drawer. And then, he takes it a step further, and begins to put away the other clothing you’d already neatly wrapped up, suddenly depleting the mountain of laundry by half, “You know, I don’t mind helping you clean.”

“I already told you, you’re helping by bein-” you start to protest, hands grabbing at a random jean leg but not quite yanking it from the pile. 

He’s quick to interrupt you, taking that pair of jeans right from you, “I don’t want to just lay there while you do all the work, contrary to all the sources that say men enjoy that.”

His face isn’t quite as taunting as it had been moments before. Some of the joking has vanished, replaced by something more serious yet somehow softer. The jeans are slung over his arms, neatly halved twice before he sets them to the side and looks at you. 

Your shame is palpable, though. You’d just gotten over the embarrassment of having him over when your room would get this filthy. Disastrous in the worst of ways. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, plates left for days on any surface you could find in your laziness, coke cans and random trash littering the floor. It was embarrassing. You know he had promised to love you through the good and the ugly, but this was far uglier than he could have ever imagined signing up for. 

It was bad enough to have him see it, let alone clean it. 

“It’s embarrassing,” you finally say quietly. His head tilts, so adorable it tugs at all your heart strings, and you take it as your queue to continue in a near whisper, “It’s gross - I’m gross.” 

“Sweetheart, have you even seen my room?” he scoffs. He’s quick to shove some of the clean clothes up into a pile just enough that he can take a seat at the corner of your bed, quickly reaching out to grab your hands and guide you between his spread legs, “Shit happens. Life gets stressful, work gets busy, sometimes we just don’t feel like cleaning up. Shit happens,” his thumb is sweeping soothingly over your knuckles, clearing the impending storm you hadn’t even been aware of. Maybe he hadn’t either – a naturally caring and comforting aura has always been his thing rather than yours, “Out of everyone in this world, I am the least qualified to judge you.” 

You don’t really understand it. How he can sit there, looking up at you so dreamily when the two of you are situated in the middle of your still unkempt room, your neck still chilled with a layer of sweat and your hair tumbling out of the bun you hadn’t properly secured. But he is. He’s looking at you not as if he doesn’t see the mess, both of the room and of yourself, but as if he does and simply doesn’t care. 

“Besides,” his lips are splitting with another grin, his hands squeezing your hands three times, “It’s kind of domestic. ‘M kind of into it.” 

“Me? Doing laundry?” you snort, blinking away any fears that had crept up. It’s hard to feel inadequate with his eyes on you, spilling so many sweet nothings like it’s just another casual Tuesday conversation and not the fuel to your beating heart, “Didn’t you just say you don’t want to just sit and-”

“Us,” he cuts you off in correction, “Us doing laundry.”

“You… like the thought of doing laundry with me?” you say slowly, carefully, unsure of the words as they fall from your lips. 

Doing laundry sounded like the least romantic thing the two of you could ever partake in. 

“I like the thought of doing laundry with you,” he repeats with a nod, “I like the thought of doing laundry with you, of doing dishes together after we just made the world's most mediocre dinner ever, of you complaining when I won’t get up so you can make the bed on the weekend,” he tugs you even closer. You have no choice but to let a knee fall to each side of his hips, straddling his lap as he wraps his arms around you and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to one of your collar bones, “Call me cheesy. I like the thought of a simple life, but only if it’s with you.” 

Something warms inside of you. The thought of a life of simplicity, of lazy mornings and boring afternoons, all brightened up by the boy in front of you. A boy who creates magical worlds with his words on a weekly basis, a boy obsessed with fantasy novels and all things adventurous, who wants his greatest life adventure to just be a mundane lifetime with you. 

You can imagine it would be anything but mundane with Eddie, but the tranquility still exists and blankets the two of you. 

You lift a hand, carding it through his scalp, careful not to let your fingers snag on his messy curls, “Does this mean you’ll do your taxes with me next week?” 

With a quick snort, he buries his face into your chest, shaking his head furiously, “Don’t push it, sweetheart.” 

You know he will, though. He’ll help you fold the laundry, he’ll help you wash the dishes, and he’ll certainly sit through the dreadful hours of doing taxes if they’re spent with you. 

A few beats of silence. His arms have wrapped just right so that his warm palm presses into your lower back, the other hand tracing a mindless circle over your shirt a few inches higher. Your breathing matches his, fingers rubbing a matching pattern into his scalp that has him humming periodically.

The laundry will get done eventually, but it can wait. For now, you just want to hold your boy, and let him hold you. 

“It’s a date,” he finally gives in, voice muffled, making you smile widely, “I’ll light candles and everything, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

[heartorbit]

i would advise against sneaking a bunch of silly billies into your castle

[catboydan]

my very specific prediction for the upcoming AITA video: he'll open by explaining that last week on the gaming channel he had an 'AITA' moment himself [insert clips from the dan eye incident here]

then he'll lead into the vid by saying something like "and that inspired me to ask you all for your 'am I the hole' moments", and only then will he bring up that this time, he asked for specifically dating/love-related stories, leaving us to piece together that the intro is a dating/love related story via the maxim of relevance

[marblerose-rue]

new lioden king except ive had him for a couple weeks :-)

[cerise-on-top]

When Simon wants some cuddles he'll rarely ever actually ask for them. Instead he'll simply sit on the couch, wait for you to come by and get close to him, and strike. And by "strike" I mean he'll pull you onto his lap. Doesn't matter if you're tiny or if you're even taller than he is, you will be put on his lap. And then he'll just hold you, his hands roaming all over your body so he can get a good feel of you. If you're wearing a shirt then he'll slip his hand underneath it to have skin contact with you. And if you're chubby? Yeah, he's squeezing your tummy, no matter how much you protest. There's just something so incredibly nice about holding a soft tummy. He'll hold you close and give you lots and lots of kisses on your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, wherever he can reach, really. He hates having to admit weakness, which means he also hates asking for cuddles. But he still wants to touch you and be close to you, so he has to be courageous and do something anyway. He'll try to seem like the "strong, dominant type" from time to time, even if he would love for you to hold him. Cradle his face in your hands and he'll become the softest version of himself.

[crazymecjc]

a modern prometheus.

[raptorian]

Scene from With a Chip in his Shoulder by @strawhatsanddelibirds on Ao3, going back and rereading my fav Sebastian (not Eustace, sorry) fics now that I have AAI2 brainrot.

Highly recommend you check it out!!!

[misspoetree]

+ Bonus:

KinnPorsche + Text Posts: Porsche Edition - Part II

Bonus: Porsche being an empath

[Character Editions: Pete Part I & II | Tay | Vegas Part I & II & III | Tankhun Part I & II | Porsche - Part I | Kinn Part I & II | Kim | Big | Porchay | Chan | Macau | Pol]

[Themed Editions: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | ?]

[Episode Editions]

[57sfinest]

also yall we need to step back from the harryvision and understand that kim, at his core, is a loser (affectionate) like everyone else. so much out there wants to portray him as limitless patience, great cook, super organized, good handwriting, nice tasteful living quarters etc and that's fun to contrast him to harry but well i am here to RUIN that we need to take off the du bois glasses and appreciate kim for the weirdguy that he is. he has horrific fits of road rage and harry genuinely fears for his life riding along with him and witnessing the generational curses this man is capable of unleashing upon the stupid little fucks that cut him off on the 8/81. he has never had the time or space or budget to learn to cook so he lives off deli sandwiches and butter noodles and the occasional grab-and-go fruit. he writes so much so frequently with such awful handwriting that he has invented a new form of shorthand and the moralintern is contacting him to create a cipher system for them. he has no resources to furnish and maintain a nice flat so it's like a slightly gentrified r/malelivingspace but with a table for his sewing machine and there's scrap fabric and thread and half-pinned half-hemmed pants strewn about the place. there are absolutely a bunch of shitty mockups of his old wirral character in the backs of his notebooks and he hasn't played it in years but if he ever picks it back up then his minmax high int high dex definitely-not-a-self-insert sidhe artificer is READY. everyone add your weirdguy kim thoughts NOW 👇

[moeblob]

You know, when I kept getting asked "so you didn't ever have severe pains before now?" in the hospital and I kept replying "I have a high pain tolerance" I meant it. However, there is only so much pain my tiny 4'9" body can hold... (aka I am sweating and in agony bc I'm getting told to use LESS severe pain meds so I don't rely on them too much and it is AWFUL)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

Aw, don't worry Peppino, we have no intention of hurting anyone!

[Gently and in a friendly pat on the shoulder]

Moreover, with our new abilities, we could help you with your work, if you need it of course :]

Peppino: "Oh no no, yeah, it's fine! There's a bunch of disembodied hands floating around and touching me, this is fine!"

Peppino: "Jeez! Is it hot in here, or is it just me!?"

Gustavo: (If I had a nickel every time this happened...)

Pep: "...Mrr...?"

Pep: "...!"

Pep: "Doog ton! Doog ton! Onippep rof hcum oot ekam! Revo- Revo ot yrt ton od esaelp- Sdneirf on on on!"

Peppino: "!?"

Gustavo: "... Thanks, Brick."

Pep: "..."

Gustavo: "-Alright, just breathe. It's okay, we got you."

Pep: "Um... Really sorry, Peppino and Gustavo..."

Peppino: "It's alright, Pep. It wasn't your fault."

Pep: "Is Peppino... Mad at friends...? Gustavo... Mad at friends...?"

Peppino: "No no, I'm not mad! It was-a just... A lot all at once..."

Gustavo: "They were just excited and wanted to help! I can't be mad at the enthusiasm!"

Pep: "... Okay..."

Peppino: "Look Pep, it's alright. We're all okay now. I don't-a mind if your friends want to help, we just might need to put some rules down to avoid anyone getting overwhelmed again."

Pep: "... Okay..."

Peppino: "We can talk to your friends. You can rest with Brick again, yeah?"

Pep: "... Yes."

(Do not worry, your hands are not gone forever! Just temporarily unsummoned by the master controls Pep somehow button mashed to.)

[roseandbee]

Happy Halloween 🎃

[ra-vio]

Kainé, my beloved u_u

[arsenicflame]

ive had to step away from all the analysis of the finale because thinking about it for too long it fills me with such a [rage? bitterness? frustration? all of the above?] the likes of which ive genuinely never felt for a show before

ive cared about media before. ive been disappointed by media before, but i think the difference is i haven't put my faith in media like i did ofmd- and the more time passes the more i feel fucking stupid for putting that faith in the show in the first place, when so many of the things coming to light now were already there

i cant think about it too long else it makes me so fucking sad, and im tired of analysing it to bits because its not going to change anything, theres no way to fix any of this, no way to find a spark of light in it, no way to come back, to resurrect the show i fucking loved.

im sure everything everyone is saying is well thought out and nuanced things but for the sake of my own enjoyment of this fucking show i have to just not engage with it anymore.