muertawrites
muerta writes.
28. carefree young hag. i put the "rot" in erotic.
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Last Seen Blogs
frzngrapes
Cherry's Letters
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Untitled
hugsohugs-liveblogs
hugsohugs liveblogs stuff
geocitiesdig
Geocities/Old Web/Webcore Sideblog
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戀愛ing視訊聊天
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take 9 because they fit better
@happylilthought and @the-ivory-rabbit y’all know what to do
10 Songs Tag Game
thank you for the tag, @sky-kiss 💋 here are ten from my recently played list
paging @atlabeth @rosewrites @onlycambions @cambion-companion @adevilyoudo @djmorn @muertawrites @hydropyro @tiefling-enjoyer @inaconstantstateofchange (sorry if you’ve already been tagged!)
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Thinking about slow and intimate love making with Eddie
His hot breath on your skin
Sloppy kisses
SLOW thrusts
Being pinned under him
He loves you SO much he just wants to be close to you
SEND HELP
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sleepy
version without blanket on priv twt
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crop from a bloodweave thing that is once again mostly focused on my favourite wizard
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Another Gale I drew today because I have no self control
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Gale of Waterdeep looking like a pinup ⚡️
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twitter | instagram | tiktok | prints
Eddie Munson for Heavy Metal! ♥️ Basically the logo from metal hammer but I wasn’t really about to make my own magazine this time - so this is fine! I absolutely struggled with this piece. I really did. But I do like how it turned out. Wanted to jump on the magazine cover train for a while now.
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-ahem-
To my fellow Galemancers/Gale-fuckers I present
Sweaty Wizard Hours
💜 enjoy 💜
The mens nightsong outfit is necessary for optimal sweaty Gale results.
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linecook!Eddie Munson x server!reader blurb
For @bewilderedbunny, my love. I've been thinking of him and you.
You’re still rubbing the sleep out of the corner of your eyes when you pull into the parking lot that is only illuminated by the light that sits above the large metal back door of the diner. The van is already in its spot. You smile at the sight, relieved that this is not a morning that will require multiple wake up calls to his trailer. The scent of frying bacon hits your nose before your foot is even planted on the linoleum floor. It’s not half as sweet as the sound of his low and quiet voice humming a tune just inside the swinging door of the kitchen. You can see him through the porthole window, hair pulled back into a bun to keep his curls from hanging over the grill, a fresh towel over his left shoulder.
You turn the corner and decide to enter through the dining room, hitting the coffee station on your way. You’re filling the brew basket with coffee grounds while your bag is still hanging on your shoulder. You flip the light switches along the wall and squint under the harsh fluorescents. You turn the corner to the kitchen to hang up your coat and bag. You can feel his eyes. You don’t look at him, you focus on making sure your jacket is hanging just right. You angle your hip in a way that would draw his attention, and feel your skin burn when you realize what you’re doing.
You clear your throat and turn to face the kitchen. Eddie’s smiling at you while he scrapes bacon up with a spatula. He mouths, “good morning” before turning around to grab a pack of hashbrowns from the freezer to cook off next. You take the opportunity to study the ink on the back of his neck. You’ve wondered about the symbol that sits between his shoulder blades and dips under his shirt. Alone in your bed at night, you think about looking at the full piece - for now it’s a mystery.
And then you’re moving through the dining room, pulling down chairs and arranging sugar packers while Eddie moves around the kitchen prepping the line for the upcoming day. You can both do this dance in your respective dreams, hands move on their own until you’re both ready for the day at the same moment. You meet at the coffee station, mugs at the ready. You fill his cup before you pour your own cup, and he hands you your jacket. You both head back through the kitchen and into the early morning darkness.
The sun is only just beginning to peek out from under the trees that line up against the back of the parking lot. In synchronized movements, you both take your seat on the edge of the walkway and put cigarettes to lips. You inhale a drag as does Eddie. You both take a long drink of coffee. It’s a ritual you both have down pat. No words are to be spoken before that first drink of coffee - but now the day can begin. You will sit on that cold and hard concrete while getting your necessary ration of nicotine and caffeine, close enough to Eddie to smell his shampoo. And you’ll get to hear the first words he’s spoken since waking, his voice still hoarse and sleepy. Intimate in an unexplainable way.
“What do you think, hm? French toast or pancakes this morning?”
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Fun date idea!
Take your vampire boyfriend to the historical art museum so he can tell you which famous figures were cunts
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