#pure imagination

[lennadanvers]

Pure Imagination: sleeping in his bed

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie knows how you look when you’re sleeping. He saw you once.

It was winter. He remembers because he had been very, very cold. Everything outside was covered in snow, and his jacket was hanging, wet, on the back of his chair. His sweater wasn’t enough to keep him from shivering, but Eddie didn’t want to tell Wayne his old coat didn’t fit him anymore. All his paycheck was destined to keeping the heater in the trailer working anyway. So he was stuck being cold until he could save enough money to get a new one. It was already hard for him to focus in class as is, but the temperature made it impossible that day. So he started to look around for a distraction.

His eyes moved, as usual, towards your seat. He was lucky enough to have taken over a desk in the same row as you. On days like this, he was thankful people avoided sitting next to him.

You were wearing a fluffy jacket. It looked so soft and comfortable. He wondered how it would feel against his face. His eyes traveled along your side. High-waisted jeans, teddy bear jacket, arms on your desk, closed eyes…

You were asleep.

It didn’t feel like one of those scenes in movies where the pretty girl is sleeping and the guy stares at her delicate, perfectly calm face. You were pretty, of course. And he was staring. But you were actually relaxed. Your eyebrows had dropped (weird, because they were one of your most expressive features). Your cheek was flushed, and he was relieved to know your jacket did keep you from the cold he was enduring. Your mouth was a little open, and your hair was falling in messy strands everywhere.

It made his heart ache, how you could let your guard down enough to be vulnerable in a place like this. Full of people. Some of which could be pretty cruel. Most of which kept quiet and let it happen. Eddie shivered again.

But he wasn’t cold anymore.

That’s his favorite inspiration for days like this one. When he has stayed late at the shop, working in a car that refuses to start. He’s covered in grime, his nails black with grease. He put his hair in a ponytail this morning, and it’s giving him a headache now. Eddie needs a shower and some food, but just thinking of cold water and microwave dinner makes him want to cry a little.

He takes off his boots and walks in silence to his room. Everything is dark, and he takes a second to listen. Yeah, there it is. That sounds like your breathing, doesn’t it? It’s definitely not the wind. He nods to himself and turns the light on. Eddie didn’t make his bed before leaving, and the messy sheets look like a poor excuse of a nest.

It’s missing something.

Eddie blinks and there you are, yet again. Your hair is a disaster, all over his pillow. Your legs are at a weird angle, feet under the covers, hips flush against the mattress. Those pajama shorts are a little too short, and he can see your ass peeking out. One arm in trapped under your ribs, the other next to your face.

Your face. There’s a couple lines where it was pressed against the sheets. Your mouth isn’t closed all the way, and your eyebrows are messy. You’re not wearing any makeup. No lipstick or gloss, your lips completely naked. Your eyes look smaller without mascara and eyeliner, and your cheeks are flushed in a less-than-delicate-way.

Eddie stays at the door. He’s so lucky you let your guard down like this around him. You feel safe in his bed, don’t you? Beautiful. His sheets will smell like you when he gets in, warm and welcoming. He’ll lay his head next to your neck. He’ll look just as imperfect as you when he falls asleep.

Eddie stares at his empty bed before smiling to himself and stepping out, back to the hallway. He’s found the energy to go take a shower, after all.

Masterlist

Taglist: @whataboutbibi @hellfirenacht @daisyridleyss

[jasper-j]

(Mostly) completed!! Took me awhile due to lack of motivation, but ey, not too shabby.

[rikk-tikki-tav]

Wonka, 2023

If use, please like and/or reblog

+ Small bonus:

[chalamet-chalamet]

Awwww a snippet of Timothée singing “Pure Imagination”

Thanks to wantarosee on Twitter

[fionaapplerocks]

I'd forgotten all about this shorter edit of Pure Imagination [x]

[moistbreezy]

PURE IMAGINATION

THE DEBUT ALBUM FROM MOISTBREEZY

MAY 5

Pre-order the vinyl and digital at moistbreezy.com

Cover shot by Joyce Charat

GFX & edit by moistbreezy

[hopelesslysleepy]

If you want to view paradise

Simply look around and view it

[nikoruusprite]

me when I eat wax (ñomñom)

THIS IS MY FAV FILM LIKE MY ENTIRE SOUL SHINE WHEN I WATCH IT AHHH

[dungeons-and-dictions]

It’s Analysis Friday! Who’s seen Wonka? I love that it keeps to the original film’s spirit. There’s so many delicious connections to the book and both movie adaptations. Let’s gooooo

Overall, this musical prequel has really hit home by creating many parallels to Charlie. Some striking ones:

Wonka shares his chocolate (his mom’s homemade one) with his found family; Charlie shares with his family.

The Chocolate Cartel is a mirroring of the four bratty children Charlie has to compete against.

Wonka and Charlie were both in poor families and received chocolate once a year

Both are big dreamers

I also love that many small touches add to the depth seen in earlier movies:

The 5 people who help him get his business started inspired him to have 5 golden tickets when searching for an heir.

The golden ticket itself was inspired by a message Wonka’s mom wrote on some gold leaf inside her chocolate’s wrapper

Wonka lived in a house boat as a kid, which explains the chocolate river and the boat.

He got the crazy long fine print on a contract from Mrs. Scrubbit

And finally, the most heart-warming: “the man who suddenly got everything he wanted lived happily ever after”. Wonka makes this happen for Noodle, and does it again for Charlie.

[lennadanvers]

Pure Imagination: braiding his hair

This has been sitting in my drafts for too ling and I'm not sure how much I like it anymore. Still, Eddie is a smol overstimulated boy with sensory issues and he deserves comfort. Thanks for reading, please consider reblogging and/or commenting on top of liking, it makes me kick my feet and squeak.

Sometimes, Eddie hurts himself. Not physically, but his head just spits horrible thoughts at him. He has to find something to soothe the hurt.

On days like that, he gets easily frustrated. He opens the cabinets, and there is no coffee left. He goes out and the van doesn’t turn on until after the fifth try. The store is closed- he doesn’t even take the time to read why in the little note hanging by the door.

When he gets home, he takes a shower, maybe that’ll make him feel better. It doesn’t. Eddie comes out of the bathroom with his hair all tangled and dripping down the back of his t-shirt. He’s frustrated, angry just because, tired and wants to punch his bed until it’s all out. But he’s learned that it won’t fix anything.

So he closes his eyes and drops the towel next to his bare feet. Takes a deep breath. In. His eyebrows relax, his shoulders go down. Out. His belly goes soft.

Your hands hold his. Thumbs going in circles, you ground him. In. Out. You breathe with him. Eddie can feel the air that leaves you caressing his neck. He sighs.

“Come on, Eddie” you direct him to his bed. “Sit down here. I’ll take care of it, it'll be alright.”

He knows.

Eddie does as the invisible version of you says. He bows and lets his body fall on the floor, back against his bed. He shivers when he feels the rough carpet scratching his thighs. It’s almost worse than the jeans he chose not to put on. At least he’s wearing boxers.

He bites his lip. In. Out.

Eddie raises his your hand and lets it softly fall on top of the wet mess that is currently his head. In. Out. You’re sitting on his bed, behind him. It feels like you’re caressing his hair more than detangling it. One curl at a time. He focuses on you.

Eddie finds your smell comforting. Sometimes he feels like a creep for thinking about it. For knowing your scent. But it was a huge help, back in school. When Eddie was having a bad day, he prayed he would walk past you in the hallways at Hawkins High. If he had class with you that day, Eddie knew he was saved.

He'd sit as close to you as possible. When Eddie he's having a bad day, it’s like his senses are heightened; so it was usually enough. He’d close his eyes, trying to ignore the awful yellow of the lights, the way his skin was crawling under his jeans, the screeching of chairs, the teenage laughs and any disgusting high school smell. Except yours, of course, that wasn’t disgusting at all. It was subtle. Soft. Not overwhelming, unlike literally everything else. Calming. Warm. Quiet.

When the world was horrible, rough, when it felt like his skin was raw and the noise made his nerves stand on edge, your smell was like a calming bubble. A balm for his soul. Maybe you didn’t really wear perfume, he isn’t sure, even after all these years. Maybe it was just your lotion, your conditioner, you. He had never been able to find either of those at the supermarket.

Your scent was a shelter for his stray senses. He used to spend the whole class calming down. After breathing you in, he felt like a person again. Like he was the owner of his own body.

Surviving the day after that was easy. He was horribly tired, of course, but felt a soft relaxation.

That’s what Eddie is desperate to feel now.

The detangling starts at the end of his hair, little droplets of water falling all over him (in, out). Fingers getting caught on small knots, gentle pulling, soft caress. One strand free. Wet skin, soft hair; in, out, another strand. Eddie slowly melts against whatever surface is there to carry his weight. The bed behind him is soft, it could easily be mistaken for your legs. And the hum of the neighbor’s AC sounds like your voice whispering something. Yes, definitely. Fingers, water, strand. In. Out.

Once his damp hair is (mostly) free of unnerving knots and falling over Eddie’s shoulders (in, out), it is separated on three wavy strands. You know how keeping it tied up in buns or ponytails bothers him sometimes. How the weight of his hair on top of his thoughts is just too much. In and out; your patient hands are braiding his hair away. Finally, it’s not dripping anymore. His shoulders are free. Eddie sighs.

Your perfect hands finish the braid and he’s never felt more thankful. He lets his body fall to the side and his cheek lands on the bed your lap, where it’s soft and safe. Eddie falls asleep like that. The next time he sees you (at the grocery store parking lot, are you in town just for the holidays?), Eddie has to stop himself from shouting “Thank you, mighty lady!” out of his van’s window.

Pure Imagination Masterlist

Taglist: @hellfirenacht @whataboutbibi @daisyridleyss

[showmethesneer]

Can I just say, Wonka was genuinely a beautiful movie, so charming, and the use of Pure Imagination WRECKED me. I love how it was subtlely sprinkled throughout but the part at the end made my heart stop. Soooooo good.

[my3imaginary3wonderland]

I JUST SAW WONKA AND THE ENDING SONG REMINDED ME OF “PURE IMAGINATION” BY FIONA APPLE 😭💕

Edit: IT IS ACTUALLY A COVER 🤧💗

[chalamet-chalamet]

“Don’t be shy, it’s all right…” 🎶 🎩💜🍫✨

IG credit to wdie24

[mafaldaknows]

That daily fail article though. "Other people would love to break up what they have". And what is that exactly? A pr contract? Do other women want to beard for Timmy as well? Don't worry ladies. I'm sure you will all get your turn.😂😂

Hello, Anon:

How can “other people” break up something that doesn’t even exist, except perhaps in one’s own imagination?

Thanks for your comment. 🤡🤷🏻‍♀️🥸

[moistbreezy]

THIS SATURDAY: NYC

come celebrate the release of my new album PURE IMAGINATION with me and a killer line up of DJs 🎧🎶

hulaHOOP presents: moistbreezy PURE IMAGINATION Release Party

SATURDAY MAY 13

11 PM - 4 AM

Trans Pecos

with music from:

MIMI ZIMA

Seimei

WTCHCRFT

THELIMITDOESNOTEXIST

& moistbreezy

TICKETS: https://ra.co/events/1685200