#and then we become no better then the cops

[chelseeebe]

timeless

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of drugs. no use of y/n!

you find yourself back in hawkins, with nothing but your grandad’s old diner and a bunch of conflicted feelings about your old best friend, can you say goodbye to him all over again?

a/n: set in the 80s but also the 50s idk i just wanted that old timey feeling pretty long fic i was originally going to split up but decided against.. hope you read it and enjoy anyway:)

⋆ and you were headed off to fight in the war, you still would’ve been mine, we would’ve been timeless ⋆

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

hawkins was really the end of the road for you. 

deserting the dreams of the big city to come right back to where it had all started. 

it had been years since you’d stepped foot in this town, not much had changed since then, if you were completely honest. 

still the same old shitty, rundown dump it always was. 

eternally grateful that your grandad still owned the old diner at the other end of town, meaning you’d flounced right into a job and somewhere to stay once you’d packed your bags and left new york behind. 

it’s nothing like the office used to be, barely seeing a dozen customers a day, only if you were lucky. but it was nice, a change in pace after the hustle and bustle of the city. 

the radio hums on quietly in the background, a couple of regulars sit sipping their coffee at various tables. they did this day in, day out. drink coffee, complain about some mundane new issue they had with the town and then shuffle off back to their homes. 

it didn’t exactly seem like your idea of fun. 

there’s a bang from outside, metal hitting the ground and a chorus of laughter pulling all attention to the back of the kitchen. 

you don’t hang around, barrelling through the kitchen to just about catch the gaggle of kids sprinting off down the road leaving behind their cans of spray paint and a delightful new mural on the back wall. 

“what the fuck?” screaming out after them though it’s really no use, they’d already gone. 

exasperated that in the seven years you’d been gone, the kids hadn’t changed a bit. 

you slink back inside, immediately reaching for the phone, hoping that maybe the police had gotten a little better since you’d left. 

though you hold no hope, if they were anything like they were when you were a misfit teen, you’re screwed. 

-

the sun had set, the regulars had scurried off home and now it was just you and the crude painting on the wall. hours and hours of waiting for someone to get out to you. 

only for the patrol car to rattle up into the parking lot, just as you had given up all hope. 

you storm out of the building, infuriated by the nonchalant attitude hawkins police still seemed to hold, “oh, how nice of you to come! i only called three-,” stopping dead in your tracks as the man exits his vehicle. 

you still completely, frozen to your spot, blinking rapidly in disbelief. 

eddie fucking munson stands, with his thumbs hooked into his belt, at the door of his patrol car. hawkins police department uniform to boot, a complete shell of the man you had known years ago. 

“when’d you blow in?” he asks innocuously, slamming the door shut. a new found confidence, or maybe it was cockiness, in his stride. 

“last week,” still coming to grips with the fact that the man stood before you was the same nerdy metal head you were once inseparable with, “when’d you become a cop?”

out of all the possible occupations you could’ve imagined eddie munson in, cop would’ve been dead last on that list. in fact, inmate was several dozens of spots higher. 

he chuckles, realising how ridiculous it must look, “few years ago,” he’s close now, close enough that you can see his long black curls peeking out the back of his hat, “didn’t know you were coming back, i would’ve been quicker if i’d have known it was you.” 

you scoff, very much doubting that, “you should’ve been here hours ago anyway,” beckoning him to the back of the building, no time for reunions while you had a diner plastered in lewd drawings. 

“these fuckin’ kids,” you huff, shaking your head like a scolding old lady, “look at it,” motioning at the hideous spray painting they’d vandalised the entire back wall with, “if you were here on time, you might’ve been able to catch ‘em,” turning your displeased scowl to eddie. 

the corner of his lips twitches, creeping into a full smile. only angering you further. 

“what? d’you think this is funny?”

he shakes his head, cautiously meeting your eye, “no, it’s just.. pretty sure we got taken to the station for doin’ this behind melvalds,” his shoulders shaking as he chuckles. 

you stand, straight faced, the irony wasn’t lost on you, it just didn’t feel like a laughing matter. 

“are you joking? no, really? you’re serious?” rubbing your fingers viciously over the dried paint, “you can paint this shit since it’s so funny to you.” 

“alright alright,” eddie soothes, “i’ll help you paint it,” eyeing the large canvas he’d now been tasked to paint. 

“no,” you frown, “i said you can paint it, i’m not helping you.” 

he smiles, teeth peeking out from his lips, “you get the paint and i’ll do it, deal?” 

driving such a hard bargain, it’s almost impossible not to fall at his feet and sarcastically thank him for his help. 

“fine, deal.” 

“great,” he beams, “now how about some coffee?” 

“we’re closed.”

he exhales, pursing his lips slightly, “please?” 

-

eddie blabbers on about the vagrant youths in hawkins, how just yesterday he was dragging some boy by the scruff of his neck back to his parents. 

it’s all great, exhilarating stuff really. except, you can’t help but let your mind wander, noting his lack of visible tattoos and a ripped up band tee. 

and then further down onto his wedding ring. 

wedding ring?

“you’re married?” you blurt out, staring at the plain band on his fourth finger. eddie munson, married. a feat you had never thought possible. 

“huh?” following your gaze down to his hand, “oh, no,” sliding the silver band from his finger, “it’s the only one they’d let me wear.”

his fingers once adorned with various rings and shoddy stick and poke tattoos, now plain and simple with only the shadows of once black markings. 

“oh,” looking back at his face, “i don’t like it,” shaking your head as if you had any real say on his jewellery, “doesn’t feel like you.” 

eddie takes a sip of coffee, looking just through you, rather than at you, “maybe this is the new me.” 

you ponder, wondering whether you should get as equally profound as he was, “maybe.. still don’t like it,” turning to slide the rest of the dirty plates through the hatch, “when’d you decide to become a traitor anyway?” 

eddie chuckles loudly, the walkie on his shirt crackling incoherently, “a few years ago, it was either this or jail so..” 

“how was it between this or jail? what the hell d’you do?” motioning to his iron pressed getup. 

he sighs, looking down into his mug, “hopper caught me selling at the high school.. not just weed but,” he nods, making a circular gesture with his hand, “like, real hard shit..” sighing softly again as his eyes meet yours, “he told me that he could turn me in and i’d be lucky to get a couple years, or he could get me a job down the station and we could forget all about it.” 

you can’t help the pang of guilt from seeping across your chest. you’d left pretty abruptly in ‘89, much to eddie’s defiance, leaving him to a  town full of people that either hated him or only acknowledged his existence when he was useful to them. 

there’s no question as to whether your departure was anything to do with him peddling hard drugs, that was a given. 

“well shit,” the frown between your brows deepening, “i’m sorry for opening my mouth,” brushing your hands down your apron, hoping that he would see the funny side. 

eddie just shrugs, sliding the empty coffee mug back over the polished wood top, “it’s alright, i don’t mind it actually, not much happens in hawkins anyway.” 

“i wouldn’t say that,” you frown, deciding that the mug would simply have to wait until tomorrow to clean, “there’s a bunch of ugly graffiti on the side of my diner,” quirking your brow, hoping it’ll serve as a reminder to why you’d even called him up here in the first place. 

his eyes sparkle in the dim light, creasing with contained laughter, “i told you i’ll paint it,” his chair scrapes across the wooden floor, straightening his hat, “where’re you staying now anyway? need a ride?” 

you shake your head, looking back at the clock, “i’m at my grandpa’s for the time being.. he should be here soon,” silently praying that he’d arrive so you weren’t forced to ride in the back seat of his patrol car. 

certain people would have plenty to say about that for sure. 

“alright well.. i’ll see you later,” saluting with his two fingers as he leaves. 

an indescribable feeling settles in your stomach. somewhere between melancholy and regret. 

maybe things would’ve been different if you’d stayed. 

maybe not. 

that’s what makes you the most unsettled, it’s a sick nostalgia for something that never even happened. 

a question that had plagued you for the past seven years, one you’ll probably never know the answer to either.  

you brush whatever wistful, reminiscent reflections out of your mind, turning the lights off to wait for your ride in the mellow july evening instead. 

-

the coffee machine hums, the only thing in this place that seemed to be used consistently. forced to make hundreds of bland black coffees for crony old men day in, day out. 

that’s how bored this place had you, pondering the feeling of the inanimate coffee machine. jesus christ. 

time creaks on by, ticking slowly as the sun clears off and the night settles in. one more hour and you’d be on your way home, ready for another night of re-runs and a stale tv-dinner with your grandad. 

you couldn’t complain really, he’d been extremely welcoming, sorting your own little bedroom out for you in his unused office. 

tires screech into the parking lot, crunching on the gravel, alerting you to that damned patrol car pulling up again. 

you watch as he does his little routine, strolling into the diner with a tiny smile, sidling up to the counter with such an air of self-importance, it actually makes you a little sick. 

“you come to paint the wall?” you quip, offering nothing but a tight lipped smile back. 

he clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth, “uh.. no, coffee actually,” pointing to the used and abused machine. 

“hmph,” shaking your head, “you promised.”

“yeah and i’m gonna do it,” holding his hands up, admitting that this was a battle he had already lost, “tell you what, i’m free all day next saturday, you get the paint and i’ll be here.” 

you don’t believe him, you have no reason to but alas, you nod anyway, “you better or you can kiss this friendship goodbye.” 

eddie grins, splaying his palms out flat as he shrugs, “so how about that coffee?” 

-

eddie makes sure to stop in every single day this week. and next. often for hours at a time until his walkie dragged him away and back to the work he’d been ignoring. 

like clockwork, his car crunches over the gravel, swinging in to the same spot without fail. 

nobody even looks twice as the bell rings, too invested in the financial times to spare a second of their attention. 

“you’re here an awful lot,” raising your brows, sliding your notebook back into your apron. 

eddie shrugs, placing his hat onto the counter, “what can i say? i like the coffee,” smiling innocently as he takes his seat. 

“oh i’m sure,” rolling your eyes in return, grabbing a mug and pouring his coffee before gently sliding it over the bar. 

he stays until close tonight, lingering behind as you lock up, no doubt pretending to offer some sort of protection though you’re absolutely sure that you’d be more capable of fighting off any potential threats than he’d ever be. 

you look at your watch, knowing your grandad should’ve been here by now. it was a long, treacherous walk back to his place, not exactly something you wanted to tackle at ten pm either. 

“you need a ride?” eddie asks, standing at his car with his keys in his hand. 

you press your lips together, taking another look at the ticking clock face on your wrist, “if you’re going that way, that’d be great.” 

his eyes roll back, knowing that even if he were driving to the other side of the country, he’d still take you home first, “c’mon,” opening the passenger door as you begrudgingly slink over. 

he certainly keeps his car in better condition than he ever kept his beat up, old van. sometimes it felt like you’d die from dust inhalation than his shoddy driving. 

“they give you this for free?” you ask, admiring the plush leather seats. 

“yup,” tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, “pay for the gas too.” 

“wowww,” feigning amazement, “you’ve got it good.” 

he glances over, scowling just so, unappreciative of your sarcasm, “who’s the one with a driving license and a car here? because it’s not you.”

your mouth falls open, blinking rapidly at his terrible attempt at a joke, “ouch okay,” hoping he’d regret his callousness, though it wasn’t likely. 

“i offered to teach you.. you could’ve been on the road by now,” his eyes leaving the road every other second, fingers itching to rest on your knee. 

“pffft. driving lessons from you? i’d rather walk.” 

you wish he’d just do it, his hands were twitchy, begging to make contact.  

they don’t. 

keeping on the steering wheel instead. 

but he chuckles, low and grumbly, “dustin didn’t wanna learn with me either for some reason.”

“oh wow yeah, i wonder,” turning to stare blankly at the side of his head. 

he glances over, shaking his head before turning back to the road, “you’re so mean,” throwing out a pathetic pout. 

the car rolls onto the familiar street, an unwilling sinking in your gut that the journey was over too soon. 

eddie taps the wheel, peering out of the window at the decaying row of houses, “jeez,” air blowing out of his lips, “hasn’t changed a bit.”

you shake your head, wanting to stay in the car just a bit longer, “nope..” emphasising the ‘p’ as you follow his eye to the splintering door. 

he nods, still staring straight ahead rather than daring to meet your eye, “i’m really glad you’re back,” his fingers playing a repetitive tune on the leather, “i feel like i’ve been waiting for you to come home for so long now that i wasn’t sure if you ever would.”

you hadn’t ever planned on it. 

dreams of new york had filled your mind for as long as you can remember. 

that was supposed to be it. 

and at the start it really did seem like you’d spend the rest of your life there. but a string of tumultuous relationships and an awful

boss had forced you back to hawkins. 

“i didn’t think i was ever gonna,” sighing softly, “i’m sorry for just.. leavin’ you,” turning unexpectedly bashful, “i thought about you all the time you know? new york’s not really that great but i think you would’ve made it better,” feeling the heat soar to your cheeks. 

it was true, at least, at the start. you’d often find yourself wondering about what eddie was up to or if he was thinking of you too. 

“don’t apologise for that,” shaking his head, “i get it. if i coulda, i woulda done it too. you’ll have to show me around one day when i’m-,” clearing his throat, “when i’m not stuck at work.”

he sounds off, something hidden in his tone that you really don’t understand. the moment too tender to query it too much, apprehensive to change the subject just as things had started to feel normal again. 

“i can do that,” turning to eddie to find him already gazing back. “you gotta give me a tour of the station first though, it’s only fair.” 

“deal,” eddie nods, offering his hand out for you to shake. 

you do it, not acknowledging his clammy palm or the way his fingers are shaking just so. 

“alright,” you nod, breaking the tension, “i better go, you’ve gotta busy day tomorrow,” reminding him of your long-awaited agreement. 

“wait-,” grabbing ahold of your fingers before you’re able to climb fully out of the car. 

you turn, eyebrow raised, “what?” 

he’s been so strange all night, like he’s edging to say something

“uhm.. what time did you say again?” 

you blink, baffled by his outburst, “uh.. anytime in the afternoon, i’ll close up early and come and help.” 

“o-okay yeah perfect,” letting go of your fingers. 

your face contorts but you keep your thoughts to yourself, he was pretty peculiar at the best of times, this was no exception. 

“goodnight eds,” finally closing the door, leaving him to his confusing little stupor. 

-

eddie’s there right on time, with a paint bucket in hand and the brush tucked into the pocket of his ratty, paint spattered shirt. 

he looks a picture, resembling more wayne than the eddie munson you knew. 

“what?” he questions your marvelling expression. 

“you look ridiculous,” tucking the cloth back into your apron to get a further look at his get up. his jeans closely resemble the ones he wore as a teen, tattered and torn with spatters of paint adorning the denim. it’s no wonder who he’d stolen his clothes from. 

“ouch,” clutching his heart, “i can just go home if you want? leave that graffiti on your wall?” 

“i didn’t say that,” tutting your tongue against your teeth, “go on out, i’m just gonna finish up in here and i’ll join ya,” ushering him back out the door. 

closing takes longer than you’d expect. mr. casey wasn’t best pleased to hear he had to finish his coffee and go, grumbling all the way out of the door and into his car. 

you make it outside just as eddie spreads the last lick of paint onto the wood, “nice of you to join me!” 

you stare up at the freshly painted wall, grateful to never have to look at the god awful eyesore every again, “doesn’t look like you needed my help anyway,” feet crunching against the stones as you make your way over to him. 

“what d’you think?” proudly showing off his work. 

your eyes scan the wall for anything you can make a quick quip about, only to find that he’d really done a great job. 

“yeah..” frowning slightly as you peer at the wall, “you just missed a tiny little spot,” gesturing for him to come closer. 

“what? where?” stomping over, displeased with your criticisms of his hard work. 

“right here,” grabbing the brush from his hand, smearing a streak of dusty grey across his cheek before immediately jumping back to admire your handiwork. 

eddie stands in shock, hands in the air while the cogs in his brain tick away slowly, figuring out how to get you back. 

he goes for the can, picking up the full metal bucket and angling it in your direction, a maniacal, nay, evil grin on his face. 

“don’t even fucking think about it eddie, i’m serious!” dropping the paintbrush in defeat, surrendering your hands in the air. 

he cackles, thunderous laughter that makes you shriek in response, hands flying over your face to protect yourself for the onslaught. 

eddie bounds over, the paint spilling over onto the floor as he goes, forcing you to brace yourself. 

except the paint doesn’t come, daring enough to open your eyes to find him a few steps in front. 

“come on,” he complains, “you didn’t really think i was gonna do it, did you?” 

“yes! i did!” 

he collapses into a fit of laughter, placing the can safely back on the ground, ���i would never,” inching closer to prove his innocence. 

only, he isn’t at all. 

his fingers swipe the paint from his cheek to wipe the dusky colour onto yours instead, a perfect hand print encapsulated on your face. 

“you’re an asshole,” grabbing his wrist to redirect his paint covered palm back to his own face.

eddie is, no doubt, stronger than you are. twisting your arm until it’s tangled around your own body. encasing you within your own limbs, held tight by his own unfaltering grip and his chest pressed against your back. 

“what was that?”

“you’re an asshole and i’m going to scream if you don’t let me go,” an empty threat really, considering the dreary regulars had all shuffled off home and the nearest neighbourhood was a good mile east. 

“i mean, you can if you want to but i don’t think anyone’ll hear you,” snickering into your ear. 

you hadn’t anticipated that he’d now had years of experience with apprehending criminals, you were never a worthy opponent nowadays. 

you lurch forward, taking both of your bodies over to the wall, eddie’s clumsy clown feet knocking over the tin of paint on his way. splashing the bottoms of your legs and shoes with the ghastly stuff. 

you go stumbling into the still-wet wall, eddie following closely behind, pressing your back into the sticky paint. his chest heaves, still holding onto your arm though you’d come to face him now. his fingers twitch against your skin, slotting his between yours, holding your hand against the wall after the most painful few weeks of almosts. 

quickly, his other hand comes to cup your chin, tilting it up to meet his. in a split second he goes from staring at your lips to crashing his into them.

knocking your head back against the wall with such ferocity, years of tension and unanswered pining leading to this moment. 

“jesus christ,” he mutters through rushed kisses, “i’ve been waiting to do this for so long,” combing his dirtied fingers through your wild hair. 

your arms snake around his neck, surely spreading white finger prints across his clothes and into his hair, “you should’ve.”

the sun beats down on your skin, painting his face a glorious orange hue, wanting nothing more than to bask in this view for the rest of your life. 

eddie pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours, “you okay?” 

you’re breathless, chest heaving against his, “yeah,” falling into a fit of giggles, “yeah.. are you?” 

he nods, fingertips gently tucking strands of messy hair behind your ear, “yeah.. well, i’m better now,” ducking his head to lean in and meet your lips again. 

you’d read about sparks flying and all sorts of other romanticisms in books for years, brushing them off as exaggerated works of fiction, only now, the very happenings you’d denied were happening to you. 

to feel that someone’s lips were made so perfectly just for you seemed absurd, but truly, it was possible. 

eddie’s words rumble against your lips, incomprehensible as your brain is preoccupied with processing what was happening. 

“hey.. hey,” only really hearing him once he’d pulled away and was staring into your eyes with his deep, brown ones. “anyone home?” laughing at your vacant smile, as if he weren’t the culprit behind it. 

“just shut up and kiss me again.”

-

the evening winds down rather quickly, now covered in peeling eggshell paint, your uniform half-off, half-dirtied. 

you didn’t mind one bit, slowly making your way inside the diner to attempt to clean yourself up before heading home. 

“since we’re in here..” eddie starts, leaving you wondering what was going to come out of his mouth next, “coffee?” eyeing the machine you’d already polished and turned off. 

“seriously?” dead-eyed as you turn to face him. 

“i wasn’t lyin’ about coming for the coffee,” smiling from across the bar, “i just didn’t mention that i was also coming to see you.” 

your eyes roll back instinctively, however sweet he was being. 

eddie offers to take you home, a gesture of goodwill after you clean him up and fill him with free coffee. both of you skirting around the fact he had you pinned up against the wall just mere hours ago. 

if he’s not going to, you have to. 

there was no going to back to normal, not after that, not after he had proclaimed that he had been waiting for that. 

“pull over,” you blurt out. too loudly, too rushed that eddie can’t help but panic, questioning your urgency and most likely, safety. 

but he follows your orders, pulling into the nearest clearing, all the while looking completely panicked and a little unsettled. 

the engine is barely off before you’re sliding over onto the drivers seat, thighs resting either side of his as you skilfully lean down to push his chair back all at once. refusing to give him the chance to jabber his way out of this one. 

“hey.. woah, what the fuck?” chuckling softly though his hands reluctantly come to rest on your hips, eyes darting around the dark outside of the window, “i’m in my patrol car.. what if someone sees?”

“who d’you think’s gonna see?” 

“i-i dunno,” allowing himself to get comfortable, “but i’ll get fired,” reluctance in his throat. 

“you can come work at the diner, you’re there all the time anyway,” interrupting his worrisome whining with a kiss to the side of his lips, taking his bottom lip between your teeth. 

he indulges for a moment, sighing softly into your parted lips before hastily pulling away, “i mean it, i can’t,” gazing up to you with his doe-like eyes. 

“fine,” you grumble, sliding back into the passenger seat, “d’you wanna come over? grandad’ll be asleep by now,” picking at your fingernails like some teenager talking to her crush. 

that’s sort of what he was, an eternal crush that you’d never really get over. 

“you sure? we could.. i mean, wayne still lives with me but i’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” eddie offers, though the thought of doing anything in that trailer made you recoil and shudder. 

it was cozy and served you well during your adolescence but privacy was nonexistent, every breath or movement was projected very clearly into the next room. 

you shake your head, “i’m closer anyway, i’m sure it’ll be fine,” after years of living on your own, debating where the safest place to have sex was seemed like a hundred steps back. 

eddie can hardly focus, hand squeezing your knee the entire drive over. any longer and he’d have broken skin, that’s certain. 

but now it’s your turn, you can’t keep your paint tarnished hands off of him, the second eddie steps over the threshold and into the corridor, you pounce. wrapping your arms tight around his neck, pressing your lips together with such ferocity that he falls back into the wall. 

but he catches up quick, finding your waist as he walks the both of you up the hall, hungrily grabbing at the sliver of flesh peeking from underneath your shirt. 

a light at the top of the staircase flicks on, forcing your lips apart. 

“hi sweetie,” your grandad calls from upstairs, “good day?” 

eddie’s fingers squeeze your waist, sharing a panicked look before you clear your throat, “hey grandpa.. it was good,” knowing full well that he wouldn’t venture out of his room at this time to catch you, “i’ll see you in the morning, alright?” ushering eddie through the kitchen door. 

“okay, goodnight dear,” he calls, the light finally flickering off allowing you to release the breath you weren’t aware you were holding. 

silently pulling him down the tiny hall and into your converted bedroom, holding in a devious cackle. 

it really wouldn’t matter if he had caught you, grandad had always been a huge fan of eddie’s, cooking him dinner and offering him unsolicited dating advice during your teens. if anything, he’d be championing the ship. 

“oh my god,” you mouth, closing the door, your room was the tiny office space right at the back of the house, which in hindsight, seemed like the best option now. 

eddie’s hands find you again, resting on your hips with a sickening smile, “thought he was asleep?” 

your eyes roll back on their own, hooking your arms around his neck once again, “so did i,” guiding him towards the bed, “just be quiet and we’ll be okay,” rushing to unbutton his shirt. 

fifteen years of friendship boiling down to this very moment, a litany of teenage tension and hidden feelings bubbling to the surface all at once. 

eddie moves your bodies as one, lowering your back onto the bed with tepid hands, coming down on top of you, “i don’t know if i can do quiet.”

“well try,” you hush, connecting your lips in a haste, rushing to unbutton the rest of his messy shirt. 

grandad was partially deaf, the likelihood of him hearing anything was minuscule, but you weren’t willing to take that risk.  

his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, no longer the novice he once was apparently. groaning softly into your mouth with every slight move of his hips. 

you struggle with his shirt, his now-defined arms hold himself above you, leaving the fabric draped around his shoulders. you can’t complain, fingertips tracing over the solid muscle, a stark contrast to the spindly biceps you once clung to. 

he taps your hip, signalling for them to move, allowing him to slide your pants down your thighs. 

eddie had seen you naked a handful of times, mostly followed by you screaming at him to get or close his eyes. it was different then, when being naked in front of someone was the most personal thing you could ever do. 

now it feels natural, his hands roaming your body as if they’ve always belonged there. 

tossing his shirt to the ground before working on removing yours, all the while pressing hungry kisses to your lips, jaw and neck. chest heaving with the palpable tension. 

it’s mostly silent bar your concealed sighs and the sound of his lips smacking against the crook of your neck. 

he’s so hard, nudging against your aching core, you can feel it with every tilt of his hips, painstaking in the way he comes so close just to pull back again. 

your panties end up on the heap of clothes last, eddie’s teeth gnaw at his bottom lip, watching the lacy fabric slide over your supple thighs. 

“fuck,” gasping under his breath, marvelling your bare body. 

his boxers go next, your eyes trailing down to his slick cock, far different to how you’d ever imagined. 

there’s a slight jolt in your stomach, wondering why you’d ever waited so long for this to happen. 

you’d have to make up for lost time, secret pining and infantile crushes all gone to waste. 

two fingers tease your hole, shining in your release as they draw in and out. stifling the squeaks of pleasure into your palm, thighs closing around his arm. 

you could truly cum from this alone, so pent up, so turned on that just his thumb tapping at your clit had you clenching around his digits. 

“need.. more,” holding onto his bicep, refusing to let him prolong this any further. 

“yeah?” eddie nods, “i can do more,” positioning himself at your sopping entrance, waiting for your go ahead to slide in. 

“yes.. yes.” 

he slips inside with a groan, only, the groan doesn’t come from his lips, but instead the creaky old mattress holding you both up. 

eddie freezes, wide-eyed as his hips still. there was no way you could have sex on this old thing, at least not indiscreetly. 

your lips twitch, laughing at the sheer insanity of this entire encounter, the world was clearly against the idea of you two having sex. 

he falls into a quiet chuckle, still halfway inside of you at this point, “what should i do?” unwilling to disrespect your grandad while also being unwilling to give this up. 

you felt like a teenager again, sneaking around with boys you shouldn’t, except, this time you’re twenty five and far too old to be worrying about being caught in the act. 

“just- just fuck me,” you order, sick of the karmic interventions. there was only so much you could tolerate before things became too ridiculous. 

eddie’s eyelashes flutter, letting his hips move as your cunt envelopes him. 

“god- fu-uck,” fingers gripping at the sheets besides your head. beginning to lose his sanity already. 

your pants fill the room, closely followed by the sound of his skin colliding with yours. moving in perfect harmony around one another in a bid to keep this as quiet as possible. 

“eddie,” you sigh, loosening your grip on his neck only to cradle his cheek, meeting his eye in what was possibly the closest he had ever felt to anyone in his life. 

there’s no hope in this lasting much longer, not with the way he was fumbling his words, certainly not with his cock twitching as he reached new, otherworldly heights. though his strokes are slow, they make your legs tremble, his tip nudging softly against your sweet spot. 

your chin tilts, pressing clumsy kisses to the side of his mouth, panting in tandem with one another. 

there’s something skilful about the way he angles himself, sliding in and out of your glistening pussy, pulling almost all the way back out just to end up filling you to the hilt again. 

refusing to think about the implications of that. 

“sweetheart i can’t- won’t last much longer,” whining against your cheek, carelessly pecking the soft skin. 

“nearly.. nearly there,” you breathe, letting your eyes roll back, focusing on the way his core meets your clit and his soft cries that fill your ears. 

this gives him the much needed determination to not let himself topple over before you had. coming even closer as he lowers himself, using one hand to glide down to your throbbing clit, two fingers rubbing lazy circles in time with his messy thrusts. 

your stomach flips without warning, falling to pieces underneath his body as your thighs tighten around his hips. cumming around his cock, accompanied by incoherent mewls, an attempt to keep quiet though it fails miserable. 

eddie’s hips sputter, grunting with each feeble, final thrust. barely pulling out before he cums, thick ropes of his release paint your cunt and stomach. 

“ohh shit,” he curses, sitting back on his knees to assess his mess. 

heaving for breath as he searches frantically for something to clean you up, a reformed gentleman. there’s no way eddie of the past would ever think to do something so thoughtful. 

“there’s a towel.. somewhere,” gesturing vaguely to the floor, though your legs are intertwined with his, making it a much harder ordeal. 

he scrambles off anyway, sweaty skin on skin causing him to fumble, almost tripping over completely just to save himself seconds before disaster. 

your cackle erupts, watching him stumble around like a mad man. this had been anything but the quiet endeavour it should’ve been, and yet you can’t bring yourself to care. 

after years of waiting for things to fall into place, they finally felt like they had. like something had clicked and you were right where you were supposed to be. what you had been missing was eddie, a best friend before he was ever a lover. someone that knew you and not just the version of you the city brought out. 

“jesus christ,” he huffs, wiping his release from your stomach, “i tried,” tossing the towel back onto the floor, coming to collapse beside you. 

immediately nestling into his side, still giggling over his pathetic tumble, “you’re ‘bout as grateful as a baby deer,” placing a hand on his chest, much leaner than his teenage years. 

“be grateful i’m too tired to fight back,” sliding his arm under your resting body, bringing you in close. “god i missed you so much,” he sighs, melancholy out of nowhere, “i uh.. i..” trailing off into silence, while his fingers find their way onto your shoulder, drawing lines on the goosebumped skin. 

you’re too weary to pay too much attention to his muttering, dozing off to sleep with the help of his chest. there’s something about his thumping heartbeat that soothes your messy head, he could tell you in the morning if it were truly that important. 

-

a late august morning blooms outside the window, peeking through the curtains to pull you from your slumber. 

only to find an empty bed and the scent of bacon wafting into your bedroom. 

that can only mean one thing, and that petrifies you. 

there’s no saying what your grandad would divulge about you over morning coffee, he was terrible at secrets at the best of times. 

“..what’s going on?” rounding the corner with apprehension in your face, not wanting to disrupt whatever conversation they were having. 

you meet eddie’s eye first, his lopsided grin and messy hair making your own smile emerge, grateful that he hadn’t ran off during the night. 

“breakfast,” your grandad replies, sharp and snappy but soft as always, “we normal folks tend to eat it in the morning,” a dig at your late awakening, despite the clock only reading 9:30. 

“has anyone ever told you how funny you are?” pulling a face behind his back, purely for eddie’s benefit. 

your grandad hums, “i found eddie here, rather underdressed, coming out of your bedroom this morning,” transferring the greasy bacon onto a plate, thankfully avoiding all eye contact, though you can spot his cheeky smirk a mile away. 

“oh.. right,” catching eddie’s eye just to widen your own, terrified for what else he may come out with. 

there’s a silence between the three of you, only the sounds of cutlery clinking against the plates and your feet shuffling awkwardly around the kitchen. 

“i don’t care,” he announces, breaking the uncomfortably long quiet, “i think you deserve this more than anything,” finding your gaze, a gentle, sincere smile plastered over his face. 

“thank you grandad,” ignoring eddie for a second, you’d shared tidbits of your time in the city, but nothing compared to what your grandad had heard for years. 

“i mean it,” he starts, including eddie in the conversation finally, “you’ve both grown into remarkable young people and you..” pointing his fork at eddie’s smiling face, “you, i would’ve never guessed you’d grow up,” eddie doesn’t wince, taking his jabs on the chin, “but look at you.” 

eddie nods, grinning sincerely, “thank you sir, i appreciate it,” a tender moment that makes your heart swell. 

you don’t want to call it what it so obviously is, not yet. but watching him grin at your grandad, completely domesticated and tender, you can’t help but think about it. 

your grandad smiles, sliding plates of food in front of you both, “now get and eat this before it goes cold.” 

-

the diner had apparently become a circus of sorts, only you seemed to be the main attraction. 

now that things were partially out there and eddie didn’t feel so scared to let you ride him in his patrol car, people, namely his colleagues had become regulars at the diner. 

you wouldn’t have ever cared, really. it was bound to get out at some point and if this was going to be a permanent, serious thing, you’d have to meet them all eventually. 

what you aren’t fond of, is their incessant staring, the gawping and tittering about your endeavours. 

eddie hadn’t believed you, always arriving just after they’d left, leaving you feeling crazed all alone. 

except for today, too busy refilling coffee to notice his car pull up, his lackeys too busy watching you refill coffees to notice either. 

the bell rings above the door, your eyes flitting up to find him staring at the table. 

they notice one by one, quickly looking down into the mugs and unfinished eggs, embarrassed and rosy-cheeked. 

vindicated in your madness at last. 

“afternoon,” eddie nods, strolling over to the counter, looking more amused than the angry, stern eddie you’d hoped for. 

“hmph,” awaiting his reaction, 

“you weren’t joking, huh?” eyeing the rambunctious table, his chest puffed out to showcase his seniority. 

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “no,” making your way around the bar to grab his arm, “what’ve you told them? i thought we weren’t going to make this a big thing,” shoving the mug of coffee into his chest, though he didn’t deserve your hospitality. 

eddie holds his hands up high, a plea for his innocence, or forgiveness, “i just.. i told a few people about you. i’m happy, im sorry,” opting for puppy dog eyes. “i didn’t think they’d come up here to antagonise you, honest,” stroking your arm, a gesture of peace you can’t help but resist. 

your eyes narrow, slipping away from his grasp to get back to your job, “you’re so lucky i like you.”

-

eddie had stayed until close again, mumbling something about vacation and helping out. but you’re ravenous the second the door locks, a one track mind to get into his pants and out of yours.

tugging him by the collar into the kitchen, throwing yourself on him with such ferocity his body almost sends the cutlery to the floor as he holds the counter for stability.

“okay.. okay,” he laughs, breaking away from your lips to hoist you atop of the cold, steel counter, “rough day, huh?”

you nod, wasting no time in getting your legs wrapped around his midriff, arms draped over his shoulders. now that having this was a real thing, you didn’t want to ever stop. 

your lips find solace in the crook of his neck, working your way up to his ear, your teeth nibbling at the sensitive skin. 

“huh- fuck okay,” eddie’s hands clamp down on the surface top, enveloping you perfectly within his grasp. his uniform hangs off of his frame, disheveled by your wandering hands. 

eyes scanning the clearly empty restaurant for what feels like the thousandth time already, as if even he believed that someone would sneak in just to catch you two out. 

“eds please,” huffing frustratedly into his ear, “i practically own this place.. no one’s gonna find us,” snapping his distracted gaze back to your pouty lips, his hands settling on your hips almost immediately. 

“i know i know,” nodding along, “okay, shit,” further diving into the space between your legs, his cock teasing as it nudges your clothed entrance. 

“need you so bad,” jutting your bottom lip out further, fingers dipping below the messy collar of his button up, in dire need of something a little more substantial to satiated the ache between your legs.

his twitchy fingers struggle with the button of your jeans, failing him in his time of need. 

“ah fuck,” eddie gives up completely. head dipping into the small space between you, forehead resting on your chest. 

“what’s wrong? what’s.. what’s the matter?” you tug at his hair in an attempt to bring him back upright. 

he sighs, the warm air splaying across your exposed skin, “i gotta tell you something,” finally reemerging to meet your eyes, “you’re gonna be mad but.. i just need you to listen, okay?” 

your brows furrow, features crumpling in sheer confusion. he was terrifying like this, cryptic and coy. what could he possibly have to say that couldn’t wait until after you’d fucked? 

“what is it?” your voice trembling, still cradling his face, terrified for whatever he might blurt out. 

he sighs again. deep and guttural as his gaze flickers, “i’m.. sorry, first of all. for not telling you about this.” 

your anger and worry both grow increasingly stronger, “sorry for what? eddie, i don’t understand what’s going on.”

eddie pauses, brushing his thumb over your hot cheek, “i’m being shipped out on monday,” chewing down on his lip nervously. rightly so too. 

dropping the bombshell of the century at five in the afternoon as you sat pathetically, covered in grease and coffee stains all the while ridiculously turned on. 

“what?” 

his mouth opens but nothing comes out, he’d run out of things to say already. he’d had weeks and weeks to tell you, to at least prepare himself for what to say and this was the best he could come up with? 

“why didn’t you tell me?” dropping your hand, positively raging with the stupid boy, “how long have you known?”

you can almost hear the gulp, regret and guilt seeping through his face immediately, “the day after you got back,” sounding utterly pathetic. 

your hands push him back instinctively, anger pulsing through your veins, “and you didn’t tell me?” you slide off of the counter, shoving him backward. 

“i didn’t know how..” scrambling now, refusing to allow his cowardice ruin this, “i wasn’t expecting to fall in love with you again-“ 

“-don’t! don’t do that!” jabbing your finger harshly into his chest, “why didn’t you fucking tell me!” 

“because i was scared,” eddie somehow remains level-headed despite your lack of control, “i didn’t know that i was gonna feel this way or that you were gonna stick around again,” sighing frustratedly, “i never wanted to hurt you,” a complete and utter dejection in his voice. 

your lip trembles, tears threatening to spill over, “and you thought that not telling me would be any better?” 

“no! i didn’t..” shaking his head, hands reaching out one more time, “i wasn’t thinking at all,” you don’t push him away this time, too encompassed by your devastation to notice his hands grab yours. 

“you’re unbelievable eddie,” scolding him for his ignorance, but he can feel you relax into his touch, “three days… three days is all i’ve got to say goodbye again,” forlorn, already wishing away the year. 

what if he never come back? 

he could meet someone else, decide that hawkins was a dead end and stay the rest of his life with someone other than you. 

it’s unfathomable, the last time you said goodbye, you didn’t see him again for years. 

eddie’s eyes are wet, 

“wait for me,” he nods assuredly, “a year and i’ll be back,” trembling as he speaks, desperate to not lose you again, “please.”

“a year?” you fret, angry all over again, “i’ve just.. i’ve just got you back! you can’t-” struggling to breathe through your sobs, “what if you don’t come back? and then i’m stuck here for the rest of my life waiting for you!” 

“that’s not gonna happen,” pressing the rough pads of his thumbs into your wrists, keeping you in his hold, “i’m coming back for you,” wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling you into his chest where your cries become muffled wails. “i want to be with you forever. you don’t have to worry about that,” resting his chin atop of your head, drawing soothing patterns into your back. 

“promise me,” you blubber, pulling back just enough to catch his eye, “promise me that you’ll come back,” sniffling through your words, a mess that would scare any man from coming back. 

“i promise you, i’m coming back.”

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to write diva like characters, like blingy, dramatic, cool asf characters. I feel we don't talk about socialites and PPL like these but I do wanna put them as a main character

Writing Ideas: Diva Characters

a list of related tropes

The Beautiful Elite: They aren't just beautiful looking. In addition to being healthy and fit, with beautiful skin and hair, their whole life is beautiful. They are more fashionable than anyone else, more sophisticated and charming than anyone else, and are usually both rich and socially powerful. Their clothes are all way too expensive for you to ever own. They live in an elegantly furnished Big Fancy House that is so clean and well organized they look like they are Living in a Furniture Store. They get to hobnob with famous people so much that they may casually refer to them on a First-Name Basis. To a certain degree, this is Truth in Television. In most societies, wealth and attractiveness are highly correlated; the wealthy have much greater access to resources for improving their own appearance, through fitness classes, plastic surgery, healthy food, cosmetics, hairstyling, wardrobe, etc. Moreover, attractive people often have better access to social, financial, and material success, whether through marriage or professional opportunities. And even beyond all that, the very standards of beauty itself, especially feminine beauty, are customarily centered around a demonstration of wealth.

Cosmopolitan Council: The one trait that ties everyone together is that they are all in possession of skill, authority or money, and in excessive amounts. The members will probably be heavily accessorized with gaudy jewelry or a scar to prove their moral alignment. In short, the implication is that each and every member has a varied and storied past… which we very likely won't learn.

Non-Idle Rich: A rich character does a job involving public service (often a cop, soldier, or doctor) despite obviously not needing the pay. Instead, they do the work to help people or for personal satisfaction — or to avoid boredom. They will often have conflict with both their family — who wonder what they're doing down in the muck with the "common people" — and their work peers — who class them sight unseen as a dilettante after thrills. They spend all their time proving themselves.

Socialite: Cultured and rich, and knows how to handle any social situation (or at least upper-class ones).

Socially Scored Society: A setting where everyone's reputation is ranked/scored, and it affects their quality of life.

The Diva: The strong, dark, beautiful woman. She's often a go-getter, chasing stardom, wealth, or just recognition for her talents. If she becomes an Idol, she's not constrained by the pressures of always appearing youthful, innocent, and approachable.

The Prima Donna: An overbearing, egotistical entertainer.

Hidden Heart of Gold: Someone is mean, has become famous for it, and is proud of it, so when they do something nice, they keep it secret.

No Fame, No Wealth, No Service: Places that only let in celebrities.

Old Money: Families that have been wealthy for many generations, and maintain their lifestyle through stewardship of an existing family fortune.

The Sheltered Aristocrat: A character who has lived a life surrounded by luxury and pomp and shielded from the everyday trivialities and mundane issues which the lower classes have to contend with. They see themselves as pure and untainted by the hardships of the outside world, but their Ivory Tower worldview is based on books and tutoring, so they are in for a rude awakening when they leave the castle.

You Are the New Trend: A famous person has his mannerisms copied by everyone.

Examples

Brave New World is one of the most famous examples. A Dystopia where everyone is raised to be a Stepford Smiler, and everyone looks twenty years old (except the Epsilons, the lowest caste; they are barely human).

F. Scott Fitzgerald was fond of The Beautiful Elite trope: Dick and Nicole Diver appear to be Beautiful Elite at the beginning of Tender Is the Night. But deconstructed it in The Great Gatsby, a classic novel that starts off by showing all the glamor of the rich, then revealing the ugly truths behind why some of them are this way. The Beautiful and Damned also starts out with this in play until the main couple's awful life choices start catching up with them.

Elizabeth Roffe in Sidney Sheldon's Bloodline. Despite being able to simply sell her shares of her family's company, she decided to run the company.

George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire: House Lannister is the richest and most glamorous of the Great Houses. They are tall, beautiful and golden-haired. Jamie and Cersei Lannister are regarded as some of the most dashing and beautiful members of the nobility. The expected physical perfection of the Lannisters is part of why Tyrion Lannister, a deformed dwarf, is so reviled by much of his own family.

The Park family in Parasite live in a large, isolated house in the middle of densely packed Seoul to symbolize how sheltered they are from the real world. They casually spend large amounts of money with no real thought, as exemplified by how they ask for "ram-don" — which combines two full servings of instant noodles — topped with expensive sirloin steak for a snack. They serve as Foils to the poor Kims, who are of such modest means that they have to fold pizza boxes to try and make ends meet.

Pride and Prejudice's Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a widow of Blue Blood with a vast fortune and huge income. She's nosy, haughty, and extremely meddlesome. She thinks everybody will do what pleases her.

Sleeping Beauty (1959): As a baby, Princess Aurora is given the gift of beauty by the good fairies, as grows up into a lovely young woman.

Darling (1965) is about Diana Scott, a beauteous model from Swinging Sixties London, who gets into multiple romantic entanglements, attends high-profile charity galas, and flies around the world for various jobs. However, her personal unfulfillment, amorality, and disillusionment with the jet set are running themes, and the film ends with her stuck in a marriage to an Italian prince.

Soul (2020): Dorothea is a downplayed example. She's framed as the height of jazz performers, and definitely has sway over who plays and how in her band. She's quick to hire, fire, and challenge her bandmates to keep up. Her experience in the field also gives Joe the advice he needs to hear about the difference between chasing the dream and living it.

The Great Gatsby: Tom Buchanan and Daisy come from old money and high society. It's put in contrast with Jay Gatsby, who is Nouveau Riche and must engage in Conspicuous Consumption to appear to fit in.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Here are some tropes and examples you can use as inspiration. You can find more in the sources linked above. Choose which ones you would like to incorporate in your story. Hope this helps with your writing!

[benevadeca]

OK we all know SJ's fatal flaws of pride and envy and how it's a combination of the two that make him unwilling and unable to communicate.

But also like when you have had your humanity and personhood denied your entire life like. Why bother? Not only on a personal level of him thinking it's not worth it because he subconsciously internalized it, or his self-sabotaged interpersonal relationships, but the underlying social level.

Like historically saying something would just lead to worsening his circumstances, who listens to a slave? And then later it becomes his imposter feelings of well they already can tell I'm not One Of Them, let's not make it worse by clearing the waters bc an unpleasant lie is better than a vulerable truth. Bc to him both can and will be weaponized, but one is much more palatable.

But also like. Having to continuously justify your behavior, attitude, accomplishments, actions, etc to people who have, would, and did use any of it to deny his humanity and personhood and label him an Other. Fatalist king. Bc in his mind it's just a matter of which thing will be that which tips it over the edge. And ofc he takes this tendency as one born intentionally out of malice that cannot be unlearnt so like oop. People who've never had to worry abt such things denied to them, and so do not even realize said tendency to immediately act as an enforcer of an inherently exclusionary system is kind of un-righteous of them 🤷‍♂️. SJ internalizing these dynamics but he also doesn't even in now they're bad, to him they're just the natural state of things and that he as an outsider = he is inherently bad bc he is an outsider to them. Guy who cannot change the system or his role in it bc he's society-pilled 😔.

Anyway tangential but ngl in fics when the WRP stuff gets cleared and they're like ohhh you only hang out with Lesser people but you're not a Lesser person that's fine :) and SJ is just fine with this interpretation... like man those are His questionable-power-dynamic-born besties why would he be ok with that. Guy who's fine with any ad hominem against him but as soon as you insult his jiejie's he's like wait a minute. Fantasy china's first sex work-positive diversity hire cop.

[snekdood]

so many ppl online are like “hahah yeah guillotine” but i really doubt the majority of ppl saying that could actually stomach it.

[jesse-pinko]

Every fic I’ve read where Mike inevitably compares Jesse to his dead son is like they were Nothing Alike but Mike was still reminded of Matty… but consider… the only thing we actually know about Matty as a person is that he got in too deep with a fundamentally evil business because he didn’t fully understand the scope of the violence and corruption he’d be a party to bc he was so eager to impress the father figure in his life… consider… maybe they were more alike than they were different and Mike saw that every time he looked at Jesse

[comradecowplant]

y'know some shows just don't hit the same as they did when you depression spiral repeat binged it for the first time :-/

[evelynpr]

The LoV, Dabihawks, and more Hawks

Suddenly actually quite into Dabihawks (only took like, 5 more years lmao) but also their individual relationships with Twice, Himiko, and the rest of the LoV.

I really think the story should've given us more filler and time of them bonding together. Imo, that would've made their arcs and stories so much more emotionally investing, and their faith and care for each other even more apparent and genuine. Not that it isn't, but I think it wasn't given enough time and space to really grow.

Just thinking about Hawks, a brainwashed child soldier, suddenly becomes quite close to a bunch of people who genuinely like him and accept him for his past, his identity, and his mistakes, because that is just what the LoV are, a place of acceptance and change. His relationship with them initially out of necessity (as SxF Loid would put it, "For the mission"), growing into smth more genuine.

How in the war, he killed Twice, betrayed Dabi (and the whole LoV obv), and ordered Himiko to be killed to, but only upon losing his quirk and seeing Himiko's Twice clone does he realize the emptiness and foolishness of his whole life- that he accepted being stabbed by her.

This man can fit so much guilt and tragedy, and with his new position in the HSPC, I think he genuinely would try his darn best to change the system for the people who he betrayed. Honestly, a fucking tragic guy, and I wish the story made that more apparent.

[outeremissary]

Kingmaker is a cool game where eventually you have to ask yourself questions like "so how does this guard thing work" and "what is my OC's relationship with copaganda"

[sw-trashship]

People should REALLY talk more about how Disney Robin hood did not only made the basics of 'furry bait handsome guy' (like Nick Wilde, Mr. Wolf, etc) but also how is heavily used his ideology to go against the opression and then later being reduced bc the female character he meets ended making him submisive to the system and the narrative making it look like an ideal ending.

It's amazing how it doesn't matter that they were against the rules for valid reasons and later they become part of the system, a class traitor or, in best cases, only accepting that they are fully in the wrong and nothing else needs to change because hey!! He is still hot!

Oh, and extra points if it gives a good look to cops!

[genshin-projection]

i don't think i can be normal about Sunday guys

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

i’m just now watching the video and haven’t been on here at all bc spoilers but i gotta scream this into the void or i won’t make it through the video: DO NOT DO THIS TO DIL WE CANNOT RECOVER FROM COP DIL 😭😭😭

[loverboybrightsideghost]

alright now that i've watched all of arcane. i immensely enjoyed it because it was very pretty to look at and had a lot of badass good music to go with it. however kind of nothing at all happened except the apocalypse and some gay dudes dying together. go girl give us nothing

[thekimspoblog]

Demon trying to feed on my insecurities: "You're a bad driver"

Me: "Of course I am. I hate driving. Going 80 mph surrounded by tons of metal is nerve-wrecking. I try to do it as little as possible. Of course I'm bad at it"

Demon: "You're a bad writer"

Me: "Well that part's simply not true. I never claimed I was the greatest author of my generation, but when I put pen to paper I know what I want to communicate and I usually do it well. If someone isn't impressed with my work, that's unfortunate but they're entitled to their opinion"

Demon: "You're a bad leader"

Me: "Well I don't know about that! I mean there was that one time when... Ok look just because people don't see me as an authority figure doesn't mean... 😠 You know you can be a real asshole, demon!"

[bluastro-yellow]

there's only one end-of-the-day debrief :'( ?!?

[murky-tannin]

Hello did you liveblog ur binge of Fuga Impossível. Asking for a friend (<- wants entertainment)

NOO I should have. Actually I still technically have the last 35 minutes or so left- I was laughing too hard and it turned a 2 hour watch into around a 4 hour one so I had to stop before I was able to finish. I'll 100% liveblog the rest

[spring-lxcked]

listen college william is absolutely doing everything he can to get his shit together and not be Visibly Violent, but i do think him going completely apeshit, like, once would be funny