#nyc point gods

[tasmagor]

The Demo for Perfect Tides: Station to Station comes out tomorrow!! This is the first background I made for the new game, my ode to the fictional 23rd street of 2003 :)

[tsuchinokoroyale]

We fucking hate NYC I met a very nice young woman who told me my $6 liquor store soju wasn’t the same quality as the one she paid $20 for at the bar and I was like you’re right because liquor store soju was actually flavored vs the plain soju she had

[applecherry108]

So I have never spent any amount of time looking at a map of nyc in all my 31 years of life, so getting on Google maps and staring and studying and Realizing™️ some shit has been hilarious and surreal.

I did not know that their famous subway does not connect to Staten Island.

They were not kidding, that island is Long

The Statue of Liberty is technically in New Jersey waters???

The statue is way further inland (in-bay?) than I realized.

Hell’s Kitchen is larger than I gave it credit for

It’s also like. A block away from Times Square

It always fucks me up that Central Park is. So. Rectangular. Perfectly rectangular. I Know nyc is “a grid system mf” but the park still looks like that image of Colorado superimposed on a natural borders map of the us. It looks weird.

I am not, however, surprised at how fucking massive the park is. I Knew one (1) thing about the city, and it was that.

I truly did not understand that the City is on 3 separate fucking islands. Like I know I have no concept of anything and I know I’ve never had any special interest in nyc, but the more I look at it the more I feel like I’ve never absorbed any information about it ever in my life.

Yonkers.

[i-dont-giv-af]

I’m better then everyone I know. But I still hate it here. What the fuck is this world bro? I’m venting I guess but I’m high.. I love weed. Okay it’s 3:33am though ayeee .. but bye bye beauties Gn/Gm! I’ll come back soon xX

[lusalemaart]

uwu

[sunsburns]

okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…

oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)

the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.

you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.

logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.

that son of a bitch.

he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.

it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.

logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.

a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.

and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.

but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.

"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."

"shut the fuck up, wade."

logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.

wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."

logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."

from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.

every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.

jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?

you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.

one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.

what the fuck was this?

he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.

when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"

you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."

"yeah, no problem."

he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.

you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.

"you're logan, right?"

he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."

"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."

logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."

"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."

and you were gone again.

logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.

he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.

you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.

you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.

though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.

to you**

to come to you.*

sorry. typo.

[planned-obsolescence]

god-tier sydcarmy fics

no one asked but i'm suddenly overcome with gratitude that fic writers just drop these gems for FREE. we are so lucky. these are the ones i constantly reread because they make me feel so much.

all of these are rated M or E because if they ain't fuckin, i ain't reading.

five times at a simmer; once boiling over by seh28 my kink? emotional intimacy. that's what these two need more than any bullshit stars. this fic serves it up like it's a floor donut and i'm carmy straight up eating that shit.

friends, partners, and intimates by sashafiercer i'm always here for it when syd gives carmy what he deserves. and i'm DEFINITELY here for it when the dialogue between the two is so on point it gives me whiplash. written by an all time 🐐.

forget about your house of cards by minecrafter42 i love reading about how carmy can't get it together in sydney's presence. this fic presents their dynamic so viscerally that the slow burn is more like a slow simmer. i needed a cigarette after i finished this one.

temper, temper by malariamonsters have you ever read anything so beautiful it made you cry? yeah, this fic. it's at the top of the tag for a reason because it captures carmy's consuming love for syd so perfectly. i want to live inside this fic.

child with a child pretending by emilybrontay sydney has a baby before she starts working at the beef, and carmy knows what bluey is. i'm done. i am very picky when it comes to stories set in sydney's POV (my girl is a complex masterpiece, you better get her right), and this is one of the greatest, most thoughtful.

Mise En Place by badcircuit love fics that present syd and carmy as partners in every sense of the word. beautifully written, hot as fuck. another one that gets syd right. again, i take portrayals of my girl so seriously and this one is gorg.

Take Care by oysterknife oh boy. this one literally came out last week but i already read it upwards of 10 times. i will read anything oysterknife writes but GODDAMN. this one changed my brain chemistry with the emotional intimacy between the two. i love longing and yearning and this one is like a masterclass in it. the literary references made me kick my feet and giggle. as a brooklyn girlie, THIS is the nyc i wanna see: flushing, crown heights, greenpoint minus the condos, shitting on the residents of murray hill, i want it all. also the ending made me sob. not joking.

[maryleclerc]

𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 — charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which after everything, charles and reader end up back together. become a family!

warning: use google translate, english is not my native language. this is the first ending, which mean reader will end up with charles, i’ll post 2nd ending soon. i do not claim any of these images as my own

i know i know, why’s so peaceful? i wanted if reader end up with carlos than i’ll make it more dramatic! so wait for my ending with carlos!!

please if you wanted to be tag in any of my future work, you can reply or dm me! thank you!! 🤍

read part 01, part 02

deuxmoi

3,918,622 likes

deuxmoi Our first image of Y/n and Charles today in NYC together. Taken by a fan today!!

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brianng If they are really back together, i’d be real happy to know that my wishes finally came true

ynscharlesleclerc They’ll always be the best couple of my heart

megancharles She’s ruining other people happiness, she’s the reason why Charles broke up with Meg

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername and 4,091,672 others

charles_leclerc I think today is a suitable day to write this article. Just like the rumors these past few weeks, about Y/n and I, I want to confirm that Y/n and I are back together and we are very happy now. We also prepare together to welcome our little angel. Also thank you for all of your concern

tagged: yourusername

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ynusernamefan I am happy for you

charlessgoddess It’s seems like this is their fate, after so many things had happen to both of them, they still find their ways to get back together without even trying

yourusername

Liked by yoursisterusername, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername Sharing all of my favorite saved in my gallery while enjoying few weeks left in my last sem 🤍

tagged: yoursisterusername

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uhbbjorn_ What’s your favorite part of being pregnant Y/n?

⤷ yourusername The most favorite part of being pregnant is when you can feel the baby’s kicking

jenniej__ Have you had any ideas for the baby name yet?

⤷ yourusername Actually me and Charles both like the name Ceres and Agnes, but haven’t will fit her

charles_leclerc with yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 6,180,044 others

yourusername Ceres Faye Leclerc decided to come on her own schedule 4 weeks early. Born 12/20 at 20:20 👶🏻🧸 and her papa @charles_leclerc was made it in time.

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arthur_leclerc ❤️ my niece

geeherst Congratulations and blessing! This is so incredible

kathykeeth She’s so little, I can’t 🥹

shhanann Her name feel so like goddess

wired

Liked by charles_leclerc and 4,441,810 others

wired [HIGHLIGHT] Some of the most cutes moment of Autocomplete Interview Couple Edition with Y/n and Charles Leclerc today.

CHARLES: Hi! I’m Charles Leclerc

Y/N: I’m Y/n Y/l/n soon to Y/n Leclerc and today we’re with WIRED Autocomplete Interview

BOTH: Family Edition

Q: Have you ever google yourself?

Y/N: Oh yes I have, only once

CHARLES: I never google myself —

Y/N: Why?

CHARLES: I mean… I don’t know

Y/N: Okay first question, are you ready Charles?

CHARLES: More than ready soon-to-be Mrs. Leclerc

Y/N: [Chuckle] Stop it, first question “Is Y/n Y/l/n single?”— Well guess what, I’m still available

CHARLES: What? No you’re not, you’re mine [Laugh]

Y/N: Okay okay I’m just kidding, so is Y/n single? No, I’m not single and already engage to this gorgeous man sitting next to me

CHARLES: Next up “Is Charles Leclerc nice?”

CHARLES: I don’t know, ask her [pointed at Y/n]

Y/N: Yes he’s the nicest person I’ve ever met

Y/N: “How did Charles and Y/n met?”

CHARLES: Well we met through Y/n mom, like everyone already knows. So it’s was on Christmas Eve and my family just casually having dinner together at this restaurent called and then all of a sudden my mom just point at Y/n whom also sitting with her family and said “Oh my god, Charles ressemble à un ange, va lui parler, Charles” which mean “Charles she look like an angel, go talk to her, Charles” and everything started from there.

Y/N: [Laugh] Yea, I remember that I heard something in French and just right the moment I look up, I saw his face. But there is something I haven’t told you, that when I step into that restaurent I already like really like into you.

CHARLES: Awww I know you do had crush on me baby

CHARLES: Next question is “How many childens do Charles and Y/n have?”

CHARLES: We have a daughter and her name is Ceres Faye Leclerc, she’s my treasure

Y/N: And she’s a spitting image of Charles

Y/N: “How many children do Charles want?”

CHARLES: I’m a family guy you know, I got to say that my ideal is to have 3 kids but —

Y/N: Wow that’s take lots of work to do Charles

CHARLES: But after witnessing what Y/n went through during the birth of Ceres, and all the difficulties that came with it after giving birth, I have reconsidered this. Actually, for me, how many children I want is not as important as whether Y/n wants it or not. After all, the one who gives birth is still Y/n not me, so I always prioritize her choice.

Link in bio for full WIRED Autocomplete Interview with Y/n and Charles Leclerc

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charles_leclerc Thank you WIRED for the best Interview 🙌🙌

yourusername We have so much fun time with WIRED Autocomplete Interview. Thank you WIRED!!🙌

helenaandersson THEY’RE ENGAGE!!!

lulnan One of the best interview WIRED had done so far!!

macharlesitan Never knew Charles could be this sweet

kitt._ I need a man like him in my life 😩

⤷ alexandraandersson Too sad, a man like him on this planet are RARE

( taglist ) @janeholt3 @formulas-bitch @celestialams @aundercover @1655clean @amalialeclerc

[at0michips]

home sweet home — josh o'connor

summary: your long distance boyfriend decides to move all the way to NYC so you can live together, but with all the work he has to deal before he can enjoy it, you decide to take care of the move. now after long weeks apart he's back.

Today was the day, where Josh was finally going to come back home after months of doing press all over the world and the country. Well, not exactly home. Yes it was his house, and yes he was going to live there with you after a year and a half of being together, but with two new movies out and a whole press tour that included being only a few hours away from you and your new house in New York, to being literally across the world, the poor english man didn't had the time to be there to even unpack the things he brought from England or the ones you bought together.

However, you promised yourself this wouldn't be a problem at all. He did what he had to do and you would be there no matter what, of course it was kind of energy draining to deal with your work and moving in but you made it! You would finally be able to be with him by the end of the day, and the dinners wouldn't have to be over facetime anymore with a different time zone. Not complaining tho, you were forever grateful for when your boss sent you to England to cover an event were you met you now boyfriend.

You were so excited that you could also feel a little anxious too, making sure that even after everything was on it's place for two weeks now, there wasn't anything wrong. Not like Josh would get in the apartment and start pointing out the things you could have done better, he wasn't that kind of person, and he also knew better that going against you but you just couldn't help but want everything to be perfect for your first night together in your own house to be just perfect.

And apparently everything was just fine, his favorite meal was in the oven and shouldn't be ready for at least the next 30 minutes, meaning you had plenty of time to do nothing. With that in mind, the wine bottle on the countertop that you bought on your way from work seemed perfect to ease your nerves while you waited for Josh to come home, wich by your counts could happen anytime now.

Time actually flew after your second glass of wine and sometime (you have no idea of how much) scrolling through tiktok that you were actually surprised when you heard the doorbell, and with that you looked like an anxious kid running barefoot to open the door to see the person you were craving to see for weeks now. The first thing you do is throw yourself at him who's more than ready to catch with his strong arms and lift you up just a little bit of the ground.

"Oh my god I missed you so so much!" you said before attacking his cheek with kisses. You could finally hear his pretty laugh close to your ear and the fact that it wasn't through a phone call was so relieving.

"It seemed like forever without you luv." he said putting you back on the ground with a stupid smile on his face, while he admired you for a moment before connecting your lips together in a quick kiss. The man ahead of you looked exhausted yet so happy to finally meet you again for what felt like ages.

After realizing you guys were still outside of your house, you take his hand and pull him inside, excited for finally having him to yourself.

"You're making dinner? It smells amazing in here" he said with an excited tone as he entered your now oficially shared house and locked the door behind him.

"Guess what it-" but before you could finish your sentence he was already taking a look in the oven "Josh no! Why are you like this?" you pouted.

"Aw babe, I can't believe you did my favorite." he said turning back to face you and failed to hold a laugh after looking at your frown "M'sorry for antecipating the surprise luv, i'm starving!" he took your cheeks into his hands and lowered himself a bit to give a peck into your lips, that immediately made you melt into the man's hands.

"Okay, but next time wait until I finish my line. Now go wash your hands." you said with the demanding tone Josh missed for what felt like an eternity.

The male did as you told him so and went to the bathroom to wash up as you took the dish into the dining room, serving each of your plates with the food you made and your glasses with the already opened wine. Everything was ready when he got back, and you guys proceeded with the dinner, sharing stories from each other works, giving updates about friends, family and silly things from your routines.

It seemed like you guys were never apart from each other, like this was just another regular night of your little life together and not the first from what you hoped would be forever. After dinner, the man decided that the dishes could wait until tomorrow, he didn't wanted you to work more. He knew your weeks has been exhausting, having to wake up early, do your job and then take care of the small renovation in the house and the move. And he knew that today even after the apartment was ready, you haven't stopped, going to work and then making him dinner after arriving.

What has he done to deserve someone so caring? That thought didn't left his mind for one second the whole night, and he was determined to make you feel the same, at least a little bit. With that in mind, you guys went straight to the bathroom of your suite to take a shower together.

It was such a sweet and intimate moment. Of course it wasn't the first time you guys took a shower together, but there was something about his gentle hands on your shoulders and all the way down your back while he kept up a small conversation about the little things he noticed around the apartment that just made this moment so special for you. In your eyes this was real intimacy, being able to be naked and so close and yet don't feel the need to be having sex with each other. Of course you were missing him in bed, god how many times you had to please yourself while he was away, but for now that moment felt like it was enough for both of you.

After the bath, you put on your pajamas and were now on your shared bed with some of the gifts the british man bought you during the press tour. Most of them came with a "oh this one reminded me of you" wich just melted your heart.

"I figured this one we could use together, what do you think?" he said holding a face mask next to his face. You laughed, like how cute could a 34 year old man be?

"Of course my lord." you said with a fake british accent and started tying up your hair while he rolled his eyes at your mocking and proceeded to open the packages.

"And now what?" he asked as you tidy up the mask on his face.

"Well, the package says we have to wait 10 minutes and then take it off." you get up and start to put away your gifts and hear the body of your boyfriend dramatically fall back in your bed, to wich you return with your everyday lotion in hands.

"Let me take care of it for you." he sits up and basically takes the lotion out of your hands and motioned for you to lay down "Relax for a bit, you must be tired...".

He's right, luckily is a friday night and you won't have to worry about waking up early in the morning for the next two days. So you do as he said and lay your head on the pillow and just enjoy the sensation of his long fingers coated with your lotion massaging your feet, slowly working his way up your leg. You smile at the sight of Josh caressing your skin so carefully, his face so concentrated but it was impossible to take him seriously with that mask on that you closed your eyes, choosing to just enjoy your broyfriend's affection.

It must have been the wine, the calming sensation on your face and the loving touch of your boyfriend, but after your eyes closed it only took five minutes for you to doze off. Josh laughed a bit when he realized that, he gently left your feet in the bed while he stood up to put away your lotion and turn off the lights, coming back to carefully take the mask off of your face, taking his own next.

The man stretched himself before laying by your side and pulling the covers up both of you. He was so tired of the long flight, but so grateful for you to be there, always caring so much for him, the thought of going back to his house in England was boring, but after getting to be with you tonight it sounded even worse, it would be sad. There wouldn't be nobody to receive him by the door, or a warm dinner for him to eat, or someone for him to share how exciting it was to be all over the world and have his work recognized by millions of people.

You shifted in your sleep finding your way to his chest and he could swear that this was the moment his heart melted. It wasn't only today, he had noticed your effort all around the house, how you made sure all his favorite stuff had a visible place so it could be exposed or put to use. He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, slowly giving in to sleep with a warm feeling in his chest. He was finally at home.

[answer2jeff]

ready for another lie?

// carmen berzatto x reader

song: Diet Mountain Dew.

pairings: nyc chef!carmen x journalist!reader

mdni!! i'm not responsible for your media consumption.

warnings: smutty smut, VERY DETAILED, fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), porn with plot, drinking, cursing, kinda subby carmy, praise kink, alludes to piv but it doesn't happen, complete and utter filth, i'm giving the people what they want don't look at me!!!

essentially a prequel, 1 year before the start of season 1 of The Bear.

"Fuck youuuuu! It's Friday, loosen up!" A groggy voice yelled from across the bar, cursing you for declining another drink.

You watched your friends flirt with the bartender over the course of 2 rounds of shots; causing harmless fuckery with the several guys who tried flattering them. You were actually bored for once. It made you sick.

You waited for something, anything else to impress you. You tried convincing yourself you didn't have to leave, that your friends wanted you here, and that nights like these were "good for your soul," but there seemed to be no hope.

"Just two vodka tonics. Oh, and a white Negroni. Uh, yes— yes, thank you." You caught a blonde curl from the stool next to you in the corner of your peripheral vision, and you dared to turn your head. You were met by the sight of an oddly familiar guy—and then it hit you like a semi truck.

The man you wrote your final thesis on "the senses creating art," about. Food & Wines best new chef, as of late.

You'd spent an entire year and a half traveling the world (after finally making a name for yourself as a journalist, and snagging a place in Food & Wines top writers) and interviewing the faces of all forms of modern art, representing one of each of the 5 senses.

Casey French, a fragrance designer as the face of "smell." Christopher Knowles, a fashion designer who specialized in optical wear as the face of "sight."

The list went on, until it ended at Carmen Berzatto, on "taste," just 6 months ago. It was September now, and you almost forgot about the 2 and a half hours you took from your day to sit down and talk to him in that studio. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you felt the pores in your palms release a nervous sweat.

You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were really seeing him— out of all the other Friday nights, when he could've visited all the other bars. But he chose this Friday, at this bar, next to you. You needed to say something.

"I'll take a Negroni too, actually. And you can just close out my tab for tonight." You handed the bartender your card after you anxiously fished it out of your wallet, trying to seem completely oblivious to Carmen's stare. Carmen clenched his teeth, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he kept his gaze focused on you.

"Holy shit! Is that—" A slightly younger man nearly yelped while he inappropriately pointed at you, quickly being shut down by his peer, and being told to "shut the fuck up," but Carmen stayed silent. He was dumbfounded at the sight of you.

"Uh, hi. Funny seeing you here," you croaked, swallowing hard when you realized how much of a horrible excuse of a "hello," that was. Carmen didn't seem to mind, dragging his head out of the clouds and smiling back at you as he received his glass.

"Oh my god, yeah. Wow, I— it's good to see you."

Carmen glanced down at your drink, watching you trace your fingertip around the rim of the short glass. He gazed at your fresh manicure, the beautifully layered rings on your fingers, the diamonds on your wrists, the black dress with a slit that exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh. Carmen always thought you looked nice, only being used to your blazers and gorgeous vintage pants that he was a little jealous of, but this was different.

And as if you weren't already anxious enough, Carmen's "friends" immediately arose from their stools and made their way to an empty table, leaving the two of you alone again. Just looking at him and his clean suit and tie made you nervous, especially with the ink on his hands still visible.

"Good to see you too, Carmen," you smiled, cheeks aching as you tried desperately to hide your excitement. Admittedly, you admired him. That wasn't new. But that feeling in your stomach, that aching, yearning feeling was.

"I don't usually do these things," Carmen mumbled, taking a sip from his glass and licking his lips.

"Me neither. It's kinda— I don't know, icky."

You knew Carmen avoided big gatherings like this, but they were usually tolerable thanks to people who "knew him" enough to let him hang around their groups in silence while they practically screamed at each other. But his free time just never seemed to align with anyone else worth talking to... until tonight.

"Icky. Couldn't have worded it better," Carmen tried not to laugh at your expense, keeping his tongue between his teeth as both of you fought back a smile.

"You get it! God, anyway—how've you been?" You inched closer to him, resting your chin in your palm as your elbows were propped up on the counter. You made sure to keep your stare on him and only him, glancing from his nose, to his lips, and back into his eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was too late to stop now.

Carmen paused, his mouth gaping open slightly as he thought of what he could possibly say to convey that he could be doing better, without completely ruining the mood. He sucked his teeth as he took a deep breath, his eyes glued to the floor until he finally looked at you again.

"Alright, I guess. Managing. How're you?"

"Managing. But really though. Like, has anything changed?"

Carmen thought about your question, realizing how much he seemed to relax tonight—while simultaneously being the most nervous he'd ever been outside of work in the last year. Was it being out and public after a long week? Was it the fact that he still felt so stupid for not getting your actual number, and instead only having access to your business email which was provided by your agent? Was it the smell of your perfume? Was it just you?

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess some things have changed."

He couldn't help but awe at the way you did your hair and your makeup that night, appreciating the tiny details your jewelry and purse of choice added to the look. He hardly ever thought twice about the attractive women he'd run into; making small talk and watching them get bored with his interests.

But now you were here; his fantasies, his desires were here, right next to him; wearing a dress that flattered your cleavage and cinched you at the waist, black heels that tapped against the footrest of the barstool. It made his head foggy, and he couldn't even wrap his head around the encounter.

After finishing your Negroni's over the course of 3 separate conversations that left you with a cramp in your side and your cheeks hurting from smiling—basically hitting it off like you were actual friends, you decided to pull the classic...

"You wanna get out of here?"

Two successful, somewhat well known adults in their lines of work were allowed to be human, right? They were allowed to share deep belly laughs with someone they didn't originally plan to see outside of a work setting, right?

Wrong. It was unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted: everything you promised you'd never be around him.

Carmen knew this.

But he was eye-fucking you in that goddamn interview. His tattooed hands rubbing against his thighs as he sat in front of you in the white light of that studio, his gentle voice contradicting his large, almost intimidating arms—it was all you could think about when you wrote your thesis. And now you were gonna be alone with him.

And despite his worries, despite the nervous sweat beading on his forehead, despite his growing anticipation when he admired your figure like a horny teenager, Carmen agreed. The smirk on your face and your manicured nails in between your pearly white teeth was convincing enough. He knew it was risky, given the fact that you still wrote for Food & Wine every couple of months: being more than capable of ruining his career with one wrong, but so right move.

"Yeah, actually."

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Fuck it.

Carmen closed his tab, gently helping you down from the barstool by your hand. You held your purse close to you while waving a shy goodbye to your friends, who were drunkenly squealing in excitement for you. Carmen's peers seemed to be out of sight; therefore, out of mind. You felt your cheeks go hot, every part of your body tingling. Neither of you knew where you were going. Just not here, and not with everyone else.

He couldn't even think about the fact that he would be back in the glowing white light of the kitchen that following Monday, and you completely forgot about the paper you had to start by Sunday night. And it was way too late to care about any of that now.

You decided your apartment was best.

"Fuck.." Carmen grunted under his breath, his eyes hooded while he felt his pants tighten against his throbbing length. He spread his legs wider as you palmed him, trying to ease some of his tension. You hovered over him as he lied down, sprawled out on your leather couch. His hands were clawing at anything he could reach; your hair, your thighs, the straps of your dress until he pulled it down to your hips, and finally the clasp of your bra.

His bare chest heaved, red and covered in sweat. His dress shirt, tie, and jacket were somewhere in the mess of your apartment. He was honestly too desperate to care.

"You okay with me takin' this off?" Carmen whispered as he cupped your cheek, keeping his fingers prepared to unclip your bra with your permission. He admired every inch of your flushed face as he waited for answer.

"Mhm," you soothed him as your hand moved up and unbuttoned his pants the second your lips moved onto his. Saliva pooled in your mouths with every kiss, turning into a sloppy mess of tongue and teeth. Carmen struggled, but eventually tossed your bra onto the living room floor, his mouth just centimeters away from yours as he exhaled heavy breaths.

You sat up straight, pulling Carmen up by his shoulders and smashing your lips back into his. He pulled sway to breathe, taking it upon himself to peel the rest of your dress off. His tattooed hands gently caressed your plush thighs, his calloused fingers sliding under the hem of your lace underwear. He practically worshiped you like this, planting open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck.

Carmen needed to hear you, feel you, taste you.

"I wanna taste you, if–if that's alright," he placed one last kiss of gratitude on collarbone before he looked up at you through lust-blown, half-lid eyes.

Your entire body began to heat up again, and Carmen's words went straight to your needy cunt. You could feel yourself dripping through your panties while you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment, nodding frantically.

"Please," you begged, a mixture of a moan and a silent cry escaping. Carmen's hands detached from your thighs, your hips writhing up from the loss of contact. Without another word, he nodded his head, letting his hands travel down your hips as he got down on his knees in front of you.

Carmen took a shaky breath, glancing from your pleading eyes and back down to your bottom half. He hesitated, choosing to plant one more line of kisses from your tits down to your navel before giving you one last look for permission. He put his hand between your inner thighs, asking you to spread further. You blinked slowly while he peeled your panties off of you, wondering if he would notice how wet you already were.

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Carmen licked his lips, admiring the sight of your puffy slit in hesitation. With your body sprawled out in front of him, your pretty face looking down at him...how could he not eat you out right on that leather couch?

"I've got you, baby," Carmen cooed, his eyes wide as he nearly drooled over the glossy puddle in your underwear. He gently placed your calves over his shoulders, his calloused hands scooping the underside of your thighs.

Carmens wet tongue licked a bold stripe from your hole up to your soaked clit, not a drop of your arousal going to waste. You grew impatient, the kitten licks he gave your sensitive bundle of nerves driving you mad.

"C'mon, Carmy, I—" You whined, pleading that he'd pick up the pace. Carmen decided not to hold back, giving your throbbing clit aggressive sucks that he'd later soothe with slow, flat-tongued licks.

You bit down on your hand while the other entangled in his hair to muffle the sinful noises you made. Carmen felt his stomach turn at the sound of his name falling from your gaping mouth.

Carmen took note of how much you loved his tongue diving into your weeping hole, earning whimpers and cries of "please," and "oh, fuck, Carmen." He groaned into your pussy when you caught a grip on his hair, placing his head even deeper between your thighs. He moved his hands from your thighs and up to your waist—forcing your jerky hips down on the couch. He wanted to make sure you didn't miss a single bit of pleasure.

"Can I.. uh, can I try something?" He stammered, picking his head up with his chin shiny with your liquids as his hand crept back down, prying between your folds. Carmen needed to keep every part of him busy so he wouldn't have to focus on the aching bulge, already leaking precum in his boxers. He felt his thighs clench as he fucking whimpered beneath you.

"S–sure.." You nodded frantically again, tossing your head back as Carmen carefully inserted a digit into your core. You whimpered in slight discomfort as he stretched you out, which he immediately reassured softly.

"Shhh... you're alright. Jus–just relax f'me, yeah?"

Carmen waited until you whined again; his fingers started at an agonizingly slow pace until he heard your moans getting a little too quiet for his liking. He picked his pace up, sliding another thick finger into your hole and ramming into your g-spot. He hesitated, afraid to hurt you—but you quickly dismissed his worries when you urged him that you needed more. Carmen aligned his tongue back with your pussy, sucking hard before comforting your desire with lapping at your clit.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, your grip in his hair tightening while your moans grew louder and louder. You didn't care if your neighbors could hear you through the thin walls of your apartment. You didn't even think about what this would look like the morning after—because none of it mattered. Not with Carmen's head between your thighs.

Carmen could tell you were close, prioritizing your pleasure before he could even register how badly he wanted to cum into his boxers. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward, begging for friction while every noise you made just inched him closer to his release... but he needed this to last.

"You close? Let me take care 'f you," he mumbled, breathing heavily against your pussy while he tried his best to stay still. It sent shockwaves through your body, and you tried desperately not to scream his name.

"So... so close.. Fuck, it's too much," your useless protest was cut short by a loud moan, muffled by the sweaty palm of your hand. Your heart pounded in your head as your walls clenched around Carmen's fingers. You weren't used to anything feeling this good in months.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it. You're alright. You're doing so good. Takin' my fingers so fuckin' good," Carmen's raspy voice comforted you. His tongue finally came back to relieve you, his fingers slowing down so as to not overstimulate you, as much as he wanted to.

"Carmy!" Your eyes screwed shut as your thighs shook. You chased your high, practically grinding into his face as his nose bumped your clit while his fingers remained at work.

—

"Jesus..." You panted, grunting in disappointment when you felt Carmen slide his fingers out of you. He licked them clean while your eyes were screwed shut as you tried to recollect yourself. Carmen planted a kiss on your temple the second he sat back up onto the couch, pulling you into his lap by your waist. You felt his erection against your crotch, his already sticky mess combining with your wetness yet again.

"You okay?" Carmen cupped your cheek, pushing any sweaty strands of hair out of your face. And just when he thought he couldn't have felt more proud of you, he melted into the feeling of your lips against his.

You didn't know if you'd ever see him again, you didn't know if this night would magically become niche hot gossip within your respective groups; all you knew was that you wanted him. His lust blown eyes on you, his hands gripping your waist as he bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you dumb, the sound of sex echoing through your apartment.

Maybe some other Friday night.

[shyshitter]

holy shit watching the pjo movie for shits and giggles and i forgot how TERRIBLE it is as an adaptation. it is. However. herculeanly CAMP. the joss wheden level shallow interpretation of Percy Jackson ever. i don’t have the brain power to explain so i will just dump. percy and grover are canonically in high school. percy lives with his mom. they BLACK SIDEKICKED GROVER. percy’s boy band emo fringe. WEARING HEADPHONES IN THE MUSEUM WHILE BRUNNER WAS TALKING. “leaving you was the hardest thing he ever did” speech. pierce brosnan is chiron. alexandra daddario. the high school lock eyes across the field “she’ll eat you alive” shot. leather harnesses instead of camp shirts. the hogwartsification of camp half blood. “my father is poseidon. yup, we’ve known all along. here’s a quest that i forbid you from going on.” no clarise. annabeth and percy fight at the end of capture the flag. luke’s private cabin with an entire video game system. “i broke into my dads house and stole these shoes and shield hope they help you on your quest to find fUCKING PEARLS i guess also here’s a glowing map that tells you exactly where to go.” the complete misinterpretation of the major plot points/locations/relationships/characters in general. annabeth is a 90s bridewife heroine who makes snarky does she like him does she hate him comments the entire time. percy is a 16 yo dweebjock who makes incel turned hero comments the entire time. grover is a polyamorous slut who makes black sidekick comments the entire time. percabeth’s h2o just add water pool scene. “our parents speak to us in our minds and give us advice” THEY DRIVE MOST OF THE TIME. percy uses the flying shoes multiple times. they get high in a las vegas casino. the entirety of the casino scene. GROVER TRIES TO PAY CHARON, GUARDIAN OF THE UNDERWORLD, WITH $170 AMERICAN DOLLARS CASH. rosario dawson persephone hits on grover IMMEDIATELY. gay roman soldier miniature as hades. the bolt was in the shield luke gave them. persephone’s kissem and stab ‘em move to take the bolt. “you can’t take your mom because you only have three pearls :(“ grover volunteers to stay and percy like doesn’t fight it at all and persephone immediately has offscreen sex with him. luke’s “im the lightning thief” speech. the sky battle with the flying shoes. “maybe they were wrong. maybe you’re not a son of poseidon.” *immediately drowns in electrically charged water* “idk. maybe i am i the son of poseidon.” *makes a water trident and throws it at luke, careening him across nyc into the hudson river* the way the movie takes away all agency or criticism from poseidon’s/the gods’ shitting parenting by inventing a law by zeus forbidding gods from making PHYSICAL contact with their children. grover getting horns and elevating him to “senior protector” bc i guess they had to rate his protection skills for some reason. percabeth’s almost kiss turned “never let your enemy distract you” ya novel vomit. PERCY PUTTING MEDUSAS UNCOVERED HEAD IN HIS KITCHEN FRIDGE WITH A “NEVER OPEN THE FRIDGE EVER LOVE PERCY” NOTE, PROMPTING A PETTY GABE TO OPEN IT AND GET ROCKED BY MEDUSA. truly the rick and morty parody of a 2010 YA fantasy novel turned franchise movie. it’s defining redeeming factor: annabeth is taller than percy.

[donascozylivingroom]

LET GO OF THE STRESS AND HUSTLE TO 'GET THERE'

I was scrolling through tiktok and i found a post by someone who told me if i am comfortable in my life i shouldn't be, because i am not working on my next level. i got annoyed and skipped, two videos later: "if u want to be more comfortable..." ... skip!

i'm tired of society convincing us where we are is not ok. i either must want to be more or less comfortable, never accept my life and improve upon the life i have right now with as tiny steps as i feel i can right now.

guess what - I AM COMFORTABLE! And I love it.

I used to be a master at hustling, doing everything i can to get my million dollars and NYC Penthouse. Manifesting didn t work for me until i learned to robotically affirm and persist, and since then i am getting everything i want. And yeah I still have resistance to 2 of my only big desires, everything else i'm getting affirming 1-3 times because i assume i only need to affirm once and i get it, i repeated that for a while and ever since manifestation has been so easy.

And yeah just because i didn t get my 2 main desires yet, I AM COMFORTABLE. I understand that those things I want so much are part of my soul lessons and why my soul came here. God/Source/myself before this life decided to make some things harder than others, and that's okay.

My whole life i was either uncomfortable because i didn t get something external, or worried - why am I so comfortable?

I learned to never do anything that is not easy because my plan for this life is to FLOW, but still i was fed by the media that i am not perfect as i am, or where i am. It's not true.

Wherever you are, it's your starting place, your zero point. And if you are experiencing it, you are probably meant to be there. I mean look around u in the present moment, not to your mind. Are you okay? You're meant to be here, boo.

How can you make your life more beautiful where you are? How can you be more grateful for what is around you? What you already have.

There s no rush, you don't have to get there tomorrow. I know when you are young it seems like you have to do everything very fast, and the speed of manifestation on this planet has improved since i was a kid, everything seems to be more light and fast, BUT...

There will probably be a few more years until the speed of manifestation will be instant, especially for every single thing.

You are part of a collective, a collective consciousness, and everyone must be on board until they push the START button from above 🤭😁

We are literally on this mission together, it's not just about you, it is about the ascension of Earth and its citizens.

Don't stress! Make it your job to relax whatever happens and you will see small improvement after small improvement which will lead to an easy, chilled life that is financially supported by the Universe enough that u have time to do your affirmations, your journaling, your shadow work, etc. Make it a habit to not stress, because stress is always misaligned since it doesn t feel good.

My life currently: affirming, journaling and pinteresting most of the day while in bed...earlier i did groceries and got a lot of things i love to eat and would be considered expensive where i live. Spent 120 euro today and i am in europe. I don't work. I only manifest haha. I'm yet to be at the financial level i want (one of my two desires i'm working on) but i still live a comfortable life, a life that energetically i wish i will have once i have lots and lots of money, because the vibes are amazing. I'd rather have this warm house and bed, friendships and good vibes than a view from the last floor in NYC from my bed, while ridden with anxiety and loneliness.

Ya know.. Everything will be ok, if you struggle to affirm meditate and try your affirmations just once to check how it feels with eyes closed within your inner being..and then check more affirmations one at a time... and ask yourself, your inner being: what do i really need? what do i really want? and when you are clear, then start repeating and manifesting.

good luck!

[keepdrivingrry]

WOULD’VE COULD’VE SHOULD’VE

summary: in which y/n dated a famous actor at nineteen, got heartbroken, wrote a song and met the love of her life.

face claim: blanca soler

Liked by y/nfan1, y/nfan2 and 12,763 others

y/nupdates y/n seen out with her boyfriend robert pattinson!

view all 314 comments

y/nfan1 AWW I LOVE THEM TOGETHER

y/nfan2 I’m worried about her

↳ y/nfan3 why??

↳ y/nfan2 robert Is literally in his 30s and she’s only 19 she’s bound to get heartbroken

y/nhater1 can’t wait for them to break up 🙄

Liked by sukiwaterhouse, gemmastyles and 3,873,763 others

yourinstagram 🖤

view all 63,535 comments

sukiwaterhouse so cute

↳ y/nfan1 that seemed so fake 😭

y/nfan2 ROB AND Y/N

florencepugh happy for you my love!

↳ yourInstagram I miss youuu

harrystyles congrats x

↳ harryfan1 HARRY?

y/nfan3 she’s so gorgeous

Liked by sukiwaterhouse, y/nfan and 45,763 others

enews robert pattinson and suki waterhouse seen locking lips today in NYC. robert is apparently also in a committed relationship with singer y/n l/n. more at the link in bio 👀

view all 543 comments

y/nfan1 I FUCKING KNEW SHE WAS ACTING WEIRD

y/nfan2 UH ROB????

y/nfan3 poor y/n

florencepugh wtf

y/nfan4 EVEN FLORENCE IS CONFUSED

sukiwaterhouse please delete this.

y/nfan5 bitch you got caught already what’s the point???

deactivate yourinstagram !

two years later..

Liked by harrystyles, y/nfan and 17,763,863 others

yourinstagram soon.

view all 752,663 others

y/nfan1 Y/N BESTIE I MISSED YOU

y/nfan2 NEW MUSIC?

harrystyles ❤️

harryfan1 HARRY?

y/nfan3 WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON

harryfan2 okay what is going on???

Liked by harrystyles, sukiwaterhouse and 20,862,762 others

yourinstagram sooner.

view all 862,652 others

harryfan1 why is Harry so early??

y/nfan1 NEW MUSICCCCC

y/nfan2 SO EXCITED

florencepugh so excited for you!!!

y/nfan3 ew suki’s here 🙄

harrystyles proud of you xx

annetwist so excited to hear it darling! 🥰

harryfan2 WAIT ANNE TOO??

Liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 35,763,863 others

yourinstagram would’ve could’ve should’ve. out now.

thank you to everyone who helped me through the past two years.

and to the love of my life who taught me how to love again and not having to relate to this song again. you know who you are <3

view all 1,082,763 comments

gemmastyles SO GOOD!

y/nfan1 GIVE ME BACK MY GIRLHOOD IT WAS MINE FIRST

y/nfan2 STOP THIS SONG HAS BEEN PLAYING NONSTOP

annetwist amazing sweetheart!! 🥰😍

harrystyles you deserve everything great coming your way. I love you.

harryfan1 Y/N AND HARRY??

harryfan2 OH MY GOF

y/nfan3 OKAY TOOO MUCH NEWS

Liked by yourinstagram, mitchrowland and 12,863,873 others

harrystyles love of my life.

view all 652,662 comments

harryfan1 OH MY GOD

harryfan2 congratulations 🥲

y/nfan1 Y/N DESERVES HIM

yourinstagram I love you

y/nfan2 she looks so much happier with him then robert and I’m here for it.

sukiwaterhouse cute!

harryfan1 NO GET HER OUT OF HERE

pillowpersonpp 😍

thank you for reading xx

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Just wanted to point out about your post about Zoe, according to the MLB trading cards Zoe’s school was the school from the NYC special. Her only friend that wrote on her shoes was Jess, the Sparrow.

(Post that spawned this ask)

I give you genuine thanks for the "fun" fact, but by the gods is that asinine. This is not the kind of thing you save for a fun fact! It's the kind of thing you put in the actual show to give us a good story! Just, why??? Zoe didn't even get a cameo in the special!!! It's like they only had the idea after the fact and now they're trying to claim credit for the thing they completely failed to do. I just, gahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

[gif description: the Marvel character Thor angrily flipping a table full of food, sending it scattering across the floor.]

[utilitycaster]

How can Molly's death be considered a major mistake? It's the crux of the entire campaign.

so I think about this a lot, because you're right, and it really comes down to like...a lot of factors in how people interact with fiction, and some stuff I feel about fandom.

The short answer is that Molly is some people's favorite character, and they really wanted to watch him for 141 episodes and not just 26, and they didn't get to, and so it's valid to feel sad about that. But I think what personally grinds my gears is the idea that it's a mistake and because this is a Fan Favorite character he SHOULD have come back. Setting aside the fact that he had both his fans and his detractors from the start and a lot of people (myself included) who found him irritating didn't say much for a good chunk of C2 because, well, he was dead, this isn't a fucking competitive reality show. You don't get to vote on your phones to decide who wins a resurrection.

I think the longer answer is that there is a certain type of person in fandom, born of a certain type of person in social media communities, who just...is not willing or interested in considering not just that their experiences, preferences, and philosophy are not universal, but also that they are not objectively best and correct and that everyone who disagrees is wrong. It's often really common in, though not exclusive to, people who have particularly limited experiences - young (like, teenager/early 20s), people who haven't lived in a diverse area or in multiple different areas, people who for whatever reason do not get out much - which both makes sense (haven't been exposed to a ton of different perspectives irl) but also means that you get people who, for all they may talk about global politics, kind of unconsciously seem to act as though everyone they interact with online is a variant of someone from the same 3000 person town in the United States in which they've spent all 21 years of their life. ANYWAY getting back to the main point I feel like Molly attracted a lot of that kind of person, who just...doesn't get that while Molly is, to them, a deeply validating expression of gender identity, for many people he is "guy you meet at your friend's birthday party in a two-bedroom 6 floor walk up and within 5 seconds he has pissed you off so profoundly with his overfamiliarity that you go into the kitchen and mainline as much vanilla vodka as possible to not stab this guy with a secondhand knife that says "CHEESE!" on it even though you hate vanilla vodka and it's summer in NYC and you're on the 6th floor in a small apartment with too many people so it's approximately 117 degrees Fahrenheit in this kitchen and the vodka isn't much cooler, and you succeed in this goal, and then after sending your friend who couldn't make it because they were at a family thing that weekend a picture of a rat on the tracks of the 3 train with a caption "this u?" at 1:54 in the morning you're like "so this guy Molly was there" and they're like "oh my god I met him at Cameron's last party, he SUCKS" and you're like "I KNOW". Like a lot of people just do not get that Molly was very popular with their circle, and also a lot of people either were neutral-to-not-feeling-it. This is before we get into the post-death idealization of who he was that takes him from "irritating but I think he'd have grown on me in some ways eventually had he lived" to "horrible and insufferable fake-ass bitch."

And then we get to the true impasse: the idea that something that does not fulfill every single one of your personal wishes might still be a great story.

I'm certainly not perfect, and there's things I thought I wanted for the end of C2 that I didn't get, and there's some things I do wish we'd have gotten to see (or that we'd have done in C3), but I like to think that I try to remain at least partially open to the possibilities. I like to think that my enjoyment of a story isn't contingent on whether one single character survives, even if they are my favorite (and I say this as someone whose favorite ASOIAF character was immediately Ned Stark, a statement that should surprise no one who follows me) nor that the story precisely reaffirms my existing worldview. I want stories to tell me something new and interesting that wouldn't come from my own head, and I want them to sell me on it. I think that a lot of people lost the thread of the importance of representation, namely, they forgot that while it's great to see people like you in a story, you should also be trying to see people not like you and perspectives that aren't yours. I am extremely defensive of my and other people's right to say "I didn't like this story and here is why" without someone being like "Give it a chance! Here's why I think it's good" but at the same time, there is a difference between "I really wish Molly had stayed alive and I don't like that he died," and "everything that happened after he died was A Mistake because it wasn't what I Wanted, and someone should fix this." Like that's what toddlers do. That's not an adult way of interacting with narrative.

So those people don't even get to the point of "the entire campaign is deeply influenced by the loss of Molly; that is what binds the rest of the Nein together and makes them what they are; the fact that Lucien wears the face of a departed friend is crucial to the entire final arc comprising about 20% of the campaign; and the fact that he does not come back, but someone new, with new chances and new choices to make does is emblematic of a campaign about people who find that they cannot undo their pasts, but neither are they trapped or damned by them." They're stuck at "guy I liked died and I'm throwing a tantrum 6 years later."

[artiststarme]

Let's Get Out Of Here

Aha, the writer’s block is gone! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you guys like it! Please leave your thoughts in the comments.

~*~*~*~

Eddie had wanted to leave since he stepped foot into the god-forsaken town. As soon as he’d passed the town’s border in the backseat of the social worker’s sedan, he knew he didn’t belong there. Hawkins was everything he despised about society; white picket fences for the rich, small town boys who thought they were better than everyone else, and snobby adults that turned their nose up if he so much as looked at them.

So yes, he’d been imagining a way out since he got in. He’d imagined Corroded Coffin making it big and getting to leave Hawkins together, best friends living the best life on stage while sharing their music with the masses. They wouldn’t be the outcasts that people treated like shit beneath their boots anymore, they would be something important. Unfortunately, that dream was squashed by his experiences over Spring Break. His old friends wouldn’t so much as glance at him much less leave town to hit the road with him.

Gone were the friends that would listen to him narrate a campaign for hours on end. Gone were the the friends that would drop everything to practice one of Eddie’s spur of the moment song ideas. After Spring Break of his third senior year, Eddie was alone.

He managed to avoid criminal charges by the skin of his teeth with a bogus alibi fabricated by the surprisingly-still-alive-Chief Hopper. He was finally able to graduate from high school and get a full time job to raise some money. But everything else was ruined. The friends he’d had since sophomore year were gone, the trailer he’d called his home was savaged, and his body was marred with gruesome scars that still wrought pain on the worst days.

On the bad days when the pain kept him in bed, he’d fantasize about leaving Hawkins. New, more achievable dreams centered around moving someplace new with Wayne. They’d pack everything up in the van and truck and just take off. They’d leave the tragic Midwest behind and head somewhere bigger like LA or NYC to take the world at storm, Munsons against the world as it had always been. Unfortunately though, they just didn’t have the funds to do that. Wayne couldn’t leave the plant when he had no savings to his name. And Eddie didn’t have anywhere near enough saved from working at Thatcher Tire to support them both.

He still had nothing going for him in Hawkins though. The harsh glares and pointed insults had only worsened since Chrissy’s death. He had to leave. But, he’d always been a coward at heart and he wasn’t brave enough to leave on his own. He would be trapped in the town that hated him until he died or something happened to force him out.

The one thing he had still was his family. It had lost several members but it had gained even more. The Party had managed to creep passed his defenses to find a place in his broken heart. Steve and Robin in particular grew close to him, assigning themselves best friends of Eddie Munson 1 and 2, respectively. They would hang out around Wayne’s new trailer, bother him at work, and he’d bother them at theirs.

It was on one of these impromptu hang-out sessions that a spark of hope developed in his chest. He’d been mourning his cowardice and inability to leave in silence until Steve started complaining about feeling trapped in his empty home. It was then that Eddie saw an opportunity.

“I don’t know, man. I know it sounds stupid, how can I feel trapped in a big house? But there’s just nothing there! And it’s, it’s suffocating, man. I don’t know how much longer I can stay there.”

Steve murmured his words against the end of a cigarette, his body leaning against the side of the car that Eddie was pretending to work on. But how was he supposed to focus on changing a timing belt when the object of his affections was expressing a will to leave?

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Eddie nearly fell over as he rushed to reassure him. “Hell, I’ve felt suffocated since I got here.”

Steve hummed softly and took a puff of his cigarette.

Eddie smirked sardonically and chuckled to himself. “Maybe we should leave together. You could stop being a ghost in your parents house and I could stop being the murderer that killed his classmates. We could get a place together and decorate it half jock, half metal. That’d be a sight.”

Steve looked over at him with squinted eyes. “Really? You’d want to leave with me?”

“Why not? You’re one of my best friends, Stevie. I’d love to leave with you.”

The suspicion melted from Steve’s expression and a genuine smile took its place. He dropped the cigarette to the gravel ground, pulled the tool from Eddie’s hand and pulled him into an all-encompassing hug.

“Let’s do it! You and me. And Robin, I don’t think she’d let me move without her. We’re a package deal, if that’s okay.”

Eddie laughed and it’s him, high in the moment despite it all being a joke. “Of course! You can bring your emotional support lesbian and I’ll bring my Sweetheart. Then we’ll take the world by storm.”

Steve held onto him for another few moments before pulling away. “Okay, when do you want to leave?”

The smile fell from Eddie’s face. “Wha- seriously? You actually want to leave with me?”

“Um, yes? I feel like I made that pretty obvious.”

Eddie blinked. “Um, okay. How about the end of the summer. Then we’ll have enough time to find a place and raise some cash.”

Steve grinned. “Sounds good! I’ll tell Robin. See you later, Eds!”

Eddie could only watch him skip to his car in shock. Steve continued to surprise the hell out of him. He’d shocked him in the Upside Down by being a genuinely good guy. Again when he’d fought the entire basketball team two weeks afterward to protect Eddie’s honor. And now with plans to rescue him from the stifling hatred of Hawkins.

When he pulls him into a gentle kiss as soon as they step into the apartment with Robin behind them griping about carrying all the bags, that’s a nice surprise too.

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