#once somerville

[bostonfly]

A art/music project (I think) that I heard this past year

[ellcrys]

renewed my car registration online on aug 2 and got my new sticker within just a few days

renewed my parking permit online on aug 2 and 23 days later i still have not gotten the damn sticker in the mail

my current permit expires on aug 31 and i leave for vacation tmrw and won’t be back until sept 3 so i had to haul ass down to the somerville parking department today on my wfh day to be like where the fuck is my permit and can i get it today?

i paid $3 for the online transaction fee and i still had to spend 30 minutes at the office to get my damn permit 🫠

[marzipanandminutiae]

You Didn't Do Enough Geographical Research For That Movie/TV Show, a game I love

The Handmaid's Tale: when June and Moira are trying to escape the Red Center, they mention trying to get into downtown Boston. but the subway station they enter has a sign that says "ARLINGTON" being removed. there IS an Arlington, Massachusetts outside the city- but it doesn't have a subway station. the real Arlington Station is in the middle of the Back Bay...in downtown Boston

The Handmaid's Tale again: Moira and Emily are comparing notes on the gay scene in Boston, and Moira says Emily seems "like a Somerville kind of girl" and mentions her going to Club Cafe in the same breath. Club Cafe, a well-known Boston gay bar, is also in the Back Bay, and Somerville is a suburb north of the city

Also The Handmaid's Tale: there are way too many hyper-modern buildings for that to believably look like the Boston area. I get that they filmed this in Toronto, but they could at least...TRY to make it look like the city it's set in? probably more than half of the buildings here are pre-1920s. June and Luke apparently live in Somerville- they take the Red Line, so I'm guessing around Davis? but their apartment is once again super-modern. most apartments in that area are duplexes built around 1910-1920

Legally Blonde: Brooke apparently has a pool and a pool house while living on Beacon Hill. Beacon Hill is mostly row houses with very little outdoor space- while apparently some do have small and/or indoor pools, it's extremely unlikely for any to also have a pool house. there just isn't any room for it

Also Legally Blonde: that doesn't look like Cambridge. at all. come on, now

Legally Blonde again: 45 Dunster Street (not "Dunston" as they said in the movie), Cambridge, doesn't have a lawn or a long front drive. it's right on the street, with just a bit of sidewalk in front. it's also not a residential house- in 2001, it was the home of the Fly Club, an all-male Harvard social club

Brooklyn 99: at one point, a criminal's alibi is that he was at a nightclub in Cape May, New Jersey. Cape May is a very quiet family-friendly resort town, with lots of Victorian summer houses converted into BnBs. my dad's cousin used to own one; we went to visit her a few times. it's not a nightclub type of place at all

[hysteria-things]

i NEED more nate smut 🙏 do whatever plot you want

GOOD LUCK CHARM

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub(ish)/soft!dom nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s your boyfriend’s playoff game for his hockey team. he knows damn well he’s confident enough, but just in case wants you to be his good luck charm.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, oral (male receiving), p in v, praising, semi-public

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 918

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my official coming out as a nate girl! recently i’ve been clawing at the walls for this man, and i hope you guys support my decision😔🙏

watching your boyfriend play hockey has always made you feel some way — like what he’s doing now.

it’s the big playoff game for somerville, especially against their biggest rivals. the other team isn’t here yet, so he’s just skating around with one of his teammates to warm up.

the stands start to fill slowly but surely, then you see nate get off the ice and check his phone. you wait patiently for his reaction, being that you texted him when he was on the ice.

you see him smile and laugh, thumbs typing away on the screen.

he’s a little taken aback by the boldness, but bites his lip and starts to undo his skates and gloves, leaving his helmet for last. “hey, where are you going?” his teammate says, leaning on the wall to talk with him. “the other team should be here any minute.”

“pre-game pee,” he says, eyeing you as you walk out of the stands and by the locker rooms. his friend chuckles and nods, skating away.

he maneuvers himself through some crowds until he spots you patiently waiting by the entrance of the boys’ locker room.

when nobody is around, he pushes you in by the face to kiss you hungrily. he carries you to the bathroom portion before you flip him around. now, he’s the one leaning against the sink instead of you.

you bite and pull on his bottom lip, causing him to groan once you move down to his neck. he grins contently when you bite down to leave a mark. “you’re going to fucking be the end of me.” he mumbles, cupping his hard-on through his uniform shorts.

you giggle into his neck, untying his shorts and getting down on your knees. you kiss the tip teasingly, his hips rutting forward from the suddenness.

sucking on the tip, he whines and starts to push your head down. you bob slowly so you can feel every inch of his dick on your lips.

his mouth hangs open, eyes fluttering back as he leans against the mirror. the palm of his hand rests on top of your head, letting you do all the work as low moans leave his lips.

“holy fuck.” he sighs. “fuck. just like that, baby.”

you hum, the vibration making the lower half of his body twitch.

his eyes are still closed, taking in how your warm mouth feels. especially when you hollow your cheeks and start to suck. that alone has nate’s chest heaving, squirming from above while he whimpers your name. “y/n, oh my god.” he bites back a loud moan, arching in the process. “fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m cumming.”

you feel his release shoot down your throat, the boy shakily gasping to catch his breath.

you lift yourself off the ground, wiping your lips seductively while looking into his eyes. “i need to fuck you so bad.” he says, grabbing your hips so you’re where he was seconds ago. he sits you on the sink, pulling down your SOMERVILLE HIGHLANDERS sweatpants.

he smirks noticing the no panties, completely soaked and ready. he loves when you do shit like that. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

blushing, you nod your head and lean in the crook of his neck. your arms snake around the back, fists balled up on your hoodie sleeves. “please fuck me, nate.” you say, looking at him with puppy eyes.

aligning himself up with your wetness, he spreads your legs wider by the knees to have better access.

you both moan as he pushes in, the stretch feeling so uncomfortable yet so good.

the thrusts are slow so you can adjust like usual, but then he gets deeper. a sound way higher pitched than the others leave you. because somebody can still hear from outside let alone walk in, you bit down on your finger to muffle your noises.

his hands roam from your waist to your thighs, grunting each time he feels your walls around him. “faster, please.” you whimper out.

“you’re killing me.” he groans, rutting his pelvis faster into yours.

you rest your head on his chest, moaning into his jersey. “right there.” you whine, toes curling in your shoes.

he lifts one of your legs so your foot rests on the edge of the sink. you grip on, knuckles turning white. “nathan!” you squeal, his rhythm getting messed up.

even though it’s his name, he’d always prefer nate, but the way you moan and scream it fucks with his head. in a good way.

breathing heavily with his lip grazing your shoulder, he looks at you guys in the mirror with hooded eyes.

the way you pulse around him, holding on as he fucks you nice and deep, hitting just the right spot. he notices your legs shake in the reflection. “looks like someone’s about to cum on my cock like a good girl.” he whispers into your ear.

that alone has you shaking harder. “uh-huh.” you answer incoherently. there’s no doubt some drool is on his shirt since your eyes are rolled back with pleasure and your mouth is agape.

he watches intently at where you’re conjoined. he nods in approval once your cum starts to slowly ooze out and onto his base. “that’s my girl.”

you love the way he praises you. it always makes your brain fuzzy.

he pulls out, finishing on your stomach. grinning widely, he kisses your temple. “thank you, baby.” he says, knowing that you’ll forever be his good luck charm.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @catalina-island @mbsbaby @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopeno1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual

[letstripdotcom]

shut up my moms calling- chris sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n i love naming my fics after songs bc then i listen to them on replay while i write.

summary- coming home from college means seeing the kid you’ve hated most your whole life. chris sturniolo. you’ve hated everything about his existence since the beginning of 6th grade when you transferred to somerville. the summer after your freshman year of college is when everything starts to change.

warnings- long(ish) smut ofc, mention of toxic relationship, choking, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl) overstimulation {i think that’s all!}

-

6th grade

i just moved from oklahoma to a small town outside of boston called somerville. it was my first day of 6th grade and i was everything but excited to go. i had a good amount of friends in oklahoma, and absolutely none in massachusetts. if it were up to me i would have stayed, but i had no choice because my mom got offered better work down here.

i walked into the crowded classroom with my schedule in hand. “is this mrs sawyers class?” i ask quietly. “yes it is, and you must be y/n?” she looks up at me through her glasses. “y-yes” i utter nervously. “nice to meet you, have a seat wherever” I walk to a more empty side of the classroom and take a seat.

“newww girlll” i voice calls out in a mocking tone when i sit down. when i look up i lock eyes with a boy with short brown hair. hes sat with his 2 triplet brothers and another one of their friends. “yeah?” i say quietly. he starts immediately attacking me with questions

“where are you from? why are you here? what school did you go to last? did you have friends” i’m overwhelmed as questions pour out of his mouth. “chris you’re freaking her out” his brother says. “i’m nick.” he smiles at me. “that’s chris, obviously, and that’s matt”

“hey nice to meet you” the third one says. “oh and that’s nate.” nick says. i nod my head looking at the 4 boys. “i’m y/n” i say. “y/n?” chris says under his breath almost inaudible. “excuse me?” i say turning my head to look at him. “what nothing.” he tries to play it off

“who decided on the name y/n, your mom or your dad?” chris asks with a disgusted but confused look on his face. “it was my mom’s best friend’s name before she passed.” i explained. “tough” he muttered. the whole rest of the class period was filled with his snarky remarks and questions.

over time, as i got closer to matt and nick, the snarky remarks from chris turned into full on arguments. anything i would say would lead to chris having something else to say. i could tell him my head hurts and he would say something along the lines of “maybe if you wouldn’t think so hard about what to say and just shut the fuck up for once that wound be a problem.” i would just roll my eyes and go back to talking to nick

-

this behavior lasted all the way through senior year of high school. i stayed close with nick and matt, which means i was stuck with chris. we got in several heated arguments over the years and they all led to me leaving the triplets house at 2 in the morning because i couldn’t physically be around chris.

our last big fight was the weekend before i left for college. nick wanted to host a small party of about 15 friends for me since i wouldn’t be seeing him again til the summer. we were setting up the decorations and chris was being extra annoying.

“chris can you actually help out and stop acting like a fucking toddler.” i snapped at him while he stood under me watching me hang up a banner. “maybe if you weren’t nagging at me every 30 seconds.” he complained. “i wouldn’t be nagging if you wouldn’t stand in my way instead of actually contributing to anything in this world” i yelled, stepping off the ladder as i finished hanging the banner.

“you act like i wanna do this party. i don’t give a fuck about you.” he spat “i might not even show up tonight because you’ve been a bitch all day long!” my heart dropped and i felt a lump form in my throat. bitch? me and chris never got along but he never called me a bitch

he knew how much i hated it because of a past relationship i had. during junior year, i was in a super toxic relationship with a kid from our school. i was so naive i had thought he had actually liked me but it turns out i was wrong. we would constantly argue and he would gaslight me into forgiving him.

i stared at chris blankly as tears formed in my eyes. “y/n i-“ “fuck you chris.” i cut him off “and yeah i think it’s best you don’t show up tonight.” i ran upstairs to the bathroom and wiped away my tears. i checked in the mirror and adjusted myself before going back down.

-

present day

i hung up the phone with nick and got in my car. i was on my way home from college for the summer, and i finally got to see my best friend. he’s so excited that he rented out a cabin by the lake for a whole week to celebrate. i haven’t seen any of the triplets since i left, i haven’t seen chris since before the party. chris. my stomach dropped and my heart started pounding when the realization hit that i would be seeing chris.

i didn’t want to see him at all. nick said he changed a lot, and maybe he did, but you can never be too sure. and he did change a lot physically. chris was much more attractive then he was in highschool, not that he’s ever been unattractive, other than his personality.

about a few hours later i called nick to tell him i was close to the cabin. i pulled in and nick darted outside. “omgggg it’s been forever” i squealed as i got out of my car. “you have to see the place!” he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the back of the house. “there’s a hot tub, a massive pool and all of this space.” he gawked at the house. we went inside as he gave me a tour of the house. “this is your room!” he announced pointing inside.

i looked around and it was absolutely beautiful. “thank you so much nick this is amazing” i hugged him. “don’t thank me too much” he said “i had to put you in the room across the hall from chris, i hope you don’t mind because i’ll work something out”

“no that’s totally fine, i’ll just pretend he isn’t even here” i smiled. he smiled back “okay i’ll be downstairs getting everything ready bc we’re gonna have movie night tonight just like high school.” he said as he left my room.

after i got settled in, i took a shower. i picked out my pajamas which was just a big t shirt and shorts and i headed down stairs happily. “there she is!” matt exclaimed, giving me a hug. “matt i missed you so much!” i said hugging him back

after i pulled away, i made eye contact with chris, who was glaring at me and matt. i shot him a calm smile and looked away. wow chris got really hot. you thought to yourself. no, chris is awful. but i couldn’t help but notice his fluffy hair and his defined jawline.

i noticed his sun kissed face, which made his freckles stand out. god i could only imagine what he looked like with my leg- no. remember what chris said to you. i snapped myself out of my thoughts and sat by nick on the the couch. he handed me a blanket and i cuddled up next to him and focused my eyes on the screen

my focus only lasted for about 30 seconds before my mind was back on chris. why hasn’t he spoke to me? because he hates me. duh. i wonder what he’s thinking right now. why am i so worried about chris? “you okay?” nick asks from beside me. “yeah i’m fine” i say in a convincing reassuring tone.

after the movie ends, i say goodnight and i head up to my room. i get situated in my bed, and i try to fall asleep but i can’t. my mind is flooded with thoughts of chris, and the next thing i know my hand is down my pants. what has happened to me?

this is chris sturniolo, the kid who’s bullied me for 7 years. i never imagined i would be getting off to the thought of him at 2 in the morning. i need to go to bed, but i physically can’t.

i get up out of bed and dig through my bags. i grab my pink swim suit and put it on. a get a towel from my bathroom and quietly head down stairs. i go out the back door and get in the hot tub. i zone out and try to find peace of mind.

i sit there with my eyes closed until i hear someone else getting in the water. i open my eyes, only to see chris. great. this is exactly what i need right now. “look y/n” his voice breaks me out of my thoughts. “i’m really sorry for the way i’ve treated you, you didn’t deserve any of it. but, we’re older now so i wanna put the past in the past”

“i forgive you” i say flatly. “really?” he seems genuinely shocked. “can i kiss you?” i asked immediately regretting what i said. “what?” is all he says before i grab my towel and run inside.

i lay on my bed for a split second before i hear a knock. i know it’s chris, but i still go to the door and answer it. i look up at him with a guilty look on my face. before i speak he’s slamming his face into mine.

he kisses me very passionately like he’s been waiting is whole life. he pushes me into my room and shuts the door behind us. he turns me and pushes me against is as he kisses me harder. one of his hands come up and squeeze my neck slightly

i moan into his mouth causing him to squeeze harder. i moan again growing super wet between my legs. one of my hands come up to tug on his hair, while the other one makes its way up his shirt.

with one hand still around my neck, he guides me over to my bed and lays me down flat as he climbs on top of me. “can i?” he asks, toying with the strap of my top. “pls chris” i whine. he unties my top and yanks it off, his mouth immediately meeting my nipple, his available hand massaging my other breast.

i throw my head back and moan as he does whatever he wants. next thing i know, his hand is coming off my throat, and down my body. he stops abt my bottoms before looking at me for confirmation. i nod desperately. his cold hands slip into my bottoms as his fingers meet my clit.

i’m a moaning mess at this point, begging for whatever contact i can get. “god you’re fucking soaked.” he says, his voice raspy and quiet. “fuck chris please touch me.” i beg “whatever you want princess” he says before putting his ring and middle finger inside of me. he quickly pumps in and out for a few seconds before i cut him of. “chris wait” i say

“are you okay did i do something wrong?” he questions. “no but i have an idea.” i tell him. i then instruct him to lay on his back and put his head on the pillow. i watch as he does what i say. once he’s situated i ask him “can i sit on your face?”

i laughed a little inside about how innocent it sounded. “of course princess” he says. i make my way closer to him as i put my legs on either side of his head. i slightly lower myself down, enough to make contact.

my legs shake as i try to hold myself up while he eats me. he lifts me up a little and says “don’t be shy baby, suffocate me.” he grips my waist harder as he pulls me down all the way onto his face. my back arches at the contact.

chris eats me like i was his last meal, i grip the headboard, and struggle to stay quiet while his nose rubs my clit. “chris i’m g-gonna cum” i whine. one of his hands come off my waist and grabs my ass, massaging it. my legs squeeze his head. and i moan uncontrollably as i release all over his face.

after i come down from my high, i get off and straddle his waist. i lean down and kiss him, tasting myself. i grind on his hard on while we kiss, making him grunt. i reach my hand down and palm his boxers as his body twitches.

i go for the band of his swim shorts and slowly pull them down, exposing his hard dick. i look him in the eyes, to get his consent “y/n please” is all i need to hear before i slowly stroke him. he moans and tosses his head back

after a few more strokes, i sit up and line myself up with him. i slowly lower myself onto him, wincing at his size as i feel him in me. once i’m fully sat, i sit still for a minute to adjust. once i’m ready i start bouncing up and down. he puts one hand on my waist to guide me, as the other one makes it way to mu sensitive clit.

“ughh chris don’t stop” i whine as i ride him. my words make him rub my clit even faster than before. my eyes are now practically stuck in the back of my head as i moan out for him. when i’m about to finish, i clench around him, making his mouth fall open. i come all over him, as he helps me through my high

“good job princess.” he grunts i keep riding him until i feel him twitch. “you feel so good pretty girl. i’m almost there.” i clench again, becoming slightly overstimulated. just then he releases, inside of me. after he comes down i slide off and plop on my bed.

“you okay princess?” he asks with concern “overstimulated” is all i can bring myself to mutter. chris picks me up and lays me in a more comfortable spot on the bed. he then heads to my bathroom and comes back with a towel. he helps clean me off before he finds the shorts and shirt i had on earlier.

he helps me put them on, then he puts his shorts on and goes to his room. i feel sad in that moment. how could he to all of that just to leave? just then he enters my room with pajama pants on. “don’t worry i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers as he crawls into bed with me.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: kinda love this what do u think?

[slut4chriss]

teach me.

pairing: chris sturniolo x virgin fem!reader.

summary: you and chris are best friends but what happens when you guys play 21 questions and he finds out you’re a virgin?

warnings: high school chris au, smut, softdom!chris, p in v, little fingering, aftercare, use of y/n, use of petnames (sweetheart, sweet girl, baby, etc.)

a/n: orange text = chris speaking, pink text = y/n speaking. sorry if this is bad, it’s my first time writing. please give me tips :). proofread

word count: 1,438

— — — — — — — — — — —

you and chris sit on his bed, playing “life”. after the first 20 minutes you were both bored. chris had been thinking for a while and finally came up with an idea. “let’s play 21 question!” he says enthusiastically. you nod, “you go first.”

he thinks for a minute then finally comes up with a question. “what was your worst sex experience?” he asks innocently. your stomach starts feeling queasy and you look down at your feet. how are you supposed to tell your best friend you’re a virgin?! you may only be 17 but in somerville high school, 17 was way too late to lose your virginity. he notices something’s wrong and he looks at you puzzled. “what’s wrong, y/n? i’m sorry if that was too personal,” he looks genuinely apologetic and it makes you feel bad.

you shake your head and look back into his eyes, your face flush, “i- i’m a virgin.” his eyes widen slight and he grabs your hand. “you mean you’ve never done anything?” your stomach does a flip as he grabs your hand and you shake your head with shame. he squeeze your hand and speaks softly, “let me teach you.” your eyes widen, “w- what?” he nods. “i’ll be gentle, just let me teach you, okay?” you swallow harshly and nod. “o- okay.” he scoots closer to you, hovering over you and gently pressing his lips to yours. you guys share a gently, emotion filled kiss. after a few seconds he pulls away with a smile.

“im gonna get nick and matt out of the house, okay? i’m gonna make this experience perfect for you.” you nod and he walks to the door.

he sees nick and matt sitting on the couch and he smiles, sitting beside them. “hey guys. y/n isn’t feeling too well and was wondering if you guys could run to cvs to get her some medicine? the medicine is only in the cvs 30 minutes from here though. i’m sorry.” nick nods and looks at matt who also nods. “what medicine does she need?” matt asks. “could you just get her some dayquil and nyquil, please?” chris smiles softly and matt nods. matt and nick leave and once chris hears the car pull out of the drive way he walks back into his room, where you’re waiting for him.

he walks back over to his bed, sitting next to you. “i want you to come sit in my lap, okay?” you nod, getting up and sitting in his lap, facing him. “good girl. now, close your eyes.” you feel butterflies as he calls you a good girl. you do as he says, closing your eyes. he lift your chin slightly and kisses you passionately. his hands rome all over your body, caressing your sides and hip bone.

he pulls away from the kiss, wiping the excess saliva off your lip. “lay down, sweet girl. i need to stretch you out a little bit.” you nod and lay down, spreading your legs slightly. chris kisses your neck softly and you let out little whimpers. you feel the heat growing between your legs and you need chris, now. he kisses down your chest and to the waistband of your sweatpants. “can i take these off, sweetheart?” he asked politely but you could hear the lust in his voice. you nod, “please.” he slowly removes your sweatpants, he sees the wetness of your panties and he smirks.

he runs his fingers over your wet panties, “this all for me?” you whimper and nod, “y- yes, all for you.” he smirks more and dips his fingers into your panties. “let me remove these?” you nod. “words, baby, use your words,” he says a bit more sternly. you gulp, “you can remove them. please remove them.” he removes your panties in one swift motion. “such a pretty pussy. all for me, hm?” you whimper as he starts running his fingers through your wet folds. “a- all for you,” you choke out behind a moan.

he licks his fingers and sticks them inside your throbbing cunt. you moan loudly and he starts stretching you out. this only makes you moan louder. he smirks and curls his fingers up, hitting that spongy spot. you jolt forward and whimper, “c- chris.. please.” he looks up into your eyes’ “hm? what do you want, sweet girl?” you look down at him and choke out, “p- please.. fuck me.” he kisses your hip bone softly, removing his fingers.

he starts to unzip his jeans and take off his boxers all in one go. his huge, hard cock springs out, hitting his stomach. your eyes widen, “t- that’s not gonna fit, chris.” he puts his finger over your mouth to shush you, “shh, baby, we’ll make it fit.” you gulp and nod.

he grabs your hands and lines himself up with your entrance. “squeeze my hands if it hurts, okay? and if you need me to stop tell me and i will. we’re gonna start with only the tip.” he starts putting his tip in you and you wince slightly. “there you go baby, you took the tip. good girl.” you feel a little sweat drip down your face, a small smile forming as he praises you. “i did it.” he nod and smiles, “you did, now let’s try half, okay?” you nod, “okay.”

he start pushing more in, he gets half way and it’s starting to really hurt, he can tell my your face. “you’re doing good, baby. that’s half way, you’re almost there!” you wince, “only half? it hurts” he sighs and nods, “i know, baby, just breath.” he smile and bring you into a passionate kiss. you guys are kissing so passionately that you didn’t even notice he bottomed out as you kissed. he pulls away with a stupid smirk, you look at him confused. “what?” “i bottomed out and you didn’t even know.” you gasp and look down between you two, you see him completely buried inside you. “i did it!” he smiles “you did it! good job, my love.” he kisses your forehead softly.

“tell me when you’re ready for me to move okay?” you nod. after a minute you’re ready. “i’m ready, please move.” he grabs both your hands and starts slowly thrusting into you. you moan softly and he hovers over you, whispering praises into your ear. “look at my good girl. taking me like a champ!”

you moan a bit louder, “f- faster.. please” he smirks and start thrusting a bit faster into you. his tip kissing your g spot with every thrust. you whimper and nod “y- yes! right there.” he thrusts a bit faster and you feel a familiar knot in your stomach. you’re embarrassed that you can’t last too long but it doesn’t bother chris, considering he can’t either because of how tight you are.

he starts thrusting a bit faster and you moan louder, “i- i’m so close.” he groans and nods, “i know, baby, i am too. hold on for one more second, okay? i want you to cum with me.” you nod and he groans loudly, “cum for me, sweetheart.” and just like that, you moan loudly and cum all over his cock. he groans and follows shortly behind you, cumming in your pussy.

he plops down next to you, slowly pulling out. you wince slightly and he pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “you did so amazing, sweetheart. i’m beyond proud of you.” my face flushes. he’s proud of me? god, he makes my heart skip beats. “t- thanks you for everything.” he nods and smiles, “don’t thank me. now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” you nod, “okay.”

he gets up, walking to the bathroom and wetting a wash cloth with warm water. he come back and cleans your thighs and a bit of the cum spilling out of you. he kisses your thigh softly then throws the wash cloth in the hamper. he grabs you a pair of his sweatpants and one his hoodies. he helps it on you then pulls you on his chest to rest.

“tomorrow we’re gonna go get you a plan b, okay? and i’m paying.” your face flushes softly and you nod. “thank you.” he chuckles and rubs your back, “don’t thank me, that’s the least i could do. now, close your eyes and rest. i’m right here, baby.” you nod and close your eyes.

“goodnight, chris. i love you.” he smiles and closes his eyes as well. “goodnight, sweetheart. i love you too.”

you both fall asleep peacefully. you feel so safe and loved in his arms.

— — — — — — — — — — —

a/n: hope yall liked it! this is my first fic so im sorry if its bad. have a good day! <33

xoxo, brookie 🪽.

[gilbertscurls]

Classroom Competition ➵ Matt Sturniolo

synopsis: two rival English teachers, you and Matt, challenge each other to an end-of-year competition to see whose class will come out on top.

You stood at the front of your classroom, flipping through the stack of essays your students had turned in earlier that week. The air was thick with the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and the quiet hum of focused minds. Your students were finishing a timed writing exercise, and you could already tell from the intensity in their eyes that they were giving it their all.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Your class was doing great this semester. They were engaged, improving their writing skills daily, and, most importantly, they were enjoying the material. You had spent weeks perfecting your lesson plans, making sure they were creative and challenging. But in the back of your mind, there was always one nagging thought.

Matthew.

Your fellow English teacher—and academic rival.

Victoria had been teaching at Somerville High for two years now, and ever since you and Matt had both started in the same semester, a silent, unspoken competition had brewed between you. You both taught sophomore English, and though you never directly confronted each other about it, there was a clear rivalry between you to see who could get the highest test scores, who could make reading Shakespeare fun, and who could inspire their students the most.

It wasn’t that Matt was a bad teacher. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was too good. Charismatic, engaging, and with an ability to make even the most mundane literature seem exciting, he was loved by students and teachers alike. His reputation for getting the highest standardized test scores among his classes wasn’t lost on you either.

But you weren’t about to let him overshadow you.

The bell rang, and your students handed in their essays on the way out. You were just gathering your things when the door to your classroom swung open. Speak of the devil.

“Y/N,” Matt greeted you with a casual smirk, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You busy?”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes. “What do you want, Matt?”

“I just thought I’d swing by and see how your class is doing,” he said, his voice smooth. “You know, make sure everything’s running smoothly on this side of the English department.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up the stack of essays. “My class is doing just fine, thank you.”

“Of course they are,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the room. He glanced around, taking in your meticulously organized classroom. “I’m sure you’re drilling those essays into them like always.”

You bristled at the jab but kept your tone light. “Maybe, but at least my students know how to structure an argument properly. I’ve heard yours are still struggling with thesis statements.”

Matt chuckled, clearly not offended. “Oh, they’ve got it down. But I prefer to focus on more… Creative approaches to writing. You know, things that get students to think outside the box.”

“Right,” you said, leaning back against your desk. “And that’s why your students are always scrambling the day before exams, right?”

He shot you a look, but his smile never wavered. “Hey, it works for them.”

You had this same back-and-forth at least once a week. It wasn’t mean-spirited, but there was definitely an underlying tension in your conversations. And today, you were determined to win this round.

“Speaking of exams,” you said casually, “did you see the test scores from last week’s assessment?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “I did. Pretty solid across the board. How about yours?”

You grinned. “Best in the department.”

For the first time, Matt’s smirk faltered just slightly, and it was all the satisfaction you needed.

“Congrats,” he said, a little less cocky now. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game.”

“Guess so,” you said sweetly.

He crossed his arms, clearly not ready to back down entirely. “Well, if we’re being competitive, how about we up the stakes?”

You eyed him warily. “What kind of stakes?”

“An end-of-year competition,” he suggested, leaning against one of the student desks. “Your class versus mine. Whoever gets the highest overall grade average wins.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly does the winner get?”

Matt thought for a moment, then his grin returned. “Bragging rights. For the whole summer. And…” he paused for dramatic effect, “the loser has to buy the winner coffee every morning for a week.”

You crossed your arms, biting your lip as you considered the offer. It was a ridiculous bet, but there was something thrilling about it. And if you were being honest with yourself, you liked the competition with Matt. It kept you on your toes, made you push yourself harder. Plus, the thought of beating him, once and for all, was too tempting to resist.

“Deal,” you said, stepping forward and offering your hand.

Matt’s smile widened as he took it. “Deal.”

The rest of the semester flew by, and true to your word, both you and Matt ramped up your efforts to make your classes the best they could be. You spent countless hours refining your lesson plans, coming up with creative writing prompts, and working one-on-one with students who needed extra help. You weren’t just teaching to win the bet—you genuinely cared about your students’ success—but knowing that you had a competition with Matt made you push even harder.

On the other side of the hallway, Matt was doing the same. He organized debate competitions, hosted creative writing workshops, and even incorporated poetry slams into his curriculum. His students adored him, and he had a way of making literature come alive in a way that was different from your more structured approach.

By the time the end of the year rolled around, both teachers were anxiously awaiting the results. Final grades were submitted, and the last week of classes was a blur of goodbyes and final projects.

You were standing in the teacher’s lounge, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for the principal to post the final grade averages. Matt stood beside you, leaning casually against the wall, looking far too relaxed for your liking.

“Nervous?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Not at all,” you lied, crossing your arms. “Just ready to win.”

Matt chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

The principal finally walked in, holding the final grade reports. She posted the averages for each class on the board, and you felt your heart race as you scanned the numbers. Your class had done incredibly well, but so had Matt’s.

It was close. Really close.

In the end, Matt’s class edged yours out by a mere half a percentage point.

You let out a frustrated sigh, crossing your arms as Matt grinned triumphantly beside you.

“Looks like I’ll be expecting that coffee next week,” he said, his tone dripping with smugness.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Matt chuckled, stepping closer, his voice softening just a little. “You know, this whole rivalry thing—it’s fun.”

You glanced up at him, your heart doing an unexpected little flip. “Yeah. It is.”

For a moment, you stood there, the usual tension between you shifting into something else—something that felt less like competition and more like connection.

“So, what’s next?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Matt grinned. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but wonder if this competition of yours was just beginning—only now, the stakes felt a little higher.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

[coochiequeens]

"She lied to a military police officer down by a hospital ship, said she was going to interview nurses about the 'woman’s angle,' and they let her on, because, as she said, no one gave a hoot about the woman’s angle. It served as the perfect forged passport for her," said Somerville. She resorted to those measures because her husband, Ernest Hemingway, tried to take over her journalist career.

This Saturday, June 6, will be the 76th anniversary of D-Day, the battle that would come to represent the beginning of the end of World War II. 

There was just one woman, a war correspondent, on the beaches at Normandy that day the allied forces liberated Western Europe from Nazi Germany: the singular Martha Gellhorn. Author Janet Somerville traces Gellhorn’s extraordinary life in her book Yours, For Probably Always: Martha Gellhorn’s Letters of Love and War.

"Since 1937, Martha had been a war correspondent for Collier’s magazine. She knew about the Allied invasion, that there was a plan to cover the Allied invasion of Normandy, and she was determined to cover that," Somerville said. 

The problem was, her very famous husband at the time, Ernest Hemingway, pulled the rug out from under her professionally.

"Hemingway had gone to New York, introduced himself to her editor at Collier’s and said ‘I’ll be your war correspondent.’ And he took her accreditation papers. Which was a bit of a problem," said Somerville.

Each publication could send just one correspondent. But Gellhorn was resourceful and clever. She found herself passage on a munitions ship from New York that would get her to Europe. She was the only woman and the only civilian aboard that ship, which landed in Liverpool. Then, she just needed to get to Normandy.

"She lied to a military police officer down by a hospital ship, said she was going to interview nurses about the 'woman’s angle,' and they let her on, because, as she said, no one gave a hoot about the woman’s angle. It served as the perfect forged passport for her," said Somerville.

Once on board the hospital ship, Gellhorn locked herself into a bathroom until they sailed. When the ship docked in Normandy, she waded ashore through waist-deep water with some of the medical officers.

"She became the only woman and the only war correspondent to be actually on the beaches at Normandy, evacuating the wounded."

Though she was there as a journalist to write about the event, she couldn’t help but tend to the wounded soldiers. She had an uncanny ability, Somerville says, to focus on what needed to be done. So when she saw that the wounded were hungry and thirsty, she set to work.

"She just took it in her stride and found somebody who could bring teapots to tip into their mouths,if they couldn't hold a glass. She just took charge and made sure that they got something," Somerville said.

She also managed to be one of many correspondents who wrote about D Day.

"The incredible thing about D-Day is that accredited correspondents produced 700,000 words of text, just about D-Day," Somerville said. "Martha was one of them. She had a piece called 'Over and Back' that Collier’s published."

Gellhorn went on to report into her old age, from all corners of the globe. She filed her last piece, about the murdered street children of Salvador, Brazil, more than 50 years after D-Day, when she was 87 years old.

Yours, For Probably Always: Martha Gellhorn’s Letters of Love and War, 1930-1949 by Janet Somerville is available at the link above, or wherever you buy your books.

[dwntwn-strnlo]

LACROSSE matt sturniolo

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, dwntwn-strnlo.

↳ 𝐀/𝐍. i love lacrosse and boys playing lacrosse and i love boys

↳ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. matthew sturniolo x reader

↳ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. matty b wins lacrosse !! whoo !!

↳ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃? no!

with seven seconds left on the clock, everyone was on the edge of their seats. somerville beating hingham by one point, and the last thing they want is for the game to get tied and they're led into overtime.

you frowned when you switch your eyes from chris, to matt. who stands at the net with visible fatigue washed over his body. his legs and shins were black and blue from bruises, and he was ready to end the game and go home.

the ball is now at the hands of hingham, and you can't keep you're breath from hitching. you knew that if matt was done, you'd at least want him done with the knowledge that his team won.

nick shot up from his seat from beside you, his hands on his head. neither of you were really into sports, but in the case of matt and chris, you could call yourself angry dads. every game is like the super bowl for the two of you.

you can't help but stand up too when the ball makes its way closer to where matt stands. "shit," you mutter. "c'mon."

its too quick for you to process when the ball is flung at matt, and he catches it. blocking it from ever entering the net. and just then, the buzzer goes off.

nick jumps excitedly and goes into hug you, but you immediately run from the stands. but nick follows you regardless of his missing hug. but splits off to chris knowing you were heading to matt.

the second matt spots you he bites down on his lip to hide a growing smile. he drops his stick and opens his arms. you're quick to jump up to matt, wrapping your legs around his waist and cupping the sides of his face.

you press a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away and congratulating him. "I knew you could do it, baby." you smile, kissing him again, "im so proud of you."

he sets you back on the ground, putting his hands on your hips, and you connect yours behind his neck. "i love you." he smiles.

"i love you," you lean back in for a less rushed kiss.

seeing the rest of the team running over to matt, you drop your hands and smile at him before meeting back with nick.

the sight of the team huddling around matt, and handing him the trophy to hold in the air, warms your heart. you want nothing else in the world, other than the fact that matt is happy.

"now are we gonna hug?" nick says, amusedly rolling his eyes from beside you.

a small laugh breaches your throat as you embrace nick in a hug. "sorry, i was just so excited."

he shares the laugh before pulling away and looking back to his brothers.

once matt and chris are able to escape the team, they make their way over to where you stand with nick.

matt snakes an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "coach is taking us out to dinner. i'd want you to come too but i don't want you to have to pay for yourself."

you giggle, "that's what my amazing boyfriend is for! he buys me food."

he smiles before pressing another kiss to your lips.

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Malevolent PT.1✯

Black!reader

Summary: Turns out I'm living in a horror film Where I'm both the killer and the final girl. So who, who are you?

In the small town of Somerville Massachusetts, a bloodbath is brewing, and Y/N Lyoncourt is in the middle of it.

games played with cell phones, gruesome murders, and scary movies

how will she survive?

Warning: alchol, swearing, stalking, gore, stabbing, knives, mentions of blood as well as organs. cheating, death, killing. read at your own risk.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

It was a crisp fall night in the town of Somerville Massachusettes. Branches on the trees remain naked as their leaves wisp across the ground due to the cold wind. Street lamps casting a warm glow down the vacant streets.

A particular street was dimly lit, the only source of light being the moon. Right under the moonlight sits a house with only one member inside.

Kehlani Summers.

The head cheerleader of Somerville High, the popular girl, the bitch that most people couldn’t stand.

Her parents were gone, leaving her to her own devices. She chose to invite her boyfriend, Dylan Holmes, over and watch scary movies before they got in the real “action”.

He was the captain of the hockey team and the most popular boy in school. girls foamed at the mouth for him, even some teachers.

They were a classic match made in heaven.

The perfect high school couple.

A typical cliche.

The perfect victims

Kehlani had just put popcorn on the stove when her phone rang. With her AirPods in, she answers the call without thinking of checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

Kehlani frowns in confusion hearing the deep raspy voice, but carries on with her task of pouring a shot of her mother's alcohol. “Hello? Who's calling?” She says. “Oh sorry, I must have the wrong number! My apologies.”

Kehlani rolls her eyes in annoyance, "Clearly. Bye"

She double-taps the small bud attached to her ear and takes her shot. As soon as she slams the shot glass down, her phone rings again. Thinking it's her boyfriend, she answers it.

"Hello? Dylan?"

"No, it's me again."

Her face scrunches up, "You clearly have the wrong number, so why the hell did you call back?" Her voice clearly holds vexation.

"I wanted to apologize." She huffs and walks around her kitchen, ditching the shot glass and just carrying the bottle. "Well, apology accepted. Now stop calling" She goes to hang up once again, but is stopped by the voice begging her to wait.

"Hold on! Don't hang up!" She peeks outside into the dark abyss before walking towards the stove. "Why shouldn't I? You're being annoying."

The voice chuckles, "I want to talk to you."

"Why so you can jerk off to my voice like a perv? Go get your fap material somewhere else bozo." She hangs up and snatches her AirPods out her ear, putting them back in the case.

She feels her body slowly start to get warm from the Titos, her movements beginning to slow. Just as she checks the popcorn, her phone rings again. She looks at the caller ID and sees it says unknown.

"This guy is annoying as shit," she grumbles before picking it up once again.

Maybe she should talk to him until Dylan gets here? She is bored and Dylan is late.

"Hello?" She speaks into the phone, jumping on the kitchen island.

"Why don't you want to talk to me?" The man asks. His voice is laced with faux confusion. "Because you're being weird. Now who is this?" she says as she watches the popcorn. "Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine." She scoffs and hops off the island, standing by the stove.

"Don't think so buddy"

"What's that noise?"

she takes another swig of Titos before answering. "Popcorn"

"I love popcorn. It's best at the movies. Why are you making popcorn?" Kehlani finds herself smiling softly at the question. Maybe it's because she's intoxicated, or because the stranger on the phone seemed genuinely curious about her night. "I'm watching a movie."

"Movie? I love movies. Do you like scary movies?"

Kehlani nods only to remember the stranger can't see her. "uh-huh"

''what's your favorite?"

The girl ponders for a moment. She honestly wasn't big on scary movies, she only dabbled. "Probably Pearl."

The stranger scoffs, "Pearl? that's not even scary and it was boring!" The girl shrugs. "Well you asked my favorite and I told you...what's yours."

"House of A Thousand Corpses."

She frowns at the name, "Never heard and it sounds gory"

"Oh, it is. Lots of blood and violence." His voice almost sounds distant, like he was fantasizing about the movie. A small shiver runs up her body.

"So, you got a boyfriend?"

Kehlani smirks at the question "Why you wanna ask me out?"

It's no secret that the teenage girl wasn't loyal to her boyfriend. hell, he wasn't loyal to her either. They both found fun in cheating on each other and making the other mad.

"Maybe. Do you have one?''

"No." She lies through her teeth.

The voice chuckles, "You know, you never told me your name."

"Why do you want to know my name so bad?'' She takes another swig of the vodka.

"Because I want to know who I'm looking at"

She chokes on the burning liquor, spitting it out over the counter. She coughs for a few seconds before speaking back into the phone, her voice scratchy. "W-what did you say?"

"I said I want to know who I'm talking to." She stands in the middle of the kitchen confused.

Was it the alcohol making her hear things? Was she truly correct in what she heard?

"T-that's not what you said..." She catches what she thinks is movement in her backyard. She clicks on the light only to see nothing. She flips off the light and locks the patio door.

"What do you think I said?'' his voice begins to make her uneasy, his tone almost predatory. "I-I have to go now!" she exclaims as she becomes apprehensive about this whole thing.

"I thought we were going to go out?"

"Tough shit"

"Don't hang up on me!"

"Fuck off!"

"Don-click" She throws her phone down on the counter and chugs a bottle of water in an attempt to sober up. Her phone rings once again and she debates on answering it.

The constant ringing annoys her and she snatches the phone up,

"I told you not to hang up on me."

"And I told you to fuck off!" She hangs up once again, only for the stranger to immediately call back. A noise of frustration leaves her throat as she answers.

"Listen ass- NO YOU LISTEN YOU LITTLE BITCH! IF YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN I'LL GUT YOU LIKE A PIG AND USE YOUR ORGANS AS THE DUMB LITTLE POMPOMS YOU LOVE!"

Her blood runs cold at the lurid words. Her whole body is tense as the hairs on her arms stand up. "I-is this some kind of joke?" She whimpers.

"More like a game."

She swears she heard the front door jingle, so she rushes towards it and locks it. She maneuvers through the whole house, locking every entrance door including the windows.

"I'm two seconds away from calling the police!" She threatens. The voice laughs, "Do it, they won't make it in time. After all, your parents moved you to a house that's about 3 miles from the nearest neighbors and about 10 from town."

Tears form in her eyes when she realizes they do in fact know where she lives. "W-what do you want? Money? I'll give you money!"

"I don't want money."

"Then what do you want?"

"To see what your insides look like."

She quickly hangs up the phone and throws it across the room, trepidation flowing through her system. The doorbell ringing pulls a scream from her throat. She rushes towards the door but stops in her tracks.

Swinging open the door could be a bad idea.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Dylan is that you?"

Silence.

"Fuck this! I'm calling the cops!" She rushes towards her phone that's on the floor. As she picks it up, it begins to vibrate in her hand.

unknown caller

Her hand trembles as she raises it to her ear. She says nothing, waiting for the stranger to speak. All she hears is loud and ragged breathing.

"Don't you know you should never say who's there? It's a death wish." The voice states. She clutches the wall and slides down as she begins to cry. "Leave me alone or- Or what?" The stranger taunts.

"M-my boyfriend will be here any minute! He will beat your ass when he finds out!" Usually threatening other people with her boyfriend works,

But not this time.

"I thought you didn't have a boyfriend."

"I-I do! He's big, and strong, and plays hockey! And he will beat your ass when he finds out who the hell you are!"

"Ohhh I'm so scared!" The stranger coos.

"Hey Kehlani, I have a question for you." She clenches her eyes shut hearing the stranger state her name. "Your boyfriend's name wouldn't happen to be Dylan, would it?''

"How do you know our names?!"

The stranger doesn't answer her question, simply telling her to look at her back patio.

Terrified of what she would find, but still intoxicated enough to listen, She hesitantly makes her way to her kitchen to look at the patio.

"I-I don't see- Turn on the light and stop acting like a dumb bitch!" She flinches and turns on the light.

The sight she's met with is frightening.

Her hockey player boyfriend is bound to a chair with rope, his mouth gagged and taped shut.

His face is bloody, but he's alive.

She lets out a loud sob at the sight and tries to run out to help him, but stops when the voice stranger speaks to her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He clicks his tongue three times and the girl can only imagine him shaking his head.

"Who are you?!" she screams in frustration.

"let's play a game."

"No!"

"Then your boyfriend dies!" She quickly pleads for the stranger to leave him alone.

"Then play the game or he dies." She quickly agrees.

"Turn off the light and go into the living room." She looks at Dylan as he pleads for her to save him. She turns off the light and makes her way to the living room.

"Here's the game, I'm going to test your knowledge on scary movies. if you answer correctly, Dylan lives. If you answer wrong... well I suggest you start writing your will."

She clenches her eyes at the thought of her death.

She tries to think of a way around this. She sees a lamp in the corner and quickly yanks it out of the socket. They can't kill her if they can't see...Right?

"Let's start.... name the killer in Halloween."

She rakes her brain trying to find the answer but she's drawing a blank. There's too much going on for her to think clearly.

The stranger knows that.

"Oh come on! it's easy! I'll even give you a hint! He had a white mask and stalked babysitters!"

"I-I can't think!" she's panicking.

"Yes you can! Use that pretty little head of yours!"

Finally...a godsent

"M-Michael Myers!"

"Yes! See? You should do fine! Dylan should live. now, name the killer from Friday The 13th!" She shakes her head, she's only on the second question and is tired of this game.

"P-please stop.." She begs.

"Answer the question"

"Jason?... it's Jason!" She remembers the movie because Dylan made her watch it.

The stranger imitates a buzzing noise, "Wrong! It wasn't Jason." She frowns in confusion. "Y-yes it was! I remember!' she urges.

"No"

"I saw the movie like twenty times! It's Jason!"

"If you say the movie like twenty damn times you would know that Ms. Vorhees, Jason's mother, was the goddamn killer! Jason didn't show up until the sequel."

She stands in the living room, stupified. Maybe she should have paid attention to the movie instead of trying to fuck her boyfriend.

"Y-you tricked me... You cheated!" she yells in anger. The stranger laughs. "Oh like you? You remember all the times you cheated on your boyfriend?" she freezes at his words.

"That doesn't matter anymore, he's out of this round and the rest to come. Lucky for you, there's a bonus round."

She's in hysterics at this point, her whole body shaking and her vision blurry.

She rushes to the kitchen and flips on the patio light.

A gut-wrenching scream leaves her mouth when she sees her boyfriend.

Blood is pouring out of his throat, coating his whole body. The mouth gag he has on is also coated, a clear indication that he is choking on his own blood.

And the most gory part,

His stomach was sliced open, his organs lay in a heaping pile on the ground, steam rising from them as if they were being cooked.

She covers her mouth and quickly rushes towards the trashcan, throwing up the alcohol in her stomach. She collapses to the ground. sobbing in fright. The image of her lover engraved in her mind.

"I have one more question for you princess."

"N-no! Leave me alone!" She pleads helplessly. She's tired of this whole night. What was supposed to be a chill evening, turned into her being hunted like prey.

She sits on the floor, knees to her chest as she rocks back and forth like a child.

"Come on pretty girl, answer the question, and i'll let you live."

She doesn't say anything.

"What door am I at?"

She sobs even harder.

"Come on. There's two main doors to your home. The front and the side door. pick "

"I- can't!" The voice sighs out in what seems like boredom. "You will. now answer."

Kehlnai shakily stands up and grabs a sharp knife from her mother's chopping block. She holds it close as she stands in the kitchen.

"The side door?" She questions softly.

The man laughs making her freeze.

"Wrong! I'm not there but he is!"

She screams as the glass behind her shatters, a lawn chair landing close to her. She takes off running from the kitchen as a shadowy figure creeps through the broken glass, the knife in her hand long forgotten. She rushes through the foyer, fleeing to the side door in an attempt to escape the big home.

She creeps around the house, trying to see where the killer is, and get away from him to safety. She comes up on the side of the house where three curtainless windows sit. She crouches down and begins to crawl along the concrete, her knees burning at the rough pavement. She peeks her head through the first window and sees the killer walking into the foyer.

She ducks back down before getting to the second window. This time, the killer is looking in the foyer closet searching for the girl.

She gets to the third window, hoping he's nowhere to be found.

Unfortunately, when she peeks into the window, she comes face to face with her reflection and a white mask.

A blood-curdling scream is pulled from her throat as a hand shoots through the glass and wraps around her neck, attempting to yank her inside through the window.

She fights, swinging her arms and pushing them away, her bare feet stepping into the glass. she manages to break free and takes off towards the front of the house, tripping over her own feet as she maneuvers through the wet grass.

In the distance, she sees a set of headlights turning up her driveway.

Her parents!

She begins screaming, waving her arms vigorously in an attempt to flag them down, hoping they can save her from the masked killer.

Unfortunately, they can't.

She's tackled to the ground, her phone flying out of her hand and landing a few feet away from her. Her body is violently flipped over, her back being pushed into the mud as the killer straddles her. She attempts to fight back, not giving up just yet.

The masked killer gets irritated with her fighting and raises their arm, the blade of the knife glimmering in the moonlight.

it happens so fast, the killer's arm swinging down expeditiously, the blade plunging deep into the girl's chest.

Her jaw drops open in pain, nothing but a croak leaving her throat.

He removes the knife, both of them looking towards the crimson color blossoming through the threads of her sweater.

She spots a rock by her legs and takes her chance.

Just as the killer raises his blade once again, she snatches the rock and slams it against his head. He falls off of her, grabbing the side of his head in pain. The girl manages to rise to her feet, snatching her phone from the ground, and staggering toward her parent who are now exiting the parked Cadillac.

She opens her mouth to call for help, but it seems as if her own vocal cords fail her, no sound coming from her mouth.

Her parents remain oblivious to their bloody daughter. Even though she is only 10 feet away from them, they fail to see her reaching out, longing for them to save her.

A sharp pain emerges in her shoulder blade, sending her to the ground. She begins to heave in pain, her whole body aching from all the fighting she has been doing. She's turned back over, her ankles being grabbed as she dragged through the yard.

Her once-cream sweater was now covered in blood and mud.

Her hearing is going in and out, a loud ringing in her left ear while her right ear is filled with the pounding of her heart. The cellular device still in her grip begins to vibrate.

Oddly enough, there isn't any more fright in her body.

She knows this is the end for her.

She's come to terms that she will die tonight.

She declines the call, welcoming death with open arms.

The masked figure drops her legs, making her look up at him.

It feels as if her eyes are playing tricks on her as two killers stand in her field of vision. They look at each other, nodding, before dropping to their knees and proceeding to stab the girl repeatedly.

She begins to choke and sputter on her own blood, her body lurching at each mutilation being made to her body. Her blood coats the masks, splotches of blood dripping down onto their already bloody gowns.

They each land one final blow into her chest before they watch the light leave her eyes.

The two killers move silently and quickly, one wrapping rope around her neck as the other throws the end around a tree branch. the one killer stands up and helps yank the rope over the branch.

The dead girl's body begins to drag through the grass, eventually lifting into the air, swinging back and forth.

They work fast in securing the rope around the tree, before admiring their work.

"something's missing."

He moves forward with his knife raised.

He plunges it deep into her abdomen, dragging the knife across her torso. Her blood splashes into the dirt, creating a mud-like consistency. He reaches his gloved hand into the wound, pulling out her intestines, and scattering them beneath her.

He steps back toward his accomplice.

"It's perfect."

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

FIRST CHAPTER OF MY NEW SERIES!!! LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK!!! PLEASE BE HONEST!!!

DUE TO THE FACT THIS IS AN INTENSE BOOK THAT HAS A BUNCH OF GORE, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE OFF THE TAG LIST FOR THIS BOOK!!!

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

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[rorylovesmatt]

All too well - Matthew sturniolo

summary - Aurora and matt have been friends for forever but one day matt introduces a new girl he’d met

warnings: slight arguing, really really bad and rushed ending

word count: 756

a/n: this is my first time writing so sorry if it sucks

༺♡༻

Aurora and Matt had been inseparable since they were toddlers. Growing up in somerville, they had shared countless adventures, from exploring the woods together to sneaking out during midnight for late night walks. They knew each other’s deepest darkest secrets, fears, and dreams, and it seemed nothing could ever come between them, they were basically attached at the hip.

Their friendship continued to blossom through high school. Aurora was the artistic one, with a passion for painting and writing, while Matt was the more adventurous type, always up for a walk in the woods. Together, they balanced each other perfectly, making their bond unbreakable.

One crisp autumn afternoon, as the leaves turned shades of red and gold, Matt called Aurora with excitement in his voice. He had met someone new, a girl named Madison, and he wanted Aurora to meet her. He was never the extroverted type so making a new friend was very rare for him. Aurora felt a strange twist in her stomach but brushed it off, telling herself she was just being protective.

When they met at the local coffee shop Aurora and Matt would spend most of their time in to study, she couldn't help but notice how beautiful Madison was. She was everything Aurora wasnt. She had an easy smile and a contagious laugh, and it was clear that Matt was smitten. As they sat and chatted, Aurora tried to be her usual friendly self, but there was an undercurrent of unease she couldn't quite shake.

One Saturday, Aurora decided to visit a certain spot in the woods, a place that held so many memories for her and Matt. As she approached the tree that they would always sit at, she spotted a certain brunette. Her heart dropped when she noticed Madison sitting next to him, giggling at a joke Matt said. The same joke he would always say whenever Aurora was sad.

she felt a lump in her throat and turned to leave, but Matt spotted her. He waved her over, but she shook her head, mouthing that she was just passing by. She walked away quickly, tears stinging her eyes. She felt like she was losing her best friend, and she didn't know what to do about it.

Days turned into weeks, and the distance between Aurora and Matt grew. She tried to keep herself busy with new art projects that were due the following week, but her thoughts were full of what Matt could be doing. Was he with Madison doing the same things they used to do, or was he finally by himself. One evening, she found herself sitting at the same tree she found Matt and Madison at the previous week, lost in her thoughts. The sound of footsteps pulled her from her thinking and she looked up to see matt approaching.

"Hey” he said softly, sitting down beside her.

"Hey" she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

"I've missed you," he said after a long pause. "It's not the same without you"

Aurora sighed. "You’re the one blowing me off for Madison"

Matt looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion. "I’ve never once blown you off to hangout with Madison you just never text or call anymore”

Aurora turned to look at him, her sadness slowly turning into anger. "I don’t bother calling or texting cause i know you’re with Madison. You’re always around her and you never have time for me anymore”

Matt shook his head. "god aurora you’re acting like you can’t function without me, you wouldn’t feel this way if you weren’t so god damn lonely and maybe tried making new friends for once in your life”

Aurora was flabbergasted, tears beginning to fill her waterline. "are you being serious right now matt? i can function without you the thing that’s just pissing me off is the fact that your showing her all of our spots and doing the same shit we used to do. if you’re gonna replace me at least be original”

Matt scoffed as he turned to look at the trees in front of him. “look i don’t want to argue with you right now but you need to understand that i can have other friends that aren’t you”

“i know that.. i just want you to stop ignoring me” Aurora let a couple of tears slip catching Matt’s attention. “come on aurora don’t cry” he dried her face with the sleeve of his hoodie and pulled her into a hug. a comfortable silence took over, Auroras sniffles occasionally being heard until she calmed down.

tags: @mattscoquette

[foundress0fnothing]

As always, for @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk. It has been such a joy to write this for you, and I apologize that it took me so long to finish it (hence the awkward timing of a New Year's Eve ending in...June). Thank you for being along for the ride and for being such a wonderful giftee! I'm so glad this experience has allowed me to get to know you better. 🥰💕

Read on AO3 or below the cut. If you’d like to start from the beginning, click here.

31 December 1918, 11:30pm

Nesta left the party early.

She didn’t think anyone would care—there was enough festivity and cheer suffusing the Archeron ballroom that, even if someone did notice her absence, they would shrug it off and quickly be whisked back into the exuberance of the evening.

And why not? They had everything to celebrate. England was victorious, soldiers had returned to their families in time for Christmas, and—most importantly—the war was over.

For most.

Nesta knew that better than anyone.

There were still some men for whom the war was ongoing, those who lingered in Somerville and hospitals like it across the country. They spent their days convalescing and trying to get well again. Some of them never would—that was the unspoken reality that the nurses knew would be the case with a few of these final patients who were permanently injured by the war in mind or body or both.

There were other men who had lost someone close to them—a brother or a friend or a lover—and for them too, the war would never quite be over. A part of them would always be buried in the mud of the trenches that stretched across the continent.

And then there was Nesta, left in a kind of limbo wondering what became of Captain Davies. She read and reread his final letter to her as if she could use it to will him back into her life, but nothing came of it.

She had tried to find out what had happened to him, but his name didn’t appear on any injury roster or official MIA registry, and even using Sr. Clotho’s influence as the head of the hospital to press higher ups for any information or to send out a search party had gone nowhere. Once, despairingly, she had looked for him on the list of the dead that was published. But there was nothing. It was as if he had simply disappeared one day, taking Nesta’s heart with him.

She swiped at her eyes as she climbed the stairs to her room, cursing herself for falling in love with a soldier. Because she knew, she knew, that this would be what happened. Why should she expect otherwise? This wasn’t one of her romance novels.

As she reached the landing to the upper floors of the manor that housed the bedrooms, Nesta looked around to make sure that no one was there to witness her flight from the ballroom that had grown oppressive under the weight of others’ celebration and joy. She had made sure that Elain and Feyre were in the ballroom when she left. She had no worries that Elain was doing her duty as a host, but she wouldn’t have been surprised to see Feyre up on this floor having escaped the confines of the ballroom to sit precariously on the roof in her nice clothes and gaze up at the stars.

But she needn’t have worried. Feyre had been arguing with a smug-looking man, and Elain had been dancing with someone whose vibrant auburn hair marked him as one of the Vanserras, a distant neighbouring family. Gwyn and Emerie had been occupied with other guests as well, chatting in a small group with a beautiful dark haired man and a blonde woman in a red dress. Nesta didn’t recognize either of them, but she assumed they were people Elain had met in her fundraising groups and charity events.

She didn’t much care anyway; she didn’t have the energy to laugh and dance and drink champagne until midnight. She just wanted to go to bed.

Satisfied that she was alone, Nesta walked down the hall to the door of her room and shut it quickly behind her.

She could still hear the noise of the party downstairs—the low hum of conversation with occasional bouts of laughter, the music of the band, the click of glasses against each other—but it was softer now and infinitely more tolerable.

Nesta sagged against the doorframe, allowing herself to relax and drop stiffly pleasant armour that had carried her through the night. There was no one to perform for anymore. They could ring in the New Year without her—they’d be better for it anyway. She wasn’t sure she had any hope worth offering. The past held too much of her heart.

Reaching up to the crown braid on top of her head, she began pulling pins out of it, letting them hit the ground one by one with small metallic dings. She would clean them up in the morning. The pressure in her head lessened as the braid fell down her back and she began unravelling it until her golden brown waves draped loosely around her shoulders.

She didn’t bother removing her dress yet. It was one of her favourites—blue with a navy and silver floral overlay that brought out the colour of her eyes—and it was comfortable enough to spend a few more minutes in as she tried to settle her thoughts and aching heart. She still felt stifled from the party, and so she took a few purposeful steps and crossed over to the small balcony at the far side of her room and threw open the door. Fresh air flooded in, bitingly cold for the sheer sleeves and open neck of her dress, but she didn’t really mind it. It was grounding, albeit in a painfully clarifying way.

Before she could take a step outside, however, there was a gentle knock at her door. Nesta groaned. Had Feyre or Elain spied her sneaking upstairs and followed her up to pressure her to come back down? Or worse, had Gwyn or Emerie noticed and come to make sure she was okay?

Another knock sounded, and Nesta sighed, resigning herself to whatever barrage she was about to face. Crossing the room again, Nesta opened the door. And froze.

For he stood before her, wearing a black dress coat with a grey cravat that would be appropriate for a New Year’s Eve ball. One arm was in a sling, and his face bore scars that hadn’t been there two years ago.

“Hello, Nurse Nes.” His face broke into a wry grin, reminiscent in so many ways of their first interactions at Somerville.

“Cassian.” She choked on his name, and her hand flew to her mouth in an attempt to stop any sobs from breaking through.

His eyes softened.“Hi there, sweetheart.”

Nesta shook her head and moved her hand down to her throat, which still felt tight. “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, not trusting herself to speak any louder.

Chuckling lightly, he lifted his free hand to cup her face and said, “Are we still pretending that you don’t like my nicknames?”

She pushed his hand away and glowered at him, hands now on her hips. The shock of seeing him alive faded as irritation took its place. “Well? Where were you? Why didn’t you write?”

“Oh, did you miss me?”

“Cassian.” Her voice was firm as she said his name this time. She didn’t want flirting and teasing. She wanted answers.

“Nes—”

“Why. Didn’t. You. Write.” She punctuated each word with a hard poke to his chest.

Cassian rubbed his chest and sighed. “It’s not a happy story.”

“Good.”

Cassian nodded, almost to himself. He then gestured to the interior of Nesta’s room where there was a small breakfast table with chairs set up in a corner. “May we sit?”

Nesta nodded and moved to allow him inside. The balcony door was still open, but she didn’t make any move to shut it, settling instead at the table. Finding out what happened felt too pressing to wait another moment.

“There was a battle,” Cassain started as he followed her to the table and lowered himself into a chair across from her. “Things were…bad.” He hesitated as he spoke, and Nesta could see that he was weighing what to tell her and what things could stay buried for now. “They had moved our unit to France, and we were told that we were to bridge the Sambre-Oise Canal. It should have been easy, after everything. Push forward, bridge the Canal, and hold it as we waited for reinforcements.”

He stopped speaking for a moment, and Nesta sat in silence with him, laying a hand gently on his arm.

“But,” he continued after a few beats, “it was…hell. I had spent the last few months in Passchendaele, but the fact that the scale was smaller here almost made it worse. It was as if the chaos of battle had been muted. I heard every gunshot, saw every one of my men who fell. And I couldn’t do anything about it. We couldn’t retreat, but we couldn’t push forward either. The battalion was penned in by the river to one side of us and the Germans to the other.”

“I was shot,” he said, and Nesta closed her eyes for a moment, a sharp ache shooting through her at the confirmation of what the sling around his arm indicated.

“Same arm as last time.” He grimaced, perhaps remembering the amount of time he had spent healing from the injury before. “Closer to my heart, this time, though. I fell, and then a grenade went off near me, I think. Or one of my soldiers accidentally kicked me in the head as he fled. I don’t know.”

“I woke up a week ago in a hospital bed. Not Sommerville, obviously. But somewhere in France. My identification had fallen off of me at some point, and with the chaos of the end of the war, they had no way to identify me until I woke up and could name myself. My brothers had tried to push the generals to find out what had happened when I disappeared, but the Canal battle was such hell, and,” he said with a shrug, “the army decided it would be a waste of resources to track down every missing soldier.”

He paused again after that, caught in the memory, and looked down at his lap. “The nurses told me I was lucky to be alive. I had stayed half-buried in the mud of the Canal for at least a day before the battle had settled enough for one of our mortuary crews to come through and pull bodies out for burial. That’s when they found me. They took me to a hospital when they realised I was still breathing.”

He raised his gaze to look at Nesta. “And now I’m here.”

“Cassian—I…” Nesta trailed off, not sure what to say in the face of all the suffering he had endured, but she kept her hand on his arm. He was here. He had made it out alive.

His eyes were bright and rueful as he laid his free hand overtop hers. “I came as soon as I could, Nesta.”

She sniffed, even as she silently savoured the size and rugged warmth of his hand. “You could have just sent a letter.”

“And miss the storied Archeron New Year’s Eve ball? Never.” He smiled roguishly, waggling his eyebrows. “Besides, this way got me an invitation into your bedroom.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes at him and ignored her body’s reaction to what he was implying. “That is entirely inappropriate.”

He was unrepentant. “You’re the one who invited me in.”

Before she could snap back at him, however, they heard muffled whoops from the ballroom downstairs. Nesta realised that it must be close to midnight. Suddenly, ringing in the New Year didn’t feel quite so bleak anymore.

She stood, and held a hand out to him wordlessly. He took it without question, and they walked outside and onto the balcony until they reached the railing. Nesta looked out into the garden. It had started to gently snow, and the grounds were covered with a light dusting that seemed to glow golden in the light of the party below them. For a moment, she let herself simply enjoy the view, holding Cassian’s hand tightly in hers. He was here.

“Twenty…nineteen…eighteen…” A chant counting down to midnight began faintly, and Nesta looked up at Cassian. “Dance with me.”

He took a step back without letting go of her hand, and bowed over it slightly, smiling. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

He led her into an easy waltz. The snow still swirled around them, but Nesta didn’t feel the cold anymore. Cassian was warm and solid and real, and she allowed herself to melt into the comforting strength of his arms.

As the countdown reached one and a cheer rose up from those in the ballroom, Cassian pulled Nesta in closer. “Happy New Year, Nurse Archeron.”

She grinned softly and then raised herself on her toes to brush a kiss against his lips. “Happy New Year, Captain Davies.”

—————————————————————————

A (very) few notes on the historical elements of this chapter:

- I’ve taken Cassian’s story of his injury from the life of Wilfred Owen, one of the most famous WWI poets. Owen died during the battle at the Sambre-Oise Canal, a week before the end of the war. I’ve shifted the timeline of the battle for the purposes of this story, so it happens in July rather than November.

- I was going to have the band play “Auld Lang Syne,” but although it had been played and sung at Scottish Hogmanay celebrations for years, it didn’t become widely popular until 1929, so I didn’t include it here.

- The descriptions of Nesta’s and Cassian’s clothes are loosely based on some of Mary’s and Matthew’s clothes.

[sturnstvs]

glasses - matt sturniolo

summary: in which a nerd and a popular kid run into each other

warnings: use of y/n

everyone knows there is a line you don't cross, weather it be in a relationship, a friendship or what not, whatever you do you don't cross that line. in this case the line you don't cross is between the low class and the upper class. your probably thinking why? why are you talking about something that only happend in the 1800's, well somerville high was not like any other school. it was not caught up with the time, so someone in the lower class wouldn't even consider being friends with someone in the upper class never mind a relationship.

matthew sturniolo was a nerd. that's what the popular kids called him anyway. besides his smarts the reason people called him a nerd and low life was because of his glasses. the ones that were always falling off his nose because they were a little big, the glasses that every other girl in the school would make fun of, the glasses that as most people would say, made him look like a dork. ask anyone who they think matthew sturniolo is and they would say nerd with glasses (even though he is a triplet) well almost everyone.

y/n green the most popular girl in the whole school. the girl everyone was on their knees for like she was the kings daughter and they would get shot if they weren't. she ruled the school just because they let her. see y/n didn't ask to be popular they just let her be. now she wasn't that kind of popular that you would worship because you were afraid of, she was no regina george. she was actually sweet and kind and maybe that's the reason why everyone chose her for the crown.

in y/n's opinion boys were low life jerks that would per sway any opportunity to get into your pants. while being popular had its upsides it definitely had its downsides as well. all the boys were trying to get in her pants. she was getting a number from a boy that was any other girls dream, she turned them all down though because there was never a guy that had exceeded her expectations until she met him.

y/n was walking down the halls of her high school at the early hours in the morning minding her own business even though three guys have already asked her for her number, when all of the sudden she ran into someone knocking both of their books to the ground.

"oh my god i am so sorry" said a voice that seemed in such a state of nervousness that he knocked more books down if that was even possible

"it's okay don't worry about it" y/n bent down to pick up the books off the floor

they continued to pick up the books off the floor every so often handing the other their book until all the books were picked up. y/n finally got a look at the boys face and almost swooned over him in an instant. his glasses were almost completely off his face from the impact. his hair, which was parted in the middle was starting to overlap, his hands that were shaking from being in the presence of y/n green herself. all in all he looked like a mess, an adorable one to y/n.

y/n reached her hand over to gently brush her hands through his messed up part trying to fix what was once there, once she was done with that she moved to his face to fix his glasses putting them back up to the bridge of his nose, admiring his eyes and the way they sparkled in the light as she did. she moved her hands into his trying to reassure him that he was safe in her arms.

"i love your glasses" y/n spoke in a tone that she genuinely meant it which made matt melt

"oh these really? i hate them, people make fun of me for them" matt told the girl in complete shock

"really cause i think they make you look really handsome" she spoke quietly all the while still holding his hands

"the names y/n by the way" she told the boy

"yeah i know, you're really pretty" matt gushed

y/n blushed at the complement. he wasn't like the others, he seemed genuinely sweet

"im matt" he replied back smiling

"i know"

his smile dropped. of course she knew who he was, he was the guy they all bullied and made fun of

"your brother nick is really funny we sit next to each other in photography class" she smiled

for once someone didn't know him off of his glasses but by his brothers, he felt his chest warm knowing this.

"ill see you around matt" she started walking off while matt was still in shock

his brothers came over to him seeing his shocked face

"are you okay? why do you look so shocked" his brother chris asked

"wait!, i almost forgot"

y/n ran back to the boy giving him a piece of paper and a kiss on the check

"hi nick! see you in photography class" she smiled before walking off to her class

matt opened the paper reading it in shock with his brothers

here's my number ###-###-####, i would love to hang out sometime, i might need some help with math :)

safe to say matt started getting teased by his brothers more often after that.

note: i'm atill trying to figure this out so sorry if this is wired anyway! this is mine! ANY OF THESE ONESHOTS ON WATTPAD ARE MINE AS WELL

[truetalesteam]

Week 2 of our Season 3 Crowdfund!

Hello Everyone!

Here at True Tales of the Illuminati, we are humbled and excited to announce that with three weeks left in the campaign, we are almost halfway to our crowdfunding goal. That means that we’ve been able to release the second of our four crowdfunding minisodes, and we’re rounding the corner towards the third! You can listen to them, and to our first two seasons, on our podcast feed now.

That’s right, our marketing strategy for asking you help us make a third season is to make a mini-season and hold it hostage! Find another podcast that does that! (Okay Wooden Overcoats, sure. Fine, we ripped them off, so sue us, they’re our heroes. No you shut up)

If you haven't heard of us yet, we're an audio comedy about conspiracies gone disastrously wrong, fruitlessly spinning the wheels of history like a car in park when you floor the gas. Inspired by (and aspiring to be) BBC audio comedy like Cabin Pressure and Hitchhiker's Guide, with rapid-fire jokes in the vein of Archer, Community and 30 Rock, we're proud to have been Audioverse award finalists for our first two seasons.

Here are a few of the things we’re excited about in our third season:

New characters ripped from the real Enlightenment-era Illuminati! Watch Beck get drawn to this group of navel gazing nerds like a pannier-wearing moth to a flame! See Jackie fall under the influence of a mysterious new mentor figure! Listen to Ishmael swill coffee and make bon mots!

New Dal! Dared to find a hobby "besides murder," watch her harass and bully shop proprietors into giving her a personality a second dimension!

Five whole episodes with an explosive two-part finale that calls upon all of Ishmael's bravery, courage and brain cells!

Here’s where the funding is going to go:

Recording studio time rental! In the past we’ve recorded with our full cast all together at The Bridge Sound and Stage recording studio in Somerville, MA. Not only does that make our audio sound great, having our cast all together, able to bounce off of each other live as we record means we get our amazing cast chemistry bubbling away to make each joke land even harder.

Paying those amazing actors! Every one of our cast members is paid for their time and talent, and as we have a big cast and tend to pack character after character into a scene, that’s quite a large line item! Why do we keep writing scenes with 5 characters in them!

Sound design! We’re once again working with the phenomenal Beth Crane and Hedley Knight, who you may know from their show We Fix Space Junk. Beth and Hedley have an incredible ear for sound, and some of the finest comedy brains out there, and they use those gifts to make sure that when a character jumps through a pane of glass, that that is the funniest pane of glass that there is to jump through.

Administrative fees! Podcast and website hosting aren't free! Look, some of these are just going to be true, not fun.

Places where the funding does not go:

Our pockets - We make this show because we love making it, and because we want to make the funniest thing we can. Every penny we raise goes right into making this show better and making more of it. The only ROI we see is getting to put something we think is really good out into the world. Does this make us fools? Economically, yes! But spiritually? You decide! (Please say no we need a win so bad)

Local political contributions in New South Wales - (we’re only 80% on where it is)

Actual occult organizations - (We don't know how to join the illuminati, no matter how desperate or strange the marketing emails we get are)(we WOULD say this though, so keep trying!) PLEASE STOP ASKING US ABOUT THEM

Non-Fiction History Books About The Weirdest Shit We Can Find - We use the library, bitches. We didn't spend a cent on The Witch of Lime Street!

Intrigued? Generous? Cool? Please help us bring our next season to life over at truetalesteam.com/crowdfund

[letstripdotcom]

shut up my moms calling- chris sturniolo x fem!reader pt2

a/n: i wasn’t gonna do a part 2 but i got a few requests for it so enjoy (or else🥰🔪) very short and not proofread

summary- coming home from college means seeing the kid you’ve hated most your whole life. chris sturniolo. you’ve hated everything about his existence since the beginning of 6th grade when you transferred to somerville. the summer after your freshman year of college is when everything starts to change.

warnings: same old same old smut 🙂

-

the next morning the sun beamed down on your face waking you up. shit. the last thing you wanted to happen was nick or matt seeing chris cuddled up shirtless next to you. luckily, you were always up before the three of them, so you had time to sneak chris back to his room.

“chris. chris!” you whisper shouted turing to wake him up. he let go and rolled off you you. “huh” he muttered half awake. “you gotta go before matt and nick wake up.” you told him. he gave you one last hug and a sloppy kiss on your neck before walking across the hall to his room.

you lied down on your bed and sighed. what would you tell nick and matt? would you tell nick and matt? what does this mean to chris? does he still hate me? my mind was flooded with thoughts. suddenly my phone buzzed breaking me out of my thoughts.

chris

u hungry?

me

yeah kinda

chris

come down in about 30 minutes:)

me

okay. i’ll shower then i’ll be down.

read: 9:23am

you tossed your phone on the bed beside you. what. the. fuck. you picked out your clothes for the day and you took a shower. you savored every last bit of the 30 minutes of peace you had because who knows how today will go.

after your shower, you head downstairs. you can small whatever chris is cooking. “i made pancakes, your favorite.” you smiled at him thankfully and took the plate from him. the silence was loud once you begun eating. “so” you spoke up. “what are we gonna tell your brothers?”

“i think telling them we talked it out would be fine. we tell them we had a deep conversation last night and we put the past behind us and were ready to be friends now. but we don’t tell them” he paused “we don’t tell them we had sex” i finished his sentence quietly. “exactly” he smiled

i finished my pancakes and went over to the living room couch. chris did the dishes and followed behind me. “you know y/n, i’ve known you since 6th grade isn’t that crazy” “yeah?” i say in a confused tone trying to figure out where he’s going with this. “i’ve known you since 6th grade and we’re adults now” he continues “and i haven’t once told you how i’ve truest felt. i’ve told you how much i hate you many times, but have i ever told you how awful every one of our arguments made me feel?”

i look at him with furrowed eyebrows as i try to think of a response. “really?” was all i could think to say. “every time we would argue like we did the night of that party, i would feel like such a dick. especially when i would catch a glimpse of you and i could tell you were crying.” he says. “then why did you do it?” i ask him.

“i’m not good at expressing emotions, and i ruined it all for myself. if i had ye chance, i would go back to 6th grade and make it all right.” he stared at you “wow” was all you could say before you found yourself kissing chris. your eyes fluttered shut as you moved your lips along his.

his tongue soon makes its way into your mouth exploring every part. you put your hands in his hair and tug slightly which makes him groan. he grabs your waist and sets you on his lap. you kiss very deeply, exploring every part of eachother.

“so i’m guessing y’all made up?” a voice spoke from behind us. jumped off of chris’s lap looking at nick. “surprise!” i awkwardly smiled at him. “thank god” he sighed. “so ur not mad?” i asked “god no. i’d rather you guys practically eat each others faces than hear yall argue for the next week. just not in front of me please.” me chris and nick all laughed

-

later that night went out to dinner, and chris was teasing me the whole time. no matter where we were he was always touching me somehow. he would run my thighs or hug my waist or whisper something in my ear. i know he was trying to get my worked up and it was working. if i could i would have let him fuck me on the dinner table right in the middle of the restaurant.

the so we got back to the house, i practically dragged him up to my room and slammed the door. “you’re such a tease” is all i said before kissing him hungrily. he grabbed my waist and guided me to the bed, laying me on my back. instead of crawling on top of me like i expected, he lowered himself between my legs.

he lifted up my dress, running his cold hands up my body as he exposed my underwear. he then started to leave wet sloppy kisses up my thighs. “chris please” i beg as he gets closer to where i need him most.

he then tauntingly pulls down my panties and sets them to the side. i moan just at how close he is me me. he then licks a stripe up my folds completely flattening his tongue. my hands immediately fly to his hair. “oh my god chris” i whine.

my legs tighten around his head as he eats me like a starved animal. chris was becoming so turned on by my moans and praises that he had to remove a hand from my waist to try to get himself off. he stroked hard and fast as he continued eating me. he moaned into me, sending tingles all through my body causing my back to arch off the bed.

“chris i’m about to cum i’m about to come” i whined. chris groaned, this mouth still not separating from my pussy. “chris please keep doing that” i begged. he groaned again. “oh fuck” i screamed as i came. chris cleaned up every last one of my juices before he lifted his head from between my shaking legs

chris stood up to get a towel, and grab me a change of clothes when i noticed the wet patch on his crotch. “chris if you needed help all you had to do was ask” i told him. “it’s fine, i just couldn’t help it you sounded so beautiful.” he smiled. i can tell he was clearly still hard. “how bout you lay down while i help you” i smirked crawling over him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n- this is the ending you get bc i’m dying from a migraine right now🥰

[bizlybebo]

Hi vixen!! What’s up how are you—

ANDHEHEBEBDB OC LORE TIME

(TW for neglect, body modifications, ableism, and disowning of a child)

Her name is Carmine Somerville. Her whole life she had lived in the shadow of her sister, Leila, who was adopted from the slums by her parents due to the fact she was aasimar who bore powers similar to a very important god. Carmine resented her sister. She felt as though her parents were replacing her with a better child because she couldn’t walk without crutches. So, she spent her childhood perfecting the construction of a spider-like backpack that would allow her to move and climb using the arms (and maybe prove she was more intelligent than Leila). It didn’t work, Leila was prettier, funnier, more interesting and kinder than Carmine could ever be. If Carmine was a good shot, Leila had divine guidance imbued in every arrow. If carmine could speak 3 languages, Leila could speak 5. No matter how hard Carmine fought in this game of catch up, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough. So, when she finally went off to university, she turned to alchemy and blood magic, fashioning braces for her legs that allowed her to walk without her pack, aided by elixirs and potions she’d brewed using hemocraft. She threw herself into this work, this addiction to improving her body, with elixirs and potions. She spent years holed up in her dorm, until a concerned professor forced her to return home for the holidays. Once she returned home, she was struck with the potential her research had. It was the final push that would leave her better than her sister. She eagerly showed her parents her modifications, begging them to fund her research so she could take it even farther. Her parents just snarled in response, calling her a “demonic” “vile” and a “stain on the bloodline”, before quietly disowning her. Stripped of her wealth, status, and pride, carmine could no longer attend her prestigious, private university, and instead had to work as a skilled tradesmen in the more low income area of the city, selling high quality potions for cheap, as well as stunning, versatile mobility aides and prosthetics. She charges what she thinks people can afford and built a comfortable life for herself, slowly healing from her upbringing. Until, by sheer coincidence, Leila appears in her shop, looking for cheap healing potions to continue a holy pilgrimage. For some reason Carmine can’t explain, she follows her, and the two begin to heal the tattered remains of their relationship.

(Disclaimer, Leila is not mine, she belongs to an irl friend of mine)

(ANOTHER DISCLAIMER, it’s like 12 am rn so excuse any typos and grammatical errors)

^ live vixen reaction

HOLY FUCK REMY THIS IS SO COOL HELLO. LIKE FIRST OF ALL THE ART IM. AAAAAAAAABCNFMEKGKEK GOD THATS SO PRETTY IM OBSESSED W THE SHAPE LANGUAGE AND THE CLOTHING AND THE MECHANICAL SPIDER BACKPACKARM STUFF.

ohh the fucked up siblings <333 i love how her disability is an important part of her character that adds to her story while she still has a whole personality on its own. oughh i will never not love charscters determined to prove themselves

and i LOVE inventor characters so fuckin much too. i need to bite her. the mechanics through which you explain hee spider backpack and the braces that let her walk are AAAAAA.

“she charges what she thinks people can afford and built a comfortable life for herself, slowly healing from her upbringing” IM OBSESSED WITH HERRRR