#once somerville

[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

[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

[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.

[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

[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

[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🥰

[domini-porter]

Little Fic For You: My Neighbor the Cop (PG, I guess?)

NOTE: as you may know, I’m a compulsive writer (not being self-deprecating; sometimes it sucks when I’d rather, like, sleep in), and I have a complex about it! I wrote this (other) little one-shot today, and it’s kind of stylistically different, and also I just don’t really feel like posting it to AO3, so it can just be for us locals, yeah?

————————————————-

My neighbor the cop has lived in the unit next to mine longer than I’ve lived in Boston at all, and I’ve lived here way too long. I’d move—somewhere cheaper, or nicer, or quieter—but it’s close to my work. And, okay, because of my neighbor the cop.

I’ve only talked to her a few times over the years. Usually when she’s apologizing for having her door kicked in by some psycho, like that’s her fault, but if we see each other in the hall it’s always one of those little half-nods that say I acknowledge you, but let’s leave it there. I don’t mind, since I don’t, like, love cops. My parents thought it was great, that I had the police right next door, especially since they’re convinced I’m gonna get murdered every time I even think about going outside, until I told them she was the kind of cop who attracted psychos who kicked in her door all the time; they were less excited after that.

She’s hot, I guess, even though she’s a cop. Tall, like model-tall, and skinny. Long curly black hair that she always seems to wear down, even though it seems like it would get in the way when she’s, like, chasing bad guys, but what do I know. She almost never smiles, which isn’t any of my business, but it does keep me from smiling at her, too, so it’s this weird mix of courtesy and being what seems like kind of an asshole. Maybe because she’s a cop, or maybe it’s the reason she became one, but she doesn’t seem to really like her life, at least from what I can tell. It’s not like I love mine either, so no judgment.

Except sometimes she seems really, really happy. Which is part of why I keep renewing my lease, even though the landlord’s a real deadbeat piece of shit. This thing next door, it’s better than cable.

She’s got this one friend—she’s got a brother too, another cop; I only know this because they don’t so much talk to each other as shout, but I’m from a chaotic Italian Catholic family too, I get it. And he seems nice enough. Way nicer than her. Except when her one friend—“one” meaning “only”—comes over.

She’s also really hot, but more like some European movie star from the ‘70s, when Halston jet-setting va-va-voom was the thing. Or maybe she’s just rich, but—and I know this makes me at least kind of a creep—I was three days from signing a lease on a place in Somerville when I saw her come over for the first time, and it made me call and cancel. Not in a pervy way, but because even though my neighbor the cop has made the local news more than once, her pretty friend was immediately the most interesting thing about her. Again: not in a stalkery, mouth-breathing way, it’s just that when she started showing up, the whole atmosphere shifted. My neighbor the cop actually smiled at me once. And anyway, this place really is close to work.

She came over a lot for a while, like twice a week, and I noticed my neighbor the cop would be gone a lot, too, like twice a week, and once I saw her getting dropped off by her pretty friend after a couple days, which seems like something totally obvious, right?

Except one night my neighbor the cop came home drunk—stumbling into the walls, dropping her keys, having a one-sided argument with her pretty friend loudly enough for me to hear through my bedroom wall as soon as she’d slammed her door behind her.

Her pretty friend didn’t come back for a long time after that night, so I figured they’d broken up—cop’s loss, obviously—so it was more surprising than maybe it should have been, and way more shocking, when a week or so later she dragged some bland-faced dude up to her place while I was picking up a package in the lobby. Surprising, because it was way faster than I would have expected. Shocking, because I would have sworn on a stack of bibles that she was your stereotypical dyke cop—the swagger, the sneer, the high-femme girlfriend—but she must have been on some kind of extreme rebound since I heard them later that night, the bed thumping against our shared wall as she—unconvincingly—panted and moaned his name.

Casey. Like my youngest female cousin. Probably some Freudian coincidence. Or some Freudian intention, I dunno. I’m not the one faking it with some crew cut to get back at my super-hot ex.

He came around for a while, pretty regularly for a few weeks, but one night there was some sort of fight—a bad one, the kind where everyone’s talking low and quiet—and then he stopped coming over, too.

My neighbor didn’t even nod at me in the hallway for months after that. Her pretty friend eventually started coming over again, though not nearly as often, and for not nearly as long—they didn’t really laugh together any more, either, which made me sad, which made me realize how invested I was, which made me feel weird, but I was in too deep. Meaning I’d just renewed my lease a month before, after another place fell through.

But then something really bad happened to my neighbor. Some new psycho. She was gone for a long time, and then when she came back her brother was with her, and her mom—who’s really nice; at least she reminds me of my own nosy aunts—and, trailing behind them, looking both kind of nervous and also like she was trying to look like she wasn’t scared to death, her pretty friend, a leather duffel bag over her shoulder.

The brother gave me a friendly greeting when I went to take out my trash; we shook hands, I wrote down my number to give to his sister in case she needed anything. We both knew I was just being nice, but he seemed to appreciate it, anyway. Told me his sister would be laid up for a while, but her friend would be around a lot to take care of her, so I didn’t need to worry.

Then later, when I was cleaning up after dinner, her friend knocked on my door. Introduced herself as the cop’s co-worker—I’m pretty proud of how I managed to not snort a skeptical little uh-huh, but she seemed pretty stressed out—and thanked me for offering to help, that my neighbor really appreciated it.

That time I did snort, my neighbor’s pretty friend grimacing, apologizing for attempting to lie, that she literally couldn’t, but she wanted to make sure I knew she, at least, appreciated my thoughtfulness.

She smelled really good. I always assumed she would.

Listen—I admit I have a crush on her, but I’d seriously dare anyone not to. But not in a gross way, I swear—more like she seems fascinating, and kind, and like the sort of person you just hope everything goes well for. So maybe less of a crush than an admiration, while also not being able to help imagining what she might look like naked.

We only talked that one time during my neighbor’s recuperation, but she always gave me a smile if we ran into each other in the hall, one that got more and more genuine as the days went on. Not because she liked me any more than usual, but because my neighbor the cop was obviously recovering nicely—not three weeks later one of my picture frames rattled off the wall as she crashed into it from her side, whooping about a home run. It should have been annoying, bad-neighbor stuff, but honestly I was mostly relieved that she was feeling better, if only because it seemed to make her pretty friend feel better, too.

It was obvious her friend was trying to delay the end of her tenure as nursemaid, and that my neighbor the cop didn’t really seem to mind. She kept staying over even after I saw them hauling armloads of groceries up the stairs, the cop carrying a full rack of beer under her arm, not even winded. I admit, seeing them seemingly back to their old selves—well, what I considered their old selves, before that business with the Freudian rebound—made me feel like something nice had happened to someone I actually knew, cared about, instead of some parasocial creep eavesdropping on her neighbors.

But I suppose it’s not a terrible thing to feel happy for relative strangers, and again: they’re both, like, improbably attractive, and there’s always high-stakes hijinks going on, it seems like—I didn’t even mention the Mafia stuff, like I wouldn’t recognize a goon anywhere—and like I said: better than cable, especially now that it’s nice enough to open the windows again.

I get that deliberately eavesdropping is both shady and distasteful, and I really wasn’t even trying, it’s just that they were hanging out as usual—this was after the cop had fully recovered and they’d sort-of-pathetically ended their temporary sleepover, so it was back to the occasional clink of glasses and snatches of my neighbor’s pretty friend laughing at something she said, interspersed with my neighbor’s occasional whines about something or other, usually having to dress up.

I’d still, even now, love if someone would explain to me how these two weren’t in a committed, hetero-coded relationship straight out of a 90’s cable show, one that was maybe a little too heavy on the male gaze. The sporty-butch cop moaning about wearing a dress, her lipstick wife cooing and cajoling until she inevitably relents and they go out together, looking like a screenshot from a Bette and Tina episode of The L-Word. This happened all the time. Way more than any girlfriend and I had ever squabbled-as-foreplay.

But they weren’t fucking, somehow. I acknowledge it did take me until Boy Casey to realize I’d never actually heard my neighbor the cop have sex before. Not that I had to make an effort; our walls are basically Kleenex wrapped around balsa wood. It had simply never occurred to me; I guess I’d figured if she and her pretty friend were dating, they just never had sex at the cop’s place, probably because of the walls. Instead, it turned out they just . . . never had sex, a realization that made me grab my metaphorical popcorn, especially after the unceremonious exit of Boy Casey and the gradual return of Pretty Friend.

But. It was a nice late-spring evening, my neighbor in a grand mood because the Sox won—something I appreciated too, which I think my neighbor knew because if I could hear her TV, she could hear mine, so I figure she felt comfortable being a little more cheerful than usual—and she and her pretty friend were talking and laughing in the living room, which I could hear since I was in my own living room, waiting to see what came on after baseball, when everything suddenly went quiet.

Not like they were both looking at something on a phone. Like, quiet-quiet. Something’s-happening quiet. So quiet I held my breath in my own apartment, feeling like an idiot but still afraid to move, in case whatever quiet thing going on next door would be spoiled by me scratching an itch on my foot.

I’m not into any of that spiritual astrology shit, but I have been a lesbian for a long time, and I could tell—with certainty—that something was happening next door. It was like the air changed, so dramatically it was leaking through into my apartment. The vibe had gone from chatty cheerfulness to . . . whatever it was now, something that made me hold my breath, just in case.

Either my neighbor the cop or her pretty friend had to—had to—be finally, at last, making a move. There was no other explanation for the abrupt silence except both their mouths being occupied—whether it was the cop who kissed her pretty friend or vice versa wasn’t important in the moment, except to them of course, but I couldn’t help wondering.

I still haven’t found out, because that would be unquestionably creepy, but as time has gone on I’m coming down on the side of the pretty friend finally figuring out how to lay the groundwork obviously enough for the cop to figure out that groundwork had been laid; she’s been decorated by the city and the Commonwealth, so she has to be good at her job, but the way she wandered around in a daze for like two weeks after made me think it’s one of those scenarios where the femme finally realizes the butch is too afraid to make the first move. Classic fairytale stuff.

So the whole will they/won’t they arc is done, and thank god they will, because I’ve watched this whole thing unfold for years and they’re both miserable when they’re trying to pretend like they’re not in love. And the best part is I just signed a lease on a newer place even closer to work; it’s not because one day I woke up to my neighbor the cop’s stuff being moved out, her pretty girlfriend standing in the hall with a tray of iced coffees for the movers, but it did make it easier.

I’ll miss my next-door soap opera—well, not the part where psychos kick the door in—but it feels nice, somehow. Like I got to watch—hear, at least—two crazy kids finally figure out how to make it in this crazy world, which doesn’t happen very often.

And they really are both improbably good-looking, and equally improbably representative of your classic butch-femme dichotomy. So honestly, it just seems right. Like the universe is balanced at last.

I really hope they make it, but I’m pretty sure they will. As long as no more psychos try to kick down their door, at least.

[viir-tanadhal]

Pet Shop Boys' song picks for various radio interviews for Nonetheless

BBC Radio 2 with Jo Whiley (April 25, 2024)

Chris

Black Beauty theme (childhood song)

Bedsitter by Soft Cell

Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now by McFadden & Whitehead (death song)

Neil

The Young Ones by Cliff Richard and the Shadows (childhood song)

Bedsitter by Soft Cell

Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis by Ralph Vaughan Williams (death song)

BBC Radio 6 with Lauren Laverne (April 26, 2024)

Chris

Was That All It Was by Jean Carn

This Time Baby by Jackie Moore

Native New Yorker by Odyssey

Neil

Borderline by Madonna

I Want You by Marvin Gaye

Born Slippy by Underworld

Greatest Hits Radio with Jackie Brambles (April 28, 2024)

Chris

Baby Love by The Supremes

For Once in My Life by Glen Campbell

Rhythm is a Dancer by Snap!

Neil

Girl Don't Come by Sandie Shaw

Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin

Unfinished Sympathy by Massive Attack

BBC Radio 3 with Jess Gillam (June 8, 2024)

Neil

Ich Habe Genung (Cantata No 82) by J.S. Bach

Générique by Miles Davis

Symphonia Virginum: O Dulcissime Amator by Hildegard von Bingen

September Song by Kurt Weill; sung by Lotte Lenya

Tracks of My Years with Vernon Kay (June 9, 2024)

Chris

Stop! In the Name of Love by The Supremes

Fame by Irene Cara

Never Give You Up by Sharon Redd

Let Me Love You For Tonight by Kariya

A Love So Beautiful by Roy Orbison

Neil

I Am The Walrus by The Beatles

Papa Was A Rollin' Stone by The Temptations

Do Anything You Wanna Do by Eddie and the Hot Rods

This Is Not America by David Bowie

Unfinished Sympathy by Massive Attack

Artists in Residence - Queer (Nov. 11, 2024)

Homosexuality by Modern Rocketry

Smalltown Boy by Bronski Beat

Walk On The Wild Side by Lou Reed

I Was Born This Way by Carl Bean

Dizzy by Olly Alexander

Shoot Your Shot by Divine

Menergy by Patrick Cowley

Streets of Philadelphia by Bruce Springsteen

Never Give You Up by Sharon Redd

Hideous by Oliver Sim (ft. Jimmy Somerville)

In the Evening by Sheryl Lee Ralph

If Love Were All by Judy Garland

Artists in Residence - Producers (Nov. 12, 2024)

I'm So Hot For You by Bobby O

Hey DJ by Worlds Famous Supreme Team (Stephen Hague)

Slave To The Rhythm by Grace Jones (Trevor Horn)

I Like You (Shep Pettibone Mix) by Phyllis Nelson (Shep Pettibone)

Point of No Return by Exposé (Lewis Martineé)

Axel F by Harold Faltermeyer

Hold That Sucker Down - Builds Like a Skyscraper Mix by OT Quartet (Rollo)

Balcony Scene from Romeo + Juliet by Craig Armstrong

So Hard - D Morales Red Zone Mix by Pet Shop Boys (David Morales)

The Loving Kind by Girls Aloud (Xenomania)

Say You Will by Kanye West (Andrew Dawson)

It's Automatic by Zoot Woman (Stuart Price)

The Meeting Place by The Last Shadow Puppets (James Ford)

Artists in Residence - Miserablism (Nov. 13, 2024)

Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You by Stevie Nicks

One Day I'll Fly Away by Randy Crawford

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths

Baltimore by Nina Simone

Alfie by Cilla Black

Everybody's Got To Learn Sometime by The Korgis

Nothing Compares 2 U by Sinéad O'Connor

Parlez-moi de Lui by Françoise Hardy

By The Time I Get To Phoenix by Glen Campbell

Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology) by Marvin Gaye

I Don't Want To Hear It Anymore by Dusty Springfield

I'm Not In Love by 10cc

Let's Stay Together by Tina Turner

I Can't Give Everything Away by David Bowie

Artists in Residence - Remixes (Nov. 14, 2024)

WIP

[jerzwriter]

Meet Addie Larkin

Addie is a longtime friend of Tobias, who is introduced in Chapter 2. While they've known each other for nearly a decade and cherish their friendship, they know very little about each other's personal lives. For example, Addie had a partner this whole time, but Tobias only met them once in passing. While their friendship is not deep, it's still very important to them.

Name: Addie Larkin

Hometown: She grew up in Boston. A bit of a nomad, she moves frequently but stays nearby. She has lived in Jamaica Plain, South Boston, and Alston neighborhoods of Boston, as well as Brookline and Somerville in recent years.

Age: 35 years old at start of story.

Sexual Orientation: She doesn't like labels, but if forced to identify, she'd say she's pansexual.

Relationship status: She has a long-term partner, but little is known about them.

Occupation: An artist at heart but a business owner by trade. She owns a store in Cambridge that specializes in Boho-style clothing and arts, as well as metaphysical products. She manages a successful business but is not as capable of managing her personal finances.

Faceclaim: Bree Larson

Personality traits: Artistic, creative, strong-willed, practical, ethical, genuine, assertive, confident, devoutly loyal to those she loves, open-minded, non-conforming, aloof at times, blunt, friendly if she likes you, can appear cold, detests organized/traditional religion, but is spiritual, can be forgiving, or very non-forgiving dependent on the person involved.

More information below...

Other information: Addie is 100% Boston Irish but is estranged from most of her family. She left home for New York to attend art school at 18, and her conservative family did not approve of her lifestyle choices. When she refused to bend to their demands at the end of her sophomore year, they cut her off financially. She stayed in New York for six months but returned to Boston, where she had a network of friends soon after. She loves Boston and her life there. A non-conformist, she started her own business because traditional ventures, schedules, and lifestyles never worked for her. After years of trying to find her niche, she started a small business selling boho-style clothing she made. It eventually grew into a thriving lifestyle/metaphysical store in Cambridge.

Some backstory: She and Tobias met at a bar on his third night in Boston. They got along instantly, and she showed him around his new hometown and introduced him to people who were not involved in the medical world. He provided medical care for her during a period of time when she did not have adequate health coverage, and after that, a deeper bond was formed.

They consider each other close friends, but they know remarkably little about each other's personal lives. For example, Tobias knows she has a partner this whole time, but he's only met them once or twice in passing. Tobias has shared many stories about his conquests with her, but she couldn't tell you a name or face associated with them. Still, when she learns he has an official girlfriend, she's eager to meet her. And while not seeking approval, Tobias hopes they'll get along.

Many assume Tobias and Addie had something more than friendship at some point in the past. But the only two who know the answer to that are Tobias and Addie, and they prefer to leave people guessing.

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