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Top 5 Wednesday - March 8th, 2023
Top 5 Wednesday was created by Lainey at Gingerreadslainey and is now hosted by Laura (Laura A. Grace). Every week, book reviewers all over the world are given a bookish topic and respond with their top 5 books (or elements of books) that relate to that topic. Click here for the Goodreads group if you would like to learn more about Top 5 Wednesday and join in! This week’s Top 5 Wednesday topic…
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#2023#book blog#book blogger#book blogging#book reviewer#female authors#T5W#The Quirky Book Nerd#Top 5 Wednesday#Top Five Wednesday
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2023 top five!
@preseriesdean thought it would be fun for artists/authors/creators to post their favorite five creations this year, and i agree! it can be anything: your favorite posts, fics, art, edits, fanvids, anything!
i saw some folks turning this into a tag game, so here are some tags! @deanwinchesterpregnant @dyed-red @mercette @crucifysam @weirdbrothers @togethertogethersoulmates @pookeenpie
if you end up doing it, pls tag me! i'd love to see y'all's works! :)
-lizzy
so in no particular order, here are the five fics i liked the best/am the most proud of!
considering that everything i’ve written on this account (240k words of it good lord) was published since february 23rd, i’ve got a lot to work with!
i was in the fandom back in 2012-2013 until 2016-2017, and when i rewatched it recently with some friends, i realized just how many words and feelings had been broiling since. i wrote a LOT for spn back in the day (not published, just for the pure joie de vivre), but everything on the ao3 is completely new since feb!
1. tell me, why are you still so afraid?
or, the "what do you want, sam?" fic. this one might be a surprise! it did moderately well, but i'm really happy with it! i love writing weechesters/pre-series, and i hope this fic did them justice! it hit a lot of points i liked, and i had so much fun writing it!! i'm proud of it! :)
2. you're pretty when you don't speak
or, sam's wife pov. i was shocked!!! aghast!!! frankly agog!!! at how much folks loved this one! i had the idea in the shower of all places, lmao, just the idea that wait, being sam's wife must be so lonely. it was not the usual fare (and written in second-person pov), so i was expecting it to gently and quietly flop. but no! i wrote this fic in two sittings at one a.m. the night before a paleopathology exam, so i'm shocked any of it was coherent in the morning. thank you, dear reader, if you interacted w it at all! :)
3. romans 3:10-11
ahh, romans. to other folks that write, this was one of those fics that scratched in my bones until i sat down and wrote it all out. does that sound pretentious? it was stifling; it was all i could think about. even now, i look back on it and feel like there are things that are missing, extended scenes and extra themes that i wished i had teased out. the response was overwhelming and positive and i'm so glad you lot liked it! if you ever want more...idk...lemme know...
4. we didn't get it right, but love we did our best
or, the Heaven fic! this one took awhile to make, and a lot out of me to do! it's the longest fic i've made this year, by a lot! the planning process was a lot of fun (even though charlotte was mostly asleep), and i even colour-coded themes and turning points i wanted to include. the sense of accomplishment when it was done was a great part of this year!
5. there's no such thing as a clean break, when your heart starts bleeding out
or, the stanford!era fic where dean bleeds out on the highway and decides to not tell sam about it. one of my favorite things to write is a character getting more and more out of it as they lose control (or blood), and this one was a fun challenge! i love stanford!era dean, because he's so mangled and angry and sad. i feel like that one tweet that william shatner posted where he said ELECTROCUTE HIM!!! this also feels the most like the things i wrote back in 2014, so it brings nostalgia :,)
this was WAY harder than i thought! i loved and was so proud of so much of my work this year! a top ten would be easier, but i'm happy with this list!
thank YOU for reading! :)
we are holding hands now and there's nothing you can do to stop it. y'all keep this up and we might even have to stare lovingly into each other's eyes.
#spn fanfic#spn fic#sam and dean#samdean#wincest fanfiction#wincest#wincest wednesday#2023 top five list#tag game
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yesterday (06/12) was the anniversary of me watching top gun for the first time so here are some of my favorite personal reviews
i saw tg and tgm in june & didn’t think about tg for two months. i wrote the epilogue for wwgattai on august 10 and THEN rewatched it on the 11th & that’s when i knew there was enough potential to start writing wwgattai for real
a lot can change in a year. :)
#mostly: i went from rating tg 2.5 stars to 5 every time#very grateful to this mid-ass movie for giving me something to chew on for the last ten months#okay: sorry for the radio silence btw ive been saying ‘todays the day i post my one-shot’ for the last five days#TOMORROW!!! Im trying.#but i also have a fun wip wednesday so that might be wip Thursday. ugh idk. im so so busy 😵💫#ive now seen top gun over 15 times OMG CRINGE#still only seen tgm 5 times and 4 were in theatres (regal unlimited. didn’t pay. that deal is basically legal piracy).#Not a huge tgm fan obviously which is why idrk those characters#it’s ices death scene. i literally cannot take it. i have to close my eyes every time.#tg (cringe mid movie) is somehow my 4th favorite movie on letterboxd#all my friends are in film & i show them my letterboxd and they’re like…what#love it so much. god i love this movie.#top gun
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5 seconds from body slammjng my boss. no i wont leave the 500 dollar festival i requested time off for months in advance to work for two and a half hours. no your $25 dollar bribe doesn’t change anything. why am i working a six hour shift on the only day of the week i Dont work. im gonna kill you
#pov you’re my boss when i can’t work five days a week doing school AND another job on top of this one: but what if you did#for reference i work at taco bell monday tuesday thursday friday#i teach monday wednesday saturday#and i don’t have a full school day but i still have school#and i’d LIKE to have a social life but nooooooo#taco bell needs me to work sundays too#if she ever puts me on a sunday again i will quit#i’m working every single day until Next Sunday#and sure my teaching job isnt a long shift but it still disrupts any plans i could have because nobody wants to hangout till 6 or after 8#anyway booooo managers boooooo
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Who I write for
And other fandoms I’m in
List of fandoms/fan bases I’m a part of and who I’d write for! Actors are at the bottom! If there’s any questions just ask! (The list may change in the future, maybe I’ll add new fandoms or characters. I might also remove some.)
(The list is long, sorry about that😅)
Formula 1
Current drivers
- Carlos Sainz
- Franco Colapinto
- Lando Norris
- Max Verstappen
- Pierre Gasly
- Lewis Hamilton
- George Russell
- Oscar Piastri
Retired drivers
- Daniel Ricciardo
- Logan Sargeant (IndyCar?)
- Jenson Button
Dream smp
- Dream
- Karl Jacobs
- Foolish Gamers
Hazbin Hotel
- Lucifer Morningstar
- Alastor
The Hunger Games
- Peeta Mellark
- Finnick Odair
- Coriolanus Snow
Zorro the chronicles
- Diego de la Vega/Zorro
MacGyver (2016 reboot)
- Angus MacGyver
Shadow and bone
- Aleksander Morozova
- Kaz Brekker
- Nikolai Lantsov
Stranger things
- Steve Harrington
- Eddie Munson
Kingsman
- Gary “Eggsy” Unwin
Sam & Colby
- Colby Brock
- Nate Hardy
- Seth Borden
Star Wars
- Anakin Skywalker
- Obi-Wan Kenobi
- Din Djarin
Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus
- Percy Jackson
- Luke Castellan
Five nights at Freddy’s (the movie)
- Mike Schmidt
Wonka (2023)
- Willy Wonka
Top Gun
- Pete ”Maverick” Mitchell
- Jake ”Hangman” Seresin
- Robert “Bob” Floyd
Star Stable Online
- Ydris
Marvel
The Avengers
- Peter Parker
- Bucky Barnes
- Loki Laufeyson
X-men
- Alex Summers
The Maze Runner
- Newt
- Thomas
Teen Wolf
- Stiles Stilinski
- Isaac Lahey
- Derek Hale
- Liam Dunbar
Harry Potter
-
Fantastic Beasts and where to find them
- Newt Scamander
- Theseus Scamander
Pirates of the Caribbean
- Will Turner
- Henry Turner
Lord of the rings/The Hobbit
- Legolas
- Aragorn
Mission: impossible
- Ethan Hunt
Narnia
- Prince Caspian
Free Rein
- Peter “Pin” Hawthorne
Descendants
- Harry Hook
One Direction
-
How to train your dragon
-
Avatar
-
Monster Trucks
- Tripp Coley
The dragon prince
-
Reign
-
Wednesday
-
The Matrix
-
Grease
-
Dirty Dancing
-
Pentatonix
(Won’t write for anyone)
Actors:
- Tom Blyth
- Lucas Till
- Ben Barnes
- Taron Egerton
- Hayden Christensen
- Timothée Chalamet
#dream smp#hazbin hotel#formula 1#the hunger games#zorro the chronicles#macgyver 2016#shadow and bone#stranger things#kingsman#sam & colby#star wars#percy jackson#the heroes of olympus#five nights at freddy's#top gun 1986#top gun maverick#marvel#the maze runner#teen wolf#harry potter#pirates of the caribbean#lord of the rings#the hobbit#mission impossible#narnia#free rein#descendants#one direction#how to train your dragon#wednesday
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in other news i get two weeks of summer break!!! :D i thought my summer classes were going to just lead me straight into school again but i do actually get some breathing room before it all starts up once more :D
#can't WAIT to be back in french class i'm gonna have so much fun#and like! ten thousand english classes!!!! everybody say yayyyyyy!!!!#gonna see what i'm taking rn actually. chronicle it#taking literary theory + criticism ; us literature 1 ; folklore and mythology ; sacred texts ; nd emerging lit in global context#on the waitlist for the emerging lit one. but i am first on the waitlist so. it's practically my class already#absolutely no doubt that someone will drop if i'm not just allowed to crash#even if i don't get it it's no big deal though honestly! it would be my only tuesday/thursday class so i wouldn't have to be on campus...#spending five days a week on campus is pretty silly. i got through it last semester but it'd be nice not to have that#nd i'm at 18 units with that class so if i don't take it i'll be back down to 15 which is totally reasonable#bracken's favorite hobby is actually being completely insane with his school + work schedule#18 units and i'm still like 'yeah i wanna work 20 hours though'#you have clinical issues. shut up.#anyway hopefully i'll be able to work 20 hours a week on top of this sdkfjghdsf#if monica gives me morning shifts! i can do that easy peasy (afternoon shifts are 5 hours instead of 3 and a half now. kiss kiss)#so two + a half afternoon shifts a week and a couple morning shifts... we're so set#'bracken when will you have time to do homework' that's a problem for me to solve by just not having free time <3#one of my classes is asynchronous so. ha. haha. i'm sure i'll have appropriate amounts of time to do work.#mondays + wednesdays i have class straight from 1:30 to 7 but it's FINE! it's FINE!#i'm sure i will be very reasonable about it#i got through my three hour 5-8 film lecture last semester. so i can do anything#would i prefer morning classes? oh absolutely. but having the morning for homework will still be good for me#so excited to be back in school i love school so much#( <— has been in school this whole time w/ summer classes )#OH MY GOD I WAS GONNA SAY THOUGH. I'M SO FUCKING EXCITED TO TAKE FOLKLORE AND MYTHOLOGY#anyway#valentine notes
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Met with a career planner at school to go over my resume in preparation for spamming the shit out of internship applications and had one of the most completely validating conversations ever in terms of my work experience and coursework.
Imposter syndrome has been such a bitch but when I mentioned I have been feeling really insecure about all that she raved at me, said I had chosen my courses perfectly for the jobs I'm interested in post-grad and was just so assuring I love one (1) college career planner especially
#personal#she got so excited for me as we went through my top five internships and then relevant coursework#'oh these are PERFECT you couldn't have planned this better'#i want this archival internship SO FUCKING BAD and if i can get an internship at the MFA I'll be set#coming out of that with recommendations? from on of the most prestigious fine arts museums on the country??#i could get a job basically at any smaller museum no fucking problem#i also got a behind the scenes tour of the conservation labs on wednesday and im in love#when i went back to school for this bfa i knew i wanted to work in these specialties#and now that im one fucking term away from actually working in these specialties im#getting very overwhelmed but in a very good way T.T
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when i choose to rank my top five fictional characters for this one college's saq but then i realize i only have 150 words to explain my choices
#do they really expect me to explain how michael wheeler makes the top five list with like 30 words??? i could write an entire essay about#why i love him and find his character complex#plus ezra fitz simmons and julian wtf wtf wtf this is making me realize how much i ramble when defending my opinons#like how many words has this been#this is so hard but i feel like i can figure it out eventually (by wednesday apparently)#kat rambles
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The fighter sped out and Rooster broke far enough off to engage, but never quite leaving Hangman’s wing. The other pilot was fast, but inexperienced. Whatever training the locals had been promised to accompany their shiny new toys clearly hadn’t been completed. This guy was all power, but no skill. Rooster feigned left, broke right, and got a lock. Missiles away he veered even further back, just in time to see Hangman’s own missile drop hit home, the weapons depot that had gone against every treaty signed in the last fifty years exploding into the air.
And kept exploding.
The fire built on itself, whatever was stored down there a ton more powerful than their intel had indicated to them. The celebratory cheers were quickly cut off as the flames leapt up towards both Rooster and Hangman’s Hornets, the two aviators cutting off towards the ocean to escape the bursts of fire and shrapnel. Rooster jolted forward, his fighter’s warning systems screaming at him and he stared at it for half a second longer than he should have. Shit. nothing like literally having your tail on fire.
But things could always get worse.
A second fighter swooped out of the plumes of smoke and into his line of sight. Bullets scattered across Hangman’s Hornet and the other man loosed a curse out over the radio, dodging and releasing a burst of flares that only bought him a few seconds. “I’m out!” he shouted.
Every warning system was screaming at Rooster. He was losing his fighter, the damage spreading and no matter what he did he couldn’t extinguish the flames. It was a goner, but the problem was that no one else was close enough to get the enemy fighter off of Hangman. He might make it. He was a talented pilot, but he was outgunned, if not out manned. It was a risk a team leader shouldn’t take. It was a risk Rooster wasn’t willing to take.
It all happened in what felt like a fraction of a second. He punched it, using speed that only fueled the flames on his own fighter to shift into alignment, loosing his last missile at the enemy fighter and seeing it strike before it could take Hangman out of the air. Alarms blared and he grabbed the ejection handle between his legs and pulled hard. The canopy shattered, he was jettisoned upward, and his fighter exploded beneath him.
Everything went black.
#Work in Progress Wednesday#WIP Wednesday#Top Gun Maverick#top gun fanfiction#Bradley Badshaw#Jake Seresin#Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw#Bradley Rooster Bradshaw#Jake “Hangman” Seresin#Jake Hangman Seresin#Dagger Squad#from a oneshot I'm working on called Thirty-Five Years
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It’s hilarious to me that my Twitter or X whatever the fuck it’s call now for permanently suspended and my pfp is Jackie Taylor .
My Twitter is as dead as her.
#damn sorry to my cool twitter mutuals I followed for fandoms#Yellowjackets#Wednesday Netflix#and like…#PLL#?#it was like five people tops#Twitter got me for blocking too many ads#I guess
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Peter places an envelope on Tony's desk.
Tony looks up confused, "huh? What's that for?"
"It's for you," he points awkwardly at the plain blue envelope, held closed with a Darth Vader sticker.
"It's not my birthday kid." He snaps the protective face shield back down as he picks up his soldering iron, sparks flying as he gets back to work.
"I know that I, uh. It's from, it's for. It's yours. I gotta go, see you later Mr. Stark!" Peter hikes his backpack up tighter as he skips out of the lab.
Tony grunts in acknowledgement without looking up, eyes focused on the searing metal in front of him.
* * *
"Tony? I thought you were gonna have dinner with me after Peter left," Pepper saunters down into the workspace in a flattering pair of jeans and baby blue blouse.
"I was. I am. He left like five minutes ago," Tony waves at her without taking his eyes from the computer he's typing on.
"Happy drove him home two hours ago. Come, have a nice sit down meal with me." Pepper wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing the top of his head.
"I can have a sit down meal. I'm sitting right now, bring the carbonara down here and it'll be a proper date," Tony replies.
"Yeah, you me and your computer. How romantic. Tony, come upstairs- what's this?"
Tony glances up to see her holding a blue envelope.
"Uh, it's the kids."
Pepper flips it around, "it says To Mr. Stark From Peter on the back."
Tony just shrugs and goes back to typing on his computer.
The delicate glue of the sticker is undone under Pepper's sharp nails as she opens up the envelope and pulls something from inside.
"It's illegal to open someone else's mail y'know," Tony teases.
"Tony this- god you are such an asshole!" Pepper smacks Tony on the back of the head with the envelope.
"Ow! What the- what did I do now! I was just joking about the carbonara thing... mostly."
Tony finally meets Pepper's eyes of scorn. She tosses something in front of him with a huff.
"Tony, he even used a Darth Vader sticker. Do you know how adorably geeky and topical that is? You have got to start paying more attention to the living breathing people in front of you instead of your machines. Dinner is ready, please come upstairs."
Tony watches her leave as the clack of her heels fade away with every step. He's not sure what Darth Vader has to do with missing dinner, but he's quick to get up and start to follow.
He pauses before he makes it out the door, turning to finish the last line of code before he forgets the function. He pushes something off of his keyboard to type and press save.
Tony can't remember the last time he looked up from his work long enough to consume solid food. He's so ready to carb-load with some Italian food, turning away from the computer and blue envelope.
Tony's eyebrows furrow. Hm. Darth Vader sticker.
Tony turns back around and picks up the envelope from beside his keyboard.
This must be what the kid was yapping about earlier. Tony sticks his hand inside and finds a card, pulling it out.
"Father's Day it is," the front says in bold lettering with a picture of Yoda crudely hand-drawn with a sharpie and green highlighter. Tony flips it open, "celebrate you we must" is written in the middle of the page.
Below is a message in smaller writing; "Thank you for everything Mr. Stark, we wouldn't be here without you!" with a blob of sharpie that looks suspiciously like it's scribbled out a small heart, then signed "From Peter, Dum-E and U" each name written in their own unique handwriting.
"Friday, what day is it?"
"It is Sunday June 16th, also celebrated as Father's Day in countries such as the United States, Canada, and the UK."
Hm.
Tony stands there and stares at the card for longer than he'd ever admit before looking up at Dum-E.
"You help with this?" he asks, pointing at the card.
Dum-E chirps happily, twirling his claw around.
"Your hand writing's terrible."
* * *
Peter enters the lab slowly, an unsureness to him that's out of character.
It's Wednesday, his usual day for coming over to Tony's workshop. He hasn't heard anything from Tony since Sunday, not that he usually does. Still, the quietness has unnerved him. He's not sure what he was even expecting from his mentor; silence is probably the nicest response he could hope for after embarrassing himself like that.
"Hi Mr. Stark," he greets once he spots the older man sitting next to a complicated tangle of wires.
"Hey kid, can you go to the computer and run the command I have open for me?"
"Sure thing!" Peter says as he dumps his backpack onto the floor and jogs over.
The two get into an easy rhythm and Peter's practically forgotten why he was nervous in the first place when, "hey grab us some sodas will you," Mr. Stark asks him.
Peter walks up to the fridge in the corner of the room when he notices something new.
In the center of the silver metal lies a single piece of paper, stuck to the refrigerator with a plain magnet seemingly scrapped from some old hardware in the lab.
Tony has his Father's Day card displayed like some dorky parent whose kid got a half-decent report card, showcased on a fridge like a toddler's finger painted masterpiece.
It makes Peter so happy he can't wipe the stupid grin off his face the entire time he's grabbing sodas and delivering one to Tony.
The older hums a thanks without looking away from his project, but as Peter turns away Tony's own face contorts into a pleased smile all of his own.
The two share identical smiles all afternoon, hidden behind soda cans and computer screens.
#happy father's day#irondad and spiderson#peter parker#tony stark#marvel mcu#iron dad#irondad#they're a family ur honour!#btw peter got flowers for both May and Pepper on mothers day because hes a gentleman <3#spider man#iron man
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꒰ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐘 ꒱ 김선우
summary : little innocent, top student, you, suddenly gets partnered up with the one athlete everyone at your school is obsessed with, for a homework project that turns into much more
genre : mdni !! smut, fluff, some angsty thoughts (occasionally, for the plot) athlete!sunwoo x afab!reader, school!au, pwp (a little), inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers tws : explicit sexual content, language, pet names, body worship, praise, dirty talk (but like nice), dom!sunwoo, slight orgasm denial, slight edging, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (reader), almost dumbification (reader goes non-verbal for most of it), slight overstimulation, spitting in mouth (once), oral (reader), biting (once) author notes : did i get carried tf away? maybe (yes) word count : 5k
the harsh ultra-violet rays warmed your skin, sending a gentle goosebump-ridden pattern over it. you looked out ahead, watching as the soccer team practiced hard—almost daily now (only taking a break on wednesdays). a breeze passed through the air, weaving its way all around your body, which was wearing the school’s uniform loosely. you sighed, looking up to the wave of lustrously-green trees against the clear-blue sky.
your body was relaxed, leaning ever-so-slightly back against the bleacher behind you. your hand came up when a particularly bright ray shined through the dark leaves of late spring and you blocked it. then, just as you were about to let it fall back down, your attention caught on one particular member of the team, when a shout of victory wafted into your ears: kim sunwoo.
he was the main character of your daydreams, racing heartbeats, and physical ache. you knew it was stupid to be caught in his grasp, like the rest of the school was. you knew you weren’t special in the way you’d look at him longingly—so desperate for any kind of appraisal from the athlete.
however, unlike the rest of the female (and male) population, you were contemptuous with your delusion over him. even if it was an unrequited love, you were closer with yourself—and schooling—in its result. your parents definitely weren’t complaining with your top-student status and class president tasks.
it seemed like a win-win, but still, you sometimes caught yourself wishing for more in the loneliness of the night; when your mind was the best at focusing on things it shouldn’t. you’d imagine things you’d rather keep in the depths of your archives. secrets you were prepared to take to the grave: everyone loved sunwoo, but no one knew you did as well.
the prejudice was that you were too caught up in said studies to even look up, especially not in his direction. you had only a couple of friends, ones you truly trusted with your life, and even they had no clue about your feelings for the soccer player.
you watched his celebration, a fist pumped into the air and a bright smile that caused a blush to litter your cheeks. In moments like these, you were glad he really had no idea you existed when you weren't standing right in front of him. he high-fived the team members, walking over to the sidelines and throwing a small towel over his shoulder.
it was honestly a little pathetic the way you couldn't peel your eyes from the way his muscles strained against the spandex of the shirt, or the way the sweat would roll down his perfectly sun-kissed skin. the softness of the genuine smile that pressed against his mouth and up into his eyes, the ones that flirted so effortlessly with his slow and cool mannerisms.
genuinely, when he looked so good, it made it hard for you to not drift off into another fantasy where he’d walk up to you and sweep you off your feet like a prince in a fairytale—and, he always looked this good.
you huffed out a breath, one you weren’t even sure if you were holding or not, and crossed your legs over one-another. you narrowed your eyes (in some weird attempt to zoom in), swearing you could see the man of your dreams—and reality—walking in your direction.
He flashed a devilish smile, you weren’t convinced was meant for you, breaking from the teammates he’d been walking with. his eyes met yours, and for a moment you thought you were asleep—or dead.
frankly, you think this scenario would suit a chuckle from the athlete who watched your eyes go wide as he further approached.
he took a long drink from the bottle in his hand, holding said eye contact as he lightly swallowed. you mimicked him with a dry throat, admiring how his adamsapple bobbed with each gulp.
he straddled the bench, setting his things between his open thighs. “y/n?” he asked as he raked a hand through his sweaty hair. you couldn’t look away, like a must-watch thriller that you’d spent your hard earned money on. you could feel the way your heart rattled your ribcage, just aching to escape and feel his against it.
an audible hum left your lips in reply. you could feel the heat that radiated your features and spread throughout your body. and, you knew, despite opposition, that he could see its pink shade.
the one-sided tension was suffocating. you shifted uncomfortably—or maybe in some desperate attempt to ease the ache—and clasped your hands together. then, once again, he smiled at you. your heart didn’t know whether to shatter or melt in the presence, which you’ve only been able to see up close a couple of times.
“your place or mine?”
you wouldn’t have believed the way your eyes could grow three-sizes larger than they already had previously.
“w-what?” you choked out.
he chuckled at your flustered state. “ms. park posted the partners for the group-projects.” he stated matter-of-factly. “and, guess what class president?” you all but asked what; gulping loudly, tensing your legs together, as well as your fingers and lips. “we’re partnered.”
you wanted to play it cool, but the excitement at the revelation was fast-approaching. you’d never had the opportunity to see him outside of school—and granted, it was still over school-work but, a win was still a win in your book.
“o-oh!” you ragged out along with a shaky breath. “right, i was waiting until after practice to ask you about it.”
you lied.
you had no idea that the groups were announced. you just spent your free-time on this bench pretending to do work often enough that it seemed reliable.
his eyebrows rose, like he could see right through your antics. it was honestly a little intimidating; or maybe that’s not exactly the right word to describe the feeling hot-spotted in you.
he glanced back at the field momentarily, watching the rest of his teammates leave the outlined grass. “whatever you say, class president, but i knew exactly where to find you… except on wednesdays.” the undertone was something you couldn’t read, just out of your depth, but still plunged you further into curiosity. “we’ll go to my place then, and i’ll shower while you get started. how’s that sound? practice is done anyways.”
you wanted to protest his offer, but there was something intoxicating about seeing his room and smelling the cologne that lingered in the air. the shampoo and body wash that would waft out to you. you’d dreamt about it, and simply, you wanted to see if it was anything like the picture you painted in your head.
“i can just meet you later—you can shower in peace.” you started to pull the phone from the bag at your side, opening it, and holding it in his direction. “maybe, in like two hours?”
he took hold of the machinery. “what’s the fun in that? you could’ve joined me if you got too bored.”
you laughed painfully, shifting once again at the heat between your thighs. you wanted to accept the offer more than anything, however you know you shouldn’t.
but, what was the fun in that?
“a shame.” he chuckled lightly, holding the phone back out to you after inputting his number and texting himself the address. “i’ll see you then, y/n.”
it was the exact house number you were now staring at, eyes shifting between the text on your screen and the apartment door. it had been a little over two-hours, you having to hype yourself up before you left. and you had decided to relax by taking a bath as well, getting a little carried away with your imagination—which ultimately caused you to be late as well—but, you didn’t think delinquent-athlete, sunwoo, would care all too much.
“you could’ve knocked,” you hadn’t realized the door was now open, revealing the dimly lit (because the curtains were closed and it was approaching 6pm) living space. “or called.”
“s-sorry. i wasn’t sure if this was the right place.” you watched as he moved aside, creating just enough room for you to brush past him, giving you an oh-so desired smell of his cologne.
you cursed yourself for getting so worked up over the little things he’d do, but now you were finding it hard to believe that that wasn’t his intention. he kept you coming back for more, and you were always eager.
“do you want any water?” he asked, watching your frame stand awkwardly in his living room. “my rooms over there, i have a couple of things for you.”
you choked again. “f-for me?”
he laughed. “to use on the poster, y/n.” and he mumbled something after that you weren’t able to catch.
your head panned as he walked to the kitchen, ears listening to the light rattle of glass cups and running water. you plastered your hands to one another politely, scanning over the couple pictures sunwoo did have laying about; his apartment only had the necessities. the few pictures were ones of a younger girl, who you assumed to be his little sister—who he obviously loved enough to display. but you thought there must’ve been more to them, to him, and deep down you knew you’d like to find out one day; to comfort him in his time of need. to be his.
sunwoo came back, two glasses in his hands as he motioned for the closed door on your left. “you can open it, i’ve got nothing to hide from you.”
you don’t know why those words made you blush, maybe it’s because they’re from him, and anything from the athlete is enough to send you reeling.
your hand trembled as it reached to the knob. “oh, okay.” you said, trying to block it with your body. “i was thinking we could start with reading the book a little bit more, to familiarize ourselves with the data before making the final draft. that’s if you don’t mind?”
the door swung against its hinges, making the site of a dark, but minimalistic room meet your view. you took in the smell of cologne, but it didn’t seem to be overpowering like he had just sprayed it around carelessly. his bed was neatly made, black sheets and black pillows placed meticulously: as if a house keeper had been around to do it for him.
he placed the glasses against the wood of his nightstand, a charger and lamp being the only other decor on it.
he pressed the lamp and illuminated the room just a little more. “not confident, class president?”
“that’s not it,” you blurted out, his brows knit and arms crossed as he awaited your explanation. you could barely look in his direction, biting your tongue to not say: i just get flustered enough to forget around you.
“i, uh, it’s just that… nevermind. let’s begin!”
he huffed out another laugh, his actions too fast for you to process as his hands met your shoulders, pushing you to sit on his bed.
your eyes seemed to be in a perpetually widened state, but you found it telling that you put up no protest. the bag on your back made it into your lap, and you unzipped it, taking out multiple pens, markers and whatnot to make a decent poster. sunwoo had grabbed a paper, putting it on the floor and holding out his book for you to take. your hands brushed as you accepted it, and it sent a shiver up your spine.
you began to lay a couple of your class-taken notes onto his bedding, and sunwoo made his way around to the other side. he plopped down onto his stomach, making you bounce slightly.
“you know, class prez, people think you’re scary. you’re always studying, you barely look up, and when you do it’s to tell people off because they’re interrupting said studying.” you tried to read over the notes, but found it hard to ignore the harmonies within his voice. and that your leisure-clothes were getting too warm around your skin. “but they don’t know you, i guess. you’re smart but i bet you know how to have, at least, a little fun, don’t you? and, it’s no secret the school thinks your looks are top-tear. it’s just a shame you reject everyone that asks you out. it’s a waste of your time, i presume. anyways, that’s enough. let’s get started, shall we?”
“w-why?” you asked in such a hushed breath that sunwoo barely heard it. and if he lived with anyone else, or if a car or plane went by at the perfect time, he wouldn’t have. “why is that a shame?”
“because you are beautiful, y/n.”
fuck your clothes, your skin was getting too hot against you. your breath was labored, and now the words on the paper were congregating. you couldn’t focus with sunwoo next to you, and that’s exactly what you feared.
why’d you have to ask? curiosity did kill the cat.
the way you shifted didn’t go unnoticed by the athlete and he let out a chuckle that should just be his signature at this point.
he sat up now, burning his eyes into the side of your head. “what’s wrong, y/n?” he asked, but you refused to look away from the notes, even if you couldn’t get your mind to read them. “has no one ever called you that before?”
you bit your lip, thumbs ripping at the skin around the nail. truthfully, yes, one person has called you that, but it didn’t feel the same as when he did it. sunwoo made your heart beat out of your chest, breath leave your lungs so fast it made you lightheaded. he made you weak in the knees, like you were just jelly to begin with, melting in the sun.
you felt a soft hand reach across you, taking the farthest cheek within his palm and focusing your vision towards himself.
his skin felt like fire against you, but even this smallest touch made you crave more, made you need him in a more than innocent way. and, you were starting to believe his intentions were exactly the same as yours.
your eyes finally focused at the feeling on his hand sliding to rest against the side of your neck, as if he was caressing it, running his thumb over your windpipe gently.
you’d never seen sunwoo so close to your face, but you had imagined it, and it was nothing in comparison. he was beyond beautiful, a sight to see: tan skin untainted by pores and blemishes, soft features like his lips that contradicted, but complimented shaper ones such as his eyes and nose. he was the perfect harmony in your opinion, the perfect—
“god, y/n. i must be crazy.” he broke you from your admiration, breath hitting your lips. “would you treat me any different from the guys who have asked you out in the past?”
god, yes.
your stomach was beyond knots now, the whole damn zoo being let loose. your hands were gripping the sheets at the anticipation that seemed to be agonizing enough to kill you where you sat. in reality, sunwoo wasn’t even doing anything, but he had you at his fingertips, and you weren’t convinced you couldn’t pass out right now.
“fuck, maybe i am crazy…” his eyes flicked to your lips momentarily. “do you want this? i know i’d be interrupting your studying, class president.”
and you don’t know where your confidence came from, but the way you closed the gap was desperate. however, sunwoo put up no protest, and quickly gained control over the situation.
his other palm pulled you by your cheek to deepen the kiss. well, that was until he had enough of the angle you were sat at and gripped your thigh to fully get you onto his bed.
he was a good kisser, a great one in fact, and it made you crave his lips in other places to experience the full effect.
now he was pushing your body by your lower back, trying to get you as close to him a possible, and as if you could read minds, you threw your leg over him to straddle his lap.
he broke the kiss. “good girl.” he said before reconnecting with the skin on your neck, and smiling against it when he heard you whine quietly. you could feel him growing hard underneath you, and wondered if he’d take this all the way, wondered if he wanted you like that. “you do want this, don’t you?”
inside your head you couldn’t help thinking that maybe you weren’t desirable, maybe he was only doing this to prove a point: that the whole school was within his grasp. maybe it was to brag tomorrow, as locker room chatter before soccer practice, because why would sunwoo like you outside of your delusions?
his arms caged you against him, stoping all minor movements and actions. he looked into your eyes, and for a moment it’s like the world had ceased. the only thing you could hear was the thumping within your own chest and the echoes of your doubts.
“do you want me, sunwoo?”
he kissed your lips gently—almost lovingly—before stating. “more than anything right now.”
and you wanted to ask if it was only right now that he wanted you, but you couldn’t will that to leave your lips, as his eyes locked onto your own, mixing like watercolor.
you’d wanted him to want you for a long time, so you hoped it wasn’t only now that he felt the same.
“are you okay?”
your palms now laid against his cheeks, biting your bottom lip, half-nervously and half from feeling his hands curve where the seams of your thighs met the underside of your ass. you pulled him quickly back to you, breaking away only to mumble a quiet yes before being fully taken over by your lust.
he flipped you over quickly, and you found comfort between his soft pillows and blanket. he pushed your thighs apart, slotting himself in between to attach back on your already swollen lips.
his voice came out in a hushed tone, only for you. “class prez, has anyone had you like this? have they seen how perfect you look with messy hair and puffy lips? i bet you’d look so cute crying, wouldn’t you?” you whimpered at the words—the thought—you wanted him to think you were cute, attractive in any way, it was human nature after all; and everything about this was primal. “how far do you want me to go?”
your voice was once again barely audible over your own heartbeat. “whatever you want.”
“yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
you were beginning—ignoring all previous warnings—to feel overwhelmed, his tongue sending you into overdrive. you didn’t know what to do as you felt him ghost his lips on your collar bone, then down over your chest, eventually landing at your stomach. he pushed the fabric up, latching down onto your hip bone, which had you shifting to get any sort of friction on your core.
all his minuscule teasing was actually beginning to feel painful, but he got the hint. you knew he would.
sunwoo grabbed at the waistband on your pants, looking up to you for reassurance, but you just lifted your hips to make it easier for him. he chuckled, pulling both of the fabrics blocking you from him down.
you heard him mumble something along the lines of pretty as he placed open-mouth kisses against your inner thighs.
one thing about sunwoo is that he left you no room to feel self-conscious or embarrassed. he knew how to love you right, (you didn’t want to know why that was) and was determined to show you that.
you might not have believed this was something more than locker-room chatter, but now…
you moaned when he finally attached to your aching clit, sucking gently before alternating between kissing and licking at your slit. your hand covered your mouth out of embarrassment at the sounds that you couldn’t stop from making. truthfully, the last (and only) guy you were with didn’t even make you finish, so you didn’t have to worry about being too loud—or god forbid, annoying.
but, sunwoo hated that you weren’t letting him hear how good he was doing. he wanted the praise just at much as you did, nonetheless he let you continue. he’d let you until you were completely at his mercy, malleable under his touch. he’d let you because that made you comfortable.
and, to be honest, it still fueled his ego.
“c-close,” you managed to mumble through your fingers, eyes squeezed shut and head lulled back. “woo, please?”
and that fact that you had asked him almost made him cum untouched. so, you were his? he thought to himself, before he groaned into your pussy at the feeling of your fingers attaching to his hair, only adding to your pleasure.
the hands squeezing your plush thighs pulled you closer to his face, close enough to suffocate, but he’d die a happy man.
he continued to eat you out like a starved man, only bedrudgingly pulling away right before you had the chance to properly orgasm.
“w-wait!” you tried to push him back, frantically searching for the edge you were just about to topple off. “w-wh—sunwoo, fuck, d-don’t stop. please.”
tears were pricking your eyes out of frustration—the whole thing being so emotionally and vulnerably charged, you weren’t sure you could hold them back. then, shivers were sent throughout your shaking body as he soothed over your sides and stomach with his hands, lips back to their spot on your thighs.
he propped himself up, staring down at the godly figure he never truly thought you’d let him see. and after a minute, you got embarrassed at the strong gaze on your glistening core; your knees coming together.
his fingers slotted between them, pulling your legs apart. “don’t hide from me, baby. you’re so beautiful—god, all for me, right?”
you whined, quickly sitting up and reaching out for anything he’d give you.
sunwoo kissed your lips again, keeping you at his level with a hand on the small of your back and one gripping the hem of your shirt. you were dizzy from the taste of yourself on him, sunwoo only breaking apart to get the fabric up, and fully over your head. he took off your bra and suddenly the realization that you were fully naked in front of the prized soccer captain, while he was fully clothed, sunk in.
you whined again, too drunk off him to formulate anything coherent. he laughed at how desperately you were pawing at his sweats. “what’s wrong?”
you looked up at him. “fuck me?” and if your eyes weren’t the definition of puppy-dog, he didn’t know what was.
he smiled, grabbing your wrist. “patience, baby. i’ll give you what you want.”
you fell back again, opting to obey him because you were honestly too far gone to come up with anything else to do.
and he did, taking off his sweats, along with the rest of his clothes and pressing his body to yours. his lips were connected back to you and you clawed at his shoulders—anything to ground yourself—while his held your torso down firmly.
he looked between your bodies as he lined himself with your entrance. your head was thrown back, and he pressed a chaste kiss to the middle of your neck before mumbling. “you are pretty when you cry, y/n.” and pushing in slowly.
the stretch only burned for a minute until you moaned almost embarrassingly loud with each shallow thrust. a hand instinctively come up to hide them away. but, that only lasted so long until sunwoo intertwined his fingers with yours, pushing them into the bed on either side of your head.
“don’t hide them, baby,” he sighed against your lips. “please.”
and, whether you wanted to or not, you didn’t have a choice. the noises fell freely from your lips into his shoulder, as he sucked and nipped at your neck again.
“i-is it good?” you could barely hear him, your ears ringing with pleasure; was it good? is he stupid?
you choked on a chuckle, feeling him angle himself just perfectly inside you to brush against your g-spot. “holy fuck,”
“right there, baby?” he did it again, taking notes and storing them away in the back of his mind. your head lulled back again, and he watched your face contort, mouth falling open. “does it feel good?” you couldn’t reply, his thrusts only getting harder after that.
you could feel the band in your stomach tightening, and you feared you wouldn’t even be able to tell him you were getting so close, so fast—too fast.
but, somewhere deep-down, he already knew.
“fuck, you feel so good, y/n.” he sighed, lips ghosting over yours. “i must be the luckiest man in the world, right?” it was rhetorical, but even if you felt the need to answer, all that was coming out of your mouth was moans, groans, and mewls. “perfect body—fuck—perfect personality, perfect pussy, perfect fucking mouth,” he grabbed your chin, your free hand now going to clutch into the skin on his arm. his eyes met your tear-filled, and blurry ones. “open your mouth,”
there was a fire within you when you did as he said, mouth falling open. he spat on your tongue, and you didn’t know whether you came right then or just flat-out died.
“swallow it,” he said—no, demanded—almost making it an impossible task by putting his fingers into your mouth, pushing them to the back of your throat, and making you gag around him. he felt you clench harder at the act. “gonna fuck this throat one day, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
you would.
but, he was spewing heated words into a brick wall. “you’re mine, right?” he asked, taking his saliva-covered fingers from your mouth and bringing them between your bodies.
the moment his fingers landed on your clit, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. the hand that was still intertwined with his was losing circulation from how hard your were gripping it, and the other was scratching his perfect skin hard enough to bleed.
no one had ever made you feel so cold, yet so fucking warm at the same time. nothing you've ever experienced has been as intense and kim sunwoo; the delinquent soccer player. you feared no one could ever make you feel like this again.
so, of course you were his.
“look at me, y/n.” he whispered, kissing along your jaw gently—in contrast to the heavy and hard thrusts he kept at a steady rhythm. “c’mon, y/n, be a good girl. please.”
you felt the impending desire to now, head leveling. his forehead then came to rest against it, fighting off your urge to let it roll back again.
he pecked your lips between sentences. “mine, right?” god, he kept asking an obvious question. “be mine, okay? cum for me,” he circled your clit faster, determined to make you finish one last time. “i got you.”
his voice alone was enough to make you topple over the edge, your noises raising a couple octaves. your vision went white, body convulsing under sunwoo, who kept his eyes on your face the entire time; in awe of you. he fucked you through it of course, mumbling praises, before the overwhelming feeling of fire bloomed between you two; disguised by overstimulation.
you mewled. “woo, p-please stop.” he kissed you quiet, slowing down. but, you didn’t actually want him to stop. “h-hurts… just a little,”
his hand intertwined with yours again. “being such a good girl—taking it so well. just a little more, okay? i promise,” he sighed, feeling the way your walls clenched him in, barely letting him pull out, only causing him to thrust harder. “almost there, y/n, where do you want it?”
your legs caged him against you. “fill me up, please.” and you weren’t above begging for it, especially not in a state of post-euphoria. “cum in me.”
he threw his head back momentarily, fighting off a strong urge to start a second round. how in gods name did he get so lucky? he thought to himself, bringing his forehead back to yours.
he locked eyes onto you. “yeah?” you nodded slightly, eyes full of tears you didn’t know if you’d shed. “gonna be so good and take it all?”
you moaned when he started grinding against you, your clit being stimulated by his pubic-bone.
“could fuck you forever.” he admitted. “do you want me to?”
you spewed out a quiet yes, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was being serious—maybe he was. you were too far gone to even begin guessing.
he kissed you again, desperately fighting your tongue with his. he continued to kiss down your jaw and into your neck, leaving glistening marks in his wake. he sucked on your collarbone, finding a sweet-spot you didn’t even know you had, and biting down for a second. your mouth fell open in a silent scream, an orgasm you didn’t even know was there, washing over you.
sunwoo just kept forcing you to learn about yourself—you guess, it’s a good thing you’ve always been known for studying, isn’t it?
your intense orgasm triggered his, a soft groan leaving his lips as uneven thrusts made sure you both were fully satisfied.
you felt fuzzy, brain completely melted under his touch. your heavy breathing mixed with his, his body fully collapsing from exhaustion. however, his weight wasn’t enough to suffocate you, so you let him stay where he was, breaking your hand from his and threading it into his damp hair.
the silence was loud—heartbeats intertwined—as you both came down, the reality about to set in.
would he push you away after this? did he even mea—
“i meant it, by the way.” your eyebrows creased. you weren’t even sure if you had imagined that. and, if you didn’t feel the rumbling of his chest on yours as he spoke, you might’ve believed it was only in your head. “be mine, okay?”
little did he know, you already were.
you whispered out a reply. “okay.”
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The Rolling Stones - Paint It Black 1966
"Paint It Black" is a song by the English rockband the Rolling Stones. A product of the songwriting partnership of Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, it is a raga rock song with Indian, Middle Eastern and Eastern European influences and lyrics about grief and loss. Two months after it being released as a non-album single, London Records included it as the opening track on the American version of the band's 1966 studio album Aftermath, though it is not on the original UK release.
Originating from a series of improvisational melodies played by Brian Jones on the sitar, the song features all five members of the band contributing to the final arrangement although only Jagger and Richards were credited as songwriters. In contrast to previous Rolling Stones singles with straightforward rock arrangements, "Paint It Black" has unconventional instrumentation, including a prominent sitar, the Hammond organ and castanets. The song was influential to the burgeoning psychedelic genre as the first chart-topping single to feature the sitar, and widened the instrument's audience.
"Paint It Black" was a major chart success for the Rolling Stones, remaining 11 weeks (including two at number one) on the US Billboard Hot 100, and 10 weeks (including one atop the chart) on the Record Retailer chart in the UK. Upon a reissue in 2007, it reentered the UK Singles Chart for 11 weeks. It was the band's third number-one single in the US and sixth in the UK. The song also topped charts in Canada and the Netherlands.
"Paint It Black" was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2018. In 2011, the song was added to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame's list of "The Songs that Shaped Rock and Roll". It has seen commercial use in film, video games and other entertainment media, such as Full Metal Jacket (1987), The Devil's Advocate (1997), Wednesday (2022), as well as being used as a plot device in the supernatural horror film Stir of Echoes (1999).
"Paint It Black" received a total of 92,8% yes votes!
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Can you please do something, with Matt teaching the reader how to finger herself? 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
"𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑺𝑶 𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑶𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬" 𝑴.𝑺
❥ 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : 𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕, 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝑺𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑶𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈) 𝒍𝒎𝒌 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆
❥ 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 1 : 𝑴𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒃𝒐𝒙 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏 (𝒐𝒃𝒗), 𝒔𝒐 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒑𝒍𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑, 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖!!
❥ 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 2 : 𝑯�� 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒚𝒔𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕
༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻
You and Matt have been dating for almost three months now, never done anything really sexual
except the making out between the two of youBut you wanted to try, you wanted to please him, and yourself.
So thats why this happened
Matt, Chris and Nick were just done filming the new Wednesday video, you were in Matt's room.
Sitting there and reading some new book you got, while listening to some music in your headphones.
You saw a text from Matt, "Are you still up?"
You answered with a yes, after five minutes, Matt came in the room.
Locking the door behind him, because Nick and Chris love to just come without knocking.
You took out your headphones when you saw him, stopping the song, and closing your book.
"Hi pretty baby" He came close to you, laying down on the bed beside you.
"Hi" you said shyly, kissing him on the cheek, and he returned the favor.
"Was everything alright with the filming?"
"Yeah, it was, what about you hm?" Matt looked straight into your eyes, smiling.
"Ive been reading and listening to music, for 3 hours straight" you smiled back at him, getting closer to him so you can hug him.
"Yeah? What were you reading baby" he asked, curious.
"Book" you said quickly while blushing.
"Yeah, obviously" Matt chuckled while looking at you.
"Anyways, uh.." nervously you started picking on your nails.
"Whats wrong?" he looked at you worried
"No..never mind,"
"Cmon y/n, tell me." Matt demanded.
"You know..ive never done, uh-anything, sexual.." You now avoided his gaze, blushing madly.
"Yeah, what about that hm?" He asked teasingly, he knew what exactly you meant.
"Neither with myself neither with..you" looking up at him for a second, then you looked away once again.
"Want me to teach you baby?" You nodded.
"I-if you want to.." he smiled at your sudden shyness.
Then he started kissing your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses, here and there.
You whimpered from the feeling of his lips, on your hot skin.
"Gonna teach you first, how to touch your little pussy" he murmured against your neck.
"Y-yeah, okay" whining, when he bit your neck slightly.
"Yeah? C'mon," he said while addressing you to remove your clothes, and you did, first your top and then your shorts.
"lay between my legs." He started positioning you two, your head laying against his chest, and your legs spread over his legs.
"Give me your hand sweet girl" he placed a quick peck on your cheek.
You gave him your hand, his own laying on yours.
"Now" placing your hands on your pussy, "Gonna touch your clit first okay?" You nodded.
"Pl-please Matt" he smirked from your neediness.
"Such a needy baby, having me teaching her how to, touch herself. Because shes too dumb to find out alone hm?" He started motioning your hand with his
On your clit, rubbing slowly.
"F-fuck yes! Please matt" you let out a small moan, when the pace went to fast from slow.
"Shh, im right here, gonna give you what you want" he kissed your forehead sweetly.
You felt your stomach tightening, and you moaned out louder.
"M-matt i-i think" closing your eyes shut, you whimpered.
"Gonna cum? Go on baby, cum." And you did, moaning out his name.
He continued rubbing your clit, you tried to jerk your hips away, from the over stimulation.
"No, no," he slaped your clit slightly, making you whine.
"Now youre going to finger yourself." Placing your hand between your hole.
"Start with the middle fingers first," you started putting your middle finger inside slowly, whining from the slight burning feeling.
"Good girl, now that you're done, start pushing it in and out, to stretch yourself" you started pushing it in and put, the feeling slightly pleasurable.
"Curl your finger up." You listened to him, curling it up, you breath out shakily.
"Feel good, no? Try putting another one." You nodded against his chest, starting to put in your ring finger.
Whimpering from another stretch, you started pushing your fingers in and out.
Curling them up as matt said.
"Good baby, always listening to me." He said stroking you hair.
"M-matt it-it doesn't feel that good.." you pouted.
"No?" How about i do it instead yeah?" You nodded slightly, getting your fingers out of your pussy.
"Give me your fingers babe" you did, confused.
Them he sucked on your fingers, cleaning them up.
You whimpered from his actions.
"Pl-please" he stopped sucking on your fingers, and chuckled.
"Shh, here, relax now okay? Gonna start with one finger" nodding, you spread out your legs more.
He then started rubbing your, leaky hole. Drawing small circles
"D-dont tease" you closed your eyes shut, and whined.
He chuckled at that
"Easy now, here" he now starting pushing his middle, finger inside your cunt.
You moaned softly, from the feeling of his much longer and thicker fingers.
He started pumping it in and out, circling your clit with his thumb.
Your hips started chasing his hand.
"M-more-nghh-Matt please" you needed more, more of him.
And then he started pushing his, ring finger too. Pumping in and out. His pace getting faster.
The room was filled with filthy sounds
Your slick cunt, your whimpers and moans.
And his heavy breathing.
"You gonna cum, sweetheart? Huh?, can feel your pretty pussy. Tightening around my fingers." Matt kissed your cheek after the last word.
You nodded at that, feeling a new feeling.
"I think-i think" you were a whining mess, under his control.
"Go on baby, just let out." He chuckled and pumped his fingers, in and out
Faster, and his assault on your clit getting harder.
You moaned his name out loudly, when you came, for the second time.
"Good girl, my pretty baby, you did so good." Matt praised while kissing you.
He then removed your fingers from your cunt
And licked & sucked them clean.
You whimpered at the sight before you.
"Taste so good baby, gonna let me have a proper taste? Hm"
"Y-yes please Matthew" he smirked at your desperation.
He then, pushed you gently, and laid you down. On the bed.
Going between your legs and spreading them open.
"Ready?" You nodded
He licked a long stripe from, your hole to your clit.
Sucking on your clit, you tried to close your legs, but matt hiked them around his shoulders.
"M-matty! F-fuck feels so good" he started sucking more, from your words
He pulled out slightly and collected saliva, spitting on your clit.
He looked up at you, and started shaking his head into your pussy.
His long tongue doing magical things, that has your legs shaking.
Soon you felt that feeling again.
"M'gonna cum!" He groaned into your cunt.
"M-matt!" You moaned out his name, like a mantra.
Soon after, you suddenly came, hard.
Squirting into his face, you blushed at this
"S-shit matt! I didn't meant to-" he kissed your clit, and then pulled back.
"You're doing this shit again." He bite his bottom lip slightly
"But-" looking at him.
"Not a question ma."
༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻
𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆.
𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒃𝒐𝒙 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏 💋
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#female reader#nick sturniolo#mega katya44#matt sturniolo x fem reader#matt sturniolo smut
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somethin’ stupid
“and then i go and spoil it all, by saying somethin’ stupid like ‘i love you’”
===+++===
pairing: wednesday addams x reader
summary: even knowing that your relationship with wednesday is one huge grey area, you can't help the words that come tumbling from your lips one night while on an expedition together.
warnings: blood, violent attack scene, angsty pining, mentions of sex, fear of the dark
word count: 4.2k
A/N: first post, kinda nervous. honestly pumped to start posting on here after being somewhat new to writing. will try my best not to suck.
===+++===
It’s only after you meet Wednesday Addams for the first time that you understand why storms are named after people.
In the near five months total she had been in your life, she had quickly climbed to the top priority, and you found yourself trapped in her rain bands, tugged under her dark, swelling tide and drawn to less direct ways.
Now and likely until the very end of time, you followed her through the forest, peeking around each passing tree and shining your flashlight into the dark. It was a knight's sword for you, and you held it like a weapon so as to ward off evil spirits or howling beasts. Only, half of the time it ended up being a squirrel.
It seemed antithetical, to walk into the pitch black forest that had killed several hikers and injured Eugene, -or more the big ass creature inside it had, but Wednesday had never cared much for what made sense, and you knew better than to argue with her.
The rain continued to fall around the both of you, splattering against the hood of your rain coat and rolling down your sputtering lips, tracing your nose on the way down. If Wednesday was at all affected by the rain, she hadn't let it show yet. Not that she let much show, that was.
You shivered from a sudden gust of cold, wet wind rushing over your knuckles from where they white-gripped the rubber wrapping of your flashlight. "Are we almost there yet?" You asked, squinting into the trees. "I have to get up early tomorrow."
There was no possible way Wednesday could know where she was going in the sheer amount of darkness fended off by a flimsy Acebeam, but she pushed through like she did. Maybe orienteering was just part of the outré magic she always carried with her, or at least that's what you figured it probably was. In another life she had been a cheerful girl scout, though you knew better than to suggest that aloud.
The same could not be said for you, who was an utter idiot about directions and probably would have driven off a cliff by now without the use of a GPS. Wednesday had once said you wouldn't be able to find your way out of a cardboard box, and offensively, she was probably right.
It didn't make sense why she chose you of all people to bring along, then. You had no special strength or sight, and virtually no knowledge on how to investigate a murder, especially the serial kind. The only ability you had allowed you to read thoughts and minds, though you never dared read Wednesday's, even when you itched to know what she was thinking.
Despite feeling more like an achor dragging her boat down, almost every evening, at around the same time after dark, she showed up on your doorstep to tug you off to some dangerous place.
Maybe you were secretly hoping for a reward of some sort. She often indulged you as such, lips like a heroin shot directly to your veins, powering you through the day as you watched the clock tick away into night anticipating the next rush. Enid was right. You were whipped for her.
"Your protesting doesn't make the journey any shorter," she replied, turning with the dark look that always lurked in the back of her eyes.
You knew the movements well: when she glared, her eyes lowered slightly and her mouth tensed. One could not help but watch in awe, storing the memory for later. Or, at least those ‘whipped’ for her couldn’t. She spun back around to face forward, your flashlight pointing over her shoulder into the brooding dark.
The rain only seemed to come down harder from there, punishing you both for slogging through the mushy leaves when sane people would be indoors. But Wednesday would not settle until she found Arcadia.
You cleared your throat, uneasy with the ensuing silence.
"Where are we even going, Wednesday? We've been walking forever," you said, looking down at the pale grey rocks as you stepped over them. You were grateful for being clever enough to remember hiking boots.
"We're finding evidence," she replied. "I was informed of a suspicious cave out in the forest, and-" Wednesday's words came rushing to a halt as her foot clipped the rock in front of her. She stumbled a bit, and you threw out an arm to her back, there if she needed something to steady herself on.
It was uncoordinated and it was clunky at best, and Wednesday was far from appreciative. She jolted back from your touch as if you had stung her, glaring as harsh as ever. "Sorry," you said. "I didn't want you to fall." The tips of your ears had begun to burn again, upon realising you were made the fool for another time in a row.
"You should have," said Wednesday, walking ahead. "It simulates dropping dead." Of course, on you, such a statement did not have the desired effect. Whereas most would have replied in shock or disgust, you laughed. Out loud, right at her. The gall. She whipped back to you, perplexed and annoyed by the noise. "Have something to share?"
You grinned. "You can act cool all you want, but if you had actually landed in the mud, you would have been pissed." Her expression went from glare to glower impressively quickly, though you took great glee in the fact she didn't try to dismiss it.
Anyone who had just met her would have been terrified, but you knew that look meant she hated just how much you were right. Wednesday's moody eyes lowered to your jacket, as if she was looking for an insult to sling in response.
"Why are you yellow?"
You blinked, then shrugged. "Because for someone so intelligent I'm the only one who remembered a raincoat."
"The beast will eat you wether you're rained on or not," she replied reasonably.
You blanched at this. It was apparent the possibility had never crossed your mind. "It eats people????"
Suddenly the darkness of the woods only seemed to worsen and the rain seemed to come down even harder, as if life was laughing at the terror it was causing. You had never been one for haunted houses, and you decided in that instant that this was far worse than any haunted house you had ever been to.
Wednesday shrugged, and you were far from put at ease by that. She glanced at you up through mischievous lashes, entirely knowing what she was doing and enjoying every sadistic moment of it.
"I suppose we may find out tonight. I should offer up you, the yellow highlighter, first. You have longer bones than I do, and I'm sure it would appreciate a snack, after-"
"Ha. Ha."
As surprising as was Wednesday's capacity to joke, you knew that's all it was. Such falsehoods could not be exposed to the public, and she would rather die than admit she cared for anyone. That was her secret. You knew to keep it well.
It had been weird to see Wednesday attempt comedy at first. Often times you still thought she may be dead serious. But on these nightly expeditions it seemed she could joke freely. Sometimes she kissed you freely. You just had to know she didn't do it for you. She told you constantly, just to be sure.
From in front, Wednesday trembled from a sudden angry breeze and you watched her, sighing and tugging off your raincoat. You tossed it over her shoulders wordlessly; Wednesday didn't acknowledge it either. She put one arm in, then another, but didn't pull the hood up, and you rolled your eyes. "Pull the hood up, Wednesday. Don't be stubborn."
"I'm fine," she shot back, tone sharp and piercing to any sort of armour you could have put up. But even that didn't make you buy it.
"Your hair is like, stuck to your forehead, Wednesday. Just pull up the hood part."
"I don't even want to be in this dreadful thing, why would I want more of it on me. It's yellow."
"It's keeping you warm."
"I'm allergic to colours."
"Well then I guess it's great you brought a black one- oh, wait! That's right! You didn't."
She blinked at you unappreciatively, but your unimpressed expression made her give in, and she begrudgingly did as she was told. With a hood now over her, shrouding her soft hair from the harsh rain, you felt a bit better about her being out in the cold. After a moment she grumbled, messing with the sleeves. "Why are your arms so freakishly long?"
You didn't answer, biting back a response that included the word 'short.' It would have been entirely unproductive and probably earned a rock thrown at your head. Instead, you focused on the small row of houses you could see on a road in the far distance.
Their windows were small, warm boxes in the dryness, as opposed to the pouring, angry storm only a heathen of some sort would be caught in. It looked the same as it had the week before when you had passed the same area with Wednesday, and you recognised the same lamp that sat in the same spot of the same window on the second floor. It hadn't moved even an inch and neither had the flowers in the pot sitting next to it.
You hummed, "I love streets like those. It looks so warm and comfortable. I could be out here forever and it would still be the same warm place."
"Poetic," Wednesday dryly replied. Poetry had never seemed to move her much, beyond the grim ones from Poe about death and despair. She had tried to teach you about it once, during an impromptu "study session," which was what Wednesday usually called hunting you down after class and sticking your head between her legs.
It was the very first time she had let you stick around after, and the more and more often she let it happen, the more you felt yourself allowing for false hopes. Of course, accusing her of growing fond was a way to end up in an early grave and you knew better.
It had been a whisper, really, what she said with your head resting on her stomach, arms against the skin of her thighs. You were both sweating, terribly so, and then came, "years of love have been forgotten, in the hatred of a minute." It was only a whisper, and you weren't even sure Wednesday had spoken it into existence. But you looked up, and she was staring down at you, eyes unreadable. Her mouth was tensed into a grimace; a symbol for words unsaid.
"What's that?" You asked, leaning your head back.
She had shook her head. "It's Poe. He founded the school."
"I know who Edgar Allan Poe is, Wednesday. I meant what you were saying."
She looked away to the window, like eye contact then would have doomed her. "I'm not sure." It was a lie, and you knew it, but you couldn’t scan Wednesday’s thoughts and it was the first time she had let you stay propped up against her. You knew better than to ruin that.
"Why do you like that kind of poetry, anyhow? It's awfully depressing."
"It's a reminder," she replied, eyes still away and tone flat. "You and I will be in the ground someday, or maybe I will be in the family crypt. 'As you are now, so once, was I.' And other such ruminations. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Her gaze sliced back to you, as if she were gaging your reaction. "Either way, we're doomed."
You hadn't known what she meant by that, and you still didn't know, walking through the forest. She spoke in riddles, and it was impossible to know if she wanted you to decipher them or leave them as they were. Her vagueness with emotions was her armour, maybe.
Wednesday was usually cold and efficient and exact, in a way you could appreciate. You were far warmer, and though you seemed to constantly trip over yourself, patiently waiting for any sort of warmth to be returned, she stayed with the same chill that kept you close enough to bring comfort to her fingers, but never close enough to make her melt.
"When we get there, I want you to stay outside and keep watch. Don't come inside with me, I want to look around alone. If you hear anything or any noise or thoughts over the rain, give me the signal I trained you on," said Wednesday, looking through the bowers and thread veins of roots so as not to trip again.
"You're not my boss, Wednesday, and I'm not your henchman," you said, the words spilling out in annoyance. You hated when she went into work mode. She looked over at you, eyes giving an intense challenge.
"What am I then?"
You rolled your eyes at this. "Like my hobby, at best." It wasn't true, and both of you knew it.
"Do you kiss and sleep with all your 'hobbies,' then?" Wednesday's eyes studied you.
"Maybe," you shrugged. "I don't really kiss and tell." Actually, you hadn't kissed anybody since she had made out with you two days prior, and you hadn't kissed somebody other than her since she had first kissed you two months ago.
You knew, though, that Wednesday had done similar peregrinations with the normie boy, Tyler, from town who worked at the Weathervane. Sometimes you wondered if she put her lips on his, too. Other times, you couldn't help wondering if either of you really mattered to her.
She had said no when you asked her that once before, but slow danced and made out with you immediately after answering, at the Rave'N, so your confusion was understandable. It was like she both hungered for you and hated you for it at the same time, and you knew getting thrown around like that wasn’t what you wanted. But if it gave you her, even for a brief moment, you were all too eager.
From behind the both of you, you heard a branch snap, spinning around as the rain poured. There was nothing visibly there; your stupid flashlight didn't reach out that far and no moving through the brush could be heard. "Did you hear that?" you said to Wednesday, freezing completely. She nodded, but did not seem phased even slightly, turning to watch your terror with an eyebrow raised.
“Likely an animal," said Wednesday.
You were still frozen to the spot, staring into the dark as fear screamed at you to run away. “Are you okay?” she asked, puzzled.
You shook your head, sticking your hand out towards her. “No.” It was a question that needn't be asked. Wednesday examined your fingers closely, like she was contemplating if it was a bad idea, but then grabbed your palm and held it tightly in hers, locking the digits in with her own and squeezing it gently. It was an immediate comfort and you unfroze, Wednesday pulling you into the dark.
===+++===
"Your obnoxious coat is warm...thank you." She seemed to spit the last part out with a bit of reluctance, but you appreciated it nevertheless. For around the last half mile, you had been getting rained on instead. Droplets dripped from your hair, rolling down your cheeks and over your lips before dribbling from your chin.
"You can keep it for a while. Until you get your own, I mean," you said, absentmindedly playing with the flashlight. You would rather die than admit you were nervous aloud. Luckily, it didn't seem you needed to.
She stopped short at your words, grabbing your collar roughly with her hand and balling it between her fingers. It was harsh and it was passionate, like Wednesday always seemed to be in flares. Her mouth crashed into yours, teeth clinking together, toes poking into the mushy ground so she could even reach your face.
Unfortunately, it was over as soon as it began, and she pulled away quickly, walking away and leaving you behind, panting awkwardly as your mind began to spin. She was all too much, everything about her. You couldn’t stop yourself. "I love you,” you blurted out.
From the way she whipped back to you, it hadn’t been nearly quiet enough. Silence seemed to echo through the clearing, even in the raging storm around that pounded into trees and pooled in mushy puddles. She stared at you, and all you could do was stare back. Wednesday stomped back over, cheeks red and dark eyes shining with an unusual capriciousness. “What?”
You shook your head. “Nothing. Talking to myself.”
But she didn’t believe you. In previous attempts by you to draw out any indication of her affections, she could blatantly ignore it or change the subject without answering. Now, she was frustrated by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. And this time, how your words demanded she do the same.
“What did you say,” she demanded. “Tell me right now, or I’ll-“
“I said I love you, Wends,” you cut her off before she could make a threat. God, she stared. She stared and stared and stared at you with her eyes in the dark, looking like she would be the one to read your mind and not the other way around. The humidity of the rain was suffocating you, but the powerful wind filled your lungs with air again, in a vicious, heaving cycle.
She took a small step forward, tilting her head up at you like she was inspecting you up close. “You don’t mean what you say.”
"I really wish I didn't, but I absolutely do." Your tone burned with a relieving candor, and Wednesday's eyebrows furrowed, before she backed away again. Your flashlight turned towards the ground, lowering your face into shadow.
"I told you, I don't want anything more from you," she said. "You're spoiling what we already have." She seemed more agitated than anything, but you stood your ground.
"But I feel like there's more here, Wednesday. I know I'm not crazy, you can feel it too. So I don't know why you're being all tough, when I just want to take care of you. That's all I've ever wanted."
"Learn to want for something else then," she argued back. "We can't work, we won't, I-"
"Why?"
"I told you why," she replied, crossing her arms. "Years of love-"
"No no, none of that bullshit you know you want to confuse me with. Just lay it out, plain and simple."
She bit her mouth shut, then narrowed her eyes at you before giving a huff. "Have you been reading my thoughts?"
"What?" Your forehead creased into lines, staring at her intently. "You know I don't."
"I don't know if you're aware, but I see you, in my visions sometimes. I actually think about the same one often, when I'm with you."
"What am I doing, then?" You asked, feeling a sickness come to your stomach. You didn’t know what future event you would be up to, but you could guarantee Wednesday you would stop yourself from hurting her.
“You’re being killed. By the beast.”
“…Oh.”
“You’re running far away, being chased. I see you get tackled or hit, and you fall into the dirt. Then I see your face being slashed over and over again by a creature, and you appear to bleed out on the floor of a forest.”
“Wednesday, that won’t come true.” You tried to assure her, but a small hand came forward, covering your mouth, shushing you. The gentle palm pressed against your soaked lips, fingertips ghosting the lines of your cheeks.
“I would hate you for it, dying. What I hate even more is that your closeness to me is likely what causes this. I don’t love you, (Y/n). I can’t. Stop trying to make me. It’s only pitiful and painful for the both of us.”
You reached up for her hand, pulling it away. “But how do you know it’s definitely you that ruins it? What if it’s something else, or what if it’s you saying no?”
“Because as painful as it is, I’m certain I break your heart if I indulge you.”
“Wednesday,” your voice shook a bit. “You’re breaking my heart right now.”
“This,” she said, “This is why I cannot give you more than I already have. I’m not my parents, (Y/n). Can’t you just be happy with our current relationship? You always try to complicate things. Like a stupid little puppy.”
You took a step back like a wounded animal. “What? You’re being mean.”
“Maybe if I am it'll get through to you. We won’t work, and if we don’t try to make it work, I won’t end up breaking your heart, and you won’t run away.” Her speaking volume was getting louder now.
“That’s a stupid plan!” You said raising your voice.
“And you’re a fool!” She said back. “I’m trying to protect you and take what I can get at the same time."
"You're hurting me."
"You're hurting yourself. I keep pushing you away. Stop coming back."
You frowned, feeling your face grow hot. "I come back because I care, and I know you care too."
"Caring for you gets me nowhere. You're doomed, (Y/n). I'm trying to protect you, so do us both a favour and get as far away from me as possible. Don't let me pull you back."
"Wednesday, I-"
"Go, you idiot." You swallowed her words. She was still wearing your yellow raincoat, looking at you with the most steely expression you had ever seen. You stepped forward in silence, only the mushing of the leaves filling the space between you. You unwrapped the armband of the flashlight from around your wrist and extended it out to her.
"Here. For the cave." She blinked at you, then she took it. Without another word, you did as you were told, stepping off into the dark and pulling against the magnetic field. With your ability to break past her facades turned off, you couldn't see the deep regret that wormed its way into her stare, watching your back retreat into the tree line.
===+++===
It only took around five minutes for you to regret not having the flashlight. The storm had turned to complete and utter chaos, and you could hear thunder and lightning booming and cracking against the night sky. Everything was so much darker than before, and it seemed to grow up and out like a giant ladder, turning to shadow and fog a few feet in front of you.
Part of you was still mad at Wednesday. Knowing she was scared for you didn't make it any of an easier pill to swallow. Neither did knowing you would likely die soon.
The looming question still sat unanswered, weighing down the wrinkles of your brain and cozying up at the mantle of your thoughts. Would it be weeks? Months? If she never ended up catching it (though that was very unlikely) how many years would you have left?
From behind you, you heard a branch snap again. You spun, looking around. An animal maybe. Then, you heard footsteps. They were big, though not an animal. Maybe it was Wednesday. She wore thick shoes often, with heavy soles.
It was only with the sudden realisation that there was no flashlight with the figure coming towards you, that your eyes began to widen and a chill shot up your spine like a spooked animal. It only took the dropping of your telepathic cancelling to fully realise what was about to happen.
KILL. KILL. KILL.
The monster's thinking was thunderous and loud, and it reverberated within your skull as you turned to run. You stomped your foot into the swampy ground, running the fastest you felt you ever had. KILL. The forest seemed to blur, rushing past you as you fled through the trees and smacking at branches that sagged in your way.
KILL. You heard the footsteps now, coming up quickly. They sounded huge, and with every bound you could hear greenery get smushed behind you as the beast moved through it. KILL. You had no idea how close it was behind you, but there was no time to look either. In one rush, you found yourself back in a stoney quarry, and in the far distance illuminated a KILL. streetlight standing over a mountain road.
You ran towards it, face scratched by a branch in the process as you forgot to swipe it away. The wood KILL. connected with a stabbing pain, piercing your lip as you ran, but you didn't so much as wince. "HELP!" You yelled KILL. out, trying to catch any attention as you ran for the pavement, and you were almost there. KILL.
You were too slow. A set of long, pointy claws latched onto your back, sinking into the skin and ripping you down with a yelp, throwing you to the ground. Your back slid into the tree with a sickening crack, and pain seemed to freeze your body. KILL.
Standing over you was the muscular, horrifyingly disfigured body of a towering creature, its eyes shining with violent zeal. It lowered with a clicking growl, eyeing your heaving, bleeding body and sneering. KILL. KILL. KILL.
Your eyebrows furrowed, blood spilling from your lips. In a single instant, you knew who it was, digging past the monstrous yells to the real thoughts of the boy underneath. "Tyler?"
Its claws sunk into your stomach, and everything went dark.
===+++===
a/n: a part two maybe? idk, i'm no rocket scientist. anyways, this is my very first post, so, here we go i guess? excited to start this and grateful for anyone who reads this. i tried to spellcheck but if it isn't perfect please please please let me know, i would fix it immediately.
#wednesday addams x reader#jenna ortega x reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams#jenna ortega x you#wednesday netflix#jenna ortega
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Blue states should play “constitutional hardball”
NEXT WEDNESDAY (October 23) at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, GEORGIA, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.
Nothing's more frustrating that watching the GOP smash norms and decency to advance policies that harm millions of Americas, unless it's that, plus Democratic officials stamping their feet and saying, "C'mon guys, play fair."
The GOP's game is called "constitutional hardball." Think: Mitch McConnell refusing to hold confirmation hearings on Obama's federal judiciary appointments, not never for Merrick Garland's Supreme Court seat – then filling the Federal judiciary with the least-qualified, most FedSoc-addled lunatics in US history, all for lifetime appointments.
As bad as this is at the federal level, it's even worse at in the states, especially the Republican "trifecta" states where the GOP holds the governorship and the state house and senate, where shameless gerrymandering and legislative attacks on hard-won ballot measures are the order of the day. GOP-held state governments engage in rampant interstate aggression, targeting out-of-state abortion providers, publishers, and journalists.
This is a one-sided Cold Civil War, because state Dems, for the most part, are unwilling to play hardball in return (the closest they come is when, say, California sets strict emissions controls and manufacturers adopt them nationwide, rather than making special cars for the giant California market). Republicans engage in constitutional hardball and Dems refuse to fight back, a phenomenon called "asymmetrical constitutional hardball":
https://columbialawreview.org/content/asymmetric-constitutional-hardball/
Writing for The American Prospect, Arkadi Gerney and Sarah Knight make the case for symmetrical constitutional hardball:
https://prospect.org/politics/2024-10-18-playing-hardball/
The pair argue first, that the best way to get Republican state houses to play fair is to credibly threaten them with retaliatory action. They cite the recent attempt at a last-minute change the way that Nebraska's Electoral College votes are apportioned, which would have given all of five the state's EC votes to Trump. Maine threatened to effect the same change to its Electoral College system, which would have given all four of its EC votes to Harris. Nebraska surrendered.
But there's also a second advantage to playing Constitutional Hardball: it makes blue states better. For example, Minnesota gives free college tuition to exceptional low/middle-income students. Neighboring North Dakota got tired of losing all its smartest kids Minnesota schools and created its own subsidy. As Gerney and Knight point out, Minnesota (and other blue states) still has a huge advantage when it comes to attracting top talent, because attending university in a state with legal abortion is vastly preferable (and safer) than doing a degree in a forced-birth state.
Red states are bent on making life horrible for some really great people. The hardworking, talented Haitian migrants caught in the Springfield pogroms that Trump incited would be a fine addition to any blue state town – anyone who's got the gumption to haul ass out of a failed state and make their all the way to Springfield is gonna be a fantastic neighbor, citizen and worker, just like my refugee grandparents and father, who endured a million times more hardship than their neighbors ever did, getting to Toronto, finding jobs, and starting their family.
Influxes of young, hardworking immigrants are especially good for rural towns with dwindling populations. No wonder rural towns with above-average net migration swung for Biden in 2020.
All over America, families are despairing of their lives in red states. Whether you're worried that you or someone you love might need to terminate a pregnancy, or you're worried about gender-affirming care for you or a loved one, you can put your worries to rest in a blue state. Same goes for nurses and doctors who are worried they can't do medicine unless it accords with the imaginary dictates of Bronze Age prophets as claimed by pencil-neck Hitler wannabe Bible-thumper with a private jet and a face from Walmart. Fill the blue states with great schools, libraries and hospitals, and invite everyone who wants to do their job in a free country to come and work at 'em. Line every state border with abortion and mifepristone clinics, and set up billboards advertising the quality of life, the jobs, and the freedom in blue state America.
Every blue state public pension fund should ban investments in fossil fuels, and invest like crazy in renewables, especially in Texas, to hasten the bankrupting of the petro-kleptocracy that controls the state. Blue states should tack surcharges on goods imported from "right to work" states where unions are effectively banned, to compensate for the additional product testing needed to ensure that scab products are safe to use (ahem, Boeing).
Create joint occupational licensure rules across blue states: if you're certified as a teacher, nurse, hairdresser or auto-mechanic in New York, you should be able to carry that certification with you to Minnesota, California, or Maine. Create multi-state funding pools to build public housing. Offer med-school scholarships to the smartest red state kids, at universities where they'll learn evidence-based obstetrics rather than the Lysenokist nonsense taught at the Roy Moore College of Pediatrics and Obstetrics.
Dems have to get over their fear of "states' rights" and start playing state-level hardball. This doesn't mean escalating cruelty. Quite the contrary: every cruel measure enacted as red state red meat is a chance for blue states to extend a kindness, and capture even more of the best, brightest and kindest of the nation, creating a race to the top that Republicans can only win by abandoning their performative cruelty and corruption.
Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/18/states-rights/#cold-civil-war
#pluralistic#states rights#cold civil war#constitutional hardball#extraterritoriality#federalism#abortion#lgbtq
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