backwardshatnick

[backwardshatnick]

i looooove the new theme <33

thank you inez!!! 💛😊😊

[backwardshatnick]

omg i love ur theme sm its so 2014

hehe thank you 💛 that's what i initially wanted to go for tbh!

[backwardshatnick]

a kiss more | c.s

⤑ contains: soft angst, emotional vulnerability, established relationship, comfort, slightly suggestive make-out.. and more

⤑ in which.. chris kisses like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he stops.. and you kiss like you’ve forgotten how.

Your lips are still when his find them—soft but unmoving, like you’re bracing for impact. Chris doesn’t hesitate. He never does when it comes to you.

His mouth is warm, familiar, tasting of spearmint gum and something that’s just him. His hands frame your face with a kind of reverence, thumbs brushing along your cheekbones like he’s praying. You feel it all—the way his heart stammers, the way his chest rises with hope—but you don’t move.

You don’t kiss back… Not really.

Not the way he’s kissing you, like he needs to prove something. Like he needs you to feel it. Like kissing you is the only way he knows how to say: please don’t shut me out again.

“Baby,” he whispers against your lips, voice barely there. “C’mon. I’m right here.”

You blink… so does he. Still kissing you, still waiting.

You try. You really do. But your mouth moves clumsily, lips parting on a delay, like your body’s buffering the affection. Your hands stay limp at your sides. There’s a sting in your throat—embarrassment, guilt, maybe both.

Chris pulls back just enough to see you, really see you. His brows crease, not in anger, but in worry. Gentle and careful.

“You don’t have to pretend,” he says quietly, pressing a forehead kiss that lingers. “Not with me.”

“I’m trying,” you whisper. “I want to. I just… I feel off. Like I’m stuck in my head and my body hasn’t caught up yet.”

His hands slide down, arms curling around your waist, tugging you close until your cheek meets his shoulder. You inhale slowly—his hoodie smells like fabric softener and home.

“Then don’t force it,” he murmurs. “Just let me hold you. I’ll wait for the rest.”

“M-maybe we should stop.. I-i dont wanna mess anything up.. I know im not the best at kissing-”

His hands don’t loosen. If anything, they hold tighter—one resting at the small of your back, the other curling up into your hair like he’s anchoring you to the moment. Like letting go isn’t even an option.

“Hey…” His voice is a hush, soft and steady against your temple. “You’re not messing anything up.”

You shake your head, face still tucked into the crook of his neck. “But I—I just froze. I always freeze. And you’re so good at it, and I never know where to put my hands, or how much tongue is too much, and—”

“Baby,” he says, pulling back just enough so he can look at you. His eyes flick across your face, warm and patient and never once judgmental. “You don’t need to be good at it.”

“But I want to be,” you whisper, shame bubbling at your throat. “For you.”

Chris exhales, not annoyed—just heartbroken that you even think that way.

“Sweetheart, kissing you isn’t something I judge. I kiss you because I want to feel close to you. Because I love being near you. You could literally just stand there and blink at me and I’d still think it was the best kiss of my life.”

You blink. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious.” He leans in, lips brushing your nose. “And for the record? You’re already really good at it. You just get shy, and that’s okay. I don’t need fireworks every time. I just need you.”

You feel yourself breathe, really breathe, for the first time in minutes. Your hands slide up, tentative, one curling into the back of his hoodie. He smiles—just a little.

Then you tip your chin and kiss him, It’s not perfect or practiced. But it’s real and Chris melts.

“See?” he murmurs when you pull away, dazed and dizzy. “You don’t have to try so hard. You’re my favorite, exactly as you are.”

“Okay…” you breathe out, voice barely there.

Like the word itself is fragile. Like saying it out loud might shatter the moment—or save it.

Chris’s thumb brushes your cheek again, and he nods, like that one syllable was everything he needed to hear.

You try again, slower this time.

Your hand rises, tentative, fingers hooking into the drawstrings of his hoodie like an anchor. His lips are already close—waiting, not pushing and when you meet him halfway, it’s nothing near perfect. It’s a little shaky, a little breathy. But its more than enough.

His lips move gently against yours, like a reminder instead of a request. No pressure. Just presence. Just him showing up, over and over again, until you feel safe enough to meet him there.

When he pulls back, just a little, your eyes flutter open. Chris looks at you like you just gave him the stars.

“That was perfect,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks flush anyway. “You’re biased.”

“Damn right I am,” he grins, then presses his forehead to yours. “Biased as hell. And still right.”

You laugh—just barely—but it’s the kind of laugh that breaks tension. The kind that stitches something back together.

And when you lean in again, this time it’s not hesitant. It’s home.

immaqulate's notes ✎ᝰ.ᐟ.. thank you anon for requesting! this was fun to write :)

⇢ taglist ⇢ main masterlist

[backwardshatnick]

i love all jane austen novels, but emma just hits differently.

i, too, am almost twentyone, i have friends and family who love me, and i try my best to help them and others.

but i'm so afraid that i'm failing, that i'm like emma and that i don't see the mistakes i make, that i hurt others by thinking i know what's best but actually hurting them, by snapping and saying things i don't really mean.

but emma is also so full of love, she grows and learns and her heart is good even if her actions not always are.

i'm just not sure if i want to be emma or if i'm afraid to already be like her.

[backwardshatnick]

⸝⸝ chris, matt, birdie and lucky go on a double date, that isn’t a double date, but is a double date ꒱

OR chris and birdie versus matt and lucky in a game of pool, lucky’s clueless on the rules but matt knows exactly how to play the game.

notes: based on this ask.

warnings: suggestive/super flirty vibes, and terrible descriptions of pool (that’s my bad. lmao)

“so, nick’s not comin’ tonight?”

chris asks casually, one arm slung around birdie’s waist. they’re sat across from you and matt at your usual table in the corner of your favourite bar, she’s sat on his lap despite the perfectly fine and available empty chair next to them.

birdie giggles at chris’ question, almost slightly suspicious in a way. “nope.” she shrugs, “it’s just the four of us tonight.” she sips her drink from the straw as she gives you a look like she’s speaking to you through eye contact. a look that she seems to be giving you a little too often these days.

you glance over at matt briefly to find him already looking over at you, but as soon as your eyes catch, he glances straight back to birdie who’s started rambling about something else entirely now.

matt’s hand is under the table where no one can see, and his index finger is drawing slow, lazy patterns on your thigh, just below where your skirt sits. sure, it’s innocent, but you know that he’s doing it deliberately to get a reaction, as he nods along at what birdie’s saying.

“should we play a game of pool?” you blurt out suddenly, standing from your chair despite never having played before, almost instantly regretting it considering chris and matt are two of the most competitive people you know.

you look over at the table, and chris is raising a brow at you, “since when d’you wanna play pool?”

“since right now.” you say quickly, already making your way over to the pool table besides you, hoping that they’ll all follow.

birdie slides off chris’ lap instantly, grabbing her glass as she comes and joins you, both of you assuming it would be you two versus chris and matt.

“we playin’ singles or in pairs?” chris calls, as he walks over, grabbing two cues from the stand.

“pairs.” matt answers before anyone else can speak up, glancing over at you like the decision is done. “me and lucky, versus you two.”

“bold of you to assume that i even wanted to go with you.” you tease playfully, raising a brow at him.

he steps closer, a smirk on his lips as he passes you the cue. his fingers brush with yours, and the touch between you both lingers for a second too long, in the way it always seems to. “what can i say? we’re a dream team, pretty girl.”

chris and birdie move to the other side of the table from you and matt, already in their own little world. he’s whispering his half serious game plan on how they’re going to get the win as he stands with his arms round her waist and chin on her shoulder. she’s shaking her head and calling him out for his smug attitude but she’s full of giggles, and you know she’s loving it as he places soft kisses repeatedly to her cheek between sentences.

you glance down at your pool cue, now realising that you’re not actually sure what you’re doing and it doesn’t take long for matt to notice.

“it’s not gonna bite you, lucky.”

“duh, i know that.” you roll your eyes, shaking your shoulders as you step forward with a false confidence. you lean over the table slightly, lining up your first shot even though you haven’t really got any idea what you’re doing.

“c’mon, let me help you,” matt mutters, stepping in closely behind you. close enough that his chest is brushing your back, and the scent of his familiar cologne washes over you all at once. he places one hand gently on your waist to steady you both, and the other he places on your wrist gently, to help guide you.

you can feel chris and birdie’s eyes on the two of you from the opposite side of the table, but suddenly it feels like it’s just you and matt in the whole bar.

“you just need to hit that white ball,” he whispers, pointing to it. his voice low in your ear, “‘kay? that’s all, you got this.”

you nod, his hand still helping you guide the cue in right direction.

“line it up just like that,” he says, voice even softer now. “good girl.”

his tone of voice is teasing, and you know exactly what he’s doing. “now you just gotta take the shot,” he whispers, “niiiice and slow, pretty girl. just the way you like it.”

your breath catches in your throat, and you shoot.

two balls roll into a hole, one after the other. just like that.

birdie whistles, dragging you back to the room. “you’re a born natural, lucky.”

you stand up straight, a giggle slipping from your lips at her comment trying to disguise how flustered you are inside, and it’s not long until chris starts lining up his first shot, a competitive look on his face as you turn around to see matt facing you, a smirk on his lips.

“see, told you. dream team, baby.”

instagram stories from the night ꒱

⸝⸝ left is lucky’s, right is birdie’s ꒱

divider credit: chrisssiren & enchantings-a

[backwardshatnick]

⌞ 3 ᭪ right where you left me

in which・・・bloom is still at the 7/11, sitting on a curb while cross-legged in the dim light in matt's eyes.

wc: 3.1k gif made by @mattsturnioloarchive, divider credits to @kodaswrld | au masterlist here | miniseries masterlist here 🤍

“Holy shit!”

The refrigerator light slightly reflected off of Nick’s face when Matt finally stood up from the floor, an almost-empty container of ice cream in hand whilst his left cheek was covered in sticky vanilla.

“Why are you awake?” Nick whisper-shouted, too afraid to be an octave higher lest he wakes his parents up.

Matt’s eyes went blank as he proceeded to lick the leftover ice cream he had on his spoon, “I messed up.”

Nick furrowed his eyebrows, grabbing a bottle of cold water and uncapping it to take a sip, “Which part? Your sleep schedule because it’s 2 in the morning? Your hair? Your appetite? I don’t have the brains for this, you gotta be specific.”

“She’s coming. To the reunion next week.”

“Oh,” Nick’s tone now less grumbled and groggy, “her.”

The younger tugged on Nick’s shorts as he dragged a seat out with his head tilting towards the stool, motioning him to stay, “No! Hear me out. She was with me at the hotel last week.”

Nick raised an eyebrow with the corner of his mouth raising into a mischievous smirk, “That sounds hot.”

“Nick…”

He raised both his hands in surrender, allowing Matt to continue.

“She came to fix my tie. I— God, she was standing so, so close. I swore her hand cream planted itself into my dream. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. It’s the fact that she still remembered how I always wanted my knots to be like. Her fingers were just… delicate. Bloom is delicate.”

“Did you say anything to her?” the older queried, his water bottle condensing next to him on top of the kitchen island.

Matt huffed frustratedly, “I just couldn’t. I was about to but, I—”

“Chickened out,” another voice came just behind them, “Get a load of this guy.”

Nick laughed at Chris’ remark, nodding in agreement, “Well, did you even stop her from leaving?”

“Nope,” Matt answered, short and prompt, but the pain in his tone never left, “I just called the front desk the next day for a wake-up call. But she wasn’t the one who picked it up.”

“Dude, you're so far gone,” Chris added.

Matt drags a hand and weaved his hair through his fingers, exasperated as he recalled the virtual invite that he had replied just hours prior, “I just can’t bring my words when I look at her. She still looks at me like I mattered to her still. And now, with the reunion happening next week, I’m terrified to know what she thinks of me.”

Nick placed his palm on his brother’s back, rubbing it small, comforting circles as his voice softened, “So… what’s your next plan?”

“I think I’m gonna stop pretending like I’m over her,” Matt muffled through his arm, forehead resting on the cold marble of the countertop, “Because I never was. And she deserves more than a coward who runs away mid-sentence.”

“Then chase after her, you idiot,” Chris playfully shoved his brother on his tattooed arm.

“You fumble again and I’m throwing out all of your PR stuff,” the eldest joked, returning to his bedroom with the cold water bottle in hand, “Hercules is playing in my room. Care to join?”

“Me!” Chris gleefully answered, right index finger elevated to prove his point, “What about you, Matt?”

He shook his head in rejection, standing up to grab a bottle of water for himself, “Nah. I’m going to bed. See you guys tomorrow morning.”

“He’s probably gonna go run his lines with Mr. Wrinkleton. Comin' up with some mysterious excuse on why he’s the way that he is,” the youngest mumbled under his breath.

“You guys are insufferable.”

Nick rolled his eyes as he let his door open, the Disney introductory chime greeting them three, “Just say you miss her, Matt. Poor girl’s already suffered enough, you’re the insufferable one here.”

“I am not,” Matt scoffed, leaving the kitchen to finally go back to bed.

When he finally arrived, Matt immediately tossed his phone blindly on his table, the loud thud not enough to make him care as he rested his back on the plush mattress. His fingers rubbed his temples whilst the gentle whirring of the heater accompanied his thoughts, a million and one passing by similar to the never-ending snowfall which had piled up on his windows– a quarter of the glass blocked by the crystal white– when he finally stood up.

What the actual fuck am I doing, God damn it.

The lie tasted old and bitter on his tongue, familiar but painful at the same time as he looked through the list of coming alumni– some names he knew, some he barely could remember– all flashed against the minimalist interface of the calendar invite. Matt thought of what he was going to be wearing to the event and who he would text and meet first from his old lacrosse team, until the venue of the reunion itself clicked in his mind.

It did not take long for him to grab his coat and car keys, hastily typing on his phone to let the others know that he would be out “for a late night drive”. His movements were brisk as he closed the kitchen door shut, foot already pressing on the rental car’s accelerator to exit the garage.

Outside, the snow had barely settled on the sidewalks of Boston, muddy and heavy as it sloshed around the puddle from yesterday’s sleet with the chilly wind still sending the rental’s heater into defeat. The murky streets were almost empty, air heavy with stillness where the traffic lights switched between red and green for no one except Matt.

He had one hand on the wheel as he cruised along the road freely, finally slowing down when the green light turned amber which allowed him to stop and scroll on his Spotify for a decent playlist. Matt did not have a specific place in mind, simply wanting to just drive anywhere and exit the four-suddenly-dingy walls of his room until his headlights eventually swept over some familiar buildings.

It was the school gym– all concrete and brick– where the bright red shade had faded into a dusty, melancholic orange. Matt slowed down his driving without meaning to, eyes tracing the shadow of the bleachers against the wall where in his mind were full of schoolchildren with stray hairs sticking on their sweaty foreheads, accompanied with a certain someone’s laugh echoing from somewhere up in the middle rows. For some reason, he did not stop the car despite the constant flow of happy memories, unsure whether he could handle seeing the very place up close when he was this unprepared.

A few turns later, the lacrosse field appeared where the frost had painted the grass silver. Both his hands which were now on the wheel had tightened as Matt continued his drive where he finally came to a halt upon seeing the outlines of neon signs appearing through the dark.

The sign soon became clearer when Matt neared the junction of the store, the stark red, green and orange of the 7-Eleven still buzzing the same way it used to back in their high school days. The tyres crunched against the frozen asphalt when he pulled the gear to park. The outside air biting hard when he stepped out where his breath fogged up quick the moment he jogged towards the door.

The store had smelled exactly the same— faint sugar from the soda dispensers and burnt espresso dripping from the carafe all happening whilst the Slurpee machines whirred in the very corner of it. Matt made a beeline towards them, eyes already on the cherry flavour where he immediately took a cup to pour himself a half-frozen and half-syrupy treat just like always.

When he finally paid for it, the cold from both the paper cup and the dead of the night managed to sting his fingers, but he sipped his beverage anyway, the cool sensation from the tangy and sharp, but sweet cherry dancing on his tongue as Matt’s other hand fished the pocket of his jacket to look for his key. He sat in the leather seat of the rental, all by himself in the parking lot for a minute with the engine running as he watched the fog bloom against the windshield.

I’m just here to kill time.

Out here, Matt felt as if he was seventeen again before everything had gotten so tangled when they stopped talking. His return back to Massachusetts felt both somber but nostalgic, but somehow it did not feel like home to him without her in sight. He continued his drive in complete silence until he finally stopped by the chain-linked fences near the very bleachers, where he used to hear them rattling under the weight of half the school on game nights and where they would share a small kiss or two.

Considering the time, the floodlights were obviously off, but the vast silver of grass seemed to look more lustrous than it had before when Matt passed by for the first time, his old spot by the goal post now more visible than ever where a patch of worn-down grass stood slightly different from the rest. He let out a short laugh, remembering the exact smile Bloom had when she peeked her head out behind the cheer squad whenever he managed to stop a shot from the opposing team.

The car’s engine hummed low and steady while he took another sip of his cherry slush, ice crystals crunching against his teeth as it melted into a thick slurry against his throat. He leaned back further into his seat, fingers cold from the cup as he closed his eyes.

Somewhere in Matt’s mind, the noise of the overworked heater vents bled into a cheering crowd– claps, whistles and shouts coming in uninvited– where he swore he could almost hear Bloom laughing from under the bleachers, calling him ‘stinky’ because of the time she shoved the new cologne into his hands.

He was tempted for a second to get out, maybe walk around the field and even sit at the very space where they used to talk after practice when no one else was around to see them. But instead, Matt stayed in the car with the engine running, swallowing sip after sip until the Slurpee was almost gone along with the intense sentiment for her still lingering.

Bloom went to bed early tonight, her room cozy with the humidifier puffing out lavender and citrus while the radiator hummed continuously to block the constant pang of twigs against her window. The moment she arrived, her room was mostly untouched– her closet’s added collection of sweaters only stuffed a week ago by her mother when she brought in a stack of old recipe books on her computer desk– until she had woken up in the middle of the night when her phone would not stop vibrating.

“Stupid night shift alarm,” she huffed, a bit pissed that she forgot to turn it off prior to being on break.

She could not go back to sleep, tossing and turning amongst the cyan and marigold fleece as she stretched her arms out until her left knuckle had accidentally hit her bed frame and something more.

Her fingers danced around in the air, trying to feel onto what it was that she had accidentally pushed further into the empty space under her bed but to no avail. Bloom finally stood up, albeit reluctantly, and kneeled onto the carpeted floor with her phone’s torchlight shining through it. It reflected upon a grey shoe box, small but still large enough to accommodate maybe a pair of winter boots.

She did not open it immediately and simply placed it carefully on her desk with the layer of dust floating around the room.

Switching the light on, Bloom finally slid the lid off, coughing slightly at the cobwebs which had greeted her nose.

Alongside the dust, Bloom was welcomed with a multitude of stuff– all fragile and untouched– which induced a slight wistfulness within her. There still was a movie ticket stub from the night she and Stella skipped homecoming, the silver ribbon from the corsage he bought her, a Chipotle napkin with his handwriting on it from when she forgot to eat breakfast– and he drove to get her her favourite burrito bowl– and the stacks of dried-up and pressed petals held in between cards as bookmarks gifted by Matt.

She flicked through each one like she was afraid they might wither away, movement painstakingly meticulous like they were preserved in amber.

The next morning, she had gotten dressed in something a lot more casual– donning a knitted vest with a white blouse and a pair of dark denims underneath, something rare for her internship programme– and slipped a thick maroon scarf all over her chin and coat and went out. Not to meet friends just yet, she simply wanted to walk.

Taking a turn to the left, four more turns to the right and finally walking straight, she reached a slightly run-down co-op where Bloom decided to bring her family home some buttered croissants, all tucked away in her beige tote. She continued walking further, thankful that the weather was not as horrible as it was as her boots hacked away at the slush on the concrete until she finally reached a well-known building.

The school had been repainted, doors new where each creak and squeak at the hinges were now absent. But to Bloom, the renovations, the reunion posters flapping against the gates all looked the same, just blurred at the edges as she stood there by herself. She closed her eyes, breathing in the crisp, cold air as she imagined the same metal benches by the grass against the same glass windows that she once tapped on to get Matt’s attention during free period.

Bloom could almost hear the scuff of his worn-out white Air Forces rushing behind her alongside his laughter which would always echo off in the hallways, the small dent on the lockers slowly becoming more hollow from when he would always lean his head against when he was tired.

But when she finally opened her eyes to turn her back, there was absolutely nothing.

Just the cold air cutting through like the sharp aches of time.

Because she was still right where he left her.

The days had passed by quick, not realising that the reunion was just a day away.

She flopped onto her childhood bed as her cotton T-shirt gnawed away under her silk floral duvet, staring back at the glow-in-the-dark stars that Bloom had stuck on the ceiling on her very first sleepover with Stella and Musa when they were in sixth grade.

Her phone screen had suddenly lit up with an incoming FaceTime from Stella, prompting her to hit accept and welcome her with a smile.

“Okay, so,” Stella’s voice immediately coming in, her chaotic temperament visible through the screen as she held up two dresses to the camera, “Which one screams ‘high school reunion but make it I-glowed-up-and-got-myself-a-cute-boyfriend?”

Bloom pressed her cheek deeper into her pillow as she laughed, “A hundred percent the orange one. Makes the brown in your eyes pop out more.”

“Ugh, you so get me.”

There was a slight pause after Stella said it, followed by the sound of hangers clattering in the background and when she finally came back on the screen, she continued, “You know I can’t show up looking like a crusty booger when stupid Chuck Coleman’s gonna be there! Remember how he used to say I’d peak in high school?”

“Then you should peak right in front of him,” Bloom nodded, her hair wrapped in the towel going slightly wonky.

“Exactly,” her best friend replied, finally flopping on her own bed too as the screen shook slightly before it steadied again, “Well, what’re you wearing to the reunion, Miss Mysterious? You better not pull the same disappearing act like you did at prom night.”

“I didn’t disappear—”

“You literally vanished without saying goodbye to either of us, Bloom.”

The stress on her name snapped her out of her own twisted reality, sighing as Bloom tried to softened her voice, “Okay, fair. But I won’t ghost this time, promise.”

Stella’s brows furrowed lightly on-screen with her own towel slipping slightly to unravel her blonde hair, “Wait. Are you… okay?”

“Yeah,” Bloom replied way too quickly, “I mean, kind of. I don’t know, maybe just tired.”

She was returned with a look from Stella, the wordlessness but the slight tilt of her head screaming ‘nice try’.

“Is it because of Matt?”

Bloom blinked at the screen as she exhaled, “Fuck, I can’t believe I haven’t told you this.”

“Told me what exactly?” Stella asked, her body now standing up as her curiosity rose.

“I saw him, like literally just a week ago.”

Stella’s eyes widened into saucers, “What the hell happened? You threw a towel to his face? Did you kiss him? Tell me everything!”

“I was just on my housekeeping shift,” Bloom murmured, “But I got sent to his room to fix his tie and he just wanted to… talk and I was too cocky that I just shut him out. It didn’t help when I saw that he still had our photo booth strip as his bookmark. And dialled the front desk for a wake-up call.”

“Do you still… I don’t know, love him?”

Bloom turned her head to the side, too scared to meet her friend’s stare even through the phone, “I just don’t know. I think my heart’s still in senior year, like there’s this part of me that still keeps the bookmarks he’s made for me. That still remembers his favourite Slurpee flavour and the freckle on the right side of his jaw.”

“You know that you don’t have to pretend with me,” Stella’s voice chimed in, now a lot warmer and quieter. More comforting.

Bloom’s lips trembled as her vision became watery, “I just hate that I still care. But I pretended that I was so strong when I really am not.”

“What if I go and he doesn’t remember the things I loved doing? Maybe I’m just the same seventeen year-old and he’s already twenty-two and over it? Hell, he’s even more successful than I am. I’m just scared.”

“You won’t be alone in that gym,” Stella said gently, “I’ll be there. So will Brandon, Musa, Flora and some others from our homeroom. And if you see me from across the gym waving my arm off like a fucking idiot, just know that it’s because we’re all here for you.”

Bloom swallowed the lump in her throat as Stella continued talking, “Don’t hate that you still care about him. He was important to you. And apparently he still is. So, go and wear that skirt that you won’t shut up about. The one you bought specifically for your new leather belt. You looked hot in the story you posted last month.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Stella smirked, “Now go get some rest and drink some water 'cause I’d hate to see my bestie tired and dehydrated tomorrow night.”

a/n: holy moly this was tooooo long of a boring chapter.... but hey at least they're gonna be meeting in the next one. right? right fellas??? right... i'll see myself out..... 🤸‍♀️🕳️

ꫂ❁ @oopsiedaisydeer @bbgirlmatt @courta13 @mattspillowprincess @loverboysturn @calzerm @hearts4sturn @mattsdivaa @httpssturns

[backwardshatnick]

Credit: @vxnitra

[backwardshatnick]

Day 32

Spring vibes Miffy

[backwardshatnick]

[backwardshatnick]

GRACIE ABRAMS I Told You Things (Outside Lands 2025)

[backwardshatnick]

https://www.tumblr.com/backwardshatnick/788820983788240896

constantly thinking about this btw 💓💞💗💖💘

hihihihi thank youuuuu 😽 i hope to write smth that long again but alas!

[backwardshatnick]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. if you break the chain nothing happens, but its sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out🤍🪽🧸🦌

hiiii ceecee 🤍😊 thank you so, so much!! you have such a kind soul aaaahhhh

[backwardshatnick]

how did cn!reader (psst also does she have a nickname?) rediscover/find chris again after those years? or had she been keeping track of him all that time? sorry if this is worded weirdly i just realised we don't know much of their lore !! -🫧

she finally has a nickname yippie!!! you can find it here :)

and don't worry, i totally get your question because i haven't been diving into it as much... but without spoiling anything, she only found chris because of his radio station gig because they go to the same university! she moved out after a few years of living next door to his family, then returned back to boston for uni, but was never able to keep tabs on him while separated because they were not close enough back then to exchange phone numbers/socials.

i've got to finish just this one blurb for it all to make sense but this is what i could give for now 🙂‍↕️

[backwardshatnick]

in which ・・・she is given a new nickname.

The main entrance to the campus sports hall was wet, the black nylon doormat darkening with every sole passing through it as bits of dried leaves continued to pile up in front of the doors.

It was the weird in-between time of the year, just a few days into February where the air felt too cold to leave the house in just a thin sweater, yet too warm to be able to see your own breath in the air. Slush was melting beneath the drainage while the air kept biting at people’s cheeks, however the Christmas and New Years decorations had finally said their goodbyes, as the lights which used to brighten the students’ dreary walk back home were replaced with old plain, black wires.

Chris had his hood up while leaning against the wall where the vending machines stood by, the clanking of extra change filling his ear drums due to its old age. He continued to scroll through his script for tomorrow night’s radio show, proofreading what he had and editing it at the same time as he waited for Sage to finish her basketball practice, them agreeing to meet each other once her training ended.

From afar, he could hear the constant squeaking of shoes and the dribbling sound of the rubber basketball, just seconds before the occasional echo of the coach’s whistle shrilling through the open cracks of the door.

Halfway through skimming his old song requests to look for inspiration, a certain somebody had barrelled out of the building like a storm– winded, flushed and wild-eyed with her feet not knowing how to stop. She brushed right past him, anchoring her ankle slightly to the right to prevent a concussion where her head would risk getting into impact with the battered vending machine and Chris’s left rib.

“Woah,” Chris said, caught off guard but was still able to give her a smile anyway, “Careful there, Skip. The hallway’s not a racetrack.”

Skip.

The nickname sounding playful and easy, teasing against his tongue like it had been waiting to call her something as it spilled easily from his mouth.

She blinked, brushing her hair away from her temple before staring at her own shoes, the laces slightly undone. Her face grew warmer when she noticed who he was as she licked her chapped lips to say something, but instead returned his words with the faintest, stunned smile. Before she could say anything else, she ran off once more, Chris watching her disappear down the steps, her wired earbuds dangling from her neck trailing behind her indigo track gear, hair in contrast with the material of the windbreaker where it had gotten disheveled with her scrunchie nowhere to be found.

“Sorry!” she shouted out, “I really gotta go!”

Her breath cut through her chest, sharp, by the time she was out the door, finally crouching down to fix her shoelaces where her friends had waited, all bundled up in their light puffer jackets and woven scarves, sharing a cheeky laugh among themselves.

Willow– her curly-haired brunette friend– laughed, wanting to tease, “Took you long enough. Had to take a big fat dump back there, Violet?”

Violet shook her head hastily, pulse still bulging through her neck, “Absolutely not! Just— someone being in the way.”

They loop their arms through hers with Heather being on Violet’s left, tugging her toward the path as she sneaked one last glance over her shoulder. The door to the sports hall had already shut with Chris’ silhouette slowly ceasing to the size of a small seed, his knees bent down as he went to pick something off the ground.

A baby blue hair tie, fabric thick as he brushed his thumb over the velvet— plush and luxurious but still soft to the touch.

Just as he was observing it– twirling the small loop of fabric around his finger– Sage finally walked out of the hall, the doors swinging behind her furiously as she balanced her backpack on one shoulder while the other still had a towel slung over it.

"Hey, Chris!" she greeted before nodding at his hand, "What d'you got there?"

Chris gave her a shrug, nonchalant but quietly answered, "Need this to tie your hair?"

"You can hang onto it," Sage replied as she pointed to the yellow hair tie she had on her wrist, "Got mine right here."

"Finders keepers, losers weepers then."

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive ♡ divider by @uzmacchiato ♡

a/n: holy CRAP we finally know her name,,,,, sorry it took me so long to give her a nickname! i wanted it to be in the form of a short blurb instead of moodboards, etc. hope you enjoyed :)

p.s.: hope this isn’t cheesy too because i literally had violet, bluebell & iris saved as nicknames because her style moodboard was filled with the colour blue hehe

for more of this pair, masterlist here

📻 @oopsiedaisydeer @izzylovesmatt @mattspillowprincess @courta13 @loverboysturn @mattsdivaa @httpssturns

[backwardshatnick]

everybody here wants you

contains : actress!reader, established ex relationship, angst, jealousy, avoidance, tension, kissing, fluff, mild language

♬ everybody here wants you by jeff buckley

as the door to the limo opens, a flurry of camera flashes nearly blinds you. you squint, shielding your eyes with your hand. you were about to make your entrance for a movie premiere. a movie that you had starred in. your nerves were threatening to catch up to you, but you still managed to make a graceful debut on the red carpet with your heart racing.

you offer a bright smile for the cameras and proceeded to go on like you’d done it a million times before. in reality, it was the first time that you’d ever walked the red carpet.

despite your other co-stars following just a few paces behind you, the cameras were still mainly focused on you.

matt observed everything from afar. it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you were the main attraction. after all, you were the star of an upcoming film. everyone has been raving about it, unable to contain their excitement for it to finally be released. this, alongside the constant movie promos being put out, garnered a lot of attention for you.

in addition to posing for the cameras, you also answered questions from shouting reporters with microphones, even when said questions weren’t appropriate at times. your responses simply radiated elegance with your presence, and your smile didn’t waver once.

matt’s jaw ticked at the sight. he didn’t want you to smile like that for these people; they didn’t deserve it. even though you two had split up months ago, he wanted to tell everyone to back off. tell them that you were his.

it was hopeless. you were a thing of wonder; meanwhile, he was a stranger here. but he reminded himself that one of the only times that you were free was when the two of you were together. it was when you could truly be yourself. so, chances were that you also felt what he was feeling—just in a different way.

he began wonder why he had even come in the first place.

it may have seemed like he was only here because he wasn’t over you—and maybe that was the truth. either way, the weight of the situation was enhancing his emotions. because the way everybody here thought they needed you? it made him feel irrationally annoyed. all he could do was watch.

you were completely unaware of his presence. he didn’t give you a heads up about it, not a text, or anything at all. regardless, he felt like he was meant to be here—besides the fact that he wasn’t really the type to willingly put himself in crowds like these.

as you scan the sea of people, your eyes widen as they catch matt’s piercing into yours. time slows down, and the moment seems like it lasts longer than it actually does, causing it to feel more intimate than the action itself is made out to be. it was almost like through this single exchange, you could feel all of his love through the downcast gaze of his blue eyes.

you don’t look away until a reporter yells in your direction, causing you to break out of the trance. matt couldn’t help but grin, feeling a sense of pride in the affection that you both still held. even after all those months apart, your love for one another could still ring true through one glance.

that was when he realized the real reason he was here: he was waiting. waiting so that he could show you just how your love would blow everything else away.

when you found that you were done for the night, you excused yourself to find the restroom instead of leaving right away.

while you were set out on the mission, you happened to spot the same unkempt dark hair you’d seen earlier. this time he wasn’t looking straight into your soul, so his demeanor was relatively different. he lazily stood against the wall, his focus on his phone screen in hand. he hadn’t seemed to notice you yet. right when you consider turning back, his head whips up before you can do anything about it. his eyes narrow at you before tucking his phone into his pocket.

well, it’s too late to go back now.

maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise that you had run into matt. it was almost like he had known that you’d be on your way.

for a moment, neither of you said anything, only staring at each other like the silence could speak louder than words. and this time, it was lasting for much longer than before.

with a hand raking through his hair, matt eventually puts an end to it. “you’ve really got them all under your spell,” he states matter-of-factly, his tone carrying a sharp edge to it. it was hardly there, but you caught it.

“i wouldn’t say that,” you respond with a shrug.

following your words, he inches closer, causing your breath to hitch—there was barely any distance between you now. he continues to stare at you, like he’s trying to figure you out. you can’t help but feel nervous under his gaze. 

he tilts his head to the side. “yeah? well, it’s true. everybody here wants you. everybody here thinks they need you. it’s funny, ‘cause i’m the only one who fucking has you.”

your eyebrows furrow at his claim. “matt, what’s gotten into you? you know we broke up a while ago. wait, oh my god, are you… jealous?” you lips curl into a knowing smirk. 

his eyes darkened, but he continued to keep his gaze on you.

“you know what, sweetheart? maybe i am. but i don’t care. i’ve been waiting to finally tell you that we need to be together. you know that we’re right for each other.”

it was as if the scent of coffee and lilac on you were blending together to ignite a flame in him, which in turn resulted in him saying all of these things. things that in any other situation, he wouldn’t have found himself saying.

you cross your arms before promptly asking, “how do you know that that we’re right for each other?”

“why don’t you let me show you?” he whispered as his hands crept up on your waist.

you shudder under his touch, but you don’t remove his hands. instead you allow them to rest on your hips. but in the back of your mind, you knew that he shouldn’t be doing this. in fact, he shouldn’t be here at all.

“what if someone sees? you know the risk we would be taking. it’ll be all over the internet.”

matt almost scoffed. “so? you’re mine, anyways. they should know.”

his words only made you want this more than you already did. before you knew it, your mouth found its rightful place on his, and your hands were at the nape of his neck. matt’s eyebrows raised, having not anticipated this to happen so soon, but he quickly began to kiss you back, the grip on your waist now firmer than it had been before. he pulled you closer, as if he was afraid that you’d somehow slip away from him.

you pulled back for the first time to take a breath of air before sighing out. it had only been a couple months since you’d last kissed him, but it felt like it had been ages. years, even. but now that you had, you couldn’t just find it in you to walk away. 

however, this still didn’t erase your doubts. “you remember that our relationship crumbled for a reason, right? we fought, matt. there were tears. what if it happens again?”

“i get what you’re concerned about, but we can put all of that behind us, okay? there’s nothing in our way.”

“but there is. we fought because we couldn’t agree on whether to keep our relationship private. i mean, you know that we need to talk about that.”

matt sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. “i’m only here for this moment. i don’t care about anyone else. so can you just stop bringing up what others will think?” he leaned in to kiss you again, but you turned your head away from him.

“we have to be reasonable about this.”

“look, we can talk about this later. i just—” he broke off. his patience was beginning to run thin. “don’t you see?” he repeated, “don’t you see the effect you have on me?”

you could tell he was trying to avoid discussing the problem. you would’ve pointed that out, if not for the fact that you didn’t know what he was talking about right now. you hesitantly look back at him.

“what effect?”

matt took a deep breath in, as if he was preparing himself for what he was about to say. you focused on him intently, trying to convey that you were listening.

“you’ve somehow engrained yourself into my mind, body, and heart—and i feel guilty that i even let go of you in the first place. i realized that there’s no one for me but you. i know, you have a lot of other options who look good from a distance, but i’m telling you that none of them could ever compare to the connection we had—have. i’m the one for you.”

your eyes softened at his words. on one hand, his confession was sweet. it was true that others were trying to pursue you. and yet, you didn’t really have much interest in them. now you realize that it was because your heart was still with matt.

on the other hand, why couldn’t this have been said before? why did he have to wait to tell you this?

“why now?” you ask, your words vague at first. “why did you wait until now? why couldn’t you tell me before?” there was a hint of hurt in your voice, but you didn’t back down.

“because i realized too late. i didn’t know what the right time was to talk to you either, since you’re busy with your whole acting thing. i’m so proud of you, by the way,” he smiled, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. you try to fight the tug of your lips going upward, but you can feel your heart race upon hearing his words. “thanks.”

he continued on with his explanation. “i wasn’t even sure why i came, but after our eyes locked, it all became clear to me.”

“okay, so you’re saying that you’re willing to give us another chance. but i don’t know how to feel about our relationship being public. it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just… we have to think about the consequences. how do you know that people will be fine with it? what if it’s a bad idea?”

“our love can rise above it. i promise that we won’t fall from something like that again, even if we failed in the past. in fact, our love can rise just like embers. even when it’s fading, it can reignite and become stronger. you just have to trust me, okay?” 

looking into his eyes, you could tell that he really did mean what he was saying. it made it hard for you to deny him. how could you, when he was practically begging?

you give in to his words, sighing. “okay. i trust you.”

a grin immediately forms on his face. “you do?”

“yeah, i do. now can you kiss me again before i change my mind?”

there’s a glint in his eyes as he responds, “gladly.”

his lips find yours again, and this time, the kiss isn’t desperate like before. it was tender, and full of promise—like it was sealing everything that matt had told you. maybe he was right. maybe, just maybe, together your love could overcome anything.

you pull back a bit too soon, as you were really feeling the ache in your heels. matt’s eyebrows furrow, noticing you had winced. his concern was evident as he asked, “is something wrong?”

“yeah—my feet just hurt,” you chuckle, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “been wearing them for hours. it’s okay, though.”

matt looks at you in confusion. “no, it’s not okay.” he paused for a moment in thought. you could see the idea pop up in his head, and he smirks. “okay, i got it.”

he slipped his feet out of his airforces, and said, “take off your heels.”

you barely even process his request, before looking at him in shock. “what!? no way, matt. you are not, i repeat, not wearing my heels.”

“oh, sweetheart. yes i am. take them off, please.”

you stand your ground, figuratively and literally, refusing to budge. 

that’s when he bends down to take them off for you.

you gasp. “matt!” but it was no use. he was switching his sneakers for your heels.

you sigh in relief of the immediate comfort of his airforces, before remembering what the cost of wearing them was. “matt, why on earth would you do that?”

“because i wanted to. is there a problem?”

“yes, matt, there is. do they even fit you?” you glance down at them. it didn’t look comfortable at all, but he was making it seem like he didn’t mind it at all.

“um, no. but who cares?”

“how are you going to give them back to me when i get back to the limo? people are definitely gonna see this when we step outside.”

“let them,” he shrugged. “i already told you i don’t care about them. i only care about you, baby. that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you.

you genuinely couldn’t believe him. he was doing all of this just to prove to you how much you mean to him. “you’re an idiot.”

“i’m your idiot,” he grinned.

you roll your eyes, before looking up at him. he was much taller with your heels on. “bend down a little.”

“hm?”

you took a hold of his jaw, before pulling him down to your level. you kissed him like it was your way of telling him that you trusted him. there was a possibility that it wouldn’t work out, but for some reason, something told you that it just might.

word count : 2.3k

nova’s notes : i love jeff buckley so much :< i’ve been meaning to watch the documentary but i feel like im gonna cry… also this song is one of my favs so i hope u guys liked this !!! i lowkey don’t but it took a long time to write </3

🏷️ : @naomifluer @oopsiedaisydeer @stevielovesmatt @spookysturnz @thesecretofceleste @charmedntruer @ithinkishould @angelxsturns @sturnspup