#i have no clue what this is from but i thought it was funny

[teomuchstuff]

This is lowkey why I hated Fiyero/elphaba relationship.

And let me say this before I start: my opinion is based completely and only in the movie, I haven't read the books neither seem the musical stage, so I have no clue of what happens in neither of them. Also I'm not Ariana fan, not that I dislike her, she's just a artist that I kinda know her work.

That being said, let's go for what I meant.

See, what is this feeling is such a materpiece act, all the nuances of melody of the song, the choice of words, sequence of scenes... it's purely sentimental, so well elaborated, it's so clear that's it's two woman in love, but they don't want to name it that way, so they decide to name as loath. It's obvious, everyone that watch that scene, even if the homophobes like these above try to deny, they know the truth and that's why the make these shit straight versions, so they can please themselves without admitting the obvious sexual tension between Glinda and Elphaba. And this is where I get to my hate against Fiyero/Elphaba ship, cause the scene they supposedly fell in love is SO-DAMN-BORING!!! Do you see any straight people reproducing that scene? NO!! CAUSE THERE'S NO TENSION, NO DEVOLOPMENT, IT'S THROWN OUT OF NOWHERE LIKE MOST STRAIGHT COUPLES ARE!!!

I'm no the type "I hate all straight couples" at all, two of the ships I love the most in medias are straight and I'd fight all the way to hell to defend them from haters. And it's not a hate directed to Fiyero as well, I liked him and even liked him with Glinda as this kind of funny couple that one is really a opposite sex version of the other, I'm a Gelphie shipper, but I truly thought they were cool together, but Fiyero and Elphaba?one of the worst couples I've ever seen hall of boredom check.

And what is all my rambling about? Just to show how even though there're two completely straight couple in the movie (like them or not), people still choose the song about two women profecing thier eternal "loath" to each other to make a straight version and admit that it's the perfect enemies to lovers song.

(Ps: Haven't seen the video of the original post, so this is not a hate post directed to them since I dont know they're intentions in making such version. This is just one of my rambles about my general discontentment with straight couples and my hate for the hypocrisy of homophobes)

Heteronormativity is a disease btw

[cherryswisherz]

KARMIC BALANCE ✷ CHAPTER III

✷WARNINGS cursing, pining??? idk. mention of the nd game and h*annah h*dalgo

✷NIYAH SPEAKS aye we back! this one is just paiges pob

✦✦✦✦

SENIOR YEAR

We lose to Notre Dame every year. 

Every. Fucking. Year. 

And now that I’m home in Storrs, looking at everyone as they try to mask their disappointment, I feel the loss even more. 

Which is why I’m walking around in the middle of night, the December air biting into my skin. I can’t stop thinking about everything that went wrong. Why everything went wrong. 

I honestly have no fucking clue why, but I know what went wrong. Everyone does. Our defense was lousy, our shots were horrible, we got too tired. I could go on, but that won’t fix anything. 

I find myself at Xavi and Janes house before I realize it. I tell myself that it’s because Yanna’s there, and not because of the wisdom that Xavia seems to have about every aspect of life. 

When Xavia opens the door wearing a smile and a moo moo, I ignore that bubly feeling in my chest and ask to come in. 

Once inside, I see her apartment is almost completely dark. The big lights are off, the living room being lit only by a candle and two lamps in opposite corners. 

“So, what’s up P?” Xavi asks, running her hands down the silk of her moo moo. “It’s almost midnight and you’re usually dead to the world by 9.”

Knowing that Xavia knows my bedtime makes me smile for reasons I don’t want to admit. 

When I first met her, Xavia was like a mystery. She was funny and smart and absolutely fucking beautiful. She’d apologized for making a false assumption about me. It was the first and only time anyone had ever done that and I never forgot it. 

When she and Jane started coming around more, I forced myself to swallow the want I had to learn more about her, to learn from her because I knew that if I’d gotten to the root of who she was, I’d be even more enthralled than I already was at that point. 

Eventually my heart stopped beating so fast around her. I’d stopped avoiding being within 3 feet of her and trained myself to treat her like I’d treated all my other friends. 

Because that’s what she is. My friend. 

It didn’t matter that her not worshipping ground I walked on excited me. It didn’t matter that almost every conversation we had alone rested in the back of my mind at all times. 

Xavia is my friend and that’s all she’d ever be. 

“Yeah I know. I just can’t get the ND game outta my head and I thought Yanna would be here to talk to.”

I’m lying and I know it. Whether Yanna was here or not, I would have found a way to talk to Xavi. I always did. Not because I wanted to be around her, but because she always had the answer to whatever problem that I have. Anyone would do the same if they’d stopped to pay attention when she was trying to get a word in. 

“Oh, yeah, she’s not here.” Xavi pointed a thumb to the back of her house, where Her and Jane’d bedroom’s were. Her locs swayed with the turn of her head. “Her and Jane went to Urgent Care cause she hit her shoulder on the wall and-” She waves her hands anxiously, as if she doesn’t feel like explaining a complex situation. “It was a whole thing. I’m sure you’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

I know I should be worried about my teammate who can’t seem to stay healthy. And I am. I make a mental note to check in on Yanna at some point, but right now, I’m thinking of a way I can stay and talk to Xavi without making it a thing.

“Oh…” is what I came up with. 

“You can talk to me?” Thank. God. “ If you want.”

Of course I fucking want. It’s all I’ve done for the past three years. 

I want to be a better person. 

I want to be 19 again and do everything differently. 

I want to win the championship this year. 

But all those wants are null and void for the biggest want of all. 

I want to get drafted to the WNBA.

And I’ve made  too many shitty decisions to get there to just throw it all away. So what if I’m miserable?

“Uh, yeah. That’s cool.” I play off my desperation and take a seat on her orange bean bag. 

Xavi plops down on the couch in front of me, crossing her legs and folding her hands. All her attention is on me and a part of me feels like I don’t deserve the attention of this amazing woman. But a bigger part is screaming that this is how it should be. 

Me, admiring every part of her, and her, willing and ready for anything I give her. 

Of course, in this situation all she wants is to know what’s on my mind, but I would give her whatever else she could think up. 

“So whatcha thinkin ‘bout?”  She asks sweetly. 

Her voice isn’t obnoxiously high. It’s kinda deep and mellow, just like she is.

“Um… I just can’t get over everything.” I shake my head and look at my hands. Hands that are supposed to get me everywhere I want in life.  “Like, I get why we lost. What we did wrong on the basketball front. But we were off the other day. We’d run those plays over and over again in practice. Studied film. We should have been prepared, but we were just off.  Like no matter how hard we tried, we just couldn’t get there.”

Xavia nods her head like she understands everything I’m saying. 

“Like everything was against you guys?” she questions. 

“No. I don’t think that anything was unfair. I think that our all just wasn’t enough.”

“Well, I know you can’t speak for anyone else, and I’d never ask you to. But why do you think you were off that night?”

She sounds like a therapist. The kind that isn’t just trying to fix you, but trying to understand you. The kind that hangs on to every word, but not to hold it against you.

“I don’t know. I just kept getting madder and madder and it threw me off. I did everything I was supposed to do.”

She looks confused now. “What do you mean ‘supposed to do’?”

“Like everything I thought was right. Everything I've always done.”

“Maybe that’s the issue.” 

Now I’m confused. 

“What?”

Following my routine has taken me and my team to the Final Four, and for Xavi to tell me it’s wrong stings a little. 

“Maybe doing everything you’ve always done isn’t the answer. Paige, you’re a somewhat mature adult. Do you honestly think you’re right all the time?”

What does she mean ‘somewhat’ mature? 

“...No?”

“Right.” Xavi sounds so sure of herself, leaning in and starting to talk with her hands like she does when she’s talking about her coursework or something equally as interesting to her. “It’s impossible to be right in every situation because every situation is different. When you throughout your daily life, do you treat every person the same? Do you go into every conversation with the same mindset, expecting the same outcome?”

I mean most people are the same, so what else am I supposed to do?

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Well that’s no bueno, babe.” She huffs out, pointing at me. Then, she entrances me again with her hands as she speaks. “ Every human is different. They have different pasts, and different views. Even if the difference between one person and another is miniscule, it’s there. And that difference is why it’s so important that we don’t generalize people.”

I know she’s stopped talking but I’m so caught up in her voice, and her hands and her face, and her to contribute to the conversation.

“Are you understanding?” She asks, seemingly genuinely concern with whether I’m comprehending what she’s telling me. 

And the answer is no, I’m not understanding. Whether there’s a differenc eor not, each person want the same thing and should be dealt with the same, based on what they want. 

This is the code fucking live by,a nd she’s sitting her debunking it in the most intellectual, attractive way possible.

“Not really.”

“Okay so like…” She sighs, pauses to think and then continues. “Do you remember when we first met? When I assumed you were a whore like alot of college athletes are?”

The reminder of our first interaction brings a calmness to me. I remember everything abou that night in her dorm. She wore sweats with no bra, and I’m pretty sure she was stoned.

“Yeah of course. You apologized to me that night and it kinda weirded me out.”

“Right.” Xavia snapped her fingers, bringing me out of my memory. “I apologized to you, because I generalized you and made an assumption based on one aspect of your identity. And I think it weirded you out because you’d generalized every person who’d made an assumption about you. I guess it’s rare that people apologize after being an asshole to you.”

It was rare. So rare that she’s the only person who’d ever done it.

“Okay…”

“So. Incourpurating that into basketball. Every team is different.”

I nod my head to let her know I was following. “Of course.”

“Okay and so every player on every team is different too.”

She lost me.

“No.” Now I’m the one leaning forward, talking with my hands. “They all move as a team. Yes, they have differences, but they’re all working together.”

“I see it differently.” She shrugs like she’s the master of basketball and done copious amounts of research on the psyche of an athlet.  “I feel like every player on that court moves individually. Do they play for the same team, and have the same goal? Of course. But they’re all different. They all have different thoughts and concerns and ideas. You said that girl Hannah was the head of the snake, but I think you should see it differently.”

“How so?”

“Instead of thinking of a team as one snake, think of it like… Like cheetahs!”

“Cheetahs?”

“Cheetahs.” She finalizes. “Once the mama cheetah gives birth, she trains her cubs to survive in any situation. To adapt to any surroundings. She teaches her cubs how to kill different animals, to hide, all that. Eventually, the cubs form a sibling group and go out together to execute everything their mother has taught them. Are you getting the analogy?”

When she’s explaining it in laymans terms, of course I get it. She could probably explain thermodynamics to me and I’d understand it fully. Xavia just has a way of making everything in life seem so simple. It’s wonderful, really.

“Yeah. Like the coach is the mother, the players are the cubs.”

“Right. But each cub is different. There’s a more dominant one, there’s submissives and then theirs the runts. Each one has to edit their mothers lessons to make it useful to them individually. Does that make sense?”

I’ve decided that she’s blown my mind enough for tonight, once again by being right about everything. So I just chuckle and dismiss the topic.

“How do you come up with this shit, Xavi?”

She laughs like a seductress and leans back on the couch, “I dunno. I read alot.”

You read alot? Reading alot has given you the ability to break down a sport like you’ve played it your whole life?

“Well thank you for sharing your knowledge with my dumbass, oh wise one.”

I stand up from the beanbag and make my way to the door, ready to take my exit.

“I’m not wise, I just see from a different point of view than you. Sometimes you gotta get outta your head.”

“I guess.” I sigh, then open my arms. “Thanks, Xavi.” 

She steps into me, her head just below my chest and wraps her arms around me. Her body is warm, but the silk she’s wearing cold. She doesn’t hug me tight or aggressively. Just stands there with her arms around my waist. 

It feels terrifyingly comfortable. 

“Anytime P.” she mutters, pulling away and ushering me out of her home. 

The whole walk back, my mind is on her and everything she said. 

How is it that this girl that is the exact opposite of everything I’m looking for, seems to be everything I need?

✷TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersp @paxaz535 @thelightknight21 @paxaz535

[enemiestolovershoe]

jealous matt!bsf x reader please 🤭

From Batter to Better

Matt Sturniolo x bsf!reader

Summary: While baking with the triplets, Y/N’s text sparks Matt’s jealousy, leading to heartfelt confessions

Words: 3,1k

Warnings: Jealousy, quick argument, kissing, use of yn, not proofread

As you approached the front door, you barely had time to knock before the door swung open, revealing a grinning Nick.

"Finally! You’re here," Nick exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Did I keep you waiting that long?" you teased, hugging him back.

"Only our entire lives," Chris chimed in dramatically, appearing behind Nick. He gave you a quick hug and then stepped aside to let you in.

"Hey, Matt’s in the kitchen trying to act like he doesn’t care that you’re here," Nick added with a smirk.

You laughed, shaking your head as you stepped inside. "Classic Matt."

As if on cue, Matt emerged from the kitchen, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "Hey," he said, his voice soft but his eyes bright as they met yours.

"Hey, Matt," you replied, walking over to give him a hug. He held on just a second longer than the others had, but it wasn’t unusual. Matt had always been a little more reserved, a little more subtle.

"So, what’s this top-secret plan you guys have dragged me here for?" you asked as the four of you gathered in the living room.

Chris clapped his hands together, practically bouncing in excitement. "Okay, so here’s the deal. We’re filming a baking contest today. Each of us is going to bake something different, and then we’ll judge whose creation is the best!"

Your eyebrows shot up in amusement. "And you thought I would be the perfect person for this? Have you guys forgotten how terrible I am at baking?"

"That’s exactly why we invited you," Nick said with a laugh. "It’s all part of the chaos."

"Besides," Chris added, "if you don’t win, at least you’ll make Matt feel better about himself."

Matt rolled his eyes but didn’t bother hiding his smirk. "Very funny, Chris."

You grinned, nudging Matt lightly. "Don’t worry, Matt. I’m sure you’ll do better than me. Or maybe not. Who knows?"

He gave you a lopsided smile. "Guess we’ll find out."

The four of you moved to the kitchen, where an array of ingredients and baking tools had been laid out. As you looked over the supplies, Chris leaned over your shoulder.

"So, any idea what you’re making?" he asked.

"Not a clue," you admitted. "What about you?"

"Cookies," Chris said confidently. "Simple and foolproof. Unlike Nick’s plan to make a soufflé."

Nick shot Chris a glare. "I can pull off a soufflé, thank you very much."

"And what about you, Matt?" you asked, turning to him.

"I’m making a cake," he said, his voice steady but his eyes flickering toward you. "Something classic."

You smiled. "Sounds like a safe bet."

Matt shrugged, a small grin tugging at his lips. "We’ll see."

As the four of you started to gather your ingredients, Matt subtly moved closer to you, watching as you fumbled with a bag of flour.

"Need help?" he asked, his tone casual but his gaze lingering on you.

"I think I’ve got it," you said, though you appreciated the offer.

He nodded, but he didn’t step away, staying close as if to make sure you really didn’t need help. Chris, meanwhile, noticed and smirked knowingly but said nothing—for now.

The chatter in the kitchen was light and playful as you all prepared for the challenge. Every so often, you caught Matt watching you, his expression soft but unreadable. It wasn’t unusual for him to be attentive, but today there was something different—something almost protective—in the way he stayed near you.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed how your heart skipped a beat every time he did.

The kitchen was alive with activity as the four of you started your baking projects. Nick was focused on his soufflé, brows furrowed in intense concentration. Chris had already managed to spill flour on himself while preparing cookie dough, laughing it off like it was all part of his plan. You had settled on brownies—an easy choice, or so you thought—and Matt was diligently mixing cake batter, stealing glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Nick, why are you acting like you’re auditioning for MasterChef?” Chris teased as he shaped his cookies.

“Because I take baking seriously,” Nick replied, not even looking up. “Unlike you, who’s probably just going to eat half the dough before it even gets in the oven.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Chris shot back, popping a chunk of raw cookie dough into his mouth.

You laughed as you tried to mix your brownie batter, though it wasn’t going as smoothly as you’d hoped. “Okay, how do you stop flour from going everywhere? I feel like I’m in the middle of a snowstorm here.”

Matt, who was working at the counter next to you, smirked. “You could try mixing slower. Or, you know, not being you.”

You gasped dramatically, swiping a bit of flour onto your fingers and flicking it at him. “Rude!”

He chuckled, brushing the flour off his shirt. “I’m just saying, maybe baking isn’t your calling.”

“I’ll have you know my brownies are going to be amazing,” you retorted, though your batter was still lumpy.

Chris looked over and snorted. “Amazing? That batter looks like it’s seen some things.”

“Hey!” you protested, laughing despite yourself. “I don’t see you winning any awards over there, Mr. Flour Explosion.”

Nick shook his head. “This is why I invited you. You bring the chaos we need for good content.”

“Happy to help,” you said with a mock bow.

As the contest progressed, the kitchen grew even messier. Chris’s cookies were in the oven, and Nick’s soufflé looked surprisingly impressive as it rose. Matt’s cake batter was poured neatly into its pan, and you finally managed to get your brownies into the oven after a series of mishaps.

“Alright, ten minutes left,” Nick announced. “How’s everyone feeling?”

“Confident,” Chris said smugly, though one of his cookies had mysteriously disappeared.

“Stressed,” you admitted. “I think my brownies are plotting against me.”

Matt glanced at you, his lips twitching into a smile. “I think you’re doing fine. For a beginner.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes.

He leaned slightly closer, his voice lower. “I’m just saying, if you need help tasting them later, I’m your guy.”

Your cheeks warmed at the playful tone in his voice, but before you could respond, Chris interrupted.

“Matt, stop flirting and focus on your cake. You’re not slick.”

“Yeah,” Nick added, grinning. “At least wait until after you lose to make a move.”

Matt shot them a glare, but you could see the faint blush creeping up his neck. “I’m not flirting. I’m just being supportive.”

“Sure you are,” Chris said with a wink.

The timer eventually went off, and you all gathered around the finished products to taste-test. Nick’s soufflé was surprisingly decent, though it deflated slightly when he cut into it. Chris’s cookies were classic, though he had clearly eaten more than a few. Matt’s cake was perfectly moist and flavorful, much to his brothers’ chagrin, and your brownies—while a little uneven—were rich and fudgy.

“Alright, verdict time,” Nick said, crossing his arms. “Who’s the winner?”

“Me, obviously,” Chris declared, holding up one of his cookies.

“No way,” Nick argued. “My soufflé was elegant and sophisticated.”

Matt looked at you, his smile soft. “I think it’s between us.”

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed on the counter. You picked it up absentmindedly, but the name on the screen made you pause. It was a text from the guy you had gone on a date with a few weeks ago.

Hey, had a great time last time. Are you free for another date this week?

You frowned slightly, not really feeling it, but before you could type out a polite "no," Matt leaned over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” he asked, his tone casual but his jaw tightening when he saw the message.

You quickly locked your phone, but it was too late. His expression darkened, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something sharp and tense.

Nick and Chris were too busy arguing about their desserts to notice, but Matt’s gaze didn’t leave your phone.

“Didn’t realize you were still talking to him,” he said quietly, his voice laced with an edge you hadn’t heard before.

The atmosphere in the kitchen shifted as Matt walked away, leaving you standing there with a mixture of confusion and frustration. You hadn't even had the chance to explain the text before he had wandered off, his emotions clearly written all over his face.

“Matt,” you called sternly, your voice cutting through the chatter. Nick and Chris calling after him as well.

He didn’t stop or turn around, instead muttering, “Ask Y/N,” over his shoulder before heading toward his room. “I’m in my room.”

Matt’s retreat down the hallway left a heavy silence in the kitchen. You stared after him, confusion and frustration swirling inside you. His clipped tone and sudden departure stung, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were missing something important.

“Uh… what was that about?” Chris asked, breaking the tension.

Nick, who was leaning against the counter, raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, Y/N, you wanna fill us in? He said to ask you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “He saw a text on my phone. From a guy I went on a date with.”

Chris let out a low whistle, his eyes wide with mock drama. “Ohhh. And he just happened to storm off right after? Interesting.”

Nick’s expression was more serious. “What did the text say?”

You hesitated. “He asked if I wanted to go out again.”

“And Matt saw it?” Nick pressed.

“Yeah,” you admitted, exhaling deeply. “But I wasn’t even going to say yes. I don’t even like the guy like that.”

Chris leaned on the counter, a smirk playing on his lips. “Then why do I feel like Matt does?”

You glared at him. “This isn’t funny, Chris.”

Nick crossed his arms, his gaze thoughtful. “He’s jealous. That much is obvious.”

“Jealous?” you repeated, your stomach twisting.

Chris rolled his eyes dramatically. “Y/N, you’re, like, his favorite person. Of course he’s jealous. He’s been weirdly possessive all day.”

You frowned, trying to make sense of it all. “But why wouldn’t he just talk to me instead of storming off?”

“Because it’s Matt,” Nick said simply. “He shuts down when it’s something personal.”

“Exactly,” Chris added, grinning. “Classic brooding behavior. Very on-brand.”

You ignored his joke, already moving toward the hallway. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good luck,” Nick called after you. “You’re probably the only one who can get through to him.”

The walk to Matt’s room felt longer than it was. You paused outside his door, your heart thudding. You knocked softly.

“Matt?” you called.

There was no response.

You knocked again, a little firmer this time. “Matt, it’s me. Can I come in?”

A long silence followed before you finally heard his voice, muffled and strained. “It’s open.”

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. Matt was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. His shoulders were tense, his whole posture radiating frustration and something deeper—something heavier.

“Matt,” you said, your voice gentle as you closed the door behind you. “What’s going on? Why did you walk off like that?”

He didn’t look up. “It’s nothing. You should go back to the others.”

“No,” you said firmly, stepping closer. “Not until you talk to me.”

He let out a humorless laugh, his voice tinged with bitterness. “What’s there to talk about, Y/N? I saw the text. You’ve got someone else to spend your time with.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? Matt, it’s not like that—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted, finally lifting his head to look at you. His eyes were red, his expression pained. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You can date whoever you want.”

You froze, your heart breaking at the sight of him like this. “Matt…”

“I just—” He ran a hand through his hair, his voice cracking. “I hate it, okay? I hate thinking about you with someone else. It drives me insane, and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

You moved closer, sitting down beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “Because what’s the point? You deserve to be with someone who makes you happy, and I—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, your voice firm but soft. “You don’t get to decide what I deserve.”

He turned to you, his eyes searching yours. “Then what do you want me to say, Y/N? That I’m in love with you? Because I am. I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I didn’t know how to tell you. And then I saw that text, and it felt like everything I’ve been holding onto just slipped away.”

Your breath caught, your heart racing at his words. He quickly looked down, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I shouldn’t have said that. Forget it.”

“No,” you said firmly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”

He stilled under your touch, his gaze hesitantly meeting yours.

“Matt,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m in love with you too. I have been for a while, but I was scared to say anything. I didn’t want to lose you.”

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process your words. “You… you mean that?”

You nodded, a small, tearful smile breaking through. “Yes, Matt. I mean it.”

He let out a shaky breath, his hand reaching up to cup your face gently. “I thought I was too late.”

“You’re not too late,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “You’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for.”

The tension between you dissolved, replaced by a warmth that felt like coming home.

Matt stared at you like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his hand still cupping your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, gentle and hesitant, as though he was afraid you might disappear.

“You really mean that?” he asked, his voice quiet but full of emotion.

You smiled, nodding as tears pricked at your eyes. “Yes, Matt. I mean it. I’ve been in love with you for a while. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

He let out a soft, shaky laugh, his eyes glistening. “You’re serious? After all this time, I thought… I thought I was just the guy you came to when you needed someone to vent to or—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, reaching up to take his hand in yours. “You’re so much more than that to me, Matt. You’ve always been more.”

Matt’s lips parted, and for a moment, it looked like he might say something, but instead, he just gazed at you with a mix of wonder and disbelief. Slowly, his free hand came up to rest on your other cheek, framing your face.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “But I was scared too. I thought maybe you’d laugh or tell me it was just me misreading everything.”

“Matt,” you said softly, your hands moving to rest on his wrists. “You didn’t misread anything. It’s always been you.”

His breath hitched, and before either of you could second-guess the moment, he leaned in. The space between you disappeared, and his lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, like he’d been waiting forever to do this.

Your heart soared as you kissed him back, your hands sliding up to grip his forearms. The kiss deepened, your emotions spilling over into every movement. His lips were warm, soft, and everything you’d imagined and more.

When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathless but smiling. Matt let out a soft laugh, his hands still on your face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, his voice low and full of affection.

You laughed too, your cheeks warm. “I think I have some idea.”

Before either of you could say anything else, the door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall.

“FINALLY!” Chris shouted, his voice echoing in the room.

Nick was right behind him, clapping loudly. “About damn time!”

You and Matt both jumped, turning to face them in shock.

“Chris!” Matt snapped, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “What the hell?”

“What?” Chris said, grinning ear to ear. “You’ve been in here forever. We figured something dramatic was happening, but *this*—” He gestured between the two of you. “This is way better than I expected.”

Nick leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “Seriously, we’ve been waiting for you two to figure this out for *years.*”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh my god, you guys.”

Matt looked like he wanted to crawl under the bed, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Can you not?”

“Nope,” Chris said, crossing his arms. “This is a moment, and we’re celebrating it. You’re welcome, by the way, for leaving you alone long enough to get there.”

Nick grinned. “So… do we tell Mom and Dad? Or should we wait for the engagement?”

“Nick, I swear—” Matt started, standing up, but Nick and Chris both bolted out of the room, laughing.

You and Matt exchanged a look, both of you exasperated but also unable to stop smiling.

“Do you see what I have to deal with?” he asked, gesturing toward the open door.

You laughed, reaching out to take his hand. “I think I can handle it.”

He squeezed your hand, his expression softening as he looked at you. “I’m really glad you’re here, you know that?”

“Me too,” you said, your smile widening. “Even if your brothers are a little much.”

“A little?” Matt teased, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re being generous.”

You laughed again, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

☆.𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𓍊𓋼𓍊.☆

Taglist: @sophand4n4

[matchalovertrait]

24 screenshots of 2024! ✮⋆˙

Thank you for the tag @itmeansiris, @cakepoppresent, @euphiesims, @rosienthe, @simscici, @smulie, @living-undead, and @elderwisp!! 💗

January

Infant Dulce!!!! Aw how precious 😭 I love her little pigtails and look in her eyes. She looks a lot like her dad here lol.

One of Generation One's requirements in the Joy of Life Challenge is to "Throw the best parties for your child(ren), full of yummy cakes and treats!" and this was the very first of many cute parties :) Ángel's 5th birthday. I was still very new to the Sims 4 and I felt pretty proud of myself.

February

MY FOUR BABIES 😭😭😭😭 I love them with all my heart.

This took soooooo much work as a beginner omg!! I thought it was just okay but it got a lot of love :o

Ángel, Esperanza, Dulce, Guillermo, and Matthew as kids! I had no clue what the future held for them lol. Look at all of them appearing so cute and innocent 😆

March

An ofrenda for in-game Día de Los Muertos. It turned out pretty decent. That's a picture of Noemí's mom, Ynez.

Again, I don't know what possessed me to do a Diced Junior arc 😂 Besides the lighting and ugly text, I'm really proud of it. So no, I will never stop mentioning it.

April

A lil too much text 😅 but I liked showing the personalities of Dulce's cousins more here. Fun fact: It may not seem like it but Guillermo has the genius trait. A handful of his lines in this legacy insinuates that lol.

This was right after Dulce posted the Alto exposé video. I like how I showed a few different opinions from the comment section of her video. Also, it's a little ironic that she would meet a somewhat familiar fate due to Caruso's video about her 😅 hehehe.

May

My free-spirited Dulce 💓 maybe one of her future kids can become a basketball star, hmm.

Ynez and Infant Noemí <3 Translation: It’s just the two of us, but that doesn’t matter. I’m going to put in A LOT of effort to give you a good life. Hopefully, you grow up to be a person who is very kind, strong, and noble. And she did grow up to be like that :)

June

I'm not religious but Noemí practices catholicism. That's the main religion in Mexico, where she is from! Ngl I think I have religious trauma, but I can recognize when people have good intentions when they pray over you. I kinda like it, shows they care. ...Not in the Southern way when people say "Bless your heart" when they don't mean it like that. Context matters 😂

Bruh, Dulce 💀 Also, I will admit that Caruso looks kind of cute here 😂 I see why some of you fell for him. But that was part of my elaborate plan 😈

July

Okay, the first Lizaxi Legacy post went pretty hard. I'm pleasantly surprised about that LOL! We have some good lines, interesting characters, and decent shots!

Part of Mimli and Smeagie's house :> you'll find cacti, aliens, and stars throughout the home.

August

I LOVE the post that this came from 😂 This save was a lot of fun, I need to revisit it.

My Pierrot clown!!!! One of my favorite posts of this year!! I'm so proud of it :> Her outfit, her makeup, the long sorta-side bangs, the balloons, the fog, her facial expression. Love it.

September

Uh oh, Erick met Caruso and he was NOT having it 😅 Erick is such a kind guy too.

The big move to Del Sol Valley!!! Remember when we thought she was moving to Scotland? 🤔 Anyway, Dulce looks so pretty here! I love the palm trees in the back.

October

I reallllyyyyyyyy like the colors of Dulce's office and how I decorated it :>

Dulce's disguise 😂 man I love turning the ideas in my head into reality. Even if it's all pixels.

LMAO this is so funny and unserious to me 😭😭 Why is bro showing off his body, tattoos, AND jawline in the office??? We're supposed to be having a serious convo here, hellllppppp

November

Okay, this is pretty cool. Now that I look at it, that definitely looks like a supervillain house. I also like the fonts that I used and how you can see that the party is about to begin.

Dulce showing off her knowledge from secret agent movies! She's so silly hehe

[ms-spkhd]

been dabbling in omegaverse lately, so congrats, you get an excerpt of one of my WIPs

(tw for period-typical homophobic and ableist language)

Funny. Eddie could have sworn that the padlock on his locker door had been completely intact when he last checked before first period biology. 

Well, he’d hoped, since he changed the little bastard three times since the school year started–some barbarous, degenerate dickheads thought ransacking his locker and painting freak across the walls would really warm the cockles of their sad, commiserable little hearts. But those hopes, puny at most, seem to be dashed the moment he dragged his feet back from his final class of the day and found his locker, visibly padlock-less. Fuck.

Eddie stares vacantly at the door.

Well, it’s not actually funny. The joke never is, anyway, but what’s really funny is that Eddie has absolutely no clue if this whole thing is a joke or not. There’s evidence of funny business, of course, but the door isn’t tagged with fag or spazz or that ever-prevalent freak. He turns his head from left to right, surveying his surroundings, but nobody’s huddled together and snickering behind their hands like he’s the punchline of a school-wide inside joke. The hallway is relatively empty, save for plucky junior Gareth who’s hurrying towards him with his backpack slung around his shoulder and–funnily enough–Harrington, who quickly averts his gaze when Eddie’s eyes fly past him. 

Eddie huffs. So much for a damn Alpha, huh? Can’t even make eye contact with the freak of five years worth of weeks.

“Eddie!” Gareth greets enthusiastically, skidding to a stop next to Eddie, “What’s up, man?”

“Somebody fucked with my locker,” Eddie says blankly and points to the door. “The lock’s gone.”

“Shit, that’s not good.”

“I concur,” Eddie mutters bitterly. “Should I open it?”

Gareth straightens and takes a defensive step away from the locker. “No way,” he insists. “Knowing those guys, they’d put live frogs in your locker.”

‘Those guys’ is too broad of a statement–it could be anybody, considering their steadfast placement at the rock bottom of Hawkins High’s metaphorical feudal system. Now that he thinks about it, with Harrington leaning faux-casually against the lockers and occasionally scratching at his nose, it ought to be the work of the basketball team; no doubt Billy or Jason at the forefront of it all.

There’s a faint stench of anticipation whirling around the air. Dread, Eddie realizes. It smells like…like freshly ground pepper and the dewy forest behind his trailer. Like dead leaves and suburban rot.

“I don’t hear any croaking,” Eddie says, resolving to approach the situation with some natural caution. He swallows a great big breath and opens his locker.

The good news is that there’s no frogs.

The bad news? What he finds instead is fucking confusing.

All four walls are spotless, apart from the tally-marks he scratched into the left wall with a nickel for every detention he’d score, and there isn’t a single textbook, notebook, or balled up wad of graphing paper out of place. But, smack dab in the middle of his locker, nestled between the half-eaten tuna sandwich he’d forgot about last Thursday and a dog-eared copy of Brave New World, is a ziploc baggie of chocolate chip cookies, a black velvet pouch, and a piece of lined paper folded into a neat square.

“Any animal bits?” Gareth asks.

“Worse,” Eddie confirms.

To start, the gifts and the free food aren’t usually a thing. In fact, they’re never a thing because Eddie’s not a hot item in the high school market. He’s nowhere near lukewarm, practically Antarctic, at that. He’s no Ubermensch Alpha, weighed heavy with the stink of fresh blood and ash, nor is he a simpering and sweet-blooded Omega. He’s a Beta, like the other 80% of the high school population. There’s no reverence in the way he’s treated–he isn’t worshipped for his ‘powerful masculinity’ like they would an Alpha, and they definitely wouldn’t idolize or protect him for his honest to goodness high fertility rates.

Eddie is just Eddie. No one would even think to look at him twice if he didn’t decide to scrap his normalcy for the ‘devil-worshipping freak’ shtick. Jocks with inferiority complexes loved him for that. They loved the big red target he painted on his back, how it made them feel powerful, like big tall Alphas that howled into the moon and shifted the tides. But he’s not weak–he knows he’s not weak. He yells and claws and makes a scene; lets them know he has just as much power as them.

But that’s beside the point. No one is kind enough to sneak nice shit into Swirlie-boy Munson’s locker without ransacking it.

Eddie fishes out the pouch from between the cookies and note and examines it carefully, as one does with a bomb or vial of rat poison. As he loosens its tie, the sickly smell of apprehension spikes with his heart rate. 

What he finds only compounds his confusion. 

“It’s a D20,” Eddie tells Gareth, feeling light-headed. Gareth squints at him, his face scrunched like his brain hasn’t caught up with the information yet, which Eddie thinks is fair enough.

The dice is a yellow like sunshine, like a dandelion pinched between his fingers when he was small. It’s beautifully shiny, polished enough for Eddie to nearly see his reflection on its surface. There’s not even a single stain of a fingerprint on it. God, it must be brand new. It’s beautiful.

“Holy shit,” Gareth says, dazed.

“There’s no way,” Eddie breathes out, because the universe couldn’t possibly be this kind to him. There’s gotta be a catch–what if it exploded? What if it’s blackmail? Oh, God, the note.

Eddie fumbles with the pouch and tosses it into Gareth’s hands, who holds it gently in both palms as if he’s nursing an injured mourning dove. Like a bat soaring out of hell with its ass ablaze, Eddie snatches the note out of his locker and almost rips it to shreds in his haste to unfold it.

Dear Eddie,

I know I’m not the best with words, but I need you to know how much I feel towards you. I feel like we’re both on different sides of the track, a real Romeo and Juliet type situation, if you ask me–you’re King of the underdogs. You fight for your friends and the little ones you keep under your wing, and you have no idea how much I admire you for that. I guess you’d call me King of the school, but I hate that title. It’s got a lot of baggage I don’t handle too well, and, well, I’ve never been brave about it. I watch you and I see braveness personified, and I know I never fought for you like you fought for the guys in your corner.

Not just that, you’re beautiful too. Every time you look at me I feel like I shot a three-pointer at the championship game. It feels like a winning move. Those eyes you have, they’re like stars. And, God, your scent is so good. Like ginger and cinnamon behind all that tobacco, I wish I could smell it forever.

I know I’m not the type of guy you’d go for, or the type of guy you even tolerate, but I hope you’ll give me a chance.

Yours, 

S.H.

(Ps. Sorry about the lock, I accidentally broke it trying to jimmy it open like an idiot. I’ll pay for it if you want me to.)

(Pps. Look behind you.)

The first thing Eddie registers is the overwhelming scent of peppercorn swirled together with rain-soaked oakwood. “Time and place?”

Eddie’s eyes widen before he whirls around and almost brains Steve fucking Harrington with the white-knuckled fist clenching his letter. Harrington dodges his swing swiftly, catching Eddie’s hand in his, and smiles expectantly.

Holy shit, holy shit.

Gareth is braced against the locker beside Eddie’s, eyebrows high into his hairline and mouth aghast like a suffocating walleye. His eyes dart back and forth between Eddie and Harrington like the latter is going to swing back and stuff both of them into a locker.

Eddie swallows, feeling ill and cotton-mouthed. He wrestles his hand out of Harrington’s grip, hard enough to almost slam his knuckles back into Harrington’s pretty face again, and shoves the note into his front pocket with a huff. He shoots a glance over at Gareth and gestures at him to find Jeff or Phil with a flick of his head.

Gareth, typical of his dutiful nature, flips Harrington off with both hands and scampers off, sneakers squeaking distantly against the linoleum flooring.

Once Gareth rears the corner, Eddie sets his jaw and squares his shoulders. “My bench behind the school,” he says rigidly. He’s going to set this right. “Now.”

Harrington’s eyebrows scrunch curiously. “What?”

Eddie grabs the lapels of Harrington’s Members Only jacket and yanks him forward with all the force he can. “I said now.”

[embersareout9]

Mav: God won't let me die. Or get fired. Ice: I'm God.

[anna-scribbles]

regained my 12 year old swag(read an entire new percy jackson book in one sitting)

[oifaaa]

We do have electric kettles but unless you were a dedicated tea drinker or enjoy pour over coffee (compared to other popular extraction methods). Not many have one.

Also we have plug covers.

Never said you guys didn't have kettles said you didn't have good ones which is true bc the voltage in your plugs is lower then the Irish/UK plugs it means the kettles take longer to boil and becomes more of an inconvenience i also never said you guys didn't have plug covers I just said you have to buy them separately they're not apart of the plug like the irish/UK plugs

[rainingincale]

.

[wandaxpietro]

everything goes so slow for pietro i am 100% convinced he's incredibly terminally online to get his dopamine hits. he's so active on twitter people are worried about him. he keeps getting suspended bcuz he keeps sending people death threats and doxxing them and then has to call tony up so he can pay to get his accound back. he shows up in front of houses of people he beefs with. he fights with teenagers online all day. the official avengers twitter account has him blocked.

[giantkillerjack]

Me, 4 years ago: Boy, I sure love the song "Guitar Hero" by Amanda Palmer! But I can never clearly hear what it is she shouts in this one segment - I'll just look it up real quick!

...

[it was the n-word]

[graciousdragon]

"And should I be shocked now, by the last thing you said?

Before I pull this trigger, your eyes vacant and stained

And in saying you loved me made things harder, at best..."

in other words: fuck it we ball, i drew my AU version of Showtime Dawko with a palette colorpicked from the album cover of My Chemical Romance's "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love" because the brainrot is real 👍

am i super proud of this? eh. but i also haven't drawn digitally in literal months (thanks college) and if i'm gonna get back to it then i gotta start somewhere and i never post art anywhere so uh. i might as well now!

i still love Glitching Fates so much don't worry it is still on my mind 24/7 but unfortunately i almost never have time to dedicate to talking about it and also i am. Very Bad at putting my thoughts into words lmao

this is actually kinda lore tho. btw. lol. :]

[sysig]

Huh?? Whuh??? Okay (Patreon)

[that-tall-queer-bassist]

Me: I'll probably be pretty quiet in the discord server

Also Me: *quiet for a few days just focusing on hw*

Also Also Me: *comes out of the woodwork to mock member of the server and offer the opportunity for others to join the teasing*

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[asexual-levia-tan]

lookin stuff up for oc background purposes (digging deeper into madeleine’s backstory) and um

okay. cool.