#her design is still a bit of a work in progress

[rainbow-rose-peace]

My design for Miraculous Ladybug! Was trying out a new style and went a lil over board.

[chellychuu]

Calico cat girl OC ✨ She’s a slacker business woman by day, and magical idol by night!

[rainsleeper]

just testing the waters a little by sharing this

I've posted her before, about a year ago, and I guess she's back (she never really left)

(sorry for the abominable tags i'll probably screenshot them and reblog at some point)

[im-smart-i-swear]

Doodles of ps8 kuron feat. The Orbs for @empty-blog-for-lurking n some allurance for @sockdooe cause i wanted to draw some silly stuff<3

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

One thing I wish was understood a bit better about Twisted Wonderland.

Everyone in this game has trauma or personal struggles and it's NOT a competition of who has it worse. Honestly, sometimes I wish everyone's traumas were discussed more in depth in the game like we get with each person who Overblots, but we don't have time for it. With the Overblot boys, their trauma is shoved directly into the spotlight and we hear exactly how their situations make them feel. But the rest of the cast, ALL of them, have personal struggles and/or trauma. This is just a small list of some of the issues each non Overblot student has.

Ace masks the fear he feels in a lot of situations, and he's got an inferiority complex on some level. Notice how he bullied the player and Grim in our first interaction? That is a sign of someone who is looking to feel better by pushing someone else down because they don't feel good about themselves.

Deuce grew up with a single mother who had to work multiple jobs to make ends meet, which causes him to worry about her, and he was a delinquent in middle school, which made his mom, the one person he worries over, cry. He lives with those regrets, but he's still got those old habits and he agonizes over the fact he's not academically where he'd like to be and his behavior regresses when in heated situations.

Trey has severe trauma at being screamed at for FIVE HOURS over giving Riddle ONE slice of tart, so much that his vitals are severely affected at the thought of Mrs. Rosehearts and he's heavily conflict avoidant.

Cater has had to move all the time and as a defense mechanism, refuses to be honest or get close to people because he doesn't want to get attached only to be ripped away from them.

Ruggie lives in EXTREME poverty when not at school. He struggles to make ends meet and he has to work so hard in a system that is DESIGNED to keep him in poverty, because many beastmen still prefer segregation in the Sunset Savannah.

Jack has one of the healthier mindsets, but he still struggles with being open and honest about his feelings, which makes it hard to have friends, and he struggled with watching Leona, someone he's idolized, fall short of what he believed of Leona.

Jade and Floyd are implied to have grown up in some form of crime family and both seem to have handled the fact their lives could be in constant danger differently. Both like things being interesting, but Jade seems to prefer seclusion and control, while Floyd enjoys scaring people off and having as much fun as he can before he goes.

Kalim is someone who has had multiple assassination attempts on his life, even from his own family. He masks behind a smile, but he's afraid to trust people, and when he DOES TRY to talk about it, it gets brushed off because he has money. Also, he has to deal with the fact Jamil has been undermining his ability to progress by not treating him as if he's capable at all.

Epel has been teased and bullied on how he looked to the point where he started instigating fights to ensure he wouldn't be teased. He also has to fall in line with what Vil wants because he made the error of picking a fight with Vil and getting his butt HANDED to him. To further add, Vil is NOT NICE about it when Epel resists, with one example being Vil grabbing him by the ear and pulling hard as a form of punishment.

Rook has deal with the fact that for being someone who is super perceptive and can notice details, he didn't realize Vil's feelings around Neige, likely because he was blinded by his own admiration for both of them and that's a bitter pill to swallow.

Ortho has to deal with being basically created as a replacement for dead Ortho Shroud, trying to figure out if he's just really a robot made by Idia with really good AI or more than that, and dealing with the fact he loves his brother so much, but his brother doesn't take care of himself and it's disheartening to watch Idia's self-destruction.

Lilia has so much war trauma, losing his loved ones, having been exiled, and so much other crap. Even so, he forced himself to put the war and his trauma about it in the past, where it belonged for the sake of his two sons who both lost so much to war, which is something Baur/Baul could NOT do which was to Sebek's detriment.

Silver has had to live with the idea that his adoptive father would likely outlive him, then is faced with the fact that his father is basically abandoning everything about their life in Briar Valley before he learns that his biological parents were the enemies of the person he serves and cares about, Malleus, and the only father he's ever known.

Sebek has grown up with internalized racism/speciesism against humans thanks to his upbringing and he basically rejects half of his heritage with how he treats his father. He does not even realize how hurtful his comments are until he's faced with those remarks being directed at him by a younger version of his grandfather.

And this isn't everything each student has to face. This is just broad strokes. Yana Toboso wrote a story about flawed people who all have gone through really hard and difficult things because that's the point. As Toboso said in a 2023 interview:

“Happy endings in Disney works come from righteous actions and love, but I believe that the villains are characters who do not get saved during the story. That is why, through this game, I want to portray the message that even if you get beat up all the way to a bad ending, you can grow from it and live your life without feeling discouraged.

Acting lame, obstinate, without hesitation, being open and honest—it’s not as bad as it sounds. 

I would like to paint a positive picture of living honestly with yourself and not worrying about others.

In today’s society there are so many people who live in fear of failure and are always walking on eggshells, but nobody’s flawless. It is exhausting to try to live your life so that no one will hate you.”

Everyone, even people you don't know or do not like, have gone through things that shaped who they are. Sometimes, how we've adapted to handle the bad things that happen will force us to hit rock bottom. But you don't have to die when you hit rock bottom.

You can have terrible things happen to you and have maladaptive strategies to handle your experiences, but you aren't stuck that way forever. You can learn how to change your habits, learn to be okay with yourself, and work at being better than you were the day before.

Human growth is not linear. It's a bunch of taking steps forward and backsliding and learning and making mistakes over and over again and accepting failure, not as a testament to your character, but as part of the process of growth... and that's something all the students have to learn, not just the Overblot boys. Because all of them, every single one, are handling their own personal issues, even if it isn't shoved right in our faces.

[supernovafics]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄

pairing: bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k words

summary: in which a middle of the night conversation with steve reminds you both that things are changing 

warnings: explicit language, mixed pov, a bit of drunk!reader, one sided pining (allegedly), very angsty

author’s note: i’ve been working on a really long steve fic (which is like 90 percent done and will hopefully see the light of day very very soon) and i took a break from it and somehow this was born in a matter of days. inspired by the song midnight blue by electric light orchestra. enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“You wanna get out of here?”

The music was loud, even as the night started to finally come to its end, but you still heard Steve clearly. 

“I thought you’d never ask, Harrington,” You turned to him sitting next to you at this empty table in the backyard of your aunt’s now husband’s house. 

The little smile you gave Steve made his eyebrows furrow. “How drunk are you right now?”

You scoffed as you shook your head. “Not at all.”

Your words were pretty much immediately proven opposite when you stood up from the table and stumbled a bit. Steve was by your side immediately, grabbing your arm to keep you from falling. 

“So, what was that you were saying about not being drunk at all?”

“Okay, that only just happened because of how long this stupid dress is, no other reason.”

Your bridesmaid dress had been the bane of your existence all day— it was way too long and designed to be tight in places that made everything more difficult— and then coupled with the heels you had to wear with it, you were honestly surprised you hadn’t toppled over sooner. You didn’t expect a wedding taking place in a backyard, even as huge and spacious as this one was, to be so incredibly fancy, but it was. 

Steve didn’t say anything in response to your previous words and instead simply slipped his hand in yours as you two started walking away from the table.  

“Do you wanna say bye to your mom before we leave?”

“No thanks,” You shook your head. “I’d rather her not see me drunk right now.”

Steve smiled at you. “Hey, that’s progress, at least you’re admitting it now.”

You only rolled your eyes at him as he led you two out of the backyard and toward his car. 

“This is your fault, by the way.”

The laugh Steve let out was immediate. “Ah yes, because I’m the one who kept giving you glasses of champagne, and it definitely wasn’t you grabbing one every time a server passed by.”

“I’m glad you’re taking full responsibility,” You said, smiling at him as you got into his passenger seat. 

The drive to Steve’s place managed to sober you up for the most part, and it also made you very tired. 

“Okay, here’s a t-shirt and shorts,” Steve said, holding the clothing items out for you to grab, but you didn’t because you were sitting at the foot of his bed, trying, and failing, to unzip the zipper at the back of your dress. He gave you an amused smile. “Do you need help?” 

“Yes, please,” You nodded as you stood up from his bed and turned around so that he could do it. You started slipping the straps off your shoulders once he was done.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve said, leaving you to change into the clothes he gave you. 

You were in his bed with the Hawkins High t-shirt on along with the basketball shorts that you tied tightly at your hips when he returned with two glasses of water.  

You turned on your side to face him once he was changed out of his fancy wedding clothes and slipped into bed next to you.

“This is the second time in a row that you’ve been the sober one taking care of me. Next time you have to get drunk so I can take care of you,” You said and then booped the tip of his nose with your finger. “Things are starting to feel a little unfair in this friendship.”

Steve let out a laugh, and you figured he was thinking back to last week when you two went to a party at some old high school friend’s lake house; the punch had been lethal, to say the least. “Okay, I promise to get super drunk at your going away party next week.” 

At the mention of your goodbye party— which was meant to be a happy and joyous occasion to celebrate you moving to Chicago— your smile faltered. Hearing about the party, reminded you that things were changing; that everything was going to be entirely different soon. 

And you’d been avoiding that thought a lot lately, even as you slowly started packing up your childhood bedroom, and found a place in Chicago with the help of your mom because a friend of hers was renting a place out.

Pretty much everyone in your life knew that you weren’t the best with change, and you’d avoid it at all costs if you could, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t understand that sometimes it simply had to happen. It was a contradictory mindset— you hated change, but it also made sense to you. 

It did still really suck, though. 

You suddenly sniffled and one of your hands came up to wipe at your face, and you quickly turned around so that you weren’t facing Steve anymore.

“Hey,” His voice was soft. “Are you crying?”

You didn’t outwardly answer his question. “It’s stupid, but I’m just now realizing that this is the last time we’ll do this. After next week, there’s probably not gonna be another night like this one.”

What you didn’t tell him was that you had a feeling that once you left, your friendship wouldn’t be the same anymore. And how could it be when you were moving to a different state and you were going to go from seeing him almost every day to probably only a handful of times a year?

The pros were supposed to outweigh the cons, and on paper, they did. You had always wanted to live in Chicago, and you were moving there for what was essentially your dream job— two very solid pros. However, the biggest con was leaving Steve, and that suddenly felt like it outweighed everything. 

“It sucks, but in a good way, if that makes sense,” Steve told you as he shifted closer to wrap a comforting arm around you. “It really sucks that you’re leaving, but you’re leaving to do something that you really want to do, so that’s great.”

“It’s bittersweet,” You said the word he was looking for. Your hand found his beneath the blanket and intertwined it with yours. His words were completely right, and in a way, they did comfort you.

“Yeah, exactly,” Steve responded, giving your hand a light, reassuring squeeze. 

“You should come with me,” You whispered to him. It was the first time you offered, and you slightly regretted not asking sooner. 

But, you hadn’t because you knew how much he really liked his life here— working at Family Video with Robin and driving the kids around everywhere (which he claimed he hated, but you knew he secretly loved it). And then there was a part of you that wanted to pretend that things weren’t really changing, so that was another reason why you hadn’t asked him. 

“I can’t,” He whispered back. “It just wouldn’t make sense, y’know?”

You simply nodded, even though he probably couldn’t see you. His words shouldn’t have hurt you, and you really shouldn’t have suddenly felt so sad about everything and so scared about the future too, but you still kind of did. 

Suddenly, you were no longer tired, but you truly wished that you could force yourself to sleep. And when a few minutes of keeping your eyes shut and hoping that would make you fall asleep didn’t work, you pulled the blanket off of you and got out of bed.  

“Where are you going?” You heard Steve ask from behind you. 

And when you didn’t answer and instead continued walking out of his bedroom, he got out of bed to follow you.

Steve hadn’t wanted to say no to you. If the circumstances were different, he would’ve said yes and uprooted his entire life to move with you to Chicago in a heartbeat. But, he couldn’t do that. 

And he was glad that you didn’t push further on the topic because if you would’ve asked him what he meant when he said, “It just wouldn’t make sense,” he wasn’t sure what he would’ve said with in response; if he would’ve lied or mustered up the courage to finally tell you the truth. 

However, he knew that there was really no point in being honest anymore. He loved you, but you were leaving, so what would be the point of finally admitting it to you? 

This secret that he had been keeping tight to his chest for years at this point would only complicate things, and probably confuse you, and definitely ruin the friendship you two had if he told you. 

He’d gotten good at pretending that nothing had changed on his side of things, and he was okay with continuing to pretend if that meant keeping things good between you and him. 

In this moment, though, he wasn’t sure if things were good between you two. 

He wondered if you were pissed at him for saying no to moving with you to Chicago and if that was why you left his room. He followed you out into the hallway and down the stairs and then out into his backyard. 

You sat down at the edge of the pool and put your feet in. Steve didn’t question you— although he did want to ask where this sudden energy had come from because he could’ve sworn that you had been falling asleep in his car barely an hour ago— and instead simply followed suit. 

The water was warm because of the heater that his parents never turned off, and Steve watched as you kicked your legs every now and again. Neither of you said anything, and it was hard for Steve to tell if this silence was comfortable or not. 

After what felt like an hour’s worth of silence, he asked, “Are you mad at me?”

You shook your head at him as you sighed. “I don’t think I could ever be mad at you, Steve.” You kicked your legs again. “Things are just feeling a lot more bitter than sweet right now.”

Before Steve could say anything in response to that, you were standing up and then looking down at him. “It’s barely midnight. Let’s get in the pool.”

“Um, okay. You wanna change? I think you left your swimsuit here from when we swam a couple of days ago.” 

“No, it’s fine,” You said and then proceeded to jump in. 

“You sure you’re not still drunk?” Steve asked with an amused smile when your head emerged from the water. 

You playfully stuck your tongue out at him. “I’m as sober as a baby, Harrington. Now get in.” 

He smiled wider at you, things felt okay again. He jumped in the pool fully clothed as well, and you were smiling at him when his head popped up. 

You quickly complained about how heavy your clothes felt, and you pulled off the soaked t-shirt and shorts and set them on the ground next to the pool, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. Steve made a point of keeping his eyes locked on yours. On paper, this wasn’t that different from the many times he’d seen you in a bikini, but something about this felt a little different.

He, of course, pretended that it didn’t, though. Mainly because of how unfazed you seemed. 

Both of you ended up floating on your backs and looking up at the stars. There was a night back in middle school when you two had done exactly this, minus the pool. You two had been in your backyard staring up at the sky, and you rattled off the constellations you knew and then proceeded to make up names for others, but Steve thought you were telling the truth. And he probably would’ve thought that way forever if you hadn’t told him the next morning that half of the names weren’t true. 

He still remembered most of the fake names, and in this moment, he reminded you of them. 

You laughed immediately. “I can’t believe you still remember that.” 

“How could I ever forget the first lies you ever told me?” Steve joked.

“That was early on in our friendship. I wanted you to think I was cool.”

He let out an amused sound. “Oh, yes, because you knowing the name of every constellation would definitely make me think you’re cool and not the biggest nerd ever.”

“Shut up,” You told him, but still laughed. “My logic wasn’t all that great back then.” 

Steve only hummed in response and turned his head to look at you for a second. You were still looking up, but there was a certain look on your face that he couldn’t decipher.  

“You know the worst part about cities?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed at your question and how random it seemed. “What?” 

“You don’t get to see this every night.” 

He nodded even though you couldn’t see him. “You should add that to the cons.”

“How do you know I made a pro-con list?”

“Because I know you and every big decision you make has to have a pro-con list.” 

You got quiet, and Steve worried that he offended you, but he wasn’t making fun of you at all. He loved you and your lists. 

“Well, you should also know that you’re at the top of the con list,” You told him, and moved so that you were no longer looking up at the sky but instead looking at Steve, and he followed suit. “It says ‘There’s no Steve’ in all capital letters.” 

He could feel his heart squeeze in his chest upon hearing you say that.

“I feel honored. Truly,” He responded and gave you a playful smile because he didn’t want things to turn too serious again.

“I’m really gonna miss you,” You said softly, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around him. “A lot. So much. Maybe even too much.” 

Steve’s attempt at keeping things light failed, but he didn’t care. His arms immediately circled your waist. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

Things became quiet again, and when you pulled away, you splashed him with water. 

“What was that for?” He asked with a laugh as he wiped at his face. 

You gave him a small, sad smile. “Maybe I am a little mad at you.”

Your joking words came out soft, almost as if they weren’t entirely a joke, and Steve immediately felt bad. 

“I would go with you, and a part of me really does want to. Seriously. But, it’s just that…” He trailed off, not knowing the best way to say what he needed to. The words just wouldn’t form on his lips.  

You shook your head. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it. I know that you like your life here, and you don’t wanna move to a city. Chicago has always been my “dream,” not yours. It’s okay. Honestly.” 

It’s not that, was what Steve wanted to say in response to your words. It was probably what he should’ve said. However, he realized that everything would be a lot easier if you just believed that.

“I’ll visit you all the time,” He promised instead. 

That made you smile. “Good.”

You two ended up back in his bed half an hour later. With dry clothes on and a comfortable silence lingering in the air. You fell asleep quickly, but Steve couldn’t, for some reason. 

His mind was running a million miles a minute, and his thoughts were going back and forth. For the first time, he was actually considering going with you to Chicago. He thought about how fun it could be; how new and exciting. 

His head became an unending push and pull. One side of him was telling him that he should do it and go, but everything else in him was saying the complete opposite. 

Being hopelessly in love with you here in Hawkins felt like one thing; he could pretend that he wasn’t pining, like he’d been doing for the past couple of years. But, if he moved with you to Chicago— just you two in a new city— he felt like it would be damn near impossible to not blurt it out and potentially fuck up everything. 

However, even though he knew that, he also kind of wanted to just lean into the part of him that was saying, “Do it. Go with her and see what happens. Maybe she even feels the same way.”

Sometimes Steve liked thinking about the moment things had changed for him; he could recall it quite easily. It was a month after his breakup with Nancy, and you dragged him to a random classmate’s party to help cheer him up because you knew that he was still feeling a little melancholic about it all. The party sucked so you ended up going to the movies, a midnight showing of some terrible horror film and you two were the only ones in the theater. 

You made jokes the entire time, trying to keep things light and fun, and something shifted inside of him. He suddenly felt so fucking grateful for you, that you were in his life and had been since middle school. He always felt lucky to have you in his life, but that time in the empty movie theater felt different.  

That time when your hand instinctively found his during a part of the movie that actually was pretty scary, all he could think was, I love you. I’m in love with you. 

It hit him so abruptly, and he initially chalked it up to still being sad about his breakup, but even after he felt entirely over Nancy, these new feelings for you never went away. And it was as if he instinctively knew that he could never tell you; it felt like no question that he’d have to keep it a secret.  

In this moment, Steve turned on his side away from you and closed his eyes, hoping that he could just force himself to sleep.  

But, no, he instead thought about something from earlier at the wedding, you and him dancing to a slow song that neither of you recognized. It was early on in the reception, before you started accepting every glass of champagne that came your way. 

You thanked him for coming with you to the way too fancy wedding— you had asked him last second when you realized just how many estranged and random family members you’d see and have to talk to and you couldn’t bear the thought of suffering through that alone, and he found someone to cover his Family Video shift when you called him in an anxiety-induced panic. 

Steve immediately told you that there was no need to thank him because he would always be by your side whenever you needed it, and you pulled him in for a hug and told him that you’d do the exact same for him too. 

“This is gonna sound super cliche and stupid, but hear me out. This is the best part about being best friends,” You had also said. “We’ll always be there for each other, and I don’t think anything’s gonna change that.”

Steve nodded and gave you a small, amused smile. “That is very cliche, but you’re also very right.”

He remembered how true his words felt in the moment. 

He now fully understood that he couldn’t let a confession potentially change everything that was so right and good between you two. It made sense why his initial thought when he realized how he felt was to bury it down and keep it a secret.

This, what you two had, was enough. 

And it felt okay continuing to believe that. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[charliemwrites]

Men At Work - Part 3

I know this has been a little slow to start, but things should progress a little more quickly from here. I wanted to establish some of the groundwork for this weird dynamic they all have but unfortunately, these men don't know the meaning of slow, even in my own head.

No Content Warnings

“How are the repairs going?” you ask.

It’s just Nikto today, returning your Tupperware from dinner the other night. He’s covered head to toe once again, all that’s visible are those glass blue eyes. One way mirrors - hiding everything beneath the surface.

They remind you of… something. 

Hmm. When you figure it out, they’re sure to make an appearance in your next novel.

“On track,” he answers in that sharp, staccato way you’re learning is just his way.

Unfortunately for him, that just makes you more curious. You know it’s a bit obnoxious - you’re not entitled to information, you know that. And most of the time you curb the inquiries tapping at the back of your teeth. But he’s in your house, snuggling your traumatized cat. If he’s got a problem answering casual questions, you’re certain he’ll have no problem letting you know.

“You’re redoing the whole thing?”

“Most of it. Foundation is good. The rest - дерьмо.”

You don’t know a lick of Russian, but you can guess.

“Good bones,” you hum in understanding. As if you know anything about construction. “That helps. When do you think it will be done?”

He shifts, sharp eyes flicking between your busy hands, the door, and Rasputin holding him lovingly hostage.

Little guy is currently perched on your shoulder, face buried against your collar in abject despair that his bestest friend hasn’t come to visit. Shithead is poaching (or attempting to, anyway) the sandwiches you’re assembling. So far, she’s only swishing her tail, biding her time. You’re keeping an eye on her.

“Two months. Three if any of us are called.”

You hum, reach for the tomatoes. It’s only because you’re looking at him that you notice the slightest twitch around his eyes. Beneath his mask, you’d bet he’s scrunching his nose.

“No?”

“I will eat.”

You leave the tomatoes off. Guy mews sadly, you tilt your head to press a kiss to his little ear.

“So, two or three months. Krueger said you’ll move in then.”

“Da.”

You top the sandwiches with a final slice of bread and turn to the oven. Spin back just in time to catch Shithead’s paw reaching for Krueger’s designated sandwich. Nikto eyes the plate of brownies in your free hand; you bite the corner of your mouth to keep from grinning.

“What about the yard?”

Nikto tilts his head. If he didn’t give the impression of a particularly large predator, you’d call it cute. As it is, even spiders and snakes endear themselves to you somehow.

“What about yard?”

“Any plans for it?” You sneak an extra brownie onto Nikto’s plate. Reward and apology for wrenching conversation out of him. “Grass? Trees? Flowers?”

He blinks. Just once. Some sort of intuition tells you that even that behavioral tic is a big social step for him.

“No.”

“Oh, uh… gravel then?”

“We mean no plans,” he corrects.

“Oh! Alright, I suppose that’s a long way off anyway. There’s still so much work to do on the inside.”

But it does get you thinking. What even goes into fixing a house? And how do they know all this stuff? The electric, the insulation, the… whatever else goes into a home. Is it just Weird Things they picked up from the military?

You stare contemplatively at the house’s exterior as you walk the plates across the street with Nikto. (Ras is riding on his shoulder and Guy refused to detach his claws from yours. You fear for the state of your home with Shithead left behind, but neither you nor Nikto had a spare hand to wrangle her with.)

Nikto practically kicks the door in, shouting for the others as he goes. Guy chooses that moment to start crying - uncanny sense for appearing pathetic as possible.

Konig must hear him halfway down the stairs, because the steady boot steps get faster after a moment.

“Oh, bubchen! Why are you sad? What has happened?” Konig coos, nearly running to your side.

Of course, now that he’s gotten what he wanted, Guy’s volume lowers. He makes a pleased little “mrow” and slinks off your shoulder and into Konig’s reaching hands. You’d call him a traitor but you’re a damn sucker for a big man with a cute animal. 

“You two are ridiculous,” you laugh, setting the plates on the counter.

It’s already been replaced since last you saw it. Black granite, very sleek. You like it. (Which of them installed it? Nikto? You usually catch glimpses of him on the ground floor.)

“He is a baby, Biene,” Konig protests, “he must be treated like one.”

“He’s already five!” You reply, like you don’t have a papoose for when your hands are too full to snuggle him.

“Did I stutter? I do not think so. This is a baby.”

You have to turn away to hide your laughter, pretending that taking the foil off the lunches requires your full attention.

Krueger steps up behind you while you’re not looking. The heat of him is what alerts you, the only reason you don’t jump when his rough voice comes by your head.

“Where is the Shithead.”

“Hello to you too, Krueger. How is your day?”

He grunts and reaches past you, trying to snatch up a brownie. Without a thought, you slap at his hand - balk at the sharp whack sound it makes. He jerks his hand back in shock.

“You deny me my dearest friend and you attack me in my own home.”

You spin on your heel, mouth already open. False start as you realize he’s even closer than you expected. The height difference doesn’t seem like much until you’re eye level with his neck. You untangle your tongue and ignore the smirk growing at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“This is barely a house, never mind a home,” you scoff.

He snorts - that smirk turns to a full blown grin. A little crazed. Unfortunately, that makes it more attractive. (And the bastard probably knows it too.)

“You insult me too, now.”

“Sure, but I brought you food.”

He flicks his eyes to the plate behind you and arches a brow.

“Bring me the little Sheisskerl and I will forgive you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Go get her yourself.”

What the hell did you just say? Inviting a man into your house unaccompanied?! You may not be a true crime writer, but you know better.

You still don’t take it back.

He locks eyes with you, gives the distinct impression that he knows exactly what you just thought and he’s amused by your obstinance.

“Fine.” He reaches past your hip. Smells like sweat and something that reminds you of heat. Solder? Certainly not anything you’re used to. “Behave, eh? Konig is easy to take advantage of.”

You snort and glance at Konig over his shoulder, who’s glaring now. (Somehow no less intimidating even with Guy nuzzling at his mask.)

As Krueger turns, he takes a big bite of brownie, humming appreciatively under his breath. You shake your head, then turn to Konig.

“If you want to steal one of his sandwiches, I’ll look the other way.”

Konig barks a short, sharp laugh of surprise. It startles you a bit, but not enough to wipe the grin from your face. You know he really means it when he sounds like that.

“How are the bathroom repairs going?” you ask.

“They are going well!” he answers. Then launches into an in-depth explanation of all the ongoing projects. Replacing walls, rewirings, outlet and light installations. What doesn’t go over your head is almost too fast to understand as his accent thickens with excitement. You nod along anyway, because you asked, and he’s stupidly endearing - big muscular man getting a bit squeaky while he rambles about pipes.

He barely even notices Guy’s little paw reaching until it’s shoved into his open mouth. He sputters as you burst into laughter, gently tucking Guy’s arm against his chest.

“Why would you do this?!” he asks, only to receive a slow blink in response.

“He’s saying you need to eat,” you giggle, nudging Konig’s plate.

“Oh, that’s right! Thank you for the lunch!”

Barely a couple bites in and you hear the door open again. Krueger stomps in with Shithead bundled in his arms, one hand under her bottom, the other around her tummy. She’s got her head tilted all the way back to chirp and chitter at him.

“Why are you carrying her like that?” you ask, choking back a giggle. 

“It is how she wishes to be carried.”

You blink at her - but sure as shit, she’s perfectly content being held like a child’s toy.

“Well good luck eating like that.”

“You won’t feed me?” he leers.

“I don’t want rabies if you bite me.”

His laughter is even harsher than Konig’s. You like it instantly.

All that’s left is to hear Nikto’s.

Agatha is outside when Nikto walks you back home.

(Krueger huffed that he had too much work to do for the day, but he would see you for dinner. While you were still blinking in shock at his self-invite, Konig transitioned Little Guy back into your arms. All the while grumbling at Krueger’s impatient German.)

She scowls as she notices your two-person parade. Nikto’s juggling Little Guy and Rasputin; you’ve got a firm grip on Shithead and the stack of dirty plates. You snort a bit just thinking of her paranoid comments about them being bad men. Sure, they might be in some ways, but it’s a hard sell when Ras is trying to lick at the edge of the mask around Nikto’s eyes.

“Afternoon, Agatha,” you call, just to be petty.

“When is your fiance coming by again?” she calls back. “Such a lovely young man.”

Your mirth dries up in an instant. “I broke up with my boyfriend four months ago. I thought I told you.”

You did. You know you did. Because she’s a nosy pain in the ass that was asking about your Easter plans with him (trying to invite you to church once again) when you told her that you left him. She’d even fussed about it at the time, saying that there’s hardly anything that can’t be healed with time and understanding.

(It was only your commitment to your own privacy that kept you from asking how much time it takes to smooth over someone cheating with your cousin.)

At your side, Nikto grunts. You glance sideways at him, wondering what he must think.

But his eyes are on Agatha. Even Rasputin has paused the grooming routine to narrow his one eye at her.

“Is this the one that looks in mailbox?” he asks, louder than you’ve ever heard.

Loud enough that she hears. And flushes redder than the poppies in your flowerboxes.

“That’s her husband, actually,” you answer. She sputters, and an incredibly immature bolt of satisfaction suffuses you.

He grunts again. Eyes her up and down. “Maybe we leave surprise for him next time, da?”

You press your lips together, but it does nothing to prevent you from grinning. He’s deadly serious, though, which somehow makes it even funnier to you.

“Maybe!” you reply in a tone that really means absolutely.

Nikto shuts the door on her face before Agath can get out a threat to call the police.

“You’ve got a petty streak,” you say, grinning at him.

He tilts his head. “You like.” He doesn’t even sound sure if it’s a question or a statement.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “I like it.”

He grunts and takes the plates from your hand. “We wash. You think about dinner and revenge. Da?”

You plop yourself onto a stool by the kitchen counter. “Da.”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[honeydazai]

₊˚⊹♡ how they express their love for you

feat.: Viktor, Jayce, Silco, Vander, Sevika

notes: the same prompt has also been written before by my beloved @moonlight-in-the-sea here!! observe it or perish.

VIKTOR, all scepticism and sharp edges, raised eyebrows and discontent twitches of his lip when it comes to interacting with most people, has long learned to be open and honest with you. It's been a bit of a work in progress, the two of you growing closer over time, a natural development, but it's certainly paid out — his open expression and warm smile whenever he's with you makes your chest feel tight with affection, as does the fact that he has let his guards down completely, discussing just about every topic with you, ranging from the kinks of new inventions he still had to figure out, to gossip about the councillors. His humour blooms around you and Jayce, becoming one of his most noticeable traits.

It's no secret that he's working more often than not, that he's eating and sleeping in the lab whenever you don't put a stop to it, but, as you grow closer, he makes sure to split his attention between his two greatest passions; you, and his work. It shows in multiple ways, either through him inviting you to come along and watch, proudly introducing the new hextech inventions to you, eyes shining brighter than blue stones, or him actually taking half a day off to spend with you instead, taking you out to explore Piltover's little shops or simply staying at home with you, all domestic bliss.

It's strikingly obvious to both you, and to everyone around you, that JAYCE is especially fond of you, given how much he's touching you. They're all innocent gestures, like his huge hand resting on your upper arm, or on the small of your back when the two of you walk next to each other, or the warm hug he pulls you into when seeing you for the first time that day, strong arms inescapable, but it happens too often to be a coincidence. Whether he himself knows he's doing it is debatable — your best guess is that it comes so naturally to him that he barely even notices.

He's surprisingly attentive when it comes to your wellbeing — it shows in him always having a blanket on hand, or him giving you his jacket, when you're cold, in him asking if you've eaten already and keeping foods you like around.

His family's work is forging, and even though he's not quite as used to working on something this delicate, he does extraordinarily well when it comes to making you jewellery, working every night until there's no flaws to be detected. He also asks Mel or Viktor — Mel, preferably; subtlety is more her strength — to figure out what kind of gemstones you prefer to use those in the design.

SILCO is a man who values privacy — and yet, he has no issue with you constantly hanging around his office. Really, he's weak enough for you that he might attempt to scold you when you sit on his desk, pushing important documents to the side, or even on his lap while he's working, claiming your rightful place, arms looped around his neck, but his words never come off as truly strict, tone exasperated, but he'd never do anything against it. At this point, his office is as much your space as it is his, given how your belongings lie around everywhere — your lipgloss on his desk, your spare jacket on his wall, your favourite snacks secretly stocked in his drawers.

He's strikingly loyal, never even looking twice at someone else, given how he can only see himself being with you. Silco's always thinking of you, which shows not only in the way he brings you small gifts and trinkets — not unlike a crow — whenever he has to traverse the Undercity, but also through him wanting to keep your relationship a secret. It's most likely a sensitive topic, because he doesn't want you to think he's ashamed of you, never, but he's an influential man, and he just cannot stand the idea of someone harming you because of your connection to him. He's terrified of losing you.

VANDER is caring by nature, it shows in the way he protects his children and friends, his loved ones, his people. Still, with you, it's all the more obvious. Whenever you make your way to the bar, spending nights and early mornings at The Last Drop, he has your favourite drink already poured for you, including any modifications and snacks you like. In his mind, there's a whole section of facts about you, including your favourite positions to sleep in, your most beloved outfits, and the food you always ask for at the street vendor the two of you usually visit, and he couldn't stop himself from constantly gaining more information about what you like and dislike if he tried.

He's fond of physical affection, both strong arms wrapped around your waist when the two of you are sleeping, or the large of his hand splayed out on your lower back when he's guiding you through the crowds gathering in the bar. Not only does he simply enjoy touching you, the person he loves so very close to him, but he also wants to know you're safe at all times — if any stranger approaches you, setting you on edge, he's right there by your side. At night, he might cling to you a bit more tightly than usual when he's had bad thoughts of losing you the day long.

SEVIKA is entirely smitten by you. It's obvious enough that some of her colleagues comment on it, laughing and jeering at the heart-eyes she gives you whenever you walk by, gaze lingering for way too long, roaming over the curves of your hip and the way your hair moves in the wind. She's not bothered by anyone poking fun at her; yeah, she's heads over heels for you. So what?

She also really enjoys listening to you talk. After a hard day of work, there's nothing more relaxing to her than simply focusing on you, on your voice, on the peculiar way you pronounce certain words, and when she rests her head in your lap, your fingers gently threading through her hair, she just wants you to ramble about whatever comes to your mind.

Compared to Vander, her protection of you is mostly verbal — though that does not mean she wouldn't punch a guy until he's coughing blood if he looked at you the wrong way. Still, she's influential, imposing enough with just a raised eyebrow and a warning word for almost anyone to turn, tail between their legs, when they're staring at you for even a moment too long.

₊˚⊹♡ my commissions are open! ♡ tag list!

@my-awakened-ghost @afidiofobia @helloyellowsheeps @yuuotosaka3 @sccarymonster @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @artsyxabbyx @arboranimus @marina-and-the-memes @holysmokesblog @twilightdollie @kaaylvst @definitely-not-v @innerstrawberrypolice @misty-q @perylinsus @pleasemakeitgayer @imaginesbymk @meimayooo @doxmino @smolbeandrabbles @darknessbyme @darthkenobii-recs @mars738

@cupcakkesinflatedwetbussy @illicittete @lemzhargreeves @festivalthrash @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @user4837 @Nervousartisanheart @mikariell95 @mechmoucha

@silcobrainrot @Medeaa5 @nocturnal-onlooker @modernamilf @catsaiem @t0r @beyondblissxoxo @zillahvathek @brainrottingrn @klaudia7 @okura-s

@666abby6666 @ironnieincarn8 @watercolourdreams @scturne19 @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @cowboykiri @soullessbody @thottywizard @celebrity-crushes27 @ygrworld @sevikasslvtt @chaoticevilbakugo @trashbod @MiloMalaise @berywritesstuff @alice0blog

@gooseberries88 @s1t1n0ny0url4p @black-rose-29 @notyetzaio @ibby-miyoshi-nerd @that-marvel-simp @riot-in-my-soul @one-eyed-captain-kinky @serenareiss @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @nyx2021 @hexiisexii @sillytoaaad @enyoistic @cupxfcxffee @book-boys-are-better @jodidann @roxsubject @Happymoon16 @yumidepain

[chimerical-daydreams]

It Never Happens Au party portraits lets go!!!!

(designs/extra comments under cut)

I have no clue how level progression actually works in Isat so don't mind the numbers too much. Loop's stats are taken directly from their bossfight though.

Portraits made using kongkrog's isat profile customizer.

The sad man, after getting to a town and buying some now clothes and having a shower. He's still generally melancholic, but cheers up quite a bit. Has a bad tendency to poke his nose where he shouldn't. Too shy to ask people's names when he forgets, so calls them by their titles instead. Big fan of poetry.

Nille! She jumped at the chance to go on an advent with Bonnie, but has mixed opinions on Loop. Very boisterous in conversation , but usually sticks to herself. Uncontrollably observant and with good intuition, can read people and situations very accurately. Figured out that "thinking really hard abou what you want" when crafting leads to a higher success rate (and the smell of sugar, for some reason?), so her creations stick together even when they look incredibly unstable.

[craske]

dejammed au beast heightchart, plus sort of a reference for their new looks

beasts are huge when compared to other cookies. the overwhelming amount of magic of the soul jams needed a proper vessel, so as the corruption progressed, so did the beasts grow to be able to contain it. even if that is now absent, their bodies were forever changed

the colored horizontal lines represent the ancients

+ some design info and some explanations under the cut

shadow milk cookie is the shortest out of beasts, however he was able to shapeshift before dejamming, and especially before gaining a new body. his entire body is covered with very short and surprisingly soft fur, except for his forearms, back and legs which show some scales. not that you could see it normally, since his almost entire body is hidden under his clothes. both his ears and tail react to his emotions, tail is semi prehensile. fun fact, when flustered, instead of blushing the fur on his face bristles. his tongue is forked, and shilk has venomous fangs in the back of his mouth. the venom causes hallucinations and minor paralysis. the shadow eyes present in his hair and under his coattails are also gone, his connection to the other realm greatly weakened. they pop back up when he strains himself magically or gets emotional enough

eternal sugar is the only beast with regular hands, instead her legs being much more monstrous. plays more into the duality of angel/devil looks, though she is more of a dragon here, with her hoarding cookies in her sugary paradise. she also has horns and head wings now, playing into it even further (her ears dont have proper earlobes, the head wings work as them, the ear holes are right under the wings). after dejamming, her hair lost the sparkly effect, making her look a bit duller. also, the halo is gone, smashed to pieces while her angel wings got clipped during the dejamming. they are now too weak to fly, just like the dragon wings.

burning spice got some of his traits from the avatar of destruction, namely the whole cat face thing and purple feathers on his forearms. i also think he shouldve had more tiger stripes, they add to his otherwise rather monotone dough (not talking about face, hair or clothes, plus his shoulder guard is gone). the antenna are also mostly low now that his power is mostly gone, but they are reactive to his emotions, plus they perk back up when he does fight and such. it doesnt show here, but his ears are mostly human-like, but clipped for safety and also hidden in his hair.

mystic flour is the biggest out of the all beasts, however she is also rather frail. not like shadow milk though, she can take a hit still. the sensory hairs on her forearms and legs make up for her surprisingly bad eyesight, even though she has additional two pairs of supporting eyes above her eyebrows and on her cheeks. these can only register light though. her ears are immobile in the way human ears are, theyre just really long. the little antennas on top of her head are actually very thin horns, since she has a noodle dragon on her gacha screen i wanted to implement something draconic, but it looked really out of place. so instead she has way more subtle head decor. her dark hands are always cold, and feel very numb most of the time too.

[savanir]

continuation of this thank you again @mynameisjag for the inspiration, this prompt currently has me by the throat

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

The evening is dreary, rain pouring from the skies like tears. Typical Gotham fare to be honest.

This evening was the stage of the latest gala in the crime filled city, another fundraiser for something, or at least pretending to be. 

Vlad brought his dear Madeline as well as Jasmine with him, he was planning to do some light networking but this was also his latest attempt to cheer his sweetheart up. The new experience might distract her a bit.

She had not taken the news well… when the search party found Daniel’s clone corpse in the woods.

It’s been months since the funeral, but her spark for life still has not yet reignited.

And in those past few months Jasmine has seemingly taken over Daniel’s job and has become a most persistent thorn in Vlad’s side, absolutely refusing to let him make any sort of progress with Maddie.

But this evening wasn’t about any of that. There would be no bickering between Vlad and Jazz about him aiding her in finding her lost brother. Not like she even needed his help, she and Daniel’s old friends were probably doing the best job possible in finding the boy.

And it’s not like he could tell her he knew her brother was probably being kept by one of the world's greatest mercenaries. 

Revealing that would open a whole new can of worms he didn’t want to explain.

Maddie was mostly distracted at the gala, staring morosely at Wayne and his brood.

The sight fills Vlad with an insidious sort of anger, the kind that lays heavy and molten on the bottom of your stomach. She better not get it in her head to try and replace one bumbling oaf for the next.

Also… getting rid of a Wayne is apparently a weirdly difficult thing to do… Vlad would rather not bother.

And even though he feels bitter, it is rather nice to see Madeline cheer up when she gets to introduce herself to the boys. Vlad again thinks about his plan of conceiving a new son of their own, not to replace Daniel of course, the boy is irreplaceable but… well, yeah to replace him.

After all, is it really worth it to find Daniel anymore at this point?

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

The gala is uneventful right up until Vlad leaves the main area for a breath of fresh air, hopefully find the designated smoking area and have a cigarette (it’s not like those things can kill him anymore anyway) but on the way there he saw a shadow darting around the corner and he just couldn’t help himself.

If there was any illegal activity afoot, he rather be on top of it himself, that way he’ll know what he can pull and get away with.

It wasn't until he entered a room and promptly got ambushed that he thought that maybe he had walked into a trap of sorts, oh well, nothing Plasmius wouldn’t be able to fix.

Gotham is a city of freaks but none of them are on his power level after all.

Still, precious decisive reaction time got wasted because he’s thinking of an approach that would not result in him having to permanently silence his assailant. Murder is probably rough to cover up in the city that’s home to the world’s greatest detective and bribing the corrupt police force is such a hassle… a scuffle of a mugging/abduction or whatever gone wrong is much easier to explain.

Instead Vlad finds himself tazed, tazed of all things. Perhaps an ecto infused blast into the nearby wall isn’t such a bad idea after all.

But then he finds he can’t access his powers anymore, and a mild sense of dread takes root in his chest.

That taser… it couldn’t have been….

He isn't given much time to think about it as he’s expertly incapacitated and worked against the ground.

Vlad thinks he hears the faintest mutterings, something along the lines of “we do rely too much on our powers” perhaps it’s some veiled insult directed at his current situation. Uncalled for in his opinion…

Of course he struggles, he fights back. His attacker is way smaller than him, lighter and quick with their moves, whomever this is they certainly know what they are doing and Vlad hates to admit it, but without Plasmius he’s actually outmatched.

That leaves plain ol’ shouting for help.

An idea that quickly got snuffed out when a big army knife that crackles with sickly neon green energy gets pressed against his throat and a detonator gets shown off in his assailant’s hand.

“Quiet now, or I’ll blow this place sky high”

“That seems counterproductive” Vlad can’t help but snarl.

“aww, worried about me? there is no need I’ll be just fine, them on the other hand…”

the attacker puts a tablet down that shows a video feed of the main gala area with all the people milling about.

None of them matter to Vlad, but his Madeline and her daughter are there as well, he easily spots them too.

“What do you want, money? I’m sure there are better targets for that out there”

All of a sudden there is a strangely familiar staticy growl in his attacker’s voice, “I want two things from you, I want you to suffer and then I want you to die”

this is personal then… not good.

His attacker takes a moment to more firmly incapacitate Vlad against the floor before redirecting his attention to the video feed on the tablet screen. In the main gala area a big screen of it’s own has come down from the ceiling, usually meant for big fancy presentations (but those had already been carried out for the evening) and was now showing Vlad’s latest illegal activity for all the people to see.

Inside the room people are worriedly looking to and fro, wondering what rogue attack this will lead to, others are already gleefully taking to social media and broadcasting the events happening to the rest of the world.

Personnel are scrambling about to figure out what’s going on, and a couple Wayne’s have now subtly left the area.

“There we go, all out in the open. No more secrets”

Vlad’s eyes darted over the screen in horror.

“I like this right here,” his attacker zooms in on Maddie’s face as she’s realizing in real time that Vlad paid someone to kill her husband, “that’s a good face”

People are looking around and starting to notice Vlad is not among them anymore.

“You cannot possibly expect to get away with this, the Gotham bats are most likely already aware and hunting you down”

“I know-” His attacker shushes, “don’t spoil my fun, at least let me enjoy this show. Even if you somehow manage to get away from me now your life is completely ruined” 

Vlad makes another attempt to escape, growling, “who are you and why are you doing this, how do you even know about half of these things-”

He gets his hands ran through and pinned down fully on the ground with the knives in return.

Vlad figures he must have made some noise but the painful pressure that his assailant keeps on his back is also making it harder to breathe.

“C’mon now, you always boasted about how you’re better and more experienced in every way. Surely you can use that big brain of yours and figure this mystery out, here I’ll help-” the attacker painfully twists his head to the side, “have a look”

It’s dark and the figure is still very much in the shadows but the first thing that catches Vlad’s eyes is the mask over his assailant’s mouth that’s black on the right and orange on the left, a rather obvious hint towards ties with a certain mercenary.

The dark hair styled in that one familiar way brings someone else to mind.

“Daniel”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to twist one of the knives in his hand.

“Don’t call me that”

“Danny-” Vlad doesn’t hesitate to correct even though it does come out rather strangled because of the pain, this is a bad situation and he’s not stupid, “whatever he said-”

there is a faint crackle and it’s only through Vlad’s still slightly enhanced senses that he hears the gruff voice talking to Daniel.

“Wrap it up Memento”

Danny glances at the live feed on the tablet. Proper security is starting to swarm around.

Maddie is holding Jazz close and appears to be talking to someone in charge. One of the Wayne brood has decided to stick with her, the eldest son. How kind of him.

Vlad is still trying to get Danny to listen to him.

Danny sighs, “I kind of wish I could drag this out longer, but this is fine” he twists his knee against Vlad’s neck and now properly restrains Vlad’s legs before pulling out something new.

“This is something my dad was working on before you got him killed, I was planning on sabotaging it and getting rid of the blueprints but... things change”

Danny puts it in the middle of Vlad’s upper back, “I’m sure you’re dying to know what it does. Well, it’s the Fenton Ghost Core Crusher. A bit of a mouthful admittedly. I’m still workshopping a better name, but at the very least the purpose is obvious”

“Daniel-” Vlad is starting to sound like a parent who is realizing that their kid is about to do something dangerous and stupid. It's honestly too bad that he’s not a parent and Danny is not his kid, otherwise it might have actually had it’s intended effect.

“I would have loved to see you deal with the full aftermath and consequences of your horrible choices in life but I don’t really feel like dealing with you as a full ghost so I guess this is it, goodbye forever, it really sucked to have known you”

Vlad has a second to fully regret Deathstroke taking Daniel and not taking it as seriously as he should have and then he’s too busy feeling what must be a supernova and a blackhole manifesting in his chest at the same time somehow.

After that he hears, or perhaps he just feels… a sickening crack and everything fades away.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

There is a corpse at Danny’s feet. It’s Vlad, fully dead, the not coming back kind.

Danny figured he’d feel different, there is some vindication, and the slight satisfaction of a death avenged, but other than that he just feels rather empty, and kind of tired.

Danny doesn’t realize he’s getting a little lost in his head until Slade’s voice cuts through his mental spiral and snaps him out of it.

“Memento, time to move” 

“right”

A part of Danny wants to stay, be found. As he goes invisible and floats right through the ceiling he takes some time to fantasize about it. Would it be a bat? or perhaps one of the security guards checking the rooms, maybe it would even be one of the attendees, they would probably scream once they noticed Vlad on the ground. A security guard would be smarter about the situation, but not by much.

A bat would probably attack him once they realized Vlad was already dead.

Later on they would put a little addendum in their rogue list at Deathstroke’s name, a little side file that’s just for Danny, affiliated with Slade Wilson, name; ???, gender; male, age; somewhere between 14 and 18, threat level; capable of killing people, something like that.

A few buildings away Danny catches up with Slade on the roof.

“Did you have fun? did you get it all out of your system?” Slade folds his arms over his chest.

Danny just growls at him.

“In that case it’s time to move on” The man is already turning away.

Well, Danny can agree on that, so he follows Deathstroke away from the mess he caused at the gala and away from his mother and sister.

And here is my idea for a Deathstroke affiliated Danny

[l4mbh3art]

Eat the batter

In which you just opened a cute little bakery on the same street as Sevika’s Apartment building. She originally went there to check out what you sold, but when she saw you in your pink cute apron wrapped around your perfect body, she knew she’d be a regular.

Cw: Sevika & hyperfemme blk coded reader, ditzy/oblivious!reader, yearner!sevika, slowburn, eventual smut, Strangers to lovers, chubby!reader, cursing (obv), slight modern!au, barely proofread

THE PROLOGUE

May, 16th 7:30 am

You had just got the keys to your bakery yesterday, well it wasn’t one yet. You still had to put your pink sign up along with your shop hours, decorate the inside and outside, and get a menu.

Luckily for you, the last tenant left a shit ton of baking utilities behind so that saved you a bunch. You were happy with the place, wasn’t too big or small and in a perfectly populated area.

Your bakery was right on the corner of the street, the parking being in a little area between it and another store that you couldn’t remember the name of. You wanted to make a cute sign that said “sugar spell parking here!” But you’ll work on that when you had the time. Right now you had to finish grocery shopping for the bakery and pick up some paint from the store.

So far your day has been smooth, no harsh traffic and your outfit coordinated perfectly with the weather. You rung up all your items at the self-checkout, your cart looked like you were shopping for some sort of holiday. You squealed as your card went through, silently thanking your parents for giving you a bit of money to start you off for rent, the bakery, and some supplies.

Your parents always supported your dreams, even when they couldn’t afford it. So you made it your goal to make something out of yourself, for them. They paid for your culinary arts, helped with the down payment on the bakery and even helped you find a cute little house by the shop. You made sure to check in with them at least once a week, updating them on your progress and letting them know their money was going to the right place.

You pushed your cart out to your car, you popped the trunk then proceeded to place the groceries inside of it, closing it shortly after. You pushed the cart inbetween a parking spot then jumped in your car.

Next stop: hardware store. Someone had told you that this store had really good exterior and interior paint so that’s why you were here. You haven’t made any friends yet so you’re honestly going off of luck that this person is stirring you in the right direction.

You walk into the store, the smell of wood stain and fresh paint flooded your nostrils. You grabbed a small cart before going to the paint section. “Looking of anything specific?” A low voice said behind you, your head whipped around to see a staff member, a bit taller than you and had curly hair. She was wearing a band shirt with the neck hole cut out paired with baggy jeans, clipped to the jeans was a heart shaped carabiner with what you assumed was her house keys.

You smiled at her as you immediately picked up what she called you for. “Do you have any pink paint? Like baby doll pink?” You asked as you tilted your head to the side, watching her eyes drift from yours to your double Venus necklace. “Yeah follow me, nice necklace by the way.” She smirked as she showed you where the paint was.

You parked your car in the employee parking of your bakery. You grabbed all the stuff you brought as you opened the car door, then shutting it behind you. You brung all your things inside and got to work, painting the walls of your bakery a soft pink, then following it with green vines that sprouted out flowers.

You wrote your menu in the 2 blackboards above the counter and display, using pink and white chalk for the items and their prices. You used other colors to draw little doodles and flowers, making the design almost childlike. You smiled to yourself as you watched the bakery come together, the 1950 styled seating all the way to the porcelain teacups and plates pulled everything together. You called your parents to check in on them, telling them about how opening day was tomorrow and how much you got done, you could hear your mom squeal over the phone.

You giggled, excusing yourself to hang up as you needed to put up the groceries. Your parents quickly complimented your work before briefly hanging up. You smiled to yourself as you took the rest of the groceries to the kitchen, putting everything in their respective spots. You wiped down the counters and mopped the floor then closed up the kitchen.

You took the same pink paint from inside the bakery and brought it outside, along with a ladder so you could paint the exterior. You started from the roof and worked your way down, changing the songs in your playlist every so often. You let the paint dry before adding finishing touches, like the flowers that worm their way inside the bakery. You set up your shop light before calling it a day, going back inside to put your things away then locking up.

You got in your car and drove home, a nice little house with 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and a basement. It actually wasn’t that far of a drive from the bakery, you could walk there if you wanted to since it was only 15 minutes away by feet. You let out a big sigh as you opened your house door, tossing the keys on a table you had by the door. You walked to your room, throwing your body on the bed tiredly. Today was a long day but you were glad you got a lot done, especially since your grand opening is tomorrow.

You called your friend Emma from back home to tell her about your day, propping the phone up as you got undressed. “So tell me more about Home Depot girl~” she teased as you changed out of your skirt and into some leggings. “There’s nothing about her really, she was just nice and I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.” You said smiling, digging for a shirt in your closet. “Didn’t she compliment your necklace? She was totally hitting on you.” You just rolled your eyes at her antics, finally picking up your phone and laying down on your bed.

“Whatever em, I’m not that interested anyways. I mean i have a whole bakery to manage now.” You said stern but gently and Emma just giggled. “C’mon, you know that would be a piece of cake for you. Get it?” She joked and you just chuckled as you rolled your eyes once more. “That’s enough, I’m hanging up.” You smiled. “Call me when you get ready to open tomorrow! I wanna feel like I’m there!” She said excitedly as she remembered your grand opening. “I will, love ya” “love ya more!” That’s the last you heard of her before you hung up, sighing as you put your phone on the charger. Tomorrow was gonna be a long day..

[paepaerest]

doodle dump and human designs for a particular AU work in progress

These were made in our lord 2024 but only a few months ago, who knows if most of these designs have been revamped lol and here are some thoughts!

Dictatious - I wanted to edge-ify his design in the most simplest way and also make him look kinda endearing. I kept some of his troll form's features (ie: like his weirdly-shaped jawline, "stubble", hair,) and tried to replicate it in his human form in a way that would work, yet make him not look too trollish or too indistinguishable. Excessive piercings as a bonus and a frankenstein-hairdo, he's definitely a nosferatu freak and listens to type o negative/the cure.

Gunmar & Bular - Gunmar has two colored versions where he's in a yellow phase so he wears a yellow shirt and dyes his hair yellow, change his eye-contacts... Vice versa with blue, this change is very prominent and important to the plot but also, not going to lie Gunmar, it's a little gay. I couldn't imagine him with a lighter-skin tone or it would've looked a bit off (as well with the rest of his colours), so I managed to play around with his iconic troll colors while sticking true with how I wanted him to look like. Bular, oh my goodness I was reading The Secret History of Trollkind and there was a panel where Argh had done him some damage to his right upper lip, kinda badass. Had to add it onto his design, as it is very important to the storyline. If you've noticed, I tried to shape their hairstyles to look similar to their troll horns.

Ursuna - I'm a little bias towards her (you'll see a pattern with the others, lol) and she's not going down without feeling pretty. I wanted her beauty to balance with her charismatic 'leadership' and make her someone you'd least expect to be a villian, or already suspect she is one. Yes, she'll do drag. Yes, she is mother. No, I do not support her actions.

Angor Rot - His hair-do following the same inspiration from his troll form's horns, I imagine he'd style his own hairstyle and give himself braids. He's a true entrepreneur, and still is very magical! He carves voodoo stones etc etc, call him a false prophet or call out on his facade... nothing is going to happen, lol (Still, pack up & move out to a new country for good measure!) Someone put him in a retirement home, he is TIRED.

Gremlin - I spy with my little eye, the random french guy behind Gunmar & Bular. He is specifically the gremlin who draws a moustache onto his face while he trolls around with an alphabet kid's toy. (Yeah he has experienced death once)

NotEnrique/Rique - I don't know, I wanted to make him a normal guy. Who looks like a kid, but is actually almost in his 30's with a heavy boston-scottish accent ? he's a punk.

Draal - He has a new design now, but I thought it'd be nice to bring up his older design. Adidas pants, that says it all. Over-competitive and an over-achiever. He doesn't care about trends, just wears whatever is comfortable and it happens to be a brand clothing. I wanted to give him a fur-coat to resemble his troll form's spiky back, and keep his cool prosthetic arm. He's like the Costco guys with his dad but angrier

Kanjigar - A friend said he looked like he'd live in the suburbs. I see it. An arguably good father (that part seems to be controversial), I wanted to give him a Walter White vibe, while he is supposed to represent the Police.

Argh/Arthur - Big guy, build is a little wider and heavier, still has a muscular build, overall he's changed since. He used to have a slimmer, more muscular build when he was still working under Gunmar, call that an improvement. I got inspired by other people's human designs of Argh and HAD to design how I would see Argh. (I had an Argh/Blinky ao3 binge-reading phase, kiwibird being one of them aaah)

Vendel - A majestic wise old man, managed to keep his hair that long for over a decade. Gave him a skirt, he's kinda giving irish I think. In my defense, he had red-hair when he was younger. (Shown in The Secret History of Trollkind or The Felled !) Treatable hunchback and skin cancer, he and the hospital bill are opps. Does a lot of good for his community.

Speaking of fanfics, i plan to reread the one that heavily influenced me!!! and to know where I'm getting at please read below: the real thing

[ceyanabbiolo]

PHOTOGRAPH // M.S [15]

Summary: Daphne Denoire, a 21-year-old, returns to Boston after 3 years—but working for her brother’s best friend, Matthew Sturniolo, wasn’t part of the plan. He’s a 26-year-old multimillionaire. She’s the girl he was never supposed to feel this way about. With secrets between them and boundaries set, how far will they go for a love they never saw coming?

Warnings: smut (not crazy detailed)

wc: 8306

Chapter 15: No. 1 Party Anthem

By the time the second week of March rolled around, life had settled into a rhythm again.

I was working steadily and attending therapy each week without missing a session. There was a quiet steadiness in my days that I hadn’t felt in a long time—one that didn’t feel fragile or borrowed.

Things with Matt were good. Really good. We hadn’t defined what we were, but there was a comfort between us now—gentle, constant, and slowly building. He didn’t push, and I didn’t run. That was progress in itself.

Noah had only visited once in the last three months, and even then, it was a short trip. He was busy, and I think part of him was trying to give me space—even if he didn’t say it out loud. Still, every call ended with a reminder: “Let me know if somethings wrong.”

I always replied with a smile he couldn’t see: “I will.”

On a chilly Wednesday afternoon, I stood by the studio window, camera in hand, just looking outside. 

And then Matt walked in.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just shrugged off his jacket, glanced over at me, and smiled.

“I booked us a weekend away,” he said, setting his keys down. “We could use a break.”

“Oh?” I said, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Where are you taking us?”

“A cottage,” he replied, stepping closer. “The weather’s finally decent, so I figured we could get away for a bit. Just us. Somewhere quiet.”

He leaned against the edge of the table, watching my expression carefully like he was gauging whether it was too much.

I lowered my camera slowly. “When?”

“This weekend. I already cleared your schedule with your manager,” he said, and when I raised a brow, he smirked. “You’re welcome.”

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “You’re technically my manager.”

“Fair,” he added, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “But, You’ve been working nonstop. I just want us to breathe for a bit. No pressure, no noise—just you and me.”

That made something in my chest flutter. His voice was low, steady, and it calmed me in ways I didn’t know I still needed.

The weekend came quickly and by the time I knew it we were in Matt's car, on our 4 hour drive, up north. The car was driving smoothly, as we passed through the woods any everything.

“Hey,” I said gently, glancing over at him as the trees passed by outside. “Why’d you leave so abruptly last night?”

Matt let out a quiet sigh, his jaw tightening slightly. “Chris’s fiancée’s dad got arrested.”

My eyes widened. “Wait—what? For what?”

He ran a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on the road. “Turns out he was stealing from Chris. Has been for a while. Some kind of long-term fraud tied to the family accounts.”

I blinked, stunned. “Oh my Gosh... Is Aurora okay?”

Aurora Devereaux. The fiancée. We’d been messaging back and forth lately. Matt had connected us—he’d offered me the chance to be the photographer for a fashion show she was working on. She was in her final year of fashion design, filthy rich, and basically from the same world as Matt.

Matt gave a small shrug, lips pressing together. “Not really. Things with her and Chris… kind of fell apart.”

He glanced at me briefly, then back to the road. “You know how Chris is. He says shit when he’s angry—pushes people away without thinking. Last night didn’t go well.”

I stayed quiet for a second, trying to process it all. “So... are they breaking up?”

“Well, the engagement is off,” Matt said honestly. “I think he insulted her in some way, not fully sure.”

I exhaled softly, sinking deeper into my seat. “Poor Aurora.”

“Yeah,” Matt muttered. “She looked heartbroken.”

I squeezed Matt’s hand gently.

“You okay?” I asked.

He gave me a tired smile. “Yeah. Just… makes you think, y’know? How fast shit can fall apart.”

I didn’t say anything. I just leaned my head lightly against his shoulder, and he didn’t pull away.

Matt glanced over at me, his hand still resting on the gear shift. “You’re still doing that gig for Aurora, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I am. Actually… I’m kind of excited about it.”

His brow lifted slightly, like he was surprised.

“She’s been really sweet over messages,” I added. “I mean, I know she’s probably dealing with a lot right now, but she’s still been super professional. I think it’ll be nice to meet her in person.”

Matt gave a small smile. “She’ll probably love you. She’s really nice”

I shrugged. “We’ll see. It’s a big deal for her—her final year show and everything. I just want to do a good job.”

“You will,” he said, squeezing my hand. “You’ve been great for me so far.” 

We fell into a comfortable silence again, the kind that settled easily between us now. The road stretched out ahead, winding through trees dusted in fading snow.

After a few minutes, Matt spoke again. “By the way… Noah’s coming back Monday evening.”

I turned my head toward him, surprised. “Really? I thought he wasn’t supposed to visit until April.”

“Yeah, me too,” Matt said, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “He said something came up at work in Boston and figured he might as well stay for a few days.” 

I nodded slowly, processing. “Did he say anything else?”

Matt gave a half-shrug. “Not much. Just asked if you’ve been okay. He always asks.”

I smiled faintly. “That sounds like him.”

“That’s why I planned the trip for the weekend,” Matt said, his tone casual but purposeful. “Would’ve stayed longer if he wasn’t coming back so soon.”

“Makes sense,” I murmured, leaning back into my seat, the motion of the car lulling me slightly.

A gentle silence settled between us, stretched out by the soft hum of tires on asphalt.

“Sweetheart.”

I turned my head slightly, eyes still on the window. “Yeah?”

He hesitated for just a second. “We should tell him.”

I groaned quietly, my head tilting back. “Matt…”

“I know,” he said gently, his voice calm but firm. “But I really think we should. We’ve been tiptoeing around it for months.”

I stayed quiet, chewing the inside of my cheek.

“It’s not just some fling,” he continued, glancing over at me. “This—us—it means something. To me. I don’t want to keep hiding it like we’re doing something wrong.”

I looked at him, heart pounding a little harder. “He’s not going to be happy.”

“I know,” Matt said. “But he’s your brother, not your warden. You're an adult Daphne, I don’t think he should care this much about who you date.”

I lowered my gaze, fingers playing with the edge of my sleeve. Part of me wanted to believe him. Part of me still felt twelve years old and terrified of disappointing the only family I had left.

“I’m scared,” I whispered.

Matt reached over and took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

“I know,” he said again, softer this time. “But I’ve got you. No matter how it goes.”

“I just… I don’t want him to think I’m taking something from him again,” I said quietly.

Matt’s brows pulled together as he glanced over at me. “What do you mean by that?”

The weight of what I’d said hit me a second too late, and I immediately tried to redirect.

“You know,” I said quickly, “he’s your best friend. I just… I don’t want him to feel like I’m trying to take you away from him.”

Matt glanced at me, his expression soft but steady. “He is my best friend, Daphne. But you’re my girlfriend.”

He paused, letting the words settle.

“Yeah, I’ve known him longer. We’ve been through a lot. But with you…”—his voice dipped, slower, more certain—“I see my future.”

My breath caught.

For a second, I couldn’t look at him. My face warmed, eyes fixed on the dashboard as if it might offer a way out of the sudden flood of emotion rising in my chest.

“I—uh…” I started, fumbling with my sleeves, “You can’t just say things like that while I’m sitting here trying to be chill.”

Matt chuckled under his breath, clearly amused. “I’m just being honest.”

I peeked at him, heart fluttering. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“You. Saying things like that... while driving in a car… in the middle of nowhere… while I’m defenseless.”

He grinned. “Defenseless, huh?”

I swatted his arm lightly, laughing despite myself.

“I mean it,” he added, more quietly this time. “You don’t have to be afraid of taking anything from anyone. You’re not stealing me away. I’m giving myself to you.”

Just like that, I was speechless again.

“So…” I said slowly, trying to sound casual even though my heart was pounding. “You’d marry me?”

Matt let out a soft laugh, glancing at me like I’d asked the most obvious question in the world. “You really think I wouldn’t?”

I bit back a smile. “You think I’m… wife material?”

He looked at me for a long second before turning his eyes back to the road, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I think you’re everything material,” he said quietly. “Wife, partner, best friend—all of it. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t see something with you.”

My throat tightened, warmth blooming all through my chest. I looked down at our hands, still intertwined between us.

“You mean that?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Matt nodded. “I’ve never meant anything more.”

I didn’t know what to say. My heart felt full and fragile all at once. So instead of speaking, I just squeezed his hand. 

He glanced at me again, softer this time. “You don’t have to believe it all right now. I’ll keep showing you until you do.”

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe—just a little—that maybe I could have something good. Something lasting. Someone who wanted me.

“This lake is beautiful, Matt,” I said, pressing my hand to the window. “Look!”

I pointed toward the far end of the shore, where a small group of ducks waddled along the edge, their reflections rippling across the still water.

He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he looked over my shoulder. The view from the cottage was straight out of a postcard—tall pines lining the lake, soft patches of melting snow, and the faint glimmer of sunlight breaking through the clouds.

The place felt like it had been waiting for us.

“It’s perfect,” I murmured, leaning back into his chest. “I love it here already.”

He kissed the side of my head. “Good. I was hoping you would.”

The cottage was warm inside, all wood and soft lighting, with a stone fireplace and thick blankets draped over the couch. Everything smelled faintly of cedar and pine, and it made me want to never leave.

“I feel like I can breathe out here,” I whispered.

Matt rested his chin on my shoulder. “That’s the point.”

“You know,” I said with a small smile, “you weirdly give off cottage guy energy.”

Matt raised an eyebrow, amused. “Cottage guy?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Like… I could totally see you vanishing one day to live in the woods with a beard and  fire wood.”

He chuckled, then shrugged. “Honestly? I can see that too. One of these days, I might just disappear into the trees and start a quiet life out here.”

I giggled, nudging him with my shoulder. “No, don’t disappear.”

He looked down at me, smirking. “I wouldn’t go without you.”

I felt my heart skip, a little flutter catching in my chest.

“I’d take you with me,” he added, placing a kiss on my cheek, voice softer now . “We’d build our own little world. Just you, me, a lake, and no one to bother us.”

I leaned into him, eyes still on the water outside. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

Matt pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “It sounds like peace.”

“Okay—okay—stop moving so much, you’re going to tip us!” I shrieked, gripping the sides of the canoe as it wobbled dangerously.

Matt burst out laughing, his paddle held at an awkward angle. “I’m literally sitting still!”

“You’re rocking the entire lake!”

“It’s a canoe, not a cruise ship, Daphne.”

I doubled over, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. The late afternoon sun glinted off the water, and the cold air made my cheeks ache, but I couldn’t stop. Everything felt funny—too funny. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the fact that we hadn’t slept much, or maybe it was just us.

“I swear to God if we fall in, you’re sleeping on the porch tonight,” I managed through giggles.

“Joke’s on you,” he said, grinning. “I’d survive out there. I’m a cottage guy now, remember?”

“Oh my Gosh, shut up—” I lost it again, covering my face with my hands as the canoe drifted slightly off course.

Matt leaned back dramatically, throwing his arms out. “Just let the lake take us! Maybe this is how we start our new life. We drift to a secret island and build a log cabin and live off fish and berries.”

“You wouldn’t even know what berries are safe to eat!”

“I’d test them on you first.”

I smacked his leg with my paddle, laughing breathlessly. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he said proudly.

The canoe finally steadied, the laughter fading into soft breaths as we drifted in the middle of the lake. The sky was turning golden, the reflection rippling around us. I looked at him, still smiling, and saw it mirrored in his eyes—light and something else. Something tender.

“Okay, but wait,” I said between breathless giggles. “If we did live off the land, what would you even do? You can’t cook. You thought thyme was seaweed last week.”

Matt gasped, overly offended. “For the record, I can cook—”

“Burning toast doesn’t count—”

“Excuse me, I made you that pasta—”

“Which was still crunchy—”

“I was going for al dente!” he cried, and I burst into laughter again, clutching my stomach as the canoe bobbed under us.

We were caught in the kind of laughter that made your ribs ache, the kind you don’t even realize is echoing across a lake until the silence afterward feels louder than it should.

I was still laughing when I turned my head and suddenly froze.

“Wait—Matt.”

He looked over, mid-joke, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Matt!”

And then—

Thud.

The canoe slammed against a half-submerged rock, jolting hard to the left. Everything tilted.

“Oh—shit—Daph—!”

I shrieked, grabbing onto the edge too late as the canoe tipped completely, sending both of us plunging into the icy lake.

The cold hit like a slap, stealing the breath from my lungs. I surfaced with a gasp, hair plastered to my face, and whipped around just in time to see Matt come up, sputtering, his curls dripping.

“You hit a rock!” I yelled through a laugh, trying to dog-paddle in place as the canoe floated upside down beside us.

“You distracted me!” he shot back, coughing and grinning.”

I burst out laughing again, even as I shivered. “This is your fault!” 

Matt swam over and looped an arm around me, teeth chattering. “It’s definitely not my fault. But if we die of hypothermia, at least we die together.”

I coughed through a laugh, shivering as I clung to him. “Okay, Jack. Just don’t let go.”

He cracked up, nearly slipping underwater again. “This isn’t Titanic”

“I am Rose in this situation,” I said dramatically. “Only freezing, sarcastic, and way less glamorous.”

“I hate to break it to you,” he said, pulling us closer to the dock, “but there’s no door big enough for both of us.”

“Oh my God, you would be the guy who lets me freeze while you stretch out and hog the whole damn door.”

“Hey,” he grinned, helping lift me up onto the edge of the dock. “At least I didn’t make us crash into the iceberg.”

I shivered as I flopped onto the wood, soaked and breathless. “It was a rock, Jack. A very stupid rock.”

He pulled himself up beside me, dripping and still laughing. “Don’t worry, I’d die for you Daphne.”

Matt handed me a thick towel the second we got inside, still dripping wet and tracking little puddles across the wooden floor.

“Maybe canoeing just isn’t for us,” he muttered, wrapping another towel around my shoulders himself and tucking it snugly under my arms. His fingers lingered there, gentle and warm despite how cold we both were.

I looked up at him, shivering but smiling. “You think?”

He smirked, brushing a soaked curl from my forehead. “Next time we’re building a snowman. Much safer.”

I let out a soft laugh as he guided me toward the kitchen, both of us wrapped like burritos in our mismatched towels. Everything was still a little damp, including our socks, but the inside of the cottage felt extra warm now in contrast to the lake’s icy bite.

Our pre-packed lunch sat on the counter where we’d left it—two sandwiches wrapped in parchment and a half-eaten bag of kettle chips.

“Gourmet post-near-death meal,” Matt said, hopping up onto the kitchen island with a dramatic sigh. He patted the space beside him. “Join me, Rose.” 

I rolled my eyes, but climbed up beside him, our towels brushing as we sat side by side, legs dangling over the edge.

I glanced over at Matt out of the corner of my eye. He wasn’t saying much, just watching me—really watching me—with that calm, steady look that made my heart skip.

His eyes traced the way my hair stuck to my damp forehead, the soft curve of my cheek flushed from the cold, the way I nibbled on my sandwich shyly.

It was like he was memorizing every little detail, committing me to memory without a single word.

I felt a warmth spread through me—different from the heat of the fire or the towels wrapped around us. It was something deeper, something quiet but fierce.

Matt smiled softly, almost to himself, and I knew I was the only one who saw it.

As I finished the last bite of my sandwich, Matt nudged me lightly with his knee.

“Wanna hit the hot tub?” he asked casually, like it wasn’t a big deal at all.

I looked over at him, surprised. “Now?”

He grinned. “Yeah. It’s dark out, barely anyone is around. The stars are out too. Feels like the perfect time.”

I hesitated for a second, but the idea of warm water after falling into a freezing lake sounded heavenly. I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

After tossing our towels onto the hooks near the back door, we both headed to the deck. The sky had dimmed into a soft navy blue, and the hot tub steamed gently in the cold air, glowing faintly from the underwater lights.

Matt didn’t hesitate. He pulled his shirt off in one motion, then shimmied out of his sweatpants, revealing dark swim briefs—fitted, of course. The kind that left little to the imagination.

I blinked and looked away quickly, heat rushing to my cheeks. He looked completely unbothered, stretching his arms like this was just another regular night.

Meanwhile, I stood frozen, towel still wrapped tight around me.

“You good?” Matt asked, glancing over his shoulder with a raised brow.

“Yeah,” I replied a little too quickly.

He didn’t move, just studied me for a second, his expression softening.

“It’s just me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, voice warm and careful.

“Huh?” I blinked, caught off guard by how gentle he sounded.

My heart was beating fast, and I could feel the heat crawling up my neck. I knew he wasn’t pushing—but still, there was this weight in my chest I couldn’t shake.

The truth was, I’d always been self-conscious about my body—especially my chest. I was blessed in that area, sure, but that only made me more aware of myself. Of how people looked. Of how clothes fit. Of how exposed I felt in anything that showed skin.

I hesitated for a second longer, the cool night air brushing against my legs.

Matt wasn’t rushing me. He didn’t even step closer—he just waited, giving me the space to move at my own pace.

So I took a breath.

Then, slowly, I loosened the towel from around my body and put it on the rack. I stood there in my shorts and oversized button-up, still stalling, still unsure.

But his eyes never wandered. They didn’t linger or roam or make me feel small. He just… looked at me. Like I was normal. Like I was me.

I slipped off my shorts, then the oversized shirt. The bikini underneath felt like paper, barely there, but I stood a little straighter.

Matt offered me a hand, his smile calm and steady. “Come here,” he said quietly.

I placed my hand in his, and together, we stepped into the hot tub. The steam rose around us, curling into the cool night air, and the moment my body sank beneath the surface, a deep warmth wrapped around me like a blanket.

The water was perfect—hot enough to soothe, to melt the chill still clinging to my skin, to calm the nerves buzzing quietly in my chest.

We settled across from each other, legs brushing slightly under the water, the glow from the soft lights inside the tub casting a golden hue over Matt’s skin. His hair was still damp from the lake, a little messy, a little perfect.

He leaned back, arms stretched along the edge behind him, eyes on me.

“Feel better?” he asked.

I nodded slowly, letting my shoulders sink into the warmth. 

Matt’s lips curved into a small smile. “Good.”

A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the gentle ripple of water and the distant sound of wind rustling through the trees. The stars above were scattered and soft, and for once, I didn’t feel self-conscious. I just felt here. 

I watched the steam swirl up into the night sky, the water gently lapping against my arms. For a while, we didn’t say anything—just let the quiet sit between us, easy and unforced.

I shifted a little in the water, letting my fingers trace lazy circles across the surface before glancing over at him.

“Can I ask you something?” I murmured.

Matt looked at me, eyes warm. “Of course.”

I hesitated, chewing on my bottom lip before saying, “Do you ever worry we’re too different?”

His brows drew together slightly, not with concern—more like curiosity.

“Different how?”

“I don’t know…” I said, shrugging lightly. “You’re confident. Outgoing. You’ve been in relationships. You know how to handle people.”

Matt was quiet for a beat, eyes never leaving mine.

Then he said, “I don’t see those as differences that pull us apart. I think they’re why we work.”

I blinked, caught off guard.

He leaned in slightly, his voice steady but soft. “You feel everything, even when it hurts. And you care so deeply, even if you don’t always know how to say it.”

He squeezed my hand gently beneath the water.

“You make me slow down. You make me think. You make me want to be better. That’s not a bad difference. That’s balance.”

My chest tightened at his words.

“You’re not too quiet,” he added, his thumb brushing against my knuckles. “You’re just used to people not listening the right way.” 

I swallowed, my throat thick with emotion. “And you do?”

He smiled, just a little. “Every word.”

His words settled over me like warmth, sinking deeper than the hot water ever could. I looked at him for a long moment, trying to memorize the softness in his eyes, the way he always seemed to know exactly what I needed to hear—even when I didn’t know I needed it.

I exhaled slowly. “How are you like this?” I asked, half-laughing. “The way you just… see people.”

Matt tilted his head slightly, gaze drifting up toward the sky. “I guess I had to learn. Early.”

I turned toward him more, my hand still resting in his beneath the water.

“You mean with your family?” I asked gently.

“I don’t like making it seem like I had it rough,” he said quietly. “I mean—look at how we grew up. We had money. Opportunities. A last name that opened doors before we even learned how to knock.”

He paused, fingers brushing the surface of the water.

“But that doesn’t mean it was… easy.”

I stayed silent, letting him keep going.

“My dad—he was intense. Charming in public, ruthless in private. Everything was about image. Being polished. Being perfect. He didn’t want sons—he wanted successors.”

Matt’s voice was calm, but I could hear the weight behind it. Years of it.

“We were kids trying to be versions of men we hadn’t even become yet. He expected everything. Success. Control. No mistakes. And when he died…” Matt swallowed, glancing at the stars. “It wasn’t grief that hit first. It was pressure. Like now it was our job to carry the weight of everything he built. The name, the company, the legacy. All of it.”

His thumb traced over mine beneath the water again, slower this time.

“I never really got to figure out who I was outside of all that. I just kept showing up, playing the part, saying the right thing. Because that’s what was expected of me.”

I felt my chest ache for him—really ache.

“Matt…” I whispered.

He looked at me then, and the look in his eyes nearly unraveled me.

“But with you…” he said. “I don’t feel like I have to pretend.”

My throat tightened, tears threatening at the edges.

“You don’t,” I whispered. “Not with me.”

He didn’t say anything back. He just looked at me like no one ever had before.

And at that moment, I didn’t see the model. Or the name. Or the polished mask he wore for the world.

I saw him.

Just Matt.

We stayed like that for a long time. Talking. Listening. Sometimes falling into quiet stretches that didn’t feel awkward—just full.

Matt told me more about his brothers, how he sometimes felt like the middleman between their arguments. How hard it was to be the one that kept everything glued together without showing the cracks in himself. How success sometimes felt hollow, like he was achieving things for a version of himself that didn’t exist anymore.

I told him how I used to imagine disappearing when things got too loud in my head. How even now, with everything going so well, I still sometimes felt like I was waiting for it all to fall apart.

We didn’t try to fix anything. We just sat in it together.

And that was enough.

Eventually, my fingers started to prune, and the steam around us thinned in the night air. The sky had gone fully dark now, stars scattered like freckles across the velvet.

Matt stretched his arms over the side of the tub and glanced at me with a tired smile. “I think we’ve officially become raisins.”

I laughed softly, my voice quieter now, the mood having mellowed into something softer. “I’m warm though”

He grinned, pushing himself up and climbing out with ease, water cascading off him as he reached for one of the towels we’d left nearby.

He held it open for me, and I stepped into it, letting him wrap it around me.

We were both still quiet, not because we didn’t have anything to say—but because we’d already said so much.

Once inside, the heat of the cottage hit us like a wave. It was a comforting warmth, smelling faintly of cedar and something familiar. We padded toward the bedroom, water trailing from our legs, towels clinging to our skin.

“Go shower first,” he murmured, brushing a wet curl off my cheek. “I’ll find you something warm to wear.”

I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips as I turned toward the bathroom, heart full, body relaxed, and for the first time in what felt like forever… I felt safe.

With him.

And with myself.

By the time I stepped out of the shower, my skin was pink from the heat and the towel Matt had left for me smelled like him—clean, woodsy, familiar.

I found him in the fireplace room, already in a pair of gray sweats and a long-sleeved black tee, hair still damp and curling at the edges. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a golden glow across the walls. The lights were low, just a single warm lamp in the corner, and the whole room felt like something out of a dream.

The couch wasn’t just a couch—it was one of those oversized, deep-set ones that felt more like a bed. He’d already thrown on extra pillows and a thick blanket, the kind that swallows you whole.

He looked up when he saw me walk in, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out a hand. “Come here.”

I crossed the room without a word, still in the sweatshirt he’d left out for me—it hung down to mid-thigh, sleeves covering my hands, making me feel small and tucked in.

I climbed onto the couch beside him and immediately sank into the pillows. Matt pulled the blanket over both of us and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close until my head was resting on his chest and his fingers found mine again.

The fire popped gently, the only sound in the room aside from our quiet breaths.

The fire had burned low now, just glowing embers crackling gently in the hearth. The room was wrapped in a golden hush, the kind of silence that only comes when it’s late enough for the world to feel like it’s paused.

Matt’s chest rose and fell slowly beneath my cheek. His arm was still around me, his hand lazily tracing slow, soothing patterns along my spine under the blanket.

Neither of us had spoken in a while, but the silence wasn’t empty. It was warm. Full.

Then I felt him shift slightly, his voice barely a breath above a whisper.

“I used to think I wasn’t built for this.”

I tilted my head, looking up at him in the dim light. “For what?”

He looked down at me, his features soft and serious. “This. Being close to someone. Letting someone actually see me.”

My heart ached in that quiet, aching way. I didn’t say anything—just waited, letting him keep going.

“I always thought… I’d mess it up. Or get bored. Or run the second it felt real,” he said. “But then you came back. And I didn’t want to run anymore.”

My chest tightened.

He gave a breath of a laugh, almost nervous. “That’s how I knew it wasn’t just something passing. You made me want to stay.”

I blinked, my throat thick.

“Matt…” I whispered.

His hand came up, fingertips brushing my jaw as gently as a breath. “Yeah?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

He leaned in.

And kissed me.

It started slow—tender. Careful. His lips moved against mine with quiet certainty, like he was memorizing the shape of me, learning me all over again in this new space between us.

My fingers found his shirt, curling lightly in the fabric as I leaned into him, melting into the warmth of his body, his touch.

He deepened the kiss just slightly, his hand moving from my jaw to the side of my neck, thumb brushing against my pulse. It made my breath catch—something about the way he touched me like I was fragile, but also like he couldn’t get close enough.

Something in my heart shifted.

It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t overwhelming. It was quiet—like a door creaking open after being locked for years.

I looked at him. Really looked at him.

The way his hand held the side of my face like I was something precious. The way his eyes searched mine—not with hunger, but with care. With patience. Maybe love. 

I felt the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm, and this calm certainty washed over me.

I wanted him.

Not just physically.

I wanted this. With him.

Not because I felt like I had to, or to prove anything—not to myself, not to anyone.

But because it finally felt right. Because I trusted him. Because after everything, he made me feel safe again… in my body, in my silence, in my heart.

I breathed in slowly, that familiar twinge of fear still faint in the back of my mind—but it didn’t control me anymore.

It didn’t define this moment.

I lifted my hand, brushing a damp curl off his forehead.

“Matt,” I whispered, my voice steadier now.

He looked at me, eyes flickering with something softer—like he could already feel the shift too.

“I think…” I paused, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt. “I’m ready.”

He stilled, searching my face carefully.

“For what?”

I swallowed, eyes never leaving his. “For us… to go all the way.”

His face changed instantly, staring at me.

Matt brought a hand to my cheek, eyes softening only with emotion, not expectation.

“Are you sure?” His voice was soft, every word laced with care and tenderness, as if he was holding something fragile between them.

I swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment, and nodded slowly. My voice was barely more than a breath. “Yes. I want it to be with you.”

He exhaled slowly, the tension in his body finally releasing, like he’d been holding his breath for far too long.

“Sweetheart,” he said gently, his tone wrapping around me like a warm embrace, “this is such a huge step for you. I need you to be completely certain—because I would never want to rush you.”

Before he could say more, I reached up cupping his cheek, my words coming quickly, almost desperate to be understood. “No, Matt… I want this. I want it with you. But only if you want it too–”

In an instant, he pulled me close, his hands steady and sure on my waist, grounding me. His eyes searched mine, full of honest emotion.

“No, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with feeling. “Of course I want this—with you. You don’t even know how much I've thought about this. But I want you to trust me.”

“I do trust you” 

He took my hand that was cupping his cheek and held it. “You sure?” 

Matt’s eyes softened even more as he cupped my face gently. “I’ll take care of you, okay? If at any moment you want to stop—if anything feels too much—you tell me, and we stop.”

His voice was steady, full of promise, and I believed him completely.

Slowly, he shifted, sitting me up carefully so I was straddling his lap. His hands moved to support my back, holding me close but giving me space to breathe, to move, to decide.

“You’re in control,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine. “This is your choice, your moment.”

The warmth from his breath brushed my cheek, calming the fluttering nerves inside me.

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath me.

When I opened them again, all I saw was trust.

His lips met mine once more, soft and lingering, each kiss slow and deliberate. When his mouth finally left mine, it trailed down to the sensitive curve of my neck, sending a shiver through me.

First, my sweatshirt slipped off, and I felt a small comfort knowing I was already wearing my bikini underneath, making the bra feel familiar and safe.

Then, carefully, he peeled off his shirt, revealing the warmth of his skin beneath.

One by one, my sweatpants followed, sliding down to reveal the smooth skin beneath, and then his sweatpants came off as well, leaving us both bare. 

I glanced down and saw the evidence of his desire—he was already hard beneath me, and I could feel it clearly.

“Can I take this off?” he asked softly, his fingers lightly tugging at the strap of my bra.

I hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod.

Slowly and carefully, he peeled the bra away, leaving me completely exposed to him. My nipples were now fully visible, sensitive and vulnerable. He looked down at me for a beat, then lifted his gaze back to mine, his eyes full of admiration.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “So, so beautiful.”

Then, tenderly, he placed gentle kisses on each one, sending warmth and tenderness through me. It felt really nice. 

Slowly, he eased me down onto the soft surface beneath us, his lips trailing gentle kisses along my skin as he moved lower.

“I want to take my time with you, baby,” he whispered close to my ear. “I want to help you relax, so it won’t hurt as much.”

I nodded softly, my voice barely a breath. “Okay.”

His fingers traced a slow path down my body, every movement deliberate and tender.

With each step, he paused to look up at me, his eyes searching mine. “Is this okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”

His fingers moved gently over me, and I couldn’t hold back the soft sounds escaping my lips. At first, it felt ticklish—new and unfamiliar, since no one had ever touched me there before. But as I began to relax, the sensations deepened into something warm and unexpectedly wonderful.

I could feel the shift in him—gentle, careful—as he pulled back slightly, his hands moving to the waistband of his underwear.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmured softly, voice almost reverent.

He slid them down and off, and in the quiet glow of the firelight, he stood before me—completely bare. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him, a soft gasp slipping from my lips.

He was beautiful. Strong, yes, but the tenderness in his eyes was what made my chest ache the most.

Matt leaned over me, lowering himself with a kind of reverence, his hand coming up to cradle my cheek.

“You okay?” he whispered, his forehead nearly touching mine.

I nodded, eyes wide but calm, heart racing—but not from fear. From trust. From something real.

“Tell me if anything’s too much,” he said, brushing a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

Then, slowly, he reached down, guiding himself, carefully lining up with me, his other hand still holding my face like he needed to keep me grounded in his touch.

Every movement was patient.

Measured.

“Matt,” I whispered, my voice small but steady.

He looked at me instantly, our faces only inches apart, his eyes searching mine with full attention.

“Yeah?”

I took a breath, my heart thudding in my chest.

“You don’t have to go slow,” I said quietly. “I just… I want you to push in.”

His brows knit with concern, hesitating. “Daph…”

“I mean it,” I murmured. “I’m ready.”

Even as I said it, something stirred deep in me—something old and buried. A flicker of a memory that tried to push its way in. A moment from the past that had once stolen this choice from me.

But this wasn’t that.

The air felt different. He was different.

Back then, I felt powerless. Small. Trapped.

But now—I was choosing this. I wanted this. I wanted him.

I felt safe. I felt seen.

Matt’s hand tightened gently around mine, his thumb brushing across my knuckles. He didn’t move yet—he just looked at me, carefully, like he could read every flicker in my expression.

“You sure?” he asked again, voice low and filled with something deeper than lust. “I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

I nodded slowly, my eyes never leaving his.

“I trust you, Matt.”

And that trust was everything.

He kissed me—soft, steady, and grounding. 

Then, with one final breath shared between us, he moved.

One deep push.

A sharp gasp escaped me as pain shot through my core—intense and unfamiliar. A hiss slipped from my lips, my eyes stinging with sudden tears.

It hurt. More than I expected.

Above me, Matt let out a low, strained groan, clearly holding himself back, fighting every instinct to move.

His hand immediately moved to my face, gently tucking strands of hair away as his thumb brushed over my temple. Soft, steady. Grounding.

“Shhh… I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice laced with concern. “You’re okay, sweetheart. Just breathe. We’ll go slow. You tell me when you’re ready, alright?”

I nodded faintly, focusing on the rhythm of his voice, the tenderness in his touch.

Despite the pain, I didn’t feel afraid.

I felt held. 

Safe.

And slowly, as my body adjusted and the ache began to ease, I tightened my fingers around his and whispered, “Okay… you can move now.”

He placed a kiss on my forehead. 

Then, he moved with care—each motion patient and filled with meaning. 

He held me close, our bodies pressed together, the heat of him wrapped around me completely. Every movement was slow, careful, as if he was learning me with each breath.

Soft moans slipped from both of us, tangled in the quiet flicker of the firelight.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin, his voice low and full of warmth. “So good for me… you feel incredible.”

His lips brushed my shoulder, then my collarbone, murmuring praise between each kiss.

“I’ve got you,” he said again, over and over, like a promise. “You’re safe with me… so perfect, baby.”

Every word anchored me. His hands never left me—one cradling the back of my head, the other gripping my waist like he couldn’t bear to let go, and as our bodies moved together, I let myself feel everything.

“Matt…” I gasped, breath shaky. “I—I think I’m close.”

He looked down at me, eyes full of warmth and something deeper. His grip on my waist tightened just slightly, grounding me.

“Yeah?” he whispered, voice rough with emotion. “It’s okay, baby. Let go. I’m right here.”

His pace stayed steady, but I could hear it in his breathing—he was close too.

“I’m not gonna last much longer either,” he murmured, forehead resting against mine. “Wanna feel you, sweetheart… I wanna come with you.”

And then, everything swelled—heat, pressure, the sounds between us—and I fell over the edge, pulling him with me.

We came together in a wave of breathless moans and trembling limbs, hearts racing, hands clutching, mouths brushing skin like we couldn’t bear to be apart.

We stayed like that—our bodies tangled, chests rising and falling in uneven rhythm. My skin was warm, slick with sweat, but I didn’t want to move. I reached for him, fingers slipping into his damp hair, and gently pulled him against me, guiding his head to rest on my chest.

His soft, shallow breaths tickled my skin, matching the pace of mine, both of us coming down from something bigger than just the physical.

For a moment, it was quiet—then he shifted slightly, lifting his head to look at me.

“Are you okay?” he asked quickly, eyes full of concern. “Did I hurt you? Was it too much? You can tell me, Daphne—please tell me.”

I blinked up at him, still catching my breath. His voice was full of so much worry, it almost made me tear up.

“I’m okay,” I whispered. “I promise.”

But that didn’t stop him.

“Are you sure? Do you feel alright? Was it… what you wanted? Do you need water? Or food? Or—God, I should’ve gone slower, I just—”

“Matt,” I cut him off gently, smiling as I cupped his cheek. “I’m okay. Really.”

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against mine. “You scared me for a second when you got quiet. I wanted it to feel good.”

“It did,” I murmured, brushing my thumb over his cheek. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His shoulders dropped slightly in relief, and he kissed my palm before wrapping his arms around me again, pulling me close like he didn’t want to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered.  

After a while, the quiet settled around us like a blanket. The fire was still glowing low, casting flickers of light across the room, but my body had started to come down from the high—replaced now by an aching soreness I hadn’t fully anticipated.

I shifted slightly and winced.

Matt noticed instantly.

“Hey,” he said gently, propping himself up on one elbow. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, though my expression said otherwise. “Just… sore.”

Concern washed over his face. “Okay. No more moving, then.”

Before I could say anything else, he was already standing up and reaching for me. “Wait—Matt,” I murmured, but he just gave me a soft look.

With careful hands, he slid one arm beneath my back and the other under my knees, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling small and safe in his arms.

“You don’t have to carry me,” I whispered, though secretly… I didn’t want him to stop.

He smiled as he held me close, leaving no protest,  “Be quiet.”

He carried me through the cottage, into the bathroom where warm towels and soft light made everything feel even cozier. He set me down gently on the edge of the tub, kissed the top of my head, and ran the warm water.

The whole time, he stayed close—helping me clean up with careful, respectful touches, asking if I was okay, if anything hurt too much, if I needed anything.

And later, when we were finally tucked back into bed, my head on his chest and his fingers tracing lazy shapes on my back, I felt more good than I ever had in my entire life. 

Not just because of what we’d done.

But because of everything that came after.

Because he stayed.

Because he cared.

We lay tangled together, the quiet of the night wrapping around us like a soft embrace. My head rested against Matt’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. His fingers traced slow, soothing circles on my back, each touch grounding me in the moment.

blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

I hesitated, the lump in my throat making words feel heavy. My chest tightened as I fought the wave of emotion rising inside me.

“Matt,” I whispered softly, my voice barely more than a breath as I nestled into the curve of his chest.

He hummed against my hair. “Yes?”

My heart pounded fiercely, caught between the urge to speak and the fear of vulnerability. The words trembled on my lips, fragile and precious.

Finally, I let them slip out, quiet and hesitant.

“I love you.”

I paused and I felt him shift beside me. 

“What did you say?”

His voice was low, curious, and tender.

I didn’t dare say it again—yet.

His fingers gently found my chin, lifting my face toward his. Our eyes met, soft and searching, both our heads resting lightly on the same pillow. 

“You said something,” he teased, a slow, knowing smile curving his lips, and a delicate flush warmed his cheeks.

“Nothing,” I murmured, trying to hide the blush blooming across my skin.

“No, come on,” he coaxed, his voice like silk. “Say it again, sweetheart.”

Taking a steadying breath, I found the courage in his gaze. 

“I love you.”

His smile deepened, radiating pure joy and affection, as if my words were the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

He reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, his touch featherlight but electric.

“I love you” 

he whispered back, his eyes shining with a mixture of awe and certainty.

My heart soared, pounding wildly against my ribs. 

The past four months since I told my my secret, he had been nothing but loving, and tender with me. I’ve never felt so safe and seen with a man. Matt knew me without having me say anything. 

The words I love you had been on the tip of my tongue for so long. 

I couldn’t stop smiling. Neither could he. 

He was my Matthew, and I was his Daphne.

Matt grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know,” he said, his voice playful, “I was waiting for you to say that for a long time.”

I laughed softly, resting my forehead against his. “Yeah? You could’ve just said it first.”

He pretended to think it over, tapping his chin. “Nah, I like hearing it from you. Makes it feel special.”

I rolled my eyes, but the smile on my face was wide and genuine.

Then, without warning, he tickled my side lightly.

“Matt!” I gasped, squirming away, but he held me close, laughing.

“See? You’re mine. No backing out.”

I reached up, poking his ribs in retaliation, and he laughed harder.

After a while, our laughter and whispers slowly faded into comfortable silence. Nestled in each other’s arms, the warmth between us felt like the safest place in the world. My eyelids grew heavy, the steady rhythm of Matt’s heartbeat lulling me closer to sleep.

Matt’s fingers traced soft patterns on my back as his voice softened to a tender murmur.

“Goodnight, Daphne. I love you.”

I smiled against his chest, my voice barely audible but full of meaning. 

“Goodnight, Matthew. I love you.”

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS NOW!

[a/n: awe this is so cute. Anyway, let the ansgt begin ;) this was a long ass chapter. Was suppose to post yesterday but I didn't lol, like and reblog! I love you mwah] –ceyana

Tags: @oopsiedaisydeer @ribbonlovergirl @mattsfrenchtoast @lm-a-mirrorball @urlocallera @kingofeverythingmb @idkwhatimdoinghereeeeeee @malox12 @sturnslux3 @carrielovesmatt @vanillakissesxx @sagesturns @enviedparty101 @kiarasmaybank @mattscore @fmg05 @mattsdiva @kenah-sturniolo @tropicfessed @courta13 @meatballlover10 @ellssturn @idkwhatthisis2009 @mattspillowprincess @chrissturniolodailysluts @babyt0matoes @angelxsturns @mattsbabyangel @mattysmrwrinkleton @beardedbernard @sturnsfluff @le4hsblog

(Comment "taglist" on this post to be added to list!)

[ravenstargames]

✦ LOST IN LIMBO DEVLOG #16 | 03.03.2025

Aaand February is gone! Obliterated! Sent to oblivion! Which means a new devlog of Lost in Limbo is here to keep you updated about our work on the game. This has been a very eventful month in our private lives, and there has been a lot of work behind the scenes—but I know that's not what you're here for!

Let's jump into it! 💜

This month, Raquel has managed to finish Amon's new expressions and I've already coded them! She has also been working on Envy's new coat and their expressions, and we can't thank her enough for her hard work. Remember she now works from 8 to 13 and 15 to 18, and is still working for LiL, too!

Our second background for the Extended Demo's prologue is done, thanks to Airyn and Astro! We may make a few tweaks to it but here it is—Master Lysander's shop from the outside! Quite an interesting place, huh? Suspiciously different from the other buildings around it, some would say...

Astro has also finished the 3D modeling of the third background, which our Kickstarter Backers will be able to see in our Kickstarter devlog! :^) Now that he's free from 3D modeling hell, he'll be free to do a few adjustments to our artbook! 💜

This time, I'm talking about writing and programming in the same section, as process has been going well but there's not much to 'show' without spoiling scenes of the Extended prologue—which is something we don't want to do yet!

Kayden is still working on the new mini-cgs for the new prologue, which I hope we can show really really soon!

Our voice actors have also been sending over more voiced names, and we've been working with them to get the best takes for y'all!

This month we have also had to focus on taxes, paperwork, and going back and forth with our manufacturer, plus a few irl things we'll tell you all about in the next section!

Our discord peeps already know, but our Raquel has found a full-time job and we are very happy for her. She finally can start supporting herself, and even if that means she can't work on LiL as much as before, she's doing great sacrifices to keep up as much as she can. Astro now has three jobs and I myself have spent half of February hosting classes in college about character design, which is great! However, I got home at 11 pm (blame it on the flood that stroke my city on October), so I've been a bit all over the place.

We want to apologize if this devlog seems a bit short, or if progress this month lets y'all a bit down. On a happier note, we've joined our first festivals this month, including The Storyteller Festival, and Steam's Visual Novel Fest! Also the Amare Games Festival 2025 over at itch—we hope we can do at least a small update for the deadline, but I'm not so sure about that T_T

Phew! This month has been hectic, and sadly not for the right reasons. As irl things keep happening, you get a bit scared of not being up to the task of developing your game at a pace that satisfies not only your supporters, but yourself. As I write this I'm itching to go back to writing the prologue, haha.

So, yeah! I hope we can keep balancing our lives and LiL as best as we can. I also hope we get a bit of good news from our counselor regarding taxes, and I hope this month is full of cool opportunities for us! 💜

As always, thank you so so much for your support! See you in the next one! 💜

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

What's Pearl and Earl' relationship now? I remember Earl was very done with her for the whole "Hey I know you better than you do so why not join us and ditch the first person who was kind to you after millennia? :)", but did they get better now that Pearl knows that she is making her own choices?

It's my genuine hope that the answer to this question is evident through the comic.

Although it's true that Earl and Pearl's relationship is never explicitly brought up or talked about, I think I do an okay job of showing how they progress through visual background hints. They've clearly come a long way!

They went from this:

to working together in Season 4 quite seamlessly, no longer at odds:

and now this, in the early chapters of the new season.

Hopefully that alone is enough to suggest how they're doing but to make it absolutely explicit - yeah, they get along! They have cooperated for a few missions, and there's no longer the same awkwardness. Plus, Pearl even reassures Steven in the most recent episode, when he fears Earl doesn't like him anymore, which should tell you a lot about how she feels.

They're not besties, necessarily - Earl still lives with Steven primarily and is much closer to him, and Pearl is, well, Pearl, and she prefers the company of Rose (and Garnet and Amethyst)... But I like to imagine they hang out sometimes, mostly due to circumstance than design. Still, they vibe on a level that Pearls do, thanks to their shared history (although Earl is unaware of the bulk of it).

Plus there's that one gif I made as a joke, and never finished, but it's.... a bit suggestive... Maybe I'll post it on Patreon.