#only a month late

[elenadoeslife]

crochet confetti vest - bringing the party to me 💗

[justoneofthoseghosts]

Fic Title: I Didn't Grow Up Like You! I Grew Up Feeling Like Nothing.

Brettsey

(Maybe Matt to Sylvie)

*hello to this prompt that's been sitting in my ask box for over a month*

"I don't like being called Matthew," he whispers quietly.

They're huddled in her bed. It was raining outside in the wee hours of the morning. The sky is jet black except for the occasional lightning lighting up the sky and the loud rumble of thunder. They've been at it for hours - telling stories, sharing secrets, both unable, maybe a bit unwilling, to sleep. It's the early days of their relationship, one Sylvie thinks that has spanned years already even if it began only two weeks ago. They spent much of the past year dancing around it, around this feeling, trying desperately to pull away only for the universe to push them right back together.

To where they belonged - with each other.

It was strange for Matt to say it out loud but also not quite. She had noticed how he'd always introduce himself as Matt and never Matthew. She always thought it was because it was easier, it was his nickname after all but she never imagined there was more to it.

"Why not?" she wonders, pressing herself closer to him, tilting her head up to look at his somber face.

"Only my mother ever calls me that and she says it with such disdain that every time someone calls me that, I picture her face looking at me in disappointment," he confesses quietly.

Sylvie sighs before reaching out, pressing her palm onto his cheek. She knew of his mother. She had seen the smear campaigns when Matt ran for alderman back in the day, the huge billboard outside the firehouse with Nancy's photo on it. It was horrible then and even more terrible now to know how deep it affected, and still affects Matt.

"I forgave her a long time ago," he continues, "but there's still a lot of what ifs from that night."

The words come out slowly at first, like each of them was a precious jewel he was finally letting go off, releasing into the atmosphere. Maybe he shouldn't have left the key to his father's house on the kitchen counter. Maybe he should have seen the signs when he was younger, when Christie distracted him with some loud pop song while his parents screamed at each other. Maybe he should have told a teacher at school about the fights. Instead, he bottled it all up inside. If he didn't feel the fear, the terror that creeped in every time he heard his parents raise their voices at each other, it could all just be a very bad dream. He was sure he could convince himself of that.

Her heart ached and broke for him. It was a horrendous experience to have gone through at such a young age.

It broke even more when he uttered, "I didn't grow up like you. I grew up feeling nothing."

He glances at her and she could see the apprehension in his eyes, as if waiting for her to bolt because here he was finally telling her that maybe some part of him was broken, that he wasn't all he was cracked up to be, that she deserved someone young and whole.

But you're the one I want, she wants to say.

Sylvie pulls herself closer to Matt, closer until she can feel his breath on her cheek. True, they had such different childhoods. Sylvie had been telling him about having a pet snake named Toothpaste just ten minutes ago and here he was opening up about his own dysfunctional one. It wasn't some test she needed to pass because she knew he was simply being honest with her and open too.

"I love you," she reassures, "and nothing's ever going to change that."

She hears him let out a sigh of relief. He smiles weakly at her, "yeah?"

"Of course," she replies immediately as he snakes his arms around her tightening his embrace, their limbs tangling together.

"I love you too," he states earnestly.

She burrows her head against his chest as they listen to the rain pouring outside, as silent envelopes them for a brief moment before they begin to talk again, to share more of their stories with each other, some good, some bad, some ugly, others rather funny.

It's one of those nights or mornings, depending on how you looked at it, that Sylvie didn't quite want to ever end.

[nipuni]

Casanova sketches!

[iwantmochisoup]

- june 2024 sketchdump -

[stories-in-the-wind]

A stroll through the Zephyr Steppes

[gotchibam]

Totodile & Murkrow ko-fi doodle for Trevor!

[defilerwyrm]

Parents, for the love of everything that ever pretended to be holy, do not make household cleaning a punishment for your children.

My parents did that. As an adult, I would rather stare at a blank wall for five hours straight than wash dishes. I would rather do math problems without a calculator and have my answers read aloud in public than clean a bathroom. If my hatred of cleaning was a capturable energy it could power interstellar travel. All because, growing up, cleaning house was a primary form of punishment.

Don’t fuckin’ do that. You’re not instilling discipline. You’re instilling hatred for something they need to be able to do as adults without hating every microsecond of it.

[vivephim]

let’s go, the clock is ticking...

process video (youtube)

[tsukk1]

the cursed and the chosen

[boar-cry]

he doesn't get paid enough for this. (he doesn't get paid at all actually.)

[originalartblog]

does this count as angst or

companion piece for this Storm Bringer AU here

[genderpink]

[miusato]

Yeah but what if they're some oddly high budget cartoon from the 00s???

[applejuicehq]

looptrain

bonus original sketch <3

[delicourse]

lilac season

[twotangy]

this thing is basically just a cat, a really weird looking one