#just a little sketch for my gf

[erysium]

long distance feelings

[pricknim]

My friend told me to use the poses from this tiktok, so I did. They were all convinced to do this by Pinkie (and Dash).

[slavhew]

Wip. Its 2:48 am.

[screamingay]

i did a little watercolor today! just trying out some stuff so i haven't finished any of them but it was good practice

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

dear friends if you have ever made me anything it’s on my wall btw

[sugurufic]

I'm trying to get husbanded-up! (Nanami x F!Reader)

Word Count: 0.5k

Summary: In which you try the trend of addressing your boyfriend as your husband with bf!Nanami Kento

Content warnings: fluff, non sorcerer au

masterlist

You dress up in a pretty white dress for the casual date that your boyfriend, Nanami Kento, had planned for you. A chill afternoon out in the park, painting things that inspire you, then have a little picnic and then probably spend the evening reading to each other and cooking together.

It isn’t suspicious when you set down your phone to record the painting date, you love taking videos of sweet times like this. “So today we are out here in this lovely park for our date - my husband had the lovely idea of us painting together in the sun, maybe getting inspired to make the next best thing.”

You take out your canvas and box of paints, but your lovely boyfriend has no reaction to the word other than a small smile on his face. The timelapse continues as you look at the scene around you, picking to sketch out the ducks in the pond. It’s a lovely day with the sun out and a cool breeze in the air, the smell of fresh spring delighting your senses. You feel serene and calm - Kento is your oasis in the chaotic world of work, work and work. 

A couple of hours into the date, you are finally done with your scene of ducks in the pond and the blooming trees surrounding them. You turn off the timelapse and set up your camera in a normal record instead. You finally look up at Kento, who is already looking at you with a smile plastered on his face.

“You look so adorable admiring your handiwork, my love.” He says. “So what inspired you today?”

“Those ducks and their little ducklings!” You excitedly say. “What about you, my husband?”

His smile only widens when you say that, but he feigns nonchalance as he says, “Oh, nothing, just a beautiful woman sitting in front of me.”

“Really?” you mumble, narrowing your eyes in fake anger. 

“It’s not very true to her form, but i tried my best,” He says.

“Okay, let’s show this to the camera at the count of three.” You say. “Three!”

Both of you turn your canvases to the camera - yours a quiet scene of the ducks and ducklings, his of a woman in a white dress, with a canvas on her lap. She has your hair, but her face is covered by her hair.

“Oh my god Kento, that is so pretty!” You exclaim, snatching his canvas from him. “I swear you make me look waay prettier than I actually am.”

“I think you undermine yourself a little too much, my wife.” He says, a pointed, cheeky glare sent to you. Your face heats up instantly, not having much of his self restraint.

“Should we go feed the ducks, husband?” You tease him back, the warmth not leaving your face.

“I am trying to get husbanded-up, you know?” He says, and you burst out into a fit of giggles.

“You aren’t trying fast enough,” you tease back.

“Your message has been received and you will receive your response in due time,” Nanami says, joining your giggles.

A/N: we are gonna ignore the context of the gf and pretend that's actually where our man is

[messrmoonyy]

-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea

Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur Morgan

- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you

- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.

- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3

- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.

- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.

- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.

- Forehead kisses!!!!!

- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.

- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you

NSFW

- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.

- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him

- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “

- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.

- Refuses to finish before you ever.

- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “

- Grips The headboard.

John Marston

- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.

- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘

- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.

- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.

- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.

- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.

- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.

- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.

NSFW

- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.

- Not very serious most of the time.

- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.

- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.

- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.

- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.

- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.

Dutch Van Der Linde

- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.

- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.

- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.

- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.

- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.

- Reads to you a lot.

- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.

NSFW

- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur

- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.

- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde

- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.

- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.

- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “

- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.

- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.

- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.

Sadie Adler

- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.

- Shes just so sweet to you.

- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat

- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.

- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.

- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.

- Big spoon.

NSFW

- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom

- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While

- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you

- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “

- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.

- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.

- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time

- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.

Molly O’Shea

- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.

- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being

- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “

- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.

- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red

- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes

- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.

- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.

NSFW

- Pillow princess. End of story.

- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes

- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.

- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.

- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.

- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.

- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.

- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.

[blkkizzat]

ღ𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Thrilling Ghouls

Kinktober Prompts: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? CW: AU. Most warnings for P2 really. Slightly dubcon-y. Bully/mean/teasing Toji. Bratty/crazy gf reader. Rough sex. Drug ref. Werewolf transformation but this isn't that furry shit lol. Omegaverse themes I borrow heavily from but I'm not following the rules of it faithfully (I don't even know them myself lol) WC: 4k of 10.4k Lightly black fem coded but no descriptors.

A/N: This one took a bit longer expected as I recently caught a cold, boooo! But I'm realizing even in my fics I intend to be PWPs I still need to set the mood and a plot springs forth lmfao. Plus I had fun actually trying to write a bit of horror in too! I decided to split into 2 parts because of the delay already.

Big shout out to an irl bestie @sairotonin for drawing a sketch of Werewolf!Toji for her inktober for me to use in my gfx. TY sis you a real one!!

Enjoy!

“In the next 500ft, turn left.”

This was going to be the third goddamn left the car navigation told you to take in the last 20 minutes. You were ninety-nine percent sure you had been going in circles and were now lost as shit at night in the middle of nowhere. 

You glance at your phone sitting in the dash-caddy. 

One measly bar. 

The further you traveled, the more the service bars were dwindling as well. 

Shit, you had 3 full bars last time you looked.

Opting to keep ahead straight instead of turning, you cross-check your destination via the spy monitoring app you had shamelessly downloaded on your boyfriend Toji’s phone.

Toji’s current location was 45 miles outside of the city and it had been a good 10 miles since you last saw any kind of highway. The area you were in was a mix between nature reserve and private property so not even GPS could pin down the exact directions to his whereabouts. 

Sigh. 

You had never wanted to be That Girl™. 

You know, the ones who would sneak peaks at their boyfriend’s phones, were super insecure about any interaction their man had with the opposite sex and ran down on them while they were out to catch them in the act of cheating. 

But you were a woman at the end of her rope.

What else could you do?

For a few days every month Toji would simply disappear. 

The various excuses he gave usually centered around his work. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but you knew enough to know most of it was dangerous and wasn’t what good society would consider legal.  

Toji had scolded you before for asking too many details. 

For your own safety.

He would say with an arrogant smirk.

But even when working you had always been able to get a hold of him after a few hours. It was just this one particular job he would completely drop off the face of the earth for. It annoyed you, sure, but Toij’s work never followed him home so you didn't have complaints.  

That is, until you had finally moved-in with him and Megumi.

Truly, you were already like a little family.

Megumi, who had just recently started preschool, had been quick to warm up to you ever since you and Toji first introduced you to him a few months prior to that. 

But living together pushed things to a whole other level. Megumi would follow you around like a lost pup and often opted to sit in your lap rather than Toji’s.

Not to mention throw a near fit if you weren’t the one to tuck him in goodnight. (Toji would never admit he was a bit jealous and would only grumble slightly that it was less of a hassle for him if you did it so you should just do it from now on).

You never even realized you had such a mothering instinct, being on the same page as Toji about no more kids, until you looked into those little emerald eyes of Gumi’s and absolutely melted. 

You had grown so close that the little boy unknowingly let it slip once while Toji was MIA on that job, that he was glad Daddy went on his daddy breaks once a month so you both could have fun together by yourselves.

You tried to keep your reactions in check for Megumi but that revelation completely shook you. 

A “daddy break” didn’t sound much like a work trip to you which spiked your anxiety and caused you to spiral into overthinking. 

Did he need a break from you too as well?

You couldn't very well grill a 4-year old and you didn’t have the nerve to just ask Toji straight out. 

So you did the only thing you could think of at the time and that was to complain to your good friend Tsukumo over drinks a few days later after Toji returned.

Tsukumo, who always seemed to have the wrong answer for everything, simply told you to do the ‘smart’ thing and download a monitoring app on his phone that would log is calls, texts and whereabouts. 

You initially balked at her.

Tracking Toji had never crossed your mind.

Outside of this, Toji had never given you a reason to doubt him and you wanted to respect his privacy and trust, especially trust as you knew he didn’t let many people get close to him at all.

True, he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming man you ever dated. You were well aware he had his many skeletons as well as ex-hookups. But Toji for the most part had been content with his gambling then coming home to you and Megumi. 

He wasn’t the type to ‘run the streets with the boys (he had no boys tbh), you had only ever known him to have the occasional drink with Shiu when he wasn’t out gambling.

You had almost refused to do such a thing… That is until Tsukumo posed the question: 

What’s more important Y/N– your peace of mind or his trust? 

And Y/N, is trust really what’s important here at all if he is in fact already taking advantage of yours?

Touché. 

Tsukumo had you there.

“Besides, you think that old dinosaur is even going to notice an extra app on his phone in the first place?” 

Tsukumo quipped, throwing back a shot of sake and jiggling the empty container at the bartender for more.

“You just got rid of his old flip phone last year. I’m surprised he can even use a touchscreen without punching a hole through it. Just delete the app once you’ve seen what you needed to see.”

Tsukumo gave you this advice like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Ignoring her digs at Toji’s age, and maybe it was the 3 bottles of sake the both of you had blown through in the last hour, but you were starting to think she might be onto something. 

“Mmm, on second thought, might as well keep it on there. Men like Fushiguro are dogs that need to be kept on tight leashes.”

Tsukumo grinned at you with a wink before turning her attention back to the bartender.

You still didn’t know then if you would actually go through with it.

Nevertheless, here you are now at 11:15 PM at night about to pull up on your boyfriend thanks to Tsukumo’s advice to find out once and for all if Toji was cheating on you.

You had dropped Megumi off at his best friend Yuji’s for the night, thanking Yuji’s parents for watching him and feeling guilty for lying to them that you and Toji had a date night. 

Almost there.

You are within 2 miles of arriving at the vicinity of where the monitoring app says Toji is.

However, your anxieties were getting the best of you as you drove in near tears.

You turn up your music louder, the booming bass distracting you from how much darker and creepier it gets the further you drive into the wooded area. 

Sighing again, you had no idea how this would turn out but you knew the result would determine whether you would be listening to Positions by Ariana Grande or Playing Games by Summer Walker on repeat during the drive back. 

☠

Barely a half mile later, you see the engine light of your car flash. The pungent odor of burning oil fills the car as a plume of smoke escapes out from under the hood.

Goddamn it, Toji. 

“Y/N, make sure to go get ‘er an oil change while I’m gone. Ya got like 15 good miles left on ‘er.”                                                                                                                                  Toji’s voice rang in your mind. 

Well the big lunk he was wrong.

You had driven at least 33 miles so far.

You mentally cussed him again. 

Toji was the one who was supposed to change your oil, he used your car more than you did. Only opting to use his own blacked out unplated and unlicensed car for jobs like he was on now.  

You wouldn’t have even left the house if it wasn’t for his sketchy cheating headass. 

Okay, so you hadn’t exactly confirmed that just yet, but you were pissed and until you confirmed otherwise, right now he was a cheater and everything about this situation was his fault.

Pulling over to the side of the dirt road before you caused further damage to your car, you weighed your options.

Option 1: Call AAA

You had zero bars though. 

Fuck. 

Option 2: Wait here in the safety of the car until morning.

You would still have zero bars and you might miss Toji, making this whole trip fruitless.

If he beat you home in the morning and found you gone with Megumi at Yuji’s with the sad excuse for a 'date night' lie you gave, you would never hear the end of it.

He would taunt you into oblivion that your silly ass drove all the way up here unto the woods for your car to break down cause you were too busy being a psycho bitch to remember to get an oil change.

Option 3: Walk on foot the rest of the way to Toji.

Really the only viable option you had. 

It was a good 12 miles or so back to the highway, you didn’t know how many turns you had made since then and you doubt you could make it back on foot anyway. If you were going to walk a few miles to get service again you might as well walk to where Toji was.

Sure if he wasn’t cheating you would still get ridiculed, but at least you could get a ride home. 

And if he was cheating, you would hot wire his car (one of the few useful things he did teach you) and that motherfucker and his whore could find their own way home.

Resolving yourself to walk, you put on Toji's hoodie that fortunately was still in the backseat from him last using your car to go to the gym. 

You really should have put more thought into planning this before you left. Besides Toji’s oversized worn hoodie that reached your mid-thighs all you were wearing was a thin white shirt and black spandex shorts. 

You didn’t even have sneakers or boots, as you looked down at your fuzzy black slippers you mostly only wore outside to run short errands like dropping off Megumi at preschool or picking up groceries. 

Thankfully, you did have a small flashlight in the glove compartment though in case of emergencies like this.

Flashlight in tow, you step outside of your stalled car and immediately suck in a worried breath as the weight of the chilly night settles over you like a heavy cloak.

You only have a mile and a half trek but the dirt road that stretches out before you looks endless as it disappears into the obscurity of the thick shroud of fog surrounding you. 

The flashlight doesn’t do much to cut through the intense density of condensation. You had only made it a mere 20 feet from your car but you can just barely make out its faint outline.

Swallowing, you put on your bravest face and fix your gaze forward. 

The reflections of your flashlight casts shifty patterns on the mist in your peripheral vision and you do your best to ignore the chill that creeps up your shoulders. 

“Fuck you, Toji.” 

You mumble half-heartedly, pulling the hood over head.

You didn’t really mean it though. Would-be-cheater or not more than anything you wished he was here with you now. 

You were freezing, tired and all you could think about was how warm and safe you would feel in Toji’s arms. Even if you were mad at him. 

You pick up the pace, wanting to get to him sooner. 

Almost more unnerving than the fog itself, the forest around you is as quiet as a grave.

There are no chirps of crickets, nor hoots of owls. 

Not even in the crisp cold of fall does the wind rustle through the trees, everything is silent.

The haunting nature around you seems to hold its breath as if it knows you're an unwelcome intruder who has trespassed too far.

You don’t dare peer into the trees which look taller in the darkness, closing in tightly on the dirt road. They are ghastly silhouettes of their former selves blocking any moonlight to help guide your way. 

You shiver as you feel as if you are being watched from a distance.

The only noise you hear is the soft crunching of rocks and leaves beneath your feet with every unsure step you take forward. 

You can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as a stray tear runs down your cheek.

You couldn’t get to Toji soon enough. 

Though you still didn’t have any service the GPS updated as much as it could in roaming, you were so close.

As you continue forward a shadow on the path catches your eye in the foggy distance. 

Your heart quickens as you inch closer, your anticipation mingling with fear.

Shapes soon begin to take form and the harsh reality dawns upon you.

A pack of wolves. 

Their shadowy figures coalesce before you through the fog as they take stock of you.

You start to feel queasy as you see their red-stained muzzles dripping with the blood of their latest kill. The grotesque carcass of a deer practically stripped to the bone lay lifeless under their enormous paws. 

Their eyes, fierce and predatory, meet yours with a chilling intensity as the feeble beam of your flashlight washes over them. The deer, although large, you know is not enough to quell hunger from beasts of their size.

With a shaky breath you slowly retreat, not wanting to further agitate their already aggravated predatory senses. 

Then you hear it.

From what seems to be the darkest reaches of the night, a sound reverberates from the trees, through the forest and beyond that's unlike anything you've ever heard before. 

The howl that tears through the stillness is so chilling you instantly feel the lamentation that carries the weight of centuries of primal power down in the very marrow of your bones.

Even the wolves snap their heads to attention and bow their heads as if the sound announced the presence of a creature much higher on the food chain... something more ancient and malevolent…

...something terrifyingly unhuman.

The body racking shiver you experience is so intense it has you sprinting at full speed before your mind, frozen from fear, can even process you are moving. 

You burst through the dense trees, leaving the road as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and tears stream freely down your cheeks to soak the edge of Toji’s sweatshirt.

The tangled underbrush of the forest whips the soft skin of your legs and the forest itself seems to conspire against you as you navigate the obstacle course of branches, logs and large rocks all seemingly with a mission to slow you down.

You can hear the chilling howls of the wolves you saw on the road call out behind you, giving chase. 

The sounds of their footfalls grow closer with every passing second.

Terrifying as they are, they hold no candle against the howl that sent you running and your body continues to propel you forward. 

Panic frazzles your senses and you make the tragic error of trying to steal a glance back behind you before directly colliding with a large cedar.

Groaning from the impact you reel as you try to gather yourself, clinging to the tree for support. 

You hear a twig snap behind you and you whirl around as you are faced with a largest gray wolf out of the pack who had been chasing you. 

The alpha wolf’s teeth glint menacingly as their breath escapes in visible puffs in the frigid night air. 

Too late to try to make a run for it again, you whimper as you resign yourself to your fate. You slid down the large tree to bury your face in your knees.

Was this it?

Was this how you died?

You weren’t even able to see Toji after coming all this way. 

You also wanted to be able to hug Megumi one last time and maybe knock the daylights out of Tsukumo for her horrible ass idea. 

But ultimately this was all your fault. 

You could be snuggled up with Gumi on the sofa with snacks watching Anpanman but your dumbass had to go galavanting off into the middle of the woods like a fucking lunatic and now you’re about to be eaten by a wolf.

You could feel the wolf’s overbearing presence as it approached you but you couldn’t bear to look up. You’d rather spend your final moments thinking of Toji and Megumi. 

Yet despite your impending doom, your head did snap up once you felt a rough tongue gently lick your ankles and curiously sniff at the ends of Toji's hoodie covering your legs. 

The wolf was more than intimidating up close as its giant muzzle was the size of your entire head.

However the wolf regarded you cautiously like it almost recognized you before releasing its own chillingly deep howl and promptly running off.

Wait– T-The hell?!

You sat there at the trunk of the tree trying to process the interaction that just took place but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you heard something else approaching you rapidly.

The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, uneven footfalls don’t seem to be that of a wolf, renewing the sensation of dread through your body. 

Your heart races in your chest as the ominous sounds of the being looming evermore closer become more pronounced.

From the shadows emerges a monstrous figure.

The fog doesn’t reach this deep into the forest and the moonlight that peeks between the trees glimmers on its enlarged taut muscles. 

Its eyes, red, burn like fiery amber. 

Fierce and resolute you can see them pierce through the darkness long before you can make out any features of the creature's face.

What you think upon first glance must be a demonic apparition from your worst nightmares ends up being– 

Toji?!

As he steps into a beam of moonlight, the transformation before you is complete. 

Toji’s once-human and feet hands have become formidable claws with nails like blades, his face remains mostly unchanged with the exception of his mouth which in his snarl reveals rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.

He is still mostly human in appearance but you can tell he stands taller, nearly 8 feet.

The thicker body hair on his forearms bristles with raw power.

He was completely bare save for the tattered jeans barely hanging on his body that had torn from the sheer size of his enormous muscularity in this form.

Each step he takes towards you makes your heart skip a beat yet you stare transfixed, unable to look away and your tears increase.

Was this terrifying otherworldly apparition the boyfriend you had been searching for?

Time stands still in that haunting moment as Toji’s eyes bore into your soul with a predatory intensity. 

His hunger and primal instincts radiates off of him like a palpable force. 

“T-T-Toji?” 

You cautiously inquire through your quiet sobs. 

“Y/N?! What the fuck do you think y’er doing out here?” 

Toji snarls back at you. His growl seems to cause the very atmosphere to vibrate and the earth beneath you quakes as your body involuntarily quivered with fear. 

Toji thought he must have been losing his goddamn mind when he caught onto your scent earlier but here you were like a lost little lamb to the slaughter before him.

He came out onto the woods to be alone, away from civilization and away from you and Megumi during his monthly transformations. 

It was safer that way, for all of you.

You had been fortunate the local wolf pack had acknowledged him as their Alpha and recognized his scent on you.

But there were far worse dangers in the forest besides them.

Toji wouldn’t be able to protect you like he was now. 

Not with you needing protection from him too.

Protection from him as not only was it a full moon, it was a harvest moon, a mating moon. 

The primal urge to rip you apart was only truncated by the more intense carnal urge to mate with you. Toji wanted to claim you as his and fuck you so hard into the girthy cedar behind you the entire tree would topple over by its roots.

He had wanted to claim you as his mate for a while now.

Even moved you in with him and Megumi as the final step but you couldn’t wait for that, could you? 

You had managed to track him somehow all the way out here and throw his whole plan into the shitter. 

He could barely control himself in this form as it is and now your scent, blubbering cries and the fucking harvest moon were sending him with full force into a fierce rut. 

“T-Toji w-what is this!? W-what’s happened to you!? W-what are you doing out here?!” 

Worry saturates your voice as you choke out your questions in rapid fire cries not giving him time to even respond.

Toji fights the predatory instinct in him who sees you as his prey and if your gaze wasn’t so focused on trying to read his face for answers you surely would have noticed him fully bricked near bursting out of his worn jeans.

You looked so appetizing. 

He needed you.

However, Toji could tell your nerves were completely shot and the slightest twitch of his muscles toward you had you almost jumping out of your skin like a little bunny rabbit.

“Y-Y/N…” 

His voice strained itself into a murmur as he attempted to do his best to lull you into some sort of security so he could explain things calmly to you.

Yet the way he was near salivating, drool dripping from his canines as he panted and towered over you did anything but make you feel secure. 

You mistook his lust for bloodthirstiness.

“Just calm down. It’s OK.”

Toji needed you to be calm like he needed you to take steadier breaths if he was going to successfully win the tumultuous war he was fighting against his instincts to pounce on you. 

There is an oppressive tension between the two of you and he can tell you are also fighting against your fight or flight reflexes.

Good girl. 

It would be disastrous if you did something foolish, no telling what might happen then.

But unfortunately for the both of you, your fits of emotion and impulses are what had your crazy ass out here in the first place. 

The pressure had officially gotten to you. 

Toji’s lies, your car, the woods, the wolves, everything leading up to this point bubbled over because the last thing you wanted to be told right now was to ‘just calm down’.

You snapped. 

“Ok? OK?! OKAY?!...TOJI WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS O.K. RIGHT NOW!?”

You were practically hysterical as you yelled at him, momentarily forgetting your fears of Toji’s new form.

The trigger of being told to 'calm down' in a situation where you clearly had every right to feel every fucking emotion you wanted won out over everything else.

“MY CAR BROKE DOWN BECAUSE OF YOU DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH WHOEVER THE FUCK OUT HERE, I LITERALLY WAS JUST CHASED BY WOLVES, ALMOST EATEN, AND Y-YOU… Y-YOU-”

A crackling snap came from above you and you realized Toji’s claws had completely ripped a large chunk out of the tree right above your head.

Your tantrum had in turn pushed him over the edge as well. 

His irises flared intensely at you as you quivered under his gaze in fear.

He would have you but first, he would play with you a bit.

Things never happened the easy way with you.

Yet, that’s also exactly the way Toji liked it too. That's why he'd put up with you thus far.

A malevolent smirk dons Toji's features as his simple command issues an unsettling tremor running down into the depths of your being.

“Run.”

P2 HERE!

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: Count on Tsukumo to always given the wrong fuckin’ advice. Lmfao! Or was it the right advice in this case? Hmm we will see what happens next!

Smutty goodness in the next part. This part was just to set the horror mood!

I promise this fic isn't as nearly as long as Ghostface!Choso. It's looking to be about 8k total and I have 3.5k of P2 finished lol.

Reblog if you are both submissive and breedable for Werewolf!Toji, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

ღTaglistღ:

@callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @briefrebelfanalmond @nikkitc0703 & @dancingwithdeities (prone bone coming in p2 just for u sweets!) LMK below if you would like to be tagged in P2. For all kizzatober fic tags comment on m.list.

[sirenedeslily]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ‎𐦍 𝐜hristopher 𝐬turniolo

❛you have so much to do, and i have nothing ahead of me.❜

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, in the bustling streets of new york city, a struggling artist burdened by her mother's chaos meets chris, a vibrant spirit who reignites her dormant passion for art. as their connection deepens through museum visits and intimate conversations, y/n is torn between the weight of her sacrifices and the allure of newfound love. when their paths inevitably part, chris must confront the heartache of losing the muse who transformed his art, while y/n faces the painful reality of her shattered dreams, forever haunted by the ephemeral beauty of their once-shared moments.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, angst, mentions of emotional and physical neglect, fluffy moments, mental health struggles, open ending (sorry)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭, 13.9k !

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬, this is based on the song “your best american girl” by mitski aswell as “fake plastic trees” by radiohead. this one took everything out of me to write so i apologize if the writing isn’t its best or if it gets repetitive in anyway, i really tried chat. idk if y’all could tell but i got inspired by little women (2019) and eternal sunshine of the spotless mind for some scenes. ANYWAYS this is dedicated to gf @sweetangelgirl7 !! love u so very much sweets

standing behind the counter of the bustling café, you were enveloped by the rich aroma of coffee beans mingling with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of cups. the everyday symphony wrapped around you like a familiar song. as the door swung open, a rush of summer air and the distant murmur of traffic stirred the atmosphere. you glanced up from the drawing you had been mindlessly sketching, your pencil pausing mid-air

a man entered, his presence commanding attention like a character stepping out of a film. dressed in a denim jacket and worn jeans, his curly hair framed his face with an effortless charm. his striking blue eyes, a shade reminiscent of clear summer skies, scanned the menu before locking onto yours. he approached the counter with an easy, unpretentious smile.

"hi there," he said, his voice a blend of warmth and curiosity. "what do you recommend for someone who needs a bit of inspiration?"

a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, a reflex of shared understanding. "i’d say a mocha with an extra shot of espresso. it’s got just the right amount of kick to get the creative juices flowing."

"perfect," he replied, nodding appreciatively. "i’ll have one of those. and maybe a blueberry scone, if you’ve got any left."

you quickly prepared his order, your hands moving with practiced ease, though a curious sense of anticipation fluttered in your chest. as you handed him the steaming cup and the scone, your fingers brushed briefly, sending a fleeting spark of something unfamiliar through you.

"here you go," you said, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. "one mocha with an extra shot and a blueberry scone. that’ll be $6.50."

he handed you a ten-dollar bill, his gaze lingering on you just a moment longer than necessary. "keep the change," he said with a smile. "thanks for the recommendation...?"

"y/n," you supplied, feeling a warmth spread through you at his genuine interest.

"y/n," he repeated, savoring the sound of your name like a cherished word. "nice to meet you. i’m chris."

"nice to meet you too, chris," you replied, noticing as he glanced at the sketchbook you had left open. his eyes widened slightly, a look of recognition crossing his face. "you drew this just now?" he asked, surprise evident in his voice.

"uh, yeah," you said, a bit self-conscious. "it’s nothing really. i just like to doodle from time to time."

he continued to study the page, which depicted a scene from fallen angel, a film that had left an indelible mark on your imagination. his gaze softened with genuine admiration. "you’ve perfectly captured the essence of the scene. it’s one of my favorite movies."

a blush crept into your cheeks at his compliment. "thank you. i really love the cinematography of it all."

"i completely agree. i seriously believe that if a movie has shitty visuals, it undermines its entire meaning." his candidness made you smile, intrigued by the easy rapport that had sprung up between you.

as chris took a sip of his mocha, his eyes met yours again, a spark of connection kindling between you. the café, with its familiar sounds and smells, seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you, suspended in a moment that felt both ordinary and extraordinary. he lingered a moment longer, his gaze drifting back to your sketchbook. "do you draw often?" he asked, genuine curiosity colouring his tone.

"every chance i get," you admitted, feeling a strange mix of shyness and pride. "it helps me unwind."

chris nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "i get that. i paint when i need to clear my head. something about creating, you know?"

you did know. the act of creation, whether with words or images, was a sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside. "what do you paint?" you asked, leaning forward slightly, genuinely interested.

"mostly landscapes," he said, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "i love capturing the way light changes throughout the day."

the two of you stood there, the café bustling around you, but in your corner of the world, time seemed to slow. you shared a smile that felt like an unspoken understanding, a shared secret between kindred spirits.

glancing at his watch, chris had a flicker of regret crossing his features. "i should get going, but i'd love to talk more about your art. maybe over coffee sometime?”

you felt a spark of excitement. "i’d like that," you said, the words simple but sincere.

chris handed you a small card with his contact information. "shoot me a text when you're free," he said, his smile warm and hopeful. "i'd love to see more of your work."

"i will," you promised, tucking the card safely into your pocket.

as chris turned to leave, he paused at the door, glancing back one last time. "thanks for the inspiration, y/n," he called out, his voice carrying a note of something almost magical.

you watched him go, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving you with a sense of possibility hanging in the air. the café resumed its regular rhythm, but everything felt just a bit brighter, a bit more hopeful.

returning to your sketch, you found your pencil moving with renewed energy, capturing the scene with a fresh perspective. the encounter with chris had ignited something within you, a spark that you knew would fuel your creativity for days to come.

𝜗𝒞

the shift ended, and you slipped out of your apron, folding it neatly as you prepared to leave. the evening light bathed the city streets in a warm, golden hue, a stark contrast to the cold, fluorescent lights of the café. you walked home, the sketchbook tucked under your arm, your thoughts drifting back to chris and his easy smile.

home was a small apartment on the edge of town, where the rent was cheap, and the walls were thin. you unlocked the door, stepping into the familiar clutter of dishes in the sink, laundry waiting to be folded, and your mother sprawled on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey within arm's reach. she barely acknowledged your arrival, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the television.

"dinners in the fridge," you said softly, knowing she would not respond. she rarely did these days, lost in her own world of regret and resentment. you had grown up with a mother who was more like a ghost, always there but never present. her dreams had died long ago, and she had never forgiven you for being the living reminder of what she had lost.

you heated up a leftover meal, sitting at the small kitchen table with your sketchbook open in front of you. the pencil moved by itself, lines and shapes taking form as you lost yourself in the act of creation. drawing was your escape, your way of coping with the harsh realities of your life. silence was loud in your home; drawing helped you drown its achingly loud quietness. it was in these moments that you felt most alive, the weight of your responsibilities lifting, if only for a little while.

as the night wore on, you were consumed by thoughts of your future—or rather, the lack of it. once, you had dreamed of becoming an artist, envisioning your work gracing galleries and museums. but those dreams now felt impossibly distant, eclipsed by the relentless need to support yourself and your mother. your father had vanished by the time you were nine, leaving you and your mom to fend for yourselves. at least, until her accident. after that, it was you against the world, while she retreated into a haze of painkillers and alcohol.

you were so intelligent that you began tutoring your fellow classmates. at first, the tutoring income covered the bills, but when your mother started siphoning your money for her drugs, you had to take on another job as well. juggling multiple jobs to keep the bills paid, you eventually had to abandon your education as the financial pressures mounted. despite everything, you kept your mind sharp by devouring countless books.

stealing moments to draw whenever you could, you clung to your passion in the scant free time you had. it was a precarious balance, and more often than not, you felt as though you were barely holding on. yet, there was something about chris that had reignited a spark within you. his passion for art and his unwavering belief in following your dreams resonated deeply. for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope—not necessarily for yourself, but for the world. his contagious smile and confidence in his future provided a comforting reminder that, for some people, there is light at the end of the tunnel. even if it was not your tunnel, knowing that it existed for someone else brought a sense of solace.

𝜗𝒞

the days that followed were a blur of work and stolen moments with your sketchbook. you found yourself looking forward to your shifts at the café, hoping to see chris again. it was a slow afternoon when he walked in, his presence like a breath of fresh air.

“hey, y/n,” he greeted, sliding onto a stool at the counter. “got time for a break?”

you glanced at the clock, then at your manager, who nodded with a small smile. “sure,” you replied, your heart skipping a beat. you made two mochas and joined him at a corner table.

“how’s the art going?” chris asked, sipping his drink.

you shrugged, feeling a mix of pride and self-consciousness. “i draw whenever i can. it’s hard to find the time.”

chris nodded thoughtfully. “i get that. life has a way of getting in the way, doesn’t it?” he pulled out a small notebook from his jacket. “mind if i show you something?”

curiosity piqued, you nodded. he flipped open the notebook to reveal sketches, each one more beautiful than the last. some depicted serene landscapes bathed in the golden glow of sunset, while others captured the stark, haunting beauty of a storm rolling in over a rugged coastline. the detail and emotion in each piece were astounding, the kind of art that made you feel something deep in your soul.

“these are incredible,” you said, genuinely impressed. “you really captured its light. even in the darkest ones, i can still see some sort of radiance.”

chris smiled, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes, a shadow of vulnerability. “thanks. painting has always been a way for me to process things, to make sense of the world. some of these are from when i was in a really dark place.”

you looked closer at the sketches, noticing the subtle differences in tone and style. one piece, a vivid sunrise over a peaceful meadow, seemed to radiate hope and renewal. in contrast, another sketch showed a desolate, wind-swept landscape under a brooding sky, the sense of isolation almost palpable.

“these two,” you said, pointing to the contrasting pieces. “they feel so different from each other. what was going on when you drew them?”

chris glanced at the sketches and sighed, a mixture of nostalgia and pain crossing his face. “the sunrise was when i first moved out here, trying to start fresh and find some direction. it was a hopeful time, full of possibility. but the other one,” he said, pointing to the darker piece, “was during a period when everything felt like it was falling apart. i had just lost a part of me, and i felt completely alone.”

you could hear the raw emotion in his voice, the weight of his past struggles. “i’m sorry,” you said softly. “it’s amazing how you can convey so much through your art. it’s like i can feel what you were going through.”

he nodded, a small, grateful smile on his lips. “that’s what i love about art. it’s a way to communicate things that words can’t always capture. it’s been a lifeline for me, in more ways than one.”

as you looked through more of his sketches, you saw a range of emotions and experiences, each one telling a different story. there were joyful moments, like a vibrant carnival scene filled with laughter and light, and somber ones, like a lonely figure standing in the rain, the sadness almost tangible. each piece was a window into chris’s soul, a testament to his resilience and creativity.

“what about you? got any new sketches?” he questioned, his blue eyes boring into yours as you looked up from his pieces.

you hesitated, then pulled out your sketchbook, flipping to a recent drawing. it revealed two evocative paintings, each depicting a moment of solitude. on the left, an overhead view showed a figure seated in a bathtub, their back exposed, water enveloping them in a quiet embrace. on the right, a close-up focused on the same individual, their face partially submerged, eyes closed in deep reflection. the delicate brushstrokes and soft colours conveyed intimacy and vulnerability.

chris studied it intently. “this is incredible, y/n. you have a true gift for capturing pure and raw emotion.”

you spent the rest of the break talking about art, techniques, and favourite artists. it was the first of many conversations that deepened your bond. chris became a regular at the café, and you found yourself looking forward to his visits. he encouraged you to keep drawing, to explore different styles, and to believe in your talent.

𝜗𝒞

for months, you had felt an undeniable connection to chris. his enthusiasm was infectious, spreading through you like wildfire and lingering long after he had left the coffee shop. after those first few weeks of him showing up without fail, ordering his mocha and whatever pastry was available, and watching you as you deftly managed the morning rush, he started inviting you on little adventures.

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to join him; it was that you couldn’t. between your shifts at the café and helping the seemingly endless stream of students cramming for finals, you barely had time to breathe, let alone take a night off. but chris had a way of chipping away at your resolve, a determined persistence that wouldn’t let you ignore your own needs. for every reason you had to say no, he always had two more reasons why you should say yes.

“i got us tickets to this exhibition in manhattan,” chris announced one afternoon, his excitement like a burst of sunlight in the room as you focused on the espresso machine.

you sighed, glancing up at him briefly as you handed a latte to a waiting customer. “chris, i can’t just hop over to manhattan and back to brooklyn in one night. not this week, anyway.”

his smile faltered, but only for a moment. “you can’t say no without at least asking me when it is, moonie,” he teased, leaning against the counter.

“moonie?” you raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-bemused.

chris’s grin widened, his eyes dancing with mischief. “yeah, moonie. like the moon. always there, casting light on everyone else but keeping just out of reach. you shine for everyone else, but you stay hidden in the shadows yourself.”

you tried to keep the smile off your face, but it slipped through anyway. “alright, sunny, i appreciate it, but i have responsibilities. my mom, my job—i can’t just drop everything on a whim.”

his expression softened as he leaned in closer, his voice dipping into a serious tone. “i know, but you deserve to live a little, too. you’re always taking care of everyone else. who’s taking care of you?”

his words hit you like a gentle nudge, stirring something deep inside. you’d always been the one to shoulder the burdens, to be the provider, the one who put others first. but here was chris, looking at you like you were something more than that—as if you could be more.

“just think about it,” he urged softly. “one night. it’s not the end of the world. it could be a beginning.”

you exhaled, feeling the weight of your responsibilities pressing down on you. yet, chris’s earnestness was hard to resist. “fine,” you said finally, a small smile playing at your lips. “what’s the date?”

chris’s face lit up like the dawn. “next friday. i’ll pick you up at six.”

“next friday,” you echoed, your emotions a tangled mix of anxiety and excitement.

chris’s smile turned thoughtful as he recalled something from earlier. “sunny, huh?” he chuckled, catching your eye.

you looked at him, puzzled for a moment, before the memory clicked. “oh, right. sunny,” you laughed softly. “yeah, like the sun—always casting light, even on the darkest days.”

he stared at you, his smile growing warmer, more intimate. “sunny and moonie,” he murmured, as if testing the words. “i like that.”

chris had a way of making the ordinary seem extraordinary, and soon enough, you found yourself counting down the days until that friday. the nickname exchange was just one example of how he made things feel special—how he saw the world in a light you had long forgotten to look for. where you saw endless shadows, he saw the stars peeking through.

𝜗𝒞

the days flew by, a blur of coffee cups and late-night study sessions. but every time you thought of friday, there was a flicker of something different inside you—something you hadn’t felt in a long time. maybe it was the idea of finally allowing yourself to step out of the shadows, if only for a night. maybe it was just chris, and the way he seemed to believe that you deserved the world.

when friday finally arrived, you were nervous. your usual routine was a safety net, one you had clung to for years. but there was also a thrill in breaking out of it, in letting someone like chris pull you into his world of light.

true to his word, chris was there at six, waiting outside your door with that signature grin of his. he looked almost too perfect, standing there with his tousled hair and a casual confidence that made you feel both excited and a little out of your depth.

“you look amazing,” he said when you stepped out, and even though you had spent more time getting ready than usual, his words still made your cheeks warm.

“thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit awkward under his gaze. “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

he laughed at that, a warm, easy sound that made you smile in spite of yourself. “ready for our adventure, moonie?”

you nodded, feeling that mix of nerves and excitement again. “ready.”

𝜗𝒞

the train ride into manhattan was filled with easy conversation, chris making you laugh with his stories and little observations about the world around you. he had a way of making you forget your worries, of making you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself this one night.

when you arrived at the exhibition, it was like stepping into another world. the gallery was alive with colour and light, the walls covered in art that seemed to pulse with life. chris guided you through the crowd, his hand brushing against yours as he led you to the first piece.

“what do you see?” he asked, his voice low, as if the art demanded a kind of reverence.

you looked at the painting in front of you, taking in the swirling colors and bold strokes. it was beautiful, but there was something about it that felt... heavy. the colors, though vibrant, seemed to carry a weight, a sadness that lingered beneath the surface.

“it’s... complicated,” you said finally, searching for the right words. “it’s like there’s something hidden beneath all the color. something... sad.”

chris tilted his head, considering your words. “i can see that,” he said, surprising you. “but i also see hope in it. like the colors are fighting against the darkness, refusing to be overshadowed.”

you glanced at him, seeing the art through his eyes for a moment. it was strange, how two people could look at the same thing and see something entirely different. yet, there was a beauty in that too—in the way he found light where you saw shadows.

as you moved through the gallery, you found yourselves interpreting each piece in a similar way. where you saw struggle and sorrow, chris found hope and resilience. it was like you were seeing two sides of the same coin, both valid in their own way.

but as the night wore on, you started to realize something. maybe it wasn’t just the art that was different for each of you. maybe it was the way you saw the world—how your experiences had shaped you into someone who expected the worst, while chris seemed to believe in the best.

it was a thought that lingered in your mind as you left the gallery, the city lights reflecting off the wet pavement as you walked side by side. chris was talking about the exhibition, his voice animated, but you were only half-listening, lost in your own thoughts.

when you finally reached your apartment building, the reality of the night came crashing down. this was the moment where most dates would end with an invitation inside, but you couldn’t do that. you couldn’t let him see the world you lived in, the mess you kept hidden behind closed doors.

chris stopped in front of your door, his smile softening as he looked at you. “i had a great time tonight, moonie.”

“me too,” you admitted, even though your mind was already racing with excuses. “thank you for inviting me.”

he stepped closer, his hand finding yours in a way that felt both natural and electric. “can i see you again?”

you nodded, though the words felt like a promise you weren’t sure you could keep. “i’d like that.”

he hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to kiss you. it was soft, tentative—like he was giving you a chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you let yourself have this moment, let yourself feel something other than the weight of the world on your shoulders.

when he finally pulled back, he smiled at you, a little breathless. “goodnight, moonie.”

“goodnight, sunny,” you replied, your heart still racing as you watched him walk away.

you waited until he was out of sight before turning to unlock your door, the spell of the night slowly fading. inside, your mother’s voice drifted from the living room, a reminder of the life you couldn’t escape. the excitement of the evening was already being overshadowed by the reality waiting for you behind that door.

but as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile, just a little. maybe you couldn’t let chris into your world—not yet—but for the first time in a long time, you felt like there might be a way out of the shadows. and that was something.

𝜗𝒞

from then on, chris would whisk you away to every exhibition new york had to offer. each outing was carefully orchestrated to fit around your work schedule, and when they didn’t align, he would appear with bags full of treats for you and your students. on the days you worked at the café, you’d often find him seated at a table nearby, lost in the world of his sketches. occasionally, your eyes would meet, an unspoken conversation passing between you.

you couldn’t quite fathom why he went to such lengths to be with you or why he chose to spend his time in your presence. each encounter, wrapped in the glow of café lights or the muted brilliance of gallery walls, left you both puzzled and enchanted. his presence was a gentle constant, like a soft murmur of wind that stirred the leaves of your daily routine. as you navigated your days, his quiet dedication painted a new layer to your life’s canvas, one you hadn’t anticipated but couldn’t ignore.

in those fleeting moments of shared glances and unspoken understanding, you found yourself drawn to him, grappling with the inexplicable warmth of his affection. it was as if he saw something in you—something hidden, yet profoundly significant—and his efforts to bridge the gaps in your lives became a silent testament to his feelings.

despite your confusion, there was a growing realization within you, like a hidden spring slowly unfreezing. his presence wasn’t just a backdrop to your days; it was a catalyst, nudging you toward something you hadn’t yet defined. and with each passing day, you began to wonder if perhaps you were both searching for a place where your paths might finally converge. as the weeks passed, the rhythm of your days began to harmonize with chris’s presence. the city, once a cacophony of distant dreams and scattered hopes, now seemed to pulse with a new, vibrant energy. his frequent visits to the café and his thoughtful interruptions of your routine became a comforting cadence, a reminder that you were not alone in your solitary journey.

in those quiet moments when he would sketch or when you’d catch his gaze from across the room, there was a subtle dance of connection that unfolded—a delicate interplay of curiosity and affection. you noticed how he would sometimes pause, his eyes reflecting a quiet intensity, as if searching for something within you. and in those moments, you couldn’t help but feel that he was unraveling parts of you you hadn’t even known existed.

you started to understand that his attention was not just an act of devotion but a mirror revealing facets of yourself you had kept hidden. each exhibition, each thoughtful gesture, was not just about sharing experiences but about creating a bridge between your worlds. his presence was a reminder that amidst the noise and chaos of life, there was still room for understanding and connection.

though you continued to question the reasons behind his unwavering commitment, a tender curiosity began to blossom within you. you found yourself looking forward to his visits, savoring the way he seemed to fill the gaps in your life with warmth and sincerity. and as the seasons changed, so did your perspective, gradually shifting from bewilderment to a quiet acceptance of the possibility that perhaps, in some way, he was meant to be a part of your story. the rhythm of your life continued to intertwine with chris’s, each day offering new layers to this unfolding connection. his persistent presence brought a warmth that seeped into the corners of your routine, transforming the mundane into something infused with new possibilities. the exhibitions, once a distant dream, now became a shared adventure, each outing a testament to his belief in the beauty of the world and your place within it.

you found yourself eagerly awaiting these moments of escape, the gallery visits becoming more than just breaks from routine. they were brief but intense encounters with a world beyond the confines of your daily struggles. chris’s enthusiasm was a contagious force, drawing you into a vibrant dance of discovery and appreciation.

one crisp evening, as winter's chill began to settle over the city, chris arrived with a surprise. "i thought we’d do something different tonight," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "how about a stroll through the city lights?"

"i have to tutor carl, remember?" you replied, removing your apron with a wistful smile.

"actually, no you don’t," chris said, his smile widening. "i talked to matt, and he said he’d be okay with taking over for tonight." matt, chris's brother, was a harvard student back in new york for winter break. his brilliance was well-known, and you trusted him implicitly.

"oh, okay," you agreed, curiosity piqued. as you walked together through the illuminated streets, the city's energy felt different—more alive, more hopeful. the cool air was invigorating, and with chris by your side, the world seemed to expand, revealing hidden layers of beauty and potential.

as you meandered through the sparkling streets, your conversations flowed freely, punctuated by moments of comfortable silence. chris shared stories of his childhood and the small joys he found in everyday moments. you, in turn, opened up about your own dreams and fears, the walls of your carefully guarded heart slowly coming down.

each street corner revealed a new vista of light and shadow, and with every step, you felt a deeper connection to the city—and to chris. the evening felt like a canvas painted with the *colors* of possibility, each shared laugh and heartfelt conversation adding a new brushstroke to the picture of your evolving bond. the city lights cast a warm glow over the street, their reflections dancing in the cold, darkened windows of nearby buildings. chris and you had walked for hours, your steps and breaths synchronizing in a rhythm of shared moments and unspoken connection. now, standing under a canopy of snow-dusted trees, he stopped abruptly, turning to face you with an intensity that made your heart leap.

“y/n,” he began, his voice a low murmur, almost lost in the hum of the city. “i can’t keep this to myself any longer. being with you these past months… it’s been like finding a part of myself i didn’t know was missing.”

you felt your heart pound, a mixture of hope and fear swirling within you. “chris, i…”

he stepped closer, his gaze never wavering. “let me finish, please,” he implored, his expression earnest. “you’ve become the most important person in my life. your strength, your talent, the way you see the world—it’s all so beautiful to me. i find myself wanting to share everything with you, to be there for you in ways i’ve never wanted with anyone else.”

tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them back, trying to hold onto the walls you had built so carefully. “chris, i’m scared. i’ve spent so long being strong, keeping everything inside. letting you in… it’s terrifying.”

he took your hands in his, his touch gentle and r reassuring. “i know,” he whispered. “and i’m not asking you to change or to be anyone other than who you are. i just want to be there for you, to share your burdens and your joys. i want to love you, y/n.”

his words hung in the air, a fragile promise. you felt the weight of his sincerity, the depth of his feelings. and as much as fear gripped your heart, there was also a yearning—a desire to step into the light he offered.

“i don’t know if i can,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “i’ve been hurt before, and the thought of being vulnerable again…”

chris’s eyes softened with understanding. “you don’t have to decide right now. but i want you to know that i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere. you’re worth the risk, y/n. you’re worth everything.”

in that moment, something inside you shifted. the fear didn’t disappear, but it was tempered by a glimmer of hope. and before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, closing the distance between you. your lips met his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent confession of your own.

the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of warmth and possibility. when you finally pulled back, you saw the same hope reflected in chris’s eyes, a promise of a future you had never dared to dream.

𝜗𝒞

from that night on, your life took on a new rhythm, one marked by shared moments and unspoken understandings. chris continued to surprise you with outings, each one designed to pull you further from your cocoon of fear and into the light of his affection.

each weekend, you found yourselves wandering through various art museums, chris always with a thoughtful expression, you with a mix of curiosity and wariness. at the metropolitan museum of art, you stood before a grand, sweeping landscape painting. chris’s eyes lit up as he took in the vibrant colours, the play of light on the canvas.

“look at how the artist captures the dawn,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “it’s like you can feel the hope and promise of a new day.

you studied the painting, seeing instead the lone figure in the foreground, a small silhouette against the vastness of the landscape. “i see solitude,” you murmured. “a person standing alone, facing the immensity of the world. it’s beautiful, but also so lonely.”

chris turned to you, a thoughtful smile on his lips. “i never thought of it that way. i guess that’s what makes art so incredible—how we can see the same piece so differently.”

𝜗𝒞

at the museum of modern art, you stood before a striking abstract piece, all bold lines and vibrant colours. chris saw movement and energy, the potential for change and growth. you saw chaos, the struggle to find order in the midst of confusion.

“it’s like life,” you said, your voice soft. “so much happening at once, and we’re just trying to make sense of it all.”

chris nodded, his expression contemplative. “but there’s beauty in that struggle, don’t you think? in the way we keep going, keep finding our way through the chaos.”

𝜗𝒞

as the weeks passed, your differing interpretations became a dance, each one revealing more about yourselves and each other. chris’s unwavering optimism was a balm to your often weary soul, while your introspective views grounded his boundless enthusiasm.

one evening, as you strolled through a lesser-known gallery, you stopped before a small, delicate watercolour. it depicted a single tree, its branches reaching skyward, its roots firmly planted in the earth. the simplicity of the image spoke to you in a way few pieces had.

“roots and wings,” chris said softly, his arm slipping around your waist. “the tree is both grounded and reaching for the sky. it’s like us, finding our place in the world while still dreaming of what could be.”

you leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence seep into your bones. “maybe,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips. “maybe we’re finding our way together.”

in the quiet of the gallery, surrounded by art that spoke in myriad voices, you realized that you were no longer alone. chris’s love had become a guiding light, illuminating the path before you. and as you looked up at him, you saw not just a lover, but a partner, someone who saw the world through a lens of hope and possibility, and who was teaching you to do the same.

the journey was far from over, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace, a quiet assurance that with chris by your side, you could face whatever came next. and as you walked hand in hand through the gallery, you knew that the future, with all its uncertainties, held a promise of beauty and love yet to be discovered.

the night air was crisp, a faint whisper of winter's end curling through the streets as you and chris strolled back from yet another gallery. the city's lights twinkled like stars that had descended to earth, casting a soft glow that danced in your eyes. you walked in companionable silence, your hearts speaking in the quiet moments between words.

as you neared your apartment, a familiar tension began to creep into your chest. you could feel chris’s gaze on you, his presence a comforting warmth against the chill. yet, with each step closer to your building, the weight of your reality pressed down on you. your mother, the disarray, the stark contrast to the beauty and light chris brought into your life—it all felt too much to reveal.

chris paused at the entrance of your building, turning to face you. his blue eyes, the color of a summer sky, held a depth of emotions you weren't sure you were ready to face. he reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

“i had a wonderful time tonight,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your anxious heart.

“me too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. the fear of what lay beyond this moment was a shadow in your mind, threatening to eclipse the light chris brought.

chris took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. “i know you have your reasons for not letting me in, for keeping this part of your life hidden. but i want you to know that i care about you, y/n. all of you. your art, your strength, your vulnerabilities—everything.”

his words pierced through the walls you had built, each one a gentle push against your defenses. you opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the fear and shame you carried.

before you could respond, chris stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “you don’t have to be perfect or have everything figured out. i’m here, and i want to be here. for you.”

tears welled in your eyes, the weight of his sincerity almost too much to bear. you looked up at him, seeing not just the man who had become your anchor, but a beacon of hope in a life that often felt too heavy to navigate alone.

“chris—” your voice broke, the words dissolving into the cold night air. but chris understood. he always did.

without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a softness that spoke volumes. the kiss was a promise, a silent vow that transcended the fears and uncertainties that plagued your heart. it was a moment of connection, of shared vulnerability, that neither of you could deny.

when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, seeking the reassurance you struggled to give. “i’ll wait, y/n. as long as it takes.”

you nodded, the tears finally spilling over as you whispered, “thank you.”

chris smiled, a bittersweet curve of his lips that held the promise of understanding and patience. “goodnight, y/n,” he said, pressing a final, tender kiss to your forehead before turning to leave.

you watched him go, a mixture of relief and longing twisting in your chest. the night felt colder without him, the weight of your reality settling back over you like a heavy cloak. yet, as you turned to enter your building, a small flame of hope burned within you, kindled by chris’s unwavering support.

one day, you thought. one day, you would find the strength to let him in completely. until then, you would carry this night with you, a reminder that love and understanding could pierce even the darkest corners of your life.

as the weeks passed, you and chris continued to explore the city's art museums. every night would end the same way, with chris walking you home, lingering at the doorstep with a kiss that held all the promises of tomorrow. and every night, you would retreat into your world, holding onto the hope that one day, you would find the courage to let him in completely.

chris’s footsteps echoed through the silent hallway as he approached the door. he knocked on your door, his heart heavy with a mixture of hope and confusion. when the door finally swung open, his eyes searched for a sign of the warmth and openness he’d come to expect from their evenings together. but the darkness of the living room, the disheveled remnants of a life in disarray, struck him like a cold wind.

“are you ever going to let me in?” chris asked softly, the question laced with the delicate edges of frustration and concern. his voice trembled, not from anger but from the sting of being so close yet so distanced.

your eyes, shadowed by the dim light from the hallway, flared with a sudden intensity. “it’s not about letting you in. it’s about what’s behind this door.”

chris stepped closer, his gaze fixed on you. “i don’t understand. i thought we were building something together. but every time i try to get close, you shut me out.”

“building something?” your voice was a mere whisper, yet it carried the weight of countless sleepless nights. “do you think you can simply erase the mess of my life with your visits and your hopeful smiles?”

“i’m not trying to erase anything,” chris insisted. “i want to be here for you, to understand. but you keep pushing me away.”

“and i keep pushing you away because i don’t want you to see this,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the cluttered, sorrowful room. “it’s not just a room; it’s my entire world, falling apart. i don’t want you to see how i live, how i struggle.”

chris’s expression softened, though frustration still clouded his features. “but isn’t part of being together facing those struggles? you don’t have to hide from me.”

your eyes shimmered with a blend of pain and resignation. “you say that now, but what happens when you see the full picture? when you see that my life is a perpetual struggle, not a picture-perfect canvas?”

chris’s voice rose, filled with an aching intensity. “why do you think i’d turn away? why do you believe that knowing the full picture would change how i feel about you?”

“because,” you retorted, your voice breaking, “because it’s not just about how you feel about me. it’s about what you’ll see in me—the chaos, the failures, the person i can’t escape from.”

chris’s frustration boiled over. “you’re not a failure! and you’re not your circumstances. but you have to let me see who you really are, not just the part you choose to show.”

your face crumpled with anguish. “you don’t understand. the chaos, the disarray—it’s not just an obstacle. it’s a reflection of everything i’ve had to sacrifice, every dream i’ve had to let go. you think you can just walk in and fix it all?”

“i don’t want to fix it all,” chris said, his voice heavy with a plea for understanding. “i want to be here with you, through all of it. but you’re not letting me in.”

there was a long, painful silence. your shoulders slumped, your defenses faltering. “i do not know how to let you in. i have spent so long building walls to keep everyone out. i’m afraid that if i let you see everything, it will be too much for you.”

chris reached out, gently touching your arm. “you don’t have to do this alone. let me help you, not by fixing everything, but by being here with you. by understanding that the mess and the chaos are part of who you are, and that’s okay.”

your tears fell freely now, mingling with your whispered words. “i don’t want to be a burden to you. i don’t want to drag you down into my darkness.”

chris’s expression was one of profound compassion. “you’re not a burden. you’re a person i care deeply about. and if that means standing by you through the darkness, then i’ll do that willingly.”

your gaze met his, a flicker of hope amidst your sorrow. “but what if the darkness is too much? what if it’s something i can never escape?”

chris’s voice was steady, filled with conviction. “then we face it together. we learn from it, grow from it. but you don’t have to face it alone.”

in the stillness that followed, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if awaiting the resolution of their anguished debate. your heart ached with the raw vulnerability of your exchange, yet for the first time, you felt a fragile bridge forming between your fears and chris’s unwavering support.

and in that quiet, amidst the shadows and the echoes of your argument, a fragile understanding began to take shape—one that might, if nurtured, bridge the divide between your hearts and heal the wounds that had kept you both apart.

𝜗𝒞

the invitation to dinner at chris’s house felt both exhilarating and daunting for you. the idea of being part of a family gathering—a far cry from your own fractured home life—was both thrilling and intimidating.

the sturniolo house looked like something out of a postcard, the kind with perfectly manicured lawns and warm lights glowing from within. it was the kind of home that promised safety, stability—everything you’d never had. chris parked the car and gave you one of his easy smiles, the kind that usually made you feel like you could conquer anything, but tonight it barely reached you.

“you ready?” he asked, voice full of optimism as he turned off the engine.

you nodded, though your stomach was a knot of nerves. feeling like the plastic one among a garden of real, breathing things. and now, sitting here on this impossibly quiet street, you couldn’t help but think about how you’d never be the “best american girl” that chris’ family probably wanted for him.

the door opened to a flood of warmth, both from the house and the people inside. the air smelled of something delicious—rosemary, maybe, and roasted chicken. marylou was the first to greet you, her smile wide and welcoming, though it felt more like a spotlight than a comfort.

“hi, sweetheart! we’ve heard so much about you!” she gushed, pulling you into a hug that was more familiar than you were ready for.

“thank you, mrs. sturniolo,” you replied, your voice small and hesitant.

“oh, call me marylou!” she insisted, her hands gripping your shoulders as she held you at arm’s length, examining you with a look that was both kind and curious. “we’re so glad you could join us. chris never stops talking about you!”

you forced a smile, the words catching in your throat. what could you possibly say to that? the truth would be a disaster, but lying felt like choking on your own breath. so you just nodded, trying to ease the anxiety that buzzed under your skin like a thousand tiny needles. marylou was warm and welcoming, but her kindness only made you more anxious. you couldn’t help but think about your own mom, how different she was from the picture-perfect mother marylou seemed to be. what would they think if they knew about the nights you spent cleaning up after your mother, the times you had to be the adult when she couldn’t be?

jimmy appeared next, tall and imposing with a firm handshake and a face that was harder to read. “good to finally meet you,” he said, his tone polite but measured, like he was trying to size you up in just a few words.

“nice to meet you too, mr. sturniolo,” you replied, hoping your voice didn’t betray how much you felt like an intruder in their world.

“jimmy,” he corrected with a nod, but you could feel the unspoken assessment in his gaze, a weight that pressed down on you with every second.

the triplets entered the room like a burst of energy, and the tension shifted, just a little. nick, with his bright, boyish charm, came at you first, grinning from ear to ear.

“hey, finally! the famous coffee shop girl,” he teased, pulling you into a quick hug. “chris wouldn’t shut up about how cool you are.”

you managed a laugh, the sound more hollow than you intended. “i could say the same about you. he talks about you guys all the time.”

matt followed, quieter but no less genuine, giving you a smile that felt more like a lifeline than anything else. “good to see you again,” he said, his voice a little softer, more reserved.

you smiled back, grateful for the familiarity. “you too, matt. thanks for all your help with my tutoring.”

“no problem,” he said, his eyes understanding more than his words let on.

and then there was justin, the one you’d heard about but never met. he stepped forward with a more distant smile, like he was trying to figure out where you fit into this picture.

“so, you’re the girl who’s stolen chris away from us, huh?” he said, his tone half-joking but with an edge that made you uncomfortable.

“uh, i guess so,” you replied, shifting awkwardly.

dinner at the sturniolos’ felt like stepping onto a stage with no script, and you were in the spotlight, unprepared and unsure of your lines. dinner was served in a dining room that looked like it belonged in a magazine. the table was set with what seemed like a million utensils, each one gleaming under the soft light. you fumbled for the right fork, your fingers trembling slightly as you tried to keep your focus on the conversation buzzing around you.

they asked you about school—whether you were planning to go back, what your major would’ve been, what your future looked like now. every question felt like a tiny cut, opening wounds you didn’t want them to see. you stammered through vague answers, feeling the disappointment settle like a stone in your chest.

“oh, i’m just taking things one day at a time,” you lied, the words bitter on your tongue. “i’m not really sure what the future holds.”

marylou’s face softened with concern, but it only made you feel worse. “it’s important to take care of yourself,” she said gently. “you’re young—you have plenty of time to figure it out.”

but you knew better. time was something you couldn’t afford, not with the bills piling up and your mom’s condition growing worse by the day. you could see it in their eyes—they didn’t understand. how could they? this wasn’t their world. their worries were about grades and careers, not about whether there’d be enough money to keep the lights on.

chris tried to steer the conversation toward lighter topics, but it was no use. every word felt like another reminder of how different your lives were, how far apart you were from the kind of future they imagined for their son.

you felt like you were drowning, every breath a struggle as you tried to keep up with their lively chatter. they laughed and teased each other, stories flowing effortlessly, while you sat there, every smile forced, every laugh hollow.

it was matt who noticed first, his sharp eyes catching the tension in your shoulders and the way you kept your answers short and guarded. he didn’t say anything, but the slight frown on his face told you he understood. across the table, matt caught your eye, offering you a small, reassuring smile. it was a silent reminder that you weren’t completely alone here, that someone understood at least a part of your life. but even his quiet support couldn’t erase the feeling that you were out of place—a square peg in a round hole.

nick, oblivious as always, kept the conversation going, asking you about your favorite books, movies, everything that felt light and easy, but you couldn’t shake the weight in your chest. you could barely meet their eyes, every question a reminder of how much you didn’t belong here, how you’d never be the kind of girl they wanted for chris.

chris reached under the table, his hand finding yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. you looked at him, trying to find comfort in his smile, but even that felt distant, like it was just out of reach. he believed in you, you knew that, but right now, it wasn’t enough. you were drowning in your own insecurities, the fear that you’d never be good enough for him, for his family, for anyone.

as the night dragged on, you couldn’t help but feel like you were playing a role in a play you didn’t understand, the words heavy and unfamiliar on your tongue. the sturniolos were everything you weren’t—successful, confident, a family that had it all together. and you were just… you. the girl with the broken home, the one who had to drop out of school to pay the bills, the one who had no idea what the future held.

by the time dessert was served, you felt like you couldn’t breathe, the walls closing in as their voices filled the room, warm and familiar, everything you’d never had. you excused yourself, slipping away to the bathroom, where you locked the door and sank to the floor, trying to catch your breath.

you felt like you were unraveling, every thread of your life coming apart as you sat there, the weight of their expectations crushing you. you weren’t their best american girl, the one who had it all together, the one who could make their son happy without bringing all your baggage with you.

and as you sat there, you felt the cruel reminder of everything you weren’t, everything you could never be. you were just a girl who was trying to survive, who had sacrificed everything for a future that felt more uncertain with each passing day.

when you finally emerged, your face composed but your heart heavy, you found chris waiting for you, concern etched on his face.

“are you okay?” he asked softly, his hand reaching for yours.

you nodded, forcing a smile. “yeah, i’m fine. just needed a minute.”

but you weren’t fine, and as the night wore on, you knew it would be a long time before you felt anything close to okay again. dinner continued, the sturniolos oblivious to the turmoil in your mind. they laughed, they shared stories, they embraced the easy camaraderie that comes from years of being a family. but you were adrift, caught between the image of who they thought you were and the reality you couldn’t escape.

as the evening wound down and the sturniolos began clearing the table, chris walked you to the door. the night air was cool against your skin, a welcome relief from the warmth of the house. he turned to you, his eyes searching yours.

“you did great in there,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “they loved you.”

you wanted to believe him, but the doubt lingered, clinging to you like a second skin. “thanks,” you whispered, your voice heavy with the weight of unspoken fears. “but i’m not sure i’m the girl they think i am.”

chris frowned, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “you’re exactly who you’re supposed to be. and they’ll see that. i see that.”

his words were meant to comfort, but they only deepened the ache inside you. because as much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were a square peg trying to fit into a round hole, that no matter how hard you tried, you would never be the girl who belonged at that dinner table, in that world.

as you said your goodbyes and walked away, you couldn’t help the word “imposter” echoing in your mind—a painful reminder that sometimes, no matter how much you try to fit in, you can’t change who you are or where you come from. and maybe, just maybe, that was okay. even if it didn’t feel that way tonight.

𝜗𝒞

inside, marylou watched you leave, her heart heavy with concern. she turned to chris, who was still standing by the door, his eyes following you through the window. there was a softness in his gaze, a tenderness that made her heart ache.

“chris,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “can we talk for a moment?”

“‘course, mom. what’s up?” chris replied, sensing the seriousness in her tone.

marylou hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “i’ve been thinking about tonight, about y/n.”

chris’s brow furrowed slightly. “what about her?”

marylou sighed, reaching out to place a hand on his. “i can see how much you care about her, chris. it’s written all over your face. but i have to ask—are you sure this is worth it? i mean, the two of you are in such different places. she’s carrying so much on her shoulders, taking care of her mother, trying to hold everything together. and you… you have all these dreams, these goals. you’ve already applied to art programs all over the world.”

chris’s eyes widened slightly. “how do you know about that?”

marylou smiled faintly. “a mother knows. i saw the letters, the applications. i’m proud of you for going after what you want, but have you thought about what that means for her? for the two of you?”

chris looked down, his thoughts swirling. He hadn’t told you about the applications yet, hadn’t found the right moment to share that part of his life. he loved you, but there was a gnawing doubt, a fear that maybe his mother was right, that maybe your paths were destined to diverge.

marylou squeezed his hand. “i’m not saying you should give up on her. but i want you to think about what you’re asking of each other. is it fair to hold on if it’s only going to bring more pain down the road?”

chris felt his heart clench at the thought. he wanted to believe that love could conquer all, that the connection you shared was strong enough to weather any storm. but as he looked up at his mother, he saw the wisdom in her eyes, the concern for his future, and for yours.

“i don’t know, mom,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t know if i could ever let her go.”

marylou nodded, her expression softening. “just promise me you’ll think about it, chris. i know you want to help her, to be there for her. but sometimes, love means making the hard decisions, even if it means letting each other go.”

chris swallowed hard, the weight of his mother’s words settling on his shoulders. “i will, i promise.”

marylou leaned in, kissing his forehead softly. “i just want what’s best for both of you, chris. whatever that might be.”

as chris sat there, the room quiet around him, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a way for the two of you to find a future together—or if you were destined to become another sad song, another missed opportunity, as your paths inevitably drifted apart.

the weeks had slipped by in a rhythm you were starting to get used to—late-night conversations with chris, shared laughs over cups of coffee, and those stolen moments where everything else in the world seemed to fade away. but lately, chris had seemed a little distant, preoccupied. you chalked it up to his art, the way he sometimes got lost in his work, but there was something else, a tension that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

then, one evening, during one of your dates at a cozy little restaurant you both loved, chris seemed especially quiet. the two of you were tucked away in a corner booth, surrounded by the warm glow of candlelight, your usual banter replaced by a heavy silence.

“hey, what’s going on?” you asked, reaching across the table to place your hand over his. “you’ve been a million miles away all night.”

chris looked down at your hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if he were trying to find the right words. finally, he took a deep breath and met your eyes, his expression a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

“i got some news,” he began, his voice careful, as though he were stepping onto fragile ground. “and... i have been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “what is it, chris? you can tell me anything.”

he hesitated, then blurted out, “i got offered a residency at the école des beaux-arts in paris.”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. paris? the prestigious école des beaux-arts? it was the kind of opportunity that only came once in a lifetime. but as the reality of what he was saying sank in, so did the implications.

“that’s... that’s amazing, chris,” you managed to say, your voice tinged with both awe and dread. “i’m so proud of you.”

he smiled, but it was a small, uncertain smile, as if he knew there was more to say. “i didn’t tell you because i wasn’t sure if it would actually happen. i didn’t want to get our hopes up, but... now it’s real.”

you nodded, trying to keep your emotions in check. “when do you leave?”

“in september,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s for an entire school year, but if it goes well, it could turn into something more permanent.”

the weight of his words hung in the air between you, heavy and unspoken. this was everything chris had ever wanted, everything he’d been working toward for as long as you’d known him. and you were genuinely happy for him—ecstatic, even—but beneath that happiness was a growing sense of loss.

chris watched your reaction closely, his eyes searching yours for something, anything, that would reassure him. “moonie, i don’t know how to do this,” he confessed. “i don’t know how to leave you behind.”

the pain in his voice cut through you like a knife. you knew what he wasn’t saying, what he was afraid to admit—that this residency could mean the end of your relationship, the end of everything you’d built together.

“you shouldn’t have to choose, chris,” you said softly, though your heart was breaking. “this is your dream. you have to go.”

he looked at you, his expression torn. “but what about us? i don’t want to lose you.”

you forced a smile, even as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “you’re not losing me, chris. you’re gaining everything you’ve ever worked for. i’ll always be proud of you, no matter what.”

chris squeezed your hand, his grip tightening as if he were holding on for dear life. “i wish... i wish things could be different.”

you nodded, blinking away the tears. “me too.”

the rest of the evening passed in a blur of bittersweet conversation, both of you trying to ignore the inevitable. but in your heart, you knew that the clock was ticking, that the moment chris stepped onto that plane to paris, everything would change. and as much as it hurt, you also knew that you couldn’t stand in the way of his dreams, no matter how much you loved him.

𝜗𝒞

spring had arrived, painting the world in soft pastels and fragrant blooms, but the season’s warmth couldn’t chase away the growing sense of dread that hung between you and chris. each day felt like a countdown to the inevitable, and though you both tried to hide it, the weight of his upcoming departure loomed over every conversation, every touch, every stolen glance.

you walked together through the park, the cherry blossoms above you shedding petals like gentle tears. chris held your hand, but there was a tension in his grip, as if he were afraid that if he let go, you might disappear. the sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the world, but all you could feel was the darkness closing in.

neither of you spoke much, the silence between you heavy and charged with everything left unsaid. you both knew what was coming, and the closer it got, the harder it became to ignore the truth that you’d been avoiding for weeks.

finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. you stopped walking, pulling your hand from his and turning to face him. the words were stuck in your throat, but you forced them out, knowing that this conversation was as necessary as it was painful.

“chris,” you began, your voice trembling, “we need to talk about paris.”

he looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and fear. “i know,” he said quietly, as if he’d been dreading this moment as much as you had.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i don’t want you to go to paris thinking about me,” you said, your voice breaking. “i don’t want you to hold back or hesitate because of us.”

chris’s face crumpled, and he reached out to you, his hands gripping your shoulders as if he were afraid to let you go. “i can’t just stop thinking about you, y/n,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “you’re everything to me.”

tears welled up in your eyes, and you shook your head, trying to be strong, even though every word felt like it was tearing you apart. “but that’s just it, chris. you have this incredible opportunity, and i don’t want to be the reason you miss out on any of it. i don’t want you to feel torn between your dreams and... and us.”

he looked at you, desperate to find a way to make it all work, to keep everything from falling apart. “but we can make it work,” he insisted, his voice cracking. “we’ll figure it out. we’ll make it through this.”

you shook your head again, the tears spilling over now. “it’s not that simple, chris. you’ll be on the other side of the world, and I’ll be here, and... and we both know how hard that will be. i don’t want us to end up resenting each other because of the distance, because of the what-ifs and the maybes.”

chris’s grip on your shoulders tightened, as if holding onto you could keep everything from slipping away. “so, what are you saying?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid of your answer.

you swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to say the words you knew needed to be said. “maybe... maybe we should end things now,” you said, your heart breaking with each syllable. “before it gets any harder. before we both end up hurt.”

chris stared at you, his eyes wide with shock and pain. “you don’t mean that,” he said, his voice shaking. “you can’t mean that.”

“i do,” you whispered, though it felt like a lie even as you said it. “i love you too much to hold you back, sunny. and i love you too much to let us fall apart slowly, to watch us unravel because we couldn’t let go when we needed to.”

the tears were streaming down your face now, and chris pulled you into his arms, holding you as tightly as he could, as if he could fuse you together and keep you from slipping away. “i don’t want to lose you,” he choked out, his voice thick with tears.

“and i don’t want to lose you,” you sobbed into his chest. “but we can’t hold on to something that’s only going to hurt us in the end.”

you stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other as the world around you grew darker, the spring air turning chilly as the sun dipped below the horizon. neither of you wanted to let go, neither of you wanted to face the reality that was closing in on you.

but eventually, you both knew it was time. with a final, heart-wrenching kiss, you pulled away, wiping the tears from your eyes and trying to steady yourself. “you’re going to do amazing things, sunny,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. “and i’ll always be proud of you.”

he nodded, his own tears glistening in the fading light. “and i’ll always love you, moonie. no matter where i am. please don’t let your dreams go. the world deserves to see your art, angel.”

you gave him a small, sad smile, knowing that this was the beginning of the end, the moment where your paths started to diverge. and as you walked away from him, leaving the park and the spring blossoms behind, you felt the weight of the future pressing down on you—a future without chris, without the person who had meant everything to you.

and though you knew it was the right thing to do, it didn’t make the pain any less real. the two of you had tried so hard to hold on, to make it work, but sometimes love wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between dreams and reality.

𝜗𝒞

the weeks that followed were a blur of heartache and routine. you threw yourself into your work, trying to numb the pain that gnawed at you. each shift at the café felt like an eternity, a constant reminder of what you’d lost.

one evening, after another long day, you trudged home to the small, cluttered apartment you shared with your mother. she was sitting at the kitchen table, her face flushed with alcohol. the dim light cast long shadows, adding to the oppressive atmosphere of the room.

as you walked in, she looked up with a vacant expression, her words slurred but surprisingly clear. “you know, kiddo,” she began, her voice soft and almost gentle, “life’s... it’s not easy. it’s like a constant fight. i see you trying so hard, and it’s like... you’ve got this light in you. don’t let it go out. don’t... don’t let it be for nothing.”

you were taken aback by her unexpected clarity. the vulnerability in her voice, the rare moment of motherly concern, struck a chord deep within you. you sat down, your heart aching, as she continued to speak in a quiet, rambling monologue about her regrets and missed opportunities.

but the next morning, when you awoke, her words were already a distant memory, overshadowed by the haze of her intoxicated state. she was back to her usual self, lost in her own world of highs and lows, her brief moment of insight forgotten.

despite her fleeting clarity, her words lingered in your mind, echoing through the silent corners of your heart. they were a stark reminder of the dreams you harbored, the life you wanted to reclaim, and the harsh reality of your current existence. they offered a glimmer of hope amidst the despair, urging you to keep moving forward, even as the world seemed determined to keep you tethered to the past.

chris stumbled through the rain, his once-pristine outfit now clinging to him like a second skin, saturated and heavy. each drop felt like a judgment, each gust of wind a reminder of the chasm between his art and his heart. he was drenched to the bone, but he barely noticed. his mind was a storm, as tumultuous as the weather around him, swirling with remnants of the love that had slipped through his grasp.

his heart ached with a familiar ache—a blend of longing and loss—as he approached your home, the apartment complex that now seemed more distant than ever. the light from inside spilled through the gaps in the curtains, casting warm pools of light onto the wet pavement. he raised his hand, trembling slightly, and knocked on the door.

the door swung open to reveal your mother, her face shadowed by the cigarette she held between her fingers, smoke curling lazily into the night air. her gaze, though steady, held a mix of curiosity and wariness. she looked at chris with an understanding that came from witnessing her daughter’s silent struggles.

“you must be the one who stole my daughter’s heart,” she said, her voice a gravelly whisper. there was a note of reluctant admiration in her tone, mingled with the faintest hint of something else—perhaps hope or desperation.

chris nodded, his voice nearly lost in the rain’s cacophony. “is she here?”

“she’s in the shower,” your mother replied, stepping aside to let him in. “come on in. we’ll wait for her.”

as chris stepped into the warmth of the house, he was immediately enveloped by a heavy sense of confinement—both literal and emotional. the interior was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of cigarettes and a faint undertone of stale beer. they moved to the living room, where chris sank onto a worn-out sofa while your mother took a seat opposite him, her eyes reflecting a guarded empathy.

“i know you’re probably wondering why i’m here,” chris began, his voice hoarse and tired. “but i needed to see her. i needed to understand.”

your mother exhaled slowly, releasing a cloud of smoke into the room. “you know,” she started, her voice softening, “she was always so sensitive as a child. she never let it show, but she felt everything deeply. when her father left, she blamed herself, even though she shouldn’t have. she tried to be strong, to make up for what was missing, but it wore her down.”

chris listened, absorbing the weight of her words. the room seemed to close in on him, the silence punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the rain against the windows. your mother’s eyes held a sadness that mirrored his own.

“y/n took on more than she could handle,” she continued, her tone a mix of regret and resignation. “i couldn’t be there for her—i was too wrapped up in my own failures. she’s had to be a caretaker, always putting others before herself. but lately, with you, i’ve seen a change. she’s been happier, more like herself. she wouldn’t tell me and i’m too coward to ask questions anymore but you’ve made a difference. and for that, i’m grateful.” chris nodded, your mother’s unexpected words hitting him like a ton of bricks. “she’s a good kid, you’d be a fool to let her go— i know i am.”

the sound of the bathroom door creaking open broke the heavy silence. chris’s heart skipped a beat as he saw you emerge, in a set of pyjamas and droplets of water still clinging to your hair. your eyes widened in surprise when they landed on him, a mix of confusion and anxiety crossing your face.

“chris?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“i needed to talk to you,” chris said, standing up and moving toward you. “can we go outside? just for a minute?”

you nodded, your gaze flickering between him and your mother, who gave you a reassuring nod. together, you stepped out into the rain, the cool droplets mingling with the warmth of your lingering emotions.

as the night enveloped you both, the rain drummed softly around you, a gentle, melancholic accompaniment to the conversation that was about to unfold.

the rain cascaded around you both, turning the world into a blurry, shimmering painting of melancholy and despair. chris stood before you, drenched and desperate, his eyes pleading with a depth of emotion that seemed to defy the storm's intensity. his voice was raw, breaking through the rain as he spoke with a fervor born of both hope and anguish.

“i can’t be anything without you,” he cried out, "i find myself unable to draw breath or live without you. you have woven yourself into every fiber of my being, occupying my thoughts, my dreams, my very essence. without you, i am lost—unable to be or do anything of meaning. you are my muse, y/n, the very air i breathe." his words cutting through the tumult of the storm. “come with me to paris, i leave tonight you can come with me. we can build a life there. we can be—everything we’ve dreamed of. i need you, y/n. please.”

“i can’t,” you choked out, your voice breaking under the weight of your grief. “i can’t leave my mom. she needs me. i—”

your voice faltered, but the flood of reasons came pouring out in a torrent of desperation. “i am not right for you, chris. i can’t even give you what you want. i’ve got nothing to offer. i am too broken, too caught up in this life that’s crumbling around me. i would ruin you. i’d drag you down.”

as each reason left your lips, chris’s eyes filled with more tears, his resolve unshaken by your pleas. with every reason you listed, he responded, his voice breaking through your objections, “i love you, y/n.” the words were tender, insistent, and utterly unyielding. his repetition of those three words was both a comfort and a torment, a balm that only seemed to amplify your pain.

“stop,” you cried out, frustration and anguish mingling in your voice. “stop saying that. it doesn’t change anything. it doesn’t make me any less broken.”

for a moment, silence enveloped you both, the rain’s rhythmic patter the only sound in the quiet space between you. chris looked at you with a mixture of sorrow and determination, and then he spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. “those aren’t reasons to me. you are everything i have ever wanted. you’re my heart, my soul. i need you.”

tears streamed down your face, blending with the rain, as you felt the weight of his words, the finality of his plea. he continued, his voice trembling with every utterance, “please, y/n. i need you with me. i can’t imagine my life without you.”

you reached out, pulling him into a desperate kiss, one filled with all the love and sorrow that words couldn’t convey. the kiss was a blend of passion and farewell, an attempt to capture a lifetime of feeling in a single, fleeting moment. when you finally pulled away, both of you breathless and teary-eyed, the gravity of the situation became undeniable.

“i can’t,” you repeated softly, your voice breaking. “i just can’t. this is the end.”

chris leaned in for one final, heart-wrenching kiss. it was slow and aching, as if trying to savor every last second before the inevitable goodbye. as the kiss lingered, it felt like an eternity, a final, beautiful moment suspended in time. but even as you both struggled to end it, you knew it had to be over. you pulled away, your hearts breaking with the weight of the farewell.

with a heavy heart, you walked back into the house, your tears mixing with the rain on your face. the warmth of the interior felt hollow compared to the storm outside, and you collapsed onto the floor, the sobs that erupted from you visceral and agonizing. you were consumed by a pain that seemed to tear at your very soul.

your mother rushed to your side, her arms enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and unconditional love. she held you close, her own tears mingling with yours, her kisses on your forehead gentle and soothing. “it’s okay,” she whispered, her voice a tender murmur in the midst of your sobs. “it’s okay. i’m here.”

as you wept, her embrace was a fragile comfort, a small beacon of solace amidst the overwhelming grief. the rain continued to fall outside, its relentless rhythm a mournful echo of the love that had slipped through your fingers.

𝜗𝒞

the morning sun filtered through the thin curtains, casting a pale light over the room. you lay in bed, feeling the aftershocks of the emotional whirlwind from the night before. the storm had passed, leaving behind a quieter, more reflective day.

your mother’s footsteps approached with a newfound determination. she entered the room, her demeanor more resolute than you’d seen in a long time. sitting on the edge of your bed, she took a deep breath, her gaze steady and earnest.

“i am going to rehab. i need to get better, not just for me, but for you too.”

the gravity of her words hit you like a tidal wave. you stared at her, trying to reconcile this new resolve with the image of her that had been marred by addiction. “rehab?” you echoed, trying to grasp the significance of this decision.

“yes,” she said, nodding. “i can’t stand to see myself ruining more of your life, especially after everything that happened the other night. it’s time for me to step away and focus on getting better. but i need you to listen to me.”

you sat up, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. “what is it?

“when i come back,” she continued, her eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity, “i expect you to start focusing on yourself. i want you to pursue your art, to follow your dreams. it’s time for you to stop putting your life on hold for me.”

her words felt like a lifeline, pulling you from the depths of despair and giving you a glimpse of a future you’d almost forgotten. “but—”

“no,” she interrupted gently, placing a hand on yours. “no more excuses. you’ve put your dreams aside for too long. i need to make this right, and that means letting you live your life fully, without the burden of my problems.”

tears brimmed in your eyes, but this time they were a mixture of hope and fear. “i don’t know if i can—”

“you can,” she said firmly, her voice unwavering. “you have so much talent, so much potential. i’ve seen it in you, and i believe in you. when i come back, i want to see you thriving, not just surviving. i want you to be the artist you’ve always dreamed of being.”

the promise in her words, the sincerity of her intention, was a beacon of hope that cut through the lingering darkness. you squeezed her hand, feeling a flicker of determination ignite within you.

“okay,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “i’ll follow my dreams momma.”

“good,” she said, a smile touching her lips. “that’s what i want. to see you finally living the life you deserve. i am going to get better, and i’m going to make sure that when i come back, things are different for both of us.”

as she stood to leave, the weight of her decision seemed to settle over you like a cloak of both comfort and challenge. you watched her go, a fragile but potent hope blooming within you. the path ahead would be difficult, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like there was a clear direction—a chance to reclaim your dreams and build a future, even as you navigated the complexities of healing and change.

the years had passed in a blur of creative fervor and personal growth. you found yourself standing in your studio, surrounded by the pieces that had become your voice, your outlet, your lifeline. the gallery was bustling with the energy of a successful exhibition, and as you moved through the space, a sense of accomplishment filled you.

a gallery assistant approached, her face alight with excitement. “you won’t believe this,” she said, her voice barely containing her enthusiasm. “someone has bought every single piece of your work. every last one.”

you blinked, a mix of surprise and curiosity washing over you. “every piece?”

“yes,” she confirmed, nodding eagerly. “they want to meet you. they’re waiting in the back room.”

a flutter of anticipation gripped your chest as you followed her through the gallery. you entered the back room and stopped short. there, standing amidst your art, was chris. his appearance had changed—his face now framed by a beard, his hair longer, his style different. yet, despite the differences, his eyes remained the same: those summer eyes, deep and familiar, that had once held so much promise and pain.

“sunny?” you whispered, your heart skipping a beat as the recognition hit you.

he turned to you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “moonie,” he said, his voice holding a mix of nostalgia and affection.

ᨳུ⠀ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @l34n @sofieeeeex @sturniolossss @eternaldecisions @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 to be added click here

my inbox is always open !!! pls feed it some content 🧸🫐 likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated.

[rilakeila]

five times when the secret was almost revealed and when it did, where you and mattheo are secretly dating, teaser

word count 1.8k fandom harry potter pairing mattheo riddle x fem!animagus! reader warnings none notes hints at the animagus story, lowkey -3-

request i saw your post about wanting requests so anything mattheo as there’s never another content for him!!! but more specifically him with like an opposite gf!!! like she’s sweet and girly and kind!!! how do you think he’d be around her??? i turned this request into something new !

SECRECY kept your relationship with mattheo hidden from the hogwarts students. there was nothing shameful, just preferred to keep it private. truly, mattheo did not feel comfortable in having to hear comments about how hogwarts’ sweetheart ended up with the delinquent or even, the dark lord’s son (or that he was the most affectionate boyfriend, he would never hear the end of being such a smitten lover). you respected his wishes, continuing to share your secret kisses away from the public. though, it started to be impossible to keep away as time had passed on, you were certain that someone was going to catch you.

slip-up one: the late-night library study session

“it’s so nice having my girlfriend be the head girl of the school, comes with a lot of privileges, like staying out for so long,” mattheo said while procrastinating for the transfiguration test. you rolled your eyes, knowing that he said it quite often. prior to being in a relationship with him, you were a prefect, which allowed you to have a good running for head girl. you, more than likely, save him and the other slytherin boys constantly from trouble than any other task that you have around the school.

“if it means ensuring you out of trouble, i’ll continue to keep my role,” you said, looking up to see that he stopped writing down his notes, “or, you’ll be out of luck if you don’t keep studying, love.”

he pouted before flipping to the next page of his notes, “i don’t think i did this much studying before you.”

“well, if you can be on probation for delinquency, it'll be worse if you have to do it for academics. come on, your quidditch match eligibility relies on this paper otherwise you’re out for a week until the next test,” you said, leaning to peck the pout off, which instantly lifted into a small smile before resuming on your own work.

“yes ma’am,” before continuing, he pulled your chair closer to him, wrapping his arm your waist, hand resting on your hip. there was one way to heat up your face, pressing your lips into a tight line, fighting the smile. he knew that this action, even if it was reoccurring, would always make you feel giddy. the smile that you just wanted push away, he continued to write from the book, “you okay there, love?”

“of course,” you cleared your throat to maintain composure as you written in your notes. 

moments passed, a quarter left done of your notes, but what you did not notice that the boy next to you did not keep up with his work, opting to draw your side profile as well as sketching certain deconstructed parts such as just your eyes in one section, lips, even in different forms such as your smile or when you were talking with how it formed. taking a break, you looked to your side, only to see your boyfriend leaning on his elbow, sketching on the paper with other, a grin on his face. you reached out to pinch his cheek, wiggling it slightly.

he sat up, pushing the notebook closer to you, “you like it? here’s your animagus form, little kitty. and the little crescent on your cheek, and the sparkle near your eye. then, here’s you, right now, i drew big sparkle things in there because your eyes twinkle.”

“this is nice, i love it,” your finger traced around the paper, looking at each doodle. you always loved the details that he puts in every piece he has, loving all of his art, but his quick draws always had a much more special place in your heart. 

“just for you, love,” he gently tilted your chin upwards with his fingertips, his eyes fixed on your face with tenderness, savoring the moment. leaning in, lips almost touching, mattheo pulled apart quickly, which you heard footsteps, now knowing the reason of the suddenness.

you turned around to see who the additional person may have been aside from madam pince, but she was aware of your late night study sessions, despite always trying to shoo you both away. luckily, your continuance of volunteerism in the library since your fourth year, upkeeping her strict standards, gave you some leeway as well as your past prefect and current head girl positions. you were wrong in guessing who it was, seeing the disillusionment charm, you waved your wand, countering the spell, “blaise?”

your head turned, hearing soft but obvious steps, casting the counter spell, “and of course, lorenzo? what are you both doing up past hours in the library?”

“just scouting around, actually trying to get into the restricted section,” blaise nodded towards where they needed to go.

“and what about you, two? even outside of friend group hours, i feel betrayed,” lorenzo slung his arm around your shoulder, walking towards mattheo.

“we’re just studying, enzo, otherwise you’re out one player for quidditch,” you patted the hand that was slung on your shoulder before sitting down back into your seat, organizing all of the papers that were sprawled out onto the table. 

“sure, just the two of you,” blaise sat on top of the corner, looking through the notes, “or, do you have something that you both aren’t telling us, just as you were sitting a tad too close before?”

mattheo snorted before slipping blaise a small note which contained the information that snape required you to assist in helping him study, “snape’s orders.”

“an alibi, i’m next in line for tutoring, ms. head girl,” enzo raised his hand, in which you just laughed and nodded, agreeing, also catching the quick snark on mattheo’s face. 

you eyed the watch on your wrist, seeing it was reaching you and mattheo’s end of tutoring hours, meaning madam pince would be around the corner to tell you both off and for mattheo to ensure that you would reach your dormitory safely. you looked up to the boys once more, “alright, madam pince will be around at this time, as head girl, i do advise you to head out now before we all are in trouble. “

“but,”

“mattheo will get the information from the book you need tomorrow, pince has all of the books there charmed after some incident with some second years, come on,” you said.

“fine,” lorenzo whined before being smacked up his head by blaise. rubbing his hand from the harsh hit, he looked back to still see mattheo who was writing in his notebook, “come on, mattheo.”

“alright, i just need to finish this last set of words. go on without me,” he waved his hand, dismissing lorenzo. you couldn’t help notice when looking at enzo who has an amused expression, probably at how mattheo was never the one to study. sharing a look with your friend who just had a playful smirk before waving at you a goodbye, he casted the disillusionment spell. 

hearing the quiet shut of the doors of the library, you taken your seat next to your boyfriend who was just continuing his drawing of you, “you had me fooled, thinking you were actually doing your notes.”

“just to get rid of them, i always want pince to give me her permission of walking you late at night,” he smiled.

you returned the smile. though, there was a small worry that lorenzo and blaise did indeed just find out that you were dating, knowing that one of them was the gossip hound of the school. surely, he knew to keep secrets but lorenzo’s rumors would always start with a “what if so and so ended up…” and another person would ask another until the rumor ended up as being a fact due to the continuing relay to another, even if it was false news. you were more concerned for mattheo, as he truly wanted to keep the relationship a secret, as he said that he was not ready for the intrusion of others into his life. 

“hey, love.”

“yes, love?”

“do you think lorenzo knows about us? i wouldn’t want a rumor starting up or anything,” you held his free hand in both of yours, fingers massaging the back of his hand, which he truly enjoyed.

“no, we didn’t do anything, plus as long as he has some concrete evidence that rejects his hypothesis, he won’t speculate,” he placed his pen down, retrieving snape’s note that was near your corner of the table.

“okay, just making sure,” you nodded, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. you searched for any signs of doubt or concern within mattheo’s eyes, but there was a lack of wavering, then again, there was barely anything that trembled him.

“trust me, no on-“

“you two, get to your dorms immediately. if i have to round this corner, i will deduct house points,” madam pince’s sharp voice cut through the air, making you jump even if she routinely said the same thing most nights.

“good night, madam pince,” mattheo waved his wand, cleaning both of your spaces and into each of your book bags. a rushed hum was in response, which he always waited for, as if it was his alarm clock, letting him know that he was able to leave the library. with a silent understanding, you both turned to leave the library, walking side by side towards the exit. as you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, he extended his arm to you with a soft smile, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. no matter how often this happens, your breath always caught in your throat, slipping your hands into his, fingers naturally intertwining through with his. t he electricity that always sparked between you when you touched sent a thrill through your body, and you found yourself leaning into his side as you walked, relishing the closeness.

 the silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken emotions that hung heavy in the air. you couldn't help stealing glances at mattheo as you walked, taking in the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light, the way his smile softened when he looked at you.

"i'll see you tomorrow in class?" mattheo asked, his voice soft and hopeful.

"of course," you replied, your heart skipping a beat at the tenderness in his tone. "good night."

you leaned in, unable to resist the urge to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, feeling a rush of warmth spread through your body at the contact. mattheo returned the gesture, his lips brushing against your forehead in a lingering caress.

"good night, love," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, before reluctantly letting your hand go, knowing that you needed to go to your respective dormitories.

even if with his certainty that there was no knowledge of your relationship and still in secrecy, there was still a bit of worry. though, just to be selfish, even for once, it would be pleasant to show a private, but not a secret of your relationship. it would have been less stress onto yourself, but whatever happened would happen. as long as it was with him.

incomplete, lmk if you

want to get tagged

in the complete fic.

[cerise-grenadine]

so, when @dearestdo3 posted her lovely Pokémon drawing, it made me want to sketch my old team too! well, i should say teamS because i couldn’t choose in the end 😩

so here’s the roundup: (it’s more of what team would represent him rather than who he’d pick of course 🤭) (and it's my AU!Snape so no Lily or does involved)

Young angry Death Eater Sev.

Corvisquire — his patronus is a raven, and although at this age he wouldn’t be able to cast one, i still had to include one bc it represents him quite well. (not too fond of other raven Pokémon, i hesitated with Corviknight but find him too sturdy/metal-looking)

Seviper — he obviously needs a snake Pokémon. not my fave snake design but i usually pick this one for two reasons: can’t ignore that he’s called SEViper, and i like that he is canonically Zangoose’s rival who reminds me of McGonagall/Gryffindor :D

Alolan Marowak — this Sev has traumatic mommy issues so Cubone is a nice pick, and the sinister witchy Ghost evolution is 👌🏻 (tried to draw him in an agressive action pose and failed miserably alas, so he’s just waiting ominously)

Duskull — i had to pick at least one Death Eater Pokémon, so the death mark one it is.

Absol — he’s just there for the gloomy emo vibe 🤌🏻

Crobat — well. he’s a BAT. a COOL BAT.

thought about drawing a Voldie-Serperior in the background and then got lazy so please imagine he's there 😌

Chiller adult Sev. pissed off by his work and moldy voldy coming back, but overall has been working on his issues and is much more in control of himself. healthier habits and hobbies.

Seviper & Corvisquire are still there bc they’re very representative of him

Gloom — i wanted a poison Pokémon for potion reasons. Gloom and her oozing seemed an interesting pick — especially since i accidently gave his gf a Bellossom

Hatterene — she’s so witchy and so gender ✨i felt she was not unlike his adult self, solitary, a bit sinister, magical and graceful.

Umbreon — he’s here for the emo vibes but chiller than Absol

Sinistea — magical tea for the magic British school. again chill vibes but also a little bit dark — fits Sev.

Muireann. what can i say, she’s all fluff and love and music

Blissey — she’s nurturing, she’s caring, she’s wholesome.

Vulpix — she’s also young and fiery

Gourgeist — Gourgeist is a redhead jack-o-lantern, and in French she’s named after banshees, so she made sense in the team of an Irish witch.

Wooloo — a wee happy lamb! also they have the same hairdo.

Bellossom & Meloetta are both here for musical reasons: Muireann is a dancer and singer and music is one of the most important things in her life — she’d have musical Pokémon.

[goomyloid]

What was your process for making the Noelle amv, if you don't mind sharing?

hii! im not sure how eloquently or clearly ill be able to explain it but i definitely have some pictures you can look at!

(the video)

i actually got the idea while i was away on a trip with very limited wifi -- it wasn't Trust Me that i got an AMV idea for first, but instead it was one of 4syu's other songs, There's Nobody. for such a happy sounding song it really made me so sad, to the point where if i tried to sing it to myself id get choked up by the chorus LMAO. it was baddd

but basically i was rapidly trying to find both songs on spotify so i could listen to them offline, and it only took me a few loops of Trust Me and thinking about the original MV to make me go "ohhhh. how can i make this about noelle." And so i did .

i was thinking about doing a storyboard, but in the past, i've found that doing storyboards for animations/AMVs lowkey... kills my motivation altogether... SAD... but i saw the whole video so clearly in my head, and i didnt want to make the same mistake i made before... so i went right to doing quick sketches (while still on my trip...) just so i could get the ideas out of my head

i was torn on what to do with my style at the time, whether i wanted to make it more similar to the original video, or to her canon appearance, or to MY style and how i draw her. i think it kind of ended up as an amalgamation of all three...? at the very least, her light world color palette definitely was more bland and desaturated, like i purposefully wasn't trying to do anything special with her colors.

after that point, and getting maybe a few of the actual drawings done, my motivation crashed again, and i left it all to marinate for nearly a week. it was baking, guys, it wasn't abandoned, listen to me, why are you throwing tomatoes at me,

i had up to about the "I dreamed about that again" animation done and stopped, and it wasn't until i decided to sit down and start editing it anyway that i really got in my groove again. i got all my little assets into a workable state so i could really try to sit down and make the video come to life and all

the really fun part was honestly working on the desktop backgrounds. i really wanted to limit colorpicking from the original video as much as possible, but i decided that making look as similar as possible to the original could help with the contrast i wanted to add later.

i drew these two backgrounds first. i was hoping i could somehow fit the bunker into the second one, but decided to do something different anyway. the second one's ui didn't actually change until later in the editing process.

drawing THESE were fun especially, and im happy with how they came out. i think the dark world icons are really cute still. one thing i really did know i wanted to do from the beginning was to turn the soul/undertale icon into the deltarune one.

i was worried if the shift from the Windows Field Background to the dark world would be too sudden, like you would just blink and suddenly it was all different, but i think it ended up all right...?

the not so fun part was drawing all the different boxes, lmao. it go really tedious by the end, so i tried to reuse as many of the same ones as i could.

a lot of copy-pasting and tracing rectangles for sure.

i also had to make sure the animations didnt Suck. i brute forced those things and used every last braincell i had in order to make those pictures move bros

fun fact. ive never animated hair like this before. or in any complex manner really. i had to use sooo much brain here... heres how it started vs. how it ended up

had my animator gf hype me up thru the whole thing... i was having a great time based on the filenames alone

aaaand then ummmm i edited it. i learned after effects like 1 month ago. never touched it before. i learned it for internship purposes and then used my newfound powers for evil it seems

i split the whole thing up into multiple compositions of course, but i probably could have split things up more... im sorry for having 84 layers on comp 3 its not my fault

editing a video in 12 fps was a fun change though -- very easy for my brain to go frame-by-frame, and yet still some of the timing ended up being off... tis the goomy way

like i said before, i started editing when i barely had half the drawings done, but seeing it all start to be in motion really pushed me to finish it up. and i mean Really. like i finished the whole thing maybe 48 hours after i first started editing.

and...i think that's it? i do a lot of discord art streaming to friends lately but i kinda kept this one more under wraps compared to usual, i think i just wanted to surprise everyone... look guys i remembered how to make a video! and it's three minutes! waow

sorry if this is way more than you asked for LMAO

also, the AMV hit 5k views on youtube today! ive never had a video do well like that so quickly! thank you!!

[juneberrie]

VIOLINIST GF — ATSV HEADCANONS . . . 🎻

characters : 1610 ! miles morales, earth-42 ! miles morales, pavitr prabhakar

author's note : this is very self indulgent sorry nawt sorry >:)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 1610 ! MILES MORALES

okay so in middle school his parents made him take piano so he can kind of help with reading sheet music if ur struggling with it

sooo encouraging!! he loves hearing u play and will literally applaud u. even if u play just like. twinkle twinkle little star or something he's so whipped and he just thinks you're amazing <3

has an entire sketchbook thats just filled up with drawings and sketches of you playing the violin. he'll sit and watch you practice and think, she looks so pretty. and BAM sketchbook is out and you're now his muse :]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ EARTH-42 ! MILES MORALES

woooahhhhh he's impressed!!! liek, very very impressed!! bc your fingers r moving so fast and does your wrist not hurt and is it hard to make sure youre playing the notes right and not screeching???

after going out and doing his prowler thingy, he loves coming home to hear you practicing whatever piece you're learning

its v calming to him!

whenever ur away and ur violin is out, he'll like. put rosin on ur bow, clean off any smudges, organize ur sheet music, literally just be cute and make life easier for u!!

omg and on the topic of him spoiling his gf, him buying you violin related things? little charms, earrings with violins on them, stuff like that <3

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ PAVITR PRABHAKAR

literally!! your biggest!! mfing!!! supporter!!! does NAWT give a shit if your violin is out of tune (like mine rn ughhhh) or if it was screechy or if you messed up he thinks u did amazing and he'll gonna tell you!

"my angel, you were amazing!! it sounded so magical <3"

i feel like pav knows how to play an instrument, and for ... purposes (😊) that instrument is the viola >:)

he'll listen to whatever your playing and then he learns it for himself on his viola. so he can surprise you!!!

i think violas have some different notes? (idk im not a violist lmao) so he does have a bit of trouble when he reads off your sheet music but he figures it out pretty quickly!

omg him doing duets w you!! he forces hobie and miles and gwen to watch ur impromptu recitals and glares at them until they clap

[honkytonk-hangman]

Teachers' Pet – Drabble

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: You need to come up with a lesson plan to teach your eighth graders about aerodynamics, only, you barely understand a word of it yourself. Luckily for you, your boyfriend has a pretty decent knowledge of the subject.

Warnings: None? references to being naked, jake being whipped and in lov with his gf mostly <3 a very poor understanding of aerodynamics from the author sorry lmao i know pew pew not flew flew

Notes: sorry this is just a rando drabble that came about today. its not the bigger Jake fic im working on, that's still coming soon. really like the idea of jake's girl teaching him not to sass her

Masterlist

For the first time all evening, you let out an almost feral sound of frustration, and push back your chair, so you can rest your head against the cool surface of your desk.

A few meters away, sat on the couch, your boyfriend looks up from the college football game he’d recorded last week, his eyes meeting yours when you peek up at him. You can tell he’s trying his best not to raise an eyebrow, or even worse, smirk, and you remind yourself to reward him for what must be a herculean effort later.

You know over the course of the last two hours that he’d spied your increasingly confused and frustrated expressions, but he knew better than to step in with advice before you asked for it.

“Help me?” you ask weakly, before your brain clicks with exactly how much of an idiot you’d been for trying to figure this out on your own, when you had the perfect tutor right here all along. You sit up, and place your chin in your hand, smiling sweetly, pleadingly.

“Please,” you add for good measure, making sure to sound like you were just a little pathetic.

To your dismay, it isn't that hard.

Jake pauses his game without looking, and regards your expression and body language, a flash of lust passing through his eyes, but it sobers a moment later when he pushes himself to stand. He pads over to you at your computer desk, smoothly dragging one of the kitchen chairs noiselessly with him, and you sit to attention, quickly making room for him.

“I can understand all of these words individually, but put them in a sentence, and I’m­–” you let out another frustrated growl, and Jake leans forward to look at the webpage you’ve got pulled up, his brown dipping just as his eyes cut across to stare amusedly at you.

“Aerodynamics? I don’t remember learning about this in the eighth grade,” Jake drawls, and once again, you make a note to reward him for his lack of clear smugness later on.

“Jake, why are there three million different types of drag? What is stall? Why is my brain not working?!” you half whine and half grumble into the side of his arm as he pulls closer, to slide your notebook and pen towards himself. With his other hand, he pushes back with one finger on your forehead, before leaning in to press a kiss to it.

“Lemme explain the basics first, alright?” he asks, before beginning to sketch out a diagram. “As for your brain though, not sure there’s a fix there.”

You allow him the one snark, but sit up, and pay attention as he begins explaining the very, very basics of aerodynamics to you, patiently stopping and answering your (admittedly, probably really dumb sounding questions) and reexplaining things kindly when it’s clear you don’t understand.

You quickly begin to take notes of your own, jotting them down for the lesson plan you’d come up with later, finding yourself a little shocked at just how good Jake actually is at teaching this.

-

“So, basically, by getting your jet to X speed, its able to like, use three different types of drag? Which is good, because it lets you more efficiently use fuel?” you clarify, not missing the spark of joy that flickers through his eyes, and Jake smiles, nodding.

“Exactly.”

“And the glide range is like, the opposite… when you’re slowing?” you squint at him, unsure if that’s right, but he simply nods, leaning back in his chair and spinning your pen in his fingers.

“Basically. I don’t think you’ll need to go in depth on that one,” he says, not pulling his eyes away from you, even as you turn to look down at your pages upon pages of notes.

“We’re gonna be doing this for the next four weeks, I should just get you to come in,” you joke, glancing up at him and expecting to see him roll his eyes, but instead, you see a light bulb pop.

“I can, if you want?” he starts excited, but turns a little more bashful. You sit up straighter, hands wrapping around his own and squeezing.

“I’d have to clear it with the school, but the kids would love that!” you match his enthusiasm, knowing how much your students already idolised your boyfriend, who they hadn’t ever met. They just thought the fact he was a naval aviator was the coolest thing possible.

“I’ll try and clear it with Cyclone, see if I can get him to lend a few of the others, too,” Jake’s soft smile melts you, and you wonder if he knows how sweet and lovesick he looks. You think he probably might, because you only ever saw this expression when you were alone together. You lean in press a kiss to his neck, then his chin, listening to his low chuckle, before he lowers his face to let you kiss his lips.

“Thank you for helping me understand all this,” you murmur against his mouth, which curves into a smirk, but you’ll let him have this one.

“Something, something, do anything for an ‘A’?” he says, and you pull away, scrunching your nose in playful disgust.

“You ruined it, Jake,” you laugh, shaking your head and dodging his hands as you gather up your notes and place them in your purse for the morning.

When you turn back around, he’s right there, arms circling your waist.

“Reckon I can salvage it, though,” he grins, leaning down to kiss you again, longer and softer this time, his lips only barely pressed again your own until you whine in frustration. Jake pulls back, and you aren’t sure you’ll forgive him this time for the self-satisfied, Cheshire grin he wears.

“Alright darlin’, I know when I’m pushing it,” he rolls his eyes and you squeak in delight as he reaches down and folds you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his hips automatically.

“Promise I’ll only go a little further, gotta get naked first though, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

[spiderfunkz]

hihi!! loved ur artist hcs with the arachkids!!

could i request an artist! gf with miles? they could be sketching in their own journals on a rainy day and maybe even share a kiss??? thank you! much love xx

✧.* lovers rock

— summary : while the others talk, we were listening to lovers rock, in her bedroom.

— pairings : miles morales x fem!reader

— word count : 0,3k

— warnings : fluff, established relationship, super cheesy teen romance stuff, miles being a rambling mess, reader calling miles a nerd, and like a kiss (on the cheek Oops). also not proofread.

a/n : hii thank u sm for the request lovely ^_^ sorry this took so long writers block kicked my ass around, but here it is now!! hope u like it <3

you could hear the faint sound of the rain followed with a bit of humming through your earphones. you've been spending the day sketching in your journal with your boyfriend, as the rain had cancel your plans of going out.

but there's no point in being sad about that, so when your boyfriend texts you if you wanna meet up of course you said yes.

"what're you working on?" miles peaks, "it's a surprise." you reply, scribbling on the page. your drawing a portrait of miles, he's smiling, teeth showing, with a little kiss mark on the cheek.

and he's drawing a portrait of you, his art style perfectly capturing your beauty. there are already many drawings of you in his journal, each one picturing a different memory with you, but there's just something about this one.

maybe it's because how your surroundings can effect feelings. miles loves going on dates with you to arcades or the movies, but he adores spending time with you like this, lazy rainy days where he just chats with you and sit there in comfortable silence.

"how about, if i show you mine, you'll show me yours?" he asks. you nodded, "alright, i'm also done with mine."

a few minutes pass by and you're putting the finishing touches on your sketch. "i'm done!" you smile, showing him your drawing.

miles reveals his book too, it was a similar sketch to yours, it was you smiling with a little kiss mark near your cheek. and if you squint you could make out a little 'i love you' with a heart next to it.

he gasps, "we drew the same thing? no way, i mean obviously you drew it better than me but everything you draw is basically amazing. like seriously though, this should be put in a museum, my face! well not my face but you drew my face really nicely! wait no- that sounds narcissistic but.." he rambles causing you to chuckle.

"does that say 'i love you' ?" you squint, pointing at the tiny writing. "oh you could see that?" he hides the book away from you, face turning red.

he seems embarrassed, so you reassured him not to be. "i love you too, nerd." you kiss him on the cheek, just like the sketch you made.

[crystallizsch]

hiii you seem super cool ^-^ your art is very pretty! also ahem listen. i like jamil too but. but what are your thoughts on his overblot form? am i the only one who thinks that it’s really ugly or…

anyways how are you? are you doing okay? i hope you’re having a good day :3

- <3

AAH ANON HI???? that is SO sweet thank you so so much i really appreciate it!! 😭💖💕 and im doing pretty well!! 🥺 it's my first week of summer break so i'm straight up chilling 😤✊

OKAY SO if you would have asked me this when i first saw it, i would have 100% agreed but listen. hear me out ---

i made like a quick sketch without whatever is going on with the head

HIS OVERBLOT OUTFIT IT'S A. IT'S A MERMAID/TRUMPET KINDA DRESS???? (an outfit where it's like form-fitting around the waist and upper legs then flows out the lower it goes) PLUS IT'S OFF-SHOULDER??? I KNOW IT'S JUST A PERSONAL PREFERENCE BUT I LOVE HOW THAT'S HIS OUTFIT??? IT'S JUST MY TYPE SLAY KING -

okay but seriously i get where you're coming from anon!! it's the,,, whole entire head part at least for me,,, like i GET the turban and everything bc it's based on jafar's outfit in the movie and HONESTLY??? i love the idea of his hair being snakes (they're just little guys, lil frens, reminds me of mike wazowski's gf with her hair snakes)

i think the issue is he looks so odd without his (iconic) side bang??? 😭😭😭 and the MAIN thing that i personally dislike is the ink goatee??? it just. i don't like it 😔 i think those parts are what make his overblot form look so off -

honestly everything COULD HAVE worked ;;; like the idea is There but the execution is Not It

also okay alright maybe something about overblots arent supposed to be pretty bc they're in a literal breakdown about to die (<- lying through my teeth bc i love riddle’s ob design and i have a bias for alice in wonderland type designs)