#Had this idea years ago -- sorry for the edge 😔

[illusorybread]

How to pick up Miorine.

Episode 12 spoilers (no blood)

[uhuhmaries]

What Once Was | H.S.

Fluff/angst. Sorry y’all the horny bomb has exploded and now I’m just sad 😔

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

The first time you met him, it wasn’t fate. It wasn’t stars aligning or time bending. It was a missed bus and a crooked little bookstore tucked away in a narrow alley in Florence.

You were lost—figuratively and literally. The street signs didn’t make sense, your feet hurt, and your phone battery had died somewhere between the Ponte Vecchio and the third scoop of stracciatella. You ducked into the bookstore out of instinct more than intention, the bell above the door a soft chime in the quiet air.

And there he was.

Sitting on the floor, back resting against a shelf marked “Poetry,” legs stretched out long and lazy in front of him. His sunglasses were pushed to the top of his head, curls a little messy, a thin notebook open in his lap. He looked up when you stepped in. Blinked once. Smiled.

That was all it took.

You recognized him, of course. Not in the screaming-fan, heart-palpitations way you might’ve five years ago. But the kind of recognition that slips into your bones. Something softer. Older. He was Harry Styles. And you were just… you.

But in that moment, in that quiet little bookstore in a city that wasn’t home for either of you, you weren’t those things. You were two strangers surrounded by books, and he asked you if you liked Neruda.

You told him you’d never read him.

He raised a brow. “Then I guess I’ve just found my mission for the day.”

The summer unraveled like silk. Days blurred into golden afternoons spent lying side by side in public parks, talking about everything and nothing. Nights spent in dimly lit cafes and under balconies that smelled of roses and cheap red wine. He took you on the back of a scooter through winding roads that made your stomach flip. He laughed when you clung to him too tightly, but didn’t let go.

You never called it love.

Maybe because calling it that would make it real. And real things break.

But he kissed you with the kind of tenderness that lived at the edge of something bigger. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip like he wanted to memorize it. He told you things that made your heart hurt, and listened when you told him things you hadn’t even told yourself.

He never mentioned the cameras. The fame. The tours or the plane tickets waiting on him.

And you never asked.

Because some things are too delicate to speak out loud.

You left at the end of August.

It wasn’t dramatic. There was no fight, no teary goodbye at a train station. You packed your suitcase in the quiet, the same way you’d unpacked it months earlier. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you fold your dresses, his fingers twitching like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

“I’ll miss you,” you said, brushing your knuckles against his cheek.

He didn’t say it back. He just kissed your wrist.

And then you were gone.

You thought maybe he’d call. Or text. Or post something cryptic on Instagram that only you would understand. But days passed, then weeks. And life picked up its pace like it always does. You threw yourself into work, into friends, into pretending like that summer hadn’t carved out a hollow space in your chest.

But nothing felt right. Everything was too loud, too fast, too cold. You scrolled through headlines sometimes, glimpses of him walking through airports or smiling on red carpets. You watched from the outside like everyone else.

He moved on.

You didn’t.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

Two years.

That’s how long it took before you saw him again.

It was London. A gallery opening you weren’t supposed to be at. A last-minute plus-one invite from a friend who had no idea what she was walking you into.

You didn’t expect him to be there. But there he was.

He stood near a marble sculpture, a glass of wine in hand, head tilted slightly as he listened to a woman in a green silk dress. He looked the same, but sharper. Polished. The messy curls had been tamed, the rings on his fingers a little flashier, the tattooed arm peeking out beneath his rolled sleeve a little more inked.

He looked up.

And saw you.

It was a second. Less than that. A heartbeat.

Your eyes met, and for a moment, time pressed pause.

He nodded. Just once.

You nodded back.

That was all.

No smile. No wave. No whispered “hey, it’s been a while.”

Just two strangers in a room full of strangers, pretending they hadn’t once made promises in a crumbling Italian apartment at 2 a.m.

He turned away first.

You watched him disappear into the crowd.

And that was it.

You walk home in the rain that night. No umbrella. No jacket. Just the weight of the past two years pressing into your shoulders.

It should be easier by now. You should’ve let go.

But your heart still aches like a bruise every time someone mentions his name. Every time a guitar strums a certain chord. Every time you smell cheap red wine.

You live in that summer still.

He doesn’t.

People say time heals. That you’ll meet someone else. That the right love won’t leave like that. That if it was meant to be, it would’ve been.

But what they don’t say is that some people aren’t meant to stay. They’re meant to change you. To leave you different than you were before. Better. Or maybe worse.

And some love stories don’t end with closure. Or clarity. Or even kindness.

Some love stories end in a nod across a gallery, where he looks at you like he’s never tasted your skin in Florence, like he never whispered your name against your neck or traced poems onto your spine with trembling fingers.

Some love stories end with silence.

You still go to bookstores sometimes.

Not because you think he’ll be there.

But because a part of you is still waiting to walk in and see him on the floor, smiling up at you like nothing ever hurt.

And maybe that part of you always will.

You move on, too. Sort of.

You date. You kiss people who taste nothing like him. You let someone love you. You almost love them back. But it never sticks.

Not because you’re waiting for him. But because you left too much of yourself in Italy.

Years pass.

The ache dulls, but it never leaves.

You learn to live with it the way you live with freckles or old songs—something faded and familiar.

And sometimes, when the sky is a particular kind of gold, and the air smells like summer, you close your eyes and let yourself remember.

How he laughed.

How you felt.

How it once was.

Not because you want it back.

But because it mattered.

And that’s enough.

Even if you’re just a forgotten chapter in his story.

Even if he was your whole book.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

[goodlucktai]

10 or 17 for Rise for the injury dialogue prompts! :D

dialogue prompts

10. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving you.”

@calliopechild you requested this so long ago 😔 im so sorry

x

You’re not sure what to make of the new guy at first—he looks young, almost a full head shorter than you, definitely still wet behind the ears—but after a few hours you’ve turned the corner. He’s sharp and picks up things quickly and never has to be told the same thing twice. On top of that, he’s got an easy-going smile you don’t see much of in a place like this, and nothing seems to ruffle his feathers. 

“That’s Susan, the menace of HR,” you say apologetically when Leon clears the final hurdle between himself and his newly minted trainee badge. “Thankfully you won’t see much of her until it’s time to argue for a raise.” 

“It means a lot to me that you think I’ll be here that long,” Leon replies, tongue-in-cheek. He flicks the polished sleeve of his badge, hanging on a lanyard around his neck. 

You think the photo they took for the personnel file wasn’t very good—the colors smear together, the edges a little out of focus. It’s person-shaped and vaguely smiling and that’s about all the details you can glean at a glance. You’ll have to remember to send an email about that. 

“Hey, it’s like with any other cushy government job,” you tell him, leading the way down the hall. “Once you get your foot in the door, it’s all downhill from there.”

He’s probably heard the company spiel already, so you won’t waste any time reciting the new hire PowerPoint presentation. He’s quick on his feet, he’ll learn. His eyes are sharp, and he asks intelligent questions, and he never once hurries the tour along even though there is something about him that reads as distinctly restless. Eager.

You think you know exactly what he’s looking forward to. You’d put a month’s salary on it. Classified information doesn’t stay that way for long internally, and the rumor of three new aliens held on site is easier not to dismiss outright after the invasion of New York City last year.

The Krang specimen died, seemingly out of spite, three weeks ago. They learned less from it than they would have liked. These new subjects were a windfall no one was expecting. They squeezed another grant out of their parent corporation and brought in additional staff. Bishop is no person’s friend, but when he sees a need in the department he stamps it out in a matter of days. 

“Okay,” you say, steering Leon toward the elevator, “time to see what you came here for.” 

He blinks, and it’s the first time you’ve managed to surprise him all day. Then he smiles. 

“Am I that obvious?”

The sublevel the live specimens are on requires security screening conducted by a pair of steely-eyed armed guards and one final ID scan at the door beyond them. There’s a bit of a hiccup with Leon’s badge not reading properly on the scanner, but you were there when it was printed, and you’ve worked at the EPF long enough that when you vouch for him, the guards let it slide. 

He really wouldn’t have made it this far if he didn’t belong here, after all. 

The overhead LED lights are stark and bright, leaving no corner in shadow. There is, of course, a lab—you nod hello to the other researchers, and they look amused to see you playing babysitter but greet the new guy amiably enough. 

Leon doesn’t seem to hear them, eyes locked on the glass tank front and center. You hang back and watch him walk forward, smiling a little bit at his enthusiasm. You remember being young and enthusiastic, new to the job and unable to believe what you were seeing even when it was right in front of you.

This specimen is the one that unnerves you the most. The big one in the next room is scary in the traditional sense—like a child’s idea of a monster, with spikes and sharp teeth and a deep, rumbling growl—but it is not as scary as the Krang had been. You still jump when it slams against the glass, to the amusement of your colleagues, but you don’t feel haunted by it every second you’re in its presence. And the little one in the room past that just hides inside its shell, the only indication of life beyond the sensors in the room being the occasional rocking back and forth of its yellow-patterned carapace. 

It’s this one, the one with deep purple markings on its limbs and unblinking eyes, that makes everyone in the room look over their shoulder, and triple-check the locking mechanisms on the tank, just in case. 

You say as much, and it only manages to sound halfway like a joke. 

Leon says, “Good thing there aren’t two of him, then.” 

You’re used to a complete lack of motion from the creature behind the glass, the kind of dangerous stillness that makes your animal hindbrain feel hunted, but now it jerks its head around so fast you jump backwards. It’s staring at Leon—no it’s looking at him. 

Everyone around you is talking in low, urgent voices. You haven’t had this kind of engagement from it since it got here two days ago, not counting the chunk it tore out of the former head researcher’s arm, when it told on itself that the sedatives they synthesized specifically to put it under for the purpose of collecting a few skin and blood samples did fuck-all. 

“Yeah,” Leon says. “That would be a disaster, huh?”

A second later, the creature is standing directly in front of the glass, and more than one person shouts in surprise and alarm behind you, but Leon doesn’t flinch. There’s three layers of inch-thick laminated glass between his face and the face of an alien still stained with old blood, ruddy red peeling off its snout and throat in flakes. For the first time since you met him, Leon isn’t smiling. 

“Can it hear through the glass?” someone asks behind you, the researchers absorbing everything they can from this strange interaction playing out in front of them. “Has it been listening to us this whole time?”

It’s baring its teeth, more restless and agitated now, and doing something with its hands. 

“Does anyone here know sign language?” Leon tilts his head to ask over his shoulder without breaking eye contact with the animal that put your direct supervisor in the ER. 

The half dozen of you in the room all respond in the negative. You open your mouth to explain that everything that happens on this sublevel is recorded, and the footage will be reviewed and analyzed by a team who will be able to translate, but Leon has already lifted his hands and begun signing himself. Clearly fluent in the language, even though you don’t remember reading that in his file. 

The exchange only lasts a few seconds and then Leon steps back. The creature is upset, shoving its face against the glass, scratching at it with nails already broken from scratching at it. Leon looks back at you ruefully, and says, “Nope, it’s all nonsense. Sorry, thought I was onto something there.”

You exhale a laugh, your head spinning. “Well, now we know,” one of your colleagues, Avery, says with good-humored disbelief. The whole team is buzzing around, eager to dissect the behavior they’ve just witnessed. 

“The others are that way, right?” Leon says, nodding towards the door to the side. You barely eke out a yes before he’s off, swiping himself through and disappearing into the adjoining lab. 

“Where did you find that kid?” Avery asks you, reluctantly impressed by the chaos Leon has left in his wake. 

“Don’t ask me, I picked him up from HR,” you say, lifting your hands. “Apparently there was an issue with his transfer from another facility, and a bunch of missing paperwork—this Shelldon guy in IT spent lunch hour saving the day.”

“Well, thanks, Shelldon,” she replies, “we might actually come up with something to satisfy Bishop if this lucky streak holds.”

To say Bishop was dissatisfied is the understatement of a lifetime. 

Months later, when internal affairs has finished its investigation and you’re off administrative leave, you’ll be allowed to see the footage. You’ll see the way the huge creature in the next room lowered itself to the floor on its knees so Leon didn’t have to crane his head back to look up at it, as if it saw something it recognized that managed to cut through the mindless animal fear. And the way the little creature in the third lab finally came out of its shell and scrambled to the glass wall so desperately it was more of a crawl than a run after just a few minutes of Leon speaking calmly in front of its tank. But it’s that first clip you watch over and over. 

The dangerous creature in the first tank with its purple markings and the bite force of a saltwater crocodile emphatically signing Get out of here, stupid. Don’t do whatever you’re about to do. It’s too dangerous.  

And Leon verifying that no one else in the room would understand before signing back, I don’t care. I’m not leaving you. 

But for now, you don’t have context for everything that happens in the tight five-minute window that ruins your career. The sublevel is locked down, network disabled, every form of communication in and out jammed. The overhead LEDs go dark, emergency lights glowing on reserve power. More than one voice cries out in frustration as they lose their work.

There are armed guards stationed two doors away but every lab on this floor is soundproof—every lab is, from a technical standpoint, a glorified bomb shelter—so even if you had realized right away that this was a scream-for-help situation, it wouldn’t have done you any good to try. 

Movement behind the glass catches your eye. The creature is baring its teeth at you, the facsimile of a smile. You’re reminded, abruptly, of an iconic scene in your sister’s favorite movie when a genetically engineered monster realized the electric fence keeping it enclosed was no longer an issue. 

The door to the next room slides open and Leon strolls through. He’s holding something in his hand. It looks like it might be a broom handle. Did he stop at the custodial closet?

You’re half-expecting some level of concern from him about the blackout, but if anything he looks even more relaxed now than he has all day. It takes you realizing the tension he’s been carrying in his shoulders is gone to realize it was there at all. He signs something at the creature in the tank. He signs the same thing two, three, four times. By the fourth, the creature is blinking wetly at him. 

“Hey, man, I wanted to say thanks for the tour,” he says light-heartedly. It’s a kind sentiment, if a little out of place. “It’s really hard getting around someplace you’ve never been before. Visualizing a destination when you don’t have the first clue what it looks like—that’s just asking to get lost or get caught. But hell, put on a badge and act like you’re supposed to be here, and someone will come along and take you right where you want to be!”

You’re not sure what the hell he’s saying. There’s something glinting on the floor of the other room. You tilt your head to look past him through the open door, and see what looks like a foot. You move to the side a little more, and now you can see one of your coworkers sprawled face-down in a blanket of broken glass, twinkling as it reflects the emergency lights and smeared with hints of red. The light is just right at this angle; you can make out a matching spatter of red on Leon’s cheek. 

You’re slow to understand what you’re seeing. Leon stands between all of you and the tank, where the creature is pressed as close to him as it can get on the other side of the wall. 

He laughs, and it isn’t a kind sound.

“All it took was my little nephew cooking up some fake new hire paperwork. And, you know, making sure the real new guy never showed up for his first day.” 

Avery is quicker on the uptake, and runs toward the exit. She doesn’t make it. Leon steps over her prone form, still smiling, smiling, smiling. He doesn’t have any weapons, beyond the blunt stick in his hand that he isn’t using, but he doesn’t seem to need them. He hits hard enough that one blow to the temple or the solar plexus folds even the researchers that tower over him. 

He leaves you for last. You don’t know why. Your mind is blank with panic. There should be alarms blaring, but instead there’s just overwhelming silence. It’s you and this kid who shouldn’t even be here. Who faked his way in. Who fooled you and everyone else.

“God, I bet you’re just dying to know,” he says with a moue of false sympathy. “What the heck, you did help me out today.” 

Leon reaches into the collar of his shirt, pulls a necklace with a large charm out from underneath it, and slips the whole thing off his head. As it comes off, your vision blurs and you have to blink to readjust your eyes. Once you have, the likable young man who spent the day shadowing you is gone. In its place is a creature exactly like the ones caged in this sublevel, holding a gleaming sword in its hand. 

Between the blood on its striped face, and the wicked grin it’s using as a thin excuse to bare its teeth, it could be the purple creature’s twin. This is not a good development for you. 

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, too afraid to do anything but stand absolutely still. 

“I hope you have a really fun time explaining this to your boss,” it says, boyish and charming. 

It slices its sword through the empty air, making you flinch and backpedal, tripping over the body of one of your coworkers and hitting the ground. There’s a shine of blue, painfully bright in the dim glow of the emergency lights, and when you push yourself upright and blink through the afterimages, you’re alone. 

You do not have a fun time explaining this to your boss. You’ve never seen Bishop as apoplectically angry as when he was informed that not only did every single specimen escape, but they were rescued right out from under your entire team. And you were the one who delivered the rescue to them. Forget your job, you’re lucky to have left that debrief with your life. 

Months later, when you’re allowed to watch the footage from that day, you study it with a fixation that borders upon obsession. You try to peel back the false layers of the Leon that he let you see, you try to find the moment—any moment—that gave him away. You’re consumed by it. 

“You were outwitted by a child,” Bishop had snarled. The condemnation makes you nauseous, but not for the reason you might have thought it would. 

You had noticed how young Leon had seemed. He was good at assimilating into the role he’d chosen, he adopted patterns of speech and body language that made sense in the environment he’d snuck into, but when he had finally shed that fake skin he sounded more like your teenage nephew than you were willing to admit for a long time. 

And that makes you think of the smallest creature, rocking back and forth in its shell, too frightened of you and your team to come out for any reason. The biggest creature, stirred into an aggressive frenzy when it realized it had been separated from the others, slamming repeatedly, tirelessly, against the walls of its cage as if it would never stop until it found them again. And the creature that scared you the most—the one that bit as soon as there was someone within biting distance, the one hyper-aware of every sight and smell and sound in that stark, bright room, twitching restlessly like even the near-inaudible whirr of the food dispenser was nails on a chalkboard—the way its face transformed into something human the second it was treated like one, the way it clustered close to the glass and urged its only hope of rescue to save himself instead. 

Mostly, you think of that last thing Leon had signed, the words he repeated again and again until the message finally seemed to get through. 

I love you. We’re going home. 

[psychesalcove]

when you're all alone, i'll reach for you (when you're feelin' low, i'll be there too)

₊˚⊹♡ jason grace x gn.reader

sypnosis: jason comforts the reader who is overwhelmed by school work due to finals cw: not proofread, college au, reader is a bit of an overachiever, crying, being overwhelmed bc of school work, shitty ass writing (sorry gang)

requested: yes, from amandamariee authors note: thank you so much for the request babes!! i hope this lives up to your expectations,, i loveee fluff and comfort fics so so much like it's actually scary 😔 ALSO i made the reader have a history major – just in case anyone was wondering :)

finals season was upon the students of new rome. cafes were filled to the brim with students, workbooks, and the sound of typing on laptops (that were specially made for demigods, of course).

you were one of the students who found themselves at the cafe more often than you would like to admit. earlier today you were at a popular cafe downtown with annabeth, but, around two hours into your study session, you wanted a change of scenery.

and that's how you found yourself back at the condo you and jason shared.

your wooden desk that you had gotten at ARC had every surface possible filled with studying items. old assignments, papers your professor handed out, your notes, and every color of highlighter imaginable.

your tea (which jason had made for you) was long forgotten on the edge of the desk, close to tipping over onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom. you had been in the same position on your chair for about an hour and a half, eyes focused on reading an essay you had wrote a couple months ago.

jason would have already had you take a break by now, but he was downtown. you and jason were supposed to meet with the seven for dinner tonight, but you decided to stay home and study more. jason had insisted on staying with you, but with much persistence on your end, he was out the door and on his way downtown.

and of course, when you're studying for the most important test of this year, your dyslexia decided to act up. you had been stuck on the same sentence for about 5 minutes now. the words kept getting jumbled in your mind, floating from place to place on the page. the monster attacks you could deal with; but not being able to read a simple sentence?

you sighed heavily through your nose, setting down your pen onto the desk. this essay should be easy to read; you were the one who wrote it after all. your eyes shifted from the essay to the rest of your desk. you had no idea how you were going to manage getting all of the information you needed for the test in your head.

you reached for your laptop that was under a folder, because you decided that it might be easier to do work digital instead of on paper. you quickly logged into your laptop, and went to google classroom.

your eyes were drawn to the notification icon, seeing that there was one. you clicked it, mouse hovering over the writing that appeared on the screen: a comment from your professor.

y/n, i've seen you do amazing work in my class this year. what happened with this? i know you have more potential than what you wrote. i'll have to give you a D for this one, but it shouldn't affect your grade to much considering you have an A. it'll bring it down to an A- or a B at the most. i'll hope you gain your skill back in further work.

oh.

you quickly changed the screen onto where your grades were shown. there it was. a B. you knew that it wasn't a bad grade or anything, especially remembering when percy showed his grades to you once, but it still didn't sit right with you.

this was your best class, the one you always understood and got at least an 80 or higher on. you've never gotten a D.

tears quickly filled up your eyes, causing you to bink rapidly in an attempt to keep them at bay. you looked at the desk, in hopes of feeling better by now staring at the large B on your screen, but it only made it worse. all the papers and assignments quickly overwhelmed you, seeing how much you still had to do.

how will you even pass this test if you can't write a simple article about an artifact?

with that thought in your head, tears quickly started dripping down your face. a rational part of you told you that a small assignment like that didn't show your worth of the class, but the emotional part of you quickly overtook that thought.

as you sat there, posture rigid and tears freely falling down your face, you were to focused on your own being to register the sound of a door opening and footsteps going down the hall twords the bedroom you were in. you only got out of your head when you felt cold hands rubbing up and down your upper back.

"hey, love, what's wrong?" a voice, that you quickly recognized as jason's, said. you didn't know how to verbally respond, so you coughed hard and brought a hand up to your face to try to remove the tear stains from your face.

jasons hands moved from your back to go over your shoulders, hugging you from behind. "how about we get you into a bed first, hm?" he questioned gently, leaning awkwardly so his face was closer to your ear. after registering what he said, you nodded slightly as you made a move to stand up.

jason aided in getting you up, and then put a hand over your shoulder when the two of you started the short walk to the bed. he let you sit first, and then quickly followed in suit. he sat in front of you, letting you get a clear image of his blonde hair and concerned face.

he grabbed your hands and held onto them lightly, giving you the option to leave his grasp at any point. "love, try to copy my breathing, okay?" he instructed, making eye contact with you. he slowly took a deep breath in through his mouth, waiting for you to follow. once he saw the movement , he slowly exhaled through his nose, again, waiting for to follow his breathing pattern.

this continued until jason deemed you collected enough to talk about whatever made you upset. "want to tell me what got you so worked up, my love?" he asked again, softly smiling at you when you two made eye contact.

you quickly explained your situation in a shaken voice, still getting own crying. his eyebrows knitted in concern as he listen to you, and his thumb started slowly rubbing circles on your knuckles when he noticed your teary eyes.

once you finished speaking, he took you into his arms and held you gently. "how about you take a break. i'll make you tea, and you can eat if you want. then, we'll come back, and i'll help you with whatever you need help with. sound good?" he explained, already making a move to stand up with you.

-

the two of you quickly found yourself in the kitchen. jason had dimed the lights to emit a soft orange glow from above, and turned on the stove light as he filled the kettle up with water.

"you know, you're amazing at what you do, love." jason said, turning to you as he turned off the sink water after the kettle was filled up. "and, i know that you also know that, somewhere in there," he continued, brining up a finger and pointing at his head. you chucked softly, making jason get a small grin on his face from making you laugh, even if it was only little.

he walked over to the stove and placed the kettle on the stove, turning on the stove top, then moving over to where you sat on the counter. he gently wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you into a gentle embrace. "yknow you could have asked for my help earlier, i would have stayed with you, my love." he said as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"i know, but i wanted you to go out. i didn't want to keep up cooped up in here with me just because i didn't want to have dinner with them." you said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, bringing you closer to him.

"i never feel 'cooped up' with you, love. and i wouldn't have minded not going, although leo and piper seemd very pressed about you not being there tonight. said they wanted to meet up with you tomorrow to 'add to their gossip'." he said, chuckling lightly at the thought of leo and piper.

you smiled softly as you thought about your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. just then, your stomach growled, notifying both you and jason that you were starving.

"how about we make you some toast? then we can go back and start on some flashcards for you, sound good?" jason asked, pulling away from the embrace and walking over to the pantry, signaling with his hands for you to follow.

[mabelstone]

Try Me

trey parker x reader

based on the song/lyrics of try me - the weeknd

CW - cheating (with trey), fwb, minor 18+

i want to preface this with I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING

i was gonna make the boyfriend matt but i just couldn't bring myself to... i am a matt girl through and through 😔

got this idea while driving... enjoy, trey nation <3

Your phone buzzed loudly on your kitchen table where you and your boyfriend were preparing dinner. You’d be lying if you said your relationship wasn’t getting a little boring. You’d been on and off dating for four years, and struggling to keep the relationship strong... and exciting. Tonight, he had suggested you prepare dinner together over a bottle of wine like you used to in the beginning of your relationship. There just didn’t seem to be much of a spark anymore. He was a treat to the eye and the kindest, most loving man you’d ever been with, yet there was nothing special about what you shared. Truthfully, the sex was painfully average. He was good at it, sure, but you loved to try new things. He wasn’t one to spice things up and your known-to-be hungry libido was beginning to starve.

That’s why when you saw the alias name ‘Belle,’ flash across your phone screen. Heart pounding, you made up the excuse, “oh, sorry, honey. One of the girls from work is having couple troubles and I told her to reach out. Gotta take this.” He smiled in understanding, giving you a nod. He really was a wonderful guy. You lovingly squeezed his arm and walked to your bedroom, quickly pressing the phone to your ear, feigning loud enough for your boyfriend to hear, “Belle! How are you?”

“Oh, he’s around, is he?” You heard the dark voice on the other line ring out as you shut the door behind you, sitting on the edge of your bed with excitement accelerating through your veins.

“Yeah,” you whispered meekly into the phone, eyes trained on the door nervously. “Gotta make it quick.”

“Do you miss me, baby?” He cooed down the line, his voice warm and raspy, the way it was every time he’d pound into you from behind, roughly pulling your head back by your hair, forcing you both to relish in the sight of what you did to each other.  

“Mhm,” you bit down on your lip hard, reminiscing on the most recent night you’d spent together a few months ago. Images flashed through your head like a film strip; the way he’d touch you in ways your partner never had. The way his grip around your throat made you struggle to say his name every time he commanded you to. The way you knew it was so wrong, yet you couldn’t stop yourself from going back time after time.

“Leave him,” Trey would always try and convince you, but every time you’d tell him you couldn’t.

“I do love him,” you’d explain, trying to selfishly push down the guilt for the sake of scattered nights of pleasure. “You’re the best I’ve ever had. I’m not ready to give it up just yet,” you’d tell him, yet truthfully, you were just trying to make yourself feel better for being a pathetic girlfriend and a kind of terrible person.

"So when are we doing this again?" He cut to the chase fast, well aware of the time constraint the two of you were confined to after your many rendezvous over the years.

You hummed in thought, letting Trey know not to speak as you were going to check the calendar. You headed to the kitchen where your boyfriend gave you a sweet smile from the stove. You reciprocated, a pang of guilt hitting you. You swallowed it down though, speaking sweetly into the phone, "umm... you can stay here on the 14th... can you wait that long? I know the situation is hard, but I know you can tough it out, Belle. I'll make it worth your while."

You walked into the living room, clearing your throat to signal he could speak now. He'd learnt all your cues by heart now, knowing what a cough or hum meant depending on the pitch.

"See you then, baby girl," he confirmed, your cheeks heating at the nickname, even though you knew it was only used to get what he wanted. Well, what you both wanted really.

You hung up with a sigh, craving his touch so badly, it was crippling.

"I'm not feeling too good, honey," you walked into the kitchen, putting on a bit of an act for your boyfriend. You were partially telling the truth; you did feel really nauseous every time you did this to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, reaching your head up to place a kiss to his shoulder. "I'm gonna go have a bath, okay? I'll be quick."

"Okay, sweetheart," he frowned sympathetically, turning around to place a soft kiss to your lips. "Take your time. I'll have dinner ready for you when you get out."

You smiled weakly at his gesture, feeling incredibly bad for what you were about to do. Not bad enough, clearly, as you walked into your ensuite and shut the door behind you. The guilt quickly dissipated as you ran the bath, flicking a quick text to Trey that read,

thinkin about you x

He replied almost instantly, the message sending a jolt of electricity straight to your heat.

You do indescribable things to me baby

god me too, just hearing your voice

You responded just as quickly, his next response eliciting that addictive excitement that kept pulling you back in for more. You were greedy for him, and regret didn't exist in your vocabulary when it came to Trey. He was the most fulfilling aspect of your life... which is quite sad when put that way.

Show me.

Without a second thought, you stripped down to nothing, too turned on by his demands to even consider the consequences you'd face if your boyfriend walked in. You leant against the edge of the sink and opened your camera, your hand finding it's way up to one of your breasts. You squeezed it roughly for the photo, only your bitten lip and below visible in the image. You sent it immediately, climbing into the bath as you awaited his response. You hadn't spoken in a month or two, let alone slept together. You were pent up for him, so dissatisfied in your relationship. Trey made you want to leave your boyfriend for him, but you knew that you were nothing more than a friends with benefits. Trey just wanted you to leave him so he wouldn't feel so guilty.

Fuck I need more. Bend over.

You throbbed at his message, immediately obliging. You set up the camera on the bath ledge, hitting record on your phone. You slowly stood up, soapy suds dripping off your body as you followed his instructions, bending over in front of the camera and looking over your shoulder.

You were depraved, you could admit it. You liked a man that could take control, and unfortunately, that man was not the one in your kitchen, but the one getting off to you behind a little screen.

You stopped the video and cropped the ending before sending it through, your heart pounding lustrously as you waited.

I cant fucking wait for the 14th

He attached an image that caused your mouth to water, and a kaleidoscope of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. God, you had missed his cock. But mostly, you had missed him. The realisation that you were catching feelings hit you, and you had to stop that immediately.

you know where to find me x

You then completed the routine of sending him a '.' to let him know not to message. You then proceeded to delete the messages, and take care of yourself privately.

note: i think i may make a part 2, let me know if u want that

[laskyy]

Hello angel! haven't requested in a hot minute! I don't want to give you too much work! 😋

So take your time with this!

Let's see! Request fro my boy Binnie (changbin)!

So,this is pretty simple! As yk many idols aren't aloud to date or do so publicly at least (even tho JYP entertainment let's their idols date after being active for 3 years, let's just pretend) so, changbin keeps his relationship w reader a secret, and reader understands and doesn't mind but binnie feels bad so, reader comforts him about it after he apologised for not being able to properly go out with them 😔

Hiii!! Thank you so so much for requesting! I always love your ideas!! Also I am so sorry for taking such a long time with this one but college is kicking my ass lmao so to make up for it I am going to post a fluffy scenario with Hunter soon!! Also hope you enjoy this, it's probably not my best work, but I hope you like it!! Love you and happy reading <3

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Just like this

Genre: fluff, idol!Changbin, GN!reader

Contains: affection, Changbin feeling sorry and sad and being a cutie (lmk if I missed something!)

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You and Changbin met in a convenience store two years ago because he tripped on air and fell on top of you, how romantic!

And now you had been dating for a year and a half and you couldn't be happier with your man.

Lately you felt like he was being somewhat distant, and at first you thought it might just be from work but this mood of his had been going on for two weeks so you thought it was better to confront him.

"I'm home" Changbin said sounding quite exhausted as he took his shoes off and put his bag on the floor.

"Hi bab- where are you headed to?" You asked as he speed walked past you into the bedroom.

"This can't continue.." you said to yourself as you made your way to the bedroom and knocked on the door softly.

"Binnie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure?" He answered sounding unsure of himself.

You entered and sat on the edge of the bed he was laying on.

"Let me get straight to the point, why are you being so distant?" You asked while looking at him.

"It's work"

"Binnie, if it was just work I know you would've told me earlier, so one of us must have done something wrong!"

"Alright! It's just that.. I see so many happy couples on the street and I feel bad because you can't have that! You're with me in secret, so I thought maybe if I distanced myself from you, you would be mad and break up with me and find someone better and-"

"Woah there, you think I'm unhappy dating you in secret?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Changbin, I love you more than words can say! I would never leave you for something like that! I don't care that we can't go out like normal couples, I love what we have and our little dates!"

"But you can't always see me?" He said getting teary eyed.

You hugged him close and stroked his cheek.

"Oh Binnie, that's what makes spending time with you so special! I appreciate every moment! And I actually like being with you in secret a lot!"

"You do?" He asked lifting his head from your chest to look at you.

"Of course! It's kind of thrilling and I love indoor dates! Like the one we're about to have now!"

"I didn't plan anything?"

"Well neither did I, but I wanna cuddle up to you and watch a random show, can we do that?"

"Of course we can baby!" He said kissing your cheek softly and hugging you tight as you put a show on for you to watch.

"I love you so much Binnie, don't ever doubt that!"

"I love you too bub" he said as he kissed you softly

[steeklover]

You guys sleep on their friendship too much 😔

Time-laspe (I tried to download the video and attach it to this post but I think it was too big and my computer is tired because it won't download. That is the link, you can watch it if you'd like too, I know I like to watch art time-laspes. It is around fifteen minutes though, I didn't know how to make it any faster so there's your warning)

(Okay so I'm just now realizing that the part of the video where I used actually colors got cut off 😐And I can't even fix it because I've already deleted the clip off my computer and emptied my recycle bin. I'm so upset now, I'm sorry 😭😭I'm not a tech savy person at all)

You don't have to read this if you don't want to, it's more of an artist's note to myself. If you want to know more of my thought process while doing this then you can read it though.

First, I just want to give credit to the base I used!

Second, I used Krita to draw and Canva to put the video together. I've never really used another drawing app/software thing before (I've used Procreate a few times on my sister's IPad but it's not like I'm going to draw anything South Park on there) so I don't really have anything to compare it too. It's free though so... how much better can you get. The only thing I don't like about it so far is that the fill tool kind of sucks but it's not too bad, you just have to go over the edges to get a solid color (at least from my experience). And I've been using Canva for a while now, I've put together a few videos before but not in a while so I was a little rusty. The only thing I don't like about that is that I have to pay for an upgrade if I want to download a long video.

I started trying to draw seriously in April and now it's July so it's been like two months (?). I haven't posted anything since May I think but I've still been drawing a lot, I just haven't finished anything worth posting up until today.

I started out drawing this thinking it was going to be bad. Then about halfway through I thought it might actually turn out alright. Then I finished it and I kind of hate it. I think it would be much better if I practiced shading and textures but I'm too lazy for that, at least for now.

I hardly know anything about art, whether it be digital or traditional. I don't know anatomy, color theory, perspective, none of it. You can see on the time-lapse that I basically traced the base I used, did the faces and clothes and then colored it and that took me ALL DAY! Granted I had breaks like when I made my lunch and ran over to my grandma's house but other than that, I've been working on this piece (along with Stan but I did most of Stan yesterday, I just colored him this morning).

I have mad respect for every single artist out there because this is so hard... but for some reason I want to keep doing it. I know it's going to be super satisfying to look back on my art work from two years ago and see how much I've improved (hopefully I've improved, please tell me I'll improved)

As you can probably tell, I didn't get everything in the time-laspe. Recording the process was so hard, I tried to do it with Stan yesterday but I barely knew what I was doing and I kept getting called by my mom to do stuff so I had to keep pausing and un-pausing so I gave up and tried again today. I think my computer is worn out by working all day because not only have I been drawing on it all day but I have also been editing the video all day. I really like when artists post time-laspes though because it gives me an idea of their process and it's really nice to watch.

But anyway, I ended up giving Jason eyeliner because one) he's metro, two) I headcanon him wearing eyeliner (same thing with Tweek) and three) he needed a little something MORE to him, if that makes sense. I orginally wasn't going to give him eyeliner because I was afraid he would look too much like Tweek but once the picture was done, I decided they wouldn't look too similar. I also gave Tweek and Jason both freckles because for Jason, it's canon and for Tweek, it's my headcanon for him. You probably can't tell that Tweek has freckles because I made them really faint (on purpose) and I like to think he'd only have a few on his cheeks and nose. I gave Jason a lot though because I'm pretty sure that's how it is in the show. Lastly I forgot to color Jason's shirt in so that's everything that's not on the video.

I think the hardest thing for me was the eyes and the clothes. I have a love-hate relationship drawing eyes. I love looking at how different people draw their eyes but when it comes to drawing my own eyes... yikes 😬Also I think it's the facial proportions that might make this seem off, I think I have a bad habit of making the eyes too big but that's what I've been doing ever since I was a little kid so now if I make the eyes small, it just looks off. And again, I didn't do anything shading so it probably makes the picture look flat. Plus I have no idea what I'm doing.

I also usually have a hard time drawing hair but today I had a pretty easy time doing it. I was really surprised. Also another headcanon of mine for Tweek is that he has platinum blonde hair. I love platinum blonde hair and just blonde hair in general and his hair is SO YELLOW, I feel like if he was older than he'd dye it. Also they are both teens in this picture.

Tweek looks really pasty here, I tried to give him pale skin but I didn't mean for it to be THAT pale.

I think that's all I have to say. If you read this and have any tips for me, I'd love to hear them. I'd love to redraw this in a few months or maybe in a year if I decide to keep drawing, I know there's defiently room for improvement.

Despite all the complaining I just did, I don't HATE this picture per say. I really like my art style, it's simple but cute (imo of course). I feel like if I learned more about shading and learn how to draw faces and clothes better than I'd do a lot better. I think Stan was a lot cuter but this is cute too.

Lastly, ignore the two random dots if you find them, I'm too tired to fix this.

Anyway, if you read all of this, I really appreciate you! Have a great day/night! ❤️❤️

[c-atm]

Night call

Connie watched the scene from her seat with a slightly intoxicated smirk. It was a movie-perfect house party. Young adults horny, happy, and inhibited—the sound of 'Anderson. Paak was blaring through the speakers as her peers danced so close that it felt like the height of summer instead of the dead of winter, Daniel and Patricia among them. They were lost in their own world.

'Get it, you two' She chuckled at the thought before hearing cheering from the far left where a gaming setup was being played. Her friends Jeff and Peedee jumping up over a team victory on smash, their opponents asking for a run back and ', double or nothing.' She shook her head, knowing they were going to steal the guy's money.

She sighed again before getting up and walking out to the balcony, gently turning down a few dance requests on her way. Once out there, she took a deep breath of the moonlit air, looking up to the star-filled sky. She lited her phone camera up and took a shot before sending it to its designation. Walking to the edge, she leaned on the railing; she waited for a response.

-Ding!-

Connie smirked as she viewed the message she got, a picture of a moon over a city skyline. She turned her camera to the house and shot it before sending it with the message '🏠 🎉 '

She sighed again as she waited for a response.

-Ding!-

She turned to her phone, receiving a video of a not so expensive but definitely more than a decent hotel room. A second message came up after it. '🍻 at 🎉?'

She sent a picture of her with the red cup, looking mischievous.

-Ding- scandalous!😄...You ok, having fun?

I'm fine, and the 🎉 is fun, got some dancing in with Patricia...but

Connie smirked before sending.

-Ding- but what?

I miss you and felt a bit lonely.

She looked at the message, and while it was somewhat true, she didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

I missed you and wanted to check up on my Biscuit 💋 💘. I didn't wake you up, Did I?

'-Ding-' Naw..not really. Was preparing to sleep in a few; long day of being a vagabond, hehe.

Oh, I'm sorry.😞 I should let you sleep then.

She waited for a response for a message for a few moments before sighing. 'Maybe he fe-.'

'-Ding-' Sorry, phone was about to die. You're okay, Berry, actually was going to pop you a text... Feeling a bit lonely. Hehe!

She chuckled at their synchronization. I am too.

'-Ding-'_Even at a wild 🎓 🎉?

Isn't that wild, and it's because of the party. Everyone coupling/trioing/grouping up in some way or fashion. It made me miss my other...Made me miss you...😉 more than I usually do.

'-ding-'_You should see how pink my cheeks are now, charming Knight._

It's a privilege to do so, my life. Not that you can talk. Last time we were in person, I was a blushing mess, Cassobiscuit.

'-Ding-' of all the portals and all the rooms in the world, she had to warp into mine.

She had to laugh at the private joke between the two of them. The last time they were together, two weeks ago, they spent the day watching old movies on his hotel bed, cuddled up—one of those movies, Casablanca.

It was lovely, having her head on his best and thighs around this leg while he rubbed her back with his palm.

If times like that were an indication of their future, she was all up for it. You dork.

'-Ding-' Here's looking at you, Con.

Wish you were; I do look lovely tonight. 😌Caught my fair share of eyes, if I am to be honest.

-Ding- To be expected. You always had mines, my heart too.

Schmaltzy boyfriend.💋

Connie's cheeks grew hotter at the two texts. Been together for two years, and she still gets those butterflies in her stomach.

-'Ding'- Mind taking a picture. I'm feeling a bit envious 😔

' he's so honest.' She mused, shaking her head. Just as she was about to take a picture, she heard a rustle from below. Looking over the balcony, she saw a familiar pink and smiled mischievously as she sent her message.

She waited for a few before the text ding was heard with a sigh, she closed the phone.

_

Steven sat on his bed, waiting ten minutes for the picture from Connie. "Maybe her phone died." He sighed, laying back, feeling his eye's lids dropped, the urge to sleep getting stronger.

He felt a shift in his bed as if someone was leaning by him. Opening his eyes and looking left, he felt his cheeks burn.

"So." Connie grinned, kissing him before standing up straight and backing away, standing in the path of the city lights that shined through the balcony window, putting her dragon braid, black vest, and a side buttoned blue turtleneck dress on display-posing gently with her hip on her left hip.

"I can see why you stole glances," Steven admitted as he sat up red-cheeked. Wiping his eye with a yawn" didn't think you'd come to see me. Wonder if this is just a dream based on me missing you."

"Not a dream, Steven," Connie assured as she sat beside him, interlacing her hands with his. " I missed you too. So I came to see you." She kissed his cheek, "Share the night with you."

Steven turned to her before gingerly holding her chin and turning her towards him. " will you be sharing tomorrow morning too?"

"And afternoon as well." She smiled before feeling his lips on her in a tender lip lock before settling in a cuddling lay. It was too late to talk, and all other love drench lines were not needed as the two drifted to sleep in each other's arms.

Their Longing sated for the time being.