#🔗 who i write for

[sulfurz]

*ೃ༄ WHO I WRITE FOR

edge | adam copeland (extra kisses w adam requests)

christian cage | jay reso

randy orton

roman reigns | leati anoa'i

rhea ripley | demi bennett

alexa bliss | alexa cabrera

finn balor | fergal devitt

sheamus | stephen farrelly

becky lynch

lita

dominik mysterio

seth rollins

jey uso

liv morgan

* note : superstars may be added and removed. i am currently writing about who i know most about, but i may consider other superstars! if you wish to request a particular superstar that isn’t on this list, send me an ask and i will let you know if i am currently open to writing for them!

[hibaalturk]

Hello I’m Heba

Please don’t skip I need your help

This is my first son,Ziad

who is suffering from severe skin ulcers due to contaminated water and dust. We urgently need help to buy cleaning supplies and a new tent to protect him and improve our situation.Any support you can offer would make a world of difference to us 😔😭

Humanitarian Appeal‼️

I am writing to share what my son Ziad is going through. I recently had medical tests done for him, and the doctors informed me that he is suffering from malnutrition.

Given the current circumstances in Gaza, it has become difficult to provide him with the healthy food he needs. Therefore, I need your support in helping me provide Ziad with the food and care he requires.

If you can contribute any amount, it will help improve his situation. Every donation, no matter how small, can make a big difference.

This is my child before he started suffering from malnutrition.

This is my child after he started suffering from malnutrition.💔😭

My campaign is verified by ( @butterflyeffect.project ) and I’m now on line 1090

Please donate to me 😭 this is my link 👇🏻🔗

[suguru-getos]

Could you write a continuation of yandere satosugu where the reader lived and they try everything to help her get better and care for her?

| making up for mistakes | yandere satosugu x reader |

-> continuation of the first part: link 🔗

you had survived the almost suicide attempt you so carefully & yet so carelessly attempted. you were sure you weren’t getting up after this. damn it you made sure to hit your head hard, you could see blanks, you could see stars in your eyes until it all faded to a peaceful nothing-ness.

now, you’re awake again. nothing hurts. you know they must’ve told their friend shoko to aid in your injuries. you feel like you’ve woken up from a long slumber. unwanted as it may be… it does make you feel eerily refreshed. you stretch your limbs from the bed, they’re going to kill you for this. kill you for hampering with their property. oh well — at this point you’re fine with it. what’s it going to do? hurt you. pain is all there is they could ever offer anyways. maybe you can scream out and wish it gets over. that’s all you set your mind to.

you look to the side, the curtains are open and there is a little drizzle of snow. it brings a smile to your face. what if you hadn’t been kidnapped? it would’ve been so fun to hop into one of the lovely cafes you like & order some hot cocoa. put both your hands and wrap them around the ceramic of the hot cup and exhale in utter relaxation of the aroma the sweet cafe has to offer. oh… happy days.

its nauseating what your life is now, wrapping a blanket around yourself and checking down below. you are wearing clothes, decent clothes… not the sultry, slutty ones that satoru forces you to wear. you feel like you could throw up when the reminder occurs again. beaten up like you were nothing but an animal, throwing up in pain and anxiety--

"there we go! princess! awake! oh my god!" satoru comes in and hugs you tightly, his bulky arms wrapping against you, he doesn't let your mind have the time to panic. besides, satoru was... not the one who inflicted you that pain. even though he did nothing about it, in a moment of pure misery, your mind would latch on to him for comfort. "baby- you scared daddy, please don't do that ever again. fuck! i thought i lost you." you could hear the heartbeats on your snow haired man, they were ragged and reminded of the same panic you once bore.

"sorry." your eyes lack all emotions, just a soft murmur escaping you. the haunting realization that you were alive was eating you up. even so, it was your soul that had died. it's the dejected way you answered that makes satoru panic even more. immediately at your knees, leaning against your thighs and mumbling soft apologies, tears wetting your skin. "please baby, I'm so sorry, i should never have let that happen... you did a mistake that's all! you- you- pissed us off." he shakes his head, hugging you tightly.

your hands robotically landed across his hair, caressing. "it's okay, i did wrong, i understand."

your responses were making him nauseous, he hated seeing you in pain, but suguru always says its something that's needed. why is it needed? you're not an animal, are you? the ways with which satoru and suguru try to 'discipline' their toy they are delusional enough to call their lover is insane.

"i got breakfast, little one." now, your heart sinks. you hear the voice of the man who did this to you, mothering, now that his rage is faded into pure, eviscerating guilt. "you have no idea the joy it gives me seeing you awake." suguru hums, and you latch onto satoru, hugging him tightly. satoru's heart skips a beat. this was not the first time you had reached out to him, yet, you did it by your own. it gives him a sick sense of protectiveness. "he wouldn't do anything to ya baby, suguru loves you too." he reminds, looking at a devastated suguru.

"please don't hurt yourself again, angel" suguru hums, leaning in and kissing your forehead. it makes you sick to your stomach, how they treat you right now. you know that whatever you did yielded no results. and they are ever so careful about the same. you're pretty sure you'd have either of them by your side at all times.

"let's go and eat, suguru's made your favorite!" satoru chirps, happily holding you princess-style and going to the dining area. your eyes wandered to the other room on the way, the same room where this all happened, it's making you panic internally. the grotesque reminder of how they treated you. you're about to throw up again.

as soon as satoru puts you down, you run to throw up in disgust, nothing comes out except a few drops of water. your stomach is empty as is. a large, looming hand caresses your back. "I'm sorry, angel. please relax." suguru-- it's suguru...

"i'm sorry." you answered, "i am so sorry." you nodded to get back to the dining area, you should know better than to be with satoru. its not like suguru wouldn't do anything he wants anyways... you'd just like to have some comfort over it.

luckily for you, the breakfast went fine, you were eating quietly, while satoru just observed you. how uncomfortable you looked, the subtle shift in your demeanor. every tiny thing. suguru is essentially doing the same, gazing at your way and observing you. "you look beautiful." suguru comments, and you force a smile from the deepest pits of your psyche. "thank you, suguru."

you know he's ticked off, you need to call them 'daddy' and you're here, addressing them by their first names. sigh... they just have to help you heal, there isn't anything they can do about it really. they pushed you this far, and they should make up for it.

however, as days turn into weeks, satoru and suguru are forced to face the haunting realization that your mental and physical health is worsening. you barely eat, barely talk... you just, stare into the nothingness of empty spaces. satoru has avoided missions to take care of you. he is by your side, sleeps next to you, kisses your forehead, helps you take a shower. while earlier, you tried to at least pretend and work with it. answer however you could, talk to them, fake your smiles, now its nothing. you barely talk.

this time, satoru has a mission to take care of, but suguru is the one who's spending time with you. gently placing you on the bathtub, caressing your forearm, massaging it, decorating it with petals. "there we go little girl, there we go. feels nice?" he coos, and when you don't respond, sighs weakly. he wishes he could at least hear something out of you. when he sees you immersed in auto-pilot, he hums by himself; "yes, yes it is." he has to talk to himself in hopes that its you talking to him. "you know, me and satoru... we were thinking a trip to Italy sounds nice, or maybe Paris.." you used to love travelling, he hopes that would utter out a response from you. NOTHING comes out of you however. that makes suguru's heart break a little, "or maybe, anywhere that you like." he hums, sighing.

"angel?" he asks softly, leaning in and kissing your neck, maybe that would at least earn some leaning back. your resistance...

none.

"talk to me for fucks sake!" suguru snarls, glaring hard at you. you don't even flinch at that, contrary to your earlier flinching and tweaking. a sigh escapes him and then comes bubbling tears. he has truly fucked you up. the haunting realization finally hits him. he can't live with it anymore... it's choking the very fiber of his being.

the rest of the shower passes by in a haze, and suguru is quiet, tears dripping from his face. "what should i do so that you become normal again?" he asks again, pouting and begging with his eyes. no response...

he gets up after tucking you in bed. the dark circles in your eyes are an explicit example of how less you're sleeping. sometimes you wake up with irritating nightmares, screaming and crying. that's the only moment when satoru and suguru are welcomed by your affections.

suguru sighs, he needs to win you this time. or maybe... what's that called? stockholm syndrome?

or maybe, he needs to discuss with satoru about erasing your memory...

or maybe, he needs a curse that can shove your memory off and then they can date you.. from scratch...

either way, they're not leaving you. anytime soon.

[vampsired]

Pre-Exchange event drama

cast ᯓ✦: gojo, geto, shoko, nanami, haibara, & utahime ^when they’re in school together

summary: pre exchange event, some creep, endless meetings and exploding microwaves

warnings: mentions of harassment

© vampsired on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

🔗 divider link (credits) masterlist send requests ᡣ𐭩

reblogs are heavily appreciated ᡣ𐭩

ꗃ an: Ik this kinda lacks the tea about who likes who in this smau but trust you guys will be very well fed soon 😚. ^ like a 3-4 part mini series including smaus, fics, drabbles and different POVs

Btw I kinda wanna write a fic/drabble about the exchange event but I don’t know if that will be interesting. Tbh I’ll just skip the event in my smaus and maybe circle back to it with a fic

[ahmadalturk]

Update: October 11, 2024

🌟 Help Save My Beloved Kitty, Lisa 🌟

Meet **Lisa** 🐾, my sweet and spirited kitty who has brought endless love and joy into my life. 💖 With her playful purrs and gentle headbutts, she’s been my constant companion, brightening even the darkest days. Right now, however, my heart is heavy as she’s facing a serious health crisis. 😿

Before:

After:

We’re in urgent need of medical treatment to save her life, and I’m reaching out to you for help. Please consider donating to support Lisa’s care here: [PayPal Donation Link] 🙏💙

Watching her struggle is heartbreaking 💔, and I know there’s a chance we can turn this around together. Even the smallest contribution can create a ripple effect of hope and healing for her. Your support means everything right now. 🌈

If donating isn’t an option for you, I’d be so grateful if you could share this post 🐾. Spreading the word is just as powerful, and every share brings us closer to saving Lisa. Let’s unite our hearts to give her the fighting chance she deserves! 🐱💕

Your kindness and compassion can help restore Lisa’s spirit and bring her back to her playful, loving self. Thank you from the depths of my heart for considering helping us. Together, we can make a difference! 💖

#SaveLisa #CatLovers #DonateForLisa #HopeForLisa

---

A Personal Note from Me ❤️

Hi everyone,

I hope this message finds you well. I’m reaching out during a difficult time for my beloved cat, Lisa. My family and I are currently in Gaza, surrounded by turmoil, and Lisa has fallen gravely ill. She desperately needs medical attention to survive. I’ve shared her story on Blue Sky, and I’m hoping to raise awareness and funds for her urgent care.

🕊️

Here’s the link to my Blue Sky post: https://bsky.app/profile/ahmadturk.bsky.social/post/3l6abb5c7xf27

Please consider donating here to help Lisa: https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=ZQ2ACNKMG5KP2

Link GFM: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-aseel-and-family-leave-gaza-before-its-too-late

Do you know anyone who might be willing to help cats in need? The veterinary costs for Lisa’s treatment are significant, especially amidst the challenges we face here. While we’ve set up a GoFundMe page, it will take time to process, and we’re worried about securing funds quickly enough for her core

LINK GFM OR LINK PAYPAL 🔗🕊️🥹🙏🏻

To expedite this process, we’ve created a PayPal link to raise the funds more swiftly. Every contribution, no matter how small, can bring us closer to ensuring Lisa receives the treatment she urgently needs.

Thank you for your kindness and support. Your generosity truly means the world to both me and Lisa.

With heartfelt appreciation

Ahmad Al-Turk

__________________________

vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #101)

@acepumpkinpatrick (vetted).

@a-captions-blog (vetted).

@funds4gaza (vetted).

@risoria (vetted).

@ibtisams (vetted).

@tododeku-or-bust (vetted).

@aleciosun (vetted).

@gaza-evacuation-funds (vetted).

@nabulsi (vetted).

@el-shab-hussein (vetted).

@gazavetters (vetted).

Everyone who sees us or hears about us in Gaza, I hope that you will be with us, support us and help us. Share our story with us, write it down, and don't forget us in your prayers.🥹💙

Verified by: @90-ghost @sar-soor @vakarians-babe @sayruq @raelyn-dreams @plomegranate @palipunk @self-hating-zionist @star-and-space-ace @rainbowywitch @nabulsi @sayruq @palestinegenocide @shellofashadow @revcuse @northgazaupdates2 @palestine-info-uncensored @fairuzfakhira @longlivepalestina @self-hating-zionist @thenewgothicromance @risoria @palipunk @palestine @intersectionalpraxis @falling-from-a-star @sealuai @malcriaada @mangocheesecakes @farcillesbian @still--getting--there @apsswan @star-and-space-ace @rainbowywitch @oursapphirestars @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @boyvandal-blog @the-bastard-king @13ag21k

[risustravelogue]

Gifts of A Kind

Summary:

His love for you is the gift he's offering.

Featuring:

Zhongli, Alhaitham, Wriothesley

Tags:

Emotional hurt/comfort, love confessions, self-indulgent, reader has mental health issues and huge insecurity about her worthiness of being loved. Fem!Reader (referred to as a woman) who is having her birthday!

Note:

Me: Happy birthday to me! 🥳 Also me: *writes an emotional hurt/comfort piece with my favorites to cry* Haha. Also, I'm resting from the 1-week EBG grind, so have this for now. As always, enjoy~

🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗

It’s another busy day at Bubu Pharmacy.

Sorting the medicinal ingredients in one of the back rooms, you were humming to yourself when a familiar baritone voice came from behind you.

“Happy birthday.”

You turn around to find your crush, the handsome consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, walking towards you with a huge bouquet of silk flowers, dotted with the biggest glaze lilies you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Zhongli! You remembered!” you squeal.

When the man you fancy remembers your birthday, you say thanks to Celestia above. Especially when he’s actually Liyue’s beloved archon.

—This is fine. He can never be mine, but I can have my small joys, can’t I?

“I have a gift for you,” he says with a playful lilt to his voice as he hands over the bouquet to you.

“You mean this pretty thing?”

He smiles. “No. It’s a surprise. Close your eyes.”

You obey. Your heart thumps with anticipation. Maybe you’re finally getting that cute hairclip you’ve been eyeing for a while? Or maybe…

Your thoughts dissolve into thin air when you feel a soft warmth pressing against your lips and the scent of his cologne entering your sense of smell. Your eyes flutter open to find your vision filled with him.

But it’s not joy you feel inside your chest—it’s dread.

You struggle in protest, only for him to snake his left arm around you and press his lips harder against yours. He takes the bouquet away from your hands and sets it on the table behind you while nipping at your lower lip, as if asking for permission. You put your hands on his chest and push him away, breathless.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask.

Zhongli blinks, surprised.

“I thought you wanted it. Was I wrong?”

You shake your head and offer him a frown. “Why?”

“Is that not obvious? I love you.”

—What?

“What did you just say?”

He smiles as he repeats, “I love you.”

“... Heh,” you chuckle, and it turns into a full-blown laughter. “You’re lying. You wouldn’t.”

He only stares into your eyes with those golden pupils of his, his soft expression still like the mountains. You shake your head, dispersing the thoughts that maybe, just maybe—

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “No one would, especially not you.”

You feel his left hand clench at the small of your back as his expression hardens. “Why not?” he asks.

A bitter smile grows on your lips. “You know why. I’m—you know. I’ll only be a burden for you. For anyone.”

“I can bear it, and you know that.”

“But I’m—I’m defective and you know it!” you shout, pushing him away to no avail. His eyes widen, his heart taken aback at how much you must have hurt. You feel your chest clench as you mutter, “I am not the right person for you.”

Zhongli sighs and caresses your cheek, so gently as if you are the most fragile piece of porcelain he has ever held.

“Listen. No one is perfect. Not even me. And you… you awaken something I have never felt in the thousands of years of my life. And I want—”

His lips quirk to form a painful smile.

“I want to keep you by my side, for as long as I am allowed.”

You chuckle bitterly as you slap his hand away.

“Stop it. I don’t want this. I don’t—you’re mistaken. You don’t love me. You can’t.”

Tears roll down your cheek as your fingers clench on the fabric of his suit.

“Please… you can’t.”

A heavy silence hangs between you. His fingers find their way under your chin, tilting your face up towards him.

“Look at me,” he whispers. You shut your eyes in defiance, and you can feel tears dripping down your chin.

“You are the kindest woman I know, and have a strength beyond what even most gods can comprehend. And please believe me when I say I have never met anyone like you in my life,” he says, his voice gentle like you’ve never heard before. You open your eyes to find his gaze looking softly into yours.

“I love you. I will be yours if you want me to.”

He smiles, and you can feel your heart melt.

“Let me be your strength, your rock, your home. Will my word as the God of Contracts do?”

Expressive is one of the last attributes one would assign to the Scribe of the Akademiya, who also happens to be your longtime crush.

So you were surprised to find a saccharine sweet love letter in a pink envelope containing the words “I,” “love,” and “you”—in that order, next to each other—in his distinctly neat handwriting arriving at your doorstep on your birthday.

It’s not funny anymore, you think, deciding to confront him for playing with your feelings. You stroll to his office and bang at the door harshly, your face hot with anger.

“Come in,” the room’s owner says. You barge in, slamming the letter he sent you onto his desk.

“Out of all of your jokes, I rate this shit minus a hundred out of ten,” you say, voice shaking.

The silver-haired man tilts his head, seemingly confused. “What joke are you talking about?”

“This,” you smack the tip of your index finger onto the pink envelope, the force nearly ripping the paper in two. “This fucking letter, Alhaitham.”

“Oh, that,” he says with a smile. “I assure you, it’s not a joke.”

“Stop playing around!” you shout. “You said you love me, you liar.”

“Careful, I did say that, but my patience still has an end,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. He sighs. “Why would you say I’m lying?”

You scoff. “Because there’s no way, right? You’re perfect, men and women alike want your hand in romance, and you said you love me?”

You laugh derisively as you try to ignore the sharp pain penetrating your chest.

“You can’t love me. You can’t. I’m just a pathetic woman fumbling through life, unlike you. You’re fit as a fiddle while I have to take medication every single night, else my sanity would crumble like dust. I’m a burden to everyone I’ve ever cared about. So please, just stop.”

You feel your lips tremble as you grit your teeth in pain. Alhaitham frowns.

“Yes, I know about all that. I still love you, though.”

“Shut up, Haitham.” You lower your head and turn away, stifling back a sob. “I don’t deserve you. Nobody wants me, and that should include you.”

He slams his fists against his desk as he stands up, making you jump in surprise at his loss of composure. He saunters over around the desk and stops in front of you, his much taller figure looming over your head. His hands find their way to squeeze your shoulders.

“Who hurt you?” he demands, his palms trembling in quiet rage. “I swear I’ll hunt them down and make them suffer for making you think so lowly about yourself.”

“No one,” you lie. The pain in your chest pulses. “I’m just stating the truth.”

“It’s not the truth,” he says, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. “One as strong as you shouldn’t have such a low opinion of themselves.”

He lowers his head to meet you in a slow kiss. A tear rolls down your cheek as you relish the feel of his soft lips against yours.

“There,” he mumbles after pulling back. “Now do you believe me?”

“I don’t want to,” you finally admit, tears now streaming down your face. “I can’t.”

“Then—give me the chance to prove my love for you. Please,” he says while pulling you close. You shut your eyes, taking in his presence like a thirsty deer greedily drinking from the water’s surface. The words he whispers next have a certain promise woven into them.

“I am going to make you the happiest person in the universe.”

The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide looks a bit different than usual today. You are certain of that.

Whenever he catches sight of you, he’ll either hum tunes to himself, smile like an idiot, or walk towards you with a skip in his step that others barely miss.

Too bad you’re only his personal mechanic. Pointing his strange behavior out is way above your pay grade.

… Which is what you’ve been saying to yourself, but your feelings, your amour for him screams and rebels inside your chest, threatening to spill into the flirty sentence of “Wow, someone sure is happy to see me.” You bite on the insides of your cheeks to hold it back. After all, he knows that you’re literally sick in the head, and he wouldn’t want someone like you by his side.

He would never, ever fall in love with you.

But, if that is true… what is that beautiful bouquet of Rainbow Roses doing in his hands, then?

“Happy birthday, wonderful woman,” he greets, a grin plastered across his face. “Please accept this duke’s gratitude.”

“Gratitude?” you ask, folding your hand over your chest where your heart is—the organ working super hard to pump more blood to your already-pink cheeks.

“Yes. Gratitude for all the work you’ve done,” he says in a sing-song voice.

You sigh, trying to rein in the butterflies in your stomach. “Wriothesley, I’m not an idiot. I know what Rainbow Roses mean.”

His smile turns melancholic.

“So what do you say?”

You harden your expression, trying to keep your tone as flat as possible.

“I’m sorry… I can’t.”

An uncomfortable silence goes on for a few seconds.

“Sure you can. Why not? I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

“No, I can’t. Now please stop this nonsense, Boss.”

He takes a step closer, and you take a step back.

“Go away,” you say, turning away from him while stifling back a sob. “I can’t have you.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “You can. I want you to have me.”

You shake your head and shrug him off, tears starting to roll down your cheeks as the pain in your chest grows stronger.

“I can’t! I won’t burden you with… with me, of all things!”

“Stop saying that!”

Before you can react, he turns you around and pulls you into him, wrapping you with his strong arms like he’s protecting you from the cold, cruel world.

“Please stop saying that. You’re not a burden. You are never a burden.”

You try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. His shushes drown your grunts of struggle.

“Let me go. Please, I can’t want this—I can’t want you,” you finally plead, but he only pulls you closer, trapping your hands between your chest and his. You limp, pathetic sobs filling the air as you finally surrender.

“You want to know a secret?” he asks. He does not wait for your answer.

“I think you’re perfect. The way you pursue growth, the way you love. You are the most precious thing I have in my life,” he says, his voice half a whisper. “I am eternally thankful for you. Thank you for coming into my life. I’m at my best when I’m with you, and I don’t only mean because you can fix my gauntlets.”

His embrace tightens around you. You can feel his growing stubble rub against your temple.

“And if I don’t at least try being with you, I’m sure I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

He sighs as he presses his lips to the crown of your head, the warmth sending goosebumps across your skin.

“I want to be your home. I want… no, I need you by my side,” he continues.

Your grip on his vest tightens as you feel him bury his face into your hair.

“I love you. I love you so much, my heart hurts every moment I remember that you’re not mine,” he whispers. He pulls back, only to press his lips against yours in a slow, gentle kiss the next moment.

“Please… be mine. I will never let you down. That’s my vow to you, and I intend to keep it for the rest of my life.”

He looks into your eyes, his gaze as gentle as a beautiful snowflake. You tiptoe a bit to meet him in another kiss. He chuckles as he returns the favor with passion.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

© @risustravelogue 2024 • FEEDING THIS WORK TO GENERATIVE AIs IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. • do not repost. • reblogs are precious. • feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. 💖

[pinkchrissysposts]

SATS x LIST VOID METHOD

How are my shifters doing🤪,hard time entering void? Here is a method I found unintentionally.

🔗.Make a list on your note pad or on a page and write down your desires one by one also you can write some of your desires like having free food and entering void.

🔗.Now imagine a scene where you are cutting or whatever you like to do after your wish is done as a sign that wish had been done.

OK trust me in this,I was seeing alot of list method in twitternit exactly this so I wanted to experiment. I have always wanted to astral project but I had this fear that I might see a ghost.

So I made a list of thing I wanted to manifest last week and named it *THIS WEEK WISHLIST*,and everynight played this scene of me putting a ribbon emoji on my last wish. Everyday I did this for 2 days and I also affirmed and visualize and guess who astral projected🫡me.

I also made one of my online friend who is trying to enter void try this method and she also got results,so I'm quite confident about it.

[mrghostrat]

📌 My Gomens AUs

🔗 AO3 • #ART • DISCORD • KO-FI

Can I use your art / AU / fic? yes please!! you can do ANYTHING with my good omens works as long as there's no profit involved. this includes using art for icons, cosplaying, translating, podfics, inspired works, bookbinding, etc!

browse all my art in high res here. credit can go to "mrghostrat" or "ghostrat"

What brushes do you use? "Mr Natural" from Kyle's Adobe brushes and the default Clip Studio "design pencil" (full equipment list) (download all my brushes for $1)

How do you outline your fics? check out my writing process tag for all my advice about writing and gomens characterisation

Who the fuck are u you can call me rat or bilvy. i'm australian, ace, nonbinary; they/them (acquaintance) or he/him (familiar). fine with any gendered terms for jokes and shit (queen, dad, sis, etc)

Do you have Twitch/Patreon/Instagram/Twitter/etc? find me here!

I can't afford anything off Throne! Where's your P.O. box!!!! i'm sorry i've taken my address down because the post office won't let me pick up items unless they have my full legal name on them 🫠 if you'd like to send me something, please DM so i can send it privately x

Wow ur kind of annyoing haha ikr anyway here's all my tags so u can block or stalk to ur hearts content:

WIPs & AUs

#ratwips ideas and snippets

streamer AU: (synopsis) (ao3) (tag)

reversed BNF: (bnf) (reverse bnf)

author/editor: (synopsis) (tag)

rockstar crowley: (synopsis) (tag)

fandoms

#good omens

#ofmd (our flag means death)

#very good sir (jeeves & wooster)

#holmes (sherlock holmes adjacent)

#zelda (the legend of zelda games)

me and stuff

#nsft (nsfw themes)

#ghost scribbles (personal & junk posts)

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stuff i make

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crowley + aziraphale emotes

[cherie-doll]

𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰

This blog will be where I dump my stories & fics.

♱ about me: unemployed graduate with too much creativity, she/her, aro/ace, mexican-american, intj, goth/alt, visual-kei lover, metal and kpop enjoyer, rural/small town girl who deep down likes country music, likes to play video games, writer, adores reading & literature, into anything vampire related, art & history, ex-horse crazy girl, certified loser and an oxford comma enthusiast

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♱ fav book shelf: The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders by Vítězslav Nezval, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho, Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Emma by Jane Austen, East of Eden by John Steinbeck, The Judgment by Franz Kafka, Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

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[losergames]

Chop Shop is strictly 18+ for language, themes, and potential explicit content. 

🔗 - Game Intro | Bug Report | ko-fi

WE ARE LIVE!!! Chop Shop has officially relaunched on Itch.io! Available to play on desktop, tablet and mobile.

Prologue - EP .02 are ready to play - the same as the previous demo - with a new word count of 120k. The choicescript demo will be taken down at the end of the month.

Thank you so much to those who have helped me during this transition period of development! It has been crazy frustrating but I am so much more in love with the game than ever. And thank you to everyone who has been patiently waiting - hope you enjoy all the new bits and bobs!!

PLAY THE NEW DEMO NOW!

AN: CS has had some significant rejigging and rewriting. You can read the authors notes under the cut.

chop shop now has it's own UI! woohoo! (totally did not kill me) this, of course, will come with teething problems and accessibility issues. i am welcome to constructive feedback!

there are a lot of new dialog boxes to explore, especially the dashboard, which includes the PC's profile, inventory, contacts and a glossary page. (the stat definitions page from the old choicescript demo has been scrapped, too much text that wasn't needed.)

chapters are now called episodes! not a huge change but i prefer the vibe yknow.

there have been some extensive rewrites - especially in ep .01, the bar scene got a lot more fleshing out - so i expect typos and grammar errors have slipped through. this doesn't bother me too much but i appreciate any one who spots them to send them in!

there is now an 'end game' scenario in ep. 01. i won't be providing a walkthrough as i think it's relatively obvious given the scenario but it does give you an achievement!

i've kept achievements like the old choicescript demo but it no longer rewards points. maybe i will think of something to reward the player with later down the line?? who knows

i don't want to explain ALL the new details as i really encourage people to go find all the new flavour text and other things etc!!

next -- if you have not noticed, i have added a bug report to the links list. all issues, bugs, and errors found in the public demo can now be reported via the new bug report form.

in terms of writing, i am now porting episode 3. i have had rewrite plans for this chapter for a while, so i imagine this port will take some time. i was in the middle of writing episode 4 when i decided to make the twine jump lmao, so it hasn't been touched for a LONG time, probably since march. i plan to jump straight back into writing when episode 3 is all done!

like before, ep 3 won't be released until ep 4 has a first draft and i'm happy with the shape and direction. so it will be some time before i am able to release new content. but - we ball!

thank you for reading this far and i hope you enjoy the new and improved demo! happy reading! - becky :^)

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

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[themareverine]

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➳❥ Logan Howlett/Wolverine

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🔗💔💛🌶️ Mare & the Wolverine - AU!Origins!Logan Howlett x fem!OC 🔗💔💛🌶️ Until We Fall - Worst!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

── ONESHOTS

🔗💛 Wild Man- Logan Howlett x fem!OC 🔗💔💛 Bed of Bones - The Long Night!Logan Howlett x fem!OC 🔗💔💛🌶️ Designated Driver - oldman!Logan x fem!OC 🎉💛 Closer to Hell - shortking!DP&WLogan x fem!OC 🔗💔 Who We Are - dofp!Logan x mutant!fem!OC 🎉🌶️ God Laughs - dofp!Logan x fem!OC

🌶️💛 Only When It’s Right - Logan Howlett x fem!OC

── DRABBLES SERIES

A King & His Castle - oldman!Logan Howlett x fem!OC 🔗💛 IN YOU, MY FORTRESS

🌶️💛 TOY SOLDIERS - worst!wolverine x fem!OC

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[zvdvdlvr]

zvdvdlvr’s ‘Criminal Minds’ Masterlist

guide:

💋 - author’s favorite

🤍 - fluff

❤️‍🔥 - spicy

❤️‍🩹- angst

📌 - concept

💌 - blurb

🎞️ - moodboard

🎱 - headcanon

🔗 - series

↬ aaron hotchner | 1 |

I Love You 🤍

— 🧠. A tough case leaves you in the more than willing arms of SSA Aaron Hotchner.

ThighObsessed! Hotch 💌📌 | Hotch leaving marks on ur thighs 📌🤍❤️‍🔥

Waking up with Hotch 📌🤍

Hotch & Acts of Service 📌💌🤍

Random Hotch Thoughts 📌🤍

Hotch & Forhead Kisses 📌/💌🤍

Home 🤍❤️‍🩹

— 🧠. After being pronounced killed in action, female!reader comes back home.

The One with all the Alcohal (and Jack!) 🤍

— 🧠. Requested: would you write something about hotch collecting his drunk girlfriend? Jack Watching Aaron Take off your Makeup

— 🧠. another ending to ‘The One with all the Alcohal (and Jack!)

Thinking About Giving Aaron Head When He’s Mad 📌❤️‍🔥

Doctor!Aaron 🎞️

Hotch with a Short/Shy Reader 🎱🤍

We Regret to Inform You… ❤️‍🩹

— 🧠. Aaron is delivered news that shatters his world. (Part one of ‘Home’.)

Why’d You Have to Wait? ❤️‍🩹💋 🔗

You get kidnapped on a case. Aaron’s coping mechanism? Self isolation. But when you’re recovering, Aaron wonders if staying away from you is the right thing to do. Jack convinces him anyway. Are things too far gone for Aaron to fix?

Where Were You? Where Were You? ❤️‍🩹💋🔗

Aaron realizes how badly he messed up, but doesn’t know if he has the strength to mend the wounds he gave himself and you.

Just A Little Late ❤️‍🩹💋🔗

The day comes when Aaron realizes he has to talk to you. Is he able to repair your relationship or does he get the rejection he knows he deserves?

Good Night 🤍

Aaron knows you can’t sleep, so he offers his home to you. Just to help you sleep. Not to fall even deeper in love with you or anything- psh!

nerdy/sappy hotch+ secret relationship 🤍📌

hotch loves his deranged bau wife 🤍💋

Rainbow Aesthetic 🎞️📌

sheriff!hotch x outlaw!reader 💌🤍

Dad hotch coming home to his wife and two kiddos 💌🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Olive Garden Gift Card 💔🤍🤍

You meet your dad.

Personal Heating Pad 🤍

Aaron curls up with you- struck immobile with period cramps- and tries to soothe you. Spoiler: he always does!

Chiaroscuro 🤍

It was no doubt to anyone how attractive and smart your professor was. You recognized his jarring looks but figured throwing yourself at your professor (as other students in your class did) wouldn’t mean anything. To your surprise, Professor HOTchner wants to talk to you.

Popsicle. 🤍

request: Would love some more Hotchner blurbs. How about one where you are BAU and have a baby girl (name is up to you) and you bring in the little doll because you (and baby girl) wanted to see daddy?

singing little J to sleep 🤍💌

Eyes of a Stranger ❤️‍🩹

The man who you loved had been the one to withhold information to hurt you the most.

↬ emily prentiss

Dating Emily 🎞️

Braiding her Hair 📌

↬ spencer reid | 1 |

Lunch Break 🤍

Spencer hasn’t been feeling well lately. When he accidentally gives you his lunch as well as yours, you have to leave work to make sure he gets his lunch and eats to make sure he gets better. But the thing is, no one knew Spencer had married someone. (Welder!reader)

Alive and Breathing. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Spencer gets a phone call. (Welder!reader)

Always Love U. 🤍💌

dealer!spencer + “you’re so out of it, sweet girl”

Spencer x female!welder!reader 🎞️

Learning to Live Again. 🤍

It’s been four and a half months since your fall. You’re starting physical therapy, and the team (and your husband) is there for you every step of the way- as Aaron gets started on filing a product liability lawsuit. (Welder!reader)

Relapse ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥💌

You know you shouldn’t text Spencer, but he just fucks better than anyone else can.

spencer reid x soulmate reader 🤍💌

Burn Like an Animal(or: spencer hits up the club)❤️‍🔥🤍💌🔗

Burn it Down 🤍🔗

spencer meeting goth reader 🤍

“I Didn’t Know you Liked This Stuff” ❤️‍🔥

[suguru-getos]

//fractures// geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 2

🔗-> part one

warnings: hurt-comfort, mentions of wounds, mentions of stitches, guilt, complex emotions from suguru, panic attacks, reader is in a dark headspace, fluff too!! 🙂‍↔️💅🏻

story summary: being a monkey is the norm except when you're captured by geto sama because he needs money from your parents. however, you may just have to suffer a little extra because of the forced thinking about the right and wrongs... you're putting him through. the affection you’re forcing him through…

chapter summary: suguru tends to you after the whole ordeal caused by him, still conflicted & somehow tortured with the way his heart pangs at your condition. 🩷

a/n: please comment down below if you want to be tagged in the taglist <3 thank you ‼️ it's so evident that i'm just writing this for my own silly liddul heart TT_TT

an hour, at maximum. an hour had passed from when geto left your bleeding, tattered body on the bed. the mark of 'MONKEY' with deep, gashing cuts and the way your blood oozed out of your injured, broken skin was haunting his very core. he did it majorly for himself, just to remind himself that you're one. you're nothing but a monkey and monkeys shouldn't have the freedom of life. monkeys are filthy- monkeys breed curses- monkeys are disgusting and vile- monkeys-

his own feet betrayed him quickly when he found himself running for your room. the cream colored satin bedsheet stained with blood. your foot prints stained with blood directing towards the bathroom. his can feel his heart sink at the sheer amount of blood loss. jaw clenching and a soft wave of anxiety which ripens with every passing moment hugging him. did you… die? no, no its just been an hour-

he rushes to the bathroom door, watching you lay limp, holding a piece of gauze in your bloodied hands. you must have passed out by trying to give yourself first aid. he falls to his knees, tears in his eyes seeping through at the sight of usual color in your lip faded to discoloration. you look so peaceful when you sleep. he finally notices the wound inflicted by him on you, it was looking lethal. a striking reminder that you were a monkey and he was, well, a monster.

he doesn't understand what's happening, he was pretty clear that he needs to irradicate the whole human race, he has to. only those with superior selves, who can withstand not creating a curse should be allowed to live. how will he achieve this milestone when his heart weeps at the sight of one pathetic little human half his size losing consciousness.

his bulky and sturdy arms wrap around your body, hugging you closer to him and taking you to his room. your room was a blood bath anyway, he needs to ask the servants to clean it up. gently placing your body atop the plush mattress of his room, he took out his first aid kit, good thing you had been passed out. your wounds are deep and require stitches. he can't bear any more of your screams now without breaking like glass. his mind has already decided to punish him with repeated rings and episodes of your cries and wails when suguru did this to you. he wishes they could stop - he wishes they never stop. he needs to be punished.

bringing your wrist close to him, he decides to stitch those gashes up, watching your face every few seconds. you were knocked out cold, not an expression on your pretty face. he feels like it’s a win, when you'll be awake, at least you wouldn't see the word 'MONKEY' engraved on you… then again, it will scar, and it will scar bad. "you're pathetic" he hums at your sleeping form. "fragile, useless, powerless, pathetic." he adds on, the sentence more a reminder to his own self rather than for you. you're not listening to this anyway. "I could snap your neck like a twig and you wouldn't be able to defend yourself. anyone I call my family could." he sighs, fuck - he's tearing up again. you almost look dead over just an anger tantrum of his. he really needs to be very careful. you're like a little bunny who could die at the slightest bit of carelessness.

a few hours pass with suguru holding your hand, observing the crests and troughs of your sleeping face, how your chest barely heaves but still reminds him that you're alive. he couldn't be more glad that you're alive. he hates that. he hates that it brings him joy that your heart is still beating. he hates that you are bringing him joy and copious amounts of guilt.

"geto sama!" nanako gleams from outside his bedroom door. he wipes his tears at the sound of his adopted daughter's voice. "yes? what is it?" he hums from inside. "the monkey isn't in her room!" she pouts from outside, and suguru gets up to open his door. the teenager watching you lie down on geto's bed with a face of confusion. why were you laying down on 'their' geto sama's room? you- a monkey- the look of disgust in her face is inevitable.

"relax, nanako." he hums, "we need to return her to her parents after 9 days." he responds with his usual close-eyed feline smile. "yeah, but why is she here?" she pouts, "she's too pretty for a monkey though-" a frown envelopes her face. "I agree." suguru looks at you momentarily, a moment of longing and guilt erupting from the depths of his heart before quickly snapping out of it. "I got angry at her, and punished her." he continues, while nanako could see with the way the gauze bandage on your forearm was inflicted with dark reds of blood, that you indeed, were punished. "what did she do?" she asks instinctively and suguru gnaws at his lower lip.

nothing. you did absolutely nothing.

"well, she is a monkey after all." nanako adds, shrugging. "her purpose is as our 'money collecting monkey', isn't it?" she asks him, and he faintly nods. "well, if she really made you angry, geto sama. I suggest you can kill her after getting the money!" she chirps as if it was the most normal thing to say. suguru, on the other hand, feel sickened to his stomach at the thought. "hmm. I need some time alone, nanako" he declares, watching the teen leave his room and locking his door.

he's quick to grace himself in the sanctuary of your presence though, hand back holding yours. "just nine more days of you here, monkey." he reminds both of you. "then your parents will come and get you and this wouldn't exist." he smiles, a sadness spreading across his face.

------------------------------------------------------------

you don't wake up for one and a half days. the exhaustion on your body, the lack of nutrition and the loss of blood demands rest. AND, geto suguru is absolutely tweaking!

he sat next to you, watching you gently, leaning beside you against the headboard. you didn't wake up. he hasn't showered, hasn't gone out of his bed. his family thinks its weird, but they don't push him. suguru is a tantrum king after all, and a pissed off suguru chan is best avoided. the next morning, you're awake before noon. suguru hasn't budged, he has declined all his meetings, all his catch-ups, everything. why? he doesn't know that now, his mind doesn't give him the time to reason for any of it right now. the hollow pit of anxiety that was created was now a bottomless one. he wanted relief from it, he wanted to see you awake! shoko- maybe he needs to talk to shoko-

you shifted a little and his attention is immediately diverted to you, looking at you with the biggest sigh of relief possible. "ah-" a pained whimper escaped you, it hurts everywhere. your ribs hurt, you can barely breathe, tears sting your eyes as you groan, trying to get up. the lack of iron in your body making you dizzy. "good morning, it's afternoon now." suguru hums, just 7 days with you. why is he counting days like a mad man in prison?! before you could process anything, your eyes widened when you heard his voice, heart fluttering out of your very chest and breathless pants echoing in the room. you gripped your chest, it burns, your lungs burn from the lack of air your body can't get due to the whole panic of it all. what will he do? will he hurt you again? fuck- your head hurts, everything hurts- "plea- please" you gasp out, the veins in your forehead strained and popping as you began wailing again. shrieks and cries of pain and panic.

suguru doesn't know what to do about it, he needs to hug you close and tell you it's going to be okay. he wouldn't hurt you. he feels sorry- you don't have to break apart like this- does he even deserve to say that?

instinct… he is just acting on his instinct now.

"breathe with me, ssh~ listen, listen, little one. look at me, breathe with me. deep breath in- come on- follow me-" his voice is soft, but you're inconsolable. you have your very own instinct, the instinct to flee from him. the instinct to run away from him. you struggle against his hold and choke on sobs, leaning away. suguru is quick to pull you back to him, your head against his chest, soft head pats coming after. "ssh ssh ssh~ nothing's happening, no one's going to hurt you." he echoes it repeatedly. "that's it, that's it…" his own rapid heartbeats turning calmer and calmer as your shoulders slump back in exhaustion. you stop resisting after a few minutes, letting him hold you softly.

"just seven more days, and you'll be home." suguru hums to comfort you.

"I hope you die." you mumbled with equal hatred to his comfort. may as well be killed instead of spending seven whole days with him… "I hope everyone you ever knew dies, and they die in front of you." you spit out in your venom laced tone after calming down, trying to lean away from suguru's hug.

"and? who will kill them? you?" he is almost amused, but nothing you say with outweigh his guilt right now. "let’s get you cleaned up and get you to a doctor." he announces. he still has 7 ol' days with you after all.

[vampsired]

☆ masterlist ✎ Jujutsu Kaisen

I POST 1-2 TIMES DAILY !!! total works: 40 favs = ❤︎

[disclaimer: if a post is said to be posted at a time and is not linked, check my most recent blog posts or scroll through the #’s below for it <3 # for smaus, fics & headcannons etc]

• HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC SERIES •

• GROUP SMAUs- Hidden Inventory Arc (HIA) group chat. cast ᯓ✦: gojo, geto, shoko, nanami, haibara, & utahime

─── texts

Gojo time out: part one

Gojo time out: part two

Gojo’s Big Back-tivites ❤︎

Barbie movies x GC debate

GCs fav disney princesses

Revision with the JJK characters

part one : GC x Y/N likes who?? + bonus priv texts ❤︎

⤷ part two : GC x Y/N’s ‘date’

GC x Girls on a trip ❤︎

Gc x Kiss, Marry, Kill

Who’s awake? x GC

Get this spider x GC ❤︎

Stupid questions x GC

‘The Perfect Couple?’ x GC ❤︎

Pick a movie ! x GC + bonus priv texts

Training [failed] x GC

Pre-Exchange event drama

Karaoke Day x GC

Babysitting x GC ❤︎ ⤷ P2 : babysitting Himari w/Haibara and Nanami -drabble

Game Night x GC

Gojo’s cookies: gone wrong x GC ❤︎

Gojo’s food combos x GC ❤︎

Pizza night x GC

Date?? X GC +insta post +priv chats ❤︎

Geto’s spice tolerance x GC

Injured x GC ︎ ︎❤︎

Dating advice x GC

Late Dinner Plans x GC new post !

Argument x GC JUST POSTED !!!!

⋘ upcoming works… ⋙

Amusement park x GC 🔗 request

I’m pretty? x GC 🔗request

•send requests and I’ll choose some to write when i can>.<•

─── drabbles

Babysitting Haibara’s younger sister with him and Nanami

─── social media

Happy Birthday Y/N insta smau

HIA characters as your best friend: part one

HIA characters as your best friend: part two

Night Out X HIA characters: part one

Night Out X HIA characters: part two

• CHARACTER SMAU AU

─── social media

Rockstar!Geto Suguru insta AU ❤︎

• HEADCANNONS + SILLY n FUNNY STUFF

JJK characters as cats: part one

JJK characters as cats: part two

Random things about JJK characters ❤︎

Hobbies JJK characters would have

• FICS

…

⨳ return to navigation. feel free to send requests ᡣ𐭩

[sonysakura]

✒ Poll to Decide the Fate of my Ao3

I'll be upfront, I'm unsure why I'm doing this 🤷 Maybe because I gained a couple dozens of new Ao3 subscribers recently and people have been reading my stuff actively, though they aren't commenting... Figured I'll give both new and old readers a chance to save the writing they (possibly) like.

For the past half a year I've been thinking about deleting my Ao3. Isn't news for the members of my server but might be for the others unless they noticed me deleting the last fic I posted (in July). The reason is simple: the situation with Sonic Big Bang 2024 thoroughly broke my confidence and frankly, my sense of self as a writer (esp as a Sonadow fic writer). And I know some would agree with that mod who basically told me she doesn't care about what happened to me because "we're just strangers online", and that what happened shouldn't affect me either... Silly me for whom my writing is my entire life and my only reliable outlet, being so affected by a blow to my core. Ha-ha. Sure, it should be embarrassing how much Sonic Big Bang 2024 wrecked me. But instead, it is scary how much this doodle is still true. I guess it is just unfortunate they decided to ban me the week of the elections in my country and the consequences of the anti-LGBT+ laws hitting us full-force… If there's one thing the event mods and my government agrees on, it's that gay hedgehogs are a threat to society. It's a pity that's what I write.

Normally, I write for myself and I always like what I write when writing for myself (hell, I wrote Married Hedgehogs series to read it before bed). But now... I almost hate everything I wrote and/or posted after March. I cringe about the 2nd chapter of Gloves and Rings and that Sonadow x Lethal Company fic, and I think that Merlina study is seriously lacking – any comments otherwise feel like pity, esp after I mentioned that I feel insecure about people not commenting. I re-read At the Castle Gate (that story I deleted off Ao3 in July) recently, and I disliked it again. Everything I wrote that I still haven't published (20 stories below, either fully completed or missing some final touches) feels fake, foolish and terrible. Everything I write – no matter what – is worthless to me. What's worse, I can't even look at my old stories the same now.

I have now been roughly 6 months on hiatus and 10 months mostly unable to enjoy my writing. It is safe to assume I'm not going to be able to do it for a while longer – if ever. I wanted to delete my Ao3 even. And I felt guilty about hoarding my texts. So, as someone who gets sad when authors disappear or delete their stories... I'm giving you, readers, a chance to decide what you want to see.

*Don't worry about forcing me to post smth I dislike if you pick this option. I wouldn't be offering it as an option if it brought me pain. I'm more apathetic about my Ao3 than anything else nowadays... In short, you want my Sonadow or SatBK or whatever stories no matter what I'm thinking about them myself? Pick option 2. Guilt-free.

Tagging with some fandom tags for people who read my stuff before but don't follow me.

🔗 Same poll on Twitter X