#busy schedule hacks

[amitkakkarhealthyway]

(AmitkakkarHealthyway)

[erinestacio]

Run Your House Like a Business

When I first had babies and an entire house to manage…I was VERY overwhelmed because I love an orderly home, but simply didn’t know how to obtain that without spending hours upon hours doing mundane-feeling chores. My problem wasn’t the amount of work I had to do, it was how I went about doing it.Fast forward several years, and I created a system for myself that allows me an orderly home without…

[makeupreviewandbeautyblog]

Make-Up Hacks for Busy Students 

Appearance gives a person the confidence to face the day. Make-up will boost your esteem, enabling you to make excellent presentations, attend meetings, and create an amazing college album. However, a busy college life renders it difficult to apply makeup right. Apply make-up right takes time. Unfortunately, you are rushing to class after rising early to work on some personal project. You are…

[sunderwight]

Thinking about a scenario where (pre-Plot Happening) Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua have a tiff, and Shang Qinghua goes back to his peak and honestly he isn't trying to make MBJ apologize first or anything, he just gets so busy that he doesn't have time to grovel (kind of forgets they had an argument in the first place because it's not like MBJ is going to kill him YET unless he does something really egregious, they're on a schedule), but Mobei Jun is just fuming in his ice palace like "that asshole thinks I can't replace him, I can absolutely replace him, he's sooo replaceable" and etc.

So Mobei Jun tries it. He's going to hire himself another evil advisor. Another groveling rat minion. Maybe a dozen groveling rat minions! He's a demon king, these sorts of people are not hard to find. They can't all be working for his shitstain uncle!

And they aren't, of course. Finding a minion who is loyal to Mobei Jun (well, relatively) rather than any of his rivals actually isn't that hard. Mobei Jun is the most promising demon strength-wise of his generation, he's the direct heir, and he's less absent from court than his father and less treacherous and scheme-y than his uncle. There's a whole crowd he appeals to, who serve him readily and have no motive to turn on him.

But.

Turns out that there is a specific combination of traits which Shang Qinghua brought to the table, and none of his new groveling sycophants have it. The ones who are the best at sucking up also tend to be the worst at having actual skills. The ones who are good at their assigned tasks don't have much of an interest in complimenting his tits or telling him this or that cloak really brings out his eyes. The ones who do tell him those kinds of things also keep turning up in his bed, which is unwelcome and annoying. No one can offer him nebulous sort-of-prophetic insights to the goings-on of his realm either, or if they try to, they turn out to be hacks and charlatans with woefully low accuracy rates. A lot of them just outright lie to try and manipulate him against their rivals or enemies.

Within a week Mobei Jun is frazzled, exhausted, and finally ready to apologize.

He shows up on An Ding Peak and slaps Shang Qinghua across the face. The most self-debasing sign of desire that he can extend. Open palm and everything. He's practically on his knees begging Shang Qinghua for forgiveness (he's not actually, though, after all he's still extremely arrogant demon royalty).

Several years into the future, Shang Qinghua will dimly recollect the incident after actually learning about demon courtship customs (he wrote them, doesn't mean he was actually paying attention to them) and ask what that was about, and Mobei Jun will have a Hollywood style PTSD flashback both to that and to the second time he and SQH had a big fight and SQH left, and not properly answer him.

[charmedreincarnation]

Dream life before the EOTS challenge

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Hello beautiful people! I totally get it- as the end of the school year approaches, I understand there's this huge push to finally tap into our dream lives before the beginning of the next school year. But here’s the thing, I don’t want you all to get too caught up in the timing. Instead, I’m excited to share with you a mix of my favorite techniques that can truly help you tap into your dream life, as we should!

Consistency is going to be your best friend here, and naturally, feel free to adjust these to better suit your preferences. I’ve got this strong feeling that this challenge is going to be particularly impactful for those who thrive on methodical approaches and have been searching for their calling for some time now. the journey to your dream life isn’t about rushing or meeting arbitrary deadlines. It’s about finding what resonates with you, applying it with dedication, and allowing your things to unfold in its own way. Use this for anything… your dream life, shifting, the void state, it does not matter ! Just Remember, the journey to your dream life isn’t about rushing or meeting arbitrary deadlines, please be kind and patient with yourself !

——————————————————————————

What we will be using this challenge

1.I am 100% sure technique

2.living in the end

3.reverse psychology techniques

4.Questions technique x SATs

5.optional* lucid dreaming

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1.This is inspired by @gorgeouslypink ‘s challenge but…

Every morning, as soon as you wake up, either say or write or think "I am sure that I will [insert desire]. Anytime you think of your desire, think or repeat that affirmation to yourself as a reminder. You don’t have to do it a billion times. Once is enough and move on with your life. Another tip is, one of my first shifts was by using the 5 sense method while listening to music. Affirming while listening to your favorite song or sound is basically a hack to get you into your desired state.The key is to do it while listening to a song that makes you feel euphoric and in the morning to revise your mind while it’s in theta state ! Just during those times !!! don’t parrot affirmations if it stresses you out

2. You should be "living in the end" in whatever way inspires you. I encourage you all to create your vision boards on Pinterest if you're a visual person, and really immerse yourself in the joy of knowing this is your life. Those are your pictures.

If you're more of a writer, script your success story that you'll send to me, or write a thank you note to your favorite blogger. In the draft, mention how you used this technique along with whatever else you're doing. Write with the conviction that it's real.

For those aspiring to be YouTubers, film a mock video. If you envision yourself becoming a TikToker, start drafting video ideas. And if your dream is to be an actor, do practice runs of your favorite script, if you’re going to be an entrepreneur, draft your business ideas and proposals and draw inspo from your favorite successful entrepreneurs!

Guys, fulfilling yourself and living in the end should be fun! Embrace your inner child, remember how easy it was to believe in Santa Claus even when you were with your mom buying gifts. To become famous like the kids on Disney, all you had to do was desire it and practice making the Disney sign with a wand. Let's bring that love back to manifesting.

3.If you're someone who likes vaunting or affirmations, instead of just parroting affirmations, use the reverse psychology method! Talk about how tired you are of succeeding, how you want to wake up in your CR not your DR, how you're tired of waking up in the void, how lucid dreaming every night by accident ruins your sleep schedule, etc. Do some of the vaunting in front of a mirror, I don’t know theosucholgy about it but vaunting with convections in front of mirror looking straight into my own eyes always brought me results in days.

4. Before bed, think about what you want, imagine being there, and start asking yourself creative questions. Really picture yourself in that situation and take part in it as you answer. One at a time, slowly, we'll get into each question by thinking up answers and feeling like we're really there.

The whole point is to immerse ourselves in the reality of this state as we paint the portrait. Ask yourself whatever questions, then imagine that scene. It doesn’t matter if you do 40 or just 1. Ask yourself what it’s like to enter the void state every night and have a scene of you living your dream life doing whatever you want. Ask yourself what it’s like to be a girl who shifts reality while people fight over resources in the 3D, and imagine yourself in your WR (Waiting ROOM) or DR (Desired Reality) living your dream life. Ask yourself what it’s like being someone who is wealthy in the top 0.001% and imagine a scene of buying expensive things, checking your bank account, and making lunch with finer ingredients. Again, it should be fun; it doesn’t matter how specific or vague the questions are, how long or short the scene is, whether it’s one scene or 100 scenes. Fulfill yourself in SATS (State Akin to Sleep). Whether we do this before a nap, after you wake up, or before you go to bed, it does not matter. Pair this with a nice Subliminal with good music if you desire

5.Combine this with anything from my lucid dreaming guide that resonates with you, or just assume you’ll have a lucid dream and read all the ways you can shift/manifest/or enter the void through in my LD guide!

I know how busy everyone is; this shouldn't take a lot of time, nor should it feel pressuring or like a task. We all deserve our dream life and, most importantly, we all deserve to feel fulfilled as we embody the people we truly are. During this challenge, be kind to yourself, remember why you’re doing this and who it’s for—it's for you. Be persistent and have patience, not just to be a good follower of the law but to be good to yourself! We all can do it; I know it.

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.2

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Ch Notes: No warnings for this chapter, Krolik=Bunny, Sestra=Sister

Summary: Wanda was sent away on important business, by the time she comes back you're all grown up and a part of the family company. Wanda doesn't come back home empty handed in fact she returns with a brand new wife.

An: Ok someone asked me for Ch.2 early and I had to deliver. Next Ch.3 will be up on Monday. Stay tuned and hope you enjoy.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

True to their word, the Maximoff’s provided you with a roof over your head and protection wherever you went. You never worried about your mother again and you saw your father whenever his schedule permitted. However, your primary residence was with the Maximoff’s. They were just as kind as they had always been.

Dragos and Flora paid for anything you could ever want or need. They paid for your tuition at NYU, though you tried to argue against it. You double majored in software engineering and physics. Without the constant insecurities that your parents piled on you, you were able to reach new academic heights.

Wanda had gone off right before her college graduation, Dragos said she was doing important work internationally. He didn’t know when she would be returning. There was a small part of you that hated that the woman didn’t come to your graduation, but a card from her in the mail was enough to make you smile.

Once you had your degrees you weighed your options. After multiple boring interviews and under stimulating work you finally asked Dragos if there was anything you could do in the family business. Pietro wasn’t thrilled about you wanting to be involved, but once he saw you at work, he knew you’d fit right in.

The crime was fronted by a legitimate business that Dragos owned. Which meant that you got to work out of one the tallest office buildings in New York. Your standing with the family also afforded you a desk pretty high up. When you weren’t hacking into competitors’ systems or running field operations, you did simple accounting for the company. It was easier that way, as the numbers for both the true business and the under-cover business were vetted by you.

“Y/n, come on a delivery with me?” Pietro pops his head into your office space.

“What kind of delivery?”

He smirks, “Special.”

You quickly grab your jacket and follow him out of your office. As you navigate to the bottom floor the two of you make small talk.

“So, when are you going to stop playing around and ask Monica out?”

Pietro rolls his eyes, “When you date someone for more than 2 outings.”

You feign a pained look, “Ouch, that one hurts Piet.”

“The truth often does.”

Once you both are out of the building and into the car your demeanor changes a bit, “So who are these going to?”

“Mr. H.”

You groan, “That guy’s sketchy, I don't like him.”

Pietro laughs, “I’m sure a lot of people feel the same way about us. “

“Whatever,” you mumble, scrolling through your phone.

The rest of the ride is quiet, until you pull up to the drop of location. “So, I’m going in and dropping the stuff off. You’re going to wait for me in the driver's seat.”

“Why the driver’s seat?”

He blinks at you, “In case we need to get away faster, you'll already be in here. Keep the car running, this should be quick.”

While Pietro goes in to handle the business, you let your mind spiral into thoughts about Wanda. You miss her and feel like it has been too long. Dragos said that she ended up staying in Russia for awhile before heading to their home country of Sokovia. Apparently, while he ran the business here, she ran the operations over there.

You weren’t surprised that Wanda was trusted with such an important role, she always had leadership qualities. For a long while you thought you wanted to be just like her. Instead, you realized that the older woman had been someone you were interested in. Wanda had nearly a decade on you in age, but how could you not like her as a young queer girl.

Sometimes you could still feel her hand delicately grazing your torso as she patched up the wounds your mother inflicted. For awhile in the Maximoff’s home everyone treated you as if you would break into a million pieces. Maybe Wanda did too, but it was different with her.

She wasn’t just careful with you because she was scared, you’d break, but she truly believed that you deserved the care. Even when you began training with her, she treated you delicately. You wanted to learn how to protect yourself and she stepped right in and became the perfect teacher. You also began going to the gym with Pietro at least once a week. You weren’t trying to be buff, but just in shape enough to defend yourself if you needed.

Even though your outward appearance changed to be stronger. You felt as though Wanda saw right through that into your deepest insecurities and tended to them accordingly.

Your daydreaming is cut short by Pietro busting out of the warehouse where the drop was supposed to take place, with the goods still in his hand.

“DRIVE! DRIVE! DRIVE!”

He jumps into the passenger seat, and you hit the gas. Pietro is talking to you, but your adrenaline is kicking in. Your fieldwork doesn’t really get this exciting without a debrief. Getaway driver is definitely a new change in speed.

Your eyes focus solely on the road, ignoring what the man is saying as his chest heaves up and down. A quick glance in the rearview mirror tells you that they are following you. While you are curious about what happened, those questions can be answered later. 

Pietro is actually mildly impressed with your driving skills. Your sharp turns and redirections are top notch in his opinion. Though you are doing great the guys are still tailing you.

You think for a moment, trying to remember the nearest parking garage. You realize that it’s behind you and brake hard, you weave through oncoming traffic to try to get to the parking garage.

“Get ready to hop out,” you say to Pietro parking the car. Once you do the blonde starts running on foot and you call after him. He stops in his tracks frantic until he sees you breaking into another car. When you get in you drive normally out of the parking structure and straight back to the office.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n I didn’t know you could drive like that?”

Pietro grabs the wooden box from his lap before walking to the elevator. He wipes his hands on his jeans and proceeds as though it was a just another day.

“So, what the fuck happened?”

He raises an eyebrow, “You weren’t listening in the car?”

“Duh, I was a little preoccupied with the whole driving for my life thing.”

“I guess you'll hear it when I tell Papa then.”

The two of you are definitely headed to the top floor of the building to inform Dragos of what has transpired. Pietro is never one for knocking and simply barges into the man’s office.

“Papa, do you have a- Sestra?”

Pietro’s sentence dies in his throat as he gets a glimpse of his older sister. He wastes no time sitting in the wooden box on a couch nearby and scooping up the redhead in a tight hug. You could hear them exchanging more words in their mother language. It’s an unexpectedly tender moment as Pietro tries to keep things on the light side.

Somewhere in the hug Wanda’s eyes land on you and they widen slightly. She untangles herself from her brother to get a good look at you. She’s older, as expected, but age had been more than kind to her. Wanda looks as elegant as ever, an air of distinguish surrounds her.

The way she looks at you makes you feel like a teenager again. You do your best not to squirm under her gaze. When a smile placed itself on her lips, you feel relief washing over you. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she pulls you in to a big hug.

Her hands rise to hold your face, pulling back just slightly. She wants to get a good look at you. The softness of her hands causes you to blush.

“You’ve grown up on me little krolik.”

She releases the hold, and you speak, “You’ve been gone a long time, Wanda.”

There it is, in your voice for the first time in years; That fragile tone that you had only ever allowed Wanda to hear. You hope it didn't sound as desperate to everyone else in the room and it didn't. But Wanda picked up on it instantly.

“I have, but now I'm back; permanently,” Wanda says, keeping her eyes on you.

“And she brought a friend,” Dragos interjects, and you watch Wanda roll her eyes.

“She’s more than a friend Papa, she’s my wife and she’s sitting right here. I expect you to treat her kindly.”

Wanda is married and to a woman. Your mind scrambles to piece together what had happened in the years that she was gone for this to be the case. It is hard for you to digest what the woman had said. Your breathing becomes a little shallow, but no one takes notice.

Finally, you take notice of the other woman in the room, sitting in the chair next to the one Wanda had just been sitting in. Your mouth dries at the sight of her. The woman is stunning. Her auburn hair is a few shades darker than Wanda’s. She has a button nose, soft pink lips and piercing green eyes. You couldn't be mad at Wanda for marrying such a beautiful woman.

“Sestra, you’re married?” Pietro exclaims, looking between the two women dramatically.

“Yes; Y/n, Pietro, this is my wife, Natasha Romanoff.”

Your eyes linger on the woman even when Dragos claps his hands together to get the attention of the room, “Piet you were saying something important. I see that Mr. H didn't get his package.”

Any further pleasantries would have to wait.

“Papa it was a bad deal. They tried short me on our exchange, so I told them they could either bring me the rest of what they owe, or I’d be walking. They planned to take the package from me, so I ran immediately to the car. Of course they chased after me, but thanks to need for speed over here we got away.”

Dragos pinches the bridge of his nose lightly, “Don’t I always say being back up?”

Pietro answers back, “I took Y/n.”

This causes Natasha to chuckle a bit.

Your eyes narrow at her, “Something funny?”

She doesn’t back down, “Well from the way Wanda described you, you don't necessarily scream back up.”

Your jaw clenches slightly and you steal a quick glance at Wanda, “Wanda hasn’t seen me in over 5 years. I’m not that fragile little kid anymore.”

Dragos nods proudly, “Y/n is the biggest asset we have in this organization. She’s by far the glue that holds this all together and I will not tolerate any disrespect thrown her way.” The final part of his sentence carries a lot of weight to it, it’s a verbal warning.

Wanda clears her throat, “Hammerhead is a loyal customer, why would he try to cheat us?”

“He could have a new dealer,” you speak up. “Someone who might be charging less for similar goods.”

“You think someone is dumb enough to try to undercut us?” Pietro questions.

You speak candidly, “I think that people in this city can be greedy, and greed blinds all good sense.”

Dragos clearly agrees, “We need eyes and ears on the streets listening to anything about dealers that aren't us. I need a meeting with Hammerhead to make sure he’s got that big ugly head of his on straight. Y/n if I can't sell this, I'm going to have see a profit of this quantity somewhere else on the sheets.”

“Let Natasha and I come with you to your meeting Papa. I want you to see what we're capable of.”

“Papa, is this woman going to be joining our group?” Pietro asks.

You turn your attention to Dragos, curious of what the man has to say. There is an unbridled shine in Wanda’s eyes and a small upturn of Natasha’s lip. They seem to think that the man would say yes immediately.

Instead, he heavily sighs, “For now Ms. Romanoff is simply Wanda’s… wife. There is a chance that she’ll be given access to join. However, her involvement isn’t guaranteed. So just to be clear, she’s not going to be sitting in on the meeting.”

Wanda wants to fight back, you can tell, but she refrains. The playfulness of her features dissipates as she responds, “Is she at least allowed to stay and watch them work?”

“Y/n do you mind if Ms. Romanoff shadows you for the rest of the day?” You know what Dragos was actually asking of you. He wants you to vet her.

Your eyes land on the woman, staring at her intensely, “Sure.”

She squirms in her seat which makes you smile a bit.

“Pietro,” Dragos starts.

“Eyes & ears I’ve got it Papa,” he’s out of the door fast, setting the plan in motion.

Dragos presses a small button on his desk, “Kate can you set up a meeting between Hammerhead & I. It needs to be as soon as possible. Make it clear that if I’m kept waiting, there will be extra fees to pay. Ones that can't be bought by money.”

“No problem Mr. Maximoff. Should I have Clint get the car ready?” She responds over the intercom.

“That’ll be great, thank you Kate.”

Now it is Wanda who claps her hands, “So I guess it’s time to get to work. Which mean it’s time to say goodbye to my beautiful wife and my little krolik.”

Natasha stands from her seat and places a gentle kiss on Wanda’s lips. “Be safe,” she murmurs, not quite ready to part from her wife.

“I’ll be fine Nat, it’s just business as usual.”

Something about the two women in the same line of sight together made you feel weird. You had seen beautiful couples before, but you seem to be a little mesmerized by the sight of Natasha and Wanda. For now, you would say that it was just the shock of seeing Wanda after all these years and being blindsided by the news of her marriage.

“Have you changed too much to give me a hug before you go?”

The teasing tone in Wanda’s voice makes you roll your eyes. You walk over to her nonetheless, “I hugged you earlier, you know.”

Wanda doesn’t hesitate to pull you into another hug. “I know, but maybe two is too much for the new Y/n.”

You look up at her, maybe for a second too long, and you can’t help yourself, “Don’t worry, part of me is still your little krolik.”

A slight blush paints over her features as she smiles at you, “Good, keep my wife safe, ok?”

Your eyes cut to Natasha, “Of course, I’ll leave you guys to it.”

You walk out of the office with Wanda’s wife trailing closely behind you.  

“So, are you going to show me what makes you the glue?”

Her words make smile tug on the edge of your lips, “If you’re lucky.”

[anonymousangstmonster]

Prompt #34

Little three year old Danny Fenton died when he accidentally zapped himself with a live wire. The parents were devastated, and tried all that they could to bring him back, and they succeeded!

In a week they managed to resurrect their baby by making him half-ghost.

But ever since then he would have random and unpredictable fits of aggression and violence. Sometimes they would be mere days apart, other times they would be several months apart.

So unfortunately they had to keep him under control. To do that they put a padded shackle that he couldn’t phase out of around his ankle, chained to the wall with a rubber coated, lightweight, double-reinforced, long chain.

His new room was a little corner of the lab sectioned off by a semicircle of glass with toggle-able fogginess. You might have thought that it was plain and sterile like the rest of the lab, and you’d be wrong, it was pretty cozy. The space was bigger than his old room, and the ceiling was twice as high. He had a desk and chair, three bird nest-like hammocks(one of which was more like a hidy-hole), his old bed, a couch and tv with a wii console, a mini-fridge for juice and water, a shelf for snacks, little model spaceships hanging from the ceiling, and monkey bars. The hammocks and monkey bars were attached to the wall, though that wasn’t a problem for him since he could fly. The wall was painted with a mural of the night sky and there were NASA posters plastered everywhere.

Even with the parents busy schedules they took the time to homeschool him, and encouraged his love of astronomy.

The Fentons hired a whole team devoted to his wellbeing, a doctor, a therapist, a tutor for when neither of them had the time, a lawyer, and even a specific CPS agent came to visit him every once in a while to bring him his favorite tea.

The FentonWorks lab was heavily secured, with voice activated and handprint required entry, so many firewalls that the place was harder to hack into than the Pentagon.

Fortunately for Sam, her best friend has had plenty of experience hacking into the Pentagon. So she brought him along to break her in when she heard that there was human experimentation going on in FentonWorks.

What she didn’t expect to see was a healthy looking(if a bit pale) boy, lounging on a couch playing video games on a large tv while snacking on a bag of Doritos at three AM.

A boy that would soon be let outside the lab for the first time in eleven years to attend high school.

Man, I really like making Danny grow up thinking that being the product of your parents lab experiment is normal.

[sectumsempraaa]

Being coworkers w/ the Slytherin boys (headcanons)

feat. Draco, Mattheo, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo

this one’s for the working folks bc you KNOW these guys would make work so much more fun!! :)

Draco:

- extremely punctual

- judges you for how you write emails

- picks you up in his car before your shift every day

- has a kettle plugged in AT his desk for maximum tea drinking

- will often leave you a cup on your desk too without you asking for it

- writes 95% of paperwork by hand

- kisses ass to your boss but vents to you later about how much he hates them

- overdresses even on casual fridays

- takes his lunch break with you every day and has your meals delivered (doesnt even ask what you want, he’s just good at this)

- gets turned on when you sit on his desk and look down at him

Mattheo:

- consistently 5-10 minutes late but everyone’s just kinda used to it

- takes mass transportation bc he keeps failing his drivers test

- stops to get you both coffee before work (thats why he’s late!!)

- will respond to emails you’re too scared to answer

- similarly will pick up the phone when you don’t want to

- office pranks galore with this guy

- calls you from his desk (it’s next to yours) to ask you to meet him somewhere so y’all can makeout

- also calls you when he sees someone he KNOWS you hate trying to talk to you at your desk to get you out of it

- post-shift treat several times a week

- most likely to pleasure you from under your desk 🤭

Theo:

- gets distracted easily and falls behind on work

- is so quiet no one really even knows he’s there

- bribes the office manager into making you his secret santa

- has a private email thread between the two of you that goes on and on all day with complete nonsense and memes

- visits your cubicle and sits there for like an hour at a time

- holds your hand under the table during meetings

- “ugh can we go home now” “theo we haven’t even clocked in yet”

- hacks the system to change the schedule around so you always have the same shifts

- cooks your lunches at home and brings them to work for you

- 100% takes naps under his desk when you’re out sick and he’s alone/bored

Blaise:

- gets along with everyone

- often leads meetings and presentations bc everyone trusts him

- winks at you from across the office several times a day

- has everything in his desk from stain remover to first aid kit to microwaveable ramen

- checks each paycheck (and yours) to make sure y’all get paid RIGHT

- hugs you from behind your chair like 1000 times a day (ft. neck kisses)

- flies paper cranes into your cubicle with cheesey pick up lines

- knows how to get your fav snacks from the vending machine without paying

- will randomly do some of your tasks bc he’s so ahead on his

- LOVES a business trip and gets you two ALL the travel upgrades

Lorenzo:

- does not give a fuck about getting anything done

- but somehow is pretty much always caught up/in good standing

- does the bare minimum but makes up for it by being extremely charming

- faxes you (yes, faxes) memes when he is extra bored

- steals people’s things off their desk if he doesn’t like them

- never abides by the dress code

- lies to your boss to get you out of meetings and leave work early

- convinces you to call out with him so you can spend the day together

- has a keycard that opens every door in the building, don’t ask how he got it

- switches nametags/IDs with you and thinks its the funniest thing in the world

- headphones in 24/7

ALL of them love to say “if you ever leave i have to quit too. i can’t work here without you” and they MEAN it!!

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: Learning (love) Languages

Julian -

Does not know where to begin when it comes to gifts. Does he want to give you something? Yes! Does he want to give you something thoughtful, based off of your preferences and interests? Of course!

Does all that go out the window when he sees something he thinks you could use? Unfortunately, also yes. You asked him to pick up a nice snack from the market, and he came back with cough drops. He is very sorry and will happily be the snack instead, if it's to your taste

Asra -

Doesn't struggle to speak their own love languages as much as to accept yours. Nothing scares him quite like being important to you - or knowing that it's safe to acknowledge your importance to him.

All five love languages roll off of them in waves when it comes to you, but as soon as you reciprocate - with a hug, or a favor, or a compliment, or a gift, or some time with him - he fidgets and blushes wide-eyed from the attention. Maybe it's your turn to teach them

Nadia -

On the surface, service makes sense. It's a nice way to show you that she notices enough to do something for you. But logically, doesn't it make even more sense to have someone better at it do it for her?

It's not until you need help finishing some packing after everyone's gone to bed that she actually decides to help you herself, and goodness, the maids make it look so easy! The unexpected fondness you show her, tired and frustrated and bewildered, is totally worth it

Muriel -

You'd think touch would be the hardest for him, but it's nothing compared to his difficulty with words. Before he met you he barely spoke at all and it was only to say something like "go away."

You have no idea what kind of poetry he sees in every tiny detail of you now, from the texture of your wet hair to the edges of your fingernails. Every day he finds a new thing about you he admires, but he's so out of practice that all he can come up with is "you look nice"

Portia -

Oh she's got this loving thing down - except for the part that requires empty spaces in her schedule. Not being productive when she could be busy brings her a kind of guilt she's still learning to snap out of.

If you're the one to initiate quality time, she can mentally hack her way out of the guilt by seeing it as her being a good partner to you. If she suggests a lazy afternoon in, though, be prepared to convince her not to start doing random house chores every fifteen minutes

Lucio -

Don't get him wrong, he's plenty used to touch. What he's not used to is someone wanting it outside of a one-night-stand context - especially when it's someone who knows what his hands have done

He'll seek out your touch when he needs comfort, but the first few times you could really use a hug, you can see him practically blue screen when you ask him to hold you. He'll do it because he loves you, but he didn't think to - oh wow - hey, this is kind of nice -

[prim-and-rotten]

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 girls night

pairing: (fem)yandere!bestfriend x reader

summary: during a relaxing sleepover with your best friend, you try to cancel the next in favor of a new guy.

a/n: not sure I like how I ended it but ill post it anyway. a tame one for my first

warnings: implied stalking and murder at the end

delicate fingers draw random shapes around your back. jasmine is humming softly to her playlist in the background, a private one, tailor made to suit both of your tastes. it's melodies are blurred and distant, dulled by the heavy blanket of exhaustion enveloping you.

your nights spent together always come to a close like this. Next to two emptied wine glasses sitting at her bedside table, you're now both laying on the softness of her queen sized bed. skincare done, another matching set of glossy polish sticking to your nails, dressed in warm matching pjs she bought a few days prior for the occasion, and hair put up in another heatless overnight curl hack you found online.

"are you falling asleep already?" you can hear the cheeky grin in her voice. the sun is down and the lights are dim, the clock at her bedside table reading 23:36. "It's friday, sleepyhead... i was hoping we'd stay up a little longer." with a quiet snicker, her hand is now resting flat against your back, and it takes a stupid amount of strength in you to not whine and ask her to keep going. really, how could she blame you? she always goes out of her way to make you as comfortable as possible and then acts confused when your eyelids start feeling heavy.

"what else did you have planned for tonight?" you stay still, knowing that if you get her talking and focused on something else she'll go back to aimlessly drawing shapes into your back. and she does. "i was thinking we should watch another scary movie." a sigh escapes you. "you always pick the worst, it's gonna keep me up all night." she snickers again, a bit louder this time now that she knows you're not asleep. "oh no, you'll have to spend more time with me. how terrible!". her hand is on your arm now. "come on, you know that's not what i meant."

a silent beat passes, and her comforting touch almost lulls you back to sleep. almost.

"fine. then before you sleep, let's pick out a recipe for sunday's dinner. you should come over earlier so we can make it together, it'll be fun. i'm getting tired of takeout." she's playing with your hand now, admiring her work and already thinking of what color she should paint your nails next once they start chipping.

sunday. you have your sleepovers on fridays and sundays. sometimes when your schedule allows it, you have them on saturdays too. it's something you've been doing together since high school, and while your schedule now is a little more busy due to school and your part time jobs, you still try to stay consistent with your established routine. you have to pick up your coworkers shift tomorrow, so the next one should be on sunday. wait... you changed plans for sunday. right, your date. you never told her about that. shit.

"actually, i can't do sunday.." she pauses. "why? I thought you're free," the dissatisfaction is clear in her tone. you already know how she's going to react once you tell her, but you can't come up with a lie on the spot. so with no choice left, you finally turn to her and hesitantly begin to explain.

"do you remember seth from last week?" her eyebrows furrow. you met seth after she regrettably left you unattended for a quick trip to the bathroom at the frat party you dragged her to last week, one she really, really did not want to go to. if there's one thing jas hates, it's sweaty frat boys making moves on her and worst of all you. she couldn't care less about making new girl friends either because she already has you, and in her eyes you're all she really needs.

"no." that's a lie. yes she remembers, unfortunately so. when she saw you two tucked away at a corner a little too close for comfort, she almost gagged. she walked, no, practically ran to you to drag you away from his filthy hands. what could he possibly have said to you to put that smile on your face? it's not the kind you give to her, it's cute and shy and your cheeks are red and she can't tell if it's the alcohol in your system or him who made them bloom into that pretty color. seth, whose name honestly rolls off her tongue like shit. seth, the greasy frat boy with the ugly mug. the one you're somehow actually interested in. great.

"you don't? i don't remember you drinking that much." your voice is quieter, like you're trying to tread lightly. because of course you are, she's doing a pretty terrible job at hiding her disgust, and at this realization she tries to tone it down for your sake. "yeah I don't, remind me." so you do. just in case you drop some details about the conversation you had at the party, so she doesn't have to ask outright for all the details and out herself for being obsessive. but you don't add anything new about the party, instead, you tell her you had been texting for just a few days now. he has your number. yuck.

"you've been texting and you didn't tell me?" she can feel the tension in the room now, the same room that was previously occupied by nothing but warmth and comfort. she's trying to backtrack now, putting away the face of slight disgust she had put up and replacing it with a smile of disbelief at an attempt at making you feel less guilty. she knows why you wouldn't tell her right away, this isn't the first time she's reacted to this kind of thing negatively. this is not a habit she wants you to form, so she needs to do some damage control. to make you feel comfortable with talking about your love life again. how is she supposed to protect you from these greaseballs if she doesn't know you're speaking to them in the first place?

so she brings back the playfulness that was there before. she's playing with your hand again to put you at ease, so that you hopefully start rambling about him, and luckily you do.

he approached you at the party and you found him funny so you exchanged numbers. you've been texting back and forth for the past 4 days. you think he's cute and charming. he asked you out 2 days ago, and your schedules only allowed for the date to happen on sunday. you're really looking forward to it. how unfortunate.

"isn't it a bit early? i don't really trust him." you let out a chuckle at that, "i could count the amount of people you trust in one hand." touché. "i'm just looking out for you." you sigh. "i know, but you don't have to. i can handle it." she raises an eyebrow at that, and you know exactly what she's about to say. "don't forget who was left picking up the pieces every time you got stood up. I don't mean to be a dick by bringing it up but i'm the one who's left having to take care of you, and i hate seeing you cry over the same breed of asshole over and over again." there's another beat of silence.

shes right of course, so you can't really come up with another rebuttal. "you know where to go if something happens," and you do. every last date you've gone to ended with you spending the night at her place, the one place you feel comfortable going to for anything, with puffy eyes, a box of tissues and a big headache. the conversation ends here.

it's silent again, and all you can hear is the music playing and the air conditioner whirring. it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, you've turned to your side and jasmine continues to play with your back until she hears the telltale sign of light snoring. she can't join you just yet, not until she's done with her research.

not until she knows his schedule and has a plan laid out. the guilt of being the sole reason you keep getting stood up does eat at her at times like these, because she knows it makes you insecure. what else are you supposed to think? but it's okay, because at the end of the day it's always her you come back to, and she's pretty damn good at bringing your confidence back up if she does say so herself. it's her you seek out for comfort, and if she can't have you for herself, she'll do anything to keep it that way.

[vaspider]

I have a really big question that you may not have the capacity to answer, and that's totally ok, but I thought I would try asking anyway.

How did you successfully start a business and get it to the point that you could survive/live comfortably and pay other people on it? How did you survive the psychologically damaging years of hell work while you were building it up?

Well.

To start with, I don't want to give you the impression that we're totally financially stable and have a bunch of full-time employees. We aren't, and we don't. We're still in the building and growth phase, and we're lucky to have people who can work part-time for us (in part because we pay them what we pay them per hour - there's no way they'd be able to hack it if we were paying them $10/hr or even $15/hr).

Quite honestly, I don't think we would have survived the pandemic as a business if it weren't for the fact that my wife has a stable IT job. Emet and I work on the business full-time, and Evie works full-time at her fancy IT job and works with us on events and does IT and infosec stuff for us, and then we have 2 part-time employees, Jake and Erykah.

So I'm glad that we give the impression of having it all buttoned up, but we don't, and I think that's one thing you need to know. We are ducks, friend: serene on the top of the water, paddling like hell underneath where y'all can't see it. The building phase lasts ... well, a long, long time.

I remember what it's like working for Wells Fargo, and I never want to do that again. I remember what it was like working for a mortgage processing job where we knew the company was fucking around with people's escrow accounts and we couldn't do anything meaningful about it. People anonymously reported things to the Attorneys General of various states, but nothing ever came of it. My spouse got demoted for "anonymously" reporting the fake account fuckery at Wells Fargo and I basically got run out of the company for the same thing -- they just made it so miserable for me to work there that I quit. That's part of how I survive it, honestly: I remember the alternative.

But it comes down to the fact that you really do have to desperately love what you're doing. You have to love it so much that you cannot imagine not doing it. And on the days when you might struggle to love it that much, you just have to hate the alternative a little more than you hate the hard parts of running a business.

Now that I've made art for a living -- something that my parents told me I'd never be able to do, as I'm sure most artists were told -- I can't imagine doing anything else. I keep my wacky sleep schedule, and it's fine. Right now, I'm sitting alone in the living room putting together the cotton sleep shirts/housecoats that we're launching this fall, and I'm like... really excited to be able to share these with everybody. I'm anxious about the show we have tomorrow, yeah, and I'm anxious about money and a bunch of other stuff but I'm also really excited about seeing somebody put on a brand new skirt they just bought from us and twirl. I'm excited about seeing somebody laugh when they turn a page in the patch book and see a particular patch. I'm excited about the way that people's eyes light up when Jake pulls out the Aromantic or Agender or Genderfluid patch book and they realize just how many choices we have in their kinda-rare flag.

And I'm really excited about sharing these zip-front housecoat jimmyjams with y'all.

That's how I keep doing it. I can't imagine not doing it.

Hope that helps, because that's all I've got. :)

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

They are clearly on the warpath with BRF right now. Interview, security articles, followed by yet another fake royal tour announcement. Wonder what they are temper tantruming about. It’s a bigger one than usual.

Well, let's review what happened recently.

For the BRF:

Kate made an appearance after three months' privacy and the world flipped out. Meghan makes an appearance after three months' privacy and no one gives a hoot.

William had a birthday.

William went to the Eras Tour.

William honored his father for Father's Day with a picture of him and his father. Harry (via Sussex Squad mouthpieces) flipped out that he wasn't included.

Kate made an appearance after 2-3 weeks' privacy and the world flipped out.

William got new patronages and new presidencies.

William had appearances with the King of Denmark and the King of Spain for football.

The BRF's financial reports came in. They made a boatload of money.

Charles and Camilla announced the first major foreign royal tour of their monarchy: Australia in October.

Anne was hospitalized and had to scale down her schedule for a bit because there was no one to backfill her.

Anne is representing the BRF and the UK at the Olympics.

Charles and Camilla attended the State Opening of Parliament.

The BRF had Holyrood Week and last year's photos of William and Kate made the rounds again.

William hosted a garden party with Peter, Zara and Mike, Beatrice, and Eugenie.

William played polo at Windsor Castle.

And let's recap the Sussexes:

Harry was accused of hiding and destroying evidence in his phone-hacking lawsuit.

Harry got Charles's top courtiers dragged into his phone-hacking lawsuit.

Meghan's dog biscuits and raspberry jelly were universally panned.

Meghan was trolled by the press for promoting her business while Kate was making her first public appearance in 3 months.

The Sussexes were late on paying administrative fees for their charity and it was global news.

They were not invited to Balmoral this year.

[grandlinedreams]

For my 100 followers milestone, I give you this!! Buckle up this sucker is 3.4k lmao

[heads up!: grim reaper!Law, slow burn, angst, fluff]

The day Law meets you, it's because you almost die. 

It's a cold winter day, the sun pale and bright against the gray of sky ㅡ and the iced over pond is too much of a temptation to ignore.

You're wearing a heavy coat, one that helps keep the bitter chill from your skin save for your lips and nose ㅡ how very ironic that it's your coat that almost kills you. 

Places like this are always buzzing with the energy of potential tragedy ㅡ even with the watchful eye of parents and loved ones, misfortune still has a way of happening.

The ice, for one, is far too thin to bear the weight of so many feet, made thinner in spots for what meager warmth the sun does provide.

It's one of those spots that you happen upon, located on the other end of the pond, away from your friends. The ice doesn't so much crack as dissolve, frigid water up to your knee as your balance is lost and sends you into the water entirely.

Dark and cold, water soaks your clothing quickly ㅡ including the heavy winter coat you've got around you. It drags you down,  thrashing made harder for the frozen ache of your muscles ㅡ and the cloud of bubbles that explode from your mouth as your lungs burn. 

And then there's a hand snagging into the back of your coat and hauling you up, not unlike a housecat ㅡ and you're on the frosty bank, coughing blindly until you vomit foamy pond water into the mud. 

"You shouldn't play around places like this," an unfamiliar voice tells you, striking you hard between the shoulder blades to elicit another wave of pond water and watery-eyed hacking. "You could die."

You gasp raggedly, clawing at the ground to work yourself further from the embankment, then focus on your rescuer. All you can make out is a shock of dark hair and golden eyes ㅡ and then your name, being shouted with increasing alarm. 

"You were lucky," the stranger says. "Next time, it won't be like that." 

By the time your friends have made it to you and have called for an ambulance, the stranger has vanished ㅡ leaving you with nothing but the frosty air and a brush with death.

 ㅡ

Law isn't sure why he'd saved you that winter day. He can fall back on the fact it hadn't been your time, but that doesn't account for the fact that now, he's watching you.

Call it curiosity or perhaps morbid fascination, there's a pull that drives Law towards you. It shouldn't interfere with his work, of course, because nothing ever does ㅡ but then suddenly, you do. 

He doesn't know if saving you has allowed something of a supernatural ability to rub off on you where you're aware of his presence ㅡ but the knack that you have for stepping in and messing with the intended order of things is both alarming and annoying. 

The older lady he'd been sent to collect from an unattended heart attack? Somehow, you manage to call an ambulance in time and save her life after she collapses in the middle of an aisle in the grocery store.

Then there's the guy you save from an unfortunate end via the business end of a knife following an altercation at a bar ㅡ tempers diffused and the proper authorities called, he scowls as another of his intended targets walks away. 

There are two or three more after that ㅡ and each time, he swears that you spot him, staring at him with a tiny, self-satisfied smile that drives him crazy.

He doesn't have time for this, damn it. (He actually does, but there are things that have to run on a schedule ㅡ and you're messing with the natural order.)

He needs to get rid of you. 

Cruel? Yes, especially given the fact that he's already saved you once ㅡ but he can't just let you run amok like this. He knows what will happen if he does ㅡ they'll send someone else to handle you, and he doesn't want that. 

So he ends up following you at a distance as you make your way home. Again, he thinks himself inconspicuous enough to not warrant attention ㅡ but by the third time that you turn around, he can tell that you've spotted him.

"If you're trying to stalk me, you're terrible at it. Come on out, I'm unarmed."

"I'm not trying to stalk you," he says flatly, "and telling someone that is hardly a good idea. Are you trying to get killed?"

Ironic, coming from him. 

There's that smile of yours, the one that makes Law think you're laughing at him. "Isn't that why you're here?"

He blinks. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

You roll your eyes. "I saw you, that day I almost drowned." You shift to tug your sleeve up, exposing your arm. "You left me with a souvenir."

The skin of your forearm is gnarled like the scar tissue of a burn, several shades darker than the rest ㅡ and in the shape of a hand. You pull your sleeve down. "There's one on my back, too. But ever since that day, I've been able to see the border between life and death." Your eyes lock with his. "And you."

This is bad. Very bad. Though he'd assumed you were able to see him, having you confirm it only makes this situation so much worse. If the others find out about this ㅡ 

A couple of things happen in rapid succession. The light turns green as you step off of the sidewalk onto the crossway, a car whips around the corner on a straight trajectory towards you ㅡ and Law snags his hand into the back of your shirt and yanks you back as the car breezes past where you'd just been standing. 

And for the second time, Law saves your life. 

                                ㅡ

You invite death into your apartment. 

It's a strange sentence to be sure, but death is far less imposing when it takes the shape of a man who wears a hat modeled after a snow leopard. 

"Would you like something to drink?" You're nothing if not polite, though you tip your head as you eye Law with no small amount of amusement. "Or do you need things like that?"

Law is less amused than you, golden eyes sharp as he stares. "We need to talk. This isn't a matter to be taken lightly." 

"Of course not," you say, and he watches as you pull a pitcher of water from the fridge and pour a glass, then pour a second. "Serious talk makes me thirsty, though."

Law takes the glass that you offer him, but he doesn't drink from it as he watches you cross the room to seat yourself in a battered, well-loved ottoman. He waits a moment, then seats himself on the couch when you raise an eyebrow.

"Let me get the obvious out of the way," he begins, "you shouldn't be able to see me."

You stare. "I thought we made that clear from this," you say, gesturing to your arm. When his gaze lingers, you shrug. "It doesn't hurt, if that's what you're wondering."

"I wasn't."

Your lips curve against your water glass. "You're so kind." His eyes narrow, and you sigh. "Okay, so I shouldn't be able to see you. What else should I know?"

"That what you're doing is dangerous."

You look away. "I don't know what you mean."

Law scowls. "Don't play stupid with me. You know that you're messing with the natural order of things, don't you?"

The casual way that you shrug annoys Law further. "I think everyone deserves a second chance, don't you?" 

He glares. "No. And if they did, you already used your second chance. What would you call that narrow miss with the car?"

You watch him, the upward curve of your lips that he hates so much. "I call that luck," you answer. 

ㅡ 

Corazon is waiting for him outside your apartment. He towers, a contradiction for the makeup he wears and the shroud of feathers, the lazy curl of smoke from a cigarette between his lips. (He enjoys smoking while in human form. Law has never understood, but he doesn't question it.)

"There you are." Cora turns towards him as he approaches, his eyes flicking to the apartment behind him. "Never thought you'd be one toㅡ"

"It's not like that," Law counters before Cora can make some dumb insinuation. He debates for a moment before he sighs as Cora raises an eyebrow in question.

"Then what is it like? You never interact with humans."

Law's teeth grit. This is all your fault. If you'd stop getting in his way, if he'd just let you drown ㅡ he huffs, kicking at a loose chunk of pavement before he looks up at Cora. "Fine. I'll tell you."

Whatever Cora had been expecting, what Law tells him is far from it by the way the older reaper's eyes widen. And then he laughs. Long and loud until he's doubled over, and Law scowls.

"I don't see what's so funny, Cora."

"All of that is," Cora wheezes, swinging a hand to your apartment before he wipes mirth-born tears from his eyes. "I never thought I'd see the day you had a crush on a human."

"I do not have a crush." Cora gives him a knowing look that only pisses Law off further as his eyes flash.

"Sure you don't," Cora humors him, though it's clear the older reaper doesn't believe him. Calmed down, he sucks on the cigarette, the end of it flaring before he exhales a long stream of smoke. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

This time there's some warning to Cora's tone, reminding Law that he can't get into deep, reminding him of what and who he is.

"I do."

                                 ㅡ 

Law has no idea what he's doing. 

"Have you ever been to a bar?" You're laughing at him again with that smile of yours, head propped on your arm as you drum a tempo on the table with your other hand.

Around you there's nothing but noise ㅡ tinny music playing from speakers set in the corners of the rafters, televisions broadcasting various sports ㅡ and of course, drunk people. 

"No," Law finally answers, studying the din around him with no small amount of annoyance, "I haven't." 

This time you laugh outright, then take a sip of your drink ㅡ and Law does his best not to follow the work of your throat as you swallow. "Alright then, what does death do for fun?"

There are a thousand things Law could tell you. That he's not the only reaper around, that he'd been warned not to do things like this with someone like you. That he should've let you die the several chances he's had to make it happen.

He doesn't. Instead, he lets his eyes linger on your face, trace your features, tread the dangerous water of interest as he has the last few weeks. 

"I don't know," he answers, "but it definitely isn't this."

ㅡ

There are so many ways that Law can kill you. They're everywhere that he looks, and yet he can't bring himself to do it. Instead, he lets you chatter away, lips curving despite himself.

Maybe you're not quite as annoying as he'd thought ㅡ but as his eyes drift to the plush of your lips before darting away, his brow furrows.  Not just annoying ㅡ you're dangerous.

Dangerous because you've been touched by death, dangerous because you get in his way, dangerous because all he wants is to kiss you.

It's your abrupt stop that makes Law almost collide with you and he takes a step back, lips parting to ask what the problem is ㅡ and then he stops.

"Cora," he says, feels your eyes on him as he stares at the man a few feet away from you both. 

"What a nice little jaunt," Cora says, head tilting as he watches the way you reach for Law's hand ㅡ and the way Law doesn't stop you despite the danger of it. "I think we need to have a talk. All three of us."

ㅡ 

Corazon "Cora" is a reaper.

You know that much ㅡ you can see it, the dark shroud that silhouettes him like it does with Law. 

As for what he's doing here, that remains a mystery to you. But from the way Law tenses as Cora talks to him, you can guess that it probably isn't good.

You stand nearby idly, pretending that you can't hear your own name being tossed around, mostly from Law who corrects Cora's careless usage of "that human". You have a horrible feeling that Law's getting into trouble for the last few weeks, and for before, when he'd saved you.

Why had he? Surely he hadn't had to ㅡ he could have let you drown and that be it. None of this. 

Law finally approaches you, and you watch him carefully, trying to glean what their conversation had been about by the look on his face. But his expression is carefully blank, unreadable as he reaches you. "What did he say?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about," he answers, and your eyes narrow before you pull away from him and dart towards Cora. "[Name]!"

"What did you say to him?" You demand and Cora blinks, studying you for a moment. "You guys were talking for a while, so spit it out. What did you say?"

He doesn't have to answer you. Cora knows that, that he owes you absolutely nothing ㅡ but his eyes flick to Law, who's staring at you. This is for your own good, kid. 

"I told him what would happen if he kept this up with you." He pauses to light a cigarette, and you watch the little flame waver.

"And what exactly would happen?"

Cora sighs. "If the higher ups found out about it, they'd strip him of his powers."

Your gaze doesn't waver, boring holes into him. He sort of understands Law's fascination with you ㅡ even without the touch of death, you're an odd one. "And without his powers?"

Smoke curls towards the sky, ghostly tendrils that curl before they disappear. "He'd cease to exist. Reapers are nothing without their powers."

You look back to Law, who's watching you ㅡ and your brow furrows. He wants to say this is nothing? "Is this because of me?"

Cora could lie, but he doesn't. "Yes."

Your fingers curl into fists, aware of the shiny skin of your forearm, the patch between your shoulder blades. "What if he killed me?"

"He won't. I already suggested that."

Your eyes lock with Cora's, unwavering. "What if a different reaper did?"

ㅡ 

Law doesn't like that you're talking to Cora. He doesn't like that the other reaper won't leave and let him face the repercussions of his actions as he wants to. He knows Cora has told you, can see it in the tension of your body, the way you look at him. 

When you return, Law knows something is wrong. "What did you talk about?"

Instead of answering, you wind your arms around him, pressing into him. The pressure should be comforting, but Law tenses, trying to squirm out of your grip. "[Name], answer me."

"Cora told me the truth." He stills. "Were you really just going to keep me in the dark about it?" He feels your hands fist at his back. "You're an idiot."

He knows that. He doesn't care. "What's done is done," he answers. "I'm simply facing the consequences."

"Stupid." You pull away from him and blink, and he reaches to swipe his thumb beneath your eyes. 

"Crying? Really?"

You pull away completely, scrubbing at your eyes. He expects you to call him an idiot again, demand to go home, to talk about what's next ㅡ but you don't. Instead, you exhale slowly. "I'm sorry."

Law blinks, brow furrowing. "About what?"

"This," you sweep your arm out. "You should be in trouble because of me." He wants to protest that he did it of his own volition, that you hadn't forced his hand in any of it ㅡ and then with a jolt, he realizes that Cora hasn't left.

"[Name]," Law starts, "what did you do?"

"I'm cleaning up my mess," you say firmly, "I'm not going to let you get your powers stripped because of me. So Cora and I made a deal." 

Law doesn't have to ask what kind of deal it was, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. His eyes narrow, anger and hurt clashing. "So dying is an easier solution?"

"It is," you tell him, rigid in your resolve. "It's what should have happened in the first place, Law." 

He hates this. Hates that this is how it ends, that you look so at peace with your decision. You approach him again, reaching to stroke his cheek ㅡ and he leans into your touch. "Don't be sad," you tell him, "I'm annoying, remember?"

His eyes close. "No you're not."

You huff a soft laugh. "See, you're a softie after all." You pull away, and his cheek feels colder than it ever has. "Maybe we'll meet again someday. Do this the right way."

The likelihood of that is slim, next to nothing ㅡ but Law lets himself indulge in the idea of it anyway. "Yeah," he answers, "maybe."

ㅡ

Law doesn't get to see you go.

You'd made it clear that you didn't want him to see, didn't want him to watch you die. "You spent too much time making sure I didn't," you tell him, "feels like it'd be a copout if you did it again."

He can't argue that, because he knows he would. You both do. That he'd defy his orders over and over, let you live a little longer again and again.

Maybe he shouldn't have saved you from drowning in that pond. (He's glad he did.)

Law has seen a thousand and thousands mortals die and will see thousands and thousands more, but yours is the one that actually hurts. 

Cora warned him. He warned Law, and he didn't listen ㅡ and now he's paying for it. But it'd been you who'd chosen to leave him ㅡ even though it'd been to protect him. 

Idiot, he thinks, but it lacks any bite. Much as he loathes it because it's a very human emotion, he misses you. 

(Not like he'd ever admit it.) 

"Law." He looks up to find Cora approaching, a look on his face that automatically makes him wary. "I have a gift for you."

Law's eyes narrow. "I don't want it."

Cora's head tilts, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Are you sure? Because I'm sure you'll like this one."

There's someone standing beside Cora. The dark robes draped around them says that it's a new reaper ㅡ and Law resists the urge to roll his eyes. Cora's been oddly insistent that he take on a protege ㅡ perhaps he's not been as adept at hiding how your death affected him as he thinks he's been. 

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Cora says, patting the new reaper on the shoulder before he heads back the way he'd come. Law sighs, then shifts his attention to the newbie. 

"First off, you don't need the hood up. It's a dumb stereotype." He looks away, mentally questioning if he has the energy for someone to hang off his every word.

There's a soft laugh, strangely familiar ㅡ and then an even more familiar voice. "And here I thought it gave me a mysterious charm."

Law freezes, then turns as the newbie yanks down the hood. It's you. For a second, Law thinks he's hallucinating ㅡ but you're smiling that frustrating, irritating, beautiful smile of yours.

"Surprise," you say, rocking on your heels. "This was part of the deal that Cora and I made."

"You're a reaper too," he says, and you nod before you hold your arms out and do a small spin, making the robes flare.

"What do you think? I think it suits me." Law approaches, grabs a fistful of fabric and pulls ㅡ and finally, finally, gets to kiss you the way he wants to. 

You blink dazedly when he pulls away, and he smirks. "You said that maybe we could do this the right way someday," he tells you. "I intend to hold you to that."

You smile. "Fine by me."

[that1geek06]

Hello!

Could you write something with teen!reader and the Avengers where reader got in a fight with his sibling, says something he regrets, and then the Avengers encourage him to apologize and tell reader that he's not a horrible person?

That would be awesome. If you can't, no worries! I'm excited to see what your writing style is like.

Have a good day/night

-V

AHHHH OMG YESS I love this idea, I had a big fight with my sibling not to long ago so lets see how this goes, I hope I do your daydream justice, this is my first one so I'm sorry if its absolute garbago 😭 ANYWAYS enjoyy

-SIBLING RIVALRY-

Avengers X Teen! Male! Reader (Platonic)

Warnings- Angst (I'm not entirely sure how warnings go so pls lmk if I missed one)

Y/N sat at the dining room table, the sound of the ticking clock seeming to make his nerves even more on edge then they were. He grips the roots of his hair tightly as he stared at all the study guides and previous home work assignments, hoping that it will all be engraved into his brain by this coming Monday.

He sighs heavily, finals week was always the worst especially since he has his internship on the line with these scores. Now don't get it wrong Y/N wasn't like Peter Parker, using the internship as a cover for the teen hero to help and slowly join the Avengers. No, Y/N was just a normal kid, sure he was smarter than most but he wish he could just focus on training and hacking rather than why Avogadros number was still accurate when being used in modern day chemistry.

While sitting there the front door opens, and his older sister walks in. Y/N pays no attention his head not even moving up to see who entered which he knows Nat would say is an ignorant move.

"Its nice to see you too Y/N, and thanks for asking, my day was just fantastic, how about you?" Sarah said sarcastically, standing on the other side of the table and watching with a raised brow as she waited for a response.

He mumbled a fine in response, eyes never wavering from their focus on the many papers. In which his sister scoffs, "I get your stressing about these tests but you could show a bit of respect you know."

"Please stop bothering me Sarah I'm trying to focus.." Y/N says dryly, ignoring the oldest comment.

"I would just like to actually get some attention from you, I barely see you because of our schedules and your always to busy now a days-"

"Oh my god, what is so hard to understand about the words Stop. Bothering. Me. I'm trying to focus." He snaps back, finally looking up at her with an annoyed glare. To which Sarah gives one back.

"Well sorry if I come home and I want to talk to the only family I have." Y/N scoffs at her words, "Oh so now your trying to guilt trip me."

She straightens her stance and takes a deep breath, "I just want-"

"No, just shut up, SHUT UP FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE! GODDAMN CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TRYING TO SEE I HAVE A GOOD LIFE INSTEAD OF ENDING UP WITH SOME WAITRESS JOB AND IN A SHITTY APARTMENT! I NEVER ASK YOU TO TAKE ME IN AND HONESTLY I WISH YOU NEVER DID!" He looks up and sees his sister just staring at the ground and he scoffs, "You're not even going to listen to a word I say like normal! Whatever I'm wasting my breath. I'm going to the tower where people know how to leave me alone when I'm busy."

He quickly grabs his papers, stuffing them into his bag and storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

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

Y/N finally makes it to the Avenger tower and heads straight to the elevator, using his keycard to get to the upper floors.

You see, while he wasn't a hero he was still close to the team, his talent made him stand out in the lad and Tony Stark himself took an interest and introduced him to the team. Since then he's been surprisingly close the Earth's mightiest hero's.

The elevator opens to the Avengers living area, Bucky and Steve sitting on the long couch watching an old 80s movie that was still on the list of things to catch up on.

He stomps through the room, going to the empty kitchen area and taking a seat, dropping his book bag and immediately going back to studying.

Bucky and Steve share a questioning look with each other. But before they could say anything Tony and Nat walk in, both were somehow roped into the binging with the super soldiers.

"What's up with sour face over there?" Tony teases, eating a handful of freshly popped popcorn as he takes a seat on the couch.

Steve shrugs, "He just walked in like that, we aren't sure what's wrong."

The 4 of them watch as Y/N's face slowly changes from anger to guilt. His attention seeming to not even be on his work.

Bucky pauses the show and stands, walking over to the sulking teen as the others follow. They all take a seat at the table, concerned and wondering what was the matter.

"You alright kid?" Bucky asks with a worried expression.

Y/N looks away, feeling his eyes start to water as he shook his head. "I think I screwed up, big time." He says in a wobbly voice.

Natasha gives a small encouraging smile, "I'm sure it can't be that bad, why don't you tell us, maybe something can be worked out."

The rest nod in agreement but Y/N just keeps shaking his head. "No, there's no fixing this, I...I was really stressing about my studies and my sister came home. She didn't even do anything wrong she just wanted to talk."

He takes a deep breath, voice shaking as he tries to hold in his emotion, "I wasn't thinking straight and I yelled at her. I told her to shut up, how I wanted a better life than her and I wished she didn't take me in. I didn't mean it at all...I'm such a shitty brother."

Y/N's shoulders slump as he sits there, regretting everything he did.

"Listen kid, I know you think nothing will make what you did better but she's your sister for a reason, sure you made her feel bad-" Steve hits Tony's shoulder at those words, glaring at him before he goes on, "But she'll forgive you in the end, you just have to tell her your sorry."

The 4 look at Tony in surprise and he rolls his eyes, "I get I don't a lot but is me giving this advice really that unbelievable?" Y/N smiles at that, looking at them all while thinking.

"...Do you really think she won't hate me for it?"

He asks softly. Steve smiles and puts a comforting hand on the teens shoulder. "We know she won't."

With a new sense of determination, Y/N stands and grabs his things. Swinging his bag onto his shoulder, "Then I'll go do it now." He heads to the elevator and calls it up. While waiting he looks over at the 4 Avengers, a grateful look in his eyes.

"Thank you, for the advice and everything." He says, and Natasha smirks at him, "They call us hero's for a reason." Y/N laughs, and enters the elevator, the doors slowly close as he starts heading down. Ready to make things right.

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

Bucky looks over at Tony, an angered look on his face. "So are you going to take your own advice and apologize for turning my shampoo into pink hair dye?"

Steve and Natasha starts laughing as Tony groans, "Number one it was temporary so don't get those super soldier panties of yours in a twist, and number two, I'm not apologizing for something as funny as that."

Bucky lunges at Tony who quickly jumps out of his seat and starts running. He was determined to get that apology, even if he had to squeeze it out of the cocky bastard.

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

I HOPED YOU LIKED IT, I enjoyed how it came out, let me know what you goobers thoughtt,

[katthyacinth]

Vox x Singer/Celeb Reader Headcannons

im living for all the vox and like popstar or celeb reader fics so I have a few head cannons I wanna share.

When the public finds out paparazi eats that shit up like ur telling me one of the VEES is in love now that's good television

speaking of television mans totally brings you onto his show for "interviews" but it's just so he has an excuse to talk to you during his busy schedule

Since we all agree he's is possessive he loves it when you wear his cloths out/post in them bc you're showing everyone your his. Once again the netizens eat that up

Ship name that all your fans came up with if your a singer electropop <3

watches all your shows even if he can't be there in person he hacks the stadium/ theater (whatever venue or sets) cameras

Once again absolute control freak so doesn't trust any of your staff he fired them all and replaced them with his people. Assistant fired, your driver fired and he got you a new car that has voxtech in it (he needs to know where you are so your safe and totally not bc he's a stalker) your bodyguards especially if he thinks any of them get to close for comfort.

If you act and have any love interest on set u best believe (if somehow he even lets you do the film) hes keeping eyes on them 24/7 like a hawk to make sure they ain't even looking at you a second more than they contractually have to.

Helps you get jobs with velvet sometimes bc your gorgeous and deserve to be on the runway but 180 will not let val in a 30 ft radius of you. "Yes val they're a star NOT THAT KIND"

[caesariawritesstuff]

Hostage

Summary: As Bruce Wayne's sister, that makes you the perfect hostage in Edward's plans...but you just might be smarter than he anticipated.

Content Warning: Hostage Situations, Obsession, Flirting

Word Count: 1.6k

● Ao3 ● X ● Retrospring ● Read on Ao3 ●

You were the perfect target: as the sister of Bruce Wayne, Edward had been watching you for some time. The stupid, billionaire playboy would do anything to get you back. Besides, Bruce could stand to lose a couple billion, couldn’t he? It surely wouldn’t put a dent in his massive fortune, but it’d be enough for Edward to fund his next scheme against the Batman. He sent his goons to watch you closely and study your schedule over the last few weeks, but Edward wasn’t surprised to have his suspicions confirmed: you were a spoiled brat.

His goons reported back all about your fancy lunches with stuffy-suited business men, your extravagant shopping sprees. This wouldn’t be hard. You’d be just like the rest: a screaming, crying mess, begging for your life. He wasn’t interested in killing you so much as getting his money and using you as bait for Batman, to pull the Dark Knight into his next series of conundrums. He spent several weeks planning his scheme, gathering his men, procuring weapons from Penguin. And when the time finally came, Edward’s stomach filled with excited knots. How wonderful it would look when he pulled this off and everyone looked at him like he was the most superior, greatest mind in Gotham. Which he was, of course.

Tonight, you were hosting a fundraiser at one of Gotham’s art galleries; something about the underprivileged children of Gotham, Edward didn’t care much, they weren’t his kids anyways (not like he had any, but still). The gallery was bustling with people dressed to the nines, looking every so high and mighty and pompous.

“They’re just getting settled, boss,” one of his goons said through the walkie.

“Good. Wait until I give the signal,” Edward replied. He turned his attention back to the security camera of the van they were in, which he’d hacked into the gallery’s security camera feed only minutes ago. He gripped his cane tightly, watching the guests take their seats.

Moments later, you walked up the stage and took your place at the podium. Edward couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he watched you with a close intensity, rolling his eyes. What an incredibly waste of time, these charity balls. How…pedestrian. But he waited, checking his watch, and when the hand struck eight, he grabbed his walkie.

“Now,” he said.

His goons immediately moved in. He followed them out of the van, cane in one hand, pistol in the other hand. His men stormed the gallery, guns blazing. They fired shots into the air as people screamed, ready to bolt from their seats. But his men were outnumbered and out armed. Edward strolled into the room, flashing his best, charming smile.

 “Now, now,” he said. “No one has to get hurt. But if any of you cretins move a muscle, my men won’t hesitate to shoot. So please take this as you’re only warning.” He peered around the room at the frightened faces of the fundraiser patrons, before his gaze flickered back to you.

There you were, standing in the spotlight. A glimmering, navy dressed hugged your curves nicely, something he couldn’t help but take notice of. Your hands were glued into fists at your sides, face white, lips trembling.

“Ms. Wayne,” he said, pointing his gun at you. “Come with me and no one gets hurt.”

You hesitated and looked around the room. He could just see the wheels turning in your stupid head. But…he found himself a bit taken aback. He’d expected you to run screaming by now. Instead, here you were. Holding your own.

“Very well,” you said, a bravery to your voice. He nodded to his men, who approached and grabbed your arms, yanking you down the stage steps.

“No – you can’t, Ms. Wayne—” an older man said. He was cut off as one of the goons punched him in the stomach, and he keeled over.

“Hey!” you cried. “You said if I come with you, no one gets hurt. I’m coming, aren’t I?”

Edward paused as a sly grin passed his face. “So you were listening. At least you know how to do that.”

Your nostrils flared, looking less than impressed with him. But he didn’t particualry mind or care.

“Now, take her away,” he said. People gasped around him as you were hauled out of the art gallery.

Edward nodded to the two other goons, who walked up to the center of the room and put down one of his contraptions. A little puzzle boxed addressed to Bruce Wayne. If the billionaire was smart, he’d answer the riddle correctly.

Edward smiled, resting his weight on his cane. “Oh, and if Bruce Wayne doesn’t solve my conundrums in thirty minutes, well…” He raised his brows.

The Gothamites seemed to get the hint.

Satisfied, Edward left the art gallery. As he returned to the back of the van, he found you sitting in the corner, hands and feet bound. But to his surprise, you weren’t screaming or crying. You were still, quiet, eyes searching for an escape. As soon as you spotted him, you glared.

Edward grinned. “So, my dear, can you guess why I’ve taken you hostage?”

You sighed. “The same reasons all criminals do. For money.”

“Precisely! You see, my dear, you are—”

“Bait. I know,” you replied. “Bait for Batman, because you’re going to put me in one of your traps, aren’t you?”

Edward paused. “Don’t interrupt me! I’m not finished!” he cried, scowling.

You sighed, shaking your head, and rolling your eyes. Edward found himself surprised, something he did not easily find himself. But…why weren’t you confused? Scared? Right about now, his other hostages would’ve been screaming for help. So, why weren’t you?

“Edward Nigma, right?” you asked.

“Ah, so you do know my name,” he said, flattered. Of course everyone knew his name.

“I was right in the middle of hosting a fundraiser for Gotham’s under privileged youths, and you come ruin it? I’ve been planning this for months. Do you know how many children are counting on me?”

Edward blinked, feeling the vehicle begin to rumble as it pulled away from the curb. Here you were, in the back if his getaway van…and you were more worried about the children?

“You’re seriously more worried about the children than your life?” he asked, raising his brows.

“Yes,” you answered. “And if this is about money, I can get you what you want. Just let me go and we have a deal.”

“But I…but you…” he tripped over his words. He’d never had a hostage act so calm before.

“You like games, right? How about we play one? If I get it right, I’ll give you the money and you let me go. Deal?”

Edward laughed. “Very well. Three riddles. Answer them correctly, and I’ll let you go. Ready?”

You nodded. Your lips were pursed together, your brows furrowed. The look of someone Edward knew didn’t have much going on in that empty head of yours.

“Without fingers I point, without arms I strike, without feet I run. What am I?” he asked, smirking.

“A clock,” you answered.

He frowned. “Oh. So you knew that one. Very well. Second riddle: My greatest of my strengths is that I know my worth. I hug myself so tightly at every birth. What am I?”

“A knot.”

His frown deepened, anger churning in his stomach, cheeks burning. “What falls but does not break, and what breaks but does not fall?”

“Night falls and day breaks,” you answered.

He scowled, jumping to his feet. “You’re cheating, aren’t you? Who’s helping you? Who’s giving you hints? There’s no way a spoiled, empty-headed little rich girl like you could get those correctly!”

“What? Did you think that because I’m a Wayne, that makes me stupid? Well, sorry to break it you to, Mr. Nigma, but I’m not,” you said.

You stared at him with such a level of defiance that Edward wasn’t sure what to do. His first impressions had clearly be incorrect. A simple miscalculation, that was all. It seemed you did have some shred of intelligence after all.

“Well,” he laughed. “How about that? So you can think for yourself. I suppose we do have a deal, don’t we? I expect cash.”

“That’s what we agreed to,” you said.

“But my dear, you forget: you didn’t say when or where I had to let you go,” he said, grinning.

“That’s not fair!” you cried. “Now who’s the one cheating?”

“I don’t cheat!” he cried. “I artfully obfuscate.”

You laughed, a sound out of your mouth he found himself liking. But just before he could respond, the van lurched to the left,  and he stumbled forward. The screeching of metal filled with his ears and just as he collected himself, the back door swung open, and Batman stepped into sight. Edward reached for his pistol, but before he could pull the trigger, a Batarang knocked the gun out of his hand. He gasped in pain, and looked up just in time to see Batman’s fist flying through the air – knocking him out cold.

Later, when Edward awoke, he found himself in Arkham. Once more beaten, but not broken. But as he sat in the rec room, he knew you couldn’t have gotten those riddles right…Batman had to have cheated and given you the answers. But his eyes flicked to the TV, noticing you were currently holding a press conference to announce a generous donation and funding to a children’s program all throughout Gotham. But as you spoke, he suddenly found himself completely enamored.

Perhaps you were smarter than Edward anticipated. He’d never expected you to get his riddles right, to be more concerned with the people of Gotham rather than your own predicament…but a small smile touched Edward’s lips. Oh, yes. He certainly wanted to discover more about you.

And he couldn’t wait to see you again.