#travel expense reporting

[nice-bright-colors]

Smells like (2) hours to me. After all, tomorrow’s will smell like about (4) hours.

[the-mighty-glow-cloud]

.

lol i have to pay double rent this month bc i'm moving to a new apartment and the leases overlap, and the place i'm leaving isn't prorating even though my lease ends on the 23rd, and i haven't gotten reimbursed for travel expenses because the university takes literal months to do that, so all told i have a grand total of $30 in my bank account that isn't already spoken for 😀 actually now that i think of it make that -$15 because my internet is $45 and auto processes in the middle of the month 😀 i got paid literally today and don't get paid again until the end of june

[zoot580]

After All Is Said And Done

What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever received? “No one remembers all of the hours you worked on your job but your family.” That was what a co-worker said to me during a recent conversation about the many times I sacrificed my own personal time for the sake of a job. Everything from volunteering to come in on my off days to agreeing to work 34 hours straight, giving 15 straight 2-hour…

[sunnydreadfu11]

The unfiltered, shameless racism in America and how often it just goes unchecked especially on social media is so nauseating.

[scrmnviking]

Bureaucracies run on paperwork.

Also, how much fun did Buzz have filling it out?

*Buzz Aldrin's moon travel expenses

[expensevisor12]

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[thebusinesstravel]

https://www.itilite.com/blog/travel-expense-tracking/

[psychotrenny]

I think one of Imperialism's most evil strategies is the national scale torture you'll see inflicted on countries that dare to dream of freedom. Like it's not just about overthrowing the anti-imperialist regime itself, but utterly breaking the very social, economic and in turn psychological foundations it's built upon. Prolonged periods of destruction that are as systematic as they are sadistic with the aim of making life unlivable until the government either collapses or gives in, accepting whatever concessions are forced upon them as the nation is remoulded into an dependent and obedient little neocolony.

Sometimes an imperialist power will act directly to achieve this (just take the gratuitous and deliberate destruction of civil infrastructure during the bombings of Yugoslavia and Iraq), but the preferred strategy is to employ local proxies. Groups like RENAMO in Mozambique or the Contras of Nicaragua. Bands of reactionaries, traitors and general desperadoes are gathered up, trained, armed and transported over the border at the expense of the Imperialists and their local collaborators. These armed groups have no interest in build mass support, of representing an alternative way of life. Their only purpose is destruction; killing, torturing, looting, burning whatever they can in order to bring their country to its knees. Frequently targeting important nodes in the networks that sustain the nation and the people's faith in it (bridges, rail depots, factories, hospitals and schools) but ultimately happy to attack whatever they can; every house burned or person tortured contributes to the climate of terror and corrosion of government credibility. Because when they kill these groups don't like to do it cleanly; their attacks generate countless reports immolation, disembowelment, victims hacked to pieces and left to bleed. But when possible they prefer to leave their victims alive and capable of further spreading their terror, inflicting the most vicious sorts of rape and mutilation on a mass scale

It's not just just evil for the sake of evil mind you. The cruelty has a point; human destruction to accompany the physical. Every person killed is someone who can no longer contribute to the development of the nation, while even living yet physically and psychologically broken victim places further strain on their country's increasingly fragile support systems. Meanwhile the terror of these actions spreads the impact beyond their immediate victims. The murder and torture of peasants makes the survivors too scared to go back into their fields, slowly starving the nation as the rural economy grind to a halt. The gruesome deaths of traders and travelers leaves the survivors too terrified to continue their business, shutting down the distributive networks that make national development and often life itself possible. The terror unleashed on foreign professionals can prompt the survivors to flee and discourage newcomers from arriving, depriving the underdeveloped economic and education systems of the skilled workers they need to improve or even function. And every broken body, ever broken mind, is proof of the government's weakness and ineptitude; a humiliating failure to protect their own people that demoralises supporters and empowers dissenters. The motivated sadism of these terrorist attacks is a microcosm of the motivated sadism displayed by their Imperialist backers

But why go to all this trouble? Why not just send in the paratroopers or organise a coup to end those troublesome regimes quickly? Sometimes it's a matter of possibility. As great as they are, the powers of Imperialist nations are not unlimited. All manner of constraints (domestic unrest, international condemnation which advantages dangerous rivals, the simple financial and human costs of such operations) limit what actions are viable or desirable. This is especially significant when the targets are motivated and disciplined anti-imperialists with a base of deep-rooted popular support, the sort of regime that won't go down to a simple commando raid or bribe to the right general. But sometimes, it's not enough to merely cut down a dissenting government; you have to salt the earth and make sure nothing similar ever grows back. I'll finish with the words of an anonymous Jesuit priest, talking about Nicaragua yet in terms widely relevant enough to be published in John Saul's conclusion to A Difficult Road: The Transition to Socialism in Mozambique (1985):

In Chile the Americans made a mistake. They cut off the revolution too abruptly. They killed the revolution but, as we can see from recent developments there, they didn't kill the dream. In Nicaragua, they're trying to kill the dream

[rahuratna]

Suited up

More fatherly goodness from the gentleman sorcerer, Nanami Kento. This time, featuring Ino!

Ino was excited. Not in the usual sense, when he had a mission with Nanami lined up. Today was different. Today would be the day he nailed that sweet, sweet grade one sorcerer recommendation from his mentor, the sorcerer he admired the most.

Ino had been watching, you see. He couldn't do without his own signature ski mask, as that was completely necessary for the functioning of his unique cursed technique. There were other things he had taken note of, however, that might be worth a change.

For starters, the suit. No matter where the mission, whether in the sparkling heart of Tokyo or in the depths of the most squalid sewer, Nanami would always appear in his impeccable and tasteful suit. Tailored to perfection, sitting perfectly at the wrist and ankles, comfort and flexibility reserved at no expense to the clean, fitted outline on the powerful frame they enclosed, Nanami's suits were a thing of beauty.

Then, the handkerchief. Nanami never went without. There was always a clean square of linen, folded in a perfect square, in one of his pockets. Nanami had used his handkerchief to help Ino mop blood off his face once, and, although the cloth had been ruined, Ino knew that the threadcount on that little square made it more valuable than the entirety of his baggy shirt and trousers.

Of course, there were the shoes. Nanami's sturdy leather brogues, hand sewn and always polished to high shine, saw a lot of wear. Of course they would, considering the speed and power of the sorcerer who wore them. But no matter how soiled and worn they were by the end of the mission, the care invested in their restoration was evident. Nanami would show up the next day with his shoes back in such good condition you could see your reflection in them.

Then, there was the way he wore his tie, the way he combed his hair, the coveted wristwatch. But there would be time enough to speculate on those things later. For now, Ino would be satisfied to see Nanami's reaction to his own get up.

The mission was straightforward. They had been assigned to clear out an old warehouse on the docks near the harbour. A curse infestation had been reported in the area, probably triggered by the recent wage protests the dock workers had engaged in due to cutbacks. Of course, Ino's affinity for crowd control would come in handy, and so, he had been dispatched with Nanami as a two-man team.

As he stood on the sidewalk not far from his apartment, Ino shifted from one foot to the other, still growing accustomed to the outfit he had on. As a grade two sorcerer, he earned a fair salary. He'd saved up for a month or two to splurge out on these clothes.

He had invested in a good tailor and had a dark grey suit made to fit. He wore a black polo shirt beneath and the best leather belt he could find. His socks were polyester, but comfortable enough and wouldn't slip or bunch inside his new black leather shoes. Ino had neatly combed and parted his hair, using a high hold pomade that gave a shine he wasn't sure he liked. It would prevent his hair from going haywire when he had to use his ski mask, though. And he had a handkerchief, of course. Bought cheaply in a pack of five because he'd been in a rush, but who would be looking that closely, anyway?

A dark sedan pulled up to the kerb where he waited and Ino felt a clench of nervous anticipation in his stomach. Would Nanami approve of his new look? Had he gone overboard? Did he look like some kind of copycat freakshow now? Steeling himself, Ino opened the rear door and slid inside, sending a tense greeting to the experienced sorcerer who sat beside him.

Nanami greeted him back and then stopped short. Sweating slightly, Ino kept his gaze straight ahead as Nanami's eyes travelled from his perfectly combed hair down to his new shoes. Ino coughed slightly and fidgeted with his belt.

"So ... any ideas on how we should tackle the warehouse?"

Nanami regarded him in silence for a moment, before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and tapping his fingers on his knee, as he sometimes did when he was thinking deeply about something.

"We'll approach as we usually do. I'll go in and guage the strength of the spirits before making a tactical retreat. We perform a second sweep, with you flanking me. Then we use your targeted attacks to hone in on any remaining curses that may be concealing themselves."

"Got it."

There was a short spell of silence.

"That's a fine suit you have on."

"You think so?"

Ino released a breath he had been holding, elation swelling in his chest.

"It is." Nanami paused. "Having said that, there are a few pointers I'd like to give you, as you've chosen to dress in this manner today."

"You will?"

Ino could barely contain his excitement now. Nanami nodded and folded his arms.

"Yes. For starters, have you worn those shoes before today?"

"Uh, no. Didn't want them to ... you know. Get all dusty and stuff before the mission."

"Place your feet against the seat in front of you right now and bend your toes."

"Huh?"

"Like this."

Nanami demonstrated, and Ino followed suit, slower due to his confusion.

"Leather always needs to be broken in. I've been wearing these shoes for close to a year now. And I alternate between pairs, so that I minimize wear and tear and allow the leather to rest, especially if I've been out in wet weather. If you go in as you are, the new leather will not have had time to take on the shape of your feet. You'll be in some discomfort a few hours in."

"For real?"

Balancing in his seat, the younger sorcerer hurriedly began to rock his feet back and forth against the seat in front of him, wondering how he couldn't have noticed how stiff the leather was. He could thank his lucky stars that Nanami had forewarned him.

"There's more, Ino."

"There is?"

"That pomade you have on your hair ... it's going to form stiff peaks as you perspire inside the ski mask. Next time, opt for a softer styling wax."

"Ohhh, damn. I didn't know that."

Nanami now reached across and ran his fingers along the hem of Ino's jacket, then grabbed one of his sleeves and tugged.

"Oh dang, what is it?"

"I'd also advise you to lose the jacket when you go into combat. I ask my tailor to perform a specific type of stitching that allows for more freedom of movement. You're going to need to remove the jacket if you want to move freely and effectively."

Ino's bubble of excitement was rapidly deflating. He'd wanted so badly to impress Nanami today, but all he'd succeeded in doing was showing off his inexperience and making himself look like some kind of desperate wannabe. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture, giving Nanami his signature bright smile and thumbs up. He hoped that he had somehow concealed how embarrassed he was feeling.

"Thanks Nanami. I promise I won't let you down today!"

By the end of the day, Ino was feeling a lot less chipper. Scratch that, he was feeling downright miserable.

The mission had started off promisingly. They'd found the warehouse infested with cursed spirits, some of them rather powerful. After drawing the bulk of the spirits out into the open, Nanami had retreated as planned, so that Ino could use his Reiki to shield himself from attacks and move swiftly between the raging curses.

This was where Ino's problems had started.

Due to the huge amount of cursed energy he burned through, and the highly physical nature of his technique, Ino perspired a lot in combat. His baggy clothing normally allowed ample air circulation around his body, letting him cool down faster, but the polo shirt and the thicker material of his new trousers did no such thing. 

As sweat poured down to sting his eyes, Ino was hyper aware of how the soaking material clung uncomfortably to his chest and back, how his legs felt like they were encased in a damp, restricting vice.

The leather shoes had started out comfortable enough thanks to the stretching Nanami had had him perform, but even they lost elasticity over time. Sore red ridges had been rubbed into his ankles and the area around his toes felt as if it had been chafed raw.

To add insult to injury, a vat of putrid fluid, that had been lying stagnant for God knew how long, had been upended all over Ino by one of the cursed spirits, ruining any chance he'd had of salvaging some dignity and completely ruining his outfit. Somehow, Nanami had dodged the spray of fluid and darted towards the offending spirit, ending it with a deadly, but elegant stroke of his blade. 

Ino had given it his all, of course. He'd fought with every ounce of determination he possessed, and they'd eventually decimated the spirits that infested the warehouse. At great cost to his body and dignity, of course. His muscles were screaming because of the unnatural strain he'd put them through, and his shoulder throbbed where a spirit had grabbed him and damn near dislocated it.

By the time they left the warehouse, Nanami was striding along at his usual pace, suit spotless, collar open, cufflinks gleaming, hair stylishly dishevelled, while something that looked like a veritable swamp monster hobbled along at his side, emitting feeble groans now and then.

"Ino."

"Y - Yeah?"

"Take off those shoes now."

"But - "

"Do as I say."

The shoes came off with a very distinct and soggy noise. Undaunted, Nanami reached for them and scooped them up so that they hung from the fingers of one hand. He then went down on one knee, facing away from Ino.

"Get on."

" ... what?"

"Climb on. Your can't make it all the way to the car in this condition."

"But - but I'm filthy, Nanami! I'll get this smelly shit all over your clothes!"

"Don't worry about that. The dry cleaners I frequent are excellent and ... accustomed to my requests by now."

With a great deal of reluctance, the young sorcerer climbed onto his senior's back, head flopping forward in sudden exhaustion when Nanami lifted him in piggy-back fashion. They made their way back to where the car awaited them.

"Nanami?"

"Yes?"

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"How do you manage to look like ... you know. Like you can do anything you put your mind to. And why in a suit, of all things?"

The strong shoulders beneath Ino's chin jerked in a small huff of amusement.

"I'm not sure what you mean, but I suppose experience is the best teacher. I've been on my fair share of missions. I know what to expect and plan accordingly. As to why I wear a suit, well ... "

His voice trailed off, but Ino remained silent, aware that if he stayed like this he might probably hear something that would give him greater insight into the man he admired above all others.

"Hmm. I suppose, it was something I learned when I worked as a salaryman. In society, the clothes you wear define who you are. They speak to others of your personality, your preferences, the way you want to be perceived and your standing in a certain social setting. I chose my clothes so that I would blend in. I wanted ... an ordinary life. A life that would let me pursue ordinary goals and let me retire in comfort."

"But you came back. Back to being a sorcerer, I mean."

"It wasn't that I missed this life. It wasn't that I wanted to be a sorcerer either. But my talent for working efficiently, and working hard, was best put to good use in a manner where I could help others."

"But you still kept the suit?"

"Indeed. The suit reminds me of who I am, at heart. I've never wanted more than a regular life. I never will want more. If I have to exorcise spirits looking like I used to as a salaryman, then so be it. Let the spirits experience my effort, my work ethic, my real and very ordinary self."

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of Nanami's footsteps on the damp paving stones that led to the car park. Ino gave a weak chuckle.

"Ordinary? You know, I think I can get behind that."

"You can?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty much a regular guy too. But you know, Nanami ... "

The younger man's voice trailed off, and for a moment, Nanami thought he had drifted off into an exhausted sleep. Then Ino spoke again.

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit. There's a reason I wanna be like you, more than other sorcerers. If being a run-of-the-mill guy means always choosing to put other people first, if it means choosing to do what you feel is right, and if it means ... that when you're gone, someday in the future, people will always remember the things you taught them and miss you like hell, then you wouldn't call yourself that ordinary, would you?"

Nanami was quiet for a long time after that.

Ino had never felt greater relief than when he was able to shower at Jujutsu Tech later that night, sling on a clean tracksuit and receive some treatment from Ieiri for his bruised and twisted shoulder. Feeling far more human, he made his way down to the foyer, wondering what he could have for a late-night snack.

To his surprise, Nanami was waiting for him.

"You're still here? I thought you'd have left already."

Namami held up a small bag.

"You left your jacket behind in the car."

"Ah." Ino scratched the back of his head. "Thanks. But I don't think I'll be wearing that again."

"Understandable. But, if you like, I can take you to my tailor to make some ... additions to your regular work clothes. You can still look your best, even while comfortable, you know."

Ino brightened considerably at this.

"Oh? I never thought of that."

"And I suppose you're hungry after the mission. We can go and get fried chicken and beer."

Whooping slightly, the younger sorcerer loped happily out the front doors, before stopping and glancing back at Nanami sheepishly.

"Uh, I'm kinda broke right now after splashing out on that suit ... "

"I'm paying."

"Now we're talking!"

[mybelovedfleur]

,,𝐵𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶" 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐼

(Yandere!Silco x Amnesiac!Fem!Reader)

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

!TW! FantasyAU! Heavy Yandere Themes, Silco is ooc for sure, vomiting, sick!reader, violence, mention of death, I will tag every chapter seperately! :)

Description: ,, A series of unfortunate events causes you to completely lose your memory. Now, you find yourself thrust into the role of the Duchess of Zaun, married to a man you don’t recognize. But was this ever truly your life? And why does the scent of blood cling to you, no matter where you go? "

Note: english is NOT my first language, I am very much open for critique and suggestions but pls be nice and respectful :c

Also a big ty and ily to @ink-and-dagger because DWM is the best fic on the internet and you should read it immediatelly! They're the main reason for me coming back to writing after YEARS, yes it is that good C: GO READ IT NOW OR REREAD IT IDC

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

A violent cough escaped your lips, food remains mixed with blood landed on the undoubtedly expensive silverware before you. A warm hand found its way to your back, moving in soothing circles, while you tried to catch your breath. You frowned at the mess you made, tears slowly clouding your vision.

,,I'm so sorry" you whispered in embarrassment, looking down at your weak, trembling hands.

"Don’t," Silco muttered, his brow furrowed as he wiped your face gently. "I shouldn’t have let you eat at the table. You’re too weak, my love." His tone was firm, but the action was oddly tender. It felt as though you were a child being cared for by a doting mother. But the difference was evident - you were a grown woman, and he was your husband, at least that’s what he told you.

"We're going back to bed now, that's enough stress for you today, beloved," he said without a second's hesitation, immediately picking you up and heading towards the bedroom as you whimpered in his hold. It was the first time Silco had allowed you to be anywhere beyond your bedroom or the bathroom. Sitting at the table, rather than being spoon fed by him while lying in bed felt strangely liberating, a brief moment of freedom you hadn’t realized you craved so much. 

,,It's morning" you were certain he heard your complaints, yet he chose to ignore them as he tucked you under the covers of an annoyingly comfortable bed. You felt like you had explored every nook and cranny of that room a hundred times, and stepping outside of it felt like a trip to an amusement park.

The matress beside you dipped under his weight, while his hand started to softly carress your hair

,,I'll bring you your medicine, you'll feel better then, alright?" his touch traveled over your temple, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear ,, I'll be right next to you, I'll read the reports and you'll fall asleep cuddled up to me, warm and soft" a delicate kiss landed on your head "Just like you used to"

It's been 2 weeks since you woke up. A dense fog shrouded your mind, obscuring everything. Who are you? What is your name? These seemingly simple questions only deepened the ache in your head. The pain had been unbearable then - every little movement was difficult. Your body felt exhausted and weak, as if it was pushing against the limits of its own capabilities.

It felt as though you had been dragged through hell and back—there was no other way to explain the state you were in. For the first few days, you burned with fever, teetering on the edge of consciousness, struggling to hold on to even a fleeting sense of reality.

In those brief moments when you managed to grasp even a sliver of reality around you, there was always that one hand gently touching your forehead, that one voice soothing your nerves, whispering sweet words of comfort.

You felt then as if some higher power took pity on your tormented soul, sending you an angel who became your only anchor in all this madness, his presence was like a silent ray of light piercing through the thick fog of pain. Every time his presence was felt, your whole body seemed to cry out for his touch, as if he was the only cure for the pain, the only being who could heal you. You were sure that if only you could, you would pull him to you, locking him in a strong embrace.

The reality turned out to be much more bitter than you expected.

When you first saw his face, a crushing feeling of terror ran through your body, unable to move on your own, completely at the mercy of this strange man. Your body trembled on its own with his every touch, almost trying desperately to scream for you to run away, the complete opposite of your imaginary savior. 

At first you thought it was just his appearance that made you so terrified, and you couldn't help but feel disgusted with yourself.

Yet despite his terrifying, almost inhuman eye and wounded face, the fear you felt ran deeper. It was some intangible, subconscious force that told you to stay away, as if something in his presence dangerously shook your intuition.

At first glance, you could already tell that he was an extremely elegant and wealthy man. His clothes were woven with gold and silver threads, perfectly fitting his figure, as if it was an indispensable part of him.

You were convinced that this place belonged to him. The opulence and grandeur of this bedroom made you feel almost alien, like you had no right to be there, like all this luxury didn't suit you in any way.

But the way he looked at you made you feel like you were a priceless treasure, a million times more valuable and beautiful than anything he ever owned. Only then did you begin to consider that it was the same person who had been standing by your bed all those days. His face immediately softened when he noticed you were no longer desperately trying to get away from him.

He told you everything, not taking his eyes off your face, as if he was looking for any reaction in it, as if each of your glances could reveal something he hadn't said yet. "I am Silco, Duke of Zaun, you are (Y/N), my only, dearest wife" the way he said it, as if it was a sacred thing, known to the world for centuries. He knelt down in front of your bedside, took your cold hand in his and gave it a kiss that involuntarily made everything inside you instantly quiet, your fear, the trembling of your body, the accelerated heartbeat audible in your ears, and probably your common sense.

A month ago, when your carriage was attacked by his enemies, their goal was him - but fate would have it that he wasn't with you in that moment. Against all odds, despite your wounds, you managed to escape, the only survivor. Amidst the raging storm, you wandered breathlessly through the forest, with every moment your wounds were deepening, and your strength was fading. Surely at some point you had to fall, the doctors said that the wound on the back of your head was critical.

You felt the internal pain that he must have experienced, almost spilling over to you. Every word he spoke carried pain and indescribable sadness, as if what he was telling was not only a story but also a painful memory that would not give him peace.

You sat there, legs pulled up to your chest, heart beating at an accelerated pace. Although you tried to make a sound, the words died in your throat, and the huge lump that was stuck there prevented you from saying anything. Finally, unable to contain your emotions, tears began to flow, silently running down your cheeks. 

The moment he pulled you to him and locked you in a tight embrace you were unable to resist , or tell if his embrace was a gesture of a  savior or the bonds of an executioner. 

You closed your eyes and gave yourself into his hands

You wouldn't get an answer.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

A terrible coldness took over your body, you opened your eyes the moment an icy gust of wind touched your face. You groggily sat up, to your surprise the door to Silco's office was wide open, compared to the darkness of the bedroom, a faint glow of a dancing candle flame was emerging from that room. Your feet touched the cold floorboards, and the sound of your own breathing seemed exaggeratedly loud

And it was only when the door handle was within reach of your hand that you realized you were able to move without Silco's help. Your legs no longer seemed to disobey you, standing no longer made you nauseous, and the inevitable headache disappeared.

The office was shrouded in mist, and its humidity made you slowly squint. The candle flame seemed to shimmer more and more intensely in your eyes, its light reflecting aggressively on the dark walls. Could it be smoke and not mist? Surely such a small candle couldn't do that, a fire had to start somewhere. As soon as that thought crossed your mind, you felt it,

As soon as that thought crossed your mind, you felt it - the sharp smell of burning forcefully entered your lungs. Choking, ragged breaths spasmed from your throat. As you grabbed your neck, and tried to back away to the bedroom, only a blank wall stood where the door had been, as if it had never been there.

"Ṣ̷͇͓͚̓̍a̶̭͒v̷͉̹̦̊̋̿ẻ̷̳ ̵̪͔̭̓̿͑͝ư̸̖ͅs̸̻͚̯͐" a desperate cry echoed in your ears, your eyes wandering around the room in panic. But the blinding glow of the candle flames made everything around them merge into one, as if time and space had ceased to exist.

"I̷͗͐͜t̷̢͇̪͗͆͝'̸̘̟̕s̶͈̘͝ ̶̺̞͈͓͆̒̓͘h̷̜̥̙͚̄͐̏̕ì̷̟̙͇̭̐̑̕s̶̢͖̏ ̶͇͝f̵͓͋ą̸̘͔̤͐̍̌ú̵̹̕l̵̨͎̈́̒̓́t̴͉̬͒̍.̷̡̣̭́.̵̡̯̠̋̓.̸̩̭͍͎̈́͊́͐" screams, sobs, dying breaths, desperate attempts to catch even a moment of respite. In the background, that terrifying, constant sound of burning wood, as if the world was about to fall to pieces.

"Y̴̜̎̔͛͂o̴͔̎ṵ̷̾͆̊̈r̴̟̜͚͂͌͘ ̵̢̖͙̫́̄f̵̰̚a̷͈̽͋̀͝ủ̵͙͑̕l̷̹̳̻͖̈͝ţ̸̐͋"

[trustmypoison]

SVT when their partner has a stalker

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘heya jj!! i'd like to make a request about svt's reaction to their non-idol gf having a stalker i just watched 'DOONA' and immediately got an idea and immediately got an idea to request a scenario to u, i really love how you write scenarios and all. take ur time in making it! i'm willing to wait :) advance merry christmas by the way’

A/N: No content warning because I don’t address specific situations related to stalking. But if this might be sensitive to you, proceed with caution. 

Full-time body guard - Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Woozi, Minghao

Do you like space? You won’t get any from him when he finds out about this issue. It’s a non-negotiable to report the issue to authorities (I feel that that’s the case for all of them really), but he’s still going everywhere that you are, and if he can’t be there, he’s sending someone he trusts in his place. I’m talking driving you to and from work if he can’t talk you into not going, taking you to work with him rather than leaving you at home by yourself, and if he has to travel, he’s convincing you to come with him. He’s truly daring someone to try to come near you because they won’t even get close. 

Gives you all of the protective measures he can - Jun, Hoshi, DK, Seungkwan, Chan

No expense is spared. Driver and security wherever you need to go? Check. Brand new security system at home? Check. Self-defense class that he attends with you? Check. A plethora of self-defense keychains and tools? Check. You don’t even know where he finds some of these things and he insists that you always follow these requests. He might apologize sometimes for being intense about all this, but it would genuinely be his worst nightmare if something happened to you. But he wants to balance that caution with not holding you back from living your life. 

Removes you from anything tying you to this person - Jeonghan, Joshua, Mingyu, Vernon

If you’re receiving harassing phone calls or texts, he’s changing your number. He’s asking you to private all of your accounts and clean up any followers or friends that you don’t know well, not giving a single fuck about hurting someone’s feelings. If he feels this is work-related, he’s pushing for you to switch jobs or quit. And heaven forbid there are issues with your safety at home, he’s just straight up moving you in with him. This is another group that might apologize sometimes for the intensity in which he does all of this because he couldn’t dream of controlling you. He really wants to remove any risk to you that he can. 

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎyou think there's a ghost in the mansion⋆౨ৎ fem reader x coriolanus snow

The full moon was a haunting spotlight in the sky that Coriolanus would have beamed from the very grounds of the mansion if he was able, just so you could have something so pretty outside your window every night. Tonight it was so round that he hardly needed the light in his study. Every candle could be snuffed, every light clicked off, and he would still be able to see every word in front of him clear as day.

It had been a terribly long day- reports piled on his desk like looming mountains promising nothing but work in the near future. He sighed, raking a hand through his hair tiredly. Today had been so full, bursting at the seams, that he hadn’t even been able to have dinner with you, opting to take bites of meat and potatoes in between written sentences. It was an action he wasn’t happy with, having not seen you for the length of the day, except when he’d bent to kiss your hair when he left for work in the morning. It seemed a full day had passed without him seeing you in daylight.

Coriolanus pushed back his chair, the scuff of the legs against the floor beating into his tired mind. Somewhere inside he knew he wouldn’t produce work worth a penny in this state, but stubbornly he persisted. It was coming up on a year since he was elected President, and the pressure was squeezing at him like an invisible hand.

Truly he was glad for his position, given the sheer amount of work he’d put into getting here. But there were some things he missed. Namely, the amount of time he used to be able to spend with his wife. You were the one treasure no money could buy, surpassing even the most expensive in value. In you he loved, and that outweighed anything coated in gold.

Raising both hands to his eyes, Coriolanus rubbed at them, bowing his head. Maybe after he read the next file he’d retire for the night. Would it even be worth it to make the journey back to the bedroom where you were surely sleeping peacefully at this point? Perhaps he’d make a bed of the sofa in his study and resume his work in a few hours.

There was a sharp noise, and his head jolted up just in time to catch the ornate door to his study open and shut, a blur in a little pink nightdress rushing over and crashing into him, nearly sending his chair toppling backwards. Coriolanus caught you in his arms, holding the back of your head and using the other hand to rub your back.

Any notion of work was promptly abandoned. His wife was in distress and you needed him. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” His fingers rubbed gentle circles into your back, against the silk of your soft nightdress.

“I keep hearing noises,” you murmured shakily into his neck, where your face was buried. “Coryo…I think…mm…”

“What is it?” Coriolanus frowned, adjusting you to sit on his lap, bottom situated on one thigh, legs sheathed between his. “Tell me, darling.”

“It’s silly,” you pouted, folding your arms and peering up at him adorably.

“Tell me,” he insisted. Coriolanus kept an arm wrapped around your body, using the other hand to rub your thigh soothingly. “I won’t laugh.”

Shifting on his thigh, you lowered your face to his shoulder, letting your hair fall as if a curtain over your neck. “I think this house is haunted.”

Coriolanus couldn’t help the way his eyebrows raised. Your face fell immediately like a landslide, and he could feel you drawing away. “I knew you’d think it was silly-“

“No, no,” he quickly affirmed, squeezing your waist and stroking your side. To your credit, you were half right. He did think it was a little silly, but he also knew his wife. You were smart, sharp, and you wouldn’t have come to him like this if you weren’t completely sure. So he attempted to understand. “What did you hear? Or see?”

You softened a little. “There were footsteps. Heavy ones. And I thought I saw something in the bedroom…” a tiny shudder travelled through you, and he held you to him tighter. “It was scary, Coryo.”

“Sweetheart…” Coriolanus held you right to him, letting you bury your face in his shoulder. His hand settled at the back of your head as the wheels in his head spun.

What he wouldn’t tell you was that the previous owner had passed away in this very house. That servants had whispered about spirits walking the halls. And he certainly wouldn’t tell you that he himself had heard things once or twice, even thought he’d spotted the faint outline of a whispery pale shadow in the darkened room where the man had died.

Instead, he bent, sliding one arm under your knees and lifting you up as he stood, kissing your forehead when you gasped in surprise. There wouldn’t be any sleeping on the sofa for him tonight. It had been foolish to even consider.

Coriolanus carried you all the way to your bedroom, placing you gently down as one would a flower on a grave. He straightened, beginning to strip his own clothes away until he was comfortable enough to slide beneath the sheets with you, pulling them up around your shoulders. His arms became your cradle, and he petted a hand lightly down your hair until your eyes grew heavy.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Coriolanus murmured, “I’m here. Nothing will bother my wife while I’ve got you.”

tagging @kellielovesmovies because <3

[forzalando]

FOUR oscar fics im about to be soo fed🤭🤭 and ahhh omg, okay. back hugs (from list b) + logan🥺🥺

LILLI my beloved💛 i hope you enjoy, i know the hug prompts weren't sleep related but it's almost bedtime and this is what happened hahaha also this was my interpretation of back hugs, i hope i did it justice! logan sargeant + back hugs and everything in between 500 words, mildly suggestive so 18+

“What are you doing awake so late?”

You quickly lifted your head off of your desk and yawned – awake was a bit of a stretch given that Logan’s voice woke you from accidental slumber, but to Logan if you weren’t in bed and snoring, it was considered awake.

“Trying to finish this report,” you mumbled. “They moved the due date up and I want to be able to travel with you this week.”

“Baby, you know I’d love for you to be there but not at the expense of your health,” he lightly scolded. “There are other races.”

“But it’s your home race,” you whined. “What kind of girlfriend am I if I’m not there to support you?”

“A girlfriend that has her own life and responsibilities that don’t revolve around me and I love you for it. Now, come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Five more minutes?” You pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes and lip jutted out in a pout.

“Absolutely not,” Logan laughed, shaking his head. Within seconds, he had slipped his forearms under your armpits and helped you stand up from the chair.

You expected him to let go, but he moved his arms down and snaked them around your waist, squeezing tightly as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

It didn’t take long for him to start kissing down your neck, breathing you in and sighing like a lovesick fool at the mixed scent of your body wash and shampoo – so uniquely you, you knew it drove him crazy. He started kissing lower, removing one hand from your waist to pull down the back of your shirt so he could kiss between your shoulder blades.

“Logan,” you sighed, rolling your neck to the side. “Are you trying to get me to go to sleep or jump your bones? Because your actions are firmly indicating the latter.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he coughed, leaving one final, lingering kiss to your pulse point. “You just drive me crazy. No sex, only sleep.”

“You’re no fun,” you pouted. “I’ll remember this, Sargeant.”

He squeezed his arms around your waist one last time, nuzzling his forehead into your back. The softness and closeness of him making you even more tired than you had been – there was something about him that always calmed you down, made you feel safe and warm. Crawling into bed, you immediately turned your back to him, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist again. It wasn’t often that you wanted that much contact while you fell asleep – Logan was a furnace and you hated sweating in your sleep, but tonight you longed for as much of him as you could get.

“I love you, don’t ever forget it,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I love you, don’t ever forget it.”

Within moments, you felt your eyes become impossibly heavy, the feeling of Logan’s slow breaths against your neck and his strong arms around your waist lulling you to sleep.

if you'd like to request a short blurb/drabble, please see this post!

[probablyasocialecologist]

As environmental, social and humanitarian crises escalate, the world can no longer afford two things: first, the costs of economic inequality; and second, the rich. Between 2020 and 2022, the world’s most affluent 1% of people captured nearly twice as much of the new global wealth created as did the other 99% of individuals put together, and in 2019 they emitted as much carbon dioxide as the poorest two-thirds of humanity. In the decade to 2022, the world’s billionaires more than doubled their wealth, to almost US$12 trillion. The evidence gathered by social epidemiologists, including us, shows that large differences in income are a powerful social stressor that is increasingly rendering societies dysfunctional. For example, bigger gaps between rich and poor are accompanied by higher rates of homicide and imprisonment. They also correspond to more infant mortality, obesity, drug abuse and COVID-19 deaths, as well as higher rates of teenage pregnancy and lower levels of child well-being, social mobility and public trust. The homicide rate in the United States — the most unequal Western democracy — is more than 11 times that in Norway. Imprisonment rates are ten times as high, and infant mortality and obesity rates twice as high.

[...]

Our work has shown that the amount spent on advertising as a proportion of gross domestic product is higher in countries with greater inequality. The well-publicized lifestyles of the rich promote standards and ways of living that others seek to emulate, triggering cascades of expenditure for holiday homes, swimming pools, travel, clothes and expensive cars. Oxfam reports that, on average, each of the richest 1% of people in the world produces 100 times the emissions of the average person in the poorest half of the world’s population. That is the scale of the injustice. As poorer countries raise their material standards, the rich will have to lower theirs.

[...]

The scientific evidence is stark that reducing inequality is a fundamental precondition for addressing the environmental, health and social crises the world is facing. It’s essential that policymakers act quickly to reverse decades of rising inequality and curb the highest incomes.

[carelessflower]

On Testing and Qualifying Magnus Lightwood-Bane's Sugar Daddy Behaviors - An Analysis

Multiple arguments have been made against the current High Warlock of Brooklyn, superficially regarding whether this gentleman's reputation as the current Consul of the Clave's sugar daddy is underappreciated or exaggerated. This study aims to dissect the argument with the support of textual evidence throughout the couple's appearances in the series

Paying for their first date

Taking care of the bill like a gentleman. From this instance, one can assume he takes his gentlemanly courting ritual very seriously, as he also reached for the meal cheques in other occassions

Conjuring and pelping to pick fine clothes for Alec

On their famous Europe vacation, it is shown Magnus has a habit of magicking tuxedoes, suits, and well-made sweaters for Alec. Now, if he could upgrade that GAP scarf to a Burberry one, it would be much appreciated

Gentleman behavior

Even though his boyfriend is supernaturally strong with biceps to bite for days and hunts bloodthirsty demons for a living, Magnus would still rather pay someone to carry the heavy luggage than his darling

Luxurious accommodation only

There has been a previously published study on the expenses for all these places here, so this article will be repeating the same key points:

one night at Istanbul Grand Suite on the Orient Express: $26,000

suite in Belmond Hotel Cipriani: $1,056

suite in Palazzo Manfredi, Rome: $729

It is understandably relatable when one pulls Alec Lightwood and wants to do everything in their power to woo him. For Magnus, it apparently includes never letting Alec stay in any place less than five stars

Letting Alec drive the Maserati

It costs around $10,860 to rent a red Maserati 3500 GT Vignale Spider for one day. Therefore, it speaks volumes to Magnus's affection for his boyfriend that Alec almost crashes them and the expensive car off a cliff is just a "tiny accident". It is also very likely he buys this type of car later, seeing his husband's fascination with them

Living together in Brooklyn

Months into the relationship Alec has already possessed a literal key to Magnus's home and proceeds to move in after weeks of getting back together. For other poor souls who are looking for a 3-bedroom brownstone in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, the rent would be estimated at around $5000 per month. For the Consul, it certainly would involve a different type of payment method

Alec's magically money-full pocket

The consul carrying energy bars in his duffle bag instead of using the 15000$ in his pocket guarantees the funniest mental images one could possibly imagine

Enchanting Izzy's whip for Alec's birthday

Knowing Alec's top wish is to keep his family safe, Magnus chooses to tip his boyfriend's sister's whip in a prized potion to help her on the battlefield. Loving someone to the point you want to protect what else they love

Assisting shadowhunter without payment

This element may prove to be the strongest supporter of Magnus's claim as THE sugar daddy of the shadowhunter chronicles universe title, seeing how he used to overcharge shadowhunter on their business (deservingly so), and now he is willing to do all kinds of crazy shenanigans without an ounce of money. Whoever's in charge of the Clave's budget better send Alec the biggest, freshest, most expensive fruit basket

Final note

In conclusion, this research paper does not provide a definitive answer to the argument but encourages readers to draw their own perspectives. Nevertheless, it is a great possibility that in his report, the consul stated he used 10-20 dollars each week while he was traveling across the world, going to Japan when he craved sushi and staying in the finest places, all thanks to his generous husband

tag list: @magnus-the-maqnificent @literallytypogod @hoezier-than-thou @sociallyineptbibliophile @queenlilith43

@khaleesiofalicante @wandererbyheart @raziyekroos @onetimetwotimesthreetimess @alexandergideonslightwood @andrwminward

@noah-herondale-lightwood @elettralightwood @dustandducks @deliciousdetectivestranger @delightfullyterrible

@letsgofortacos

@kita-no @thelightofthebane @secrettryst @goldendreams3 @cityofdownwardspirals

@stupidfuckindinosaur

@i-have-not-slept @rinadragomir @potato-jem @kasper-tag @cam-ryt

@banesapothecary

[cheriladycl01]

So, you lied to me? - Lando Norris x Tourist! Reader

Plot: Going on a travel year you end up in Monaco, the plan wasn't too fall for the man who helped you to the British Embassy and gave you a place to stay when someone stole everything from you ...

You took a gap year before university and decided to travel you'd started off the New Year on a flight from London, to Qatar to New Zealand. You travelled around New Zealand and Australia for the majority of January, before moving on to Papa New Guinea, Fiji and Samoa.

You then travelled round the South Asian countries, like Indonesia, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam and the Philippines and Taiwan all throughout February. You then moved onto China, doing both Disney Parks while you were there and sight seeing. You did South Korea and Japan.

Coming into April, you moved onto Sri Lanka and India, and The Middle East, doing Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Bahrian, Qatar, Oman and Saudi Arabia.

Afterwards, now having done 2 continents, you moved onto Africa, you spent the end of April and the majority of May travelling here, before leaving for Europe.

A nice 2 weeks island hopping around Greece, before a week travelling up the boot of Italy.

It was when you drove to Monaco in a rental car that things got difficult.

You were walking along the harbor where all the expensive yachts were docked wishing that one could be yours. You didn't have all your bags on you, the larger ones left behind in the hotel room you'd booked for the night. But you had your important stuff on you, like you passport, your drivers license and all your travel documents.

You were taking a picture on your nice Canon camera of the yachts and the street that had weird red corners rounding it that you put down to being measures to just help drivers slow down round the corners, but they were definitely an eyesore.

Every time nice cars drove by there was whistles and claps that made you look at what car it was, you could never tell what model it was but they looked nice and you guess you could say sporty.

As you were distracted taking your pictures a guy comes up to you with a small, parcel cutting knife in his hand. He slit the straps of what you thought was a really sturdy bag and the weight notifies you to the loss of the bag. You let your camera drop as you turn to see the guy now holding your bag and starting to run away with it.

"Hey! Stop" you shout before running after him.

"Aide, Aide" you shout as you continue to follow him, your minimal French not helping as people scold you for being a bustly tourist.

You aren't really looking where you going and you loose him at a busy intersection of people, you spin round looking at every possible direction he could have gone in.

"Shit!" you whisper to yourself quietly tears coming in your eyes. You spin round a little to quickly, bumping into someone who drops the bag that they were holding.

"Désolé, mon erreur" you try looking at the young gentleman you'd bumped into in a hoodie and jeans. He looks at you with a confused look, a smirk coming onto his face.

"Oh sorry, tu ne parles pas français? Maybe Italian, erm fuck scusa, parli italiano?" you ask with again the bare minimum of Italian you know.

"I speak perfectly good English" he smiles, laughing a little as your expression turns to shock.

"Oh! Oh I'm so stupid. Hello!" you smile looking at the very attractive man in front of you, you blushed a little looking up at him.

"You look panicked what's wrong?" he asks.

"I was tacking pictures of the harbor and some guy took my bag. It has everything in of mine and I don't know what to do" You say to him looking a little more panicked.

"Everything as in money ... because I can help with that" he says placing a hand on your arm.

"I don't care about the money, but he has all of my documents. My passport, my drivers license everything" you cry a little.

"Oh! Erm, I have a friend who was born here, and let me get him and he can help us file a police report. Then mmm the British Embassy is all the way in Paris and you cant get a flight so we'll have to drive there..." he starts to rant and your face turned shocked.

"We?" you ask, confused as to how this guy has just inserted himself into your life drama's.

"Oh yeah, I've gotta help you out now. You got that whole damsel in distress thing going on right now! Any way damsel, what's your name?" he jokes and you look over at him offended.

"I am not a damsel in distress! And Y/N" you retort.

"You so are, the tear stains, the wide, helpless eyes, the guppy fish face your pulling right now, the butchered French and Italian to a strange man who actually is British... Y/N" he laughs making you pout and push him a little.

"I don't even have a place to stay after 3pm today and I cant check in anywhere without ID" you say rubbing your head, looking around as if the man would randomly pop back up and hand you your bag back before saying how sorry he was.

"You can stay at my place, I have two spare bedrooms" he smiles and you look at him in shock.

"You live here, in Monaco ..." you ask.

"Yeah, I moved here a few years ago, for ...work" he offers, he phones his friend walking off for a few seconds alone before he pulls you along one of the side streets and too a quiet cafe he went to, to keep under wraps.

"Okay, Y/N this is my friend ... er Percy" he says pointing to Charles, so far you hadn't shown any signs of knowing who he is and he didn't want you to catch wind of that.

"Hello Percy, its nice to meet you" you smile and he looks at you with a vacant yet confused expression.

"Oh and whose this you are beautiful" you compliment looking at the girl behind him.

"Y/N this is my girlfriend Alex" Charles indicates to Alex behind him who smiles and pulls you in for a kind hug that you definitely needed. You could hear both of their strong accents as they introduced himself.

"Oh, I never got you name, what's your name?" you ask turning to look at Lando, who freezes for a second.

"Erm, my names Robert, but you can call me Bob" he smiles and you raise and eyebrow at him.

"Hmmm, you don't look like a Robert... or a Bob. Interesting choice" you voice your opinion making everyone awkwardly laugh.

Charles, Lando and Alex took you to the nearest police station in Monaco, Charles translated what they were saying and you answered to which he and Alex would help translate back.

Charles explained that they were escalating it because you are a tourist in need, but you picked up some words that made the sentence not sound like that at all.

You were asked if you had a place to say and Lando explained you'd be staying with him until everything was sorted out.

The Monegasque police got in contact with the Paris British Embassy for you, they explained that the police had sent over you information and if you wanted to hold off on a new passport for a few days to see if it would turn up you were more than welcome, but right now your passport was on lockdown.

And that was how you ended up spending the end of July and all of August with Lando, it was strange really. For a man who had and extremely nice collection of clothes and a very large apartment he didn't go to work often. There was one room you weren't allowed in which is where he often went, you assumed it was a man cave or gaming room where he played with his friends because you heard lots of shouting and aggressive banging.

He'd been so sweet, he took you on dates from going out to dinner, to picnics, to going swimming and lots more. It felt like more than a summer fling. Especially once he asked you to be his girlfriend, which you immediately said yes too.

But he got a lot more twitchy after he had.

Eventually, Lando or Bob as you knew him took you to Paris so you could get your passport. He explained that he travelled a lot for work and he would need to leave soon and you explained that before you bumped into him you'd been on a gap year travelling the world.

"Baby, why don't you come with me?" he asked randomly as you were both lying on the sofa, cuddling while watching a film.

"You wont even tell me what you do for work Baby! And besides I had a schedule that I'm already behind on. A week ago you said you didn't mind going our separate ways for a little bit until Christmas and then you'd come to England with me" you say playing with his curls.

"Okay, I'm going to be honest with you now... my name isn't Bob" he says shyly and you sit up at the speed of light turning to look at him.

"I knew it! So you lied to me?" you exclaim laughing.

"So, what's my boyfriends actual name?" you ask looking him dead in the eyes, he leans up on his elbows before sitting the full way up.

"Lando, I am Lando Norris" he smiles.

"Hmmmm, Lando... Lando. I could get used to that" you smile.

"You aren't mad?" he asks looking over you, brushing you hair back and tucking it behind your ear before kissing your cheek.

"I knew you weren't being completely honest when we first met... but I also knew you had your own reasons" you offer.

"I think its going to be easier if I just hand you my Instagram" he admits with a gulp as he hands you his phone. The first thing you notice is how many followers he had, there was around 10million and he had nearly 2,500 posts.

You look at the friends list, and one peeks your interest. Charles Leclerc, who looked exactly like Percy who Lando had introduced you too.

You then go back and look at his bio, that told you his actual job.

"So, I'm dating a super famous athlete?" you ask looking up at him away from the phone to see his head down in his hands. He turns to the side to sneak a look at your expression, his eyes a little glossy.

"To be specific, a Formula 1 driver" you ask again and he nods.

"You are such a muppet, my god" you laugh before pulling him into a hug.

"How aren't you upset with me?" he ask unsure.

"Well, I agreed to date you, because you are you. I doubt you change into Mr Hyde when you become a what was is Porsche race-car driver? I fell in love with you, not Bob, not Lando, you. So whether that is Bob, who kindly helped a crying lady on the street who just had her passport stolen from her, or Lando a cool and amazing race-car driver. Whoever you are is the person I love" you grin and he pulls you into a hug.

"So you want to join me for the last few races? Or you want to finish this world trip of yours?" he asks.

"Well, looking at your calendar, I can actually meet you at the rest of the races, While travelling. I'll continue to do Europe until you have the Netherlands, and ill go back to Italy, just for you. I'll miss Azerbaijan and Singapore because I did that, but I'll knock out some of South America, I'll meet you for Austin, then we can do Mexico and Brazil together, then we can do Vegas together! And by that point I can call it done with my trip!" you exclaim and he looks like he considers it for a second.

He's shocked, he cant remember the last time a girlfriend tried so hard to link up their schedules like this, and proved that they'd be able to work despite some potential scheduling issues.

"I love you. I fucking love you" he grins pulling you back down onto the sofa kissing all over your face making you giggle.

A/N: I've been doing a lot of Lando recently, I don't know if you can tell but I love writing about him, he's my fav to write about right now.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @viennakarma