#suspicious looking banana

[mudwerks]

"Mobana", Creme de Banana Liqueur, Turret Imports, Florida

[beannoss]

So I've been thinking about them:

Specifically I was wondering what the moment was (if there even was a specific moment) that cinched it for Twilight developing feelings for Yor.

[Spoiler warning: this post references manga chapters not yet animated]

I think for Yor it's pretty quick. Like, this moment here:

Not that Yor fell in love with Twilight then (ymmv) or that she's fully aware of her feelings, but it's explicit that she felt connected to him here and attached in meaningful ways.

But for Twilight, it wasn't so clear. For a while I'd kind of decided that it just came over him slowly (and I think there is something to that) and that there wasn't any singular moment which stood out. But that didn't feel quite right. The more I thought about it, the more I thought there were two stand-out moments, only one of which Twilight actually (semi-)clocks.

The first, which I think passes him by entirely, is this:

In my view, this laugh is an entirely authentic response. I think he is, despite himself, delighted by this woman who 1. just unexpectedly saved him from being stabbed, and 2. did it by sending the guy flying across an entire alleyway.

This is accentuated in the anime, I think, by the jaunty, puckish music that makes up the first part of their marriage theme song. I am dying for the reappearance of this music in some fashion, btw, it's so fun and cheeky and I'm hoping foreshadows their vibe after various revelations and particularly when they start working together as Agent Twilight and Thorn Princess:

The second moment for Twilight, I think, is more subtle for all it's more impactful. Or at least, the degree of its importance passed me by on initial read/watch, and I think it's deliberately downplayed by Twilight himself. Because he does actually clock it but if he looks more closely at it, well... then he might have to do something about it. And maybe that something won't comport with what the mission needs, and then what?

It happens when Twilight first bugs Yor, and then poses with Franky as SSS agents to test whether she knows Yuri is with the SSS.

It's clear in the lead up that Twilight recognises he has some feelings about/for Yor, and he doesn't want to spy on her; he doesn't want to mistrust her at all. He has to convince himself to take seriously that she may be a potential threat.

And even then, the convincing only sort of mostly works, because he hesitates again:

Which is, by the way, bananas. At this point, they've been a fake family for maybe a handful of weeks? Twilight is an experienced, accomplished spy with a finely honed and necessary sense of paranoia. Of course he should be suspicious. Her brother is an SSS agent! Canonically, the SSS are both Twilight- and SSS self-described as Twilight's greatest existential threat. It shouldn't be a question whether or not to verify Yor's knowledge here. And yet.

We all know how the rest plays out. He decides that listening in isn't enough, he needs to confront her insofar as he's able. I wrote previously about Twilight's relationship with Anya and the pivotal moment for him in how his view of his relationship with Anya changes based on Anya's (and Endo's) choices. I think a similar thing happens in this scene with Yor.

See, it would have been enough for Yor to continue to deny, continue to not call on Yuri's help, to prove she didn't know, and to put Twilight's mind at ease.

Endo takes it further.

Y'all: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WILD. It borders on levels of impulsive foolhardiness that Twilight should actually take as a negative for the person playing his wife for Operation Strix. Yor even alludes later to the problems this could cause!

The SSS are indiscriminate; if Yor was facing down actual SSS agents, first assaulting and then threatening them would 100000% land her in custody. Were it not for Yuri, it may even get her disappeared, based on how casually and frequently Yuri references having people executed. It would absolutely put the Forgers at risk, in general and in the implicitly sexist Ostanian society, because if Mrs Forger behaves this way, how does Mr Forger behave? And why can't he control his wife? The Secret Police are not known for their leniency, their modesty, their discerning, their temperateness, their mercy. They are known for the exact opposite of those things. And due to being a spy, Twilight probably knows they're actually much worse than even their public reputation.

And here's Yor saying: you can question me but if you threaten my brother or my husband, I will fucking end you. Bodily.

Of course, it's entirely in keeping with her character, and it's an entirely revealing moment of who she is. And I think this is the moment for Twilight. He's already been trusting her bit by bit, as he says above, intuitively. I'd suggest that maybe even more than that though, Yor taps into something Twilight deeply wants: backup. Someone and somewhere safe. Maybe we could describe a person fulfilling that role in an adult relationship as a partner...?

It's because he doubts his intuition (his wants, his feelings, things he shouldn't be countenancing) that we get to this point where he (overzealously) tests her.

She blows his test right out of the water.

The SSS are basically the group he fears most; this is reiterated throughout the story. He doesn't trust them specifically because of who he is and also just generally. He doesn't trust their judgment. He doesn't share their values or their priorities. He doesn't like them around. He doesn't like them looking. He doesn't like being anywhere near them. (Also, he's right.)

And here's Yor. Not only standing up to them on his behalf but actually going on active defence on his behalf.

(I pause here to note 'on his behalf' is a bit, mm, tricky, since it's actually technically on Loid's behalf and I have Thoughts and Feelings about Twilight & Identity. But for the sake of the impact of this moment on Twilight, we'll take it as writ that in this moment there's no appreciable difference between Twilight and Loid.)

I think from here on out, it's incredibly difficult for Twilight to ever doubt or distrust Yor. He perceives her as firmly in his corner, that if the chips are down — if his worst enemy and his worst fear come knocking — she'll be on his team, unflinchingly. He may not think there will be much she can do (heh.) or much she can offer given the power of the SSS and her civilian status (I reiterate: heh.), but it matters that he believes that she'll be by his side.

And you know what? He's right. She will be.

That isn't something he's had since he was a little boy. Even WISE doesn't seem to offer that to its agents, given Nightfall's thought here:

Twilight's had to rely on himself for decades and now here's this astonishing woman who will threaten the Secret Police for his sake. Of course he trusts Yor. Of course this moment widens the cracks in his barriers. And further: of course those cracks start to reach into those walls deep, deep inside that protect his heart. This is all before getting to other moments, like when he reflects on how Yor is creating a better world in ways he (thinks he) can never aspire to do himself. That she loves Anya openly, freely, with such dedication, to the point of sacrificing her own needs. That she just never gives up, she persists and persists and persists, always doing her best. That she reminds him it's okay to accept peace and to rest. That she wants and tries to take care of him... On and on and on.

Of course we get to this point:

I'm particularly taken with his body language a little later in the scene. He manages to get himself to sitting but he's still sprawled, open, even as he can't wrap his mind around what exactly is happening or why, and he's feeling vulnerable for all that. But at the same time, this is Yor. And she's safe.

In my view, if the Mole Arc hadn't happened immediately between this moment and the earlier where Yor declares herself unhappy, it would have been clearer how much stress he felt specifically due to Yor's apparent sudden unhappiness with their arrangement. The stress got subsumed (conveniently, ahem, Endo) into the stress and violence of the Mole Arc, but I think it rattled him pretty profoundly. It's also additionally why her warm greeting hit him as hard as it did: relief across multiple lines, such that he had to remind himself not to relax, despite Yor's apparent return to normal.

And there may be added layers to Twilight's reactions to Yor's bad moods due to his familial history, as pointed out by @unhappy-sometimes in this post; the inverse, of course, is that Yor's general good-naturedness would add layers to Twilight's sense of security with her. And the apparent loss of that, all the more devastating.

Rounding out the original moment though, I think this in many ways demonstrates the point:

Twilight throws away the bug. That is also wild. It isn't like that bug could only be used on Yor; it wasn't somehow modified to only respond to her person. It was a device that could be used and reused on different targets, on people who actually are worthy of being bugged, etc. But instead of pocketing it for later use, Twilight throws it away.

Actually: he not only throws it away, he crushes it first. Perhaps because he couldn't stand to have that particular device around, the device he used when he doubted Yor?

Seems kind of irrational, Twilight.

Seems kind of telling.

I mentioned my last Twilight meta about his relationship with Anya: in that, I suggest Twilight recognised entering into a compact with Anya, which subtly modifies, for him, the motivations around Strix. I think something like that happens here, too. If Yor is willing to go to such apparent extremes to protect him, he'll do his utmost to protect her.

I've had this meta in my drafts for a while, but I'm chuffed by this panel from the most recent chapter, as it kind of underscores all this by Yor's positioning of herself:

(Of course the point is there isn't a dichotomy: they'll protect each other, as indicated by Yor's if I had to choose: she won't have to choose.)

Back to Twilight, at this point, he can still justify all this as being within mission parameters. Of course he should protect Yor: she is an innocent civilian and if anything happens to her it would threaten Strix. But if/when this line is tested, if/when there comes a point where protecting Yor is actually the option that may put Strix at risk or put him somehow in opposition to WISE, then we'll see.

And more importantly, Twilight will see, too.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hiii

so idk if your requests are open but could you please write some hcs about clayton Beresford as a husband and dad

Thank youuu ❤️

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

HUSBAND/DAD!CLAY HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: of course my requests are open! I just LOVE seeing notification from my inbox, so thank you very much <3 hope you like it

MARRIAGE

Clayton Beresford who after two delightful years of your relationship proposed to you. He took you to the fancy restaurant, and since it was something you did often, you hadn't have any suspicious. But have you thought about marrying him? Of course, yet, you wanted to give him time. You knew how his earlier marriage ended so it'd be out of your character to even suggest him taking your relationship to another level. But the ring you got was out of your wildest dreams - 4 carat round cut diamond ring that seemed to shine more than every star in the sky

Clayton Beresford who got even more all-about-you after wedding. Even more love making with no care in the world, long honeymoon, even more spent time together just more everything

Clayton Beresford who, despite his demanding job, always makes time for you. He’s the type of husband who will surprise you with small gestures; like leaving sweet notes in your purse or sending you flowers (mostly to your workplace) randomly just to remind you that he’s thinking of you.

Clayton Beresford who loves planning spontaneous weekend trips to your favorite places. Whether it’s a cozy cabin in the mountains or a luxury hotel in the city, Clayton enjoys these escapes to focus solely on you without any distractions.

Clayton Beresford who's big on surprises. He might book a last-minute trip to Paris (or any place on earth), arrange for a private dinner on the rooftop of the restaurant's building or just in the place you'd not be able to pay by yourself. Or buy you that piece of jewelry you casually mentioned months ago.

Clayton Beresford who has a strong protective instinct. He always ensures you’re safe, and anyone who might pose a threat to you or your happiness would have to face his wrath.

Clayton Beresford who depended on you doing the grocery shopping since he had never done that before (however after a few times he gained knowledge);

Clay glanced away for just a second, but when he looked back, you were gone. His brow furrowed as he scanned the immediate area, stepping away from the cart to see if you had wandered behind another display. But there was no sign of you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in as he quickened his pace, determined not to lose you. Not in this place.

He began weaving through the aisles, his eyes darting around in search of you, listening intently for any sound that might be your voice. But the supermarket was huge, and the weekend crowd made it even more overwhelming.

With a groan of annoyance, Clay pressed on, moving faster now, his heart racing a little at the thought of losing you in this sea of people. Then, suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of you between rushing people. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he turned sharply toward the sound.

You were standing by the dairy section, casually chatting on the phone as you picked up items. Relief washed over him, and he silently thanked whatever forces led him to find you.

Like a lost puppy or a child who had been separated from their parent, he hurried over to you, his earlier frustration melting into a quiet sense of relief.

Reaching for a carton of milk, you sensed someone close behind you. Turning around, you found Clay standing there, his expression a mix of worry and boyish vulnerability that made you smile. It was as if he had been a little kid lost in a big mall again.

You handed him the shopping list, tapping the line where it said 'bananas' with a knowing look.

Clay accepted the list with a determined nod. He was a grown man—he could handle picking up some bananas.

But when he reached the produce section, his confidence wavered as he stared at the six different types of bananas on display, his frown deepening in confusion.

It was supposed to be a simple task: grab the bananas and return to you. Yet here he was, staring at the display like they were some exotic species he had never encountered.

He didn't recognize any of the types, and he had no clue which one you wanted. So, with a loosing sigh, he carefully picked a bunch of yellow bananas, added some mini ones, and then tossed in a few green ones for good measure. Feeling a bit more confident, he placed them all in the cart and made his way back to you. A small, proud smirk forming on his lips as he approached.

“I got them,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice as if he had just completed a great feat.

You glanced down at the cart, noticing the remarkable assortment. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at him. "Baby, but... they're all different kinds."

His smirk faded slightly as a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. He glanced at the cart, then back at you “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and a bit self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just… grabbed a few to be safe.”

Your heart melted at his effort, and you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "C'mon, we'll figure out these bananas together."

His cheeks flushed a deeper red at your affectionate gesture, and he looked down at you with warm, loving eyes, a shy smile curving his lips.

“Okay,” he murmured, feeling content as he started pushing the cart again, this time with you walking beside him.

PREGNANCY

Clayton Beresford who was shocked yet thrilled when he found out you're pregnant. He was always gentle with you but from that day he got on another level of doing everything in his power to make sure you're safe, happy and comfortable

Clayton Beresford who seemed to be hypnotized by your changing body (so obviously loved to have his hands on it, and you loved when he did)

Clayton Beresford who had to deal with your neediness for attention/affection;

"Baby, I'm already late. You know I can't stay longer," he sighs, slipping on his black cloak, the fabric rustling as he moves with familiar urgency.

"Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?" you pout, leaning against the doorframe of your mudroom

He chuckles softly and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest "Baby, I'd love nothing more than to stay," he murmurs "But…" he sighs again, the weight of responsibility heavy in his voice, "you know I can't be late twice in a row."

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his muscles firm against your softer frame. The warmth of his embrace makes you want to hold onto him just a little longer.

"But I thought you'd make love to me all morning," you tease, your voice soft and playful "and then spoil me with a big breakfast."

His eyes softened after his large hands roam over to cup your pregnant belly, his fingers gently tracing over the curve "That was the original plan," his lips formed into a knowing smirk. His hands linger on your body, as if memorizing every inch before he has to let go. "But you know I've got to go to work…"

"But what if the baby comes out while you're not here?" you pout, feeling the warmth of his knuckles as they gently trace over your swollen belly.

He chuckles softly at your worry, his lips curling into a reassuring smile. He steps back slightly, his hands slipping from your waist to admire the sight of your pregnant form. "Babe, we've talked about this. The baby's not coming today," he says with a confident grin, glancing down at your round belly before meeting your concerned gaze.

"Yeah... right," you mumble, still not entirely convinced.

He can't help but smirk at how endearingly moody you are, especially when you pout like that. With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around your chin, tilting your face up so you're looking directly into his smiling eyes. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against your lips.

"I'm gonna miss you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as the reality of his departure sinks in.

His gaze locks onto your big, sparkling eyes as he gently cups your cheeks. "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I have to go to work," he murmurs with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once more.

"I love you, you know," your voice lingering, trying to stretch out the moment just a little longer.

His smile deepens, touched by your efforts to keep him close, but he's all too aware of the ticking clock. "I love you too, more than anything. But if I don't leave now, I'll be late for a meeting with the board... and I can't afford to do that again," his tone a mix of regret and urgency as he gives you a sympathetic look, hoping you understand.

"But you're their boss," you protest softly, a pout forming on your lips.

He sighs, knowing that leaving without giving you something special will likely leave you moody for the rest of the day. Even though he’s pressed for time, he quickly pivots. "How about I give you a kiss for the road?" he suggests, a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts the mood.

"Okay," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, his hand finding its way to your cheek once more, tenderly cradling your face. He pauses, taking a moment to get lost in your sparkling blue eyes, savoring the connection before slowly closing his own and leaning in. His lips meet yours in a slow, loving kiss

Clayton Beresford who makes sure to lift up your pregnancy mood;

His heart sank at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Instantly, worry fills his eyes and he kneels beside you, his voice soft and full of concern. "Baby, what’s wrong?" He gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I feel so huge..." you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.

"Baby, you know I love every part of you. Nothing could ever change that," he says tenderly, his words full of sincerity.

But your insecurities linger, and you turn to him, searching his face. "So you think I’m huge?" you ask, misinterpreting his silence as agreement.

He sighs again, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable you are right now. Quickly, he tries to soothe your worries before they spiral. "No, no, love..." he insists, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the traces of your tears. "You’re not huge, you’re beautiful."

You glance down at your growing belly, frustration evident in your voice. "I barely fit into my pants."

He smiles softly, his gaze never leaving yours, understanding the deep-seated concerns you have about your changing body. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But that’s just because of the incredible little life you’re carrying."

"You look absolutely radiant when you’re pregnant," he adds, his words filled with admiration, careful not to say anything that might upset you further.

"Yeah?" you sniffle, your voice small and uncertain.

He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, full of love and reassurance. "Yeah, baby," he repeats softly. "You’re glowing, and you’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you, pregnant or not."

"But what if after I push the baby out, I still look pregnant? And... and I have all these marks, and my body doesn’t go back to the way it was? And you'll leave me?"

His heart aches as he listens to your fears, unable to bear hearing you doubt the body he cherishes so deeply. "No, no, no, shhh, baby, no..." he murmurs urgently, his voice soothing as he tries to calm your spiraling thoughts. "I would never, ever leave you for that. My love for you knows no limits, nothing could change that."

His hands continue to tenderly stroke your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he speaks. "I love you so much, sweetheart. The marks on your body from carrying our beautiful child—they'll only make me love you and your body even more."

"Yeah?" you sniffle, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

his eyes filled with admiration and love as he nods "Yeah, baby. Because those marks are proof of your incredible strength, of the life you’ve nurtured for nine months.. and only an absolute goddess could manage that"

Clayton Beresford who every day remaided you how beautiful you are, what a treasure you are in his life that nothing could replace

Clayton Beresford who got more cuddly with you;

"Look at that… he’s a little boxer" his lips curved up as he felt the baby’s tiny movements beneath his fingertips. His voice was filled with awe, and there was a boyish excitement in his eyes that made you smile.

"He?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced up from your book. "How do you know it’s a boy?"

He shrugged, but the cheeky grin that spread across his features betrayed the certainty in his heart. He leaned closer, letting his chin rest on your bump. His touch was gentle, almost tingly at times while his long fingers made sure to memorize the path over your swollen skin

"Father’s instincts," he whispered

"Oh? Didn’t know you had those," you chuckled, your fingers threading through his tousled curls. There was something endearing about how intensely focused he was on your belly - his brow furrowed in concentration as he searched for more signs of the baby’s movements.

Clay still kept his, this time less wider, smile over his lips. He seemed to calm down under not only your touch but the feeling of your belly with his child right in his reach and right before his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing his lips gently against your tummy. His lips lingered for a little longer, his expression changing to more surprised;

"Hush," he murmured softly, his hand stilling when he found the spot where the baby seemed to be resting. "I can sense him…"

Yet, the baby had quieted, and clay's lips formed into a pout. The frustration knitting his brows before he nuzzled to your belly "Can’t you encourage him to kick or something? I want to know that he’s alive…" he mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of concern and childish impatience (that you rarely saw before)

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnestness. "Clay, how am I supposed to encourage him? Maybe he’s sleeping."

He groaned softly, looking up at you with those soulful eyes, making it impossible not to find him utterly endearing. He looked like a grumpy child who hadn’t received the attention he thought he deserved and it was both cute and hilarious

"Well, I don’t know," he muttered, his hand still drawing small circles on your belly. "Talk to him? Tell him how cool I am… maybe he’ll be excited then and want to say hi."

You rolled your eyes playfully, still stroking his curls. "Baby, don’t be ridiculous… he's probably sleeping."

He huffed in response, still pouting but clearly knowing you were right. The baby was just asleep, and there was nothing he could do but wait. Still, the idea of his child not acknowledging his presence seemed to tug at something deep within him.

"I just want him to know that I’m here too," he mumbled

You smiled down at him, your voice soothing as you reassured him. "I bet he does, clay."

"Just imagine how cute he’s gonna be," clay mused, his voice softening as he let himself drift into the fantasy of fatherhood. "A baby version of me, running around, being a menace to everyone…"

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What if it’s a girl?"

His hand paused for a moment, the weight of the thought catching him off guard. For a few seconds, his expression was blank as he processed the idea of having a daughter. Then, slowly, his usual cocky grin reappeared, but with a touch of tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

"A baby girl," he echoed, as if trying out the words. "She could get your looks, though. I wouldn’t mind that. The second most beautiful girl in the world… and daddy’s little princess."

Just then, he felt a light flutter beneath his palm. His eyes widened in surprise, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, the pout completely erased by a wide grin "There you are…"

The baby seemed to respond to his voice, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his father’s presence. He continued to rub gently over your belly, his touch loving and protective, showering the area with soft kisses.

"Already responding to me," he whispered, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he felt the tiny movements beneath his hands. "Smart baby…"

clayton continued to soothe your belly, his hands and lips moving in a calming rhythm until the baby settled back into stillness. Even as the baby quieted, he wasn’t ready to let go. He lingered, enjoying the feeling of being close to both of you, his heart full and content.

"Guess he’s asleep again…" he said softly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Or maybe he’s just tired of you," you teased lightly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

His eyes widened in mock offense, his pout returning as he looked up at you, clearly not appreciating the joke. "Very funny," he grumbled, his frown deepening. "I am the most interesting person this baby will ever meet—"

But despite his grumbling, you could see the love and excitement in his eyes, the way he couldn’t wait to meet the little life growing inside you. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be the best father this baby could ever ask for.

Clayton Beresford who spoiled you way more during your pregnancy. More presents without occasion, more affection, more cuddles, just more everything there was to give

Clayton Beresford who was there on most of your doctor appointments. If he had a busy schedule, which happened often, he then couldn't appear (but you didn't mind, since it was just doctor appointment to check on your and the child's health, nothing more so much important for him to be there everytime)

Clayton Beresford who was obsessed with making love to you during your pregnancy;

"youre-youre so big--" you mewl underneath him

"I am, aren't I?" he panted, his hands gripping your plump hips tightly. "And you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words spurred him on, pushing deeper inside you to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

your eyes barely could keep themselves open from the sensation of having him again in your hole. Who would have known that your pregnancy hormones would make you so horny you would cry to Clayton about it. And him, being such a generous gentleman who loved his wife with all his being, how could just leave you like that? When you sobbed, begged for his touch

"Don't close your eyes," he commanded softly "Open them. Let me see the look on your face when I'm inside you."

your eyes reluctantly opened, at least they lingered between half opened and half closed. A moan rumbled through your throat as you took in the sight of his muscles that ripped whenever his hold grew too much

"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear you." Clayton's breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him. The way you moaned and your completely swollen breasts jingled with each thrust was driving him wild. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned you, picking up the pace even more.

PARENTHOOD

Clayton Beresford who was there for you for the whole childbirth. Encouraging you, giving you support, etc. He'd insist you'd hold the baby first, not him. And before he'd even hold the newborn, he'd make sure you're all safe and everything's okay;

After making sure you held the newborn first and you were all okay, he had time to take the baby close to his chest, his large, strong arms cradling the fragile newborn bundle with a tenderness that belied his powerful frame. The baby’s skin was a delicate shade of pink, still wrinkled from the birth, and Clay couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of emotion as he gazed down at the tiny life nestled against him. The baby was so small, so impossibly vulnerable, and it made something deep within him tremble and break.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he gently stroked the baby’s cheek with a trembling hand. His touch was feather-light, his fingertips barely brushing the baby’s soft, downy skin and his hand looked enormous in comparison to the baby’s minuscule features.

“He’s so small…” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His throat tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Are you crying?” you asked softly, a tired smile playing on your lips as you rested after the long and exhausting delivery

He glanced up at you and he felt a single tear escape and trail down his cheek “…No—yes… maybe…” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickly wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but it was clear that his composure was unraveling. He returned his gaze to the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he ran a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how delicate and perfect it was.

When the newborn's hand wrapped around clay's finger, he felt like his new heart might explode from overwhelming feeling. It was so cute, the baby’s grip firm and warm

“He’s holding my finger…” he murmured, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered awe

The baby continued to cling to his finger, his tiny hand gripping the large digit with a determination that was both heartwarming and humbling. Clay smiled through tears and a mixture of pride and amazement shined in his eyes as he gently caressed the baby’s hand, utterly mesmerized by the strength in such a small being.

“Such a tight grip… I’ve already created a little warrior,” he mused with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with pride. He looked down at his son, his heart brimming with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. “You’re going to be strong, just like your momma” he added, his tone filled with admiration.

“…You have your momma’s eyes, you know?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as a fresh wave of emotion washed over him. There was a hint of pride in his voice, but also something deeper, something reverent. The sight of those eyes, so familiar and yet so new, made him feel as though he was looking at a piece of you—a part of the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy.

As if sensing the weight of the moment, the baby cooed softly, his tiny body wriggling uncomfortably against the confines of the blanket. You watched the first interaction between your husband and your child and it was the most endearing thing you experience. Delivery was hard, damn it hurt like hell, as if devil himself teared your insides but as soon as the baby was out, all the pain was forgotten

“You don’t like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he gently traced soothing circles over the baby’s cheek “I don’t blame you… I’d hate being swaddled too.”

Clayton Beresford who is the kind of dad who’s always one step ahead when it comes to the safety and well-being of your children. He’s vigilant about who they spend time with and ensures they grow up in the safest environment possible.

Clayton Beresford who, despite his often serious demeanor, has a major soft spot when it comes to his children. He’s not afraid to get down on the floor and play with them, and he’ll often indulge them in things other might not—like staying up a bit past bedtime for just one more story.

Clayton Beresford who enjoys spoiling his kids, whether it’s with the latest toys, gadgets, or extravagant birthday parties. However, he’s careful to balance this with teaching them the importance of gratitude and not taking things for granted.

Clayton Beresford who, if you have a daughter, is wrapped around her little finger. He’s the type of dad who will attend tea parties, help with ballet practice, and learn how to braid hair just to make her happy;

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost finished," he murmured, his voice a soft yet deep rumble as he focused on working his fingers through the strands of your daughter's hair.

"Maybe we should just ask Mommy," she whispered, her small voice carrying a hint of doubt.

"No, no," he shook his head gently, a determined glint in his eye. "We don’t need Mommy for a braid. Daddy can do it just fine."

Clay's fingers moved clumsily but with care, tugging her hair a bit too tightly at times. His brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully looped the strands together.

"But Mommy always likes to help," she insisted, her tone hopeful.

"Daddy likes to help too," he replied, his voice tender but resolute, wanting to prove himself to his little girl.

He paused for a moment, examining his work with a critical eye. The braid was far from perfect—slightly uneven and a little messy, held together by a hairband that seemed to be doing more of the work than the braid itself. But as he looked at it, a small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"See? Not so bad, huh?"

Clayton Beresford who is big on teaching his children responsibility from a young age.

Clayton Beresford who made sure to pay attention to your kids after he came back from work. Even if he was extremely tired, he'd rather fall asleep with your baby boy in his arms than leaving you alone to deal with the children

Clayton Beresford who found you as his inspiration. You, with kids most of the time, still having energy to take care of him and the house. So, as soon as he changed his clothes after work, he replaced you in duties so you'd have your alone time.

Clayton Beresford who, if you had a son, played all the games the boy wanted. Like toys where the boy came up with some plot, plastic cars, playgrounds outside;

Clay sat on the floor, carefully stacking blocks into a tall tower while his son sat comfortably on his lap, his tiny hands occasionally reaching out to help—or hinder.

"What do you want to eat?" you asked softly from the kitchen doorway, watching the two with a fond smile.

Clay glanced up at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "You?" he teased, genuinely curious about your preference.

But before he could say more, the boy clumsily knocked over the tower with an excited shove, sending the blocks tumbling in all directions.

“Hey! You just destroyed Daddy’s masterpiece,” Clay said in mock offense, though his voice carried a warm, playful tone. He looked down at him, who was dissolving into giggles, his face scrunched up in pure joy.

"Well, I was thinking pasta... I'm really craving it," you said, your giggles mingling with theirs.

Clay's heart swelled as he watched you enjoy the moment just as much as he was. Turning back to the toddler, he gently poked his son’s side, earning more bubbly laughter from the little boy. “We don’t normally allow such behavior in the tower-building world,” he joked, his tone still light before turning his gaze to you "But pasta sounds good tho.."

With a grin, Clay stood up from the carpeted floor, scooping the boy up by his armpits and swinging him side to side, much to the toddler’s delight. "C'mon, you little silly guy, let's go help Mommy with dinner,"

Clayton Beresford who, no matter what interests or hobbies your kids have, is fully supportive. He’ll invest in lessons, equipment, or anything else they need to pursue their passions, always encouraging them to follow their dreams.

Clayton Beresford who, no matter how busy his life gets, always prioritizes family. He ensures that you and the kids know that you’re his number one priority, making time for family dinners, vacations, and just spending quality time together.

Clayton Beresford who propritazed your time together. His kids were important but you were more important. So, regularly he hired a babysitter (a trusted one), and took you out on dates (or on a vacation but then your parents took care of the children) so you could focus on each other and on the bond you share without screaming kids

Clayton Beresford ho didn't mind making you pregnant again (if you even wanted to be pregnant again);

"Fill this beautiful cunt with my seed once more?" He growled, plunging back into you with a single powerful thrust that made you both cry out in pleasure "you want that love? Be pregnant again?"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[daycourtofficial]

A Bite Sized Romance

Summary: you offer to make dinner for Azriel, but he gives you half-assed reasons as to why he can’t make it.

Author’s note: I love love love this idea it’s been floating around my head for a LONG time 💕

“Have you ever had ratatouille?” You ask Azriel, taking a bite of the dish in front of you.

Every Thursday, you and the shadowsinger go out to a different restaurant, usually in Velaris, occasionally in other courts. Seeing the shadowsinger could be difficult during the week, especially with your busy schedule, so you two set aside Thursday nights to eating dinner together.

Your brain had a hard time understanding that these were not necessarily dates, even though that is exactly what Cassian, Mor, the whole IC, and even Azriel and yourself call them.

“No, what’s rat patootie?” He says, taking a bite of his pasta.

“Ratatouille,” you correct, sighing wistfully, “it’s a traditional dish my mom used to make when I was a kid. I don’t think annyone in Velaris makes it. This dish kind of reminds me of it, but it’s not the same.”

You sit up, a smile stretching across your face. “Maybe next Thursday I’ll cook it for us. It’s so much better homemade - what do you say?”

He stills at your words, almost choking on his food. Through coughs he tells you, “surely there’s somewhere we can go for it, I wouldn’t want to trouble you with cooking.”

“But I like cooking,” you object. “And despite the copious amounts of meals we’ve shared together, I don’t think I’ve ever cooked for you.”

He doesn’t want to budge, so you pull out the big guns.

You pout your lip, making your eyes look as sad and endearing as possible, “please, Az? It reminds me of being a kid again. And I’d love to share that with you.”

Mother forsake him, he couldn’t say no to your sad, puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbles, sure he’ll figure a way out of it before Thursday comes. Perhaps he could find a way to get impaled.

You squeal, “oooh you’re going to love it!”

-

Thursday was fast approaching, and Azriel was trying to use every excuse in the book to keep this dinner from happening. He told you Rhys had to send him on a mission that night, which you immediately turned around and went to Rhys’s office and asked him to send someone else.

Rhys, having no idea what you were talking about, sees Azriel in the doorway who tells him mind to mind, “come on, say you have to send me.”

Rhys sends the equivalent of a smirk to Azriel mentally and tells you, “my mistake, I didn’t realize what day I was telling him to leave.”

Azriel stood in the doorway and gave his brother the finger from behind you.

Azriel made excuses, all ranging from Cassian needing help with training, Feyre needing an escort to the Hewn City, even to Mor needing help with the upkeep of the horses in the guard. Every excuse was denied by his so-called family, not allowing him to use them as scapegoats. It was starting to make you suspicious.

Thursday morning after Azriel’s last ditch attempt to get out of the dinner, involving some excuse about Eris needing rescuing, you sigh, exasperated.

“Okay Az, it was just an idea. Clearly you don’t want to do it, so just.. don’t bother, okay? Go save Eris from whatever it is that’s attacking him.”

You turn, wanting to leave the kitchen before Azriel sees how much this actually upsets you. “That’s not-“ he starts, trying to grab you as you pass him, but you wriggle from his grasp, disappearing into the hallway up to your bedroom.

Az was sitting on the kitchen counter, wallowing in self-pity over how poorly he handled that situation, when Cassian walked in.

“And what do you have to be so upset about, pretty boy?”

Azriel lifts his head, looking at Cassian eating a stupid banana. Gods, he wanted to throttle him. “Oh no, I’m Azriel and a beautiful woman wants to cook me dinner, even though I eat dinner with her most nights and have weekly dates with her even though I deny anyth-“

Cassian stops, taking a bite of his banana. He looks up, and realization dawns on him.

“Oh my gods,” he says, his mouth full of banana. Azriel decides to play the denial game, because surely Cassian did not figure out the secret he’s kept guarded for several months while eating a fucking banana.

Cassian looked at him, turning to look up the stairs where you had left just a few moments ago, “you two?”

Azriel rolls his eyes, “we’re friends, yes.”

Cassian rolls his eyes even harder. “I’m not an idiot. You follow her around like a pitiful puppy,” he says, coming closer to his brother, “you two eat just about every meal together, but the one day she offers to cook for you suddenly you can’t find time for her?”

Cassian narrows his eyes at Azriel, “you ashamed of her or something?”

Azriel’s eyes widen, not only at Cassian’s question that he could ever be ashamed of you, but also at Cassian’s change in demeanor.

Cassian slips into the protective big brother role when it comes to you quite easily, Azriel thinks as Cassian puffs out his chest while he strides over to stand next to Azriel.

“Now why on earth would I be ashamed of her?”

Cassian inspects Azriel for a second before asking, “then why haven’t you told her?”

He pauses, then asks, “how long have you known?”

Azriel huffs, “known what?”

“That she’s your mate.”

Azriel stills at Cassian’s words. They liked to poke fun of Cass, calling him a dumb brute, but Cassian was no fool. If any member of his family were to discover his secret, it would be Cassian.

Azriel looks at him, “a few months. I’ve been… waiting.” He sighs, “I keep wanting to tell her and then I psyche myself out. Once I tell her, things will be… different.”

Azriel hates how quiet his voice becomes as he says, “what if she is ashamed of who the mother picked for her?”

Cassian’s chest deflates, all sense of protectiveness over you gone and replaced with protectiveness over his brother.

“Then she’d be a fool.”

Looking down, Azriel watches as Cassian’s foot gently nudges his own, a silent request from Cassian for him to look up.

“There is no way she would ever be ashamed of you or be upset that you’re her mate.”

The way Cassian is looking at Azriel makes him want to shy away, but Cassian keeps his gaze steady, almost locking Azriel’s eyes into place.

“I’d be willing to bet she has journals full of doodles where she draws little hearts with your names in it, and she also writes “Mrs. Shadowsinger”

The rise in octave in his brother’s voice causes a laugh to burst out of him, but Cassian continues.

“I once tried to sit next to you for a meal and I’ve never seen anyone move as quickly as she did to claim her seat. Honestly, this will come as a shock to no one.”

Azriel looked back up at his brother to find him already looking at him, a soft gaze grazing his face.

“We’re happy for you two.”

Azriel scoffs, “I take that to mean you’ve already told Rhysand?”

Cassian starts walking away, going to pick up the remainder of his banana. “Oh yeah, we’ve had a bet for about a year now. Rhys thought the bond had snapped for her, but I knew it would be you. You’ve made me a much richer man, Az.”

Cassian bows in thanks, ducking out the door as Azriel throws a different banana towards the space he was occupying.

-

You had been sulking in your room for what felt like hours after Azriel’s latest rejection. You spent the whole time flipping between thinking about all the little moments that had you swearing there was something happening between you two, and each and every excuse he had made to get out of this dinner.

Was your cooking that bad? Was he tired of you taking up every one of his Thursday nights?

The two of you spent an absurd amount of time together - you ate most meals together at the house, you saw each other multiple times every day. Were you wrong?

A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts, but before you can respond, the door is opening and Cassian pokes his head in. He has a hand covering his eyes, but he’s made a slit between his middle and ring fingers, allowing him to still see.

“Are you decent?” He asks, looking around the room.

He sighs at seeing you dressed on your bed, pulling his hand away from his face as he walks in, closing the door behind him.

You giggled, “Cass the whole point is to not see someone naked.”

He rolled his eyes as he plopped down next to you on your bed, “you don’t even want to give me a peak? I’ve had such a hard day, a little skin would make me feel better.”

You laugh, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it. He lets you hit him, pretending to fall dramatically onto his back.

“Tell Rhys I loved him,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to die.

You laugh at his foolish antics, but Cassian continues to pretend he’s dead. You lean into him, about to poke his face, when he grabs your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder.

“Now come on, I’ve got shopping to do and I need your help.”

-

After Cassian had left, Azriel spent some time trying to decide how he could make this up to you. He didn’t want to force you into accepting a bond that you didn’t know about by presenting him with food.

He paced his room, his long legs gliding across the wooden floors making no noise. His shadows were combing through the house, trying to find out where you had gone after your earlier spat.

Azriel replaced with pacing with purposeful steps as he headed towards his bedroom door, the perfect solution coming to him.

-

“Thank you Cassian,” you say, squeezing his arm your hand was tucked into.

“For what? My incredibly charming presence?” He smirks down at you.

You scoff, “I felt awful earlier but you pulled me out of my spiraling, thanks.” You say, nudging him a bit.

Cassian had gotten you out of your room and the two of you walked around Velaris, mostly people watching and talking.

He hums, “well, both of my brothers are idiots,” he says, getting a laugh out of you. “They take turns on who holds the idiot stick. Today it’s Azriel.”

“Do you ever hold the idiot stick?”

“Occasionally, very rarely, I will pass it between the two of them, so I only have it for a moment or two.”

You snort, looking down at your feet. If Cassian thought Azriel was being stupid, does he see what you see?

You start to ask him, to prod him for more answers about Azriel, when he pats your hand, turning your attention to where the two of you had ended up on this walk.

The townhouse.

Your brows crease in confusion as Cassian removes your hand from his elbow, pats your shoulder, and tells you to have a good night.

You start to sputter, wanting to know why you’re here. He shrugs, “I don’t question my orders.” He gives you a two finger salute before turning around and walking away.

You turn back around, looking at the entrance to the townhouse, afraid of what you’ll find on the other side of the door, but going up and knocking anyway.

The door opens, but no one is there. A small shadow swirls around you, moving up from your feet to your face, caressing your cheek before zipping off to the kitchen.

You step through the threshold and a new shadow comes and shuts the door, another two come and help you take your coat off and hang it up for you.

You walk towards the kitchen, where you can hear the clattering of plates and some delicious aromas filling the whole house. Inside the kitchen you find Azriel, with a frilly apron tied around his waist, putting the finishing touches on two plates at the table.

“What’s all this?” You ask him, doubt creeping in that this isn’t meant for you.

“Sit, sit,” he beckons, pulling out a chair for you. You look around the room, covered in flickering candlelight and flowers. He must have been working on this for hours.

You look down at your plate, the bright colors of ratatouille catching your eye. You gasp, wanting to know how much effort he went to find a recipe for it.

He takes off the apron, sitting across from you.

“I… made an ass of myself, and I’d like to apologize first and foremost for that.” You open your mouth to interrupt him, but he holds up a hand. “Let me finish, I have.. a lot to tell you.”

He takes a deep breath, stilling his nerves. You look so pretty in the glow of the candles, and the slight concern you’ll hate him is enough to distract him, but he has to tell you this.

“There’s a reason I didn’t want you to cook for me. A few months ago we were in the library, reading, and I looked up and I watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, laughing at something in your book and I.. felt it.”

You’re in a trance, listening to him speak.

“I felt like I was dying and coming back to life, like your hand was wrapped around my heart, squeezing in time, keeping it beating. I made up some half-assed excuse to leave, because I needed to talk to Rhys.”

You looked at him, hoping your gaze would encourage him to continue.

“Rhys confirmed what I thought it was - the bond snapping. And I was terrified.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I was terrified if I told you, you’d deny the bond, you’d break my heart. So I… put off telling you. I couldn’t.”

He looks down at his lap, fidgeting his fingers.

“I kept trying to tell you, then I’d chicken out. Then when you offered to cook for me, I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let you accidentally accept the bond, accept me without knowing about it.”

He sighs, “I felt awful when I realized you thought I was rejecting you. Far from it. So I’ve uh.. made you dinner.”

You finally speak, “you made me dinner.”

“I made you dinner. And dessert, actually.”

Leave it to Azriel to outdo himself by finding the time to make dessert.

You weren’t letting a single emotion show on your face, and it made a shiver run up Azriel’s spine.

After what could have been hours, you slowly smiled, looking at him, “what kind of dessert did you make?”

He pauses, “I uh made you- us, uh chocolate mousse. I made two, but I thought we could share one.”

He looks at you, still not giving anything away, “if you want to, of course.”

He shifts, your silence making him uneasy.

“If you don’t want to accept it, I understand. I kept it from you, and I’m me, loving me would be rotten work- what are you doing?”

In the middle of his rambling, you picked up your fork, getting a nice helping of food on your fork, bringing it up to your mouth.

“Well, my mate made me dinner, and it looks incredible. Why would I not want to take a bite?”

He looks at you, a rush of emotions flooding him. Surprise, confusion, elation.

“But, but I can promise you to love me, to be my mate, it’s rotten work.”

You smile, “not to me it’s not.”

You pause, “not if it’s you,” and take a bite.

His chest sings, feeling warmth radiating throughout him. Feeling love radiate through him, and he realizes that’s you.

You keep eating the food, that hum getting louder and more vibrant, until you’ve cleared your plate, and stride over to him.

You grab his face in your hands, tilting his head so he’ll look into your eyes. “If you think I am not aware of who you are, what you do, your darkest parts, you are mistaken. And if you think I will shy away from those things, you are a fool.”

He hadn’t realized he was crying until you swiped your thumb across his cheek, swiping it away.

You smile down at him, and he has never felt so loved, so whole as he does in this moment. His mate, the one person the cauldron deemed would understand him, just chose him.

He feels like that little boy, looked in the dungeon, daydreaming about being saved by an angel. And he has.

He stands up, cupping your face in his hands, “I was in love with you before the bond snapped for me. I’m not here just because the cauldron told me to be, let me assure you that.”

You smile, a heat creeping up your cheeks. “I’m only here for the chocolate mousse.”

He laughs, a genuine, roaring laugh.

You pull his face in close to yours, gazing into his eyes. “And I have been in love with you since the day after I met you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “the day after?”

You smile, “well I thought I was in love with you that first day, but then on that second day I heard you speak, and I knew no one would ever compare.”

You feel his happiness in your chest, as if his heart is also in your ribcage, yours and his intertwined, dancing through your chest together.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his mouth so close to your own your breaths are intermingling.

You smile at his thoughtfulness, his hesitation.

“Only if you promise to never stop.”

[kodaswrld]

alternatives to pacis!!!

pacis can be hard to get, for various reasons!! whether you live with somebody, don't have enough money or any other reason, mama koda is here to help you!! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ´-

here are some alternatives!!

🪷 - ring pops!! they're not only really yummy, but perfect to act as a paci!! they already have a very similar shape!!

🪷 - a sippy cup or a cup/water bottle with a straw!! silicone straws are good to chew on, and you can find water bottles or just the straw anywhere!!

🪷 - chewelry!! it's jewelry you can chew on!! there are many online shops in which you can buy them from, and they look really cute!!

🪷 - frozen fruits, such as frozen bananas, mango, pineapples, etc can be really helpful!! super yummy and healthy too!!! 

🪷 - baby food!! baby food that you can buy in little packets are often a good alternative to suck on. to limit suspicion from anybody who might see it, you can buy the fruit ones which are similar to a milkshake

🪷 - yogurt tubes are a bit cheaper than baby food and is less suspicious!! and plus, who doesn't like yogurt?

i hope these alternatives help you!! thank you for reading, little one and enjoy your day!!

reposted blog ~ credits

[slenbee]

List of Current Scammers - Part 3

Created: 12/11/24 - Updated: 12/24/24

Disclaimer: This list is only meant to serve as documentation and reference material so that others know: what to look out for in regards to a scam, and who to block preemptively if you so choose. I do not, in any way, endorse harassment or mass reporting these users. Do NOT do this. I'm serious. DO NOT mass report. Only report these asks if you GET them or ones like them. Thank you.

Part 1 and part 2 will now serve as an archive for reference material and will no longer be updated with current/active scam accounts. Any new account will be posted here, and if it links to a scammer previously mentioned evidence will be provided from that scam list.

----------

index:

> means a name change. (banana (changed to) mango)

+ means multiple (active) accounts running the same scam.

Previously: means this account is running a scam previously used by an account listed on Part 1 or Part 2 of the scam list.

Recently: means this scam was seen on recently banned account.

(banned) blogs will remain until a new one shows up and then it will be moved to the Recently: category.

Evidence:

Evidence linked will be mostly in the form of call out posts that can be found by searching an accounts username on tumblr. If you are suspicious of an ask you receive, I suggest you please do the bare minimum and search their username on tumblr to see if they've been reported by other users to be a scam.

Reasons why all of these blogs listed here are scams:

Those saying they are 'vetted/verified' will not say by who.

Those saying they 'live(d) in Gaza' know nothing about it.

Those saying they are diabetic have no idea how diabetes works.

Their PayPal.me name are used by other scam accounts.

They use stolen stories/images (if searched via google).

They use multiple blogs to run the same scam.

They will reuse the same story word for word from past accounts.

They will block you if you try and ask questions. Go on. Do it.

They really like changing their 'real name(s). like, a lot.

Their accounts are only a few days/weeks/1-4 months old.

They reblog 5-10 things irreverent things then stop.

The list of evidence goes on and on.

If you have doubts, read the message at the bottom of this post.

----------

Part 1 - Scammers pretending to be Palestinian

Note: Please refer to Part 1 of the scammer list for more information.

Here is a comprehensive guide on how to spot these scams.

----------

Insulin or diabetes Scams A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts asking for donations regarding insulin or diabetes care.

sitatimohamed1 (banned) Previously: sitatimohamed (part 1) No PayPal link yet but probably soon. Evidence it's a scam: here and here sappotviviandiabetiicpatient Recently: veemiraclettastemaker + fulltragedysupportme "diagnosed with Latent Autoimmune Diabetes at a tender age" Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here furiousdreamertimemachine Recently: furryhideoutlight + unlikelycreationqueen + fancytacowonderland Previously: furryreviewearthquake (part 1) "My family is still staying in half of the church" Asks for PayPal. Evidence that it's a scam: here and here mysterioussickenessdiabiatese (banned) Previously: gaza-diabetes-childrenhelp (part 1) Asks for PayPal. Evidence that it's a scam: here foggyhottubpost (banned) Previously: foggyruinspost + foggyruinsblog (part 1) Notes: PayPal name Mercy Siomi is used by other scam accounts. Asks for PayPal. Evidence that it's a scam: here

----------

Evacuation Donation Scams Accounts asking for money to move from one place to another.

maximumtriumphmagazine (banned) Stole images from a real artist. Artist confirmed not related. Uses a fake gofundme for asking donations. Evidence it's a scam: here abdullahwahhab (banned) Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here

Medical Donations - A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts asking for money for cancer or another medical condition.

superbballoonsalad (banned) Stolen images. Was previously cherylbieryl. Asks for PayPal. (has since deleted their post) Evidence it's a scam: here

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Part 2 - Non Palestinian related scams

Note: Please refer to Part 2 of the scammer list for more information.

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Pet donation Scams - A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts requesting money to help a sick pet/animal.

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Medical Donations - A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts asking for money for cancer or another medical condition.

furrybouquetdonut (banned) Recently: radhideoutsublime Previously: foggybouquetsublime (see Part 2) 'I have stage 2A cervical Cancer' Notes: PayPal name Esta Odhiambo is/was used by other accounts. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here sublimenerddragon (banned) Previously: sublimedestinybird (see Part 2) "My nose freezes." Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here differentladyfest (banned) Recently: monicahqueen 'I had stage 4 Laryngeal Cancer, voicebox removed.' Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here

----------

Diabetes / Insulin scams - A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts asking for donations regarding insulin or diabetes care.

jovialnightcat + nuttykittenglitter Recently: scentedtacomaker + generouscandycreator Previously: sostudentbarbarian / alfayothesoftwareaudit / purplecatshark (see Part 2) Notes: Uses the same picture on every blog of the girl with the cgm and blood in/on an IV that's in her arm. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here and here universallyturtlepersona (banned) Recently: darkbirdbasement + slowlynuttyqueen Previously: steadybluebirdpizza (see Part 2) Has used many multiple accounts. (vero-og) Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here numberonetimemachinebouquet Recently: severedazepanda spmwitaa humongousfoxbasement Previously: ssmwitaa (see Part 2) Art thief. Has no idea how insulin works. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here jessieblogsposts (banned) Notes: The name Diana Achieng is used by other scam accounts. Images and story stolen from a gofundme. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: the gofundme (2020)

----------

If you have any doubts about the validity of this post:

I would not, nor would I ever, willingly or knowingly put someone on this list if I knew 100%, without a doubt, that they were a real, genuine person looking for help.

I (personally) have spent hours of my time gathering evidence in the form of searching names, copy/pasting things over and over into tumblr and google just to try and find different blogs, taking screenshots and making collages in photoshop, writing down and making entire in depth posts about how and why a blog is or isn't running a scam.

And I'm not the only one who does this.

Scam buster blogs, helpful users/anons, and many others, have been looking into and tracking these scammers for months.

These are not individuals we just saw on tumblr and decided to pick on for shits and giggles.

They are scammers.

They don't care about whose story they use or whose pictures they stole. They don't care how it effects someone or what lives they ruin.

All they care about is money.

So, remember to report their PayPal accounts if you can please. :)

Thank you and have a good day. <3

Helpful guides on how to spot scams. (by @kyra45) Important tips and tricks on spotting scams.

[im-a-silly-willy]

alternatives to pacis!!!

pacis can be hard to get, for various reasons!! whether you live with somebody, don't have enough money or any other reason, i'm here to help you!! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

here are some alternatives!!

🌷- ring pops!! they're not only really yummy, but perfect to act as a paci!! they already have a very similar shape!!

🌷- a sippy cup or a cup/water bottle with a straw!! silicone straws are good to chew on, and you can find water bottles or just the straw anywhere!!

🌷- chewelry!! it's jewelry you can chew on!! there are many online shops in which you can buy them from, and they look really cute!!

🌷- frozen fruits, such as frozen bananas, mango, pineapples, etc can be really helpful!! super yummy and healthy too!!!

🌷- baby food!! baby food that you can buy in little packets are often a good alternative to suck on. to limit suspicion from anybody who might see it, you can buy the fruit ones which are similar to a milkshake

🌷- yoghurt tubes are a bit cheaper than baby food and is less suspicious!! and plus, who doesn't like yoghurt?

i hope these alternatives help you!! thank you for reading, little one and enjoy your day!!

[bellaaae]

Finding out you’re skipping meals

Minji

The first time you skipped dinner she thought maybe you were just in a bad mood and probably didn’t want to eat anything.

It continued to go for a few days, Minji knew at that point it was no longer because of being in a bad mood.

As you were about to skip dinner again Minji stopped you from going anywhere and sat you back on the chair.

“No you’re not skipping dinner this time, now open your mouth” she commanded already turned full mom mode.

Hanni

She didn’t think much of it when she noticed you eating just a banana for lunch.

Later she saw that you were just watching them eat and not having food on your table.

She shrugged it off and thought. “She probably ate before dinner”.

It continued for a while and Hanni was getting more and more suspicious of you.

She caught you eating banana again for breakfast.

Before you could put it into your mouth she snatched it and placed a bowl of cereal infront of you.

“No you’re not eating a banana for breakfast and rather a proper meal” she sternly said.

You pouted nodding in defeat.

Hanni smiled brightly at you. “That’s a good girl” she exclaimed.

Danielle

Being the considerate and sweet Unnie she is she decided not to scold you once she found out you’ve been skipping meals for the past week.

She thought maybe you were going through things you might not want to share.

So she pampered you and told you not to do it again.

Taking you to a convenience store telling you to buy as many snacks and food as you want.

Haerin

“YN-nie open your mouth” Haerin said pushing the chopstick with sushi placed in between it.

You shook your head closing your mouth.

Haerin furrowed her eyebrows because of the younger girls action.

“Why don’t you want to eat?” She placed the sushi back down.

“I’m on a diet” you smiled slightly.

“Diet?” She snickered. “Diet my ass, you’re not following any diet and you’re eating this food right now” she placed it towards your mouth.

“Now open up!” She instructed.

You can whined but at the end opened up your mouth.

Hyein

“YN are you going on a strict diet again?” Hyein asked you sternly. You bit your lips nervously looking down while nodding.

She sighs and looks at you softly. “YN I’ve told you don’t indulge yourself in all these strict diets even if the company told you to do so, you’re still a baby” she giggled softly at your angry face. (Fake)

Later that same day you saw a huge pile of snacks in your room with a note. Yn I bought this snacks for you so you don’t starve yourself :) - hyein

✰𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒

[withwritersblock]

Oh! Darling pt. 3

~Oh! Darling by The Beatles~

Author's Note: a bit of a fluff piece tehe Summary: Y/N and Quinn get a night away Warnings: none Word Count: 2,082 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader Masterlist

July

Ellie was asleep in her nursery, it was well past eleven and Y/N and Quinn were still wide awake. Despite Quinn’s best efforts, he’s been gone a lot more than he’s wanted this summer. The NHL awards and the draft took a week of his time. His family was in town with him but the two most important girls in his life were still in Vancouver. 

He spent all day with Ellie practically attached at his hip, now he was spending time with his girlfriend. They were simply laying together in bed, watching Miracle. A movie that they can have in the background while they simply talk. It’s been too long since they’ve spent alone time together.

“What if Riley comes by and watches Ellie for the night while we go on a date?” Quinn asked as he rolled onto his side, meeting her gaze. She tilted her head down, her eyes squinting slightly. “What’s with that look?” he asked teasingly. 

She rolled her eyes playfully as she rolled onto her side, meeting his gaze. “Riley? Riley watching our four month old? Really?” she questioned sarcastically. Quin smiled as he dryly laughed. “She can barely watch herself!” she said while laughing.

“Would you rather my friends do it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. She sighed while rolling onto her back, staring towards the ceiling. “That’s what I thought,” he leaned towards her, pressing his lips to the side of her head. “We need a night to ourselves, you need to be pampered and you need to get all dressed up,” 

“Oh really?” she asked. 

He hummed as he climbed on top of her, staring down towards her, “When was the last time you went out and got all fancy?” he asked while staring down towards her. She pouted as her hands ran up and down his chest before she looped her hands around his neck. 

“I’ll be getting pampered?” she asked suspiciously. He nodded while leaning towards her. He pressed his lips to her cheek for a moment.

“We’ll have the whole afternoon and night together, only if you trust Riley to watch Elliana for that long,” he said while scanning her features.

She was hesitant. Maybe it was easier for Quinn to spend a night away from Ellie because he’s done it so much already. She’s never been away from Ellie for a whole night, let alone leave her alone with someone who’s never been alone with a kid. 

“I’ll ask Riley, I’ll make a full list of everything she needs to do so it’ll be okay,” she mumbled. He leaned towards her pecking her lips for only a second.

“It’ll all work out, I promise, my love,” he whispered before he kissed her lips again. 

~Two Days Later~

Ellie was starting to eat some baby food, they have only introduced apple and banana to her as they were given a list to do one day at a time. Today Ellie was sitting in her high chair, waiting for Quinn to give her some food. 

“Alright, my baby girl, we’ve got peas or carrots, probably both gross but maybe good to you. I don’t know,” he spoke, a small laugh leaving his throat. Ellie simply babbled, not fully understanding what he was saying. He sighed, “Carrots will probably be better,” He set the peas container down on the counter.

He clicked open the carrots container, “I’ll give it a try first and then you, okay?” he said and she giggled. He dug the tiny green spoon into the suspiciously orange baby food. He brought it to his mouth, taking the tiniest bite. It was awful. “Oh-so good, so good,” he cringed out as he tried not to show his disgust. “You try,” he said as he dug the spoon back into the baby food and he airplaned it towards her.

She gladly took a bite, clearly enjoying it. “Better you than me, Darling,” he whispered as he smiled towards her. Quinn lifted his gaze to see Y/N standing at the door way. “Hey love,” he said as he met her gaze from across the room. “Elle Belle likes carrots,” he offered excitedly. 

“Clearly you didn’t,” she teased as she walked across the living room towards where Ellie and Quinn were.

“Shhh, she’s not supposed to know that,” he said with a teasing grin.

“You put on a good performance though,” she offered as she wrapped her arms around his shoulder. Tilting her head to the side she met his gaze for a short moment before she pressed her lips against his briefly. “Riley’s going to be here in thirty minutes,” she offered. He hummed as he switched his attention back towards his daughter.

“How does she like this stuff?” he asked as he gave Ellie another spoonful. She gladly ate it no problem. Y/N giggled.

“She’s a baby, Quinny, she doesn’t know anything else,” she offered as she stared towards her little girl. 

“Yeah well wait till she finds out what ice cream is,” Quinn said smiling. She kissed his cheek for a few seconds.

“I’m going to get dressed and do my makeup. Any guidance on what I should wear?” she questioned as she slowly pulled away from him. Quinn watched her walk away.

“I’m wearing a suit, if that helps my love,” he let out, a grin oon his lips. 

“It does, thank you,” she said as she hopped and walked excitedly towards their bedroom.

After thirty minutes, Riley arrived. Not knocking per usual. “Where’s my beautiful date for the night?” Riley called out as she walked into the apartment. Quinn chuckled as he stood up from the couch as he held Ellie to his side. “There she is! Ellie, my girl,” she said excitedly reaching for the girl. Ellie giggled as her arms reached towards Riley. 

“Amazing, I can start getting ready,” he said excitedly jogging around Riley towards his bathroom. Riley rolled her eyes playfully as she shifted her attention solely to Ellie. He jogged into the bathroom squeezing past Y/N. She was standing in a robe, styling her hair. She smiled towards him as he started ripping his clothes off so he could jump into the shower. She rolled her eyes playfully as she watched him.

It took another thirty minutes before Quinn was ready. Well, almost ready. Y/N stood beside him finishing her makeup while he was running his fingers through his hair, styling it. He was in his suit, the same one he wore when he won the Norris trophy. 

“Ri, you doing alright?” Y/N shouted as she tilted her head back, peeking towards the hallway. 

Riley smiled widely as she walked up to the doorway, no Ellie in her arms. The baby monitor in her hand. “Nap time started at three, she’s out like a light. I got this, you two finish getting ready and have an amazing night away,” she said smiling widely before she slipped away back towards the living room. 

Y/N shifted her gaze towards Quinn, smiling softly. “She’s got this,” Quinn offered while pursing his lips forward. She rolled her eyes playfully as she finished applying the last of her makeup. He smiled as he adjusted his collar as he stared towards his girlfriend smittingly. 

“I’m going to get my dress on and we can head out,” she stepped towards him, kissing his cheek before she wandered towards their bedroom. Quinn smiled to himself as he dropped his head. He walked out of the bathroom, towards the living room. 

Riley was planted on the couch, a blanket covering her frame as she was clicking through Netflix trying to find something to watch. “Thanks again for this Riley,” Quinn offered as he shoved his hands into his pants pocket awwardly. 

“Y/N’s been needing this, she’s missed you a lot Quinn,” Riley said as she smiled a wide grin, “I’ll be full time babysitter if it means you two get to be Quinn and Y/N again.” she said. Quinn smiled as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Thanks Ri,” he mumbled, shyly. “She’s got to get up at four if she’ll be asleep by eight. And you want her to be asleep by eight or else-”

“She won’t sleep at all, I know Quinn. I got this, remember?” Riley offered. Quinn chuckled nervously.

“Right, yeah. We just haven’t left Ellie alone with someone who’s not our moms,” he said with a chuckle. “But between Isabella, Luke, and Jack, we trust you the most,” 

“It’s not the fact that I live in Vancouver and Isabella lives in Michigan. Luke and Jack are Jersey, none of that matters?” she asked sarcastically. He shook his head laughing.

“Even if any of them lived in Vancouver, I would never leave them alone with my daughter until they have their own kid,” he explained while laughing, he lifted his gaze to see Y/N walking towards them in a short black dress. It was flowy, had semi-long ruffle sleeves. “Oh, wow,” he let out breathlessly. 

She shyly dropped her gaze towards the floor before she continued walking towards him. “You like it?” she offered as she took in a deep breath. He nodded dramatically, a wide grin to his lips as he walked towards her.

“You look amazing,” he mumbled, taking a hold of her hand, spinning her. 

“Okay, stop making me sad and more single than I already am. Go out, don’t make another baby, and come back refreshed,” Riley expressed, her face squirming up in disgust. Quinn and Y/N chuckled as Quinn took a hold of her hand and guided her towards the door. 

“No promises, on the baby making,” Quinn teased, Y/N shoved him slightly as they giggled. They continued out of the apartment, hand in hand. 

“So where are we heading, my love?” she asked as she began to swing their hands back and forth. 

“We are going to that fancy restaurant you love, and then we are going to go walk downtown and then we are going to a very fancy hotel with very amazing room service,” he explained. 

“You don’t have to spend that much money on this day, Quinn-”

“You deserve to be pampered, my love,” he whispered as they entered the elevator to the parking garage.

“But this is too much,” she whispered as she turned to face him. They waited for the elevator to reach their floor. Quinn reached his hand over, brushing the small piece of hair away from her face. 

“You deserve a lot more than what I planned for tonight,” he leaned towards her, delicately kissing her as the elevator doors opened.

~~~

They stopped on the path, turning their gaze towards the water. The moonlight was cascading over the water, illuminating it. She stared towards the water, smiling softly as she inched closer to Quinn. He switched his gaze towards her, pressing his lips against her forehead, “What are you thinking, my love?” he asked softly as his hand ran up and down her back. 

“Did you think at fifteen this would be our life?” she asked as she continued looking ahead of her. He furrowed his eyebrows as he hummed. “I honestly thought we wouldn’t make it,” she dropped her head.

“Why’d you think that?” he asked. She pointed towards the small bench closer to the water edge. He followed her towards the bench, sitting closely beside her. 

“I knew you would make it, I knew you would be drafted to some team and you would be successful. I thought that we would do the long distance thing and we would fizzle out. Like a lot of high school relationships do. But you asked me to go Vancouver with you and I was going to say no. I really was but I agreed and I never looked back,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “You’re my dream Quinny, our daughter is my dream,” she mumbled out meeting his gaze. He swallowed hard, blinking tears away from his eyes. 

“Where’s all this coming from?” he asked, choked up slightly. She smiled towards him.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just happy,” she expressed a soft grin to her lips. 

“Maybe I’m just happy too,” he whispered as he leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers. He reached his hand up, resting it onto her cheek for a moment. He glided his hand from her cheek towards the base of her neck.

[totaly-obsessed]

Think Fast!

Mary Earps x reader blurb

-> Mary tends to chuck things at her girlfriend, but she didn't expect it to end this way

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Dating Mary was the best thing ever – endless cuddles, nice meals, incredibly new friends, so many travel experiences, and of course – Mary herself.

One thing you didn’t expect, however, was getting objects chucked at you at every possible chance. And it didn’t start at some point in the relationship, no you knew what you were getting yourself into.

On your first date with the older woman, she took you to a picnic. You sat at a nice little lake, relaxing in the nice sunshine – a warm fuzzy feeling spreading through your entire body.

“Think fast!”

And just like that the idyllic moment was over. A banana was heading straight to your face. Your first instinct was to reach out and block the fruit, but seeing as you were propped up on both your hands you fell onto your back having no upper body strength to hold yourself up. The banana, however, still hit you.

Mary couldn’t breathe with how hard she was laughing, and if you weren’t so confused, you would have laughed too. “Jeez baby, we really need to work on those reflexes of yours.”

The Brit took it into her own hands, chucking everything at you that she could. Shoes, her gloves, your Make-Up, pillows everything she could think of.

“Baby?”

“Mhmm?”

“Think Fast!”

You had developed a Pavlovian response during the three years you had been dating, ducking whenever you heard those two words leave your girlfriend's lips.

But you did eventually learn to catch. Well, most of the things.

Now three years later you were back at the Lake for a quiet date night, well as quiet as it could be with Mary on a sugar high. You were looking at the cute ducks on the water when Mary got suspiciously quiet behind you.

“Baby?” And just like that you were ready for everything.

“Hmm?”

“Think Fast?” As usual, you turned around, confused by Mary’s questioning tone.

The brunette however wasn’t on the blanket how you expected her to be, but directly in front of you, kneeling on one knee. In her hands was a beautiful little box, with an even prettier ring inside. Choked up with tears you sank to your knees falling into her arms before pressing a soft kiss to her lips, “Yes!”

[literaila]

untrustworthy 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: 

"are you mad at me?"

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?"

warnings: angst, alludes to depression, lost of interest, pushing people away, this is a pining fic because they’re not actually together, angst, fluff at the end, peter sucks but he’s also great? 

a/n: i haven’t written anything in weeks and this is so terrible but take it or leave it. i am. 

*

if you've learned anything in the past year, it's that you couldn't trust peter parker. 

you couldn't trust him to finish his portion of your shared slideshow for your physics class. and you shouldn't have trusted him to tell you if he couldn't get it done before the due date--sparing you both from the wide-eyed, slightly over-amused gazes of classmates who thought peter's "the end" slide was purely a comedic stroke, and not just laziness, or a miserable attempt to pretend he hadn't cost you thirty percent of your grade. 

and even after, you couldn't trust him not to give you a look--his signature look--sending you plummeting towards forgiveness before he'd even gotten the chance to apologize. 

you couldn't trust peter parker to pick up a mutual friend's birthday cake or get himself home safely without cracking his glasses, or not to eat all of the cookies that may made for you on his way to your apartment. you wouldn't trust him to wash your dishes or sleep on your couch without burning the entire building down. 

it was a dangerous thing, you'd realized, about three months after you'd met him, to try and count on him. 

peter parker would borrow a pen from you, flicking his hair your way and smiling that charming smile, and then proceed to give it back to you at your thirty-year reunion. or never. 

you'd learned not to expect him to show up for anything on time, ask him to pick anything up for you, or let him do laundry in your apartment. 

peter parker was anything but dependable. and if you could give the past version of yourself any advice, it would be not to trust him. 

not to let that foolish hope exist before it was crumbled between strong hands like a grocery receipt, never to be seen again. 

you wouldn't let that faded, reliable version of peter exist. 

you couldn't trust peter parker to do anything or make any promise he would actually keep. 

you couldn't even trust him to stay away from you when you wanted space the most; like now. 

because as soon as you heard that knock on your door, a bitter part of you was scowling at the intrusion, cursing your friend for bothering to exist or always showing up when you didn't want him to. 

and you knew that just like every other thing peter did, he wouldn't take no for an answer. even if you didn't answer the door. even if you threw your phone down into the garbage disposal. 

you were pretty sure peter could pick a lock. and also slightly suspicious that he'd had a copy of your key made behind your back. 

so when peter walks into your living room, hair dripping from the rain, arms full of grocery bags, you aren't surprised. 

you barely even blink at him before returning your attention to your tv, where a couple was viciously debating the cost of crown molding. 

his presence is its own curse because you can feel every movement he makes, just like always. 

"hey," peter says, smiling evilly. he ignores your ignoring. doesn't even mind the fact that you haven't looked at him. "i brought you some stuff." 

he kicks his shoes off--into your living room, of course, mud sticking to your carpet--and heads to the kitchen. 

"just some basics," he continues, not bothering to listen to any reply, verbal or not. "bread, eggs, milk. i got you some disgusting orange jello and a couple of those pre-made sandwiches they make at the deli. they're a bit... flat, but they should be okay still." 

you turn the volume up. 

peter doesn't mind. "there's also some protein bars in there--chocolate--just in case you want something quick," he walks back into the room, holding a glass bottle. "and i saw this banana-flavored soda when i was walking out, for us to try and throw up together." 

he shakes the bottle around, smile on his idiotic face, not even bothering to think about the harsh reality of carbonation. 

"open that over the sink," you mumble to him, still not meeting his eyes. 

you curse your weak willpower for ruining your silent game. and peter, for knowing that he would win eventually. 

peter tilts his head, tsking at you. "not even a thank you for your very thoughtful, handsome--" he plops down next to you, moving your legs so that he can tickle your feet. "and genius best friend?" 

"thanks, peter." 

instead of looking over at the man who was definitely trying to get you to yell at him, you choose to watch the ceiling on the tv crumble over brand-new hardwood. 

you frown. 

peter runs his hand up your calf, goosebumps riding his wake. "are you mad at me?" 

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?" 

"no, turkey." 

"then no." 

peter removes his hand. "what's wrong with the bologna?" 

"they put rat poison in it." 

peter pokes your thigh. "and you've been letting me eat it? you know i love those sandwiches."

you turn even further on your side, wall going up between the two of you, forcing his hand off, mumbling, "wanted to test a theory." 

"what theory?" 

finally, your eyes meet his--stupid brown, caring, auburn, and hateful eyes. "if rat poison would kill you or not." 

peter scoffs.  

you let your lip quirk up, irritated at his perfect mouth and thoughtful grocery list, and warm hands climbing up your stomach, and then look away. back to the house infested with termites. if there's anything to hate, it's adoration. the ridiculous attachment you have to him, even now.

"are you calling me a vermin?" 

you roll your eyes. "well, you're not dead so..." 

and it was all normal. peter sitting this close and trying to mold himself into your skin, the puppy eyes he was trying to give you, and his devious smirk. his teasing and lack of common sense, his stupid jokes, and stupid thoughtfulness, ruining the silent treatment you'd meant to give him. the space you'd been forcing between the two of you.

it was all normal, but you can feel him lurking, waiting for a moment to say something. you can feel him staring at you. 

"what?" you say, sharp and rough, after thirty seconds of it being too much. of peter being too close and too quiet.

his presence is a burden on your heart. 

peter's hands began to massage your legs, forcing you to let him in closer than you want him to be. "what, what?" he repeats. 

your eyes meet his with defenses already prepared. "what are you doing here, peter?"

the words are weapons. one punch to the jaw and a knife shoved into his back. 

you're trying to get him off of you, get him out that door and back into the world where he belongs so that you could stay here and rot, just like you want to.

but peter's eyes stay soft, his hands are kind and his intent is obvious. he isn't trying to fight with you.

he blows out a breath. "what're you doing here?"

you both stare at each other for a moment and then you look away, shaking your head. "i live here." 

"you know that's not what i mean." 

"do i?" you ask, voice sarcastic and mean. and it would be fine--usually. you and peter are mean to each other for sport. 

but he wasn't being anything but easy. careful as he stretched your muscles out like he could tell that you hadn't used them in days. 

trust peter to break your only rule. 

it was silent again; only the sounds of commercials in the background, a woman swearing that aleve changed her life. 

peter clears his throat. "why haven't you been answering my calls?" 

"lost my phone." 

"and class?" 

"i've been sick." 

"you missed an exam," he pushes. "you're gonna have to make it up." 

"already emailed connaly." 

"good." peter swallows, and you can feel his pounding, his questions even when he's not asking them. 

you want to push him off of the couch. you want to push him off of you, leave bruises from the fall, and tell him to find someone who can be his friend. who can do this. 

you want to be understanding, and as careful as he is. you love him enough to not scream, even if you want to.

"peter, i really just want to be alone, so--" 

"when's the last time you ate?" 

you sigh, pulling away from him. 

but peter has a firm hold on your legs, and even if you tried, you couldn't kick him away. 

"when was the last time you showered?" 

"i've been sick, peter, it doesn't--" 

"left the house?" he prods. "or moved from the couch? when was the last time you looked in the mirror?" 

you sit up, looking at him without meeting his eyes. "you should go. i could still be contagious." the words are tense, your face is stone, unmoving, and unwilling to do any of this with him. 

peter moves closer to you, his hands lingering just inches away from your marble face. "what's going on?" he asks, so softly that you can barely feel it on your plastered skin.

his concern and care, his stupid face and stupid eyes and-- 

"i can't do this, peter." 

"you need to talk to me," he says, without even processing what you've said. "you need to tell me what's happening because it's been almost two weeks since i've seen you, and this..." he gestures around the room. 

a place that used to be your home. 

"what happened?" 

and if anyone could get it out of you--pull the secrets you have hidden in your chest, ignoring your screams of pain--it would be peter. he would be the person that you talked to. 

that is if you wanted to talk at all. 

if you wanted to move from his couch and look into his eyes like you had been for months before this. like he was more than a classmate, or friend who had stuck to you. like he was someone who you wanted to care about. 

someone with perfect lips and wonderful eyes and an addicting laugh. 

someone who you might want to tell more, share more. 

the person that you'd been a month ago would've told peter. even unsure if he could keep that secret or stay with you, you would've told him. trusted him that much. more than he deserved. 

but the person sitting on your couch staring into those same eyes doesn't want anything. 

to move or breathe or have to tell peter that you just don't care anymore. 

that whatever you have to tell him is gone, that your words and voice have been ripped from your chest, that this couch, this distance you've been trying to build is the only remedy to fix the hole that remains. 

but you don't want to see him. you don't want to tell him anything. you don't want to breathe his air and risk infecting him. 

"nothing, peter. i'm fine." 

"you look like you've spent the last month in the hospital." 

"well, you look like a goddamn swimsuit model, so i guess we're even." 

you're watching as his serious face shifts, and you can see it as he fights back a laugh, his eyes just barely flickering. 

and you wish that you didn't care. you wish so badly that it didn't matter. you look away, thinking to pretend that none of this exists. 

you've had enough nightmares like this lately. 

"hey," peter says, one fingertip turning your eyes back to his. and you know it's not a dream, because your imagination can never get those eyes just right. "i'm here to listen. whatever it is. we'll work it out. i just need you to talk to me."

"i told you, there's nothing--" 

"and you've got to stop lying to me like i can't tell." 

you scowl. 

peter's eyebrows lift, a fraction of affection appearing on his face. "c'mon, just tell me. i won't laugh." 

you look down, at his hand resting on your thigh, and the hole you've burned into the couch. 

you don't want to look at his eyes anymore. you're tired of trying to look away. and not talking to him. 

you sigh. "nothing, peter. just..." you blink, but it's not enough to push his regard off of you. to rid yourself of the toxins he's breathed into you. 

you were almost immune to them, just a few weeks ago. mithridatism only works if it's consistent. 

and his eyes are more dangerous when you haven't seen them. 

you freeze. "there's nothing," you repeat, defenses falling, hands going to push him away from your face. 

and peter knows what's going to happen before you do. "hey," he says, already soothing. "whatever it is..." 

and peter grabs you before you fall. he catches that first tear, and it's his forever. his arms fold around your shoulder, his strong hands keeping your head up. 

"there's nothing. it's all gone. everything i want, everything i--" 

his hands are tilting your face up to his but you can't look at him. you can't look into his perfect eyes and feel ashamed of yourself anymore. 

you're sick and tired of feeling sorry for yourself. 

"i can't feel anything, peter. i don't want to do anything but sit here and hope that eventually, this feeling goes away. that it all just..." you shake your head, feeling him invade you. 

and then you lean in and let peter hold you up. 

you hadn't even realized that you were crying. hadn't realized how far down you'd pushed the words until they were bubbling up. 

bile crawling up your throat. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper to him, just before he crushes you into a hug, your head buried into his neck. your tears staining his perfect skin. "i'm so sorry." 

peter shakes his head against you, holding you even closer. 

and you can't breathe with how tight he's holding you, but this sort of breathlessness is welcome. much better than the other kind. 

you laugh against him, feeling how sore your body is. how angry you are with yourself. 

"i've got you," peter whispers, into your hair, kissing your forehead. "we'll figure it out." 

you shake your head but say nothing. 

you finally breathe him in, desperate after denying yourself for so long. you don't have to worry about anything as long as peter is right there. 

"god," he says, after a few minutes pass. "i'm sorry i didn't come sooner. i thought..." 

thought you were okay, you can hear. thought that you needed space, that time was a perfect solution. 

"not your fault," you mumble into him. 

peter leans back, just so that you'll look up at him. "why didn't you tell me? you know i would've come," he says, "if you'd just called." 

"i didn't want--" you swallow, looking away. "i didn't want you to know. or see." 

peter scowls. "what did you think would happen? i would leave? or tell you to get over yourself?" 

"maybe."

"are you insane?" 

"maybe." 

peter doesn't even laugh. he makes you look at him again, not knowing how cruel those eyes of his are. "i would've stayed," he tells you, "no matter what. even if you told me that you murdered someone. or run over a squirrel with your bike. i would've been there. i'm going to be there." 

his jaw is tense and his eyes are so serious, but you sniffle, shaking your head. "even if i murdered a squirrel?" 

"i mean... it would be hard. but i'd do it." 

you laugh. 

he swallows, shaking his head. "you need to tell me what's going on, okay? instead of ghosting me for two weeks, acting like you died or something." 

"i answered a couple of your texts." 

peter glares at you. 

"okay. i'm sorry." 

he shakes his head again, almost smiling, if a little bit sad. "are you okay?" 

you fall back into him, suffocating yourself into his shoulder. you don't want to answer that, and hope that peter doesn't push. 

for once, he does what you want, wrapping his arm back around you, pulling you in closer. 

"okay," he says, and breathes with you. 

you sit with him for a few seconds, glad that he's there, and then you ask, "how'd you get in?" voice muffled by his shirt. 

"it was unlocked, you idiot." 

you frown, looking up at him. 

peter laughs. 

"no, it wasn't." 

his eyes return to normal, deviance stuck in his expression. "i used my key," he answers, innocently. 

trust peter to ruin the moment.

*

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl    invisibletrolleyson-jeremy  @sharkswaters  @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

[kabutoden]

i think these two are some of my top favorite fantrolls :) they're just so stupid cute. The boy with acne's name is Excell and the girl's name is Banana Junior 6000. She's the big, blocky CRT computer monitor you can see Excell riding around on in the first image--listen, people started making robot trolls oc, and hey robots can be ANY shape, even the shape of a banana junior from the old comic bloom county. I love that little guy :) so im stealing him for my fantroll. I DO WHAT I WANT!

More below cut.

Excell's been obsessed with hunting for ghosts for a long time, and he repairs ancient, manual troll technology to do so. The tunnels between the gold city and school are creepy, abandonded, and a perfect place to look. Recently a device he brought back gained sentience, and he's so proud that a ROBOT can develop an identity and personality--though a lot of his friends have pointed out that Banana Junior's behavior is suspiciously more like a troll then a robot. Excell, eager to accept the robot revolution, denies their observations because Banana Junior is literally his best friend and moirail!?! He is dating that computer. It's because he respects its PERSONHOOD.

Excell might seem a bit like a nerd stereotype that you might disrespect but he has complete confidence in his own identity and interests and is a really solid dude. Super talented, too. I think he's pretty awesome, actually. He's also genuinely a very good friend. I like how i built his personality, kinda like a fun blend of concepts around Aradia and Sollux.

He's unfortunately wrong about Banana Junior--that's totally a spirit made of electricity possessing his computer, and toying with him setting off his electronics when he goes ghost hunting. Junior finds playing with Excell way more interesting then look into their own identity, which they don't really remember--they don't want the confirmation that they really are dead.

Fortunately, Junnye is actually still alive, just comatose after going through an intense surgery, the electric energy of her mind astral-projecting from her body. One day, Excell will help her confront who she is and travel back to her body, and they'll continue to live happily as partners.

[writingforatwistedworld]

If requests are still open (and if it is within the rules) may I request a shot for the Reader who casually refers to TWST guy as her "dream boyfriend" on a daily puzzle? For self-aware!Au and Leona/Jsmil/Riddle if possible? Thank you.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, death, murder, violence, unhealthy relationship, implied family problems, threats

Riddle Rosehearts/Leona Kingscholar/Jamil Viper-Referring to them as your “dream partner”

Ah yes, cricket. The sport that the Queen of Hears loved so dearly and was the reason why many flamingos and hedgehogs probably planned a rebellion against humans

But here he was, Riddle Rosehearts himself, fueling that fire of hatered of his supposedly feathery friends when he felt the presence of the Overseer again

What a surprise, but he was happy none the less

Playing a perfect game because if he didn’t there was no way he could be worthy of your attention

And then you said those words

Riddles flamingo was this close to going bananas as it felt his grip getting uncomfortably tight around its’ legs

Getting called your dream partner… has he ascended to heaven?

And it didn’t stop there, the next few days you continued to fo that

You better believe me when I tell you that everyone was almost screaming in fear when he was about to punish someone only for him to freeze and stare with glassy eyes onto the distance

Mhm, you said it… only that you saw him on your home screen instead of telling a student that it was “off with his head”

But what if one day you didn’t want him anymore? What if you found someone else whom you thought was better than him?

That was the moment he started to turn into his old self

Only that he didn’t act like this because of his mother but because he thought that if he followed your roles perfectly you wouldn’t divert your attention to someone else

Dark days, my friend. Dark days…

Sometimes though even he misuses them, claiming that someone did something wrong whenever he feels threatened

Never mind that one time when something inside of him snapped and Trey had to wash suspiciously red clothing

Leona isn’t someone who desperately wants to be in a relationship but if you were to ask...

So here he is, laying like most of his free time in the greenhouse, sleeping away...

And it would have been a normal day if it weren’t for you, suddenly appearing as if you had planned to give him a heart attack

They said this wasn’t a horror game… tell that to Leona who is now clutching his chest from the jumpscare of you appearing

So, the housecat extravagant over there is expecting your visit to play out like usual, make students study… making Deuce nearly break his neck during flying lessons

What he did not expect though was you suddenly going all “Awww I like him so much!”

Well… apparently he is a heck of a fresh snack since you are suddenly like “He my dream partner!”

Charming. Absolutely charming. And absolutely not making him go into cardiac arrest for a minute

Leona thought this would be a one-time tingy but no. You are persistently trying to make him loose every single one of his nine lives

You repeat it. And repeat it. And repeat it. And… can someone help Leona over there. I’m starting to think those bad jokes are slowly turning into reality

Suddenly sleepy lion who doesn’t take care of himself is high fashion. Is Vil seething? Maybe but what I can guarantee you is that he plans to turn Sunset Savannahs second prince into a scarf

Malleus over there also looks like he might implode any moment but we don’t talk about the end of the world here… at least not now

Leona is not dangerous because he is very active but because he has his way with words and if that doesn’t work then he can literally grind people to dust… all I am saying is that his magic worked on Ruggie

So whenever he sees someone getting close to him so that they can also get close to you then they better be prepared for intimidation tactics which Lilia hadn’t seen since the war and they will definitely might end up with a few healthy bones less… especially in the neck are but this is a sunny side blog! We- we don’t talk about dark stuf here!

And yes, of course, this is bad for his ego but Leona knows that him changing in any way that is a bit more egoistical will probably end up in a negative way

After all, not even he is sure what he would do would you stop to refer him as someone you consider as husbando material

Uh… Jamil… poor in the shadow standing Jamil…

Now this is someone I can definitely assure you thinks he has absolutely no chance with you

Although that changed after his overblot, with him finally getting a good session of screaming at Kalim his self-esteem was definitely in better waters

So here he is, still a servant but at least he got his problems off of his soul

Which ends up with him dreaming. Would a kind and all-knowing soul like yourself even look at him? If yes, how would it be?

One day, that one darn day, you came and did what you ususally did

Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, just some guidance

And then he feels your attention on him, his body going into “plank-mode” as he started to become nervous

All the years of serving someone like the Asim family was not able to prepare him for you

And then he is suddenly perfect boyfriend material

What’s even funnier is that he was puring Kalim a drink and at your words he gave the young heir an unvoluntary shower

Huh? The incense has probably gotten to his head, he thought whilst carrying food over to Kalim but then you started to squeal about him again and… I know, what a waste of good food.

When you repeat it every day his self esteem gets even better day by day, you repeating yourself on a daily basis

But what if someone were to take this away from him? What if some lowly insect were to question his position

Jamil can be frightening. Not the normal kind tough. No. Frighting frighting

SUdddenly that students’ social life is ruined because he did something horrible, even his family can’t look him into the eyes. WHat Jamil is always alone to those recently violent becoming people? Nah, that must be wrong, right?

[chukys-mouthguard]

For your prompt requests maybe prompt #1 with Joseph Woll, maybe she lives in Toronto and he went home for the off-season.

I’ve never written for Joseph Woll, but he cracks me up in any little player personality type videos so I really enjoyed writing this one!

“I don’t think you’re gonna even recognize me when you see me babe.” 

Smirking to yourself you couldn’t help but chuckle. Joseph had been talking all about his off season training and how excited he was to get back to Toronto. To which you could attest, he looked great. He’d spent the summer with a couple of old teammates and they all committed to a pretty strict training program. The results were more than Joseph could’ve expected, giving him a nice confidence boost ahead of training camp. But of course it was also a plus for you to be able to drool all over your boyfriend’s new hot body. 

“What did you get facial reconstruction surgery too? I didn’t know that was part of the training program.” He snorts out a laugh, always loved your quick comebacks and digs you could dish out. 

“God I miss you.” 

He lighthearted tone now fading as his line of the phone goes silent. 

“One more night, and then you’ll finally be back in my arms.” You playfully call out into the phone as you head to the fridge to grab a drink before plopping down on the couch. 

“One more night might as well be 10! I don’t know what’s been hard this summer; my training schedule or not having you to come home to everyday. Of course you couldn’t be making me bomb ass dinners like usual. Would probably have to throw a few extra salads into the mix. Oh my god and no more cookies or banana bread.” 

He jokingly whined into the phone as you just shook your head. “Babe, you know there are healthier baked good alternatives I could make right?” “Yeah and they probably taste like shit! I can’t have you ruin my opinion of your baking with some gluten free buckwheat flower yak’s milk concoction. Noooo way!” 

Your laugh now filling your apartment, causing Joseph to even laugh at his own words. “I don’t even know if buckwheat flour is a thing…or yak’s milk. But if it is, I don’t want it!” 

The two of you continuing on your conversation as you’d heard the sound of Joseph’s car turning off, the locking with a beep. You hadn’t even noticed he was driving if you were honest. To excited about the conversation of him soon being home. 

“Joseph Woll, where on earth are you driving to this late at night?” Scolding him playfully you can hear him grabbing something from his car, assuming he had one last late night training session before he came back to Toronto. 

“Home silly goose.” 

Shrugging it off you picked back up in the conversation, discussing some new plot point that was introduced in one of your guilty pleasure tv shows that Joseph loved hearing the drama about. 

“And then, they built up the entire episode for you to think she was going to end up choosing Aaron, but then at the last minute she-knock knock knock- who the hell is knocking on my door at 11:50pm. Babe, stay on the phone please?” 

He hummed a response, letting you know he was still on the line as you nervously walked toward the door. The peep hole being covered so you couldn’t see who the culprit was. Deciding you weren’t tempting fate, you walked away, pickup back up with your story. 

“Babe who was at the door?” 

“I don’t know the peep hole was covered! I’m not trying to die before my boyfriend gets back home!” 

He laughed at you as a triple knock came again. 

“Trust me babe, open the door…” 

Something in his voice made you suspicious, quickly hustling back to the door to open it. Only to find Joseph standing their with a cheesy grin on his face as he laughed at you. 

“Joseph Woll you scared me half to death! What is wrong with you?” 

Playfully smacking him before jumping into his arms, wrapping him in a hug before pulling his lips to yous. “I couldn’t wait any longer, I had to get home to you. Can you forgive me?” 

He pouted his lips only to have the pout kissed away by you instantly. “Of course, now wait a minute-“ taking a step back you eyed him up and down. Taking in how his chest and arms now filled out his tshirt, how his joggers clung to his thighs. 

“I’m not sure we’ve actually ever met, you don’t look familiar, what’s your name?” He rolled his eyes at your comments, poking fun at his claim you’d not even recognize him. 

“Very funny, guess I won’t show what I look like without the shirt then if you don’t recognize me.” He leaned in as he spoke, his lips almost brushing yours with his words before he headed off down the hall to the bathroom. Turning the shower on, as you quickly followed. 

“Joooo, you know I’m just messing around I-“ stopping in your tracks you’d turned in the doorway of the bathroom to find him now shirtless as he reached into the cupboard for a towel. 

“Wow.” 

Simply the only words you could get out as he just smirked, slightly chuckling at your reaction before turning to face you. Closing the distance as you tried your best to look him in the eyes though his muscles really stealing the show. 

“Do you wanna pick your jaw up now or after I shower?” 

[khaire-traveler]

So, my friend just left their job at a certain chain of grocery stores that starts with a W and decided to share some interesting facts with me. I thought y'all might find it interesting, too.

W has had a major problem with theft since introducing the "no plastic bags". People keep putting things in their personal bags at the self checkout or even leaving them purposely in their bags at the cash registers (and most cashiers don't actually check for hidden items if other bags are inside of the main bag or if it's not obvious).

They've applied new locks to certain items that hang because people would just pull them off of the old locks. They're actually planning to introduce more security measures in the future - specifically, putting many items behind locked glass doors.

W's self checkout now has features where it can detect a ticket switch (scanning another product in place of the actual product) and a mis-scan. Pretty interesting stuff! Apparently, though, it's not always 100% accurate, and if someone were to scan the second ticket in such a way that the camera above couldn't see it, it may not be able to detect it. The machine, however, can tell when two VERY different items do not match (ex: scanning a pair of expensive headphones as a fruit). If it detects a problem, the attendant can pause the transaction and review the footage of the last item that was scanned. Definitely a helpful security feature!

The greeters at the front of the store are trained to only check a receipt if there are unbagged items. Along with that, if they see a bag or backpack, they'll check receipts then, too, and will look inside of the bag if the customer allows it. Crazy thing is that you can deny having your receipt checked! They can't and won't do anything if a customer just walks past them, and if they try to stop a customer leaving, W can get sued.

The only W personnel who are allowed to deal with shoplifters and the like are the Asset Protection Team™. No one else is allowed to touch a suspected thief, nor are they allowed to accuse a customer of stealing. If a customer is accused of stealing and forced through a receipt check yet hasn't stolen anything, W legally has to compensate them for the hassle upon request (with proof, such as camera footage, the request simply can't be denied, though W may try to prolong the process).

W employees are required to clean up spills immediately upon seeing them. I'd say most employees will just leave the spill, grab the equipment, then come to clean it up in reality, but they're supposed to "guard" the spill until they can find another associate to help them clean it up. I'm just saying, but this seems like a really unfortunate distraction that could take an employee's attention away from other matters, such as if there's suspicious activity nearby and someone was purposely creating some kind of distraction. These spills do make their jobs harder, however.

One of the biggest issues that I heard about was people scanning the quantity of certain items as less than there actually were (specifically at self checkouts). Pastries and fruits are a good example of this. Some people will enter one cookie but actually have 3, for example. I think the items this happens most often with are cookies, donuts, avocados, bananas, lemons, limes, mangoes, cantaloupes, and any items that like those that don't require a weight to purchase. This is the case with most grocery store self checkouts, however.

Although many of the cameras W places within random store aisles are fake, those that are placed near expensive items tend to be legit cameras. There was a post that circulated online about how these cameras tend to be fake, and due to that post, you'll now see lots of thieves get caught on cameras that they assumed were not real. It's so wild when you see those videos on YouTube! Those videos literally expose the identities of the people who steal to potentially thousands of people across the world and establish shitty reputations for said people. Other stores are made aware of their identities and can more easily prevent the stealing!

Speaking of those videos, it's very silly to watch those thieves try to hide things in their coats or bags just to discover that the items don't fit. It's almost as if they didn't check beforehand to make sure they'd have enough room, especially without it being noticeable! I mean, don't they practice in a mirror or even have a loved one who checks to see if it's obvious? That's so wild to me!

While associates who are at registers and self checkouts aren't allowed to intervene if they see or suspect a thief, they do have to immediately alert the managers and asset protection. It's pretty wild to see this process in action and watch how quickly the team can move! I've even heard of asset protection being allowed to tackle customers they believe are stealing, although I've never seen this in action. I kind of feel like tackling a thief, especially one you're not sure is actually a thief, would be a good way to get W sued, you know?

I feel like SOOOOO many thieves get caught by giving themselves away, tbh. I guess this isn't something my friend told me, but I've seen it happen so many times in security footage videos on YouTube where the person stealing will look around them as they're grabbing the item, quickly put the item into wherever, look around again, and use a lot of nervous body language as they try to exit the store. Like, the best thieves I've seen have always acted very confident - being aware of their surroundings before grabbing the item, grabbing the item very casually, finding a casual way to slip it into somewhere as they walk away, and walking out with the confidence that they know exactly what they're doing and absolutely nothing is wrong. They seem to walk with their backs straight and their heads held up a bit, almost as if to say "I'm not worried". Either that, or they walk with a very relaxed stride, like that of someone who's just walking into W and walking back out for no reason in particular. When they put too much thought into how they walk, however, it becomes much more obvious. A dead giveaway is probably when the thief acts fidgety, seems paranoid, displays signs of being very nervous whenever an associate is nearby or watching them, and walks very rigidly. You also tend to see good thieves going to checkout lanes that are the furthest from an employee or are in a spot in the middle. Pretty interesting!

Please share this if you'd like! This information is very important for us customers to be aware of. Hopefully, we can spot security threats ourselves and report them to employees of any store! I'm sure many of these things happen at other stores besides W.

[bloodmoonmuses]

mediocre party crashers: the x-mas special | mark lee

read part one here! genre: mark lee x reader, fluff

Crashing parties has now become a hobby of yours. A real, habitual thing with methods and strategies and memories… From galas, to masquerade balls, frat parties and the occasional wedding, it’s safe to say you’re a pro. 

Your identity is something you’ve made malleable and mutable. Everchanging and morphing. Slowly shifting like a mood ring. You’re everyone and no one at the same time. You’re a paradox. And even in all the grandiose you’ve experienced, your absolute favorite type of party to crash was corporate holiday parties. They’re no-man’s land, really. The gaudy festiveness of them coupled with hollow smiles. The hum of a near broken radiator and a shitty karaoke machine. Lukewarm instant hot cocoa made with water instead of milk. 

The atmosphere is electric in the weirdest way- so palpable to be shrouded in such greyish mundanity. 

Tonight is no more different than many of your other outings. You and your partner in crime, Ningning, lock elbows as you wander around an office building. You had fought for an hour about what’s appropriate to wear to an office party (which resulted in you having to unpack Ningning’s understanding of an office siren. “-I wanna look hot!” she had said. To which you replied, “Time and place. We’re not amateurs anymore.”)

And so here you are, clad in an itchy sweater and pencil skirt, scouting out the scenery of some podunk town’s marketing firm. The manager has seemingly insisted on not updating any of the technology, filing cabinets lining the walls and chunky monitors on the cubicle desks. Tinsel has been strewn gingerly on a real fir tree, and plastic tablecloths cover foldable tables. Wrapping paper has been taped along the back of the cubicle walls to give the office a festive feeling. 

“Ugh,” says Ningning, as the two of you load up paper plates with homemade desserts. (Banana pudding for you. Caramel cake for Ningning.) “Fluorescent lighting.” Then, as if on cue, the bulb above her begins to flicker. Then she says, “Let’s mingle.”

You sidle up to a sharply dressed man, who you assume is the owner of the firm based on the wayward glances of the other attendees. He introduces himself as Doyoung and eyes you curiously. “Do I know you?”

“A friend of a friend… of a friend,” you say. “Here for moral support. How were the quarter four stats?” A classic diversion.

“Good enough for Christmas bonuses for the first time in three years. Finally bounced back from Covid.” Greyish mundanity, but the most beautiful variation of it. Will persevering through catastrophe. The human tendency to endure and endure together.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” you say. And you mean it.

“Cheers to the new year?” says Doyoung, extending a paper cup with snowflakes on it in your direction.

“Cheers indeed.” 

The night progresses with twinkling optimism. You like intertwining yourself in people’s life stories. Hearing about their kids, the new boutique that’s opening on the square, or how some of the upper management can be real assholes. Small talk and human connection. Contentedness wafting off warm bodies. 

“We were nearly snowed out,” says an older gentleman, who you’d think were cute if not for the hideous mustache adorning his face. He had just regaled you with the details of planning this highbrow shindig. “And who are you again?”

However, you’re too distracted to answer him, having now noticed a suspiciously young-looking guy assembling a cup of cocoa. As you walk up to the table, he shifts to the left, giving you access to the other side of it. Through your periphery, he seems familiar, but you can’t seem to place him.

“This might sound weird-”

“Do I know you? -” You begin speaking at the same time. When the two of you make eye contact, both of you are stricken with recognition. Mark Lee.

“No way. Preppie!” he exclaims, putting his cup down and scooping you into an embrace.

“Preppie? That’s what you remember me as?”

He pulls back from the hug and scans your features, almost as if to confirm his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “From that yacht party, like, a year ago. You never texted me back!”

“I didn’t text you back? You never texted me!” you counter.

“Here, I’ll show you.” Mark takes out his phone, scrolls for a bit, then shows you an unanswered text message from a year ago. 

July 25, 2023

Mark: Sooo…. How about that rodeo party? [unopened]

Upon closer inspection, however, you see your number is incorrect.

“It’s an 8 at the end, not a 9.” you respond, taking his phone and updating your contact without question.

“I thought you got creeped out or something,” Mark says, sighing in relief as enter the number. When you’re done, he asks, “How have you been? What are you doing here?”

“Fine. Good. Ning and I have basically hit up all the companies in the city this year, so we figured we’d try the ‘burbs. Gotta love a company Christmas Party.” He nods in agreement. “You look dapper,” you add. 

He’s wearing a slate gray suit and a holly-printed tie.

“A little overdressed. It’s my wedding suit,” says Mark. “You look…”

“Like a middle-aged salary worker?”

“I was gonna say cozy.”

“Right.”

Suddenly, Ningning walks up from behind, poking your ribs with her fingers. “ Hey, nerd, they’re gonna play Pin the Nose on the Reindeer! First place gets a $20 Target gift card!” Then, when she notices Mark, she says, “Oh! Hey, Bottle Boy.”

You glare at her. How does she even remember him?

Mark’s face twists in confusion as he asks, “What does that mean?”

“Nothing!” you shout. Mark shrugs and shuffles off to join the festivities. Before she can walk away, you yank Ningning by the elbow and whisper into her ear. “Ningning, you did read my journal!?”

“Perhaps I’ve been a part of one of his lifetimes- a message in a bottle finally surfacing on a beach’s shore. I believed in the existence of fate, but only for a night..” she says, mocking you as she recites lines from your diary like a monologue.

“You’re the worst,” you sigh, facepalming. You remind yourself to change the hiding spot for your journal…

“What happened with that whole situation, anyway? Hasn’t it been over a year?” asks Ningning.

“Gave him the wrong number, apparently.”

She scoffs, taking your elbow in hers once more. “You idiot.”

“I know.”

When you walk into the conference room where the game is being held, you notice Mark lingering in the doorway at the back of it. You make your way to him slowly, trying not to look too excited when you catch his eye and he promptly smiles.

“I’m dyingggg to see them play this game,” says Mark, watching as Doyoung gets a blindfold tied over his eyes.

Then, again, Ningning appears out of nowhere. “Don’t look up!” she exclaims to the both of you.

And, of course, the two of you do. Placed squarely above the door frame is a mistletoe, now glaringly obvious as you look at it with your neck craned. Mark stifles a cough and you feel the back of your neck heat up.

Mark looks at you nervously. “Uh, are you a mistletoe observer?”

“‘Mistletoe Observer’? Why are you asking like it’s a religious practice?” you ask.

Mark shrugs and says, “I dunno, man! Just trying to be respectful!”

“Respectful? It’s an arbitrary tradition. Are you a mistletoe observer?” you retort, half-joking. But Mark looks at you with such intensity, if only for half a second, that it knocks the air out of your lungs.

“I mean," he starts, already regretting his words and looking at his feet, “I’m not not a mistletoe observer…”

“You can’t keep saying ‘mistletoe observer’ and acting like it’s a thing.”

Mark pouts. “So we’re not about to kiss right now?”

You grab Mark’s stupid tie and pull him closer, giggling as the smirk is wiped off his face. 

Then you kiss him, melting into it like snow in the morning sun. Mark’s hands come up to grasp your face, deepening the fervor of the display of affection. You’re awestruck. Your message in a bottle has found his way back to you. 

You hope the tide wasn’t too bad.

When the kiss comes to an end and you open your eyes, you see and hear the rest of the partygoers cheering you on. Ningning has snapped a photo with her digital camera. Doyoung pipes up, still blindfolded and ready for the game.  “What’s happening? Are we playing the game or not?”

a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays! hope you enjoyed!