#mail processing stamp
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acornsalessealsstamps · 4 months ago
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Self Inking Bulk Rate Mail Stamp
In today’s fast-paced business environment, efficiency and professionalism are paramount. The Self-Inking Bulk Rate Mail Stamp emerges as an indispensable tool for businesses aiming to streamline their mailing processes while maintaining a polished image.
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Key Features of the Self-Inking Bulk Rate Mail Stamp
Integrated Inking Mechanism: This stamp is designed with a built-in ink pad, ensuring consistent and clear impressions with every use. The self-inking feature eliminates the need for a separate ink pad, reducing mess and enhancing convenience.
Durable Construction: Crafted from high-quality materials, the stamp is built to withstand frequent use, making it a reliable asset for businesses with high-volume mailing needs.
Clear Impressions: The stamp delivers sharp and professional imprints, ensuring that your mail is appropriately marked for bulk rate or first-class postage.
Benefits of Using the Self-Inking Bulk Rate Mail Stamp
Time Efficiency: The self-inking mechanism allows for rapid stamping, significantly reducing the time spent on preparing large volumes of mail. This efficiency is crucial for businesses aiming to meet tight deadlines.
Cost Savings: By clearly marking mail for bulk rate or first-class postage, businesses can take advantage of postal discounts, leading to substantial cost savings over time.
Professional Appearance: Consistent and clear stamping enhances the professional look of your mail, leaving a positive impression on recipients and reinforcing your brand’s credibility.
Versatility: Whether you’re sending invoices, promotional materials, or official correspondence, this stamp adapts to various mailing requirements, making it a versatile tool in your office arsenal.
Why Choose a Self-Inking Stamp Over Traditional Stamps?
Self-inking stamps offer several advantages over traditional rubber stamps:
Cleanliness: The enclosed ink pad design prevents ink smudges and keeps workspaces tidy.
Consistency: Each impression is uniform, ensuring that all mail is marked clearly and professionally.
Convenience: With the ink pad integrated into the stamp, there’s no need to carry separate accessories, making it portable and easy to use.
Incorporating the Self-Inking Bulk Rate Mail Stamp into your daily operations not only streamlines your mailing process but also enhances the overall efficiency and professionalism of your business communications. It’s a small investment that yields significant returns in time savings and brand image.
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chetungwan · 7 months ago
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I've been real busy lately because it's December and I work at the post office, so of course I am
But that doesn't mean I can't show up with an unprompted PSA
Hey! Have you ever mailed a letter to Santa Claus? Have you ever wondered what exactly happened to that letter? Well wonder no longer! If it had a stamp and a return address, then odds are that it ended up on the USPS's Operation Santa page!
Every year, the USPS collects letters to Santa Claus, and processes them to black out any identifying information. Last names, addresses, things like that. Then, the letters are posted on the Operation Santa webpage and people can adopt the letters.
Once you adopt a letter, you can buy gifts for them, wrap them up, and package them. Then you get a barcode from the website, and bring them to a post office. The clerk there will scan the barcode, which prints out a label with the address on it, and sends out the gift.
It's anonymous on both ends, and is generally just. A really nice thing to do.
I highly recommend it if you have some money to spare this year and want to give a kid a moment of magic this year
It's one of those things that the post office just happened to be positioned to do, and ended up knocking it out of the park. Unfortunately, I don't think they advertise this nearly well enough, and most letters end up going unanswered
Hopefully, a few more will be answered this year
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juniepops · 1 year ago
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Getting a letter in the mail that says “I hope a piano falls on you like in looney tunes” and I start wailing and ripping my hair out then put a RETURN TO SENDER stamp on the letter and hand it to a procession of fully armed military operatives <- this is making fun of the tumblr ceo who banned a trans woman upset about her prolonged untreated harassment and said he would call the fbi on her because she made a post wishing he’d get hit with hammers
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humanityinahandbag · 4 months ago
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I've explored the idea of Eddie being married to Steve without knowing it before in a story before (you can read it here), but in that one, Eddie and Steve have been together for years and Eddie is just so completely blinded by pining that he doesn't know how serious the relationship is.
So now I'd like to put forth a different take on this trope for the steddie court's approval.
Steve, who is so incensed by homophobia for his best friend, Robin, that he decides to protest against Reagan by getting married to Eddie.
The only issue? Eddie has zero clue.
Steve got certified in the mail to be an officiant. Claudia works at city hall and isn't sure why Steve wanted a marriage license, but figured he'd helped Dustin so many times that she could help out with one little favor. And Steve figures that customers in Family Video, while not totally aware, count as witnesses.
So he picks a morning where the sun is shining in an especially Fuck Reagan sort of way, gets dressed in his best polo shirt and jeans, styles his hair, and goes to work.
To be clear; Steve does not think that this is legally binding.
He's thinking that this will be a fun sort of protest souvenir to show Robin. Like "Hey, bestie, soulmate, light of my life! Tack this on the wall! I'm technically gay married to my other best friend, so fuck the haters!"
And to also be clear; he knows Eddie is gay as well. No one told him. But he sees the way Eddie looks at him. He knows Eddie's got a crush (though he doesn't know that said crush has been around since reign as King Steve). Steve knows Love.
He also knows that Eddie unlocked a whole world of bisexuality for him. In fact, he's been putting the moves on Eddie for weeks now.
Eddie is just... so shy and flustered and nervous.
Thankfully, Steve is great at romance. He can seduce. He can use the Harrington Techniques.
And he thinks that a fake marriage license might be just the ice breaker to show Eddie. Proof that he's not homophobic. So much so that he's into dudes. Maybe even get in a good laugh. Get Eddie to chill out and stop acting so skittish and just let Steve kiss him already.
(And maybe, yunno, let Steve do other things to him that probably involve candles and flowers and maybe some smooth jazz).
So to Steve, this is a two for one solution.
He gets to protest homophobia with a fake marriage license for his best friend Robin, and he gets to show the guy he likes (and who likes him back) that he's totally into him with a cute little down with Reagan ice breaker.
It's a win win for everyone.
So one day, when Eddie comes into Family Video, the poor metalhead very nearly dies on the spot when Steve, smile bright enough to light a room, pushes a paper towards him and asks him to sign.
And Eddie, lovestruck and beside himself, doesn't even register what Steve is saying. Steve is perfect and wonderful and funny and smart, and he's asking Eddie to sign something, and Eddie barely even looks down at the document before he's scribbling his name.
Steve does explain. Of course he does.
Eddie just... isn't really listening.
He does however listen when Steve asks Eddie out at the end of his shift and Steve gets to watch the other boy turn pink as a summer sky when he says yes.
And that's that.
Steve has a first date to look forward to and a fake marriage certificate to turn in. He gives the paper back to Claudia and asks if she can stamp it. Make it look real. He'll frame it when he gets it back.
The issue is, Claudia is really good at her job. And Hawkins is currently experiencing the aftermath of a Diet Apocalypse and doesn't notice the fine details of everything moving through their local government. So the paperwork processes; laws be damned.
It's definitely a fun surprise when Steve opens the mail one day (before he's even gotten to take Eddie out), and finds out that he's somehow, legally, the first gay marriage in Indiana. Or most of the United States, really.
Which is... definitely something.
But Steve loves Love. And so he processes the news pretty quick and then walks into work with the energy of an especially confused but cheerful golden retriever. "Hey, Robin!" he'd say, reading through the letter again. "You remember how I made that marriage license for you?"
She laughs fondly. "Yeah, dingus. It was sweet."
"Anything for you," he says, sincerely. And then; "You remember how I'm going to take Eddie out? And you agree? You think he likes me back?"
She snorts. "He's totally obsessed with you. I'm pretty sure we've skipped a few stages over like and moved right onto love."
Which is great. Because when Steve falls, he falls hard. He's a guy who loves Love. It's great to find someone who loves him back the way he wants!
"Awesome," beams Steve. "So do you think I should tell him we're actually legally married before or after I take him to the movies?"
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mariacallous · 8 months ago
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anon bc im not trying to get super targeted but i work in passports for DOS and i wanted to let you or anyone who doesn’t have a passport, or whose ppt is expired, or who has theirs expiring—right now (typically october to feb) is our slow season, so if you apply now, you will likely get your passport in, like, a couple weeks (depending). in fact, from things i’m hearing through the union grapevine (we are unionized!), more work in now would be helpful for us as we head into the transition.
as others have said, you can change the gender marker on your passport without any documentation! we have an X you can choose in lieu of M or F! (major) name changes do require a court ordered name change order.
you can renew online IF your most recent ppt was a 10 year book (aka you weren’t a minor) and you’re not trying to change your name or anything.
if you’re renewing by mail (you can use a regular stamp and envelope) be sure to SIGN THE APPLICATION! DO NOT E-SIGN AND PRINT! this is one of the most common things we have to send apps back for. make sure you follow the photo guidelines (another common issue—yes, the background needs to be white and have no patterns, no, you can’t wear a headband, yes religious headwear is allowed, just send in a note saying that’s what it is).
fill out everything to the best of your ability; this helps us process your app quickly.
this has been a psa from your terrified but determined fed drone
.
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celestialgalaxyglow · 2 months ago
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Batfam and Danny, Part 34
The next day, Wayne Manor.
Damian: Everyone I have an announcement to make. Everyone turned to look at Damian. I- Damian looked at Danny who smiled and nodded. Last night Jon asked to court me and I have accepted.
Steph: Oh my goodness! Congratulations!
Tim: A Kent! You have good taste little guy!
Alfred: Jon is a respectable young man, he'd make a good addition to the family some day.
Bruce: [processing new information]
Dick: My little brother is in love!
Jason (to Danny): You already knew didn't you?
Danny (to Jason): They got together last night on during the gala, I saw them wondering off and wanted to make sure they didn't get into trouble and accidently saw them confessing to each other.
Cass (signing): I think we should invite the Kents for dinner.
Duke: That'd be fun! Ma Kent's cooking is amazing- not to say your cooking is any lesser Alfred.
Alfred: Pay me no mind Master Duke, I consider Martha my equal in the kitchen.
Bruce (having processed the new information): Jon is a good match for you Damian.
Damian (blushing): Well that is all, let us continue with our breakfast.
Meanwhile at the Kent Farm.
Jon: Everyone I have an news! Everyone turned to Jon. Damian and I started dating!
Lois: Congratulations my dear!
Kara: I knew it! You two will make a great match.
Kon: Waynes and Kents, a match made in Heaven.
Pa Kent: We must all gather for a dinner to celebrate.
Ma Kent: I'll call Alfred. Jon I assume Damian is telling his family about your relationship.
Jon: Yes.
Octavia: Our little sunshine cousin and the Waynes' little assassin.
Oscar: Opposites attract I guess.
Clark: Oh Bruce must be loving this, some day we'll be in-laws two times over.
Kara: Define "loving."
Lois: I'm sure Bruce will be over the moon.
Ma Kent: That's enough, there's no need to make of your friend. Besides today's about Jon.
Jon (blushing): I- no! Let's just eat.
A few hours later at the Justice League Watchtower
Clark: Hey Bruce.
Bruce: Morning Clark.
Clark: Did Damian tell you anything interesting this morning?
Bruce: Jon told you that they're dating?
Clark: Yeah.
Bruce: I'm happy from them.
Clark: They make a cute couple.
Bruce: They do.
Clark: Anyways you owe me an interview.
Bruce (confused): Since when do I owe you an interview?
Clark (smug): Since I allowed your little copy date my beautiful son.
Bruce (offended): Excuse you, if anything YOU owe ME an interview for letting YOUR little copy date MY beautiful son!
Clark: 1pm tomorrow work for you?
Bruce: Yes, 60 minutes.
Clark: Good, see ya then.
Bruce: See ya.
Oliver: What just happened?
Arthur: I have no idea...
Later that night, Wayne Manor, Damian's room.
Damian: I should write to mother and grandfather about my courtship...
Damian sat on his table and got out a letter and a quill.
---
Dear mother and grandfather,
I write to inform you that I have entered into a courtship with my dearest friend Jon. I consider our partnership to a good one that some day will bring great honor to the House al Ghul. I hope that you two will be supportive of my decision in this venture.
I'd also like to inform you that Alfred and Mrs. Kent have started talking about a joint family dinner in honor of Jon and my courtship, while no date as yet been determined I wish to extend an invitation to you both and would be most happy if both of you could attend.
Your son/grandson Damian Wayne al Ghul.
---
Damian: That's good enough.
Damian folded the letter and placed it in an envelop, sealed it, and placed a stamp on it.
Damian: It's late, I'll leave it in the mail tomorrow.
(Master Post)
Otho-Ra = Octavia
Osul-Ra = Oscar
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cripplecharacters · 2 months ago
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Thank you so much for this blog. Can I take a moment to ask the rest of your followers to please stop using it to ask for *permission* to write whatever they're trying to write? On every ask that starts with "can I write XYZ?", I just wanna grab the asker by the shoulders and ask back "what do you think is going to happen if you do?"
Since there's no ableism police going around inspecting amateur creative projects, this is really a poorly worded version of "is this bad/ableist/problematic/gonna get me cancelled/punished?", with an undercurrent of "am I bad? Am I a bad person? Please reassure me that I'm not a bad person", which is a hell of a lot to drop on a handful of strangers online who can only ever give you a bit of information and their own biased personal opinions.
I swear I'm not trying to be a jerk about this. It's good that so many people want to depict disability in fiction beyond flat stereotypes. But it's incredibly hard to create *anything* with this level of anxiety and craving for approval. It's sooo much better to be driven by playful curiosity. Learn to love research! Don't underestimate your capacity for critical thinking! Dare to form your own opinions! The worst that can (and will) happen is that you'll be wrong and make mistakes. Big deal.
I also invite everyone to get further along in the writing process before running to consult here. Writing is rewriting, and it's easier to rewrite what's already on the page than toy with hypothetical ideas forever. Tumblr jokes a lot about the mere existence of bad pieces of writing being "a hate crime", but let's get real. Your accidentally ableist first draft is not an act of violence, and treating it that way is not disability advocacy or activism or helpful to anyone.
Sorry if this ended up too long or verbose. What do you mods think? Agree/disagree?
I can't speak for the other mods but I mostly agree TBH.
There's much more to writing disabled characters than just getting a "stamp of approval" that what you're doing "is OK". And it's not that it's bad to consult others to make sure you're not being ableist (it isn't), but a good disabled character can't just be a character that's Not Offensive.
They should be well researched, they should be interesting, and they shouldn't just be there to be "good disabled rep". They should be a character, not a diversity quota to fill.
I've addressed the whole "no one is actually going to Cancel You if you write something ableist" in one of my older posts about writing characters with facial differences because it's true. One billion movies and series and comics come out every year and a ton of them are ableist, and I promise you no one is getting "cancelled" over having a villain with a scar.
I stopped answering those "is it ok if my villain is deformed and scarred?!??" asks because they don't really add anything, they're usually not looking to change anything or learn anything, they just want a Cripple's Stamp of Approval. And that's not going to result in a good character, ever, it's just like showing a thumbs up to a writer that it's OK for them to write this offensive thing. What's the point? If you want to write it so bad, just do it... There is no Council of Disfigured People that will cancel you and take your house. You don't need my permission to write a generic evil disfigured guy and I'm not going to grant it. If you don't want to actually learn or change anything, there's no point in asking.
As I said, that's my opinion and not necessarily representative of the other mods on the blog.
mod Sasza
As to my opinion I largely agree. You (the general you, not you specifically asker, which is what I will mean in this whole ask when I say 'you') can write whatever you want and no one will send you a certified letter by mail that says you are Cancelled or a Bad Person or whatever.
We just want people to do research and put thought behind what they're writing. To think about why things are considered ableist, by us or by anyone else. And we want people to make disabled characters be characters and not just a Trope.
We as a mod team, but also as just regular people, can't or control what anyone does or doesn't write/draw/do. No one can. If you want to write something we hate, then do it. We won't stop you. We can't. We just won't like it, but if you're that committed to writing what you're writing, you can live with that, or at least you should. Someone's specific piece of art/writing/etc won't change our minds on what we've previously stated. No, not even yours. But you can do it if you really want to because that's how being an individual person works.
mod sparrow
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dear-ao3 · 6 months ago
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how to get f1 driver cards, a guide for mclaren, mercedes and williams (more to come)
im going to start by saying that there is a high high chance not everything on this is accurate. for some reason this is a stupidly complex process and i am just trying my best :)
what are driver cards? every year (most) teams have cards made of their drivers with their pictures and sometimes stats and fun facts, etc. they change every year and are collectible. theyre free, technically, as long as you pay for the postage.
ive sent away for some of them before, and those are the teams i have included as i know these ones work. will add more teams on as i attempt others this year.
MERCEDES
objectively this is the easiest one to get. you fill out an online form and if you are lucky you will get cards sent to you. the form is live for the 2025 cards as of me posting this.
beware: the address form is formatted for UK addresses only for some reason. if you are trying to send to the US with an address that is two lines (ie, a street address with an apartment number or a po box) there is a good chance it wont work. i have gotten it to work for street addresses only (both attempts to have them sent to an apartment address failed). this one also took the longest, several months.
all other teams require a double envelope, stamp and letter situation.
very basically, you address an envelope to the team and put yourself as the return address. it needs a stamp (domestic if the team is in your country, international if it is not)
write a letter to the team, something along the lines of "dear x team, i am a big fan of you and your drivers x and y and i like watching you / rooting for you for xyz reasoning (etc etc). i was wondering if i could get the 20xx drivers cards? thanks (name)." it doesnt have to be super fancy.
put this letter in the envelope along with another a5 size folded envelope addressed to yourself (this is the envelope that the team will send your cards in, make sure it is the right size and also has your correct address.
the a5 envelope also needs a stamp and here is where it gets a little tricky. if the team is based in the same country you are you use a domestic stamp. if you are Not in the same country as the team this is the terribly fun (read: tricky) part.
you can either include the pounds/euros needed to buy a stamp in the envelope or you can purchase an international stamp from that country and use that. i have gone the stamp route before (ordered royal mail stamps off of British amazon) and it worked. i put five second class barcoded stamps on each envelope and they came back to me okay. (could also use first class stamps, i dont remember why i ended up choosing the second class ones) (you have to check the stamp prices and make sure that the total stamp costs equal how much it costs to send a letter internationally (second class stamps are 85p as of me writing this and it costs 2.80 pounds to mail a letter internationally from the uk to the us specifically (all of this is findable on the royal mail site) so i would put 4 or 5 stamps to be safe per envelope in case stamp prices rise again)
put that whole folded envelope and your letter in your addressed envelope to the team and mail it out.
MCLAREN
they seem to be pretty responsive. i got my card for mclaren within i think 2 or 3 months. be extra careful when addressing your envelopes to the uk, the seven letter/ number combination is the most important and should be the most legible thing. i think this is formatted correctly. (again, im from the us. uk addresses confuse the hell out of me)
address:
FAO: Autograph Cards McLaren Technology Centre Chertsey Road Woking GU21 4YH UK
WILLIAMS
again, they were pretty responsive. i think i got mine in 2 or 3 months. my envelope was the wrong size for this team but they sent me the cards anyway in a different size envelope. again, really make sure that your seven number/letter thing is clear. there both a O and 0 in it so i would put a slash through the 0.
address:
Fan Mail Williams Grand Prix Engineering Grove Wantage Oxfordshire OX12 0DQ UK
fun little note: my sister and i both sent away for mclaren and williams last year. despite them having the Exact Same Addresses and being sent from The Exact Same Post Office on the Exact Same Day, my mclaren one was returned to sender for the reason unable to be delivered. my sister got her mclaren card in the mail the next week. and i got my williams card but my sisters got returned to sender for the reason of unable to be delivered. i have absolutely no idea why. not remotely. i resent both of them and had no problems the second time around.
good luck. its kinda challenging but it is fun. im going to try to send off for more this year so ill provide more advice once i figure it out but as for now, i know these ones work. i would wait until the start of the season to mail any requests, though fill out the mercedes one sooner if you want that :)
and, proof that i got my driver cards and im not just making this up:
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loveyhoons · 10 months ago
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YOU’RE MINE⋆✴︎˚。⋆ | s.jh
pairing: sim jaeyun x f!reader
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genre: tatbilb! inspired, fake relationship!
synopsis: when you and jake get into an argument, you decide to get over your fear of driving by yourself and tell him how much he means to you
featuring: jake & sunoo of enhypen, ej from &team
word count: 3.0k words
warnings: cussing, kissing
author’s note: hi everyone, long time no see 😭👍🏼 i decided to put out a little au for you all since i have not published something in a while! rest assured, i hope to get my other fics out hopefully very soon, but i am currently still in the process of writing them!!
if you watched tatbilb this is loosely inspired by that movie, i recently rewatched it and was like let me write something up
hope you all like this one :)
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You stopped at the red light, tapping your fingers back and forth on the steering wheel.
You hated driving when you didn’t need to-more like when you weren’t alone either.
You constantly looked back and forth on your side mirrors, hoping the light would turn green soon. You did not know whether it was the cup of coffee you had this morning or that talk you had with your older sister’s ex-boyfriend EJ yesterday afternoon but it all seemed to snowball to this very moment.
Scratch that, it all was valid reasons why you were feeling this way- more specifically why you were feeling all these things for one person.
Jake Sim.
It all started in October last year when you both agreed to mutually get into a fake relationship.
With your younger sister sending out all your love letters in the mail (that were supposed to be kept a secret), you were in deep trouble.
According to her, she wanted your life to have some spice in it-whatever that meant. Well, what you didn’t know was that when you almost backed up and almost hit Jake on the first day of school, she immediately thought she could give you a little push. And with his name matching up with one of the letters she so happened to see in that little teal box, she knew what had to be done.
You remember running laps in PE, trying to ignore the sunlight and get the period over with. You stopped out of nowhere hearing Jake call your name. You turned around, seeing him walk over towards you, leaving you behind as your classmates ran ahead, getting further and further away.
As soon as you saw a letter in his hand, you felt your heart race. You recognized the pink paper and saw it was accompanied by a brown envelope- one with a forever stamp that had a blue bird on it, the design you ever so remember: it was the one you used for all your love letters at that spur of the moment you had back in freshman year.
Whenever you had a crush so intense to the point you felt like your heart was about to be ripped out of your chest, you wrote love letters. You remembered storing the letters in the teal box your Mom gave to you shortly before she passed.
You thought that keeping it safe inside the box was like a metaphor in a sense. The teal box was like your heart. It saved all these bottled up emotions you knew that you would keep and never reveal even in a million years.
But, it all went wrong once it got into the hands of those 5 guys you wrote to.
EJ your sister’s ex who happened to be your neighbor.
Heeseung Lee from summer camp.
Jake Sim from seventh grade.
Beomgyu Choi, your homecoming date in freshman year.
and Sunghoon Park from Model UN.
You mumbled to yourself, trying to decipher if this was real or reality. You then passed out and felt like you were in a dream.
A very bad dream.
Jake ran towards you, unsure of what to do. You slowly woke up, hearing the worried tone of his voice as soon as you opened your eyes.
You remembered sitting up as Jake bombarded you with questions asking if you needed water or needed to go to the nurse’s office.
And out of nowhere, EJ then appeared walking from where Jake came from, also holding a love letter in his hands. As he came down towards you, you gulped, immediately freaking out.
You kissed Jake out of nowhere as soon as EJ called out your name, immediately earning yourself an extra lap to run after.
Jake was shocked-well the both of you were. You could not believe you did that and was baffled over the whole situation.
What you didn’t know was that this would all be the start of your little contract.
Jake just broke up with his ex girlfriend a month prior to school starting. His ex was also your old best friend from middle school.
It was in the 7th grade when you both had a huge fight that would then lead to you breaking things off.
You all were at a mutual friend’s birthday party. It was a classic game of spin the bottle and the bottle landed on you then on Jake. Your mutual friend dared you to kiss Jake on the cheek.
And little did you know your best friend had a huge crush on him. And that was the end of your friendship. She just left you and you still wondered why it even happened.
With the both of you needing a favor from each other (Jake thought this could be something you would do in return for that kiss), you both agreed to make Jake’s ex jealous and you agreed to keep it up in order for EJ to not talk to you.
You really couldn’t face him at all after what happened, especially with your sister. You were at the last resort of options and decided to make a whole contract with Jake.
Anyways, it only really was supposed to be until the annual ski trip in December before winter break…right?
You would then hold hands in school, have the love letters you ever so wanted written to you, and the recreation of scenes from classic romantic comedies you loved watching with your sisters on those warm summer nights.
Jake would spin you around, give you the biggest back hugs, and wear your scrunchies on his wrist even if you weren’t there physically with him.
“What’s this?” You ask Jake as you hold the folded piece of paper in your hands. You unfolded it, seeing a paragraph on the top half.
He smiled, pointing towards it. “Your daily love letters Y/L/N.”
You read the cheesy paragraph to yourself, smiling. You looked up to him, trying not to giggle. “Who knew you were so good at writing?”
“It’s only for you.” Jake nodded his head. “You ask and you shall receive.”
It felt nice. You hated to admit you liked it. Maybe it was the fact you never had a boyfriend or the way you always so wished to experience what it would feel like to live in your own little romantic comedy.
But at the same time, you felt a wave of sadness knowing it was just all for show.
You knew things would end with Jake eventually and this would all be a nice dream you’d have to wake up to. He would eventually be back with his ex and your relationship would just be another silly thing that would slowly fade from your memory.
You felt like shit too, hiding this all from your older sister knowing you told her everything beforehand. After she left for her study abroad to France, you had no idea how to tell her about Jake or what was going on between you and EJ.
You felt overwhelmed, unsure of what to do.
And then the annual Ski trip came around and when things really started to become a bit different for you both.
You realized you fell for Jake and you wanted this relationship to be real. You wanted him-but this time as your actual boyfriend.
And that’s when you heard he was at the swimming pool. And that’s when you both shared a passionate kiss, as he also admitted to falling for you in the process too.
“Fuck, I’m going to look insane.” You mumbled to yourself, taking in a deep breath. You got into the pool, removing your bath robe. Feeling a bit chilly in your nightgown, you quickly went towards Jake. He gulped a little, flustered. He felt his heart race.
“Why didn’t you sit next to me on the bus?” Jake asked as you floated next to him.
“I figured you’d want some alone time with your ex, that’s all.” You replied a bit reluctant.
“But she’s not my girlfriend Y/L/N.” Jake bit his lip. “You are.”
“Jake-”
“I think we need to end the contract now.”
You raised your eyebrow. You could feel the disappointment and the heavy feeling in your chest. Shit, should you even still confess how you really feel?
Jake then grabs your hands as he sighed. “I don’t want to be in a fake relationship, I want us to have a fresh start with each other, I want to make things real. Rip the contract whatever we had written on there doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Wait Jake.” You felt your voice squeak a little in shock. “You’re not joking?”
“No Y/L/N. I really like you. Who were we kidding, getting ourselves into this situation? I feel like I’m just blabbing on and on but I do hope you feel the same.”
You smiled, feeling your cheeks burn. Nodding your head, you then placed your lips on his as he held you closer to him.
As you pulled away, you whispered in a smile. “Don’t worry, I feel exactly the same.”
He wrapped his arms around you as the two of you embraced in another kiss.
You felt like your life was turning for the better after that. You thought you and Jake could just rip up that contract and call it a day as soon as you both got back from the trip.
But things would only crumble from there.
As soon as you got off the bus the day after, Jake’s ex taunted you.
You thought you had lost that scrunchie- the first one you gave to Jake on that first week upon dating.
But why was it on her wrist?
You remember storming off, not even saying bye to Jake, just out of it, baffled as if whatever happened the evening prior felt like nothing even mattered.
Then your sister came home from France and found out about your little letter to EJ (thanks to him interrupting your family dinner on Christmas Eve).
Jake happened to show up at the same time as EJ did and the two ended up almost in a fight. Jake wanted to explain that nothing happened and to apologize for the scrunchie but then EJ bursted out and spoke about how he felt, confused as to why you were dating Jake.
Little did you know your older sister was behind the front door the entire time, accidentally hearing everything from the love letter to you and Jake being in a fake relationship.
She was speechless to say the least. She was disappointed you held everything in and did not tell her anything, telling you, you should not go through anything alone.
You cried on your pillow that evening, not even able to fully process how things went wrong so quickly. You remember feeling defeated and as if the Christmas spirit just washed away the next day.
And to make matters worse as soon as you got back from break, a mysterious person posted a video of you and Jake’s heated moment at the pool.
And you remember storming off on Jake, calling it quits.
It hit you that you may have lost the best person that ever happened to you.
And you didn’t know how to accept losing another important person in your life.
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After you and your older sister worked things out, she was successfully able to get that video off Instagram (thankfully the help center was ever so helpful).
You made amends-somewhat- with Jake’s ex who admitted to posting the video on a burner account. She admitted the whole spin the bottle situation was why you both stopped becoming friends and left you in pure shock.
Even though you did not understand why she could not just tell you in the first place long ago, you accepted it already happened.
You could not just go back in time and undo things, you needed to face what was in front of you.
You eventually worked things out with EJ. You explained everything and apologized for the way you acted.
“Who cares if it was fake?” EJ snickered as he shook his head. He shifted his position a bit on the stair you both sat on. He tried not to laugh, glancing at you. “I could tell it wasn’t fake for you. You had that type of look in your eyes. It reminded me how your sister looked at me when we were together.”
“EJ, you’re funny but I really don’t know anymore.” You replied, hugging your knees.
“If Jake fucks this up, I hope he knows I won’t let him off easily.” EJ snapped. “This is not only for you but also for your sister. I rest my case.”
Your front door then swiftly opened to your younger sister who sat in the middle of you both. She had the teal box in her hands and took off the lid, showing the contents inside.
Instead of those love letters you wrote in the past, it was filled with the love letters that Jake wrote you. All of those letters were stored inside, each folded like how he gave it to you.
“I may have eavesdropped-I didn’t mean to okay.” Your younger sister awkwardly said. She then took one of the letters and held it up. “But I hope this gives you more of a reason to get back with Jake-not that I need a ride to school or anything. Also please, I hate to see you crying over the smallest things. I need him back in our lives. I don’t know if I can stand hearing your bitter thoughts in every romcom we watch now any longer.”
You looked at your sister in utter shock.
“The kid has spoken.” EJ smiled as he stood up. He then cooed, looking towards you. “It’s up to you now whether or not you want to put it in action.”
Now here you are on a Sunday afternoon, driving to the school campus to find Jake.
You texted his friend Sunoo in the morning who also was on the soccer team with him.
It turned out the team had practice on the weekends as the soccer season was starting once again. Sunoo texted you right after practice ended and said that Jake should still be there as practice ended a bit later than expected.
So you grabbed your keys as soon as Sunoo texted back, immediately driving out of your driveway and onto the road.
Jake was left behind according to Sunoo as it was his turn to put the soccer balls back into the large shed by the PE locker rooms.
This was the first time you drove by yourself.
That fear of yours didn’t seem to matter at all in the moment.
You just needed to make sure you would make it before Jake would leave. You could not keep your feelings to yourself anymore.
You pulled into the right school parking lot and parked your car in one of the empty spots. You got out quickly and pressed the lock button on your car keys, immediately running towards the field.
As you walked into the campus and straight to the field, you panted for a little. You stopped at the field entrance, scanning the area for Jake.
You then spotted him, putting the soccer balls into the large bags towards the sides by the left bleachers. You ran again and called out his name, going straight towards him.
Jake turned towards your direction and turned his head slightly, making sure he wasn’t hearing things.
You then stopped in front of him and sighed. “Holy shit, I feel like I’m in PE.”
“Did you drive here…alone?” Jake asked in shock as you nodded your head. He put down the bag of soccer balls, kicking it towards the side.
“Yes. I drove here alone.” You said a bit out of breath as you walked closer to him. “That’s not important right now.”
“Y/N, what’s going on?”
“I’ll just- you know what, I’ll just say whatever I am feeling right now.” You looked at him and started to speak, feeling your voice break a little. “Jake I’m so sorry for not texting you the past few weeks and for ignoring you. I just needed time to think things out.” You sighed. “I am so sorry I didn’t work things out and just left you in the dark. I realized through all of this that I want you. I want us. I want to fight for you like you did for me this entire time. I want to experience the good and bad times with you. I just want you here,
I want you with me.”
Jake’s eyes widened as his lips pursed into a smile. “I’m sorry too. I swear we didn’t do anything with each other and I feel stupid for not getting back your scrunchie and just letting her do whatever she wanted to do. I just- after you going no contact with me I didn’t know what to do then with the video being posted. Fuck, I didn’t mean for that to happen either.”
What’s done is done. I am leaving that in the past.” You replied. “I just wanted to get it out of my chest whatever I’m feeling because truthfully I like you a lot Jake. I understand if you don’t want to get back together- I just want you to know so I can get closure- we can get closure, heck I think I just got over my fear of driving alone.”
“Woah slow down you’re getting ahead of yourself!” Jake chuckled, trying to calm you down.“Sunoo sorta told me you texted him this morning…I was kind of expecting you.”
Your eyes widened in shock. “He wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
Jake cupped your cheeks in his hands and sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”
You intently looked up at him as he clicked his tongue. “There is no way I am letting you go L/Y/N. We will make this work I am sure of it. You think I would really let you go after what happened in the seventh grade?”
“Not you mentioning it again, I can’t believe you still remember that…” You shook your head in embarrassment.
“I’m just telling the truth.” Jake said defensively as you smiled. He then took a deep breath and asked,”Now, the real question is… can I be your boyfriend-like your real one?”
You smiled, nodding your head. “Didn’t need to ask, I'm all yours.”
Jake pulled you in for a kiss as you moved in, standing closer towards him. And you stayed like that for a little while, relieved that you found your way back to him.
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© loveyhoons , 2024
landing page | masterlist
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hotcupoteckla · 14 days ago
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If you can't make it to No Kings Protest, here's some things you Can do!
* Go to your library and find the postcard writing station to keep Inter Library Loans & that funding available.
- this was funded by the Institute of Museums and Library Services (IMLS, which was Doge'd right after POTUS fired LOC's head of staff) and per announcement from Minnesota Services, South Dakotas ILL services have already shut down due to lack of funding.
The library might even be sending the postcards out for you, but tell your representatives where to stick their budget cutting habits , and how important libraries & museums are to you.
* call your reps & mail them about how you believe in the No Kings protest and why
* do what you can to help the protestors - spread peaceful protest videos on the internet, and don't spread false or ai videos. Confirm your sources and Post your Sources on the social media's.
* if someone seems to need help near your house, check on them and assist if it is safe for you to do so.
* don't call the police on anyone unless your life is being actively threatened (which should be the default level)
* if someone is being threatened by police in front of you, observe safely until it is apparent someone is in need of immediate assistance.
Definitely call 911 on the police acting out of line, they might get called off or get called by a superior officer & be forced to de-escalate themselves & situation.
* know where you are, lead any 911 calls with your location and your name and what kind of help you need.
* show solidarity with protestors. If anyone calls them names or implies they're rioters, tell that person you no longer wish to have this line of conversation with them; you believe in the Constitutional Rights of all Americans for 1st amendment and due process.
Sanction bad behavior through social exclusion where needed, and advise what they can do to get in your good graces.
* buy stamps and postcards from local offices/shops and be ready to send "RESIGN NOW" cards to the White House
* encourage anyone who complains about Trump and ask them when the last time they had a break from the news turmoil was
* send letters into your local news stations/editors about their coverage and point out their biases.
*send Trump a "You Stink" birthday card.
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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 43
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Azriel x Reader Fic
Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.
Find other parts here: Master List
To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.
Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.
Word Count: 4.4K
Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.
Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.
The Townhouse was enveloped in a tranquil stillness. Seated at the elegant dining room table, you were surrounded by scattered papers and blueprints of grandiose city plans. Maps of once-glorious buildings, now fallen into decay, lay alongside deeds, titles, and contract agreements waiting to be scrutinized. Despite the overwhelming workload that would keep you occupied well into the evening, the peacefulness was a comforting companion. You had been sitting for so long that your hips now protested with a persistent ache, and the ice in your tea had long since melted, diluting the bright golden liquid into a murky brown. Frustrated, you leaned back in your chair and ran a hand through your hair, causing your meticulously drawn notes and diagrams on the map to scatter and fall to the floor. None of it seemed to make sense - there simply wasn't enough space in any of the buildings on your list to accommodate all the families in need of housing. With a resigned sigh, you closed your eyes and reclined against the intricately carved wooden back of the chair, feeling the strain on your neck begin to ease.
The creaky metal of the mail slot clanged open, its rusty hinges protesting. Letters cascaded down onto the foyer carpet with a soft thud, and then the slot shut again with a metallic clang. Your head tilted to the side. From your vantage point in the dining room, you could see through the open door to the hallway, where an array of papers lay scattered on the floor. You stretched your arms high above your head, feeling your spine crackle as you arched left and right in an effort to loosen your stiffening joints. With a push against the table, you rose up and twisted your neck, trying to release any remaining tension. As you made your way towards the hallway, your bare feet sunk into the soft, plush rugs that lined the floors of the Townhouse. Leaning down, you picked up the pile of mail and began to sift through it. Letter after letter addressed to you from various Pleasure Maker’s applying for support and accommodation. Each one elicited a mixture of both excitement and trepidation.
As you sorted through the stack of letters, one caught your eye with its pristine appearance. The envelope gleamed in the light, adorned with a single golden maple leaf wax stamp in the corner. Your name was elegantly written in thin, flowing handwriting. Intrigued, you furrowed your brow as you gathered the other letters in your arm and reached for this one. Sliding a finger under the flap, you carefully pulled out the contents written on delicate paper with the same thin pen.
My esteemed daughter,
I extend my well wishes to you, though I pen this letter with a perhaps unpleasant request. It has been brought to my attention by Caelum, a distinguished male of the Night Court, that you and he are mated. Your impeccable taste has not gone unnoticed and I would like to congratulate you on finding yourself mated to someone of such strength and charm. It is expected that your union with Caelum will produce many wonderful heirs for our Court.
However, it seems that there has been a misunderstanding, leading you to purposely avoid his presence. While I trust that this is simply an oversight on your part, I must insist that you return to your rightful place at the Autumn Court immediately. Not only does Caelum grieve over your absence, but as your father and nobility within the court, I cannot tolerate any deviation from the path set by the Mother for our people.
Nevertheless, I hold no ill will towards you for any perceived misstep, and I am committed to rectifying the situation. I am aware that your upbringing has not been within the walls of the Court, but being young and undeniably influenced by your past experiences, I cannot hold you entirely accountable for your actions. However, it is now time to rectify this mistake.
Do keep me informed of your plans, though they should involve returning to fulfill your duties as an heir to our esteemed court and future mother of heirs. Your compliance in this matter is non-negotiable.
Awaiting your swift return,
Your Father, Philip Vanserra
Your hands shook uncontrollably as you read and reread the letter, your heartbeat quickening with each passing moment. Your blood boiled with anger and fear as you struggled to calm your trembling lips. How could Caelum know about Philip? Had you been too careless lately in keeping your walls against Caelum up? What other details did he know? The thought sent shivers down your spine. And now, Caelum was using it against you in a twisted attempt to lure you back home. You felt bile rise in your throat at the mere idea of it. There was no way you would fulfill his request, but even worse, there was no telling what lengths Philip would go to in order to make you comply. You frantically checked the clock, knowing that Azriel would be home soon. But the thought of being alone with your racing thoughts for even a few more hours made you want to scream.
You were practically tripping over yourself as you descended the steps of the Townhouse in haste. Your feet hitting the pathway to the street with a resounding thus. The letter was clutched so tightly in your hand that your knuckles turned white. Each step heavier than the last, your footsteps echoed through Velaris as you made your way to the edge of the city. The vibrant shops and colorful buildings blurred past as you raced towards the River House. Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of your chest as you ran down the pathway and up the grand stairs of the manor. Your fists pounded on the door with such force that they stung and throbbed, but you barely registered the pain. You waited, hands shaking uncontrollably as your throat constricted with each passing second. Every breath was a struggle, like you were drowning on land. Sweat dripped down your back, making your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin. You couldn't stop fidgeting, shifting from foot to foot as you tried to find some semblance of calm amidst the chaos inside you. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs and you were about to pass out, yet at the same time, an overwhelming urge to run away gnawed at your insides. Your stomach churned with a mix of nausea and fear, threatening to make you sick right then and there. Tears welled up in your eyes, burning hot against your skin as they threatened to spill over at any moment. You needed someone else to know about this, anyone, before it suffocated you entirely.
As the heavy door swung open, Elain's kind face came into view, a tea towel thrown over her shoulder and an apron tied around her waist. The immediate smile on her lips twisted into concern as she took in your disheveled appearance. "Y/N," she gasped, her eyes widening with worry, "What's going on? What's happened?"
You tried to speak, but the words became jumbled and incoherent as sobs shook your body. Elain stepped closer, her hands reaching out to steady you. "Just breathe," she cooed softly, trying to calm your racing thoughts.
But you couldn't slow down. Every part of you was trembling and shaking as you struggled to get the words out. Tears streamed down your face, hot and wet against your cheeks.
Elain continued to hold your gaze, searching for answers in your frantic eyes. "Honey, I can't understand you," she said gently, placing a hand on your arm. "Please just take a breath."
Elain's eyes flickered towards the letter in your hand before returning to yours. "Y/N," she whispered gently, "Sit down." With her hand still resting on your arm, she guided you down to the floor, her long dress pooling around her knees as she knelt beside you. Your body hit the ground with a thud as you fell to your knees in front of her, tears pouring down your cheeks as you begged and pleaded for some sort of relief or answer.
Elain pressed her forehead against yours, trying to soothe you with her calming presence. She wrapped her hand around the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as she took deep, exaggerated breaths. You struggled to match her rhythm at first, but slowly, your breathing began to synchronize with hers, and your heart rate started to slow.
“Good.” She whispered. “Just keep breathing.” You felt your body heave up and down in synch with your breaths as you opened your eyes, looking into Elain’s gentle gaze. “Good job.” You stayed like that for a moment, protected in Elain’s arms and gentle embrace as she pulled you in for a hug. “Just calm down.” She leaned back, brushing year hair that was hot and wet away from your face. “Let’s go inside.” She whispered, smiling lightly. You nodded, whimpering slightly as she helped you to your feet.
As you crossed through the entrance into the foyer of the River House you realized suddenly that in your haste to get there you hadn’t put shoes on. You looked down to see your feet, reddened and raw, bleeding slightly as Elain urged you forwards. You paused, stammering slightly, “I’m so sorry, I’m-”
Elain looked down at your feet and then back to your face, “Don’t worry about that.” She cooed. “It will wash out. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You felt terrible, each step leaving splatters of blood behind you as you continued down the hall to the sitting room. “Feyre!” Elain called out. “Feyre, come here!” She called again.
“Just a second!” Feyre’s voice echoed out from the upstairs balcony.
“Now.” Elain called back, rather firmly.
Elain led you into the sitting room, her arm still linked in yours supporting your body as she sat you on the velvet couch. As you almost collapsed down into it, still breathing shakily, Elain dropped to the floor in front of you, pulling the towel from her shoulder and wrapping it around your bleeding feet. “Just keep breathing.” Elain reminded you as you tried to take a few more breaths.
Feyre rounded the corner into the sitting room, “Elain what did you-” but she stopped as soon as she saw her sister sitting on front of you and your own distressed face. “What’s going on?” Feyre asked, taking a few steps into the room.
Elain turned to her sister only giving her a swift command to bring warm water, towels and bandages. Feyre turned on her heel, her footsteps retreated as Elain turned back to you, smiling softly, “Let’s get these cleaned up first and then we can talk.” She whispered. You nodded as Feyre returned, a bowl of steaming water, a heap of towels and two rolls of gauze. She dropped to her sisters side and the two began working in tandem, taking the rags, dipping them into the water and wiping your wounded feet. Each rag coming away almost blackened with dirt and blood. The two continued until the rags pulled away only slightly pink before wrapping them in the bandages. Feyre brought an ottoman in from the adjoining library, propping your feet up onto it as you winced slightly.
Elain stood, wiping her hands on her apron as Feyre turned to look at her sister. “What’s going on?” She asked looking between the two of your. Elain looked at you, assessing if you were in a state to answer, her eyes glancing to the piece of parchment still clenched in your hands.
You tried to steady your breathing more as you swallowed. Finally it seemed you were able to get words out, “I got a letter.” You started, “From Philip.”
Feyre’s expression darkened, her attention now fully on the letter.
“He knows about Caelum.” You managed to choke out, feeling fear rising in your throat once again.
Feyre stood reaching a hand out. “Can I see the it?” She asked tenderly.
You nodded, holding an unsteady hand out as you released the paper to her. Your fingers ached and you realized you’d gripped it so tightly your nails had dug into your palms and made them bleed. Feyre took the blood splattered document as Elain brought a rag down to your palm, rinsing it gingerly. Feyre opened the letter eyes racing over it with an emotionless facade. When she finished she looked up to you and asked, “Does anyone else know about this?”
You shook your head no, and Elain’s worried gaze shifted between you and her sister. Without hesitation Feyre declared, “I’m going to get Rhys here.” She then turned to Elain and added, “And I’m going to take Nyx to the studio for now, just to get him out of the house. Can you stay here with Y/N?”
Elain offered to take Nyx herself but Feyre shook her head. "No, I'll winnow him there. It'll be faster." She turned to call out for Nyx and called over her shoulder she would get Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel, and that Elain should call Lucien to come down as soon as possible. While her own voice remained calm and collected you could sense the urgency with which she spoke and you worked hard to keep from completely falling apart again.
Elain took a seat on the couch next to you, having still not read the letter, she hadn’t a clue what all of this was about, but her concern was more focused on how you were doing than on the circumstances that brought you there. “Can I get you anything?” She asked quietly, “Water? Tea? Something to eat?”
You shook your head, unable to even think about eating or drinking in this moment.
You didn’t hear Azriel enter the house as much as felt it, like a storm coming across calm waters. You heard the door open with a slam, as though it had fallen from it’s hinges and the entire house seemed to shy away from the force that had entered. You heard Rhysand calling out Azriel’s name, attempting to calm him down, but as the heavy, purposeful footsteps came down the hall, and Azriel turned into the room, you knew there would be no calming the rage behind his eyes. Azriel’s shadows whispered around him as though his own anger was causing them to be frantic and disrupted as he crossed the room to you, his eyes heavy with concern. Azriel immediately stopped by your side, dropping down into a crouch to your feet, still propped up on the ottoman as he inspected the bandages. “What happened?” He asked, his voice breaking with emotion.
Elain answered before you could, “She walked here without shoes.” Azriel’s eyes flicked to Elain who immediately followed with, “But she’s alright.”
Azriel’s attention returned to you, his scarred hands running gently up and down your shins as he looks at you with pain mirrored in his own eyes. “Why would you do that, my love?” He asks softly.
You croak out a response, admitting that in your frantic state, you didn’t even bother putting on shoes before rushing here.
From behind him, Rhysand entered into the room with Lucien, the two speaking in hushed tones with one another as Lucien held the letter in his hand. His russet eyes that looked strikingly of his brothers met yours and were already whispering apologies to you, but you broke your stare with him as soon as Nesta pushed past behind him, followed by Cassian and Feyre. You watched as Feyre’s eyes met Rhysands and they exchanged unspoken words, both of their faces trying their best to hide the concern bubbling underneath.
It’s clear that Cassian and Azriel were both pulled from a War Camp somewhere, both their boots and armor are covered in a thick coating of dried mud and there is grime settled on both of their faces, but it seemed that they had dropped everything and immediately come here. Elain rose from the couch, crossing to Lucien who she immediately slid into, his shoulder wrapping around her arm as she hugged his side. Nesta immediately took Elain’s place next to you, her hand meeting yours and giving you a reassuring squeeze as she kept her eyes on Rhysand. Cassian joined Rhysand and Lucien who continued to whisper to one another. Azriel only kept his eyes on you, his hands continuing their slow patterns up and down your skin as though he was worried if his touch left, you might disappear. He only broke his focus on you when Rhysand cleared his throat, settling into the sitting chair opposite of yours, leaning forwards on his forearms. A silence falls heavy into the sitting room as Rhysand and you meet eyes. His stare isn’t reassuring and that alone is enough to make that fear that courses through your veins peak again.
You can feel the tension in the air as you finally gather the courage to speak up, your voice trembling with unease. "What does this mean?" you demanded, eyes locked on Rhysand.
His gaze shifts slightly, his breaths coming in controlled puffs. "It means that Philip is trying to control you, to manipulate you into living in the Autumn Court," he replies, his tone filled with a hint of warning.
"Well I won't do it," you declare, your voice laced with conviction and defiance.
Rhysand's expression remains steady, but you can sense the underlying frustration in his voice. "I know," he says, "but Philip knowing about your bond with Caelum changes things."
"Why does it matter what he knows?" you snap back, anger bubbling within you. "He has no right to dictate my life or force me to go back to Caelum."
"Unfortunately," Rhysand continues, "the Autumn Court is known for its traditionalist ways. I'm not surprised by Philip's request."
Your mind reels at this revelation, confusion and fear mixing together in a potent cocktail of emotions. "Surprising or not, I’m not going back with him.”
But his response only adds to the growing turmoil inside you. "It's not that simple," he says gravely.
"Fuck if it's not," you retort angrily and Rhysand pauses considering his next works carefully.
Lucien's voice cuts through the tense silence, his words dripping with bitterness and resentment. "Listen," he interjects, all eyes turning to him now. "My brother is a master manipulator, always looking out for his own gain. And trust me when I say he never makes a request that doesn't benefit himself in some way."
"I don't give a shit," you snap back, your frustration and anger boiling over. "I won't do anything he tells me to."
"Y/N, you need to understand that we cannot trust Philip's motives. We must tread carefully and gather all information before making a decision," Rhysand warns, his eyes flashing with concern.
You shoot back, anger simmering in your voice. "I don't care what he wants or why. I will not go back to that place."
"That is not the desired outcome for any of us," he stresses. "But we cannot simply reject him without knowing the full extent of his intentions or if he has any other plans."
Nesta interjects, her tone sharp and urgent. "So we just sit around and wait for another letter? Or worse?"
"I believe it would be wise to wait and see if we can figure out more about what’s going on under the surface.” Rhysand replies, his answer calculating and cold.
"I refuse to be a pawn in someone else's game," you spout, venom lacing your words.
Rhysand fixes you with an intense gaze. "As a daughter of the Autumn Court High family, you are already a pawn whether you like it or not."
"I have no interest in claiming the throne," you protest.
Lucien adds, "But as an extension of the High Lord, you could offer potential heirs for the next ruler after Eris."
Your throat tightens and vomit rises as you think about that possibility.
"How did Caelum even know to reach out to Philip?" Cassian questions, arms crossed against his chest.
"It's possible that the wall that Y/N has against him isn’t as solid as we may have thought, allowing Caelum glimpses into her thoughts," Feyre suggests grimly.
Your heart thuds painfully in your chest, heavy with guilt and regret. Despite the walls you’ve built up and the lessons from Rhysand, you couldn’t keep them safe. All because you let yourself be happy for a moment. You vow to punish yourself later for your weakness, but seeing Azriel’s concerned gaze on you only adds to your inner turmoil. How can you face him when you've failed to protect those you love?
Rhysand's voice cuts through the tense silence like a knife, "We stay silent for now. We reach out to Eris and bring him into the fold, making sure he knows the truth about his brother's actions. And if necessary, we will meet with him to strategize. This issue affects all of us and I refuse to keep anyone in the dark, especially when it concerns Philip." His words hang heavy in the air as he continues, "And I think it would be best for you to distance yourself from us for the time being."
Your eyes widen in shock and confusion as you protest, "What?!" But Nesta's outraged shout echoes your own sentiment.
Rhysand's hand shoots up with ferocity, silencing the two of you before you can protest. "You will stay away until we have a solid plan in place," he commands, his eyes fierce and determined. "Caelum has found a way past your defenses and is using you to gather information for Philip. We cannot risk your safety or ours by keeping you near us."
Azriel's jaw clenches in anger as he grips your leg tighter. "She's supposed to be isolated?" he growls, his gaze burning into Rhysand.
"She won’t be cast out," Rhys answers quickly. "She can stay at the Town House while we figure out what to do."
Azriel's voice rises in protest. "You promised her she wouldn't be kept in the dark anymore."
"It's not about fairness right now," Rhysand counters. "It's about protecting our family and Y/N from harm. And Azriel, as my spymaster, I would hope you could see past your own wants when it comes to the safety of all of us."
As much as you long to be near Azriel, your focus wanes when you're with him. If it means keeping him safe by staying apart, then you are willing to make that sacrifice.
"I won't make Azriel leave the Town House," you interject firmly.
His gaze snaps back to yours, confusion etched on his face at your lack of protest. But you stand your ground. "I can stay at one of the housing units," you suggest. “I understand the risk that me being around poses.”
"No," Azriel responds immediately, shaking his head. "I won't have you hiding from us."
“I cannot bear to see anyone else suffer because of me, Azriel,” you choke out through trembling lips, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over. You refuse to cry, not now, not in front of him. “Even if it means being alone, I will make that sacrifice.” Your heart breaks at the pained look in Azriel's eyes, but you turn away and face Rhysand, determined to stay strong. “I can leave this afternoon.”
Rhysand nods solemnly at you. “Only until we can find a solution or ensure your walls are impenetrable. Until then, I will come visit you and work on strengthening your defenses, finding any weaknesses.”
The room falls into a suffocating silence. Nesta's hand tightens in yours, her tears cascading down her cheeks like the glittering jewels of a shattered crown. Her chest rises and falls with each shaky breath, her body trembling with grief. You can feel the weight of her pain as if it were your own. As you sit with your family, trying to push back the looming questions of how long you will be away and how much of Nesta's pregnancy you may miss, a sense of guilt gnaws at your gut. You know that inside, Nesta is mourning the loss of your steadying presence through this whole ordeal. Lucien refuses to meet your gaze, his shoulders slumped as though he bears the weight of his family's actions.
And then there is Azriel... the sweet, broken male who holds your heart in his hands. His once composed expression now shattered, his hazel eyes a storm of emotion as he begs for you to stay, to fight for your love. But you know deep down that this sacrifice is necessary. You've already lost too many loved ones and the thought of losing him, the one who has held you through all the nightmares and pieced together your shattered soul, is unbearable.
You can feel his fingers trembling against yours, silently pleading for you to look at him. The warmth of his skin sends a rush of memories flooding through you - the late nights spent wrapped in each other's arms, the whispered promises of forever, the shared laughter and tears. But you can't bring yourself to do it, knowing that one glance into those hazel eyes will break your resolve. You refuse to let the tears fall, to show any weakness.
But for now, keeping him away means keeping him safe. And even though it feels like your heart is being torn apart with every step that separates you from him, you are willing to endure the searing pain of losing him for a moment in order to protect him from a lifetime without his love and presence by your side. You will stay away from him, feeling the weight of his absence like a physical ache in your chest, all in the hopes that the delicate babe you see in your dreams, with eyes just like his and tiny wings that flutter with promise, may someday be born into a world where they can thrive and grow strong. You will stay away so that the declaration of your love to one another will not simply fade into a distant memory, but will be nourished and allowed to flourish. You will stay away, making sacrifices for the sake of living, not just surviving, as Azriel has pleaded with you before. You will live, clinging desperately to the hope that one day, when the time is right, you can finally be reunited with the one who holds your heart in his hands.
Readers: Hah. Hah. Hah. *clears throat* sorry about that one.
@sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @rhysandorian @loglady00 @caninne @weepingwerewolfparadise @that-one-bibliophole @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @caroline-books @slytherintaco @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx
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leftshoeuntied · 10 months ago
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Quick lil tf141 x reader scenario but also I haven’t studied the U.S. amendments in however many years so if there are mistakes give me grace hahah
I’ve been thinking about a situation where the reader is home and all of the sudden there is a forceful knock at her front door, and when she opens the door, she is met with four gruff men staring back at her.
“Hello” she says apprehensively eyeing each of men individual “can I help you?”
“This is 32 Spearhead Road, right?” one of the men asks her.
“Yeah” she responds with a nod, still a bit wary of the group of men before.
“Brilliant, thanks love” The same man says leaning down to pick his rucksack back up and begins to push through the slightly ajar door and shoulders by the reader, and the other three men begin to follow his lead into the mudroom and kitchen.
“Bi-huh, excuse me!” the reader exclaims after a moment of shock, turning to follow the men, hot on their heels “what do you think you’re doing?” as the four start to disperse into the house, too casually.
“You said this is 32 Spearhead, no?” the original man pauses, turns to look over to the reader, sliding the rucksack off his shoulder and dropping it onto the tiled floors, “we’re here for the housing”.
“Excuse me? What housing?” The reader exclaims, still shocked at the men who barraged into her home and with growing frustration at their casualness of the situation.
“Temporary military housing” the man says plainly with a nod towards the reader and a raised eyebrow, like she should already know what he is referring to, “Captain John Price” he says stepping closer to the reader and sticking his hand out.
The reader ignores his hand and looks at him with a look frustration and confusion, “I get that you say you’re here for housing, but I have no idea what you mean. I’m not military”.
“I was told you should’ve received prior notice of our arrival” Price drops his outstretched hand. “Something in the post?” he adds after noticing the even more growing confusion on her face.
The reader eyes the pile of mail in the basket in the middle of her kitchen island. She had been meaning to get to the ever-growing pile of mail from the last couple of weeks, but the anxiety of the red stamps stating ‘past due’ and ‘action required’ on a majority of the envelopes kept her from digging through it.
Pulling the basket closer to her, she starts rifling through the envelopes to see one envelope inconspicuously labelled as federal first-class mail from an address in Virginia. When she rips open the envelope, a plain typed letter falls out with the heading of ‘Central Intelligence Agency’ and the CIA’s seal in the top left corner. 
As she quickly scans the letter, a few things stand out to her, the ‘ask’ but more like demand that she houses an American ally’s soldiers for an indefinite amount of time, an offer of a weekly stipend for her support, and ending the letter thanking her for doing her part in support of the American military and our allies, that we could not win this war without the support of Patriots like her. She would have scoffed at the last comment if she wasn’t spiraling at the moment.
“No no no, I know my rights” she says pointing to her chest, finally getting her thoughts straight. “The third amendment says I can’t be forced to house any soldiers in my house against my will” the reader argues looking back up from the documents with a furrowed brow, but drops her gaze again, using her finger to scan through the document quickly one more time. “Especially not British soldiers” she mutters.
“Sorry love, I don’t know anything about your laws, I just followed the orders” Price says leaning against the kitchen island, watching as she continues to scan through the document, looking for an out.
______
TLDR: My thoughts are that the US has to formally declare war but during the formal war declaration process, congress slips through a law through that allows the U.S. military and intelligence agencies to override the 3rdamendment (there is some debate on if the U.S. could actually do this, but with the right scenario it could be pushed through only during active war), and with the average American focusing more on the formal declaration of war, the overriding of the 3rd amendment is purposefully missed on the formal announcement to the news from the American government because there would be so much outcry over it.
Is this anything? It’s been banging around my brain for the last week or so, so it’s nice to get it on paper at least hahah but let me know your thoughts, I would greatly appreciate it! 
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alex51324 · 4 months ago
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Mohela Saga Resolution
So, the whole experience with my Mohela student loans, from a couple of weeks ago has resolved (kinda) and I know I'm not the only one having a terrible time with this company, so I wanted to share.
The saga, as briefly as I can summarize it, is that my loans keep popping back into full-price repayment status because of the IBR freezes, and a couple of weeks ago, I spent and entire work day on hold with them, their phone system did some weird shit, and I was D-O-N-E done with trying to reach them by phone.
See here if you want to read the whole thing, but if you've dealt with these chucklefucks before, it probably won't be anything earth-shattering.
What's important is that I did eventually get my problem fixed, and I'm going to tell you how.
First, I wrote a letter. Here's what I included in it:
A brief summary of the history of my problem.
A description of my efforts to contact them by phone. I did, at one point, manage to speak to a first-level customer service rep, who said that they had to escalate me to the next level, so I summarized that conversation.
The resolution I sought. I said what I actually wanted (for my account to be in an income-based repayment plan) and that if that was not possible, I would accept a processing forbearance. I stated directly that I consented to either of these solutions.
My contact information. I provided a mailing address, email, and phone number, and stated that if they called and left a message, they would need to provide me with a way to get back to them, because I was not able to spend another entire work day on hold for them.
A list of all of the ways that I was transmitting this letter to them (mail, fax, email, uploaded document).
Note that, if your problem is anything to do with a payment you can't afford, and there is relief that is available to you in theory but not in practice--e.g., because the forms have been frozen due to ongoing litigation, or because you have a special situation that needs to be addressed by a human being, or even because you turned everything in and they haven't gotten to it--then the magic words are processing forbearance. This puts your payments at zero until they get around to putting you into IBR or whatever else you're supposed to be in. Interest does continue to accrue, unfortunately, but you don't have to make payments and your account won't go into collections.
Once I had my letter written, I sent it to them through every means I could find:
Postal mail to their "request for assistance" address, as shown here.
MOHELA 633 Spirit Drive Chesterfield, MO 63005-1243
2. Fax, to the number 1-866-222-7060 , as shown here.
3. The "contact us" form, here.
4. Uploaded as a document in the "inbox" section of my account.
Additionally, I put the full text of the letter, into the complaint form at Studentaid.gov, along with a brief note about why I was sending it to them. (Basically, because I didn't trust Mohela to actually do anything with any of their copies.)
After doing all that, every few days I checked on my account on the Mohela website, and about 10 days later, my account was back in a processing forbearance, with my payment set to Zero and nothing showing as overdue.
Nobody has contacted me, so I don't know which of these methods actually worked. But one of them apparently did!
For the postal letter, I thought about doing a registered letter--so I'd have proof of delivery if questions arose later--but I wasn't going to be able to get to the Post Office for at least a few days, so I just dropped it in a mailbox with a regular first-class stamp. I thought I'd do it all again, with a registered letter that time, if about two weeks went by and nothing happened. I ended up not having to, but that's an option.)
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weeeeeekly · 10 months ago
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the inheritance – hybrid!ot5 txt x human gn!reader
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blurb !!! Your grandmother left behind her home to you in her will. As a recent college grad, you take on the responsibilities – you never expected to find 5 hybrids living in your new home
info !!! gender neutral pronouns for reader, no reader body shape mention, no use of y/n, non-idol au, hybrid au, strangers to lovers, ot5 txt x reader, kinda a/b/o, inspired by the monster’s bride webtoon, ppulbatu, & txt lore (please do not ask me about it bcuz I don’t know anyyyythingg)
WARNINGS !!! SFW but MDNI 18+ blog, swearing, not proofread just pure free flowing thought, wouldn’t recommend reading if you were close to your grandmother, she passed away, & are still grieving
wc 1.2k
author’s note !!! if you don’t like it – don’t read it!
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CHAPTER TWO
You’re sitting on the couch as you stare up at the 5 men. Well, 5 men with animal ears and tails: a 6-foot tall man brown hair and floppy white dog ears on top of his head (the one that slept next to you), a man with black hair and white fox ears that were too big for him (a new face), another man with black hair and smaller white dog ears on top of his head (part of the pair sleeping on the top bunk), a shorter man with brown hair and gray cat ears (the other half of the pair), and the 6-foot tall man with blonde hair with golden dog ears on top of his head (the one that tackled you).
Now that the adrenaline had worn off and the fear slowly dissipated from your body, you realize that the situation at hand was unusual.
Every fiber in your being was screaming at you to get the fuck away from this house and them once your brain put the pieces together that they were hybrids.
If owning an exotic pet was illegal then one can imagine how much more illegal it would be to own an exotic hybrid. You didn’t even know that hybrid species expanded past the usual pets like dogs, cats, and bunnies. You didn’t even know anyone that owned hybrid due to how expensive it is to even place an application let alone pay the fees to own one. The news would sometimes showcase when a celebrity got one and the gossip channels would give updates on them, usually not-so-happy endings for the hybrid pets that were either abandoned or worse.
You always believed, and still do, that the system of owning hybrids was out-of-this-world. Either buying, which made you uncomfortable, or adopting. Most hybrid facility didn’t even have to follow a code of conduct due to the nature of human and animal parts, so there were many loopholes in the laws and legality.
One of the legalities being that no one could own a hybrid without properly processed paperwork, up-to-date wellness checkups, and a license.
“Is this some kind of elaborate Halloween prank? I don’t have time for this.” You glance to your phone that shows the time and you were going to be very late to work if you didn’t leave in the next 5 minutes. “I really don’t have time for this.”
You walk back to your room to get your stuff ready, realizing that you won’t be able to do your usual morning routine and will ultimately have a bad day. All 5 of them start talking over each other with only a few shared words that you picked up on “run away” and “scared”.
Once you’re ready, you walk back downstairs to the front door and turn back to them.
“I’m going to work. I’ll be back by 6 PM. Please stay inside and don’t do anything crazy.”
One of the tall ones speaks up, “Okay.”
You shoot them a smile and walk out, locking the door.
Your entire day goes by too slowly for your liking. This was your usual shift 9 to 5 at the local post office, but it felt like it was your first day despite working this job for over a year. You kept mixing up the mail while sorting — almost giving your coworker the wrong mail for their delivery run. Embarrassingly, you accidentally stamped a few letters upside down when you were thinking over the events that happened earlier today.
On your lunch break, you call your friend for a favor.
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Getting back to your grandmother’s house, you’re not expecting the one of the strangers to bring you into a hug as soon as you open the door.
“You’re back.”
You awkwardly pat the back of the guy, “Uh, yeah I said that I would be back.”
Trying to get out from the hug, the boy just hugs you tighter so you sigh and shuffle forward. When you reach the kitchen, the other 4 shocked faces look back at you.
“Can someone please get him off me?”
Before you finish your sentence the two tall members pull him away.
“Beomgyu, stop it.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
The tall brunette glares at the guy as the tall blonde smiles at you apologetically. You smile back as you sidestep around the others to open a bag of your favorite chips.
“Can you guys help me bring my stuff in?”
The guys don’t let you touch any of your stuff saying “it’s heavy and this is the least they can do”. You don’t argue since you were dreading to bring items from the rental trailer to upstairs. You just tell them where to put it in your room as you sit on your sleeping bag and continue eating chips. They finish helping you setting up the basics in your room in under 2 hours.
“Do you guys want to order in and then have a proper conversation?”
They all agree as you begin listing off places to order takeout from settling on a local pizzeria that made your favorite pizza.
After the pizzas had been eaten and their situation had been explained, they sit on your bed as you pace in front of them.
“Okay, all of 5 of you were from the same facility and while you were being transported to a new facility the truck flipped over during a thunderstorm and you guys escaped. Then you found this house that was abandoned and made this your home. Is that right?”
A chorus of “yeah”s are your response as you frown.
“How did you guys survive all this time?”
“We, um, stole out of necessity.”
“Only twice a month at night.”
“For how long?”
“2 years…”
You shut your eyes and sigh as you get your phone out, texting one of your best friends for a huge favor as the group look nervously at each other.
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After making some arrangements, you turn back to your new… roommates to explain, “Tomorrow afternoon, a trusted friend is coming by to give you all a wellness checkup. Make sure everyone’s okay.”
They nod as you force yourself to calm down as they could probably sense your elevated blood pressure and heartbeat. You grit your teeth into a smile as you realize that they look like models lounging on your bed.
“I don’t want this to be a bad memory and I trust new people too much, but would it be okay if I took a picture of you guys?”
They agree and look like models as you take a picture on your phone. A real smile spreads across your face as you look at the result.
“Oh!” You smack your forehead, “Almost forgot to introduce myself.”
You tell them your name as they reciprocate. You make sure to make direct eye contact as they go one-by-one to match their name to their face.
“It’s nice to meet you guys, properly, I’m going to go to bed soon so.”
You hope they pick up on the hint that you want to be left alone and Taheyun picks up on it as his eyebrow raises.
“We should go back downstairs.”
The group file out of the room as you mouth him a “thank you” and go to the bathroom to change. But when you come back, a fox and maltese are curled up on your bed.
“I’ll let it slide only for tonight.”
masterlist | previous | next
author’s note thank you for all the love on this series!! i was not expecting that.
i will edit when i’m back on a computer. apologies, but still just writing on my phone.
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theforlorne · 4 months ago
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Alastor's Response (Letter One, an Alastor x Reader)
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🐑 ♡ Oh my goodness, so this is my first time writing Alastor, I'm scared, help ♡🐑
You sent a love letter to Alastor, and he responded.
Mature, No Warnings, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Love Letters, Fluff, Sex-Repulsed Alastor, just two people sharing a love for cooking, and potentially each other, Subtle Manipulation, Implied Cannibalism, POV Second Person, Ambiguous Gender Reader
Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 460
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Chapter 1
Letter One
The letter that arrived on your door was charming. It was rustic in a way, yet upon closer inspection, you determined the craftsmanship cleverly hid any imperfections in its design. Otherwise crinkled segments of the envelope were covered by blocky handwriting. An alluring, vermillion stamp was pressed onto the top right corner, but beneath its edges there was evidence of a stain. When you flipped over the letter, a similar stain circled and crawled its way across the back. Unable to be hidden like the other one, it made you wonder if the one who prepared the letter simply determined they had done enough when they noticed the garish mark. Perhaps they didn’t care. 
Why couldn't they simply put it in a new envelope? 
Getting into the mind of the mysterious sender was impossible, so you turned to their words instead. You let them speak to you through the paper. And oh Lucifer almighty, the paper was a sight to behold. What you pulled from the interior of the envelope shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it was hard not to be shocked at the way the contents were the epicentre of the decaying state of cleanliness it lacked to begin with. 
'Dearest Secret Admirer, Well well, what a wonderful surprise! Fan mail is something I am more than accustomed to, but you, my well hidden companion, have caught my eye. Congratulations! I know for certain that you’re not some clout chasing Sinner looking to woo me into a lifelong commitment of tortuous, domestic bliss. No, a letter is far too old fashioned for some.  And so, I decided to write back to you. Your words have touched me deeply, and I can’t deny the intrigue of this mysterious connection. While I may not know your shape, the way you express yourself speaks volumes about the romantic soul residing within the confines of your chest. Is that what you would like me to say? Oh, the humour! While my undeniable charm might has clearly worked on you, you have a long way to go before I even consider allowing you the grace of my presence.  I’m a very busy man, you know - hotels to run, radio to host, and all that jazz. Don’t even get me started on whether our tastes are compatible. Still, here I am writing to you. I must say, the whole process is exciting, and I forgot what a simple pleasure writing a letter could be. For that reason, I look forward to whatever your creative, little mind thinks up for me next. As I say, I’m a busy man.  Entertain me. Prove to me that you deserve my attention. A lot of people have died for that, you know? Patiently awaiting your response, Alastor'
♡ Next Chp ♡ Love Letter Series Masterlist ♡
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mrvelocipede · 5 months ago
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I've decided that I want to spend this year specifically focusing on doing more things with analog processes, and less with computers, if possible. As a small start, I've made a thing that looks like a postage stamp:
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It's pretty plausible, except that the scale is wrong:
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The perforations around the edge were made with a punch that's normally used for spiral binding. Fun with office equipment!
It's actually about the right size to be a postcard, now that I think about it. I wonder if it would be mail-able, or if the post office would object to the ragged edges.
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