#Return to Sender || Answered Asks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

piningprecussionist · 4 months

Note

... first and foremost, I would like to apologize for any discomfort I've caused you, Kim. now, I'm not the most... socially apt person. but I really, sincerely, do *not* mean you any harm. I'm not intending to come off as creepy, I can, however, understand why you'd be uncomfortable or perhaps concerned by these gifts and all. (I mean, shit. if somebody mailed me a painting of me dancing with them, I'd be weirded out too, flattered, granted. but weirded out.) I never really expected anything to happen, I guess I just... felt the need to tell you how I feel about you, get *that* off my chest, at least. even if you don't feel the same way that I do. (which is fine, and understandable! I get it.) as for why I've sent you gifts... I suppose I just wanted to show you how I felt with something other than a note or whatever. *just* a note feels kinda cheap. I'd rather give you something that's at least a bit useful to you (hence those custom made drumsticks.). I hope you find success in whatever future endeavors you do. and I hope that you don't find this note too off-putting. enclosed is something that I hope you and the rest of Sex Bob-Omb like. -sincerely, the guy who said he had a crush on you. *enclosed is a folded, custom made Sex Bob-Omb poster, it's actually quite well made. it's an homage to the album 'Ramones', by The Ramones, featuring Sex Bob-Omb's lineup leaning back against a brick wall. unlike the original album cover, it's in color and not black-and-white.*

ooc: answering this as though it is in the nebulous but near future! I just didn't want to leave this lingering any longer; sorry for the delay! Hopefully I have left things vague enough for myself to wedge it back in the timeline of the blog later lol

Kim lets out a long, weary sigh as she finally gets back to the relative peace of her room, taking a moment to rest back against her shut door and scrub at her face. The energy and emotional exhaustion of everything that had happened between the last time she'd been here and now seemed to be sinking into her bones, and she wanted little more than to sink to her knees right there and just be comatose for a while.

She knew from experience, however, that the floor was cold and miserable like that, especially this time of year; so, instead, she opts to shrug off her coat and toss it blindly in the direction of her desk, trudging towards her bed. She closes her eyes and lets herself fall forward into it, ready to finally, properly rest, maybe even unpack her thoughts about everything- but then, she hears the crinkle of paper as she makes contact with the sheets, and her eyes fly open while she rolls to the side and, thankfully, off of the object.

She blinks down at an envelope that had been tossed haphazardly on the bed, probably by Hollie, and after a moment recognizes the style of it. Oh, that one guy... how long has this been here? Did I miss this before I left? She hesitates briefly, mostly just in resistance to the idea of having to continue actively thinking, but sighs and sits up anyway. She won't be able to relax if it's just sitting there, tempting her.

Propping up her pillows, she leans back against them and opens it, pulling out both the letter and the folded poster. She looks over the letter first, and after a moment, lets out another sigh, this time a short, guilty thing. The words feel genuine, so she can't help but feel slightly bad about her previous response, but... Well, if they knew anything about her, they might've expected it. She tries to take comfort in that fact, glancing over in the general direction she left the drumsticks. Then, she pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of the letter, opening her blog to begin her reply.

Hey, sorry this too so long to get back to. Life and things; with how people talk, maybe you've heard about the party by now? Julie's ragers, am I right? The apology is appreciated... and accepted. I think I believe you, especially given you're acknowledging the creep factor there. I'm not really a big gift person, I guess, so it was a little off putting just to begin with, anything else aside. I think you've already given me more than my parents got me for Christmas, and I don't even have a name for you beyond "Crush Guy." But, hey, it's far from the most uncomfortable I've been in these situations, so you're actually doing fairly alright in that regard. Thank you for the well wishes; I'll probably be needing them, ha! And no, I think you've quelled the fires against you, for now. (Joking- this is why I do the stupid videos...)

She pauses briefly, looking over at the newest gift and carefully unfolds it, trying to work out the creases as she goes. Once it's unveiled, she stops to look at it for a long while, a bit surprised by how much she genuinely likes it. She sets it aside with a mental note to hang it up later- ideally before their next band practice. She wouldn't be attaching a photo of it to the post, to help keep the surprise til then.

And again for the gifts. I think the rest of the band will really dig this one, honestly- especially Stills. It's very nice.

She gives it a once over before nodding to herself and hitting send, content. Then, setting the letter and the poster further aside, as to not crumple them, Kim moves to curl up at the top of her bed in a tight ball, eyes sliding shut peacefully. I'll think about things later. Ball time, she thinks idly, and then thankfully, blissfully, proceeds to continue thinking nothing at all.

#(ooc: dude as i was writing this my roommate busted out some chicken pho and i am so ravenous rn. god damnit. why can i never FOCUS sdfskjf)#(ooc: if i get any asks after this posts and it takes a hot minute its because im going off on my own pho i want it so bad but. this first.#(ooc: i was really debating how to have her respond to these- but i think with ramona having responded to them too this is the best way?)#(ooc: briefly considered funny quirky “anon mail” system where she could send something back through the same envelope. like it just poofs #+ and returns to the sender with whatever's enclosed)#pine.txt #asks #anon #rp #kim pine #sp comic #spvtwtg #spto #spvtw #Crush Guy #(ooc: anyway the second kim has a single thought after this she's taking the biggest bong hit /j but make not who's to say)#((ooc: it's me. im to say. really it depends on the thought but if she wants to continue not stressing herself out then the answer is yes))#(ooc: also no kims on this one bc i didnt want it to get lost in my drafts since it'd get flung back a good ways)#(that one tag is supposed to say maybe not. dying inside.)

2 notes · View notes

safiirimaagi · 1 year

Note

©©©

Muse Headcanons | Accepting

Luvia is actually not that great at healing. She can use her magecraft to heal superficial stuff but anything more serious is definitely a hospital visit.

She writes to her sister every few weeks and is always keeping a watchful eye in case anything is amiss. If anything is to happen to Milla, Luvia will be there for her on the first flight she can book.

She's held a grudge against that clerk in the Clock Tower when she was told that no she cannot buy herself an entire wing of the dorms for herself. While yes she can see the reasoning behind it, it still left a sour taste in her mouth since she put on such a shameful display.

#【return to sender | answered asks】#//i should write more about Milla actually...

4 notes · View notes

mcu-coworkers · 10 months

Text

Posessive?

Summary: Miguel will stop at nothing to have you at his side. And you know that but who says you can't make him struggle just a little.

word count:3.5k+

A/n: Thank you guys for loving Pt.1 to this story so much I hope this second part meets your expectations! Im thinking of making a pt.3 where the spider society meets the reader let me know what you guys think!xx

Parts: I II^ III

(Gif credits to the creator ofc!^)

Walking into your lawyers office made Miguel's blood boil.

He had already ripped up the divorce papers but he wanted to send a message before he returned them to their sender considering you ignored his thousands of calls.

“Mr.O’hara it's nice to finally meet you although clients usually communicate lawyer to law-” he was quickly cut off by the loud sound of the shredded paper being tossed onto his desk.

“ I thought this would be quicker for the both of us, Tell your client that her HUSBAND said no. And that I‘ll be seeing her very soon. Thanks.” Miguel said, having that last bit dripping with sarcasm.

“Should I be concerned for my clients' well-being Mr.O’hara?” your lawyer said standing up.

Turning to face him once more Miguel snickered, “On the contrary Mr.?” he said looking for a name tag.

“Murdock. It's on the building Nelson and Murdock.” he said, smiling back at him.

“Big man, Congratulations. My wife is safe with me, just let her know I'll be seeing her soon, have a nice day Murdock.” With a nod from your lawyer he took it as his time to leave but not without whispering some insults in spanish under his breath.

Who did he think he was questioning your safety around Miguel? You were the safest at his side and his side only.

And no one was taking that from him, not even you.

Quickly after he left your Lawyer wasted no time in contacting you.

Two rings passed before you picked up.

To tell the truth your heart was pounding. It felt so soon for him to have already turned in the papers.

“Hello?” you didn't mean to sound as quiet and defeated as you did but who were you trying to fool this had been and was going to be a very tough moment in your life.

“Mrs.O’Hara how are you?” he answered calmly.

Confused by the surname you stopped walking in the middle of the busy airport.

“I'm fine, did you receive the papers?” you asked eager to find out exactly what happened.

“Yes, I did but they're not signed or intact for that matter. It seems like he gave them to a cat to have as a toy."He said holding up the paper realizing what he thought were rips were actually done by claws, strange.

“Ay Miguel.” You said, you knew he never took any news well but you never thought he’d pull something like this.

“He also left a message for you.” he said, setting the paper aside.

“And that was?” you said curious as to what he could possibly have to say.

“Tell your client that her husband said no, and that he will be seeing you very soon, he put a big emphasis on the word husband.” he said pausing.

Waiting for a response from you he added on, “Ms. O’Hara if i'm being honest here this doesn't sound like a man who wanted a divorce.” he said reconsidering the course of the situation.

“At this point I'm not really sure what he wants anymore, I don't think I ever actually knew to begin with.” you said, beginning to question your judgment.

“Well if you’d like to continue with the one sided divorce process we can do that otherwise I think you should speak to Mr.O’Hara and sort things out.” He said.

Now you had a lot to think about, A shiver went up your spine as you realized exactly what was happening.

“Y/n? Is everything okay? Do you need help?” Your lawyer asked on the other side. He always knew a little more than he was led to believe which meant he had to be cautious with how much he involved himself.

“Oh yeah, yes I am fine just considering my options, can I get back to you on that?” You asked quickly beginning to exit the airport.

“Yes, of course whatever you need, give me a call.” he said, he could hear your breath picking up and your heart beat gaining speed.

“Thank you, Mr. Murdock.” and with that you hung up the phone and found your driver.

If there was one thing Miguel didn't like it was not having you by his side and to make matters worse not knowing where you were.

You didn't doubt for a second Miguel had already found you; it was just a matter of time before he got to you.

Angry would be the understatement of the year.

Taking a deep breath you tried to relax remembering why you were in this situation in the first place.

It was his fault you left, and if he wanted to bring you back then he’d have to travel across the world and do it face to face.

After all, you did book a flight to Barcelona thinking it would be far enough to not ever be able to go back to him no matter how strong the urge.

Your phone rang again, thinking it was your lawyer, you answered.

“Was there something you forgot to mention earlier?” you asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Hiring a man as your lawyer, you always know where to hit me so it hurts mi amor.” chills ran down your spine at the sound of that raspy voice.

“Miguel, what do you want?” you said trying to put up a front.

“You. Back in our house, at my side.” he said with a demanding tone.

The audacity of this man, you'd been distraught and in tears practically the entire journey here but now? All you felt was anger.

“No.” was all you said, the front was gone, these were your genuine emotions now.

“No? Como que no? You're mine, don't you forget that.” he said, beginning to raise his voice.

“ I didn't forget that, you did Miguel so it's either you start remembering or I start forgetting too. Ya no voy a estar de gata a tus pies. I'm worth more than that.” you said trying to hold back the shakiness in your voice.

It was helpless because he already heard it.

“Mi amor, I never thought that of you please, come home and let's talk. I'm begging you don't do this to us. I need you.” He said hoping he could sway you in his direction.

“This is the longest you've spoken to me in over a month Miguel, you realize that right? And all for what, because I disobeyed you?” you asked, hoping he'd deny it but all you got was silence.

Chuckling you smiled, at least that part of him never changed.

“Baby, plea-” he tried.

“No, Sign the papers or I'm moving in a different direction Miguel. I let my love for you stand in the way for too long and you don't even have the decency to tell me you don't love me anymore. I'm done.” you said as he began to speak over you trying to stop you.

No one had ever tested Miguel's patience this much.

You not letting him get a sentence out was only bringing him closer to the edge.

“Y/n I swear if you make me-” dead tone. You hung up.

“HIJO DE PUTA!” he said as he punched the back of the passenger seat in front of him.

“Everything alright sir?” his driver asked mostly only concerned for his own safety.

No one liked seeing Miguel upset ten times out of nine everyone else ended up in whatever mood he was in.

“Yes, Just get me to the jet please.” he said, rubbing his temples gently.

Miguel fell in love with your sense of leadership when he had first met you, god was he paying for it now.

He tried to calm himself before boarding the plane. He needed to think of what he could say to get you back at his side.

He knew he needed to change, it's his best bet at making you remember just how much he loves you.

Just as the plane was taking off his gizmo showed a hologram of Jess.

“So, did you get your girl back?” She asked with a slight smirk on her face.

Miguel froze, he kept his business out of the spider society just in case anyone ever turned on them.

Keeping you safe was his number one priority.

“Lyla spilled Miguel, she's worried about you and says she's never seen you this bad before.” she said with a slight tone of concern. She knew better than to show Miguel she was worried, he would just push her away and tell her he was fine.

“Everything will be fine, I'll be gone two days tops think you can handle that?” he asked with a small smile on his face.

He knew Jess could do more than handle it; he just needed a distraction from the chaos he’d brought to his marriage.

“Yeah well when you bring her back, and you will, I ‘d like to meet the person who tolerates your broodiness, hell i ‘ll probably ask for some tips while i'm at it.” she said, making him chuckle.

No one could do what you did for him.

“Keep me updated on the canon events and keep Hobie out of my office.” he said remembering the last time he snuck in.

“You got it boss, don't forget we're all rooting for you.” she said before hanging up.

We? Who's we? He was gonna have a long talk with Lyla about confidentiality when he got back.

------

It has now been just about two days since you last spoke to Miguel and since then you’ve received one flower arrangement every hour with a message from Miguel and your bill at every place you visited covered by, you guessed it, Miguel.

And still you had to be graced by the presence of the man himself.

Barcelona was your chance to really find out if the grass was greener on the other side and that meant no giving in to Miguel's romantic gestures.

It was hard when every single flower warmed your heart just a little more every time.

It reminded you of when he’d cut flowers from random gardens on his way to your house.

They were never this fancy or even wrapped in paper for that matter, but you loved them more than anything else because he gave them to you out of love.

He gave these to you seeking forgiveness, something he wouldn't be doing if you hadn't been pushed over the edge.

Sighing, you set them aside with the rest of the arrangements and decided to go for a coffee.

Finding a little shop you sat on the patio after ordering your Latte with a croissant to accompany it.

Basking in the sun your mind couldn't help but wonder where he was, if he was already watching you from a distance waiting to catch you off guard.

You weren't too far off.

He was watching you, from a safe distance just to make sure you were safe, and that no other man was coming near you but mostly to make sure you were safe.

He thought that if he gave you space it’d make you miss him.

The flowers and paying for you were just in case you did miss him. Or at least that's what he made them out to be.

Miguel was trying his best to not let his possessive ways take over him and just carry you on the plane and take you home but he oh so wanted this to be over already.

But he too decided to turn a new leaf in Barcelona, one that would promise to never let you forget just how much he loved you, no matter how shitty of a day he had at work.

Miguel was brought out of his thoughts when he saw you leaving the cafe not because you were leaving but because some man was following you.

His body tensed as the man tapped on your shoulder and handed you something.

Before he knew it he was walking towards you and pulling you into him by the waist.

“¿Ya terminaste amor?( you finished here love?)” he said, smiling down at you before turning to look at the idiot who touched you.

Who did he think he was touching you when you belonged to Miguel?

Smiling a thank you to the stranger you met mere minutes ago you begin walking without answering Miguel's question.

“Who the hell was that guy?” he said following you down the street.

“ I have no idea Miguel, what I do know is that you've been watching me for the past two days.” you said trying to hide your smirk.

Miguel stopped, you had outsmarted him.

“Only because you won't speak to me.” he said trying to hide the smile on his face.

He was a proud husband but now was not the time.

“Sucks doesn't it? Being ignored by your spouse when you just wanted to give them all your love.” you said opening the door to your new home.

“Y/n mi amor I get it, I'm an asshole and I deserve whatever it is you throw my way but please come home and you can throw it at me there.” he said trying to get close to you but all it did was make you take a step back.

“Baby please, just come here.” he said as he took another step towards you.

He was quick but you were quicker getting out of the way.

“No Miguel, you treated me like some toy that you used when you were bored. And when you got tired of me you tossed me to the side and pretended that I wasn't there. Do you know how it feels to be treated like an item? A disposable item?” you asked your voice barely above a whisper but that didn't stop you.

“For the last ten years of our relationship there wasn't one day that you didn't tell me you loved me. Even when we were fighting. Tell me Miguel, when was the last time you told me you loved me? As a matter of fact, When was the last time we even slept in the same bed? You can't tell me can you?” you asked, waiting for a response from him but all you got was silence.

Your words finally began to actually sink in to Miguel and for once he didn't know what to do.

Balancing the literal multiverse on his shoulders distracted him so much he hadn't realized the damage he was doing to your marriage.

But you’d had more than enough time to realize what it did to you.

Shaking your head you looked away as tears brimmed your eyes.

You wanted so badly to be strong for yourself but seeing the end to what you thought was your forever was making it really difficult.

“Fuck.” was all Miguel could muster up at the moment, he needed to find a way to fix this.

Letting out a shaky breath, “Y/n, I know that I ‘ve changed but there's just been so much pressure on me to fix things and they really need me right now, this is the only way I can keep everyone safe, keep you safe.” he said hoping you’d understand.

Nodding you looked out the window and admired the view.

“ I understand, the multiverse is important to you. But I can't sit around waiting for the day you decide to consider me too. And I know that sounds selfish but I can't help it. I'm jealous of Miguel. Jealous of the people who see you more than I do. Jealous of the office you spend time in. Jealous of the Lyla.” you actually had to laugh after that.

“ I sound crazy, Jealous of a damn AI all because it gets your attention more than me.” you said tears finally falling.

“Well guess what Miguel, I won't do it anymore, I hate this feeling. I understand protecting the multiverse is important so go, go be a hero it's who you are and it's amazing. I could never stand in the way of that no matter how much it’d hurt me.” you said leaning back on the kitchen counter.

You’d hoped that’d be enough to get him to go.

In a second Miguel had his arms around you and his head buried in your shoulder.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you realized he was crying.

“Miguel?” you asked gently, slightly confused by the reaction.

“I'm so sorry baby please, I need you. Without you I'm just the shell of the man I should be. I can't live a life without you, it's pointless. Just please come home and we can fix this together. I ‘ll do whatever you want. I ‘ll get on my knees and beg if that's what it takes.” he said as he began to get down on his knees.

“Miguel no-” you whispered as you tried pulling him back up.

“Then what baby you tell me and I ‘ll do it please tell me how to fix this. ¡Estoy loco por ti y lo sabes!( I'm crazy for you and you know it!)” he yelled, he was mere seconds away from a panic attack his breathes were shortening quickly and you noticed it.

“Miguel? Baby slow down, you need to breathe.” you said lowering yourself to meet his face.

“ I can’t- I can-” he said as he tried regaining his breath.

He hadn't had one of these since he became spiderman so an inhaler was not an option. So you did the next best thing, you kissed him.

Deeply, passionate to make sure he slowed down his breathing completely.

Slowly it began to work so you pulled away to allow him to catch his breath.

Analyzing his face you’d only hoped it worked, “Better?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not yet.” he said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back in for another kiss this time much deeper.

Miguel began kissing you like a man who’d been starved as he pulled you closer wrapping your legs around his waist in the process.

And just like that you were lost in him all over again.

Whatever speech you gave yourself about the grass being greener was gone in the wind.

Quickly Miguel began undressing you while you pulled his clothes off in return.

“No sabes cuanto te e necesitado mi amor. (you don't know how much i've needed you my love.)” he said as left a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Callate y hazme el amor Miguel.(shut up and make love to me.”you said breathlessly as he flipped you over on the kitchen floor placing his tip at your entrance.

Slipping into you slowly he clenched his jaw at the feeling of your tightness around him. Oh how he missed this feeling.

Gasping you tried to adjust to his size again , no matter how many times you’d had sex in the past it's like this man got bigger and bigger every time.

Hearing your soft moans encouraged Miguel to keep going until he was fully buried in you, “dios mio.” was all he could manage to say as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“Miguel-” you moaned, signaling him to move.

“ I know baby I know.” he said as he pulled himself out completely before thrusting back in and finding his pace making you arch your back in the process.

Slowly he began building up his speed until all he could hear was the beautiful sound of your voice moaning his name endlessly.

This was his heaven.

Watching you as your face contorted in full euphoria at the pleasure he was giving you.

Taking your hand in his he gave it a squeeze that you returned as you used your other hand to pull him in for a breathless kiss.

“Miguel ya” you said, getting closer to your climax.

“Wait for me mami i'm almost there.” he said as he sped up making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

This man would be the end of you.

By this point you were a moaning mess holding on to the last strands of sanity you had left waiting for Miguel.

Once you felt Miguel twitch inside of you it was clear he was close, you pulled him close and began kissing your way up to his ear.

“Miguel baby, I need you hazme tuya mi amor.” you moaned, and with that you felt his fangs dig into your shoulder as he filled you with his seed allowing you to cum with him.

You could've passed out from the immense amount of pleasure you were feeling, or the reaction to his spider venom, but missing a moment of this was not an option.

After Miguel recovered he realized what he’d done, “Shit, I'm sorry I didn’t think-” he said, beginning to slightly panic.

He’d always been able to control himself in bed.

Smiling, you pulled him in for another kiss, “It’s okay, I liked it.” you said earning yourself a look of surprise from him.

Laying his head back down on your chest you sighed in content.

“Eres la luz de mi vida, el sol para mi luna. (you are the light of my life, the sun to my moon.)” he said smiling.

Laughing you massaged the back of his neck as you ran your hands through his hair.

“ The light of your life would like to get off this hard floor.” you said as you wiggled to ease the soreness of your back.

Miguel wasted no time in picking you up and taking you to the bedroom.

“ This looks like a much more suitable place to spend the week.” he said, laying you down gently.

“Week? Isn't there a canon event that needs your rescuing?” you asked, to tell the truth your heart was overjoyed at the thought of him staying here with you.

“You, you're my cannon event and it's gonna take all of me to rescue you.” he said as he kissed your forehead.

“My hero.” you said as you laid your head on his chest admiring his relaxed features.

“Te amo mi cielo.” he whispered.

“Y yo a ti cariño.” you said, closing your eyes as you fell asleep alongside the love of your life.

The road to forever looked a lot brighter now

tagslist: @cooch1ecruncher @hoseokslefteyebrow @marcswife21 @whatdudtheysay @foxglove-spidey @smyfmj @mushy-mushroom04 @flooftoof @aepinkoutsold @scoliobean @elliaze

#miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #spider-man 2099 #across the spiderverse

1K notes · View notes

glow-worms-are-believers · 1 year

Text

Return to sender (dc x dp)

There was a box set right in front of his door. That was already pretty unusual, since Danny had just moved in, and and gotten done with boxes and he knew he hadn't had anything delivered here.

"Let's get you inside," Danny muttered as he got his key out of his pocket.

Unlocking the door, he picked it up and made his way in. He set the box down on the small kitchen table before grabbing a knife from the cabinet. He sat down and set to cutting the tape along the opening.

Peeling back the flaps, he took a peek at the contents only to be faced with a mound of yellow and black sparkly tissue paper, with a letter on top.

"What do we have here?" he muttered to himself, as he took the envelope out of the box.

Ripping it open, he got a small greeting card out. It had a yellow smiley face on it with the word "Smile!" printed above it. He flipped it open, and his eyes fixed on the printed text that said "Because today is your day!" Underneath it, written in chicken-scratch was written the following: "Looks like the bat has a new signal. At least mommy and daddy won't know how fast you replaced them!" it was signed with a simple J and yet another smiley face.

Danny frowned. "Weird."

Then, he peeled back the paper to find a taxidermied yellow-and-black bird Danny couldn't recognize, with its wings broken.

"This is definitely not mine," Danny said as he looked at the bird. Hopefully the real owner of this wasn't going to be too disappointed it had been this damaged in transit.

Danny took up the box to look at the delivery address, only to find that while this was for his apartment, the name of the receiver was marked as "Duke Marlon Thomas". It took one quick google search to find a phone number. Danny thanked whoever the sender was for including a middle name as it narrowed the search greatly. Dialling the number, Danny got up to get himself a glass of water. As he got the glass out, the line connected.

"Hello?" he heard a surprisingly young voice say. Well, assuming apparently made an ass of Danny. Maybe taxidermy really did appeal to all ages.

"Hi, my name's Danny. I think I got your package by accident."

"My package?" The guy on the other side asked, perplexdely.

"Yeah, a big box with a bird in it?" Danny answered. "Listen, man I'm sorry, I think the wings broke during transit, I swear it was already like that when I opened it-"

"What bird?" Now the guy sounded even more confused.

Well now, Danny was starting to get confused. "A taxidermied black-and-yellow bird?" Danny sounded out, then he grabbed the note and let his eyes go over it again. "There was a note too, I opened it, sorry about that." Danny winced, before trying for a joke to hopefully get the guy to soften up on him. "Whoever that J- friend is, he's got a weird sense of humour."

"J- friend?" the voice on the other side of the phone said. Guess, the joke hadn't gone over well, because his voice had gone tense.

"Yeah," Danny answered withholding a sigh, damn his curiosity. Opening other people' letters was not only a gross invasion of privacy but also a federal crime. Hopefully the guy wouldn't stay mad too long. "It was signed with the letter J and a smiley face."

"Whoever you are," said the guy, and the urgency in his voice had Danny straightening up. "You need to get out of here right now."

"What-?"

Just then, the door to Danny's apartment was blown open.

"I hope you're ready, birdie," a voice outside sounded, before a spindly man in a purple suit, green hair and sickly-looking skin walked in.

"Because you and me are going to have so much fun."

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #batman #the signal #duke thomas #danny fenton #the joker #danny is confused #who is this skinny little man dressed in a funny little suit and why is he in his house #meanwhile duke is freaking the FUCK out #can be duke x danny or just gen #roxpox #roxpoxwrote #I think I have a cold #and I just ran out of cough drops #woe is me

3K notes · View notes

runnning-outof-time · 7 months

Note

Omggg congrats on 3.5k!! That’s incredible! Duuuude this short prompt blurb challenge is gonna blow up! For me, would you be open to doing one with Tommy, using the prompt sentence, “Look at me right now”? He sure can be demanding when he wants something lolol🥰🥵again, congratulations dear! You deserve all the love!

Oh thank you so much for sending this in @tragiclotus ! You’re so right - he really can be! I hope you like what I did with this, and that you’ve been enjoying the blurbs I’ve been sharing! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find more stories here!

No One But You

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, worry of past lovers returning…nothing too major

Word Count: 1018

Summary: Tommy assures (Y/N) that she’s the only woman he wants after two women from his past reappear in his life.

She must’ve read the return address a dozen times. Why? She didn’t know. It wasn’t like reading it again was going to make the sender’s name change. But yet she did anyway.

(Y/N) knew who Grace was. She’d heard about her; knew what she’d done to Tommy and his family. So why the hell was she sending him letters now?

At first she spoke to Polly, who told her to hide them. As a clerk at the postmaster’s office, she’d make sure to bring any mail the Shelbys received with her whenever she’d come to visit her boyfriend. When she’d arrive at Watery Lane, she’d follow the older woman’s suggestion and promptly slip the envelope into one of the side table’s drawers; hoping that Tommy wouldn’t find them there. But they just kept coming.

And now as she was walking to Watery Lane with what was the fifth letter Grace had sent, she didn’t know if she could keep up with hiding them. So instead she kept it in her hands, re-reading it until she heard the door open.

She stood to her feet at the sound and walked over to greet her boyfriend, accepting his kiss and shoulder squeeze as a greeting. Tommy knew something was wrong the second he pulled away. (Y/N) wasn’t wearing her usual, welcoming smile. Instead, her expression was blank.

“Has something happened?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“This came in to the post today,” she answered him, extending her hand to hold the envelope out between them.

Tommy’s brows furrowed deeper as he scanned over the words written on the envelope.

“Why does she keep writing you?” (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from asking, desperate to know why he was still receiving letters from her.

She and Tommy had entered a relationship only five months ago, but she was no stranger to the life that he lived and the company he’d kept in the past. Tommy Shelby was sought after by many, and somehow she’d gotten lucky…or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. No matter how many times his actions reassured her that he was hers alone, that nagging seed of doubt still crept into her mind. Like it was doing now.

“I don’t know why,” he answered with a shake of his head, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left for New York.”

“She’s written to you five times,” (Y/N) couldn’t withhold the information any longer. Tommy’s brows furrowed again upon hearing her admission, so she decided to elaborate: “Polly said that I shouldn’t give them to you; that I should hide them instead. They’re in the side table. I don’t know why I listened to her. I just…I couldn’t bring myself to give them to you.”

Tommy looked down at the letter and back to (Y/N), seeing that she was now biting on her lip, a nervous tendency of hers that he’d noticed fairly early into their relationship.

“May Carleton also came to meet you last week…” she spoke again after silence had hung in the air for a few moments.

“She needed to speak about the horse,” he answered in a nonchalant manner, not thinking much more of the meeting he had with the other woman.

(Y/N), of course, was overthinking it.

“Hey…” Tommy brought her out of her thoughts, making her focus on him again. “I can see you fighting with yourself. Let those thoughts go.”

“I can’t…I just can’t help but wonder if maybe, if maybe that, that with them coming back…” she tried to speak but her mind betrayed her, and the lump that formed in her throat stopped her from speaking altogether.

Not much more was needed to connect the dots though. The clues had been dropped and Tommy was quick enough to pick them up and place them in order. “Those women are in the past, (Y/N). You’re the one I want,” he spoke with sincereity, hoping that it’d quell the thoughts swirling around her mind.

(Y/N) held eye contact with him until she couldn’t anymore. She felt those worries still bubbling up inside of her, even though he’d just flat out told her that he wanted her. She dropped her gaze to her fingers, watching as she picked at her nails.

“(Y/N)…” Tommy tried to get her attention, but to no avail. “Look at me right now,” he went another route, using his index and middle finger to raise her eyes to his again. He could see that they were watery now, and he hated that she was thinking so far into this. He took her cheeks into his hands, pulling her the slightest bit closer to him before speaking again. “There’s no one but you, ok? You’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I want,” he reiterated his point, his eyes searching hers as he spoke. “Ok?” he asked again after she hadn’t spoken in a few moments.

“Ok,” (Y/N) breathed out, nodding her head the best she could with it held in his hands. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself. When she opened them again, they immediately hooked onto Tommy’s intense blue ones. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” she felt that she had to apologize.

“Don’t be,” he shook his head slightly at her statement, “there’s no reason for you to be sorry, love.”

“But I…”

“No,” he cut her off, “I’m going to burn this letter, and any other letter that comes. You’re the one I want, (Y/N).”

A small smile formed on her face at his words. She reached out and gently ran the back of her hand down his cheek, watching as his eyes dropped to her lips. Knowing what was coming next, she closed her eyes, leaning in slightly and meeting him in the middle, their lips finding each other’s in a passionate kiss that rid her mind of all of her doubts.

“No one but you, love,” Tommy whispered against her lips before kissing them again.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

854 notes · View notes

leavemebetosleep · 6 days

Text

Half the time I don't answer asks, it's just because the sender didn't give me anything to respond to. Like this is just a statement. It's not a question or a compliment or even hate. What am I supposed to say to this.

Like I'm not mad at the sender but I'm also not sure what they were expecting me to say back. So it just sits there while I fail to come up with something to say in return.

#like please feel free to send me asks!#but like #I'm not sure what to do with a few of these

154 notes · View notes

oishiyani · 1 month

Text

🦐 ; Bigger Hints

warnings ; implied yandere behavior, contains nsfw, stalking, dark explicit content, gore(?) well slightly, NOT proof read (im sorry)😿, fem reader

wc ; 2,241

might make a few more bunch of these with the others in mind 😸!

maybe taking on the offer of the one and only fyodor dostoevsky wasn't such a bad idea at first. taking on the job to be an undercover spy for him, your job was to only spy on the list of people he gave to you. atsushi, dazai, blah blah blah.. a whole bunch of random people you don't even know from before. well not until now that you're already trying to pinpoint their whereabouts.

and in return, you get money. that's right- money.

you liked money, with it's own multiple purposes- to buy new clothes, food, accessories, some new shoes.. oh how it was such a dream for you to achieve those. i mean, the job was to only spy on them, don't act suspicious.. and don't get caught, those were the last thoughts before you accepted the job, signed the contract you were offered from fyodor.

fyodor.. was a strange and quite gave off an unsettling vibe for you. from his outfit dressed oddly to his dark mauve colored eyes gazing at you as you try to drink your tea in peace while you two were in the same room. why'd he have to look at you like that?! it was making the atmosphere quite a bit awkward so you shifted your gaze somewhere else quickly after meeting sight with him.

focus on something else... oh the music! yes, yes, y/n. just listen to the music and enjoy your food, don't look at fyodor for god's sake!

it had been already more than a few times of exchanging stares from each other between you and fyodor, you had to ask yourself why does he have to look at you so often? not like something's wrong with what you're wearing right? or maybe there was something on your face?

you assumed that fyodor has an interest in orchestra music. he would always play them while you two were doing nothing, his eyes closed as he listened to the tune while you sat there or while resting. you weren't allowed to bring your phone in fyodor's base. it was forbidden but you don't dare to ask why.

"soo.. how long have you been listening to orchestra music, fyodor?" you asked in hopes to lessen the unhandy feeling. starting a conversation to expect a reply when he did the opposite. now that made you felt quite embarrassed- or maybe he didn't hear you through the sound of the music running in the background?

great, now you just wanna bury yourself under the dirt.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

as days passed, fyodor's behavior made quite a curve.. rather than usual.

now, starting a conversation with him was the least likely thing you wanted to take action on. thinking that he was the person who didn't like to be disturbed after the 'awkward' event that happened a few days ago. but now was different.

he was getting quite getting verbal with you, besides the conversation of your report on the strange men you spied- fyodor started making side comments after your reports. it would sometimes be questions of what else did you do besides spying? or what did you eat today? or, did you take a bath?

then to be surprised to feel a vibration from your pocket after finishing your break in fyodor's base. receiving an unknown number through your phone. the message stating 'this is fyodor.'

now that felt the slight goosebumps on your skin. how'd he even get your number? you don't remember giving out your number to anyone these past few weeks.

you shrugged it off, telling your self it was no big deal. being familiar with fyodor didn't set you off, although you still wonder how'd he get your number from the start.

the next day you asked fyodor on how'd he get your number, to be only answered by silence and another music piece of orchestra playing in the background, was he avoiding your question- or did he not hear it again?

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

the next few days again, you receive such special and luxurious gifts outside your doorstep from an unknown sender. they would vary, to sets of bouquets, expensive chocolates, high quality essentials, and branded clothes and bags. and a gigantic fluffy teddy bear.

of course you were really shocked. at first, you thought that the sender might be sending a bunch of these gifts to the wrong person or the wrong address. but unfortunately the gifts didn't give any clue who was sending it, not even a note or an initial somewhere. truthfully you wanted to return it out of guilt, feeling that you don't deserve much of these- still thinking this must be for another person but mistaken you for that person. yet you still kept them, stacking it around the empty spaced corner you had in your dorm.

you're making money out of this job you have, you can get all of those one day if you finally start a career and become successful one day using the saved up cash you get from your job.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

on the last day of your contract, which stated that you only needed to do this for a month. unexpectingly your relationship between fyodor had become more.. closer?

fyodor started to question more about your personal life, your family, past history, relationships, your friends, experiences that you found funny. he listened while you kept talking. and one time, you swore that you heard him mumble, but you were in the middle of talking as you were pouring the kettle filled with tea onto your empty tea cup.

sitting on the fancy looking sofa, fyodor who's roots are surprisingly removed from his chair he usually sat on- instead, he sat near the single fancy looking chair just beside the long sofa you were sitting on.

"i'd love to hear your voice forever."

"sorry, i didn't hear what you said! what were you saying again?" you spoke as your hurried to place the kettle back to its old position.

to his reply, "oh- nothing, you can continue."

you blinked for a moment, "alright, so-" continuing what you were saying without a single curiosity on what he previously said. you assumed maybe it was just the wind? well that was funny for a wind to sound like fyodor that time. but once again, the poor oblivious y/n was going about to dive in the danger zone.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

"n-ngh.. ah-" fyodor hissed under his shortened breath, huffing as he watching from the desktop in front of him as his hand was moving up and down furiously around his cock from the displayed footage in his desktop.

a live footage of you, completely naked after your shower. it was such a delightful image to see in his eyes, your body wet, the way the water droplets drooped on your skin, your pair of tits who fyodor was craving to fondle.

god, it was making him so crazy. watching you dress up in a sexy looking dress- it was even the dress fyodor sent you. your bare ass faced in front of the camera made his action fasten- he bit his lips, his hand pumping his throbbing cock till he reached to his climax. making his cum stain on the screen of his desktop.

fyodor gulped the lump on his throat, calming his breathing when you were almost finished with dressing up yourself- you were grabbing a pair of heels then a doorbell suddenly rang on your door. it was 8pm, now who could that be? "coming!" you shouted, grabbing the purse that was on your bed.

fyodor watched you wear those pair of heels in a haste, you tried to run after wearing them- yet still being careful not to trip. he continued to watch you out of curiosity on who was on your doorstep in the middle of the night. unfortunately for him, the creek to your room showed a silhouette of you and another person who was taller than you, had quite a large figure, and was a man, he thought.

the built-in camera inside the teddy bear he sent you recorded the conversation coming through the hallway, both of you and the man's voices echoing loud enough for the camera to reach the volume. to fyodor's reaction, it really was the worse that y/n can imagine.

"are you ready for our date?" the voice of a man spoke

"mhm, didn't expect you to get here at the exact time we talked about!" your voice replied.

something inside fyodor was burning intensely, his heart felt a painful ache he couldn't prevent- his hands balled into a fist while his eyes glared at the screen after hearing what he just heard. a date? with this man he never knew of? how ridiculous.

he thought that you were getting the hints he was giving, although to you- it barely even got into your mind that he was into you by showing the sudden curve of behavior.

he had to make a bigger hint on who you only belong to.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

the contract ended with fyodor, you were now a cashier for a bakery- still saving up money for the career you want to pursue.

everything was as normal as usual, a day where you work, go home, eat, sleep. then to wake up to your new fiance cooking you a good smelling breakfast in the morning. you met your partner by just stumbling upon him by the street, spilling coffee on you that stained what you were wearing, offered to pay and treat you to a restaurant- he insisted alot so you couldn't help but agree, then that's where all the talking started.

he was a night shift worker who worked as an engineer. while you worked from afternoon to around the evening.

then suddenly, every important people in your life, disappear one by one.

receiving an email of a photo of your fiance caught kissing another woman in a club- heartbroken then went to seek comfort through your friends, but they refused to be in contact with you, you didn't know why!

you were in the lowest point of your life.. you seek your family, calling your mom- hoping that she'd pick up but to misfortune hitting you, you only got a message that says they're not available. for after 30+ calls every hour?!

you don't know what's happening.. you ask yourself what is happening? you were confused, so confused. you lied there on your bed for who knows how many days you were sobbing with red puffy eyes surrounded with tissues all over the place.

curled up into a ball, you were fired from your job for being absent for weeks without any reason. now that just made it worse for you- the feeling of being back to zero, now who were you to turn to now?

'fyodor..' wait, that's right.. fyodor! maybe you could take his job again, in hopes to get progress through life being rough on the road.

you sat up from your bed, feeling a bit of back pain from lying for too long. you stood up and quickly grabbed a jacket and wearing it- there you took the route you were once familiar with. to the way to get to the man fyodor's place.

finally arriving to his place which was located in a forest, you walked up to the door and gathered the courage to knock. just knock y/n.. just like before, like you always did.. fyodor knows you right?

with a silent moment, you knocked 3 times. then a few seconds passed you overthinked that maybe he doesn't live here anymore. or maybe he wasn't hear- or maybe he just didn't want to answer the door-

the sound of the doorknob turned, you were startled but your body felt nervous for seeing a person you haven't seen for a while.

and there you met eyes again with the man, one and only- fyodor. he still looked the same as ever from the last time you saw him, he greeted you with a smile as he looked down at you.

"fyodor! i-"

you were cut off by fyodor's sudden offering of a small box with a ribbon wrapped on it.

"what's this..?" you asked.

"oh, open it so you can find out." fyodor replied.

you took the small box out of the palm of his hands, with one pull of the strand of the ribbon untied it. you opened the lid of the box.

a flash of horror and disgust was on your face, immediately recognizing what was inside.. it was the finger of your fiance.. the finger where he wore the matching rings he gave you when he proposed to you.

"what the fuck!" you dropped the box out of shock, you looked at fyodor with your legs feeling weak as they tremble- your breath started to shake. you felt stunned. paralyzed.

fyodor smiling at you, how did he get that in the first place..? you had so much questions running your mind, they continue and continue.. and continue till your nose was covered with a cloth.

your vision blurred, you felt your consciousness fading. what was happening? were you dying? you finally collapsed, being caught in fyodor's arms as he gazed at you the way he gazed you from the beginning.

fyodor's arms wrapped around your unconscious body, pulling you close to kiss your forehead. a smile of victory.

"you're mine.. all mine my little мышь"

#bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #yandere fyodor x reader #fyodor x reader #doa x reader #decay of angels x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere fyodor #yandere fyodor x y/n #yandere fyodor x you #bungo stray dogs imagine #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere bsd x reader

146 notes · View notes

whosxafraid · 2 years

Photo

Have a great day!

@therealgamble

“Tryin’ to sweetin’ me up…be workin’. D'anks, Cabana. Day be goin’ much be'er now.”

#[ thank u. always feels nice to get these ]#[ i hope you have a great day and week too ]#[great way to start my birthday count down too lol -hugs- ]#A Seal and a Ranger Walk Into A Bar || Brian and Luka #Traveling Soldier || Military AU [ Closed ]#Return to Sender || Answered Asks

1 note · View note

yawarakaizai · 6 months

Note

Yan!dazai mindbreaking angel!reader ooo

ⵌ WATCH HER BREAK JUST LIKE A DOLL

SENDER Angel!Reader (Fem) RECIPITENT Yandere!Dazai (BSD) CONTENTS NSFW DARK CONTENT 16+ , obsession/possession, drugging, mind-breaking, reader is a hostage?, unhealthy relationship, dubcon/nc??, abuse (physical implied + mental), slight somnophilia, lowkey angsty, dazai is an asshole!, smut part isn't really detailed (WARNING; This relationship is unhealthy and should not be used as an example. Reader here does not hold Dazai accountable. If you are in an abusive relationship, please seek help from someone you trust or a professional! This fanfic does not idolise nor condone abuse within relationships) NOTE All these years of feeling inadequate and dumb. You were proud to have grown accustomed to Dazai's routine, even if he had promised you months ago he had changed. COMPANY Dolly

A/N combined 2 asks I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ASK BUT IT WAS A YANDERE DAZAI NSFW IDEA im so sorryy ... also any other yan dazai req ! !! srry for the long wait ;; !! reader is an angel !! she was kind of created ,,? kinda like sigma !! the og req had an idea abt aphrodisiacs but ... not sure if i want to write about them just yet :( so sorry!!

Dutiful and pristine, you were a model wife.

Delicate and gorgeous. Just how he liked you to be.

You were brought her to serve as his prize. His reward for years of watching you from afar, stalking you like a lions meal. And you, pure and kind-hearted, not once ever suspected a thing.

Dazai was your co-worker after all. A smart, handsome man with a positive future.

Back before this all, you were nothing but a mere fascination to not only him, but your peers as well. You were never offended or hesitant to answer questions others would have about you. How you came to be, whether you remember anything, and if those feathers of yours regrow.

You coped with everything by dissociating as much as possible. If you could believe hard enough - Dazai was still the Dazai you knew before. The man next to you who'd pout when ordered to finish his report, the one who would turn to you and try to flirt or make you giggle, knowing Kunikida would never dare give out to you.

How could anyone, after all? You only manifested a few years ago. What was it, eleven, or twelve. You can't remember. There was little you remember anyway.

The first few months with Dazai were a blur. You'd have blacked out for the majority of the day until he'd wake you up and force you to eat. If you'd refuse, he'd starve you until you'd beg.

You had tried to protest by going days without food or water but he always got his way in the end. You had to give in at some point.

The biggest obstacle was finding the guts to hate Dazai.

You were afraid to hate him. You were afraid to hate.

He'd treat you so gently and with love. Funnily enough, you blamed yourself for it all. You didn't know why or how, but you felt like if you had done things different, none of this would have happened.

Osamu was sweet. He always did what was right. You respected Kunikida and Fukuzawa immensely. If they trust Dazai, then so did you.

If you knew that you were a lamb handed to a wolf, maybe you would have ran much earlier.

Dazai did not show himself upfront. No. First, it was the mind games. The ghastly figures that would appear outside of your window in the form of blackened shadows, doors you remember closing being wide open when you return home, bangs and creaks around your home when you lived alone, your items disappearing from their usual spot, laundry vanishing completely, and countless mysterious messages from anonymous.

Second, it was you asking for help. You turned to who you admired best. The Armed Detective Agency. Ranpo scanned your phone. He read each message out loud before looking at you, then back down at your screen. He slid it back towards you. " There's nothing suspicious. It's just a prank. "

You felt relief. Ranpo had his ability, after all. The ability to figure out any mystery. He could not be wrong.

How dumb of you to think Ranpo would not be the first person Dazai would go to for his sick joke.

Third was the fever. It hit you like a brick. It was the first time you had been infected with a human illness. Dazai kindly offered to tend to you in his free-time, as everyone else was too busy. You were grateful that Dazai, an important member of the ADA, was sacrificing his time in helping you. He'd stop by almost every day and night to feed you and make sure you're alright. The more you drank that chalky water he'd give you daily before bed, the more you lost your ability to walk.

Fourth, was the inevitable. You waking up in a bed that was harder than yours. Upon observing around you, you realised you weren't in your house. And you don't recall ever sleeping next to Dazai. Naturally, you were afraid. You were in hysterics while he tried to calm you down, telling you stories on how it's safer for you to be here, and that you were an ungrateful bitch for not being grateful enough to him.

You didn't want to hear any of it. So? You were kept in his lovely basement.

There, you were badly treated. Sleeping on cold concrete and eating what scraps he'd leave on the floor for you like some animal - any form of resistance was met with harsh punishment.

You lacked survival instincts. You not once ever felt the need to. Working in the ADA, you were nothing but an accountant. You'd hear about the missions they'd go on, but to you it all seemed like the things you'd see in action films.

But this was real. The way your heart pounded in your ears every time you'd hear steps coming down and the way he'd tug your hair 'till your scalp would burn is something that the actors would never be able to portray properly.

It took you a while to realise you weren't going to make any progress by doing the opposite of what he wanted.

Though, you were admittedly conflicted.

You provided Dazai something interesting. If you let him use you, to spare yourself of his harsh punishments, would he get bored of you? Would he rid of you completely? Would he treat you more terribly to purposely make you act out just so he'd have a reason to strike you?

These were questions that would keep you up.

You couldn't be strong-willed for long. Hope that Kunikida or anyone else would come looking for you dwindled as the days went by and none would come but Dazai.

At some point, you had lost your voice for a while. In that period, Dazai took complete advantage of the fact. When you could do nothing but thrash and cry until you submit underneath him.

He'd pull out, collapse next to you and hold you close to his bandaged chest and apologise until he fell asleep with your hot breath against his skin.

Dazai had been your first time. He took an angel's virginity. You were frozen for the rest of the night. You were almost neutral to what had happened. You even wiped his tears away with your thumb. He apologised. He must surely be remorseful. He promised he wouldn't do it again.

You lost your halo that day.

'' Fetch me some water, I'm thirsty. "

His hand came off your head where it had been caressing.

You looked up at him through long lashes, slowly nodding your head and raising to unstable feet.

Ever since you were allowed to stay out of the basement, he's been helping you regain your ability to walk after the drugs had left your knees shaky.

Your movement was slow but gradual, at least.

If you wished to remain with Dazai, you'd have to obey him. And obey you did.

You fetched him his requested glass of water albeit spilling a tad bit on your way back, you presented him with it.

He peered in, then slouched back into the couch, gaze returning to the television screen. " I said orange juice. "

You were sure he said water.

" But you said water. " Your voice was meek compared to his.

" Are you saying I am lying? "

That shut you up.

You apologised, and travelled back to the kitchen to throw away the water and replace it with orange juice.

You'd bring it back, and he'd look at you with disappointment. " Why are you bringing me orange juice when I asked for apple juice? "

He sounded so convincing that you thought maybe you were mishearing. You held the orange juice in your hand tightly, apologised, and left to get the apple juice.

By the time you returned, you were shaking. The apple juice was dripping from the overfilled glass and onto the floor. You were trembling. " It's- It's apple juice. Because y-ou said.. "

Your gaze was so distant. You were so far away. You were no longer on this Earth. Dazai had to keep you grounded.

" You must be taking me for a fucking idiot. "

He slapped the glass right from your hand, your whole body jolted in shock when the glass shattered against the floor.

You two had just been cuddling on the couch, watching a noir movie like a happy couple would.

Dazai had to keep you grounded. He had to keep you on a leash lest you wander.

" Get over here. " He sighed out after a long pause. Instinctively, you answered, " No. "

It's been so long since you were punished. You didn't want to go back to them.

" I didn't do anything wrong ", your voice croaked out to reason. You should have figured at some point Dazai would get bored of a normal life style.

" I said get over here, Y/N, my patience is already running low. I'm not going to hit you. "

And no matter what you've been through, you'd wake up praying Dazai was kinder. He had overheard your nightly prayers one day and in an act of irony or sympathy - hung a cross over your bed.

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt before waddling to between his spread thighs. Hand reaching for your hip and guiding you down to sit on his lap, you avoided eye contact.

You were clearly afraid of being punished for something that was not your fault. You couldn't tell Dazai it wasn't your fault. That would be calling Dazai a liar. And that would get you hit. Good wives don't get hit.

True to his word, he did not raise his hand to you at all.

Once he opened his mouth to speak, you attentively turned to him. His training worked wonders on you. He made himself your God in a matter of months. You no longer worried your pretty little head on whether Kunikida would save you. All you had to do was clean around the house and prepare Dazai's meal - living to serve your husband.

" You've been such a good girl, don't ruin it with this, 'kay? " He didn't sound mad anymore, but you could still pick up on the fact he was not exactly happy with you either.

" Yes, 'samu. " You nod, toying with your fingers nervously.

" You're such a sweet wife. So dumb. So cute. Love seeing you panic. "

You bit your bottom lip at that, chewing on skin.

'' D'ya think It's about time we started our own family? "

You thought at first you didn't hear him properly. You knew you were trying to convince yourself so.

" Ahah.. " You were hesitant. He picked up on it. His dark brown eyes felt like lasers. " I don't think I can. I'd love to, 'samu, but I can't. "

He let go of his soft grasp on your hip to allow you to stand up.

It was 9pm. You should head to bed.

His silence and poker face felt foreboding.

" Goodnight, love. " You tried to remain cheerful.

You went to bed earlier than Dazai. You climbed into your shared bed after having taken your nightly medication.

You fluffed out your wings - once white, now grey - then tossed and turned until you slept.

" Hah.. hah.. "

The burning heat is what hit you first.

Confusion was second.

" Wakin' up, pretty baby? "

Your mouth opened by itself before your eyes did, and when you tried to speak, to ask what is going on, you let out a soft moan.

You feel something sink in deeper in your pussy, the wooden bed frame hitting against a wall. Oh.

" 'Samu! " Your eyes shot open upon realising what was happening. Dazai had not done this for a while. The room was dark. Judging by how dry your mouth was, you had been fast asleep for a while.

Dazai was propped on his knees between your thighs, naked from what you could make out.

You looked further down to realise that he had shoved his dick in you while you were asleep. Your nightgown was pulled up over your stomach and his hands were holding on loosely to your hips.

Your hand reached out to grip onto his wrist, your legs unable to close. " No, you said you were gonna be better, you said no more of this. " Oh, you sweet poor child.

" It's alright. " He responded casually, pulling out just to slam back in. Although your vision was limited, you could feel his piercing stare studying your contorting features. " Just this once, yeah? "

You remembered your conversation with Dazai earlier. The sudden question about having a child.

When you tightened around the base of his shaft, he knew what you were thinking.

" Don't get all scared, baby. You'd make an amazing mom. " He would bend down, his mouth next to your ear as he'd begin thrusting.

You lay unresponsive and silent, staring at the ceiling - your only solace.

His huffs, groans and sighs muffle themselves on your pillow, your body would temporarily jolt in spasms with each orgasm.

Dazai continued for hours.

At some point, your hands were tangled in messy brown hair, your mouth hung and your voice would plead for 'more', 'there', 'deeper'.

Your sweet husband never pulled you back when you drifted off to space with your longing gaze.

He barely even met you in the eye.

Dazai finished his rounds before you noticed. It was a period of him not touching you that made you turn your head sideways to meet him laying next to you, his chest still raising and falling as he'd regain his breath.

You hadn't moved your body.

Adjusted to the dark, you couldn't help but stare at the pitiful man who spoke nothing to you.

An emptiness weighed your heart down and the liquid love he had planted in you seeped - unwelcomed.

You still felt bad for him. Surely, definitely, this was not his fault.

" I'd like a girl. "

Your lips trembled, you smiled to hide it.

" Two.. daughters. "

The corners of your lips quivered with your fake expression. He could see your eyes gloss and your shivering body, blinking rapidly until your tears slid down.

You never did want children. Not with Dazai, at least. Not for another few years. Not here, not now, not with him. Not this Dazai.

He left you waiting for a while, until he rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling that enamoured you with amazement when he had made love to you.

" Yeah. "

He sounded uncertain, before continuing his response. You had expected it. All these years of feeling inadequate and dumb. You were proud to have grown accustomed to Dazai's routine, even if he had promised you months ago he had changed.

" 'm sorry. "

" I know. "

#dazai x reader #yandere dazai #bsd x reader #yandere dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader

400 notes · View notes

safiirimaagi · 2 years

Note

“ punishment hardly ever suits the victims of a crime ” (from Rider)

Alice Madness Returns | Accepting @maledicti-oculi

"Do you speak from your own experience?" Astraea looked at Rider, at the visor the purple-haired woman wore to cover her Mystic Eyes. It was a cruel thing that had happened to her, as her crimes were beauty and being loved.

The gods were petty, jealous, and childish. They took as easily as they gave. Even Astraea herself was not exempt. Even so, she had always tried to maintain neutrality. One that was coming into question at the moment.

"It is not my place to ask forgiveness for Athena, but I offer it all the same. What her wrath brought you was unjust."

#maledicti oculi #【return to sender | answered asks】#【once i too was nothing but stardust | astraea】#//nervously slides this over #//hoi

2 notes · View notes

the-ace-with-spades · 8 months

Text

An AU where Jake didn't go to USNA but got a scholarship for football at the same uni Bradley got a scholarship for baseball.

They're both part of NROTC but Bradley is a second-year midshipman and he's one of the very few midshipmen who are not mentoring anyone in the program dunno how nrotc works I'm guessing similar to our military youth programs, bear with me

He's instantly intrigued — Bradley seems to be the most unavailable person in the whole program, never really engaging for after-training outings or parties, never making small talk and never trying to even make connections that would help with networking once they were commissioned.

So Jake kind of observes from afar for the first few months and he realizes Bradley is exactly the same outside of NROTC too.

Despite the lack of engagement, every single instructor and coordinator from the program seems to know him. More so, most of them don't even comment on his lack of extracurricular engagement or mentorship, but even send him off for extra trainings that are typically only awarded for being exceptional.

They live in the same student building but on different floors. Bradley is an RA for his floor and the female-only floor above, something Jake only discovers when his own RA is kicked out and his heating problem is delegated to Bradley.

Bradley is also a TA (which is very unusual for a sophomore) for one of the physics professors — Jake is studying mechanical engineering and Bradley is doing aerospace engineering and he sometimes sees Bradley assisting, even if it's mostly for different majors.

Jake's fascination grows even more because he doesn't get it — Bradley is unavailable to anyone but he's also so nice. Most of the students in the dorm he's coordinating like him, which is not really something that happens with RAs, he's respected both by the midshipmen and their instructors and seniors, many of which keep on friendly jabs with him or extend invitations to outings despite Bradley's repeated refusals. He is incredibly nice to the actual few students who come for help from him as a TA, from what Jake heard, and he's got a good few girls crushing on him, some of which are pretty popular in the uni circles.

Despite that, he doesn't seem to have any friends. Jake doesn't see him at parties, or going outs, or study groups, or even of some midshipmen-organized extra trainings. It's like he's keeping everyone at arm's length.

Finally, he has an occasion to start something with Bradley when he goes downstairs to the mail room. Technically sorting the mail and putting it in the right boxes outside of the mail room is the porter's room but the porter seems to be there maybe four hours a week so usually they just break into the room and look for their own shit in the mess.

He goes downstairs and Bradley is sitting on the floor with a list of the students in the building and a stamp with red RETURN TO SENDER, sorting through piles and piles of mail.

"I didn't think it was part of your job."

"It's not," Bradley answers. "Someone has to do it, might as well be me. Seresin, right?"

Jake doesn't squeal but oh god, Bradley knows his name. "Yeah."

"Your parcel is in the ready pile," he says, pointing his thumb parcels near the door.

"You want some help?"

"You've got nothing better to do on a Friday night?"

He could've asked the same question. "I have three assignments I need to procrastinate on."

Bradley gives him a long look but finally says, "Fair enough."

They stay in silence and Jake doesn't know how to start a conversation. Bradley seems focused and aloof and just, once again, so unavailable.

The opportunity arises when he is going over the stack of parcels in the corner of the mail room.

"Your name is Bradshaw, right?"

"Yeah."

"Those are for you."

"They're not."

"I mean, there's no room number but it does say Bradley Bradshaw."

Bradley is quiet for a minute but gets up from where he's been sitting on the floor and slowly walks to stand next to where the boxes are stacked on itself.

Without hesitation, he stamps both of them with RETURN TO SENDER.

"You aren't even going to check what's inside?"

He gets quiet again, looking at the stamp on top of the parcel far longer than needed, before he says, "I don't have any family left, whoever sent it isn't anyone I'd like to get anything from."

Jake bites down apologies — Bradley doesn't seem to be the type to need pity.

"It can't be returned to the post," Jake points out. "No return address."

Bradley sighs and takes out a pen from his pocket, leaning over the boxes.

He doesn't mean to snoop but he catches Bradley writing P.Mitchell & T.Kazansky in the addressee line and San Diego a couple lines lower. So obviously Bradley knew who it was from.

Some things change after that evening — Bradley answers his hi when they see each other at training or waves back when Jake sees him in the lecture hall or brings his mail straight to Jake's room and chats with him for a few minutes at his door.

But most things don't change — he still refuses to join any going outs, even if it's Jake asking him, still doesn't talk much to anyone, still refuses simple invitations to grab lunch together in the cafeteria or go to a movie later that week. Still seems to be using a Don't have time or If you don't need me, I'm going as frequent excuses. Still seems to be entirely unavailable to anyone who wants to catch him outside of his strictly obligatory settings.

He's talking about this with his mom, using the phone booth outside of their dorms, because he's never had trouble making friends with anyone (even if he admits he could make more than friends, with Bradley, eventually, maybe, wishful thinking aside) and his mom tells him, "He sounds really busy, baby, he probably doesn't have time for friends."

"How can you have no time for friends? It's college."

"Jakey, he isn't like you, he doesn't have any support from his family, he's probably struggling to stay afloat with the scholarships requirements and the college job and studying and military training on top of it."

"So what? There's no way to—be friends with him?"

"I think you'll have to fit into the free time in his schedule, baby. because that's the only kind he has."

It takes some time but he does realize that Bradley's time is truly limited. His days are packed tight, on top of what Jake already knew — the TA job, the RA job, the baseball scholarship and the NROTC training — he also works in the local garage one day a week. He literally has a few hours he can actually spend with someone during the day and Jake slowly tries to use them up.

Brings him coffee for the early morning walk-in tutoring he hosts at college, eats lunch with him when they have a training break, even as Bradley does his assigned reading and only half-pays attention to him, comes downstairs to the mail room every evening Bradley sorts through it, brings him cupcakes from the cafeteria on the lunch break between lectures, even though Bradley spends it alone in the professor's office, making lesson plans or marking papers. Visits him in the garage he works at and keeps on constant chatter as Bradley gets covered in black oil and stinks like fuel.

Slowly, he can see Bradley smiling when he sees Jake. Can see Bradley sharing his homemade divine lasagna and chicken soup made from scratch with Jake. Can see Bradley joining him in the gym, not just staying on the outside of the group. Can see Bradley chatting back as he continues to do what he's doing, no longer just letting Jake run his mouth.

There's a bit of a hiccup when Jake offers Bradley to join him on Christmas break in Texas — tells him they can drive if Bradley doesn't want to pay for plane tickets they can make a road trip of the thing and all. Only another call to his mom makes him aware that Bradley probably can't afford either and, as his mom doesn't hold back and points out Bradley won't react well if he offers to pay for it.

So instead, Jake stays for most of the Christmas break in the halls. Apparently, Bradley is organizing a small Chrismas dinner for anyone from the halls who is staying over (a total of seven people), so things get a bit busy — the spare time Bradley has is, well, spare. When he finally has the time, he is working in the garage or finishing his assignments — Jake sometimes forgets, with all the things Bradley does to stay afloat, that he's actually still a student — so he mostly trails behind him and chatters when he thinks it won't annoy Bradley too much.

Bradley offers to drive him to the airport. It's the first time he's offered to take a good chunk of his time and make it free by rescheduling things, just for Jake.

He even parks at the airport and walks him all the way to the security check line, not just leaves Jake in the drop-and-go area.

Jake gives him a small Christmas gift — a key chain with A4 Skyhawk he bought when he visited the aviation museum in Horsham with some of the other midshipmen. They both want to go into the aviation pipeline once graduated so it seems like something Bradley could like, even if it's a bit silly.

He wasn't sure, if Bradley would actually take it — he's been reluctant to take many things, every single lunch or coffee Jake got him had to be either repaid or covered by Bradley the next day.

But Bradley hugs him. Puts the key chain on his car keys ring.

When Jake comes back, he's expecting progress because, you know, Bradley's been warming up to him. Instead, Bradley seems to be dead on his feet, getting annoyed quicker than usually, going as far as telling Jake to 'keep quiet for a goddamn minute'. It all kind of becomes clear when he is car pooling with the guys for the NORTC training and sees Bradley, honest to god jogging the three miles from the halls to the training site, military backpack with his uniform and gear towering over his shoulder — it's five in the morning.

"You doing a new training regime or something? Running everywhere instead of driving like a normal human being?"

He doesn't look at Jake as he says, "The Bronco broke down."

"I mean, that car is older than you," Jake points out, trying to tiptoe around the issue and get Bradley to admit what the exact problem is — he never does, if you ask directly, Jake knows by now. It's like asking for help isn't in his nature.

"It's not safe to drive," he explains. "I can't brake in time anymore, the brakes are about to give out completely."

"Can't you fix it?"

"I need a new drum brake master cylinder," he says. When Jake stares at him, he adds, "It's gonna cost around two hundred bucks, which I don't have."

"I could lend you the money," he offers.

"I don't want your money," Bradley says, just like he thought he'd — taking any offered help from anyone isn't in his nature either.

So Jake tries to work around it — asks his dad and his uncles if there's anyone they know who could maybe give him the right master cylinder for free or at a very discounted price. When they finally find a guy who has a collection of spare parts for the early Broncos but no Broncos anymore and is willing to send the cylinder as long as someone pays for the postage, he writes down his number and promises his friend Bradley is going to call soon about that.

And thank the fucking god, Bradley accepts this kind of backhanded help.

Bradley fixes the Bronco on the hall's parking lot. He jogs from the garage with a borrowed jack lift strapped to his back, pops the car on it and the other one he already has in the trunk so the wheels are up, pops the tires off and pops the front mask up and gets his white tank and plaid shirt covered in grime. It's already dark by the time he takes the jacks away and sits behind the wheel.

Jake's spent the whole time uselessly chattering to him as he always does — he has absolutely no idea about cars — but he lets himself be waved into the passenger seat.

Bradley drives out of the parking lot, down the empty road to the campus and brakes so hard Jake has to hold himself up against the dashboard.

"Better than new," Bradley says and Jake's never seen him grinding as widely and as honestly as he is now.

He is sweaty and covered in oil and stinking a bit, but his curls are flopping on his forehead and the ratty mustache he's been growing lately is out of order and he's looking at Jake with those big brown cow eyes — he just can't not kiss him.

So he leans over the console and kisses the smile on his face.

The leap of faith pays of because Bradley keeps on kissing him — he pulls the hand brake on and lets both his hands settle on Jake's waist and things continue until Jake is being guided onto the backseat over the console and being kisses again and again, and Bradley's hands go lower and lower.

They get each other off and then go back to the halls. They don't talk about it but now any time they're alone — in the lecture hall, in the mail room, in Jake's or Bradley's room — he can just lean in and kiss him as much as he wants to and still get the brightest of smiles as a reward.

They're back in the mail room and maybe Jake's just spent twenty minutes trying to crawl up Bradley's lap (to no avail) when he notices — Bradley got another package, this time PLEASE AT LEAST LOOK THROUGH THE THINGS BEFORE SENDING IT BACK written in bold marker on top.

Bradley curtly tells him to just stamp it with RETURN TO SENDER. But he can't help himself — he gets his keys out and cuts through the tape on top, opening the giant box.

"Jake—"

He takes out the first thing that's on top of the pile inside — a stuffed goose the size of over half of Jake's torso. It's a bit grayed up and smells like dust but it's also so cute.

"That yours?"

Bradley gets up from where he's sitting so quick — a second and he's next to Jake, taking the plushie out of his hands. "Ducky—"

"Ducky? That's a goose, isn't it?"

Bradley is honest to god red in the face but doesn't let go of the goose, bringing it closer to his chest and it's freaking adorable. "I was two, I couldn't tell the difference."

"So," Jake says, feeling like he's defusing a bomb. "You still wanna send it back?"

"I—I don't know."

"Maybe—Maybe I could help with that," he offers. "If I know the details, or at least some of them."

It takes him a minute but when Bradley finally starts talking, everything just spills out of him. He tells Jake about his dad, and about his mom, and then about his other dad and pops. He doesn't get too into details but they come around back to his last year in high school and how his dad pilled his papers and they haven't talked since Bradley found out and left the house with a bag and his car and nothing else.

Jake says, "That's just stupid."

The second it leaves his mouth, he knows he's said the wrong thing even if it was honest — he can see in real-time as Bradley rolls back into himself, closing off in less than a minute and suddenly there's so much distance between them.

He angrily writes down the same P.Mitchell & T.Kazansky and San Diego address on top and chucks the goose plushie back inside.

"I guess I'm stupid then," he says quietly and a blink and he's out of the mail room. He's not answering when Jake knocks on his room door.

Jake doesn't have the heart to actually let that package go back to P.Mitchell & T.Kazansky, or Bradley's dad and pops. So he brings it into his room upstairs.

He doesn't mean to go over the things inside, not too much, but he thought he could at least grab the goose — Ducky — and give it a wash. When he reaches inside, there's a goddamn plushie of a Spitfire in there, its tag saying RAF Museum, London, and Jake can't help looking for more.

There are photos and polaroids, three people commonly on all of them with a baby Bradley. Old Hawaiian shirts, a leather jacket, knots of seashell jewelry, a few rolled-up posters, a whole notebook with handwritten recipes, birthday cards.

He doesn't look any further but instead takes the return address from the box and writes up a postcard to P.Mitchell & T. Kazansky saying he'll force Bradley to keep it all.

Problem is, Bradley isn't talking to him, no matter how hard he tries. He thought he'd be like that for a few weeks at the most and then forget but he's worse than he was before he and Jake met in the mail room for the first time — doesn't even say a word to him when Jake tries to start a conversation, he's gone so far as to change his complicated schedule completely so Jake can't see him outside of NROTC and his TA role.

He calls his mom again.

"Jakey, honey," his mom says, with a tone that suggests he's an idiot. "That boy bared his soul to you and you said his feelings were stupid."

#not finishing it sorry #they get back together and Jake forces him to talk to Mav and Ice after all but it takes like two years #(also he doesn't realize that T.Kazansky is the four star admiral Kazansky until he actually meets them on Thanksgiving)#this should be a 60k slow burn fic but i don't have enough energy #or time #sorry #i hated uni and i might be going back to it so im having the feelsTM #hangster #fic ideas #op #charlie writes

198 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 5 months

Note

Sending gifts to Mary secretly, thank you!

Benefactor

Mary Saotome x They/Them Reader

A/N: Here you go, hope you enjoy! Word Count: 1,471

“Yumeko, did you leave this on my desk?” Mary asked, somewhat suspicious of the small paper bag sitting right in the middle of her desk.

Yumeko circled the desk, hands clasped behind her back. “Nope.”

“Suzui?” Mary interrogated further, glaring suspiciously at the boy.

“N-no!” Ryota held his hands in front of his chest defensively.

“And Ririka had nothing to do with it either, nor Itsuki…” Mary grumbled, looking down at the returned texts on her phone. “I don’t like this.”

“You won’t open it?” Yumeko asked, eyebrows arched.

“Why would I look into a random bag with no indication as to who the sender is? In this crazy school? I don’t think so. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s fine Mary. How bad could it be?” Yumeko asked, skimming her fingers over the handle of the bag.

Mary crossed her arms. “It could be a trap. I’m not opening it.”

“Hmm… then I will take the gamble. I wouldn’t want to see this gift go to waste.” Yumeko stuck her hand into the back and was mildly disappointed to to only find a pack of pens. Granted they were really nice gel-ink pens, but for all the fuss Mary was making, Yumeko found it very underwhelming.

“Pens? Who the hell would want to give me pens?” Mary asked aloud, not really expecting an answer, but Ryota helpfully chimed in.

“Oh, weren’t you upset yesterday because you misplaced your favorite pen?”

“I wasn’t upset, just annoyed.” Mary clarified, because it was a very important distinction to her for some reason. “But the point is, if neither of you did it, then who? I only talked about it with you guys.”

“You were quite expressive about it Mary. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole class heard all of your complaints.” Yumeko teased, taking a seat at her own desk.

Mary glared at Yumeko and then looked down at the paper bag and pens distrustfully. So someone in her class had been eavesdropping on her conversations, hm? Well, Mary didn’t like that one bit. She did however, need new pens, so after carefully inspecting the packaging, she caved in and tore it open, placing the new pens in her pencil case and tossing the garbage out. All the while, she observed the classroom with a watchful eye, wondering which among her classmates gifted them to her and for what reason.

***

By the next week, Mary had lowered her guard concerning the mysterious gift, finally writing it off as the non-threatening gesture that it was. However, when she entered the classroom, she was faced with another package. This time, it appeared to be a neatly packed bento in a disposable box. Nothing that would give Mary clue nor cause to find the person who left it there.

“Good morning, Mary. Oo! What do you have here?” Yumeko weaved around the desks once she entered the classroom herself. “I thought yesterday you said you wouldn’t have time to make your own lunch today because of that early morning gamble we agreed to. I remember you weren’t looking forward to having to pay for lunch here. Highway robbery, I think is what you called it.”

“I didn’t make this. Someone left it here.”

“This early in the morning?”

Mary’s eyes glinted. It was early, so early, that there were hardly any other students at school. She already suspected one of her classmates. She could go to all the usual dens, see who was around. Process of elimination!

“Outta my way!” Mary stormed past Yumeko and out of the classroom to search the hallways and gambling dens. She found a couple of her fellow second year Hana classmates, but when pressed, they all claimed not to know what she was talking about. They couldn’t even offer up any possible culprits in their place. It was aggravating.

“Did you find your secret gift giver?” Yumeko asked once Mary strode back into the classroom.

“No.” She grumbled and crossed her arms. “Not yet anyway.”

***

Mary arrived just before classes begun that morning, noting that the rest of her classmates had filed into their seats. She slid into her seat and exhaled into her hands, rubbing them together vigorously. It had snowed last night, and the gloves she usually wore had a hole in one of them. She would wear them anyway, but in this school with its snooty, rich students, it would be a death sentence, so she would have to go without until she could get new ones… or until her secret gift giver did. And this time, she would be ready.

After going about her day, casually mentioning the weather and how cold her hands were to Yumeko and Ryota, she felt she has successfully planted the bait. She would catch them this time.

The next morning, she arrived to school early and hid in the corner of the classroom. She had reason to believe the gift would be dropped off at her desk like the times before, but she also rigged a small camera in her shoe locker just in case they switched it up and decided to put the gift in there. They must surely know she’s onto them by now after all.

Mary was almost falling asleep the the corner when the back classroom door slid open and she jolted awake. She stayed hidden, watching the figure step into the dark classroom. They crept to Mary’s desk and deposited a small box and that was exactly what Mary had been waiting for. Before the person could exit the classroom again as if they had never been there, Mary turned on the light.

“Aha!”

“Ah!” (Y/n) yelped and tripped over one of the desk chairs, tumbling to the floor.

Mary cursed and strode over, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah…” (Y/n) rubbed their ankle. “I’m fine…”

“Good.” Mary punched their shoulder.

“Ow!”

“Why are you sneaking around and leaving stuff for me on my desk?”

“I know you well enough that I know you wouldn’t accept the gifts if I tried to give them directly so I thought it was best to remain anonymous.” They rubbed their arm anxiously.

“You looking for favors?” Mary asked suspiciously.

“What? No!” (Y/n) gawked, “Of course not!”

“Then why are you doing this?”

(Y/n) flustered, “I just wanted to do some nice things for you because… well, because I like you and I think you’re awesome. I didn’t think you’d want anything grand so I listened to what you would tell your friends and got you little things that I thought you’d like or find useful. You aren’t mad… are you?”

It was Mary’s turn to fluster now, having (Y/n)’s concerned eyes looking up at her from the floor.

“N-no! Why would I be mad? Get off of the floor, you look pathetic.” Mary tugged (Y/n) to their feet. “I just think it was weird, that’s all.”

“Oh…” (Y/n) looked down at the floor and Mary internally slapped herself.

“Not bad weird just—“ she groaned, “thank you,” she murmured, “for the pens and the lunch and stuff. It was very thoughtful. I just don’t like surprises or mysteries. I have to deal with enough guessing games when at least one person tries to cheat me in every gamble.”

“I understand.” They smiled shyly and then picked up the thin box they had on Mary’s desk. “Then, here. This is from me… although, I guess that’s pretty clear now.”

“You don’t have to give me this you know.”

“I know, but I want to.” They smiled and presented her with the box, “Please, open it.”

Mary exhaled and took the box into her hands. She slid the ribbon off and popped the lid off, revealing a pair of warm-looking gloves. Pastel polka-dots with a cream base.

“I didn’t know what color would be best… but then I saw these and they reminded me of your thermos. Do you like them?”

Mary slipped one onto her hand. It felt almost as warm as her face felt in that moment.

“They’re more durable then I thought they would be just by looking at them. They’re really nice. I like them, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” (Y/n) breathed a sigh of relief.

It was quiet for a long moment and then Mary cleared her throat.

“It’s so damn early that I haven’t had breakfast yet. Want to come with?”

“To the cafeteria?”

“Hell no,” Mary waved her hand, “that’s highway robbery. We’re going to the convenience store.”

“Sounds like fun.” (Y/n) followed her out of the classroom.

“Great, let’s go then. I need coffee.”

Mary slipped the second glove on and put her coat back on and they walked out of the school together. She was definitely going to treat (Y/n) to a couple warm treats once they arrived at their destination.

#kakegurui oneshots #kakegurui x reader #mary saotome x reader #maeri saotome x reader #requests #anonymous

102 notes · View notes

copperbadge · 5 months

Note

Hey Sam, I remember reading a post or response from you about how to give to charities anonymously, but now that I’m searching, I’m finding a few different responses but still have questions. Any chance you could do a round up post? Wondering about the following:

1. How to give cash

2. How to give small amounts anonymously (e.g., if you can’t set up a DAF)

3. How to opt out of being sent branded junk if you can’t give anonymously, because it will end up in the garbage (seriously, no more pens, stickers or magnets please)

4. In giving anonymously, how important is the tax receipt? I only take the standard deduction on my taxes… is there a reason to bother with tracking the receipts?

Appreciate your help!

Ah yeah, it's rough knowing how to do some of these things. I've written about some of them, probably most of them, but disparately over several posts, so let me see if I can answer succinctly and all in one place.

How to give cash: You are pretty much confined to two options, giving cash to a staffer in person or mailing cash in an envelope. If you have access to the office of the nonprofit you may be able to swing by and drop the cash off, but it's not super convenient and often not possible. If you're at an event you can hand it in an envelope to a staffer, and that's really the only way my organization gets cash donations, but that requires you to be at the event. And technically I can't recommend mailing cash since the risk of theft is a real one. Giving cash is fine legally, but nonprofits often aren't thrilled with it because it can put their staff at risk and also there's, well, there's no way to track that donation to a person. But yeah, throw them dollars between two thick sheets of paper and mail that in with a note saying "This is for the XYZ organization" so they know they can accept it.

2. Giving small amounts anonymously: It depends on how you're defining 'small'; I have a DAF (for the readers: a Donor Advised Fund -- I talk a little about them here but I've never gone indepth) which has no minimum deposit or minimum monthly contribution, but they do have a minimum donation amount of $20. To me that's not especially large, but I know to many people it can be. Pretty much the only way to give an amount smaller than $20 anonymously is to give online through the nonprofit's website using a cash giftcard (like a Visa gift debit card), and just not give an address. If you custom-order checks you can sometimes order checks without a home address, or with the bank's address, and pay with one of those, but I've never tried that.

If you do use a DAF (and I can recommend Charityvest, they've been mine for several years now) you can always set up to pay small amounts into it and just have them send all that money in a lump sum once or twice a year. I pay in $75/mo and from that they pay out three $20 donations a month, and at the end of the year the extra $180 that has just sat there becomes a nice extra donation. Always bearing in mind of course that once you pay into a DAF that money is gone, you can't claw it back even if you haven't "donated" it yet -- just putting money in a DAF is considered a donation. Readers, if you're curious about DAFs I recommend googling, lots of banks have "what is a DAF" pages, but if you're not finding what you want to know do feel free to come ask me.

3. Opting out of swag when not giving anonymously: I'm tempted to just say "Ya can't" because it's hard, especially with larger orgs. Even if you opt out, often you'll still get mailings that are considered "stewardship" (maintaining a relationship) rather than "solicitation" (asking for giving) and swag counts as stewardship. You can always start with sending the org a letter saying "Please put me on a Do Not Contact list, I will continue to give but don't want to get your swag". If that doesn't work, start returning mailings -- if you get something from the org don't even open it, just write "return to sender -- no longer resident" and drop it in the mail. This is not guaranteed effective; some places will either just change the name to 'resident' or retry every so often just in case. You can call the org and ask to speak to "records" or "data", and then just be super up front: "I want to keep supporting you but I really don't want the swag, how do I get that turned off?" They can help, but if you give to another similar org, a lot of times orgs will do "list exchanges" where they swap mailing lists, and if the org does that and you're on the other org's list, you get put right back on the "ok to mail" list for the first org.

I will say, swag is very, very cheap and gets results, so you can also look at this as "well, it was wasted on me, but the five cents this pen cost will get them $1 from someone, so in accepting it, I am still helping them to gain donations." This depends on your tolerance for waste, of course, which I'll talk more about in a minute.

(I personally like getting magnets, because I put stickers over top of whatever's printed on the magnet, cut it out to the shape of the sticker, and behold! I have a cool magnet!)

4. Tax receipting: I'm not a CPA or a tax lawyer and I fucked this up the last time I talked about it, so take this with a grain of salt, but there is an "above and beyond" deduction -- after the standard deduction I believe you can deduct an additional up-to-$300 for charitable giving, and if you were to be audited you'd need receipts to prove that. (As I said, if you're planning on this, fact-check first, I am not a strong source for this information.) (Edited to add: comments informed me this is no longer the case, so I'm glad I added in the disclaimer :D) If you give via a DAF, no problem; the DAF tracks where and when and how much you gave, so I could use my DAF's records as "receipts". You can also, if you lost or didn't get a receipt, contact the org and ask them for your giving record for the year. Here's the problem -- if you are giving in a way that allows you to avoid giving your address, there may be no way to get those receipts, since you can't prove their record with your name on it is you. So if you want receipts but want to give semi-anonymously definitely make sure they have your email address. If you're giving $300 a year, you probably want to take that deduction; if you're giving $20 a year, probably it isn't worth it. But yeah, to get a receipt you generally have to give them enough information for them to identify you, but you don't need giving receipts if all you take is the standard deduction.

All in all, the options are -- give cash and get no receipt, give via DAF or using a giftcard and get receipts to your email, give with your address attached and just hope they honor your request to be removed from swag mailing, or give however you want, put up with the swag, and bear in mind that them sending you the pen or magnet or keychain wasn't much of a problem or cost for them and will get them money from someone.

Honestly, option four isn't the least irritating, but it's probably the least labor-intensive for you. But it really is a question of what you want from your relationship to the nonprofits you support, and how passionately you feel about the "waste" status of swag they send. Only you can determine where your tolerance point is between "having to put in so much effort not to get this stuff" and "having to throw this stuff in a landfill". It's a regrettable part of being a donor and building a relationship with a nonprofit, but we in the nonprofit field do appreciate your giving and your tolerance :) While there are some outlier bad-actors in the space, trust me, for most nonprofits, nothing we do is gratuitous. Almost all of us are on such a thin wire that if something costs us money and doesn't get us more money, it gets binned very quickly.

#nonprofits #charitable giving #donation

93 notes · View notes