#don't make me go to amazon instead | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

winwintea · 15 days ago

Text

my funny valentine

PAIRING ↬ best friend!lee donghyuck x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ thriller, horror, suspense, romance, crack, tooth fairy haechan, <- trust me that'll make sense, they play detectives, stalker au, valentines au, flirty jaemin, songwriter and poet mark lee, painter renjun, they all kinda down bad for y/n a little though

WARNINGS ↬ teeth. and it's gross. also stalkers !!

SUMMARY ↬ for valentines day all you wanted to do was chill with your best friend. unfortunately for you, there's a little someone claiming to be your secret admirer bringing you cryptic valentine's day gifts. you brush it off until the gifts start getting more and more sinister. can you and haechan solve this mystery before it's too late? (and can he confess some of his own feelings to you while he's at it?)

WORD COUNT ↬ 4.8k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ while this may not be a FUNNY fic, it’s very heavily inspired by MISAMO’s “Funny Valentine” so please go check that song out and give it some love <33

PLAYLIST ↬ the wolf - siames; stalker’s tango - autoheart; bust your knee caps - pomplamoose; smoke and mirrors - jayn; tag, you’re it - melanie martinez; funny valentine - misamo

The air outside is crisp, a reminder that winter hasn’t fully let go, despite the pink and red decorations plastered across storefronts. Valentine’s Day is a week away, and yet, as you step out of your apartment, the holiday is the furthest thing from your mind.

Until you nearly trip over something at your doorstep.

A single red rose rests against the welcome mat, its petals velvety and deep, almost too perfect to be real. A small, cream-colored card, tied around with a black ribbon sits at the center.

You bend down, fingers brushing over the card as you flip it open.

“You don’t see me for who I am, but I see you.”

A strange shiver trails down your spine.

You glance around the hallway of your apartment complex. The usual dull lighting flickers slightly, and the air is still. No sounds of footsteps, no hushed whispers from neighbors. Just silence.

A prank? A weird marketing gimmick? Maybe even a mistaken delivery? You don’t have a secret admirer. Or at least, not one you know of.

Still, you tuck the note into your pocket and step back inside, leaving the rose on the counter as you grab your phone. Without thinking, you call the one person who would get a kick out of this.

The line barely rings before Haechan picks up.

"Yo, what’s up?" His voice is warm, laced with the lazy charm that makes it impossible to tell whether he's just woken up or has been up scheming since dawn.

“You’ll never guess what I just found at my door.”

“You finally got that Amazon package you forgot you ordered?”

“No, you idiot.” You roll your eyes, staring at the rose. “A gift. A creepy one.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, Haechan’s intrigued hum. “Creepy, huh? You have my attention. Spill.”

You quickly relay the details—the rose, the note, the unsettling feeling gnawing at your gut. You half-expect him to laugh it off, but instead, his voice drops into something quieter, more serious.

"And you're sure it wasn't left at the wrong door?"

"I’m not sure about that. My name wasn’t on it, but my neighbors are men. Who would do this to a guy?”

Another pause. Then, a small chuckle. "Well, well. Looks like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer."

"Not funny."

"Are you kidding? It’s hilarious." You can practically hear his grin through the phone. "You're living in a real-life romance movie. Or a horror movie. Either way, I’m invested."

You sigh, rubbing your temple. "So what do I do? Just… ignore it?"

"Absolutely not. We investigate. Duh."

Your brows furrow. "Investigate? It's probably just some dumb joke."

"Or," he counters, voice dripping with amusement, "it's the beginning of something way more interesting. C'mon, don't you wanna know who’s behind this? What if it’s some insanely hot dude or chick who’s just so in love with you but socially inept?”

You scoff. "Yeah, because nothing says romance like borderline stalking."

"Hey, some people are just dedicated," he teases. "Look at those BookTok people. And tell you what—meet me at the café in an hour. Bring the note. I wanna see it."

"You’re actually taking this seriously?"

"Of course! A mystery has landed right at your doorstep. And as your best friend, it is my duty to help you solve it."

You sigh. Haechan has always been dramatic.

"Fine," you relent. "But if it turns out to be a stupid prank, you owe me coffee."

"You got it, Valentine."

The café is buzzing with the usual mid-morning crowd: college students hunched over laptops, couples sharing pastries, baristas calling out names over the hum of conversation. The scent of coffee and warm vanilla lingers in the air, comforting and familiar.

You spot Haechan immediately. He’s lounged in the corner booth, one arm draped over the back of the seat, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he watches you approach.

“Took you long enough,” he teases as you slide into the seat across from him. “I was starting to think your mystery lover got to you first.”

You roll your eyes, fishing the note out of your pocket and dropping it onto the table in front of him. “Here. Do your thing, Sherlock.”

Haechan picks up the note with exaggerated care, holding it between his fingers like it’s a sacred artifact. He squints, tilts his head, even sniffs it dramatically before nodding. “Yep. Just as I suspected.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“This is definitely paper.”

You snatch the note back, smacking his arm with it. “Wow, incredible deduction dipshit.”

He laughs, dodging your hand before leaning in, his expression shifting into something more thoughtful. “No, but seriously. This is weird. The handwriting is neat, almost too neat. Like someone either really took their time or… copied it.”

You frown. “Copied it?”

“Yeah. Like, I dunno, tracing someone else's writing. See how the pressure is kinda uneven in some spots? It’s like they were trying too hard to be precise.”

You blink, staring at him. “Since when are you an expert in handwriting analysis?”

Haechan grins, tapping his temple. “I watch a lot of crime documentaries. Also, Renjun had a forgery phase in middle school, so I picked up a few things.”

“Of course he did,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Okay, so say you’re right—what does that mean?”

“It means whoever wrote this was really careful about not being recognized.” He leans back, drumming his fingers on the table. “Which makes me think this isn’t just some dumb prank. They don’t want you to know who they are.”

That unsettling feeling from earlier creeps back up your spine.

“What if it’s someone we know?” you ask, voice quieter now.

Haechan tilts his head, considering. “Could be. Or it could be some rando with a crush. Either way, we have a mission. I’ll show you just how good a duo we’ll be.”

You exhale. “And that mission is…?”

“To find out who’s been leaving you love letters, obviously.” He grins, reaching for his coffee. “And if they turn out to be hot, I take full credit for setting you up.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

“Hey, I take my best friend duties very seriously.”

You roll your eyes, but still can’t help but feel a bit uneasy by it all.

The uneasy feeling from the café lingers as you make your way home.

"They don’t want you to know who they are."

"What if it’s someone we know?"

You shake the thoughts away as you unlock your door, stepping inside. The first thing you notice is the rose, still resting on the counter where you left it. Something about it feels different now—less like a mystery and more like a warning.

You inhale deeply, trying to push the paranoia aside. Maybe this is all just a prank. Maybe Haechan’s just hyping it up because he loves drama. Maybe—

Your phone buzzes.

[Unknown Number]: Did you like my first gift?

A sharp jolt of fear twists in your stomach. Your fingers tighten around your phone as you stare at the message.

Not a prank.

Your mouth runs dry as you hesitate before typing back.

[You]: Who is this?

Three dots appear. Then disappear. Then appear again.

[Unknown Number]: You’ll see soon enough.

Your heart pounds.

And then… three quick knocks on your front door.

You jump, whipping around to stare at it. The knock surprisingly wasn’t loud nor aggressive. However it got the message across.

Slowly, you step forward, peeking through the peephole. The hallway is empty. With a shaky breath, you unlock the door and crack it open just enough to peek outside.

A small, velvet box sits on your welcome mat.

Another gift.

You glance both ways down the hall—still empty. Whoever left it is already gone.

Heart hammering, you crouch down and carefully pick up the box, stepping back inside before locking the door behind you. Your fingers tremble slightly as you open it.

Inside is a delicate silver locket, its chain coiled neatly in the box. You hold it up to the light, examining the intricate engravings along the edges. It’s beautiful—almost vintage.

But when you pry it open, your breath catches in your throat.

Inside is a tiny photograph. One you recognize immediately.

It’s you.

You, standing outside your apartment building, smiling at the camera. But what makes your stomach turn is the person beside you.

Because there was someone beside you. But their face has been completely scratched out. And you have no idea who it is.

Your pulse roars in your ears as your grip tightens around the locket.

This isn’t a joke.

You fumble for your phone and dial Haechan’s number. He picks up almost immediately.

"Yo, miss me already?"

"Haechan." Your voice comes out unsteady, breathless. "It happened again."

A pause. Then, his tone shifts. It’s calm, but sharper now. "I’m coming over."

Fifteen minutes. That’s all it takes for Haechan to show up at your door, slightly out of breath, a bag of convenience store snacks in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Okay,” he says, pushing past you into the apartment, “give me the rundown. And before you ask, yes, I brought emergency snacks because I know you stress-eat.”

You let the door swing shut behind him, arms crossed. “Haechan, this is serious.”

“I am taking it seriously.” He tosses a bag of chips onto the counter before turning to you. “Now, tell me everything before I assume you’ve been cursed by a Victorian ghost.”

You exhale, pulling the velvet box from your pocket and flipping it open. “I found this at my door. Look inside.”

Haechan steps closer, peering down at the locket. He picks it up, flipping it open with careful fingers. His expression shifts immediately—the usual mischief in his eyes dims, replaced by something darker.

“The hell…?” He traces a thumb over the scratched-out face in the photo. “Okay. This? This is officially creepy.”

“No kidding,” you mutter, rubbing your arms as if that will rid you of the lingering unease. “It’s my photo, Haechan. And someone ruined it.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at the image. When he finally looks up, his gaze is sharp. “Where did they even get this picture?”

“I don’t know. That’s what freaks me out.” You sit on the edge of your couch, fingers gripping the fabric of your sweater. “Someone had to have taken it themselves. But I don’t remember anyone standing next to me like this.”

Haechan clicks his tongue, flipping the locket shut. “Alright. That settles it. We need a suspect list.”

You blink. “You say that like this is some kind of crime show.”

“Well, yeah,” he deadpans. “Except way more fun because it’s happening to you.”

You throw a pillow at his head. He dodges it effortlessly, grinning.

“Okay, okay,” he says, plopping down next to you. “Real talk. Do you know anyone who might be obsessed with you? Secret admirer type, or maybe even an ex with attachment issues?”

You think for a moment. And then—

“…Jaemin.”

Haechan’s brows shoot up. “Jaemin?”

You nod, stomach twisting. “He flirts with me constantly, even when I brush him off. Plus, I know I’ve caught him taking pictures of me before, but he always plays it off like it’s just a joke.”

Haechan leans back, considering. “Okay. Solid lead. What’s our game plan?”

You chew on your lip before standing. “We ask him directly.”

Haechan grins, standing up beside you. “Ooooh, an interrogation? Spicy.”

You roll your eyes, shoving your phone into your pocket. “Let’s just get this over with.”

And with that, the two of you head out—ready to confront the first suspect.

Jaemin’s usual hangout is the campus library, though calling it “studying” is generous. More often than not, he’s lounging in one of the oversized chairs, scrolling through his phone, pretending to be busy.

That’s exactly where you find him now, stretched out with his feet propped up on another chair, earbuds in, humming to himself.

Haechan nudges you. “Your not-so-secret admirer is in his natural habitat.”

You sigh, straightening your shoulders before striding over. Jaemin looks up just as you plant your hands on the table in front of him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets smoothly, pulling out an earbud. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Haechan plops down beside him. “We have some questions.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “We?”

“Yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “And you’re going to answer them.”

His lips twitch, amused. “Sounds serious.”

“It is serious,” you snap, pulling out the locket and placing it in front of him. “Know anything about this?”

Jaemin’s gaze flickers to the locket, and for the first time, his smirk falters. His fingers twitch like he wants to pick it up, but he hesitates.

“What is this?” he asks, voice quieter now.

“You tell me,” you say. “It showed up at my door today. Someone left it for me, along with a creepy note. And considering how often you love taking pictures with me, I thought I’d start with you.”

Jaemin’s jaw tightens. “You think I gave you this?”

Haechan tilts his head. “Well, you do flirt with Y/N like it’s your full-time job.”

Jaemin exhales through his nose, leaning forward. “Okay, yeah, I flirt. But this?” He taps the locket. “This isn’t me. I’d never scratch out my own damn face.”

Your stomach clenches. “So you recognize the picture?”

Jaemin hesitates for half a second too long. Then, he shakes his head. “No.”

You and Haechan exchange a look.

“You’re lying,” Haechan accuses. “Dude, you hesitated.”

Jaemin runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know where this came from, but I’ve seen that photo before. Just… not like this.”

Your pulse quickens. “Where?”

Another pause. Then, reluctantly, Jaemin mutters, “Renjun’s phone.”

Both you and Haechan freeze.

“What?” Haechan blurts. “Why would Renjun have a picture of Y/N on his phone?”

Jaemin shrugs. “No clue. It was a while ago. I remember seeing it and asking why he had it, but he just brushed me off. Thought it was weird, but not, y’know—this weird.” He gestures to the locket.

You stare at him, heart pounding. Could it be Renjun?

Haechan crosses his arms. “Alright, Nana. We’ll put you on the ‘maybe’ list for now. But if we find out you’re lying…” He drags a finger across his throat dramatically.

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Can I go back to existing now?”

You nod slowly, mind already racing ahead.

If Renjun had that photo… What else did he have?

And what would the next gift be?

The walk back to your apartment is tense. Haechan is uncharacteristically quiet beside you, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, his brows furrowed in thought.

"You okay?" you ask.

He exhales through his nose. "Just thinking. If Jaemin’s telling the truth, why would Renjun have that picture?"

"That’s what we’re going to find out," you murmur.

When you finally reach your apartment door, a chill runs down your spine. Sitting on your welcome mat is another small box, this time heart-shaped and a deep shade of crimson.

"Of course," Haechan mutters. "Right on schedule."

You swallow hard, exchanging a wary glance with him before bending down to pick it up. Unlike the velvet box from before, this one is heavier. With trembling fingers, you lift the lid—

A soft, eerie melody drifts into the air.

A music box.

But something is… off. The tune warbles and distorts, as if the mechanism inside is struggling to play correctly. It’s haunting, a melody that should be sweet but instead sends a shiver down your spine.

Inside, nestled among the delicate gears, is a small folded note.

A song just for you.

You stare at the words, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Haechan leans in. "Okay, I really don’t like this one."

You shut the lid abruptly, cutting off the melody. "Me neither."

"Who the hell writes you a personalized creepy lullaby?" he mutters. Then, his eyes widen slightly, realization dawning. "Wait. Music. Writing. Oh, come on—"

"Mark." You say his name at the same time Haechan does.

Mark has always been the sentimental type. From writing poetry to composing random melodies in his free time. If anyone had the skills to create something like this, it was him.

You grip the box tighter. "We need to talk to him."

Haechan nods. "Now."

You and Haechan find Mark exactly where you expect him, tucked away in a corner of the campus music room, hunched over a notebook, a pencil pressed against his lips. His fingers tap absentmindedly against the desk, keeping rhythm to whatever melody is playing in his head.

Haechan nudges you. "Caught him in the act. Very suspicious."

You shoot him a look before stepping forward. "Mark."

Mark glances up, blinking in surprise. "Oh, hey. What’s up?"

You waste no time, setting the music box down on the desk in front of him. His eyes flicker to it, then back to you.

"Did you make this?" you ask.

His eyebrows pull together. "Uh… no?"

Haechan crosses his arms. "You sure? Because we know you write songs. And poems. And you definitely know everything about Y/N—"

"Okay, dude, chill," Mark interrupts, looking bewildered. "What’s going on?"

You exhale, rubbing your temple. "Someone’s been leaving me gifts. Creepy ones. This music box was the latest, and since you’re literally the most musically gifted person I know, I thought—" You hesitate. "I thought maybe it was you."

Mark stares at the box for a moment before shaking his head. "It’s not me."

"Not even a little?" Haechan presses.

Mark sighs. "Look, yeah, I write songs. And sure, I might notice things. Like when you change your coffee order or cut your hair. Maybe I think you’re really cute. But that doesn’t mean I’m stalking you."

Haechan raises a skeptical brow. "Then what about your latest poetry post? The one about ‘loving from afar’?"

Mark’s expression shifts. His ears turn red.

Oh.

You narrow your eyes. "Mark?"

He groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "That wasn’t about you, okay?"

Haechan gasps, dramatic as ever. "Then who?"

Mark hesitates, then mutters, "My ex."

You and Haechan exchange a look.

"Oh," you say.

"Oh," Haechan echoes, slightly disappointed. "So you’re the heartbroken one, not the creepy one."

Mark shoots him a glare. "Obviously."

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. "Okay. Sorry for accusing you. This whole thing is just messing with my head."

Mark softens. "Yeah, I get it. But seriously, if someone’s messing with you, you should be careful."

You nod, but your mind is already racing ahead.

The moment you step into your apartment, you feel it.

Something is waiting for you again.

Your breath catches as your eyes land on the small, folded piece of paper slipped under your door. The edges are slightly frayed, as if it had been torn from a notebook in a rush.

Haechan picks it up before you can. His fingers brush over the paper before carefully unfolding it. His eyes scan the words, his expression darkening.

You take the page from him and read:

"I see you even when you don’t see me.I wonder if you know how much you mean to me.If I could just tell you—”

The words stop abruptly, the last sentence unfinished.

And at the bottom, only a single initial is signed:

“R.”

You stare at it, heart hammering. "R."

Haechan exhales. "Renjun."

It makes sense. Jaemin had mentioned Renjun having your picture. And now this, a love confession, hesitant and unfinished.

You swallow hard. "We need to talk to him."

Haechan nods. "Before another one of these shows up."

Renjun is easy to find.

The art studio on campus is practically his second home, and sure enough, when you and Haechan arrive, he’s hunched over a sketchbook, completely lost in his work. His pencil moves in steady strokes, the faintest furrow between his brows as he concentrates.

Haechan leans in. “Bet he’s sketching you right now.”

You elbow him before clearing your throat. “Renjun.”

Renjun jumps, startled, before snapping his sketchbook shut. “Oh—hey. What are you guys doing here?”

Haechan plucks the journal page from your grasp and drops it onto his desk. “Care to explain this?”

Renjun’s gaze flickers to the torn-out page. He lets out a sharp inhale, as his shoulders start tensing.

“So it is yours.”

Renjun stays silent for a beat too long before he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Where did you get this?”

“It was slipped under my door,” you say carefully. “You signed it with ‘R.’”

Haechan crosses his arms. “Looks real bad, dude.”

Renjun lets out a quiet laugh, but it’s more of a nervous laugh than a humorous one. “Yeah… I can see that.”

Your pulse quickens. “So you did write it?”

Another pause. Then, finally, he nods. “Yeah. But not for you.”

You blink. “What?”

Renjun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I did write that confession. But it’s old…I wrote it last year, for someone else.” He taps the page, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I threw this out months ago. I have no idea how you ended up with it.”

Haechan whistles low. “Okay, that’s actually kinda messed up.”

Renjun shakes his head. “ If someone dug this up just to mess with you… That’s not romantic. That’s obsessive.”

You grip the edge of the desk. “Then what about those photos you took of me?

Renjun looks at you, his expression not wavering, “I take photos of everyone. It’s practice for more naturalistic portrayals of human figures.”

A chill runs down your spine.

If Renjun didn’t leave the page for you… then the real admirer wasn’t just watching you. If they had gotten their hands on Renjun’s photos then…

They were watching everyone.

That night, you barely sleep.

Renjun’s words keep replaying in your mind. ‘That’s not romantic. That’s obsessive.’

The pieces aren’t fitting together. The gifts, the messages, the calculated way they’re being delivered. This isn’t just someone with a crush. This is someone who has been planning this.

You’re still lost in thought when you hear it.

A soft thud outside your door.

Slowly, you sit up, heart pounding in your ears. Haechan, asleep on your couch, stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. You swallow hard and push yourself to your feet. Step by step, you inch toward the door, pulse hammering with every movement.

You already know what’s waiting for you.

Another gift.

With trembling hands, you open the door.

Sitting on the welcome mat is a small, heart-shaped box, identical in size to the one that held the music box. But this time, the deep red velvet is stained. Dark splotches sinking into the fabric, like something wet had been resting there before drying.

Your stomach turns.

Slowly, you pick it up. It’s heavier than you expect.

You hesitate. Then, you lift the lid.

Inside, cushioned in soft silk, isn’t chocolate.

It’s a tooth.

A human tooth.

Your throat felt dry as you wanted to retch in disgust, while the box nearly slips from your hands. Your vision blurs as you stare at it, uncomprehending, unwilling to believe what you’re seeing.

Beneath the tooth, there’s a note.

"Now you’re mine."

Your fingers shake as you unfold the small slip of paper.

And that’s when you see it.

The handwriting.

It’s Haechan’s.

Your body goes cold.

Behind you, the couch creaks as he shifts in his sleep.

And you realize—

You’re trapped inside your apartment.

With him.

Your fingers tighten around the note as your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

Every nerve in your body screams at you to move. But you’re frozen. The weight of the realization crashes over you in suffocating waves.

It was him.

It was always him.

A slow creak fills the silence. The sound of someone shifting.

“Hm… you’re up?”

Your breath stutters as you whip around. Haechan is sitting up on the couch, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His voice is laced with drowsiness, but his gaze—when it lands on you—is sharp.

Too sharp.

His eyes drop to the box in your hands. He sees the note. The tooth. And then… he smiles.

A lazy, knowing smile.

Your stomach twists. “Haechan…”

He tilts his head, still watching you. “You don’t look happy to see your gift. But don’t worry I’ve improved on it.”

Your grip tightens on the box. “Why?”

Haechan exhales through his nose, shaking his head like you’ve just asked something ridiculous. “Come on, Y/N. You’re smart. You’ve been smart this whole time. Figuring out clues, questioning the right people.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Except you never questioned me.”

You take a step back. “You helped me.”

“I guided you.” He corrects, his voice smooth. “I made sure you followed the right trail. I led you to suspects just to watch your reactions. Watch you look at them instead of me.” His smile widens, his dimples deep but unsettling. “And you fell for it. Every time.”

Your skin crawls. “The rose. The music box. The torn-out page?”

“All me,” he confirms easily. “Jaemin? Mark? Renjun? They were never real threats. Just distractions. I needed to make sure your eyes weren’t on me until the right moment.”

“And the tooth?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Haechan’s smile fades slightly, his expression unreadable. “That one’s special.” His fingers brush over his lower lip, and something dark flickers behind his gaze. “A part of me. It’s yours now.”

No way.

"Now we match."

A sick realization slithers through you.

Haechan… pulled out his own tooth.

For you.

A cold sweat prickles down your spine. “You’re insane.”

Haechan only grins. “I’m in love.”

You feel the blood drain from your face.

He sighs, standing up slowly. “I knew you wouldn’t understand right away. That’s why I took my time. I sent gifts and gave you a story to follow.” His voice softens, almost affectionate. “I wanted to watch you figure it out. I wanted to see the exact moment you realized it’s always been me.”

He takes a step forward.

And you take a step back.

His eyes flicker with amusement. “Still running from me?”

Your fingers curl into fists.

You need to get out.

Now.

Haechan watches you like a predator sizing up its prey. His smile is still there, but now, you can see it for what it truly is. A mask. A carefully crafted performance. And you were his favorite audience.

Then, he moves.

Slow, deliberate. Like he has all the time in the world. From his pocket, he pulls out a small velvet box. A jewelry box. He rolls it between his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, before sliding it across the coffee table toward you. “I saved the best for last,” he murmurs.

You don’t want to look.

But you do.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the box, flipping it open. Inside, nestled in dark velvet, are a pair of earrings.

The charms dangle from delicate gold hooks, polished smooth. But even in the dim light of your apartment, you can see them for what they are.

Teeth.

Human teeth.

Your stomach twists violently.

Haechan hums, tilting his head. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they? I worked so hard on these.” His voice drops into something softer, almost coaxing. “You’ll wear them, won’t you?”

Your breath comes in shallow gasps.

You need to get out.

Haechan sees it before you even move. His lips curl into a knowing smirk, and then—

The lights flicker.

A click.

Your front door.

Locked.

Your heart slams against your ribs. “Haechan—”

He only smiles, stepping closer.

“Shh,” he soothes. “It’s Valentine’s Day, baby.”

A flickering TV screen bathes the darkened room in cold, artificial light. The newsroom anchor, a solemn-looking woman, speaks in a measured, professional tone.

"Breaking news tonight—local authorities have launched an investigation into the disappearance of Y/N L/N, last seen on February 14th. Friends report that they were searching for a secret admirer who had been leaving a series of mysterious gifts. However, they never returned home. If you have any information regarding their whereabouts, please contact—"

The report continues, but the sound is drowned out by the hum of a familiar tune.

A figure strolls past the display window of an electronics store, hands tucked casually into his pockets. His hoodie shields most of his face, but the dim glow of the screens flickers against his features.

Haechan.

A soft, lilting hum escapes his lips.

"My funny valentine…"

He walks on, disappearing into the city’s shadows.

The TV screen flickers.

The missing person poster flashes across the screen.

“The case remains open.”

“For now.”

me when i basically lied in the summary but not really 🫶🤗 love u guys too !!

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

201 notes · View notes

olailamajnoon · 2 months ago

Text

Batman, arresting Harley for the umpteenth time: You're going to prison, Quinn.

Harley: You know what I was thinking?

Batman: what.

Harley: That you don't send me to prison. *grins*

Batman:...

Batman: I have no idea what to say to that.

Harley: No, think about it! I could wear my sexy nurse outfit and you me and kitty could have some fun!

Batman: *sighs* As appealing as that prospect is,....

Harley: *low squeal*

Batman: No.

Harley: You need a therapist who can fuck you and tell you about your mommy issues at the same time

Batman: I don't think anyone ever in the history of humanity has needed that.

Harley: (begging) Come on, Bats. They drug me in there! It gets all...spooky sometimes. Not your kind of spooky, the bad kind.

Batman: *hesitating*

Harley: And they feed me pea soup! PEA SOUP!! *kicks a rock and starts crying*

Batman: Quinn, you should have thought of that before you ran away with Ivy and killed the CEO of FutureTech.

Harley, pleading: That was Ivy, not me!

Batman: Uh huh.

Harley: She said he was a plant murderer. And I gotta admit, I wasn't feeling too good myself about him dumping all that toxic waste in the Amazon.

Batman: When things like this happen, you come to me.

Harley: You've never shown interest in plant shit before.

Batman, pinching the bridge of his nose: I can handle it. I know how important 'plant shit' is to Ivy and you. It's important to me too. That's why, next time, before you murder someone, let me handle it legally by scaring the shit out of them first. Okay?

Harley: *hiccups* okay.

Batman: Now. I'll talk to the Arkham parole board about your early conditional release. But I will make sure they give you some truly, spectacularly, horribly disgusting community service.

Harley, desperate: No. Not the garbage route again.

Batman, smiling grimly: Oh it gets worse. Trust me. *begins typing into his phone*

Harley: Oh my god I think I'll just do my time. I'm not going into the trash cans, you don't know the kind of shit people throw out! I think I'll just take my meds and stare at the walls instead.

Batman, looking up from his phone: I'm afraid that ship has sailed. *smiles evilly*

Harley: Oh my fucking shit you monster!

Batman: Remember that feeling the next time your trigger finger itches to pop off a human being.

Harley, gritting her teeth: It's itching now, bitch!

Batman, smugly: Good.

174 notes · View notes

bboricha · 2 years ago

Text

we did... what in your mind?!

➳ wc: ~600 ➳ pairings: pervert streamer!kaedehara kazuha x mind reader afab!reader ➳ cw: shibari, one (1) hickey, pet name (my love), praise kink if u squint ➳ kabukicho bad trip: 5wirl edition masterlist

synopsis: you're in lit class with one of the most famous people at your university, kaedehara kazuha, a streamer. you happen to be bored and ran out of things to do, letting your eyes wander around the room and you end up meeting kazuha's, getting a glimpse into his mind.

you're sitting in class, zoning out to the droning voice of your professor, going on about Chaucer or Conrad or something—you're not sure, you don't really care. heart...darkness...canterbury... it's whatever, it's not important.

you've already run out of things to do on your laptop too. solitaire? you're tired of it. tetris? you might rage even if it isn't a rage kind of game. amazon? you're too broke. you huff out a frustrated breath, opting to look around the class instead, to maybe daydream, or maybe listen to what others have to say. in their minds, you mean.

yes, you'd rather not listen to other people's thoughts because you know how creepy it would be if they knew, because you know, you just want to respect their privacy. but sometimes you genuinely can't help it if you happen to make eye contact with them—that’s what triggers it after all. it’s kind of hard though to keep your eyes cast down all the time because you also try to make an effort to seem like a normal, sociable person. it just gets awkward sometimes when you're speaking and they start thinking of a lunch menu instead.

your eyes wander over to kaedehara kazuha—a popular streamer known for his parasocial relationships with his fans that happen because he's apparently genuinely nice. not that it matters, but his existence in your class has been a bit of a nuisance to say the least. at the start of the semester, people used to flock around your class at the beginning and the end in hopes of snapping a photo of him. you understand why, he's very attractive pretty and famous, who wouldn't want a picture of an internet celebrity? a lot of people actually, but it doesn't too much anymore because apparently he asked on stream for people to stop it and to your surprise, they actually listened (lol).

it was then his eyes met yours and you flinch, a barrage of obscene images flooding your head.

”you actually like being tied up, don’t you?” kazuha asks, the breath of his voice hits your ear as he tugs on the binds around your body, pulling you towards him. the red rope digs into your skin, the sting complementing the way his fat cock drags inside your walls. he sucks a mark onto the crook of your neck, promptly pushing you back into his pillows as he takes hold of your hips, spreading you apart as he pulls out, leaving just the tip in.

“you’re sucking me in so… much,” he groans, slowly thrusting back inch by inch, making you whine against his sheets begging for him to go faster. “patience is a virtue, my love.”

he bottoms out, grinding on you when he tugs at the rope again, tears falling from your eyes as a result. he takes notice of this, caging you with his frame as he leans in, the angle of his cock seemingly hitting you even deeper than before (if it was even possible), and he wipes the tears from your eyes.

“just a bit more, alright? you’re doing so well,”

you gasp, averting your eyes and immediately slapping a hand over your mouth to prevent any more unprompted noises. what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?? you think, entirely unsure how to process this sudden surge of information. you cautiously look back up towards kazuha’s direction against your better judgment, almost flinching for a second time when you notice his stare. he mouths a “are you ok,” his thoughts reading as genuinely concerned so you vehemently nod your head and he smiles in return. you can feel your cheeks heating up as you place your arm on the desk, resting your chin on your hand and returning your attention to your computer that was left open on a new tab.

➳ an: foaming at the mouth i love ooc kazuha where there's more than meets the eye with him oh god

#bboricha*:･��✧#bori writes*:･ﾟ✧#bori genshin*:･ﾟ✧#bori nsfw*:･ﾟ✧#kabukicho 5wirl *:･ﾟ✧#kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #kaedehara x reader #kaedehara kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact kazuha #kazuha x you

4K notes · View notes

sirfrogsworth · 4 months ago

Text

Early voting to beat the lines... the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.

So... yesterday was quite the day.

After being stuck in bed for the past 6 weeks with some mystery slump, I was finally feeling better. So I decided I would try to cram as many errands into my day as possible. That works better for me when I drive out into the world because I end up only having to do one big recovery instead of a bunch of little recoveries.

My to-do list...

Go to the doctor

Vote early

Return oxygen machine to FedEx store for scammy eBay guy

Return Amazon package to the UPS store

Get gasoline for my whip

Go to Discount Tire to get my tires filled for free

Drop a check off for my lawn guy

Mail a secret package to Katrina at the US Post Office

It would have been nice if I could have gone to just one shipping place instead of all three, but the universe has a sense of humor and likes to do shit like that to me on a regular basis.

So, I get my checkup, it goes quick, no long wait, I'm feeling good.

As I get in my car, it starts to rain. It was an ugly day and it actually has not stopped raining to this very moment a day later. Just gray, windy, chilly, and wet. I look up the voting place and start the GPS.

Wipers and music on full blast, it's time to get my vote on.

When I reach my destination, I realize early voting is at some kind of private golf club. And at the center is a recreation center—which is a public building.

So it's like this private/public turducken situation.

I was expecting this errand to take 20 minutes. Because early voting always seemed like a way to get in before the crowds of election day for a more convenient voting experience.

But the parking lot was packed and I feared my expectations were about to be subverted.

As I walk through the parking lot I see a bunch of signs in the ground.

And a particular one caught my eye.

This is bullshit.

Like, just a straight up lie. No truth to it whatsoever.

Amendment 3 in Missouri basically restores abortion rights in the state. And Republicans have taken issue with the following language...

"The Government shall not deny or infringe upon a person's fundamental right to reproductive freedom, which is the right to make and carry out decisions about all matters relating to reproductive health care, including but not limited to prenatal care, childbirth, postpartum care, birth control, abortion care, miscarriage care, and respectful birthing conditions."

They claim the phrasing "but not limited to" means you can give an 8-year-old kid "sex change surgery."

This is how their online flyer puts it...

It could also include a free puppy.

Or a zillion bucks.

Or a clown will come to your house after the abortion and honk your nose.

It's ridiculous and desperate. I honestly don't know how it is legal for them to put a lie like that outside of a polling location, but here we are.

The organization "Missouri Stands with Women" is run by... a man.

It was set up by a lawyer named "Edward Greim" on behalf of the Federalist Society.

His law firm has a lovely biography about him. And a bunch of publicly available contact information. I say that for no reason whatsoever.

The Federalist Society funds all kinds of shit like this. Their main thing is installing conservative judges all over the country who will reinterpret or negate legislation. And they do it all to "stand with women" by taking away their reproductive rights.

Here is the board of directors of the Federalist Society.

Ya know, before I looked this up, I said to myself, "I bet it's going to be a sausage fest." I am psychic.

I think it would be more accurate to say they stand with A woman.

Just one.

And she sucks.

Nicole is a law professor at Notre Dame. She chose her Catholicism over her right to choose. The Catholic Church will fuck your rights and your children and Nicole will help them do it.

Anyway... back to my quick and easy voting experience...

So as I'm walking in to vote I keep passing a ton of these awful signs. I notice an older woman standing next to the aforementioned "child sex change" sign and she says, "Can I talk to you about Amendment 3?"

At this point, I'm pretty angry. I look her dead in the eyes and say with my most assholish tone, "NO." as I walk past her.

And then she finishes her sentence...

"...to protect the reproductive rights of women."

Ah, dammit.

I thought she was an old Karen but she was cool as heck. Standing out in the rain telling people the sign is bullshit. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I was stuck in full social anxiety mode so I just kept walking.

If that old lady happens to have a Tumblr and follows me and is willing to read this giant story... I just want to say I am sorry. I thought you were awful and I should have let you finish your sentence. You're super cool and I'm happy there are folks like you fighting for what is right.

I get inside and a young woman greets me. She tells me the line is in the next room and points. I still wasn't quite sure what the situation was. The parking lot being full gave me pause, but I was still hopeful I could have a swift early voting experience.

But I walk through the doors and into a huge gymnasium and my heart sinks.

It's hard to represent in pictures how long this line is.

It goes all the way to the end of the gym, loops around, and comes back. At first I was not too discouraged, because there was a nice gentle ramp at the start of the line.

But then I notice several sets of stairs at different stages of the line. And I'm just thinking how hard it would be to stand in this line and then also having to go up and down several sets of stairs.

So I go back to the young woman working there and ask what their accessible voting options are. And she told me I could do curbside voting and points outside. I then notice a line of cars wrapped around the parking lot. I don't know how I didn't see them walking in, but I guess I was too busy being a jerk to elderly progressive women.

My biggest concern was time.

The longer this takes, the more energy I use up, the longer my eventual recovery will be.

They tell me the car option is the slowest. And I could be in line for 2 to 3 hours. And then an old man who seemed to be in charge walks over and tells me the fastest option is to stand in line.

So I walk back out to my car and grab my cane and decide to try the long serpentine gynasium line.

I start walking up the ramp and some of the other folks see how slow and labored I'm walking and they start encouraging me. "You can do it! You got this!" Which I suppose was meant to be a positive helpful thing. But I found it to be embarrassing.

I get to the end of the line and notice most of the line has bleachers directly next to it. So I decide to sit down and rest and figure out how I am going to survive this experience.

It took me a while to recover from the long walk to this spot. I watched a bunch of people pass me by and the line was actually getting much longer as I rested. I was not really sure what to do. I was trying to problem-solve this situation but the answer that kept popping up in my mind was just... "go home."

But I felt this was too important and that wasn't really an option.

My best idea was to ask someone if they would hold my spot in line. Perhaps I could just sit in the bleachers and follow them around in the line, staying as close to them as I could. But my social anxiety was set to maximum and I was not finding the courage to ask someone.

After about 10 minutes of sitting, resting, and thinking, I basically say, "Fuck it, I'll try to stand in line."

I get up and start walking to the end of the line.

Then I hear a voice yell out to me.

"Hey, man! Come over here! This is your spot!"

A young man was waving at me. He was accompanied by his wife. Both of them were dressed in black and they had a sort of goth skater aesthetic going on. He had a competitively bushy beard, but with less gray. And she had very vivid purple hair.

I was a little confused and still processing what was happening. Then they both started waving at me to join them in line. They remembered I got there just before and told me I should be in front of them. I walk over and thank them. Then he suggests...

"Hey, why don't you just sit in the bleachers and follow us around the line."

He suggested my idea!

Without me asking!

I felt like he read my mind or something.

Can bearded people read each others' minds? Was this some beard skill I was unaware of?

"I got you, man. You just sit and we'll keep your place."

And his violet hair'd significant other agreed. "Yeah, we got you."

The kindness of strangers was more accessible than my polling place and I was just so thankful in that moment.

So I sat in the bleachers and watched them traverse the line. In the middle of the gym there were some teenagers playing basketball. And so I just rested and watched them play.

That young man in the red pants was like a goddamn Harlem Globetrotter. He was just embarrassing the others. He was bouncing the ball behind his back and through his legs and then he just danced around his opponents like a figure skater. It was such an unbalanced matchup. He might as well have been playing 4th graders. Not only was he significantly faster and more maneuverable, but he was consistently hitting 3-pointers.

And then during a break, he ran towards the hoop, jumped from the free throw line, flew all the way to the net, grabbed onto the rim, and proceeded to do several pull ups as if they were the easiest thing in the world. I don't think I've seen anyone jump that far and that high in real life and it was just a bonkers display of athleticism.

I spent the entire wait watching him humiliate the others—hoping he would get a full ride scholarship to some prestigious university.

And I hoped the other boys paid attention in school and got straight As, because basketball was not going to work out for them.

As my new goth skater friends progressed through the line, I would make sure to keep sight of them. Every once in a while I'd give them a head nod to acknowledge we were in this together. After an hour and a half they were at the final segment of the line, so I sat next to the wheelchair folks.

I probably could have argued to sit with them in the first place. But I really did not feel like making the case that I was just as disabled as them and needed that level of consideration. The old man running things seemed quite stressed and was putting out 8 fires at once. And my anxiety wasn't really cooperating enough to be assertive in my needs.

But it worked out in the end, so I'm not going to dwell on the lack of accommodation for people who weren't *visually* disabled.

My new bearded friend neared the end and waved me over. I thanked him and his wife profusely.

I joked, "Thank you for adopting a voter."

They seemed confused by my joke.

"No problem, man. Happy to help."

I told him and his wife they truly saved me. "I honestly don't think I would have made it through the line." And then I looked back...

I said, "As crazy as this is, I do find this kind of turnout encouraging." His wife agreed and said, "We were saying the same thing!" And then I thought, "Can the wives of bearded people absorb the mind reading ability? I hope she can't read my mind right now. Although, I'm mostly thinking that her hair is a really cool shade of purple, so she'd probably find that complimentary."

As I waited to get my ballot I could hear the happy couple behind me. They were very cute. They were making fun of each other in a very lovey-dovey fashion. I had high hopes they were going to grow old and gray and purple together based on their chemistry. And I was just so thankful they were able to recognize that I needed help without me asking. Because I probably would have just caved to my anxiety and not asked for help otherwise.

I got my ballot and sat down to fill in all of the appropriate squares. Thankfully I had prepared a cheat sheet on my phone.

It was an exact replica so I was able to copy it and finish quite rapidly.

Then I fed my votes into the vote-eating monster and they gave me a sticker.

My quick 20 minute adventure to vote early only took 2.5 hours!

And because I didn't want to buck tradition, I stood outside in the wind and the rain and took a voting selfie.

Yep, that seems about right.

Ah, crap... that was only the second thing on my to-do list.

Let's speedrun the rest of this story, shall we?

I drove to FedEx. I hauled a 40 pound box inside. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Man, this thing is heavy!" as I tried to catch my breath. The 20 year old working there then lifted it like it was a feather and I felt great about that.

I drove to the gas station because I was nearly on empty—that is both a metaphor and not a metaphor. I filled my ride with go juice.

I noticed I was a mile from the tire store and they fill up tires for free. So I did that and the guy was super nice and complimented my tires. I felt both weird and proud about having my tires complimented. Like, I had nothing to do with my tires being nice. But I accepted the praise on their behalf.

I drove to the UPS store. The last time I was there I made a scene. They refused to box up a return and I got upset and wasn't feeling well and they had to find a chair for me to sit in because I was going to faint. So I was hoping the same woman wasn't there, but she was. She didn't recognize me, so it was fine.

I drove to my lawn guy's house. He wasn't home. I dropped a check in his mailbox. My checks have corgis on them. My checks are cute.

I drove to the post office. I sent a secret package to my bestie, Katrina. I'd tell you what is in it, but it is an inside joke and you wouldn't get it. The woman noticed my voting sticker and I couldn't help thinking about what I just accomplished to get that sticker.

On my way out I noticed a miracle.

2 of the 4 doors were fixed!

I mean, I don't know why they couldn't fix all 4, but now the employees won't freeze in the winter. So I take that as a win. It only took a year and a half to accomplish and I'm sure all of my phone calls and emails did not help at all. But I'm going to pretend I saved the day regardless.

And then... I drove home.

5 hours of errands.

I was so fucking tired. My back was on fire with pain. I immediately collapsed into my bed. I passed out. And I slept for 14 hours.

The End

#long post

360 notes · View notes

brehaaorgana · 1 year ago

Text

ADHD money/budgeting system I'm currently using for my benefit is going well (I've been using it for like half a year now?), and I wanna recommend it.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT. 10/10 do recommend. Uhhh rambling about it and my generic disclaimers + gushing extensively under the cut but TL;DR I think it's great for ADHD ppl, I've used it for 6+ months now and I find it super SUPER helpful. also weirdly fun.

DISCLAIMERS:

Budgeting helps you understand/know your money, it can't make money appear where there is none.

Everyone should learn to budget even if you don't have much money (especially then)

This is NOT a magic trick solution. Just like everything else, it is an assistive tool. This is one of those adult things we can't simply opt out of without negative consequences, though.

My advice is based on something I am currently able to do. That is, I can spend an amount of money on this specific thing that works well for me. If you have no extra money to spend then previously I was tracking things in a notebook. So you can still do this.

I believe Dave Ramsey is a fundie fraud/hack and no one should listen to him about money.

DID YOU KNOW THEY CANCELLED MINT???

Okay? OKAY.

Ahem.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT.

It is called YNAB for short. The first 34 days are your free trial, and that is my referral link. If anyone uses it and then signs up for a subscription, we both get a month free. Also you can share a subscription with up to six people (account owner can see everything but individuals can pick and choose what they share amongst each other) so like...idk your whole polycule can be on one account. Or your kids. Whatever.

If you are a student, it's free for a year. If you aren't, a subscription is $99 for a year (paid all at once) or $14.99 monthly, which is equivalent to paying Amazon prime. Go cancel Prime and get this instead tbh.

They got a whole article just on ynab and ADHD. They also have like...a big variety of ways to access their info? They have a book, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, blog posts, q&A's, free live workshops you can join (you can request live captioning), emails they can send (if you want) a wiki, and so on. They got workshops on all kinds of topics!!

So whatever ends up working for your brain. It also has a matching app.

If you lost Mint this year they have a gajillion things for moving from Mint.

Also they have a "got five minutes?" Page which has a slider so you can decide how much attention/time you have before going on lol:

They only have 4 rules of the budget, they're simple and practical, and it doesn't get judgey or like...mean about your spending.

1. Give every dollar a job 2. Embrace your true expenses 3. Roll with the punches 4. Age your money.

THEN THEY BREAK THESE DOWN INTO SMALL STEPS FOR YOU! They even have a printable! Also these rules are great because there's built in expectations that things WILL HAPPEN and it's NOT all or nothing with a fear of total collapse into failure. Reality and The Plan don't always align, especially if you have ADHD. So it's directing our energy towards the true expenses and not clinging to The Plan!! over reality.

You can automate a lot of shit (you can sync with your bank accounts just like mint, but also automate tagging the categories of regular expenses/transactions). And if for whatever reason you accidentally do something that makes the budget look weird or wrong:

A) you can usually fix it somehow OR b) they have like, a button you can press that gives you a clean slate and archives the previous version of the budget for you.

So if you forget for a few weeks or months, or accidentally input something wildly wrong, or just don't want to look at a really terrible month anymore and feel like you need a fresh start you can usually either fix it or start fresh which is really nice.

The app also (for whatever reason) scratches my itch to have things like...have incentives or little game-like goals in a way mint never did? I don't know why. Filling up the bars or putting money into the categories to cover my expenses is satisfying lmao. You can also make a big wish expense category for all the fun shit you want, and fund it whenever you can and then you can see the little bar go up and that's fun.

Anyways I've been using it for like 6+ months now and I think it's really helped me when I use it.

#adhd #adhd money #adult adhd #ynab #adhd blogging

760 notes · View notes

anneapocalypse · 2 days ago

Note

Anne as good as a point you make about dropbox it doesn't solve the hurdles of 1) need to own new site/app that I'm not already constantly using 2) I'll need to go in and delete it for more space eventually 3) I can also use my solo discord for links and lists and whatever else between devices without involving other other programs.

That is fair, but this raises another question for me.

Do you not have some kind of application that already automatically saves your photos where you can access them on other devices? Doesn't that come standard already installed on most phones? Like for me the default would be Google Photos because I have an Android phone, I just hate the interface of Google photos even before all their recent AI shit so I don't use it and I have Dropbox set up to back up my photos instead. (I do have a premium account because I also use Dropbox for other things.) If I want it to back up other folders, like images I download, I can do that too, or upload an image manually.

This is why the idea of needing to use discord to send an image to another device was baffling to me, like... that functionality is pretty much built into every smartphone already? I'm really curious now if this is a feature fewer people are using.

As far as lists and links go, I've used Google Keep for a long time though I am trying to move away from Google products generally so I am looking for an alternative, but Discord wouldn't have the kind of functionality I want there anyway. I also use Firefox on mobile as well as desktop so any bookmarks I make are synced (though I get that browser bookmarks aren't the fastest way to save a link you want to send to someone else).

#anne polls #as always the answer might just me 'i'm old'#but i am curious

72 notes · View notes

linguisticsho · 2 months ago

Text

Anti capitalist + anti consumerist + anti work master list

*originally started writing this as a reference for myself. may add more later

No buying/no spending options

Libby (books, audiobooks, magazines). you can use multiple library cards. harris county and queens allows you to sign up for a card with just your number.

Hoopla (music)

Kanopy (movies, tv, docs)

Anna's Archive (books, academic papers)

Tubi (movies, TV, docs)

Your local libraries

Bartering. they got facebook groups for this. if you still use that.

Low buy/low spending options

Bookbub

Dollar stores

Thrift stores

Only buy when you need/run out of it. you don't really need another damn notebook (note to self)

lowkey thinking about buying that $25 tablet from five below

Going analog

Book Outlet

Thrift Books

Thrift stores

Blank cd's and an external drive

Food

Learn. To. Cook. get a rice cooker from family dollar. some rice, sausage, chicken, ramen, eggs, frozen mixed veggies,et c etc. get some spices. you can just throw this in for 15-20 min and have a meal. do some experimenting while you at it. start looking at those big back recipes from tik tok while it's still around.

eat less shit. less fast food. less processed snacks.

TooGoodtoGo. pay about $5 to get some surprise bags from different restaurants.

Companies to boycott (if you are able to)

Amazon. you know why.

Walmart. gets tax subsidies for employees on welfare. they aint never giving them a payraise, despite their profits. anti dei

McDonald’s.

Trader Joe's. anti union.

Companies to support instead

Local.

Black owned/BIPOC. buy essentials.

...or make your own shit. read some books, watch some videos to teach you to make skin care, set up raspberry pi, whatever you wanna learn

Making money (for anticapitalist, antiwork, anticonsumerist, autistic, young, wild, free)

Writing on Medium. something i've been doing a little of.

Micro investing. invest $5 here and there to make a little money.

All in on specific niches. see where it takes you.

Qapital. an app where you can save money without having to think about it. this has helped me in a pinch.

Prolific. good way to make a little money. pays thru paypal tho.

anything you're capable of doing

Skills that could actually matter

Herbalism. make natural remedies for chronic issues.

Gardening. grow your own food and kush. (if possible)

Reading. a skill often taken for granted. read all that you can. do annotations. actually do media literacy and ask yourself why you like or don't like a movie, TV show, anime etc etc.

Archiving. with the tik tok ban coming, i've been made more aware of the importance of saving shit. download things. write info you learn down in a notebook or notion.

Self defense. hand to hand combat or a glock. even if you start with practicing with a toy gun.

Sailing the seas

just look up 'pirating' on here

#anti capitalism #anti consumption #anti consumerism #anti work #info #reference

109 notes · View notes

concerningwolves · 2 years ago

Text

Amazon are upping their print costs for books, which means some (possibly many) self-pubbed authors may have to also up the cost of their book(s). I'd like to say now, to make it crystal clear for the record, this is not authors being greedy.

I think someone who looks up the royalty rate for KDP and sees "60% for exclusive publishing and 40% for non-exclusive" would think "Wow, these authors are getting paid good money!" but once you calculate the amount of the list price that Amazon eats after printing costs, that percentage can be literally pennies. The minimum, and I mean the absolute bare minimum that I could sell When Dealing with Wolves for after the changes is £12.48 – and if I did that, I would make £0.00. That's zero money. No royalties.

I repeat: 40% royalties on a book listed at £12.48 = nothing.

I currently have WDWW up at £14.00. My "40% cut" from that is £0.76. After the printing cost changes go into effect, I'll make £0.61 from each sale instead. I really don't want to up my prices, because frankly it enrages me that Amazon won't let me list my book for anything under £12, when the standard price of a fiction paperback in the UK is usually around £8.99 – but writing isn't my priority job, so I have that luxury. I'm not trying to make a living off my writing so much as using it to supplement what I make from the freelance career, which is a choice I made because I knew I could never cope with the workload required for a ""serious"" self-pubbed writing career without sabotaging myself. The £0.15 difference in royalties from one book sale isn't going to be the difference between me eating or not; it just really really annoys and disheartens me. (And, also, is further proof that I can't sustain a full-time writing career, because I'd run myself ragged for too little gain and then I wouldn't be able to eat).

But there are plenty of authors who are writing as their primary source of income, either because they can't do anything else or because they took the plunge they're building their career (and it shouldn't matter to you why someone is writing full-time, by the way. You want fiction media to interact with, then you need writers, and writers need to be paid in order to live in order to make more media). It's these authors who will have to up their book prices, and I feel in my bones that it's these authors who are going to face the backlash.

So, if you must be pissed off at someone, be pissed off at Amazon. The authors are probably pissed off, too (I certainly am!), so you'll be in good company.

(And if you can, buy the ebook version because we get better royalties, or see if the author has their own store where you can get the book, since they'll have more control over their own prices there).

#this is okay to reblog btw #i am venting but also royalty talks are something that's important for writer communities to have #writeblr #self publishing

1K notes · View notes

crazykuroneko · 11 months ago

Text

So, Where to Watch AMC Interview with the Vampire?

Surely you have seen gifs of AMC Interview with the Vampire and wonder where you can watch it. Of course you can 🏴‍☠️, but unfortunately in the world of streaming, numbers matter to keep the show afloat. So, here is Where to Watch IWTV aka WtW IWTV. This list will be updated from time to time 😉

WATCH PILOT EPISODE ON YOUTUBE FOR FREE (USA or with 🌐)

youtube

Listing STREAMING services only. Sorted by the alphabet. Ctrl+F to find your country (or pick your country on JustWatch)

Free (ad-supported or otherwise): 🆓

VPN-friendly: 🌐

Need to make free account (with fake address): 📝 (details under the cut)

All have two (2) seasons available unless otherwise stated

IWTV also has an Uncut version. It means no cuts for commercial breaks (✂️) or censored curses(🙅🏼‍♀️).

Trigger warnings for IWTV can be found here

• AMC+ : USA 🌐✂️🙅🏼‍♀️ (Every Sunday at 3 AM ET), Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Spain, India

You can sign up to AMC+ with VPN, non-American CC and American zip code. They'll fail to bill you, but you'll still get the 7-day free trial to binge watch. OR you can do this email trick to get more trial.

AMC+ is also available as a "channel" on Amazon Prime (USA, UK, Canada, Australia, New Zealand), Apple TV or iTunes (USA, UK, Canada, Australia, India), Roku or YouTube TV in some countries, so try to search there first

• Amazon Prime ✂️🙅🏼‍♀️ (w/o having to buy AMC+ subs): Latin America, India

• Amediateka: Russia, Belarus, Kazakhstan (censored)

• ABC iview 🆓 🌐📝✂️ : Australia

• BBC iPlayer 🆓 🌐📝✂️🙅🏼‍♀️: UK

• Canal+: Austria, France, Switzerland (only Austria gets 2 seasons)

• CosmoteTV: Greece

• Crave: Canada (S1 only)

• Hoopla 🆓: USA, Canada, Australia, New Zealand (Library card needed)

• MagentaTV+ : Germany

• Moviestar+ : Spain (S1 only)

• Netflix: USA (S1 only)

• OSN+ : Middle Eastern and North Africa

• Paramount+: France

• Sky Go: Ireland, UK

• Sky Show: Switzerland

• Streamz: Belgium

• TVNZ+ 🆓 📝 (haven't tried with 🌐): New Zealand

• U-Next: Japan

Disclaimer: I don't condone the use of VPN and fake address. HOWEVER, the series isn't available in almost most part of this world 😭. So, this is done with the purpose of giving the series the views it deserves instead of giving them to 🏴‍☠️. If your country is listed above, please support the show 🙏

For BBC: UK VPN on, sign up, Google UK zip code and add it, yes to TV license. You can turn VPN off after the episode loads.

For ABC iview: Australia VPN on, sign up, pick Overseas. You can turn VPN off after episode loads. Works on the app as well.

Check reply for VPN I used.

Feel free to reply or message me if you fail to stream it and if there's any info I missed or got wrong. Also, feel free to share this list with anyone!

Special thanks to Ari for always keeping us updated with the news on the show

#where to watch iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv #amc iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #jacob anderson #sam reid #delainey hales #assad zaman #eric bogosian #ben daniels #roxanne duran #AMC should hire me #moi.txt #Youtube #i made this so AMC remember there's a continent called Asia sooner

341 notes · View notes

dramaticallytotal · 22 days ago

Text

Victory Tastes So Sweet

Is this another?

Yes.

It's another TDWT au.

Don't look at me.

________

A TDWT where Noah joined Team Victory instead.

Eva is on Team Chris.

Izzy is on Team Amazon.

Chris made his husband "randomly" roll a D6 Dice. To be fair, he did roll for everyone except for select people.

Chris does not allow Sierra and Izzy to switch because he will absolutely not put any of Team E-Scope together. One member with Owen is fine, except Noah, because those two work together a little too well, but other than that, Team E-Scope is not allowed together. They would dominate the game, and as funny as that would be, he can't do it. He wants the competition to actually last, plus it may or may not be a punishment for Noah since the little shit messed with hair care products! Admittedly, it was Chris's fault since he was maybe the one to start their little prank war when the kid was his assistant, but come on! You don't mess with a man's hair routine! The jerk replaced the product in his very expensive bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a 3-in-1 set!!! A 3-IN-1!!!

But, anyway, he does allow Sierra to switch with a different person on Team Amazon...

Cody!

Yeah. Chris would not subject the boy to a crazy stalker because he knows how that is, but Chris also can't just get rid of Sierra because of the producers. Well, not till he can make it seem natural and something out of his control.

Teams:

Team Victory - Noah, Lindsay, Ezekiel, Bridgette, DJ, Harold, and Duncan until he quit.

Team Amazon - Izzy, Gwen, Courtney, Sierra, Heather, Beth, and Leshawna

Team Chris - Eva, Cody, Alejandro, Owen, Tyler, Justin, and Trent

------

I really like the idea of Noah being in Team Victory that some fics do. It would be really fun to figure out how that affects the team dynamics.

Because Duncan quit, Team Victory is at a number disadvantage, and it is one of the main reasons Alejandro targets them. Another reason is that he had already been working on his relationships with Lindsay and Bridgette, and since they weren't on his team and couldn't be of much use to him, they had to go. He knew he was good at pretending and keeping up appearances, but he also knew he couldn't do it forever because, at a point, it became exhausting. Which is another reason why the girls had to go.

Noah was pissed! He knew Chris put him on a team with Harold and without Izzy, Eva, or Owen in retaliation for the 3-in-1 prank. It was hilarious! It was also ridiculous how Chris knew as soon as he started putting the product in his hair because of the smell and the way it felt. Now he was going to suffer. Was it bad of him to hope they lost so he could throw Harold out the plane. They had only been a team officially for like ten minutes, and he was already done with the guy. He kept trying to take charge because he "knew more about Egypt than anyone here,gosh!" Then he kept interrupting Noah and Lindsay when they tried to make a plan. And THEN he kept throwing out random facts at the worst times. AND THEN he decided that wasn't enough and had to correct Noah when Noah was right. It took Ezekiel (EZEKIEL) snapping at him for the ginger to shut up and let Noah and Lindsay plan.

He was finally able to let his team know that their stick was, in fact, a dowsing rod. When they reached the river, Lindsay helped direct them on weaving their boat, Noah had some experience with weaving as his grandma did it frequently and taught all her kids and grandkids.

Once again, he lucked out as he stopped Ezekiel from trying to shoo away the crocodiles with their dowsing rod given he knew Chris, and he just knew if they came empty-handed they would be penalized or they would lose. The Amazon's still won, but thankfully, the challenge was declared a reward given Duncan had quit.

He didn't know that Alejandro had been observing his team during the challenge and specifically himself. Alejandro had seen how he let Lindsay lead, but how even she looked to him for information. It was like he naturally took up the position of leader and merely delegated tasks. Then he saw them on their boat and how he stopped his teammate from making a mistake.

Noah, as he remembered Chris introducing him as (he was great with memorizing faces and names), was harsh from what he'd seen and overly sarcastic. How these people listened to him, he didn't know. What he did know was that he was now on his list because he could already see how the boy would stray Lindsay and Bridgette from his influence by being a bigger influence given they are on the same team.

He also noted that there was already tension in the group.

He could work with that.

________________

Noah on Team Victory!

Beth, Eva, Justin and Trent joining the game!

Noah and Lindsay iconic leader duo!

Alliance Team E-Scope + Owen, Lindsay, Beth, and Ezekiel!

Friendship trio Lindsay, Beth, and Ezekiel!

Ezekiel staying in the game and getting character growth!

Alenoah shenanigans way sooner! Because Alejandro sees Noah as a threat! Owen accidentally told the new guy too much about his Little Buddy because he was trying to be a wingman!

Lindsay getting to keep her character arc from season two!

No forgetting Tyler!

Leshawna, Heather, Gwen, and Courtney butting heads!

Added in challenges by me! Some inspired from Ridonculous Race!

Parental Chris and Chef! Of course!

Noah becoming reluctantly protective of his team (besides Harold)!

Team E-Scope being protective of each other! Of course!

Noah becoming a reluctant villain to protect his friends and team!

Alenoah threatening each other! I mean heavy flirting!

Owen trying to be a wingman for Noah!

66 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 2 years ago

Text

The Younger Kind Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As a single dad trying to start dating again, Bradley feels like he's constantly running in circles. Hiring a twenty-four year old student to babysit should have made things easier, but no matter how hard he fights it, you're too irresistible to stay away from.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley cradled his forehead in his hands as he leaned against the bar. He hated being interrogated like this. He knew it was coming eventually, but he really wasn't expecting it today.

"You need a babysitter?" Nat asked with vivid interest. "Who are you going on a date with?"

He groaned. "What makes you think I need a babysitter so I can go on a date? Maybe I just need a couple hours to myself."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Because when you need an hour or two to yourself, you always ask me if I can come over and stay with Noah. And I always oblige, because I am the best person you know. So this must be something else. Who is it?"

"Rebel asked me out," Bradley murmured, looking at his friend out of the corner of his eye.

"Rebel! She's only been at Top Gun for a week!" Nat said, eyes wide as she examined his face. "She literally arrived from Lemoore seven days ago, and she already made a move on you? Damn, some of these pilots are quick."

"She just asked me out for coffee. I only said yes, because you keep telling me I should start dating again!"

"Well, you should start dating again. But I figured you'd download an app, find some cute women and get your rocks off. Not go on a date with a coworker!" Nat said, exasperated.

Bradley just gaped at her as Penny dropped off two more beers. "I haven't done this in a while. Forgive me for not knowing precisely what you intended for me to do here, Nat," he said with a massive eye roll.

She turned her nose up at him. "You're forgiven. But you need to give me your phone," she said, holding out her hand.

"For what?" he asked skeptically.

"Just gimme."

Bradley handed it to her and she entered his passcode from memory. "Just don't order anything on my Amazon account, okay? I like my Hawaiian shirts just fine, and I donated all the shit you charged to my credit card last time."

"I'm not ordering you new clothes," she scoffed, tapping away on his screen. "I'm solving all your problems. Now look at me and smile."

Bradley glared at her instead as she snapped a few photos. "These look terrible," she mumbled under her breath as she switched to her own phone. "I have one where you look halfway decent... oh, here it is."

Then she was back on his phone again, and he just gave up trying to understand half of what she did when she wasn't in the air with him.

"Nat, I just don't know that I'll ever get serious with anyone again. Meredith kind of ruined that for me."

Nat was scrolling along on his phone as she said, "Meredith was a flaming asshat. I never liked her. The best thing she ever did was get pregnant with Noah and then dump you."

Bradley was back to cradling his head in his hand. He did not like thinking about the fact that his ex bailed on him and their son when he was just a few months old. It made him feel sick. And now he was partening alone, which was harder than anything he had ever done.

"Shit," Bradley said, checking his watch. "I need to pick Noah up from daycare. Give me my phone," he said before finishing the last sip of his beer.

"I'm not done yet," Nat mumbled, a frightening grin creeping across her face. "Just one more minute."

Bradley thought about texting Rebel and canceling their tentative coffee date. Nat was probably right about dating another aviator. He didn't even know her actual first name, and she only ever called Bradley Rooster. What the hell kind of weird date would that be like? Talking Super Hornet specs? Comparing tales of punching out and parachute deployments?

He listened to a rapid string of alerts from his phone. "Is someone texting me?" he asked, reaching for his phone. "That's a lot of alerts. Is it Noah's daycare?"

But Nat was holding his phone tight and grinning. "Not texts. Women. Women who think you are cute and like your dating profile."

His eyes went wide. "What the fuck did you do?" he asked, his voice deadly calm.

"Got you about ten dates if you want them. You're welcome," she said, handing his phone back to him.

He scrolled through all of the profiles on his screen. "What am I looking at exactly?"

"Well, here's your profile. I used the only decent photos of you in existence. And that's your bio."

Bradley squinted at the screen. "All it says is that I'm 36, a naval aviator, and I like working out. And I have golden retriever energy? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you're energetic. They'll take that to mean in the bedroom."

"Jesus, Nat. Shouldn't I disclose important things? Like the fact that I'm a dad?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. That's second date material. They are going to want to size you up and see if you're a daddy before they need to know that you're a dad."

He shoved his phone in his pocket as he stood. "I don't have time for this," he grunted, pulling out his wallet and waving at Penny. "If I don't find a babysitter, none of this is going to make any difference anyway."

Penny took his credit card and then paused. "You need a babysitter for Noah? Mav and I can watch him if you need a break, you know that, right?"

Bradley sighed. "Thanks Pen. Yeah, I know that. I'm just looking for something a little more regular. Gonna try dating again," he said, glaring at Nat out of the corner of his eye.

"I might know someone who would be interested," Penny said, handing the card back to Bradley. "She's a student in her early twenties, I guess. Really smart and seems sweet. Noah would probably like her. She's in classes during the day, but she was looking to babysit at night."

"How do you know her?" Bradley asked, already hesitant to leave his kid alone with a stranger.

"She's renting a house on my street. I ran into her a few times, and we got to talking. She fed Luna, watered my plants, and got the mail when I took Amelia sailing."

Nat placed her hand on his arm. "I know this is a big step, but you could meet her first before you offer her the job."

Bradley stroked his mustache. "Any chance she would come over and meet me and Noah? So I can make sure she's not creepy?" he asked Penny.

Penny just laughed. "She's not creepy. How about I give her your number if she says she's interested in watching Noah."

"Sounds good," Bradley replied quickly, barely listening to Penny now. "I need to go pick him up. Bye, Nat."

"Don't forget to swipe through all your matches!" she called after him.

He just waved and made his way to his Bronco. Bradley always felt like he was running all over the place. As much as it bothered him to take Noah to daycare on a Saturday, he felt like he was losing his grip on his life. His friends rarely ever remembered to invite him to the Hard Deck, correctly assuming he wouldn't be able to go. But it would still be nice to be invited.

Everything felt impossible on his own. He wasn't getting enough sleep. As soon as Noah went to bed, it was a race to try to get every chore finished. Then he had to wake up an hour earlier to insure he had time to get Noah ready and dropped off at daycare on time. Every day was a damn marathon, and he really wished he could get some help.

He would never ever admit it to Nat, but he was lonely. Just the idea of getting to spend an evening eating dinner with a woman practically had him popping a boner. Having the chance to get to know someone again, get to have sex again? He couldn't think about it too long. He'd been spending so much time with his right hand and his imagination.

As he pulled into the daycare parking lot, he sighed. This was the reason he had forfeited dating. His son. His adorable, perfect son.

"Ready to go?" he asked, and Noach climbed up into his arms.

"Yep, daddy," he said, and Bradley carried him out after thanking the daycare staff.

"Let's get home and eat dinner," Bradley said, pushing Noah's dark curls away from his forehead and kissing him.

And this was the reason Bradley would only ever consider dating someone who liked kids and didn't mind dating a single dad. In spite of the daycare schedule, and the exhaustion and loneliness, Noah was his top priority.

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

You were just getting back from class and unloading your books from your car when you saw Penny waving to you from her mailbox. As soon as you waved awkwardly with your arms full, she was heading your way.

"Hey, Penny," you said as she walked up your driveway.

"I wanted to chat for a minute. Is it a bad time?" she asked, eyeing up everything in your arms.

You nodded toward the house. "Come inside so I can set everything down."

She followed you in, already going on about someone named Bradley. "He's sweet, and he has an adorable three year old son named Noah. They are looking for a reliable sitter, and I know you mentioned an interest."

"Oh," you replied, dumping everything onto your couch. "This Bradley guy? He's not creepy or anything, right?"

Penny laughed. "He asked the same about you. He's very hesitant to let a stranger watch Noah, but I told him I'd give you his number if you wanted to contact him. Maybe you could just go meet them one day. He's not creepy. He works with Pete. And I swear Noah is irresistable."

You sighed. You really needed some extra income. And you loved kids. And you'd probably be able to study after Noah went to bed for the night. As long as this Bradley wasn't giving off weird vibes, you'd probably want the job.

"Okay, I'll take his number," you said, and soon you were adding Bradley Bradshaw to your contacts. "Thanks, Penny. Hopefully this will work out."

You got lost in your research for the rest of the day on Saturday, and purposely avoided returning texts from Greyson. He only wanted to see you when you were too busy, and he never wanted to see you when you had time for him.

"He's being a douchebag," you whispered as you scrolled through the idiotic things he was sending you.

Then you opened a new conversation and typed out a draft to this Bradley guy.

Hi, I got your number from Penny Benjamin. She told me you're looking for a reliable babysitter. Any chance you have some free time so I can meet you and your son?

It was late, so you decided to let it sit in your drafts until the following morning. But apparently it wasn't too late for Greyson, who was now asking if you wanted him to send you a dick pic.

You switched your phone to do not disturb mode after telling him that you would really appreciate it if he didn't send you one. Then you went to bed and dozed off fantasizing about dating a guy who acted like an adult.

It was so late when you woke up, you decided to skip breakfast and just make yourself lunch. When you switched your phone back to receive messages, you were flooded with a bunch, mostly from Greyson. Luckily there was no dick pic to speak of, but he'd sent you a bunch of nonsense while he was probably drunk or high.

Then you noticed the draft to Bradley Bradshaw, so you hit send on that one. You had a reply from him before you were even done making a sandwich.

Bradley Bradshaw: Yes, I am looking for a sitter for my son Noah. Penny highly recommended you. I can make time to meet you whenever you are free. Just to be clear, I want to make sure Noah and I are both comfortable around you before proceeding.

You rolled your eyes. A grown adult man should not be as concerned about you as you should be about him. But, you could see where he was coming from about the prospect of letting a stranger stay with his son. So you replied and started eating your sandwich.

I could stop by this evening to meet you both if you're free.

He wrote back quickly again.

Bradley Bradshaw: That would be great. Anytime after 4. I'll attach my address.

If this guy was creepy or if his son was weird, Penny was going to be hearing about it for the rest of the year.

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

Bradley was just cooking dinner while Noah sat in his high chair coloring, when he heard his doorbell ring. "That might be your potential babysitter, bub," Bradley told him, kissing the top of his head as he grabbed a dish towel and headed for the front door while drying his hands.

But Bradley almost dropped the towel when he opened the door and got a look at you. As your wide eyes drifted up his body and landed on his face, you smiled up at him.

"Mr. Bradshaw?"

You were stunning. Beautiful, and so fucking young. He swallowed against the saliva pooling in his mouth. Oh shit.

"Uh, yeah. Hi," he managed, moving out of the doorway so you could step past him and into the living room. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem," you said with a shrug. "I'm looking forward to meeting Noah." You brushed past Bradley, and he closed his eyes. Your lip gloss was distractingly shiny. You smelled like beach grass or wildflowers. You looked like you were barely old enough to drink.

"He's in the kitchen," Bradley rasped, trying to pull himself together. "Back this way."

You followed Bradley through the house, and as soon as you saw his son sitting in the high chair, you went right to him.

"Hey, Noah! What are you coloring?"

"Dinosaurs," Noah told you, holding out a pink crayon.

"Cool. I love pink dinosaurs," you replied, starting to color a pterodactyl on the page next to the one he was working on.

"Me too. I like pink and blue dinosaurs the best," he replied.

Bradley watched you interacting with Noah. You seemed sweet, coloring each dinosaur the color he requested. When Noah mispronounced your name, you just laughed and told him he could call you that.

When you bent down to retrieve a yellow crayon as it rolled across the floor, Bradley got an excellent view of the backs of your bare thighs as your sundress rode up. He dropped the spatula into the pan, nearly burning himself. He was also nearly burning his dinner.

"Shit," he mumbled as you turned to smile at him before handing the crayon back to Noah.

"What else do you like to do? Besides color?" you asked.

Noah started telling you all about drawing with chalk and playing with bubbles outside. "I like snacks and movies. And hiking."

Bradley laughed. "By hiking he means walking around the block if I make it home from work before it's dark out."

"Oh," you said. "I can take you on a hike one day, Noah. I like hiking around the block, too. Maybe we can collect some things like rocks and leaves."

Bradley listened to Noah tell you about some particularly good rocks he had found last week, and you somehow responded in just the right way.

"You're in the navy?" you eventually asked Bradley, shrugging out of your denim jacket in the hot kitchen, giving Bradley a view of even more of your flawless skin. "Like Pete?"

He cleared his throat, mixing everything in the pan on the stove. "Yeah, I work with him. I'm an aviator."

"Do you want me to call you by your rank? Instead of Mr. Bradshaw?"

Bradley had to press his lips together, a little scared to know what hearing you call him Lieutenant Bradshaw would do to him. "You can just call me Bradley."

"Okay, Bradley," you said, and unfortunately that did something to him too. "You've got a cute kid. I think Noah and I could have a lot of fun together."

"How old are you?" The words were out of Bradley's mouth before he could rethink them. He almost sounded accusatory, but really he needed to know how bad it was that he couldn't stop looking at your legs.

"Twenty-four," you replied casually.

Jesus. He was twelve years older than you. But you looked even younger than that. Sweet. Too innocent.

"I'm in grad school for nursing," you continued. "I'm certified in CPR, and I can treat injuries. I know how to swim. I'm free every day starting at 4. You can run a background check on me if you want to."

Noah looked up at you and asked if you wanted to build blocks with him, and Bradley knew he already felt comfortable enough to leave his son with you while he went on a date with Rebel.

He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He hadn't taken the time to figure out how to use the dating app that Nat installed, and he was being inundated with matches and messages. He also hadn't given Rebel, whose first name was Grace, a solid answer about when he could get coffee with her.

But for some reason, in spite of the laundry list of women from the app who were interested in going on a date with him, he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Bradley asked as you built a block tower with Noah on the high chair tray.

"Oh, no. That's nice of you to ask, but I don't want to crash your meal," you told him over your shoulder. "Here, put this little block on the top. Let's see if we can make it stay," you told Noah, keeping your hands around the sides of the tower until he successfully set down the last piece. Then you tossed your hands into the air and cheered.

Noah turned and looked at you in surprise and you just laughed. "You're good at coloring and blocks?" He just giggled, and soon you were both knocking down the tower and starting over.

As Bradley scraped his half burned dinner onto a plate, he felt a little disappointed that you were grabbing your jacket and getting ready to leave. Noah looked a little sad, too.

"Well," Bradley told you, watching you gracefully shrug into your jacket, "you're hired if you think you can put up with the two of us."

You laughed and took a step closer to him. "Noah? He seems like an angel. You on the other hand?"

Bradley's eyes went wide, and you just laughed harder.

"Only kidding! I'm sure I'll be able to put up with both of you if you think you can put up with me."

You were young and beautiful, and for some reason Bradley wanted to feed you dinner, even though the food he made looked barely edible.

"I don't think that will be a problem."

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

I hope you enjoy your Daddy Rooster and babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls !!

PART 2

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader

2K notes · View notes

graysnetwork · 4 months ago

Text

Love, S. R. — Chapter 2

Warnings: Stalking, B&E, drinking

Simon Riley x Reader

Don’t read if stalking is an uncomfortable topic!!!

Months had gone by, you were still getting those anonymous messages and gifts. The gifts weren’t being given on holidays, they were small everyday gestures. Flowers, coffee, Amazon packages. It was getting harder to ignore your stalker when he was always trying to talk to you.

You told your friends about the stalker, one of them being in a relationship with a cop told you to go to the station. You laid out the entire situation and when they tried to find him they couldn't. They couldn't track down his IP address at all. That was weird.

Instead you decided to continue ignoring him, thinking that one day he’d get bored of talking to someone who wont reply. Oh how wrong you were.

Simon couldn’t get you out of his head, you infested his mind in the best possible way.

_______

Another day of living in constant fear, but tonight your friends were determined to give you one night of stress free partying. The plan was simple; they will pick you up, youll go to the club, drink a lot, dance, have fun, come home, sleep with no worries for the first time in months. It was the perfect plan.

Until you got out of the shower and started doing your hair. A pit in your stomach appeared as you heard the ding from your phone. You dreaded that noise every day now, knowing it would be another message from “unknown.”

Unknown: Going out, doll?

You peeked out of your window, staring out at the street below, checking for any men on the sidewalks, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Your neighborhood was quiet, peaceful—save for the fact that you were always being watched—but the people who lived in the other houses were normal.

You returned to your vanity, ignoring the message from him. Maybe it was biased to assume it was a man stalking you but your gut told you so.

Unknown: Ignoring me again?

Unknown: C’mon, sweets, just talk to me

Unknown: It’s getting annoying.

Unknown: Just reply, sweetheart

Unknown: I just wanna know if your going out

Unknown: I wanna keep you safe

Unknown: Answer me.

…

You: Leave me alone.

Unknown: You know I can't do that, sweetheart

You: Don’t call me that?

Unknown: Call you what? Sweetheart?

You: Yes

Unknown: Why not?

You: Its annoying, I don't know you, and you're creepy

Unknown: You wound me, my love

Unknown: You know me, I know you. I can call you whatever I like

You: how have you been watching me?

Unknown: Way to switch the topics, my love

You: How?

Unknown: You should close your curtains

You: fucking creep

You hit the block button again—to no avail.

He continues sending texts while you get ready, close your curtains, and lock up the door. You made your way to your friends’ car and whisk away the thoughts of your stalker.

Hours later you arrive home, the lock seems different but you don't think anything of it. You've had much more than enough to drink tonight.

You walk into your home, tossing your bag and keys on your couch. Huh, was that light on when you left? Again, you think nothing of it, you were dizzy, drunk, and so ready for bed. You make your way into your bedroom, the bed was made—not how you left it—you thought you’d left your entire wardrobe on it when you searched for an outfit earlier. You sit down, take your heels off and flop back against the bed, watching the ceiling spin until you force yourself up.

You did only the basics; change into pajamas, tie up hair, brush teeth, wash face.

You heard a thump, assuming it was the neighbors on the other side of the wall you continued washing your face without checking your room. You walk into the dimly lit room, the only source of light being the moon. You definitely closed those curtains, right? You rubbed your eyes, staring at the window, everything’s blurry. Finally, your eyes focus and you see him, a tall dark figure standing right by the window.

“I’m so drunk” you mumble to yourself, reaching out to shoo the apparition away. You get close before the figure's hand wraps around your wrist. “Not imagining things, love” a deep, gruff, British voice reassures you, he steps closer to you, the moonlight only helps you see a little more of him. Short hair, a stubble that covers the expanse of his jaw and above his lip, he wears a hoodie, jeans too—you think, you're not very sure of anything right now.

“Who are you?” you whisper. “Yours” he responds, taking a step closer and grabbing your waist. You giggle, you would laugh at anything right now, even a bad knock knock joke. “Seriously” you smiled at him as he guided you towards your bed, a small smile touches his lips but disappears when you don't comply and lay down. He’s annoyed you won't just lay back but he also loves the way you're staring at him; doe eyed.

“Simon, but don't tell anyone” he says, smiling at the giggles that leave your mouth. “Say my name, love” “simon?” you said softly. He could get used to this, listening to you like this every night, he should've done this much sooner.

“Do we know each other, Simon?” You ask, wondering how he got into your house, why he got in. “We’ve met. We’ve texted, remember? “Unknown” ring a bell?” “You're the stalker?” “Wouldn’t say “stalker,” love, more like a secret admirer, and you've seen me now so it's not secret anymore.”

You hum as he finally gets you to lay back on your mattress. “You comfy, love?” he asks, pulling the blankets over you. You hum again. He smiles and strokes your hair out of your face, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Drink some water” he whispers and holds the bottle for you as you drink from it. “Now, get some sleep, love” he whispers, kissing your temple, and stroking your hair with his fingers to coax you to sleep. It works perfectly, you're out like a light, in dreamland while Simon sits beside you and watches your sleepy, relaxed form.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing your head throughout the night.

The last kiss is the most painful for him, he leaves an aspirin water bottle on your bedside table, he’s tempted to leave a note but he’s sure it’ll send you into a panic when you wake up later. He leaves your room, fixes the lock on your door since he broke it when he broke in last night. And finally, he leaves.

#x reader stories #call of duty #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #stalker #stalker bf

81 notes · View notes