#daily monitor breaking news

[rebeccathenaturalist]

If you've ever shared "cute" pictures or videos from owl cafes, read this sobering reality check.

92 cafes across Japan hold over 1900 owls captive, simply for entertainment. This includes two species considered Near Threatened (Barred Eagle-owl Bubo sumatranus and Chaco Owl Strix chacoensis) and one Vulnerable species (Snowy Owl Bubo scandiacus). Moreover, there is a lack of transparency as to the origins of many of these owls, which may not all have been captive-bred. Species may have been mislabeled during import, and not all have paperwork showing they were legally imported, meaning there is a very good chance owl cafes feed into the illicit, non-sustainable wildlife trade.

What the article doesn't cover is how stressful these settings are for owls. They're bright, noisy, and confined, and the owls are exploited by the owners who allow untrained strangers to hold and pet them without consideration of the owl's well-being. The "break areas" where the owls can get away from direct contact are still within sight of patrons, meaning they are still subject to human contact.

Owls are not chickens. They are not domesticated birds that have spent thousands of years and thousands of generations in human company, being selectively bred for human-friendly, docile traits. Even a tame owl is still a wild animal with intact instincts that tell it it should be living a largely solitary life in a wide, open field or forest, not stuck in a small space with many other owls of assorted species and a bunch of people.

This also isn't a situation like falconry, where captive birds are given plenty of private space, and flown daily for physical and mental fitness. And a single cage may have dozens of owls, more than what limited staff can handle. Even if some of the birds are supposedly "rescues" (as at least one cafe's website claims), any reputable wildlife rescue is going to limit the contact between the animals and humans, and absolutely is not going to allow visitors to regularly take pictures with and handle the wildlife--even socialized, trained ambassador animals have very stringent limitations on direct contact.

So it's not at all unsurprising that an already highly unethical industry is likely contributing to the problem of questionable or illegal wildlife trade. This study is just one more piece of evidence suggesting that these cafes are anything but harmless, cute fun.

[little-forest-goblin]

Wait….what?

Teacher!Five x Teacher!reader

Synopsis: What happens when a grumpy stern history teacher meets the new sunshine teacher?

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

Five was grumpy you could say the least. Always annoyed and always on the students ass’s about their school work and their grades. You never saw him without a cup of coffee and without a suit. He taught an advanced history class and most left and went to there normal history within about 2 weeks of being there. He was not offended since he decided if they cant handle it then its best they go. Thats not exactly said with malice or mockingly just staright facts. Kinda like if you cant handle the heat get out of the kitchen. Well he was having a normal day sitting at his desk drinking his cup of coffee and walking around the classroom monitoring his students as they did their assignment. All was quiet and peaceful till you walked into his life. Litterally. You came to his classroom with a big smile adjusting your cat eye glasses and shirt “Hello, sir! if you didn’t know i’m new here and i decided to come introduce myself!” When five looked at you he swore his bones turned to jello and his cheeks heated in a tinge of pink and his heart went faster. He looked at you in awe for a second till he cleared his throat and in a stoic almost disinterested voice he spoke “Yes im aware of you. Im assuming you are Mrs L/N? The new art teacher?” Now normally he wouldnt give two damns about art but if this what would come with the art, a woman he could only dream of? hell he would fake an interest just for you. You smiled “Yes and you must be Mr Hargreeves! Oh how lovely it is to see you, Mr.” He chuckled nervously but pulled himself together enough to look like that grumpy annoyingly professional man “Yes it’s a pleasure” he tried to act casual. From that day forward he tried to hide his absolutely racing heart and the damned pink tinge on his cheeks. He couldn’t help but notice how sweet you were. He would never admit it but he would purposely walk past your art room to just catch a glimpse of you. Whenever you could catch him you would always tell him a good morning which would make him internally scream which was hidden behind a mask of stoicism and grumpiness.

On a normal Monday five had entered the teacher break room to get his daily cup of coffee only to find you already there pouring a little too much creamer for his liking into the cup. he quirked a brow and went to the machine and poured himself a cup of black coffee. “You oughta slow down there. Have some coffee with your creamer.” five had said without even looking up at her and focusing on his cup. you looked at him and smiled and put the creamer back in the employee fridge “There is coffee in it! i just dont like the bitterness of just coffee. Makes me feel like my tongue wants to shrivel into my body.” Five snorted a little at that and laughing a little. You went a little wide eyed “I’ve never heard you laugh before.” you looked at him with this sort of curious and wondrous look like a child inspecting a butterfly for the first time. Five went red in the cheeks and looked to you “Wh-what? I-“ he was gonna get a little defensive since he thought you might be poking fun but you interrupted “I like it.” you said as you never broke contact and sipped your cup and then smiled at him. He was taken aback at first but then he had a small smile on his face. You and him ended up talking for a long time until you guys almost ran late to get to your classrooms. From then on you and him would always end up finding some sort of excuse to be around each other and talk. His students tried to poke fun and joke with him about it but usually it was met with a glare which immediately would trigger a fight or flight response the usual response being flight.

Besides from getting a hard time from the students the teachers around them rooted for there unfolding story. They watched from the sidelines and listened in hoping that one day the word would be out that they were dating. Lets just say group chats would be filled with the gossip about ‘Oh look at how they look at each other’ or ‘She brought him cookies today for him to try and he looked like he wanted to carry her to a courthouse right then’. Her and five’s relationship was something people were waiting and watching.

Somewhere in near the end of the year you and his relationship was very close now. Talking to each other and laughing together. Five seemed to loosen up a bit though still the stoic strict man he was, he did let some things slide more now. Today was the last week of school he entered the teachers break room only to find you there. He smiled as he saw you had your overly sweet coffee creamer coffee and a donut from the donut boxes the principal provided for them. He came on over to the pot near you “I see your having a ball with your coffee and donut.” you smiled and chuckled and sipped your coffee “Yeah you should get one. the principal provided them to celebrate our good work throughout the year.” you said while smiling at him. he chuckled and set the pot back down “I think i am okay. Sweets in the morning will only upset my stomach.” he sipped his cup . You chuckled and nodded “That is understandable but one piece wont hurt you will it?” she said looking him in the eyes. Five felt his cheeks heat up at the eye contact and suddenly his mind was all flustered and foggy. God he could lose himself in you if you let him. You were so beautiful and he might as well be helplessly in love fool though he tried to stay focused it never did last long when near you. He snapped himself out of his daze and cleared his throat “Y-Yeah. One piece shouldn’t hurt.” he mentally kicked himself for stuttering. You smiled and you took a chunk of your donut and you don’t know why or what came over you but you brought it to his lips to feed him instead of, oh i don’t know, handing it to him like a normal person. You just couldn’t help it. It was not an unknown fact that he was handsome and getting to know him this past school year has been eye opening to who he truly is behind that mask of stoicism and grumpiness. Five was a little nervous but he didn’t oppose like on autopilot he took the piece between his teeth and lips and ate it. He couldn’t help but look at your flustered pink tinged cheeks and your beautiful eyes that held so much life in them. His own cheeks heated and his head felt like it was on cloud nine. Before he could even think properly he blurted out “I think i’m in love with you.” Your own eyes widened along with his own. Your heart raced and he about wanted to rip up the floorboards and crawl underneath and bury himself alive. You were shocked “Wait…what?” you had to hear him say it again. One more time. just once more. he immediately said “N-nothing!” and started hurriedly walking out. You followed behind “No, no what did you say!” he had such a red blush you woulda thought he had been sunburned “Nothing absolutely nothing go away!” you and him both walked past a group of gossipy teachers. “You just said you love me!” you yelled to him following behind him “No no i didn’t you’re delusional!” he cried out to you. The teachers had stopped their conversation and listened in on yours and giggled. One of the teachers Maggie smiled softly “Young love. What a wondrous thing.” another teacher chuckled and he said “Yeah in no time we will see them together.” another teacher sipped her coffee and said “Besides that y’all owe me 5 bucks each. I told you he would confess first.” the others groaned and reluctantly handed there 5 bucks.

———————————————————————

Hey guys! i hope you all liked this story! i hope y’all have a good day and i will see you in the next one! ❤️

[gejo333]

Jealousy

Miguel x fem! Spider! Reader

Pt. 2

Summary: You spend all your time training the new recruit which makes Miguel jealous. 🤭

Extremely light fluff.

It’s been a while since I did one-shots. But reading so many amazing Miguel fanfics sparked my passion again. I stayed up late finishing it, so I apologize in advance if I made any grammatical mistakes.

Miguel x reader one shots requests are open.

word count: 1.4k

————————————————————————

Miguel began to grow annoyed by how quiet his office at the Spider HQ had become in recent days. Before you came into his life, he liked the silence. But for the past year he has heard your sweet voice echo through these walls. Your laugh, your rants…he enjoyed listening to you.

While he worked, you would usually be near him trying to help in any way you could. You would watch one or two of the screens to help find anomalies to help ease his stress. During your early days here you were lost, which at the time greatly annoyed Miguel. But your persistence on helping him, finally had him cave as he then taught you a few things you could monitor. After that, you became part of his daily life. You always tried to ask him questions about himself, which bothered him at first, but now he cherished the conversations he had with you.

Except, in the past five days you have barely been around. Most likely because you were mentoring the newest recruit, Gwen. You were so excited when Miguel brought Gwen to HQ. Finally someone you can mentor. However, your attention towards the young female spider made another spider jealous.

“I don’t get it. How do you shoot your web like that without looking in that direction?” Gwen huffed in annoyance as for the tenth time she couldn’t do what the older female spider could. You chuckled at her frustration.

“It takes a lot of practice Gwen. It took me months to perfect that skill. I only showed this skill to you this afternoon.” You shot your web out, grabbing a water bottle without even glancing in the direction. You then tossed it to Gwen.

“Let’s take a small break and then we’ll continue your training.”

“Awesome!” Gwen tried again to shoot her web out like you did but she frowned when she heard Pavitr yell in surprise. Her web landed on the side of his face, scaring the poor spider half to death.

“Sorry Pavitr.” Gwen cringed which made you laugh at the scene.

“All good Gwen.” Pavitr chuckled as he removed the web.

“I see your learning from the best Gwen.” Hobie walked over, curious about what the trio was doing.

“Yep! Hopefully I can be as awesome of a spider-woman as her one day.” Gwen smiled. You pulled her into a hug from how adorable she was.

“Aww Gwen! You’re so sweet! But you already are an amazing spider woman.”

“Get use to the hugs Gwen. She’s a hugger.” Hobie chuckled as he saw Gwen slightly surprised by your gesture.

“Hey Y/N?” asked Gwen.

“What’s up?”

“Who taught you all your cool tricks?”

“I’m actually curious as well.” said Pavitr.

“I never told you guys?”

“Nope. But I thought you were just naturally gifted.” said Hobie.

“You’re sweet Hobie, but nope. I was once an amaterr too. I was taught by-” You paused when you saw Lyla appear right next to you. “Speak of the devil.” You mumbled out loud. Your comment earned you a few confused glances from the young group of spiders.

“What does he want now?”

Ever since you started training Gwen this week, Lyla has appeared multiple times a day telling you the same thing. Miguel wanted you back at the office.

When he sent Lyla to do this at the beginning of the week you complied. But you quickly realised he only wanted you back in the office for no particular task. Today it was the fourth time Lyla has graced her presence during Gwen’s training today.

“Same thing. I’m assuming it's the same response?” Lyla sighed.

“Yep.” With that she was gone. You sighed, hoping it was the last time she appeared today.

“Wait, hold up. Miguel O’Hara. Mr. Grump. Trained you?” Pavitr's eyes widened, jaw open.

“He did. And he isn’t a grump all the time. You just have to get to know him a bit better.”

“Oh God, training with him must have been hellish.” Hobie chuckled.

You chuckled remembering the first few weeks of your spider training with Miguel. Hobie wasn’t wrong. Miguel was not the most patient and easy-going instructor. At least for the first couple of months.

“It's ok if you need to go back to the office. He seems like he needs your help.” Said Gwen.

“I don’t need to be at the office. My time is more important here, training you to kick-ass!” You ruffled her hair slightly, which she tried to swat your hand away. Gwen didn't have an older sister. But definitely felt like Y/n was her sister.

“Breaks over! Now let's see how long you can last hanging from your web.”

Gwen began her endurance training as you timed her. Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Jess. She looked nervous.

“You alright Jess? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine. I’m just worried about what's going to happen to you. Miguel is looking for you. And he looks more annoyed than he normally is.” Jess chuckled.

“Thanks for the heads up Jess. I’ll handle him later when I’m done. You got this Gwen. Hold on a little-” You gasp as large hands grab you by the waist and throw you over a well-built shoulder.

“Miguel! Put me down!” You bang your fists against his back. You gasp from him pinching your cheek to make you stop.

“Y/n?!” Gwen asked, confused why her mentor was slinged over the boss’ shoulder. Jess stopped her from going after you as she chuckled. That poor spider was going to get it tonight.

“Pay up Hobie. I won the bet.” Pavitr pushed out his arm towards Hobie, asking for the money.

“Now hold on. You both lose. I said he would get her in five days. You said a week, Pavitr.” Jess grinned, to which both disappointed teenagers handed her the winnings.

“What just happened…” said Gwen.

…

Miguel enters his quarters where he finally removes you from his shoulder, setting you down. Your cheeks were red, from the embarrassing journey here. Being carried like that in front of all her colleagues. It was humiliating.

You notice Miguel went into his bedroom, coming out a few minutes later already out of his suit and into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that perfectly shaped him. He handed you a pair of short sweats and tank top that were a part of the few clothes you kept at his place.

After you slipped on what he gave you he gently grabbed your hand as he led you to his bedroom. He got on his side of the bed before you suddenly were grabbed by the waist and laid in between his legs, your back pressing against his chest. Now that you were both settled you finally broke the silence.

“So, what was that all about? Constantly asking Lyla to come fetch me and then carrying me here like a sack of potatoes.”

Miguel knew you were annoyed with him, but this was the first time in a week since he got to see you.

He kept quiet as he left butterfly kisses along your neck. Of course, if you weren’t annoyed at him you would melt into his touch. But he wasn’t going to get away with his actions.

“Miguel.” You groaned as you sat up and turned yourself to face him. “Please answer me.”

“Te extrañé, mi amor. It's been a week since you laid in bed with me. You spent all your time training Gwen.”

Your annoyance with him faded and was replaced with guilt. He had missed you being by his side.

Your breath hitched at the way he sat there in front of you with starved eyes, wanting only one thing. You. You moved back over to him and sat in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you gave him a loving kiss on the cheek. You chuckled.

“¿Por qué te ríes?” Miguel frowned slightly, eyebrows furrowed. You placed your hand on his cheek which he took and placed gentle kisses on your wrist.

“I think it’s cute that you’re jealous.” You lightly giggle. Your comment made his loving affection briefly stop as he sent you a playful glare.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Baby, you don’t need to lie to me. You totally were.”

Your giggles soon stopped as Miguel flipped you on the bed, now on top of you. You stare wide-eyed up at him as your cheeks were dusted pink.

A grin makes its way to his plush lips. He slowly begins kissing you up from your collarbone to your cheek as he removes your shorts. Now lips right against your ear, he whispers, “You won’t think twice about ignoring me after I’m done pounding myself deep into your pussy until morning.”

————————————————————————

Translations: “Te extrañé, mi amor.” = “ I missed you, my love.”

“¿Por qué te ríes?” = “ Why are you laughing?”

My Spanish is not the best so I needed a bit of google translate to help.

But I hope you enjoyed this light fluff one-shot. There will be plenty more to come!

[nenelonomh]

microhabits for a better life

microhabits are small, everyday behaviours that compound over time and can lead to significant changes. these tiny actions, which can take as little as 15 seconds, require minimal effort but yield substantial benefits when practised consistently. by focusing on microhabits, you break down ambitious goals into manageable steps that you build over extended periods.

microhabits work due to several psychological and behavioural factors. let's explore why they're effective:

microhabits have minimal barriers to entry. they’re so small that you can easily start them without much effort or resistance. for instance, doing one push-up or writing a single sentence in your journal requires very little activation energy.

consistently practising microhabits builds momentum over time. when you perform a tiny action daily, it reinforces positive behaviour and creates a sense of accomplishment. this consistency helps you stay on track toward your larger goals.

neuroplasticity! our brains adapt to repeated behaviours. by consistently practising microhabits, you strengthen neural pathways associated with those actions. over time, these pathways become more automatic, making it easier to maintain the habit.

microhabits shape your self-image. when you consistently label yourself as someone who meditates for a minute each day or reads a page before bed, it reinforces that identity. you’re more likely to continue the behaviour because it aligns with who you believe you are.

celebrating small victories boosts motivation. completing a microhabit provides a sense of achievement, even if it’s minor. these wins encourage you to keep going and build positive associations with the habit.

when establishing microhabits, it's essential to be aware of potential pitfalls. here are some common ones to watch out for:

setting unrealistic expectations: starting with overly ambitious microhabits can lead to frustration. instead, choose tiny actions that you can consistently perform without feeling overwhelmed.

skipping counting or accountability: not tracking your progress can hinder success. use a simple system (like a checklist or app) to monitor your daily microhabit completion. accountability helps maintain consistency.

neglecting consistency: microhabits rely on daily repetition. skipping days disrupts the habit-building process. even if you’re tired or busy, commit to your tiny actions consistently.

lack of trigger or cue: without a clear trigger, it’s easy to forget your microhabit. associate it with an existing routine (e.g., after brushing your teeth) to create a cue.

not celebrating small wins: acknowledge each successful completion. celebrate these small victories to reinforce positive associations with the habit.

changing too many habits simultaneously:  focus on one microhabit at a time. trying to establish multiple habits simultaneously can lead to overwhelm and decreased adherence.

staying motivated to maintain microhabits can be challenging, but here are some strategies to help you stay on track:

visual reminders: place visual cues in your environment. for instance, if you want to drink more water, keep a water bottle on your desk as a reminder.

pair with existing habits: attach your microhabit to an existing routine. for example, if you want to stretch daily, do it right after brushing your teeth in the morning.

track progress: use a habit-tracking app or a simple calendar. mark each day you complete your microhabit. seeing your streak grow can be motivating.

accountability: share your microhabits with a friend or family member. having someone to check in with can boost motivation.

set clear goals: define specific goals for your microhabits. for instance, instead of “exercise more,” set a goal like “walk for 5 minutes daily.”

reflect on benefits: regularly remind yourself why you started. reflect on the positive impact these small actions will have over time.

the best time to start a new microhabit is now! seriously, don't wait for a specific moment. begin with a small action that aligns with your goal, and let consistency work its magic. whether it’s right after waking up, during lunch, or before bed, the key is to start and keep going. 

the time it takes to form a microhabit can vary, but research suggests that consistency over an extended period is crucial. on average, it may take around 66 days for a behaviour to become automatic and habitual. however, individual factors, such as motivation, context, and the complexity of the habit, play a role.

here are some examples of successful microhabits:

drink a glass of water when you wake up

take five deep breaths before starting work

stretch or do yoga for five minutes every morning

clean off the top of your desk before leaving your room

meditate for just five minutes

create a list before grocery shopping

learn something new each day

use affirmations, or visualisation to boost your mindset

further reading: Focus on “Microhabits” to Change Your Behavior (hbr.org) How Micro Habits Can Change Your Life & 50 Micro Habit Ideas (simplifycreateinspire.com) Micro Habits: The Secret to Achieving Your Goals (behealthful.io) Microhabits: Small-but-Mighty Catalysts for Change — Blog | Jody Michael Associates

i hope today's post was helpful! ❤️ nene

image source: pinterest

[xcherryerim]

Strange Fascination

Part One: A Mocha With A side Of Your Sight

pt.two

Stalker!Mike x gn!reader

“Every morning, in front of you at last, I stand again, as if I'm enchanted. I'm still half-awake, the haziness guiding me towards you.” — Iced Coffee by Red velvet

This story will lead to smut (not this part but the second) If you’re not up for that, do not read this!

Warning: obsession/ stalking | mentions of over-usage (with sleeping pills but yk) | Breaking in readers house

Notes: This part is meant to describe Mike’s fascination on reader and how he ends up breaking into reader’s house so, this part mainly focuses on Mike along side Abby. Part two will focus mainly on reader. (also this was revised like 3 times so, yk not that perfect)

Summary: After not seeing you at school to pick up your brother, his mind is flooded with worry. In an excuse to hangout with his sister, Mike drove near your place, observing your every move through the cafe window.

Mike tends to obsess easily. Whether it's with re-living the events of his lost brother, collecting nostalgic artifacts, or reading a stack load of psychology books. It’s an innocent hobby and it’s not harming anyone, but lately, he started to be captivated by a new subject.

Four months have passed since Abby began attending middle school, but Mike can still vividly recall the very first moment he laid eyes on you. That fateful day remains etched in his memory, as though it happened just yesterday.

Despite the mounting stress surrounding his impending court case against his Aunt, Mike attempted to maintain a composed demeanor for Abby's sake. She was embarking on a significant transition, moving from her familiar surroundings to a larger and more complex educational environment.

As he patiently awaited Abby’s emergence from the classroom, his nerves were further tested when a stranger appeared and positioned themselves near him, close enough for the musky Vanilla scent to reach his nose.

Under normal circumstances, Mike would shy away from making eye contact with strangers, unless he had a specific reason to engage with them. However, on this particular day, he found himself inexplicably drawn to look up, and there you are, standing before him. In his eyes, you appeared as a divine being, an angel who had descended from the heavens, sent to watch over him and him alone.

Your presence sent a shiver down his spine, heightening his nervous energy while simultaneously eliciting a sense of comfort and security.

Though Mike remained silent, his eyes meticulously took in every detail of your visage, committing your likeness to memory. His behavior was not intended to be unsettling; rather, it stemmed from an innate need to capture your image in his mind.

Suddenly, you broke the silence with a timid "Hi," which caught him off guard. Taken aback, Mike responded with a soft, "Hello, you."

While seeing you for mere moments each weekday may seem like a fleeting encounter, Mike's keen observation skills allowed him to make the most of these brief instances. He meticulously studied your routine, scrutinizing the subtle variations in the timing of your arrival to collect your brother.

On Mondays and Thursdays, you could be found arriving precisely at 3:20, while Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays offered slightly longer windows, ranging from 3:30 to 3:46.

Through diligent study and careful attention, Mike managed to piece together a comprehensive understanding of your schedule, ensuring that he wouldn't miss a single opportunity to catch a glimpse of you.

In addition to monitoring your schedule, Mike began to decode the nuances of your moods based on your daily attire. Although you generally stuck to the same color scheme, he discerned subtle differences that hinted at your emotional state.

For instance, a particular long-sleeve shirt signaled haste, while an oversized graphic tee indicated fatigue. Even minor alterations to your hairstyle served as clues to your mental landscape. Over time, Mike committed countless details to memory, even going so far as to surreptitiously follow your vehicle to ascertain your home address.

However, despite these extensive efforts at understanding and learning about you, the interactions remained limited to brief greetings - a tantalizing taste of connection amidst the vast sea of unspoken longing.

On this particular Wednesday, chaos reigned as students spilled from the classroom, jostling one another in their rush to leave. Amidst the pandemonium, Abby found herself standing beside Mike, sensing the turmoil in his gaze.

Intrigued, she queried, "Why are we still here?" Her question snapped him back to the present, and he stammered, struggling to formulate a coherent thought.

Remembering the purpose of their wait, he asked, "Um, Abbs, did your classmate... was it Gregory? Did he come to school today?"

Abby couldn't help but furrow her brow, wondering if Mike's preoccupation was related to you. "No," she replied briefly before leading the way, prompting him to follow reluctantly.

Attempting to shift gears, he inquired about the solar system project Mike helped her with.

"So, how did your presentation go? Did you score a hundred?"

Abby sighed, clarifying, "The science teacher never gives hundreds, but I managed to snag a ninety-seven."

“That’s still pretty good, Abbs. Don’t worry.” He smiled.

Mike struggled to suppress his desire to visit your residence, the concern for your well-being clouding his judgment. His anxiety threatened to derail his focus on the road, nearly resulting in a collision and earning him seven irate honks from fellow drivers.

Abby wondered if her mental prayers on the road helped them get home safely. She was now standing in front of the kitchen table, as his brother, still with his anxious look served her spaghetti. As she polished off her meal, she observed Mike's restless hands continuously picking at his uneaten food.

Unsure whether to approach him about his obvious distress, she hesitated, suspecting that he might dismiss her concerns. Enveloped by the deafening silence, she contemplated retreating to her room or remaining to offer support. Ultimately, it was Mike who broke the quiet standoff, tentatively proposing, "Do you want to go for a walk?"

This unexpected invitation perplexed her; sibling bonds between the two had predominantly revolved around shared chores, academic assistance from Mike, and marathon sessions of cheesy films.

However, the unfamiliarity of a walk piqued Abby’s interest. Sensing hidden intentions, she inquired, "Why?"

Mike attempted to deflect his sister's probing gaze, replying casually, "Just feel like getting some fresh air."

With that, he grabbed his keys and confidently declared, "I know a great spot."

Mike navigated his vehicle to a parking spot near the park, consciously avoiding your location to not seem suspicious. As they walked, Mike maintained a brisk pace, pushing Abby to her limits as she struggled to keep up.

After a few exhausting minutes, the excuse he needed to invite Abby to the coffee shop on your street appeared.

"Oh, you're tired?" he feigned innocence, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "I think I recall seeing a coffee shop nearby."

Upon reaching the coffee shop, the once-unfamiliar street suddenly held an uncanny familiarity for Abby. Though she couldn't comprehend the reasoning behind this sensation, she was relieved to see a genuine grin spread across Mike's face. While appreciative of his newfound composure, the peculiar nature of his smile continued to nag at her subconscious. Little did she know, her apprehension foreshadowed the depth of his new fixation.

Mike's gaze roamed the coffee shop, absorbing the ambiance - the warm lighting, the rich scent of coffee beans, and the soothing fragrance of lavender. His imagination ran wild, conjuring visions of an intimate date with you in this very locale.

He envisioned himself sitting across from you at a cozy café. As you brought the mug to your lips, he reached out gently, wiping away a stray dollop from your mouth. Your eyes met his, filled with warmth and understanding.

In this fantasy, he leaned in, lips meeting softly in a tender kiss. His fingers traced the softness of your cheek, feeling the warmth beneath his touch. The taste of espresso mingled with the sweetness of your lips, a unique blend that only you could create. In this dream reality, there was no fear, no anxiety, just two people finding comfort in each other's presence.

“What would you like to order?” The Barista on the register repeated.

Startled from his reverie, Mike hastily blurted out his order, "A latte and a mocha, both small!"

Aware of his volume, he flushed with embarrassment, but his impassioned state rendered him indifferent to etiquette. Paying for the drinks without delay, he claimed a seat by the window facing your house, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Despite the glaring sunlight and the parade of cars obscuring his view, Mike strained his eyes to catch sight of you through the window. Your shadowy outline offered solace, indicating that you were safe and sound. In contrast, your brother Gregory appeared increasingly agitated, doodling with shaky hands.

Concerned, you checked on him intermittently, hoping to ease his discomfort.

Your house consumed Mike's attention, leaving him oblivious to the arrival of the drinks. Abby stepped in to retrieve their coffees, presenting Mike with a gentle nudge back to reality.

"How's yours?" she inquired, attempting to break his trance. Snapped out of his daydream, Mike took a sip and confirmed, "Yeah, it's good." Almost immediately, his gaze returned to the reflection of your house in the mirror.

Fixated on your home, Mike caught a glimpse of you speaking on the phone, setting off a barrage of questions in his mind. Who were you speaking to? Was there someone else in your life? Dismissing the thought of a secret partner, he rationalized that he would have detected indicators of such-jewelry, perhaps a ring. Unless…

"You seem to like that house," Abby observed, taking a sip of her latte.

“I like the design. You know I wanted to be a—“

"Contractor," Abby concluded, and Mike nodded vigorously. His fascination with architecture was well-known, but the true extent of his infatuation remained shrouded in mystery.

"Hopefully, you'll get to live in a beautiful home someday, Abby," Mike responded earnestly, his stare fixed on the distant house. While not prone to overt displays of emotion, his wishes for her happiness emanated sincerely. He genuinely cherishes his sister.

"I hope you do too," Abby whispered, her tone laced with warmth. Pondering whether this excursion sprang from simple brotherly camaraderie rather than anything sinister, she allowed herself a flicker of optimism.

Though his gaze remained trained on your place, the tenderness in Abby's voice elicited a faint smile from Mike.

"Let's get a better look," she proposed, rising from her seat.

Inside, Mike wrestled with uncertainty, questioning the wisdom of their actions. Nonetheless, the need to observe you closely trumped his reservations, justifying this intrusion into your privacy.

“I like how you think.” He replied, following his sister out of the coffee shop.

Fortuitously, the absence of traffic allowed Mike to traverse the street without incident, his impulsive stride mirroring a moth drawn to a flickering flame. Unaware of the potential danger, he followed you with unwavering determination, guided by an insatiable curiosity.

While Abby visualized herself residing in such a picturesque abode, lost in dreams of interior decor, Mike scrutinized the property, seeking vulnerabilities. Numerous avenues of entry loomed ominously, igniting a protective instinct within him. The last thing Mike wanted was for a total stranger to be near your house.

Fixated on identifying threats, Mike scanned the landscape from left to right. His focus alighted upon a window, likely your room, taunting him with easy access. Steeling himself against temptation, he decided to not to cross that line- at least, for now.

The sudden noise of crunchy leaves being stomped upon immediately made Mike walk away from the property as he forced Abby out of there, yet his eyes analyzed the new stranger, walking cluelessly at your house with a box of Pizza at hand.

Relief washed over Mike as his insecurities dissolved, only to be supplanted by irritation at the presumed flirtatiousness of the pizza delivery boy. Perhaps he was overreacting, yet his protective instincts screamed for confrontation, longing to rain down retribution upon the perceived transgressor.

Yet, Mike resisted allowing his fury to dictate his actions. With a renewed sense of purpose, he hastily departed from the scene. Your safety brought him solace, but your home's vulnerability haunted him.

As the clock struck 10:30 pm, Mike found himself unable to sleep, despite having ingested more than the recommended dose of his sleeping pills. Typically, these medications ensured a swift descent into slumber, but tonight, they failed to deliver their usual sedative effect.

Despite the meticulously arranged bedding, the soft hum of nature sounds, and the impeccably positioned Nebraska poster, Mike's restlessness persisted. Could it be that thoughts of you encroached upon his subconscious? Unsure of how to quell his turbulent emotions, he lay awake, grappling with his feelings.

At 11:16 am, the silence of the night echoed through. In this deserted hour, as others slumbered, Mike contemplated a surreptitious visit. Perhaps, under the cloak of darkness, he could safeguard your sanctuary from unseen threats.

Wrapping himself in a mantle of darkness, Mike donned a black cap, hoodie, and athletic bottoms - attire atypical for him. Mike did this to devise an alibi. if someone sees him making sure you're safe (which he knows in the sight of strangers it might look weird) he can just say he was exercising. Perfect solution.

Mike walked on his tippy toes, making sure to make no noise, as he grabbed his keys and made sure the house was locked tightly. Locks secure, keys in hand, he commenced the engine.

Despite the pill-induced haze clouding his senses, his concentration sharpened as he navigated deserted streets, only semi-trailers punctuating his journey. Finally arriving at your residence, he prepared to watch over you from the shadows.

The closer Mike got to you, the more his heart raced, pumping blood like a freight train against his ribcage. Every step he took brought forth a flurry of emotions - excitement mingled with anxiety, fear intertwined with anticipation. The fine line between obsession and love blurred in his mind, and it fueled him further into the unknown.

He stopped mere feet away from the window of your room. Peering through the glass pane, he could see the faint silhouette of you under the covers, sleeping peacefully. A wave of relief washed over him, replacing the earlier dread with a strange sense of satisfaction.

He watched you breathe rhythmically, your chest rising and falling gently with each breath. Despite the late hour, there was something comforting about seeing you safe and sound.

His fingers traced the cold surface of the glass, feeling its smooth texture against his palm. A mix of longing and protectiveness swelled within him, making his chest tighten. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed next to you, hold you close, and keep you safe from all harm. Yet, he knew better than to disturb your slumber. This was as close as he dared get.

Mike's heart pounded in his chest as the lights flickered on inside the house. His instincts kicked in, propelling him into the nearest hiding spot - a cluster of dense bushes. He pressed himself against the cool ground, hoping to remain unseen.

What could have caused you to switch on the lights so suddenly? Were you disturbed by something? Or did you have a nightmare?

In the glow of the moonlight, he could see you standing by the window, looking out into the night. Your posture seemed tense and your hoodie confirmed it.

There was an unmistakable air of distress around you, which resonated deeply with Mike's own experiences. Could it be possible that you were going through something similar?

A wave of empathy surged through Mike. He wanted nothing more than to comfort you, to offer you a shoulder to lean on, a warm embrace to banish your fears away. But he knew better than to intrude on your privacy. Instead, he stayed hidden, watching over you from the darkness, praying silently for your well-being.

As you emerged from the room, Mike hesitated briefly. His instincts screamed at him to hide, to disappear into the shadows before being discovered. But something within him rebelled, urging him forward. Before he could think twice, he was lifting the window sash, the squeaky hinge echoing in the silence of the night.

Once inside, he hurriedly shut the window, heart pounding wildly in his chest. He knew this was reckless, yet it felt necessary. As he scanned the slightly messy room, his eyes fell upon the forgotten spot beneath the bed - a haven of security amidst uncertainty. Without giving it a second thought, he squeezed himself underneath, his body brushing against discarded clothes and half-filled notebooks.

In this cramped space, he listened closely for any signs of detection. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mingling with the grit and dust from the floor. He felt exposed yet strangely protected, like a child playing hide and seek.

"Sorry," he whispered under his breath, hoping you would understand his intentions.

Mike was already anxious, the adrenaline of being in your room and the effects of the dosage made him a panicked mess.

The sound of you entering the room sent a ripple of dread through Mike. His heart pounded against his ribcage, beating out an erratic rhythm that threatened to give him away. Sweat dripped from his brow, pooling in the dimly lit corner where he lay concealed. His breath hitched in his throat, each gasp amplified in the quiet space.

When you moved closer to the bed, Mike held his breath, bracing for impact. But instead of anger or fear, a scream echoed through the room. Startled, he scrambled back, knocking into a pile of books that had somehow ended up under the bed. Papers rustled and pages fluttered, creating a symphony of noise that seemed deafening in the silent bedroom.

"I'm fucked," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

To be continued…

Thank you so much for reading. Hope you will support this mini series! xoxo (if you want to be tagged on the next part let me know!)

[mariacallous]

“Video has come out from Bucks County, Pennsylvania showing a ballot counter destroying ballots for Donald Trump and keeping Kamala Harris's ballots for counting,” an account called “Dan from Ohio” wrote in the comment section of the far-right website Gateway Pundit. “Why hasn't this man been arrested?”

But Dan is not from Ohio, and the video he mentioned is fake. He is in fact one of hundreds of inauthentic accounts posting in the unmoderated spaces of right-wing news site comment sections as part of a Russian disinformation campaign. These accounts were discovered by researchers at media watchdog NewsGuard, who shared their findings with WIRED.

“NewsGuard identified 194 users that all target the same articles, push the same pro-Russian talking points and disinformation narratives, while masquerading as disgruntled Western citizens,” the report states. The researchers found these fake accounts posting comments in four pro-Trump US publications: the Gateway Pundit, the New York Post, Breitbart, and Fox News. They were also posting similar comments in the Daily Mail, a UK tabloid, and French website Le Figaro.

“FOX News Digital’s comment sections are monitored continuously in real time by the outside company OpenWeb which services multiple media organizations,” a spokesperson for the company tells WIRED. “Comments made by fake personas and professional trolls are removed as soon as issues are brought to our attention by both OpenWeb and the additional internal oversight mechanisms we have in place.”

Breitbart replied to WIRED's request for comment in Russian: "Пожалуйста, скажите Newsguard, чтобы они пошли на хуй." In English, this means "please tell Newsguard to go fuck themselves."

The Gateway Pundit and the New York Post did not respond to a request for comment from WIRED.

“The actors behind this campaign appear to be exploiting a particularly vulnerable part of the media landscape,” McKenzie Sadeghi, the AI and foreign influence editor at NewsGuard, tells WIRED. “Comment sections designed to foster reader engagement lack robust security measures, allowing bad actors to post freely, change identities, and create the illusion of genuine grassroots campaigns rather than orchestrated propaganda.”

The disinformation narratives being pushed by these accounts are linked to Storm-1516, according to Newsguard. Storm-1516 is a Russian disinformation campaign with a history of posting fake videos to push Kremlin talking points to the West that was also connected to the release of deepfake video falsely claiming to show a whistlelbower making allegations of sexual assault against vice presidential candidate and Minnesota governor Tim Walz. (WIRED first reported that the Walz video was part of a campaign by Storm-1516. A day later, the US government confirmed WIRED’s reporting.)

Links to the video were posted by multiple accounts with names like “Disobedient Truth” and “Private Patriot” in the comment section of outlets like Breitbart and the Gateway Pundit.

“More bad news for the Dems: Breaking: Tim Walz's former student, Matthew Metro, drops a shocking allegation- claims Walz s*xually assaulted him in 1997 while Walz was his teacher at Mankato West High School,” the comments read.

The links posted in the comments came hours before the video was shared on social media platforms like X, where it racked up millions of views.

After the Bucks County video went viral, researchers quickly traced it back to Storm 1516. US intelligence agencies then confirmed Russia was behind the fake video.

Russian influence operations have, in the past, made use of comment sections to boost their narratives, including during their campaign to disrupt the 2016 elections. This is the first time this tactic has been reported as part of Russia’s efforts to disrupt the 2024 presidential election.

“Replying in threads is a tactic that can have an impact with very little investment,” Darren Linvill, codirector at Clemson University’s Media Forensics Hub, tells WIRED. “By inserting disinformation into an unrelated conversation it might be seen, even if the account being used has no followers and was just created yesterday. It also doesn't matter if the account you are using is caught and shut down because you haven't lost an investment, you can just create another account five minutes later.”

The fake comments, Newsguard found, are also then used in reports from Russian state-backed media outlets to bolster claims about how Western audiences are responding to a particular incident.

After the Trump assassination attempt in July, Tsargrad TV published an article titled “Biden's Trace in Trump's Assassination Attempt. Americans Agree with the Kremlin's Version: ‘Russians Are Right.’” The article outlined how Americans believe that the Biden administration played a part in the shooting, citing “comments to articles in Western media” as evidence.

NewsGuard’s researchers identified 104 articles in Russian state media that cited comments from Western news outlets as evidence to back up their claims between January and August of this year.

“This tactic allows bad actors to reduce the risk of detection and embed propaganda in a subtle, seemingly organic way, blending it into the casual commentary of supposed everyday Western readers,” Sadeghi said. “The repetition of the same claim across multiple formats and contexts can create a sense of familiarity that may lend the narratives an appearance of credibility.”

The network of accounts has also been used to seed other narratives, including one earlier this month where dozens of comments in the New York Post and Breitbart claimed, without evidence, that Ukrainian president Volodmyr Zelensky had used Western military aid to purchase a car that once belonged to Adolf Hitler.

That claim has been spread by the network of inauthentic websites controlled by former Florida cop John Dougan, who now lives in Moscow and runs a network of pro-Kremlin websites. Dougan’s network of websites have previously shared disinformation narratives from Storm-1516.

[soundlessdreamss]

Hey!! i saw your fanfics and i loved it! How about something like, Alastor x Furina/Focalors Reader? It can be either Platonic or Romantic!

hi hi!! Of course I can do this, I’ll also be doing vox x furina reader in this post as I got a request to do that aswell. ^_^ This will include platonic and romantic headcannons for them.

Alastor x furina!reader & Vox x furina!reader

Platonic Alastor:

To say he wasn’t intrigued by you was a lie. You caught his attention during a overlord meeting where you had not a single care in the world about what was going to happen in hell, since you saw it as your “stage” to perform.

He didn’t really get how and why you acted the way you did. You always overreacted and had dramatic reactions to small things happening but only if it was something that affected your people in hell. Yet you always kept a playful attitude and be very cocky.

During the meeting where you really caught his attention is when you stood up against Camilla and managed to start a whole fight which made the meeting end early.

He followed after you once you left the meeting and wanted to introduce himself to you. (As if you didn’t already know him)

You liked how he acted similarly to you in a way, you both mainly cared about your own good or at least your peoples own good. So it wasn’t that hard for you guys to bond and become good friends.

If someone caused you trouble during a trial let’s just say Alastor has your back.

You guys grew an inseparable bond but you also seemed to cling onto Alastor because you didn’t really have anyone else to hang out with because your responsibilities and trials.

He didn’t seem to mind this this though and slowly you guys grew feelings for each other.

You were the only one who Alastor seemed to like and hang out with the most but it took you guys quite a while to confess.

Romantic Alastor:

Once (he or you) confessed first the other accepted and to think you were clingy before. Well now your like 100x more clingy and needy because even though you know Alastor loves you, your still worried that he’ll leave you or stop giving you his time with this new hotel project he’s working on.

He reassures you daily that he could never just abandon you and that he adores you. But sometimes you still feel worry that you’ll be abandoned. Just like how focalors left you to put an act on for 500 years.

He also sees how you hide your pain underneath the smile of your act, he worries for you as your mental health is definitely not in the best shape right now.

He tries to encourage you to take breaks and spend time for yourself but, you can’t help but worry that if you do the plan will fail.

Once your act is over after 500 years you immediately run over to him and break down because your finally free from all the stress that you had to carry on your shoulders.

Platonic Vox:

One day as he was monitoring the whole city, he couldn’t help but look closer into one of the screens to see you. You had caught his attention just by how you acted and dressed.

In order to get closer to become your friend he visited one of your trials and after it was done he followed you and started up a conversation with you.

Ever since then you guys spent a ton of time together. It was an unbreakable bond between you too and you both grew attached to each other.

He cared for your safety and you cared for his. But sometimes you were a bit too busy with all the trials you have to do and judging. And he started to notice how burnout you became, but he didn’t know how long you actually put on that act.

One day when you finally had free time he scheduled a “meeting” (actually a date to confess to u lol) and it went well if you accepted. If you didn’t accept his confession he understood because you were always so busy with court cases.

Romantic Vox:

After you two became official he put a lot of secret technology of his in your court place to keep an eye on you. He didn’t want you to get hurt by a filthy sinner now would he?

He cares for you deeply and worries for your mental health because your always busy judging people and deciding whether or not they are guilty.

He felt his heart drop when he heard you almost died that day you were sentenced guilty.

He rushed over to your city and when he saw you outside checking the city after it was all over he ran over to you and gave you a big hug.

You cried in his arms as all of the stress you had on your shoulders was finally gone and you could live freely as a overlord now without having to worry 24/7 if the plan would work.

Tag list: @villxinmiixx

[run2yoongi]

after hours | myg x reader

for whatever reason, your boss liked to work you to the bone. your countless hours of overtime and extra work never seemed to tide him over, he always expected more. after a year, your patience was wearing thin, so you finally decide to ask him what it is exactly he wants.

↳ pairing: boss!yoongi x reader

↳ setting: office worker au, kinda angsty, smut

↳ warnings: explicit sexual content, bondage, unethical power dynamics/abuse of power, degradation, unprotected sex (dont do it bbyz), hurt and comfort, dacryphilia, mean dom!yoongi, teasing, spanking, creampie, no aftercare, female prefixes for reader (miss).

↳ side note: word count is 3.3k!

masterlist

"goodnight!" your coworker called out over his shoulder, waving at you as he rounded the corner and left you alone in your cold, clinical office. you hadn't even bothered to look away from your screen, just humming in response. you were tired. exhausted, if you were being honest with yourself.

you couldn't afford to be honest with yourself though, you didn't have the time. your boss, min yoongi, had asked you to send another updated report to him due in twenty minutes. you were scrounging through emails, looking to find a reference number that you knew your coworker probably hadn't even thought to send to you. it was getting impossible.

you glanced over to the corner of your desktop screen to check if you'd missed yet another dinner with the guy you'd been seeing on and off again for the last year.

7:12pm

not only were you meant to meet him at 7, but you were meant to finish work at 4. before you could even let out a frustrated sigh and search for your phone to apologise, you felt the weight of a hand rest on the back of your chair, tilting you backward, making you lose your balance.

your panicked eyes flew up to the perpetrator, coloured with a mix of anger and confusion. "do i need to enroll you in training for how to sit in a chair now?" yoongi spoke, an arrogant smirk tugging on his lips. if only he wasn't your boss, you'd think about slapping him.

you gathered yourself and swiftly sat upright, twirling the chair around slightly to break his grip. it had been over a year yet, you were still stunned by how beautiful your boss is. his dark hair was swept softly behind his ears, allowing the harsh office lighting to highlight the peaks of face, his nose and cheekbones. you'd accepted the job offer the second he'd extended it. how could you refuse a face like that?

you remembered how soft his lips looked when he'd smiled at you for the first time, right when you came in for your interview. if you'd known then that you'd be working 11 hour days, maybe you'd have realised that he was likely smiling because you'd fallen right into his trap.

"how's the report coming along?" he asked as his smirk faded into a stern line. you sighed, glancing back at your monitor. "i'm just looking for one last item, and i'll be done." you explained, attempting to keep the fatigue out of your tone to no avail.

"you're still new, but you should be working on your efficiency, y/n." he sighed, shifting his weight to lean on your desk. you swallowed the anger growing in your throat, nodding in response. "yes, sir." you bit the inside of your cheek, lost for words at his condescension. silence filled the room, and the tension in your stomach was growing unbearable.

what the fuck did he want from you?

none of your other coworkers had to submit daily reports, and you were the only one expected to bring everyone coffee in the morning, the only one expected to set up meeting rooms for yoongi without being asked, the only one who did almost four hours of over time every day.

"d-did everyone have to do all this when they started here?" you asked, gulping as you suppressed the anxiety that rose from questioning your boss. he raised an eyebrow at you, crossed his arms across his chest, and sighed, not breaking his scolding gaze. "what do you mean?"

"oh, i- uh." you stuttered, heat spreading across your face. "the reports, and the..." you trailed off, eyes darting across the empty office. "the overtime." you finished quietly.

yoongi stared at you, examining the pink flush growing across your cheeks and ears. his eyes flashed with amusement as you squirmed under his gaze, desperate for him to break the silence and answer the question. "i- i don't mind, it's just..." you stuttered, unable to look anywhere besides the floor beneath you.

"...you just?" he asked, voice dripping with levity.

"i mean, tonight, for example," you swallowed, struggling to find your words. "i had plans that i had to miss because of all the extra work." you heard him let out a short exhale, a silent laugh at your desperate plea. "extra work? you think you're working harder than your coworkers?" he mused. your eyes flew up to meet his teasing grin, shocked at his misinterpretation of your words. "that's not what i meant-" you began to explain, shifting in your seat.

"is there somewhere you'd rather be, miss y/n?" he asked smugly grinning at your panicked state. you hesitated, because yes, of course, there was somewhere you'd rather be. he stretched his hand out on your desk, sliding his pointer across it before checking for dust. "how about you finish the report, and then we can talk." he added, standing up from his position on your desk before straightening his blazer jacket and nodding his farewell at you.

-

after yoongi's brief intervention, you'd finished even later than you anticipated. the printer jamming didn't help either, you'd only managed to place your report on your boss's desk before 8pm. it was already dark out and you were contemplating calling an uber instead of catching the bus when yoongi interrupted your train of thought. "before you go," he spoke, gesturing to the seat in front of you at his desk. without a word, you took a seat, placing your hands in your lap.

"tell me about how you're being overworked." he invited, leaning back in his chair. your eyes flickered to the small of his waist, and you noted that he'd taken his jacket off, now tossed on the couch against the wall. you eyed his collar, the loosened tie, the top button undone. you'd never seen him disheveled like this.

"well?" he asked, noticing exactly where your eyes were going.

"i- i mean, i'm the only one here so far after hours." you spoke, stumbling over your words as you snapped out of your sinful thoughts. "and doing the team reports, i- i don't..."

a smile spread across his features as he slowly stood up from his chair and sauntered over to you, seating himself on his desk, his thighs only inches away from your knees. "i'm here too, you know." he spoke almost in a whisper, drawing you in. "you know the saying about diamonds being forged under pressure?" he added, not expecting an answer.

you shook your head, frustration building up and spreading across your body. "i guess i just don't know what you expect of me, sir." you sighed, unable to prevent the anger you felt slipping into your speech.

yoongi tutted, crossing his legs in front of you. "only the best from you," he laughed quietly. "you want to know how to please me, y/n?" he asked, fingers tracing down the length of his tie as his facade of professionalism seemed to vanish. you nodded, ignoring the icy sensation of butterflies in your stomach. he leaned over, lowering his face until it was just above yours. "be better." he spoke.

your eyes started burning and tears formed at their corners almost instantly. the sinking feeling in your stomach was almost painful as your chin quivered at the insult. you couldn't look at him. you had been working hellish hours, day in and day out at his request and this is how he regarded you. your view of the floor began to blur as a tear fell down your cheek and onto your thigh.

you flinched and closed your eyes as yoongi extended his arm to you and cupped your face, the pad of his thumb smearing a tear across your cheek. his touch was cold, providing relief for you in your heated state. you couldn't help but lean into his hand, despite your anger. "so pretty," he said under his breath as it hitched. you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confused. through your blurred vision, you saw him swallow.

"fuck," he breathed, staring into your eyes as his hand went from your face to his mouth. you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to save yourself from the humiliation of crying in front of your boss. "stand up." he demanded, face deadly serious while you stared at him, bewildered. after you sat there, still, his hand reached out to pull you from the chair. you felt how hard and fast your heart was beating, how the confusion slowed your brain down, heat stirring deep inside you.

"you're such an obedient worker," he spoke, still looking down over you as he leaned on his desk. "always do whatever i say,". silence filled the room again as your heart hammered in your chest. you hated him for doing this to you and you were embarrassed, but his hot-and-cold tone made it impossible for you to leave. his words made you feel something, a mixture of humiliation and heat. you wanted his approval, his validation and you wanted him. you wanted it so bad you ached.

"that's why i keep you around, y/n." he finally spoke.

you gulped, the frustration and confusion mixing to form a mess of arousal and eagerness to please your boss. "y-you keep me back because i do what you want?" you ask, trying to keep what was left of your professional composure, although yoongi's had clocked out a long time ago.

he nodded slowly, breathing you in as you stood before him. "bend over." he instructed, finally standing. "that's what i want." he added, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. you contemplated it, mulling it over in your mind. yoongi wasn't going to make you do it, he was waiting to see how far you'd go.

"you'll let me go home at a reasonable hour?" you asked, it slowly dawning on you what exactly you were negotiating over. yoongi hummed and walked behind you, pulling the chair away from the desk. "i don't think you'll want to, but we'll see.". the thought sent a wave of electricity through you.

you didn't know what to expect from yoongi. of course, you'd thought about fucking him, but in your fantasies you were made to share a bed at some work trip, it had been romantic and critically, hadn't started with you crying. nevertheless, you stepped forward towards the desk and placed your hands on the cool wooden surface.

you felt his hand press against the expanse of your thigh, rubbing it over in soothing motions before he retracted it and landed a cruel, hard slap against the tender spot. you groaned at the lingering sting on your skin, knees buckling beneath you as your jaw clenched. "what you really lack," he spanked your thigh again, harder and higher up your legs. "is discipline."

he placed a hand on your back, pushing you further down and bringing your face flush against the desk. you felt your skirt hitch up and rest against your hips, revealing your plain black underwear. you certainly hadn't expected anyone to be seeing your ass today, otherwise, you might have worn something a litter lacier. yoongi didn't seem to mind as he groped the flesh of your ass before landing another slap, this time on your behind, earning a strangled moan.

"this is what you're good for," he growled as he brought your hands behind your back. you heard the rustling of fabric before feeling him place his tie around your wrists, wrapping it tightly around them before pulling it into a knot with a swift yank. he spanked you again before stepping back to take in the sight with an approving smile.

"so tell me where you'd rather be, y/n." he mused, rubbing the reddening hand marks on your skin. "getting fucked by some fucking low-life who can't even pick you up from work? was that one of the plans you've had to miss because of your mean boss?" his fingers drifted over your aching core and you shifted your hips, desperate for relief from the stinging his ruthless slaps had caused. he responded by applying more pressure as he stroked you over your folds.

"so fucking desperate," he chided, pressing your underwear into your soaked core. "you should hear the way your coworkers speak about you. such a pretty thing, such a tight ass." he was mimicking someone, you couldn't tell who.

you let out a hum, unable to answer as the reality of the situation was still forming in your mind. you just wanted him, you didn't care anymore. you wriggled your hips, backing them into his palm. his free hand slipped onto your hip, pulling your underwear down until they were at your knees. from the corner of your eye, you saw him bend down onto his knees as both of his hands regained their grip on your ass. "please," you whined, pleading for his taunting to be over.

his tongue was hot and wet, licking long stripes and pushing past your folds. the foreign feeling sent you reeling, and you let out a high-pitched moan as you felt your face heat up against his desk. he stood up and leaned over you, his face behind your ear as his fingers found their way to your clit. "obedient little slut," he hissed, his venomous words shooting straight to your core. "you come into my office every day after hours wearing your tight skirts and heels,"

he rubbed your clit in fast, tiny circles making you moan whenever his index finger passed over it with a little too much pressure. "and you wonder why i always keep you back?" he laughed incredulously, you could hear the disbelief in his voice. he stood back up, removing his hand from your soaked pussy. you heard him fiddle with his zipper before pulling his cock out of his slacks. you wished you could see it, you just knew it would be as pretty as he was. he pumped it slowly, looking over you as you squirmed in your powerless position. "can't fucking take it anymore," he sounded desperate. you wondered how long he'd been thinking about this, planning this.

you weren't prepared when you felt his cock press against you, its smooth length coating itself in your arousal. he groaned as he rubbed himself against you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you into him. "tell me to stop," he said, almost begging. you knew how bad this would be for him, for you, for the company, but you couldn't. you needed him.

"i want you," you replied in your softest of voices. "please, sajangnim"

you felt him line himself up behind you before slowly entering you, filling your core as you fluttered around him. you let out an unrestrained moan in tandem, finally feeling a ripple of pleasure wash over you. he didn't ease you into it before pumping himself into you, using a firm grip on your hair as leverage for his merciless thrusts. "fuck," he exclaimed, throwing his head back as he fucked you over the desk, papers and pens falling to the floor. "you're my slut," he panted.

you nodded against the desk, his unrelenting strokes invoking waves of ecstasy every time his cock filled you up. "yours," you agreed mindlessly. "only yours."

he slapped your ass, the pain adding to the spreading pleasure taking over your body. "you'll fuck when i want you to fuck," he spoke through his grunting. "say you'll suck my dick whenever i ask."

you could barely register his words through your moans and the deafening pleasure. "yes, sir, whatever you want." despite your concession, he slapped the side of your thigh. he fucked you, unrelenting and unforgiving like he'd been deprived for years.

he used your tied wrists to pull you flat against his chest as his other hand snaked around your front, rubbing between your folds and stroking your clit as you moaned at the overstimulation. "greedy slut." he spat, sharply impaling you with a powerful thrust that hurt. you felt the tie come loose from your wrists.

you whined, needing him to be satisfied and continue pleasing you like he had been. he pulled out of you, forcefully turning you around and pushing your ass into his desk. for the first time, you saw his crazed expression, lips wet, coated with spit and your essence. his pupils were blown out and his expression was serious, almost furious. if you weren't so turned on, you'd almost be scared.

as he pushed you further onto the desk, you used your palms to keep your balance as he carelessly brought one of your legs up and around his waist. for a brief moment, you eyed his cock- thick and hard. pretty, like you'd expected.

you couldn't look for long before he slotted himself between your legs and entered you again, his eyes trained on your chest as your tits bounced in response to his thrusts. his lips were parted as he fucked into you, cockily driving into you like he knew how good it felt.

moans passed your lips before you could register them, your orgasm building even quicker now that you could actually see what he was doing to you. "lie down." he grunted, pushing you down before you could respond. he lifted your other leg and pulled you closer to the edge of the desk, the tip of his cock pumping your hilt, drawing a pained groan from your throat.

this position was almost too much for you to handle, allowing yoongi to reach deeper inside of you than he had before. or really, deeper than anyone had before. your palms tapped against his arm in desperation as you gasped, ready to reach your orgasm. "please, i'm going to-" you began. he slapped your thigh, cutting you off and breaking your train of thought. he continued rolling his hips into you at a tireless pace, desperate to reach his own end. "such a slut for me, cumming on my cock already?"

you hummed, nodding eagerly at his words. one of your legs fell as he released his hold, his hand finding its way to your pussy to rub soft circles over your clit. you were almost sobbing, the pleasure ripping through you pitilessly. you arched your back as his cock slid in and out of you while the first wave of your orgasm began to crash, wetness spreading down your legs and onto the desk. "yoongi!" you exclaimed as he fucked you through the peak your orgasm, your fingernails digging into his toned arms. your vision began to whiten as you came, unable to think of anything besides how incredible and intoxicating he felt inside you.

the fluttering of your walls and increasing tightness around his cock became too much, and yoongi lowered his gaze to where the two of you met. a thick ring of white had formed at the base of his cock, and it sent him over the edge. he dug his fingernails into the flesh of your thigh as he released a whiny grunt at the realisation. you felt him pulsate inside you, his thrusts becoming unrestrained and rigid as his eyes crammed shut. his grunts became moans as you felt him release inside you, your name falling from his lips in breathy pleas. his thrusts finally slowed as his tip became too sensitive to continue.

he unsheathed himself and tucked his wet cock back into his pants, you could still make out the hard, thick shape underneath. silence filled the room as you began to move, closing your legs and hopping off the desk. yoongi raised an eyebrow and bent down to pull your underwear back up against your pussy. "don't waste a fucking drop." he whispered before winking at you. you straightened out your skirt as you processed his words.

he'd finished inside you.

he rubbed your clothed cunt before standing back up and fixing your collar, as if he was getting ready to send you back off to work. though, you had a feeling he wasn’t done yet. "i'll drop you home." he spoke, turning on his heel to grab his jacket from the couch.

like he hadn't just completely changed everything for you.

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

You Are Changing with TXT

life brings changes, and TXT is unconditionally, lovingly and supportively by your side (fluff)

5 member x reader scenarios in the form of bullet points TRIGGER WARNIG: hinting body dysmorphia, destructive habits, social anxiety, perfectionism, low self-worth wc: ca. 1740

deviders by @cafekitsune

YEONJUN

your body is changing and with that you have to get to know its new form

there are two major things that are affected in your daily life:

one thing is that you have a different capacity of moving through a day, a different sense of how you feel your body

Yeonjun will be by your side when you actively decide to workout, monitoring your capacity and reminding you to do it at your pace, letting you discover how your body currently works.

If you grow frustrated that one exercise is not as easy as it used to be, he reminds you that it is perfectly fine, that with lifestyle, mental and physical changes, you experience changes in almost every realm and that it is not a bad thing, just a natural one.

He motivates you, dries your tears, holds your hand to help you with your balance, but also to prove that you are not alone, that he literally got you.

Besides sports, he gives you an abundance of loving touches, massaging you, caressing you, cuddling you, he wants to make you feel your body comfortably, welcoming you in this world in every singly form you go through in life.

the other thing is how you perceive your vessel

Yeonjun will fund your new wardrobe. Clothes that fit and you feel confident in.

You might be uncomfortable with your current clothes, so he will make sure to not only express that you can take his, he will put a pile of clothes on the bed in the morning, so that you can simply reach out and put fabric with his scent on you.

If it’s a day you especially struggle, he will dress you himself, gently pushing sleeves over your arm and he will add kisses and hugs, letting you rest in his presence, to make sure to remind you of comfort’s existence when you initially cannot find yourself feeling comfortable in your skin.

If you enjoy going shopping by yourself he’ll give you money and lets you buy whatever you want. He will also always let some money in your pocket in case you spontaneously stumble upon a piece of fashion you find gorgeous, so you can get it right away.

If you want to go shopping, but you feel like you cannot handle it by yourself, seeing your unfamiliar reflection in the unflattering light of the changing rooms, he’ll join you and he will be rather picky with what you should get.

He will judge clothes with all of his honesty, keeping a high standard omnipresent, because you deserve the best of the best regarding the financial capacity he can provide.

Quality over quantity.

SOOBIN

you have built some habits that are rather destructive and you want to get rid of them

Soobin will first of all always listen to what you are telling him, quietly sitting next to you and nodding along you animately taking about what’s on your mind.

When it comes to actually working on getting rid of habits, let’s say, trying to not look at your phone first thing in the morning, he will observe you in the beginning without interfering.

Only when you grow frustrated, because you cannot manage to break the habit, he offers help that he only lives by when you accept it.

He’s help you come up with habit replacements, letting you switch off your alarm on your phone and immediately imitates the melody, making you laugh at first, but you join him.

He would ask you to do stuff, just so you can transition between moments without returning to the undesired habit.

In this case, he’ll ask you if you’d make him coffee, knowing that you love the scent of it.

So, slowly, but surely, you build a new routine excluding the tasks you dislikes and Soobin’s celebrating every step on the way to a slightly yet impactful different course of your day that allows you to go to bed more carefreely and at peace.

BEOMGYU

you used to be carefree in social realms, but people hurt you over and over again and even though you thought you would be able to handle it, you learnt that the past will eventually catch on and limit your abilities that you used to see as your irrefutable strong suits

Beomgyu knows you as being talkative and bubbly, joking with people and making them laugh. He watched you speaking to strangers, just because you found them interesting, asking them about what book they were reading and presented your current fav or where they got their jacket from, telling them that it would perfectly fit to your new pants.

He registers you becoming more and more timid, finding you sitting quietly, listening to the people around you and he waited for you to jump in with a horrible pun you would spontaneously come up with just for the joy of it, but you do it less and less.

When you have to prepare for a presentation, he watches you practicing it the same way you used to, but has a message on his phone, asking if he can pick you up, at a time that he expects you to still be in class.

He learns that you are not doing well in talking in front of people anymore and embraces you after the presentation, holding your shaking hands and caressing your palm with his fingers in a rhythm that you can use to match your breathing with.

When people talk over your quiet voice, strength not vocalize your thoughts needing to be build up every time you want to say something, he will speak up to ask you directly what you wanted to say during a break of conversation and even when no opportunity arises in that moment, he will make sure to ask you later on, so that you can tell at least him.

He wants to make sure, you will always have someone who listens to your thought, regardless whether you bring them out all shy and quiet or loud and excited.

At days you really cannot bring yourself to speaking without tearing up, he offers you to write.

Sometimes you put only key-words onto the paper and let him talk about whatever comes to his mind, nodding in agreement or shaking your head in disagreement, to convey your connotation in the most minimalistic way possible.

At other times you write whole essays in your diary and let it open on your bed, a signal for Beomgyu to have concerns to read through your thoughts.

Beomyu will not be less entertained by you. You are still the same funny and exhilarating person you used to be. You just express yourself differently, and that is fine. Outgoing or not outgoing, you are just as valid as always, and the world changes and so do you.

TAEHYUN

you used to be academically high achieving, but now life is not as favorable for being able to focus on studying like you knew it

you struggle with two things:

one is that academic validation used to be your evidence for being smart and without good grades you doubt your own intellect, causing you to feel insecure and stupid

Taehyun will ask you for your expertise often.

Even if you feel like your knowledge is not profound enough, he will assure you that you are valuable regardless of what numbers on paper say.

He asks you a lot about your hobbies, just to listen to you rant about topics in such depths that not only he finds inspiration and knowledge, but you do yourself, having fun with what your brain is capable of instead of only harassing it for productivity.

the other thing is that you used to have high goals that required good grades, but now you find yourself with the unfamiliarity of not envisioning the same future for you anymore and you do not know what do do and where to go, lost the sense of what you actually want

Taehyun loves to daydream with you, just talking about everything and anything, fantasizing about the most unrealistic ideas, because he believes that there is always to an access the making reality similar to fantasy. You only have to return to thinking realistically, adding the valuable pinch of fantasy into your daily life.

That is how he helps you explore yourself.

Besides that, he will take you to new places and into new situations, also familiar places and situations, and lets you evaluate those, looking out for whether you enjoyed it and what specifically, so that you find orientation in what makes you currently happy.

Even if you find yourself discovering something that makes you feel embarrassed, he will react in excitement, infecting you with the curiosity of who you are right now rather than who you used to be and he will love you with every new thing you embody and says goodby to everything you decide to let go with utmost thankfulness.

KAI

you used to make sure to not be an inconvenience for people, but you grew sick of unnecessarily considering everything and everyone around you without considering yourself

Kai likes you being easy-going, but he hates seeing situations not being easy-going for you. You are giving so much with nothing in return, aware that he can not just expect you to get everything without asking for anything.

You might worry that you turn out being too much, too high maintenance if you start claiming requirement, so Kai suggests that you start with verbalizing your wishes and expectation to him more nonchalantly, calling him out for not tidying up after him or directly asking him to get you a pretty rose, you see in a flower shop.

He reminds you that people around you are autonomous individuals and can decline requests or compromise with you when you feel like you might be too harsh and careless.

Kai will comfort you when you are uncomfortable and not able to stick up for yourself, following people’s preferences that do not go against your own but don't align with you as well as they could if you showed initiative, and he lets you rant and be annoyed and embrace the emotions until you realize again that you can take action and protect your well-being and that you deserve to do so.

He proudly watches you becoming more confident and carrying yourself with a better sense of responsibility and respect, and he himself grows, inspired and motivated by you.

comments are highly appreciated 🤗

[fawnduu]

WHUH

THAT'S A LOT OF BONE THAT WAS MISSING???

Where did they get the new bone from?

I hope you're feeling better soon! (if not already!)

YEAH....uh it was definitely not good. The doctor said breaking through the bone to remove the cyst and put in the bone graft was akin to breaking an egg shell.

So, very little pressure was required to break my shoulder, which explains all the random months long shoulder pain i would get after stuff that should not have caused lasting damage.

The bone graft is a synethetic bone graft. I forget the actual name of the stuff the surgeon used but essentially it starts as a powder that they mix and can fill the large cavity without having to remove a ton of bone to access it. It also makes it easy to monitor the healing process/ any cyst reccurance because it will always show up opaque white on the xray.

Im still really tender and sore but the pain is getting better everyday. I have to treat it like a broken bone for the next 2-3 months so no heavy lifting/rotations/impacts but i can now start to use the arm for daily tasks and light lifting and im working on getting the mobility back!

[spicycinnabun]

your little rebel 1/2

@tommykinardweek for brat/brat tamer ♡ rated e ♡ read on ao3 ♡ tags: sex toys, sexting at work, d/s, daddy kink, brat!buck, sugaring (more tags tba for pt. 2)

Tommy had finished performing routine maintenance on his bird and was sitting down for a quick lunch break in the hangar. He was just about to bite into his sandwich—pastrami on rye, nothing fancy—when his phone chimed. He dug it out of the pocket of his jumpsuit.

Tommy’s lips quirked when he saw the notification was from Evan. He had the day off. He’d said he was going to go grocery shopping, hit the gym, and then run a few errands. They were planning on seeing each other that night. 

Evan had a key to Tommy’s place. Though they hadn’t moved in together and still spent time at Evan’s loft, Evan seemed to prefer it at Tommy’s. 

Tommy didn’t mind. More than not minded, actually. It made his chest ache to come home to the lights on, warm homey smells, lively chitter-chatter, and someone who’d missed him and was happy to see him. He was trying not to get too used to it.  

Evan was going to cook dinner: chicken parmesan, a recipe of Bobby’s he’d made his own creative tweaks to. 

“I’m calling it chicken plantmesan. You’ll be amazed at how good it tastes,” he’d told Tommy. “You won’t even be able to tell the difference.”

Tommy had mentioned wanting to cut dairy from his diet for a while to see if it’d help with some bloating, and Evan had said he would do it with him. It was sweet, especially since Tommy knew Evan liked dairy products even more than he did. Evan was the guy who told the waiter to keep going when he came by the table with the cheese grater. 

“Bet it won’t taste as good as you,” Tommy had flirted, pitching his voice low on purpose just to see the blush light up Evan’s cheeks. 

Smiling a bit wider at the memory, Tommy put his sandwich down and opened the text. 

Finished my errands early.

Beneath that was an image. Usually, Evan sent him random pictures. Stupid memes, a photo of a stray cat he’d seen during his jog, his breakfast smoothie, Eddie, the rest of the 118 and their daily hijinks. This wasn’t any of those things. 

Tommy stared, a little dizzy, as all the blood in his upper body immediately rushed south. 

It was his bedroom. The shot was taken from a distance, probably from his dresser. Evan was naked on the bed on all fours, long legs spread wide on the mattress. He was down on his elbows, ass up on full display. He was glancing over his shoulder at the camera, heavy-lidded eyes drowsy with pleasure, lips red like he’d been biting them and parted like he was panting. Evidence of how turned on he was hung heavy and visible between his thighs.

But what really caught Tommy’s gaze was what was sitting snugly inside Evan. The flared base of a toy. It was red. The shape of a heart.

Tommy quickly zoomed out (when had he zoomed in?), saved the image to his photos and then deleted it from their conversation, just in case some busybody snuck up behind him without warning. He'd almost forgotten where he was.

He typed out a message with fingers that shook only slightly, heart pounding, mouth dry.

Evan. You know I’m at work.

Evan had never been so bold as to send him something like that while he was on shift. They’d sent dirty texts before; that was nothing new, but this was. 

Couldn’t wait to show you what I bought. 

Sorry, Daddy ❤️

Tommy’s arm slipped, and like an idiot, he knocked over his steaming hot coffee. “Shit!” 

He grabbed the napkins from his lunch pail and quickly mopped up the mess before it reached his keyboard or monitor. He recovered swiftly when one of the other pilots walking by gave him the stink eye.

“You okay, Kinard?”

Tommy nodded, stone-faced. “Fantastic.”

He squeezed the damp napkins in his fist and took a bite of his sandwich to occupy his mouth and seem normal. He obviously wasn’t thinking about the food anymore.

The pilot shrugged, accepting it.

Tommy’s phone buzzed again. He waited until the pilot was gone before picking it back up. “Christ, he’s going to be the death of me,” he muttered. 

You like it though? It has a remote. Thought you might enjoy controlling it.

And now it was time to get out of plain sight before he completely embarrassed himself. Tommy dropped his garbage in the trashcan and walked briskly to the washroom, locking the door behind himself. He leaned against it and tried to maintain his cool before he replied. But he was starting to sweat.

I was wondering what that charge on my card was, he answered.

He was lying. He hadn’t actually checked his statement, but upon looking now, there was one purchase of $59.74 from Cupid’s Closet. 

It had taken some cajoling for Evan to let Tommy buy things for him—little treats, clothes he wanted, toys—especially since he’d been a bit pushy about Evan paying for things at the start of their relationship—but eventually, Evan had given in. He’d even started buying for himself without needing to ask. Evan acted like he didn't deserve any of it, of course, that he didn't need any of it, but Tommy could tell the attention was doing it for him.

Tommy never thought it’d be his thing, but he loved sugaring Evan. It felt nice. Cliché, sure—the whole ‘go ahead, baby, go wild with Daddy’s credit card’ thing—but who cared? Turned out it gave them both joy. Tommy liked spoiling him. Marie Kondo would be proud of Tommy for not throwing that shit away.

Haha, yeah

Tommy could hear the faltering, uncertain gears turning in Evan’s head, so he quickly sent another message. 

I love it. Pretty. Keep it in. But you know the rules, honey. Hands off. Wait for me.

The bubbles started and then stopped. Started and then stopped again. 

I’ll try to…

Evan.

Fine. But you better make it worth my while. 

Tommy smirked. What a brat. 

Keep talking like that, and I’ll leave you all on your lonesome tonight.

This time, Tommy received a selfie of Evan’s exaggerated pout. His cheeks were flushed strawberry pink, his blond curls looking soft and tousled against one of Tommy’s dark green pillows. 

Mean.

Oh, Evan had no idea how mean Tommy was capable of being. 

You have to behave if you want my attention.

Evan’s reply was lightning-fast. Smug.

That’s not how I remember it.

Tommy chuckled as he thought of what had gotten them to this point. Touché.

And I already said I will! Evan continued. …But it feels kind of amazing. 

Tommy sighed, wishing he was home already. 

I bet it does.

♡

A little while later, Tommy received a new text. He made another escape to the washroom with the excuse that he’d drunk too much coffee, feeling like a teenager and not almost forty as he hid from his crew.

This time, it was only a photo of Evan’s naked torso. A close-up of his abs and pecs in all their glory, painted with streaks of translucent white that dripped down muscled valleys. He’d come all over himself. 

All the accompanying text said was Oops.

Tommy exhaled a noisy breath. “Do not get hard at work, jackass.” 

Honestly, he never thought he’d have to scold himself regarding that. 

Tommy put his phone on the edge of the sink, turning on the taps to give his face a quick splash of water. He wiped off with a paper towel, willing his body to cooperate and calm before he texted back.

Guess you don’t need me now, huh, hotshot? I was going to have fun playing with you, but maybe I’ll catch the game on TV instead.

Evan's bubbles started bubbling. They seemed to be moving wilder than usual, somehow. 

It's not like I can’t get it up again. I’m not an old man like someone I know.

Tommy’s brows rose sharply. He almost barked a laugh, but that was just what he needed: people outside thinking he’d lost his fucking marbles. 

There was silence for a few more moments and then a series of dings, each coming quicker than the last. 

Wait

I didn’t really mean it about the old thing

I want to be with you tonight

And your refractory period is remarkable for a man your age!

Tommy snorted. 

Wow, thanks.

I was thinking about you the entire time and how sexy you are and what I want you to do to me when you get here. I just couldn’t control myself.

Next time, I promise I won’t come until you're here and you say so.

Tommy? 

Tommy grinned to himself. He needed to make Evan sweat for a bit. It was all part of the game.

Tommy knew it. He’d played it before with other men, but…

None of them had excited him like this. Not at this level. Not like Evan did. Evan was a little (well, big, muscular, and adorable) firecracker. He was impulsive, curious as hell, and wanted to dive headfirst into all sorts of new situations. He was exploring his kinks and surprising them both with what he was learning he liked. 

Tommy was learning a few things, too. Funny because he thought he’d figured out all there was to know about himself years ago. He guessed even old dogs could learn new tricks.

Evan let Tommy drive and followed every safety precaution—for the most part. Sometimes, he tried to push too hard, too fast. Sometimes, he tried hiding his discomfort to gain Tommy’s approval and wouldn’t yellow or red light. That people pleasing, low self-worth, and fear of rejection clear as day in his every action.

They’d learned that bratting was a tangible way to break out of that mindset, at least a little. Something Evan had never let himself do. Stop trying to be good all the time. A cathartic release to say no, go against the rules, be bad, and take what he wanted. In a healthier way than maiming his best friend, of course.

But Tommy didn’t push too far in his punishments. There was only so much Evan could handle. Tommy was careful with his limits.

And… well, he felt too much goddamn affection for the kid to be as cold as he had been with previous partners. That side of him just wasn’t meant for Evan.

You’re still in trouble. 

Tommy let that sit for a minute before sending a final message.

I’ll be home soon, sweetheart. You can make it up to me.

He chuckled at the litany of heart emojis he received approximately five seconds later. Oh, cute.

[tac-the-unseen]

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson Sfw alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s actually pretty affectionate. Any chance he has to hold your hand or kiss you, he takes it, including missions. He’s told you he takes just a little bit of time to love you because ‘I’ll never know when our time has come.’ He wants the last memory you have of him to be a loving one, and he wants his last to be spent thinking about his unending love for you.

And don’t think for a second that because he can’t talk he won't praise you. He leaves you notes or texts that tell you just how much he really loves you. He puts sticky notes on all the doors he knows you'll walk through. Every mirror, the fridge, your desk, computer monitor, windows, everywhere he knows you'll see them.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You two got close to each other while on a long mission. It was hard not too, Saving each other's lives on the daily can really bring people together. You ate every meal together, watched out for each other, took your time to understand what he wanted to say. You were able to build trust in each other fairly quickly because of this. By the time the mission ended it felt like you two had known each other forever. You were able to slip into a routine with him fast, becoming the first and last person you spoke to every day. It wasn't long before Gary started to catch feelings for you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He likes cuddling, He doesn’t love it but he likes how it easily communicates his love for you. It's simple, but when you're with a guy that can’t speak, every little thing he does is noticeable and a declaration of his affection. The reason he doesn't like it too much is that even though he is normally cool as a cucumber, he can get overwhelmed pretty fast. He tries to let you know it’s not your fault, but it's hard to communicate that when he's overwhelmed. So even though he loves giving you physical attention he might pull away from this kind.

Sleeping is the exception to this, He always cuddles you at night. When it comes to cuddling positions he loves to hold you and wrap his whole body around you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yes and No. He loves you, but he also loves his job. He loves the thrill and adventure and doesn’t want to give that up. He’ll buy you a house, he’ll live with you, but he will yearn for adventure. If at some point he’s on leave or simply allowed to go home he’ll take a break for like, a week. But after that he’s planning hikes, camping trips, rock climbing, stuff like that.

He's an okay cook, he's great on the grill though (His steaks are to die for).

He can clean, the military is really strict about cleanliness. If you need something cleaned up or otherwise taken care of, just point and he's on it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He breaks up with you face to face. He makes a list of the reasons why it wouldn't work. He makes it gentle and softly gives you the news. He feels bad about the break up and because he's awkward gives you a 50 dollar gift card to your favorite store or restaurant.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He is willing to commit to you, but he will take his time to make sure you're the right one. He might be fast in a relationship but when it comes to marriage he takes his time.

When he’s sure he wants to marry you, he will plan everything out meticulously. He will secretly get your ring size, figure out what kind of ring you want, and what your dream proposal is. If you don't have a dream proposal he will combine his own dream and the things you like.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Gary’s soft with you. He opens up to you and lets you open up to him. He’ll use sign language or notes to tell you about his past and feelings. He tells you about what he wants to do with his life or what he wishes to do with you.

When it comes to physicality he's still soft with you. He loves to hold you and softly touch you. Gary loves to hold your hand and hug you from behind. It's the easiest way to communicate his love for you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs but tries to make sure he touches you in appropriate times. It's hard to find the right times when you're fighting for your life all the time. When you get back to base or back to home, He's all over you. It's these times when he's okay with cuddling and prolonged touching.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

When teaching you to sign he left out how to sign ‘i love you’ because he didn’t want it to feel like he was forcing you to say it or that he was love bombing you. He was secretly signing ‘I love you’ but you didn’t have to know that. you aren't fluent in sign so it's not like you noticed.

He was being sent on a mission where he wouldn’t have any contact with you for several months. You two were outside while other soldiers entered the awaiting helicopters. He was in all his gear, mask up, and an ACR strapped on his back. After you had signed your goodbyes and he was at the entrance of the helicopter, He turned around and signed “I love you so much”. He didn’t expect anything to happen after as normally nothing did. Until you signed back ‘Love you more.’

In truth he hasn’t stopped thinking about that day.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

If put on a scale it would be 6/10. He's not insanely jealous, but he can't help the pit in his chest he feels when you're talking to another guy. He can play nice and not get deep into it, but as soon as the guy starts flirting, his nice act is out the window.

A fellow soldier decided to make a sudden and not at all anticipated comment on your ass…while Gary was in ear shot. It took Gary all of 3 seconds to send the guy flying and knock him on his ass. Gary was reprimanded as the soldier lost 4 of his teeth in that fight, Oh and the broken collarbone didn’t help either.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

This is the one part of the relationship (besides Marriage) that took the longest to happen. This is because it involved taking his mask off.

Once he was comfortable with you and the idea of seeing his face, he'd let the mask go and kiss you. It was actually the first thing he did when he took off his mask.

You two were in his room, sitting on his bed, you two had a long talk about his face and trust. After this Gary removed his mask and eye gear and held your hand. He took a breath then kissed you softly and passionately. It was a Huge milestone in your relationship.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Gary is okay around kids, He can handle them for bits at a time, but kids don't seem to like him that much. Kids don’t like the silence, it unnerves the little ones. But he's kind and careful and has told you that if you want kids he'll do better with them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He just wants to hold you a little longer, To spend these gentle moments with you for as long as he can. He's the one telling you to come back to bed, pulling you back into bed and into his arms. He makes grumbles and noises of pleasure when you slither back into his arms. He may not be able to Tell you he loves you, but the kisses, noises, and cuddles speak for themselves.

Once he's out of bed and stepping into the day, He’ll get into his chores and start cleaning up from the night before and help you in your morning routine. Once he's done cleaning up and you're cooking breakfast you better believe he's hugging you from behind.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Gary has a tough time going to bed. You have to convince him to come to bed and get some sleep. You can get him to bed by reminding him of the warm mornings or promises of intimacy.

He will slowly do his nightly routine to prolong the inevitable. He'll take his time cleaning up, showering, brushing his teeth, a little bit of skin care, then begrudgingly climbing in bed. His apprehension is swiftly thrown out the window once he is in your arms and in a warm bed.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It depends on what he's opening up about. Because He primarily uses sign language and writing to talk to you he can easily edit but for the most part he's pretty open with you. However there are something he would never tell you, no matter how close you guys are.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He is even tempered most of the time, He rarely gets angry outside of the battlefield. When he does get angry it's not at you and is never taken out on you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Gary remembers the little things, he’s hooked on every word you say. He writes what he thinks is important down. If you like to talk, well great, he likes to listen.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

You had found a box of kittens while on a mission. You had taken and hidden them from your teammates and captain. Gary found out about this when one night he caught back at base cooing of a blanket that meowed back.

You had explained yourself and told him you just wanted them to be safe and you were trying to find them a home. He kept the secret and helped you care for the kittens. You made the kitten get a good home and occasionally get updates about them. He loved seeing you in a Domestic light and liked feeling like a parent even if it was only for a few days.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's on guard all the time, He is a war criminal. He can be a silly little guy then into a serious scary soldier.

Physically: He will defend you till his last breath. He will do everything he can to make sure you're safe.

Emotionally/Mentally: He will make sure he's always there for you to lean on. His soft, loving personality gets even more soft and loving. He makes sure to free up time just to check on you and hold you.

When it comes to his safety, just knowing you care is enough for him to feel better.

Physically: He would rather die than have you put yourself in danger to save him. But if you do, he will enterally appreciate you and your love for him.

Emotionally/Mentally: He doesn’t like asking for help but when he does, it should be taken very seriously. Sometimes he just needs someone that nods while he signs away at what's troubling him. Other times he just needs to have someone to hold onto.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Depends on why you're having a date night. Obviously he’s not going to pull out all the stops for a casual date night but he's not doing the bare minimum either.

He puts in the appropriate amount of effect for your dates and makes sure it's something you'll enjoy.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a habit of sneaking food. The military trains soldiers to simply inhale the small portion of food given to them. Even though there is extra food he waits until he thinks no one is looking to ‘steal’ another piece. Everyone knows, no one says a word.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

The mask is really just to keep his identity safe. Even though it takes him a while to take it off, that's mostly to make sure he can really trust you. He is not too concerned with his looks but that doesn’t mean he has no concern about his looks.

Gary never really thought to care about anyone's opinion, but that changed fast when he developed feelings for you. He can and will clean up if you ask him to.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

It's a slow burn when it comes to this deep level of attachment. At first you were just this really cool friend, then best friends, then partners. You fell deeper and deeper into his heart before you became the center of it.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He communicates mostly through sign language, which he made sure to teach you. He took you step by step, getting you to understand how the language is ACTUALLY structured. He loved watching you try and figure out what he said and how to respond.

Outside of work, Roach has a couple deaf friends that he take on hikes and fishing trips.

If you ever get married, Ghost is his best man.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone unwilling to learn sign. Its his main way of communicating and its frustrating to write down everything he wants to say all the time.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He has to be practically dragged to bed if you want him to sleep.

The best way to get him to bed is too softly play his favorite music, lay down, and give him puppy dog eyes.

What is he going to do? Say no to you and that pretty look on your face? Absolutely not, he's flying into that bed.

Thanks for reading <3

[memoriesndew]

intro to notion goal tracker ♡.°୭̥ ୨

setting goals is a powerful way to achieve your dreams, but the journey from vision to reality can often be challenging. whether you're striving for personal growth, career advancement, or mastering new skills, having a structured approach can make all the difference.

that’s where this "notion goal tracker" comes in. this comprehensive tool not only helps you map out your goals but also keeps you motivated and on track every step of the way.

what's included:

goal tracker database: at the heart of the template is the *goal tracker*, a feature designed to help you plan, track, and manage your goals. you can divide each goal by areas such as fitness and health or academic. whether it’s daily habits or long-term objectives, this tracker keeps you organized and focused, ensuring that every task brings you closer to your dreams.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:* motivation ; staying motivated is key to achieving any goal, and thisntemplate makes it easier with a page dedicated to motivation, and commitment letters that outlines your dedication and reasons for pursuing your goals. this letter serves as a personal contract that you can revisit whenever you need a boost.

additionally, you can link your goals to a *vision board*. this visual representation of your dreams keeps you inspired, reminding you of the bigger picture whenever you need a reminder of why you started.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:* goal tasks: simplifying the process

to make your goals more manageable, the template includes a *goal tasks* section. here, you can list out the specific tasks and milestones required to achieve each goal. by breaking down your goals into smaller, actionable steps, you can avoid feeling overwhelmed and maintain steady progress. this simple yet effective task list ensures that no detail is overlooked, with this you can break down each goal into actionable steps, assign deadlines, and monitor progress.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:* statistics: celebrating your progress

tracking your progress is just as important as setting goals. the *statistics* feature allows you to monitor your achievements over time, giving you a clear view of how far you've come. this section tracks your goals by year.

and more

Why Use This Template?

this notion goal tracker template is more than just a to-do list. It’s a complete system designed to help you achieve your goals with clarity, motivation, and organization. by combining task tracking, motivational tools, and progress monitoring, this template ensures that you stay on course and reach your aspirations.

so, if you're ready to take your goal-setting to the next level, download the Notion Goal Tracker Template today and start transforming your dreams into reality.

[tropes-and-tales]

Obsession

Day 6  Voyeurism (Dave York x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Dave is creepy; voyeurism; smut (PiV, protected; between reader character and not-Dave); 18+ only.

Word Count:  2023

AN:  This was requested by the lovely @chemicalalice

It’s a feature of Dave York’s new neighborhood, how close the houses are to each other. 

His new neighborhood, rather:  after his divorce from Carol, his now ex-wife kept the house, so Dave took the opportunity to embrace a new beginning.  He moved from his McMansion in its suburban purgatory into a part of the city where the housing is more varied, closer together.

He buys a small Craftsman-style house, and he makes it his.  He settles into his new life.  Dave York’s Second Act.

He finds his rhythm.  Work, then home.  His daily run through the neighborhood.  His evenings with a scotch, unwinding on his couch in bad weather or on his back porch in good weather.  He has next to no back yard, but he can see where the original plat used to lie:  his house’s original carriage house had been subdivided into its own plot, and the former carriage house was converted at some point to a single family home.

Owned by you.  Occupied by you.

Dave noted you the day he moved in.  He noted all of his neighbors, everyone on his street.  He did surface-level searches on everyone—a hazard of his job, his perpetual distrust of everyone—but he dug a little deeper on you.

It’s been months now.  Dave and you are on polite terms.  You wave hello, call out “good morning” when he’s stretching for his run and you’re walking your dog.  Sometimes your mail gets switched because of the off-kilter numbering on your street.  That’s the extent of it, though.

Dave wonders how you’d react to everything he’s dug up on you.  There’s the obvious stuff, the wide-open social media profiles that give him a good idea of the type of woman you are.  There’s the professional website that shows your work history, your education.  Easy stuff that anyone could find.

But then there’s the stuff no one should be able to find.  The stuff that would probably horrify you, infuriate you, if you ever found out that Dave went spelunking for it.  He’s horrified, a little, at himself, but you’ve become something of a hobby to him.  An interesting puzzle to piece together.  Is it boredom, the long quiet nights without the noise of his family?  Post-divorce rebounding?  Stress relief from his job?  Who can say?

It’s a slippery slope from interested to obsessed.

It’s appallingly easy to hack your computer.  It’s easy to pick your front door lock while you’re at work and your dog is at doggy day care.  Easy to slip a monitoring program on your laptop, and since you have everything saved on the cloud, Dave has the bonus access to your phone as well.

It’s an obsession.  It’s all-consuming.  It’s a constant feedback loop of call and response:  Dave thinks of you, has the image of your float in his mind’s eye.  A moment later, he taps on his phone or laptop, pulls up his spyware, and can see what you’re doing.

Sometimes, you’re not using your phone at all.  Or your laptop.  Sometimes you must be otherwise engaged:  driving or eating a meal, or drinking with friends or walking your dog.  Those moments make Dave feel unsettled, irritated that you’re out of his sight, like the sun slipping behind a cloud and casting the earth in darkness. 

Then the delayed gratification when you’re back, the sun breaking through the clouds again.  You unlock your phone to log your meal—you track your food.  You unlock your phone and pull up a playlist, and he can picture you humming along to ‘90’s alternative or ‘80’s New Wave or old hair bands. 

You unlock your phone and read smutty stories on a website, and Dave reads along with you, sees the kinks you gravitate towards, and he thinks, “oh, you filthy little girl, the things I’d do to you.”

When your phone activity goes idle right afterwards, he can guess why. 

It doesn’t take a genius to see why his obsession grows.  Just a bit of boredom before, a way to pass time until Dave’s Second Act could really get going, yet now he thinks of little else, wants little else. 

His rhythm:  work, then home.  His daily run through the neighborhood.  His evenings with a scotch, unwinding on his couch in bad weather or on his back porch in good weather, the ghost of you beside him, behind him, in his head, hijacking every thought.  The real you, the flesh and blood you, so fucking close—mere yards away, if he’s on his back porch—but you may as well be on Jupiter.

You unlock your phone.  You open the dating app that is really just a hook-up app.  Dave watches on his own phone as you swipe left, swipe right, send opening salvos to men younger than him, but not by much.  He watches those men fumble, fail.  He sees the dick pics that come through, pathetic shots of ungroomed dicks with dirty laundry, unmade beds in the background.  He sees how politely you brush them off, how you return to the search and adjust the age brackets and the distance to cast a wider net.

Dave goes to bed that night and seethes at how unsure he finds himself.  He should make a move.  He should leave you alone. 

If he makes a move, he’ll definitely come on too strong.  His obsession will spill out and scald you with its intensity; he’ll scare you with how much he wants you already, how much he wants to own every part of you.  And Dave is like a wolf:  if you’re scared and run from him, he will want to chase you.

If he leaves you alone, though, will his obsession ever die off?  Will it wilt, then exhale quietly as it dies? 

-----

You unlock your phone.  You have a match on your hook-up app, and you and this guy—this Eric—text.  You make plans.

Dave watches from his darkened living room as you leave your carriage house.  Dress, heels, makeup.  Hair done up nice.

He seethes.  Your phone has little activity for most of the night.�� Unlocked a few times, and photos of your dog pulled up.  You must be showing Nice Guy Eric pics of your dog.

Does Eric pay for your meal, or does he make you split the bill?  Does he lay his hand on your lower back, tantalizingly close to the swell of your perky ass?  Does he chance a look down your dress; does he lean in close to take in the scent of your soap, your perfume, your pheromones sparking at the male attention?

In the hours when you’re gone, Dave lays out an infinite number of possibilities.  Scenarios where Nice Guy Eric isn’t nice at all, and for some unknown reason you call Dave.  Dave York to the rescue.  Dave York scooping you into his arms, and when his obsession spills over, it doesn’t scald you at all because in this scenario, you’ve been obsessing over him too.

Stupid shit.  It’s stupid.  Dave is a grown man; he has a job and a mortgage and an ex-wife and children, for fuck’s sake, but he’s here mooning like a teenaged girl daydreaming over a boy band…

You unlock your phone.  You order a car.  Dave tracks the route from the city center as it gets closer to his home (your home), but when you climb out of the car, you aren’t alone.

Nice Guy Eric is with you.  He’s on your heels, his hands on your hips as you fumble with your keys, as you giggle when you try to unlock your door.  Nice Guy Eric spins you around, presses you against the door, kisses you.  Dave watches from the darkness of his living room, rages to see your hands as they settle on the back of Nice Guy Eric’s neck, on his waist as you kiss him back, then lead him inside your small home.

Dave cannot stop his feet from carrying him outside.  He leaves his porch light off, lurks in the darkness, and he knows exactly how it looks.  He knows exactly what it is.  It’s creepy, it’s borderline illegal, but he cannot stop himself.

His back porch overlooks your bedroom, and though you’ve drawn your blinds, they aren’t drawn tight.  Dave on his porch looking down into your room, and he can see you and Nice Guy Eric.  He watches as you and he spend long minutes on your bed, stretched out and making out, and Dave wishes it were his hands on you instead of this fucking idiot, because he’s touching you all wrong.  He’s groping you, there’s no finesse, and you deserve someone who knows what the hell he’s doing.

Dave doesn’t know where the wellspring of his anger comes from at this moment.  Is he furious because there’s another man in your bed, kissing you, fucking you?  Or is he furious because Nice Guy Eric is not making it good for you at all?

Because Nice Guy Eric is an idiot.  He spends no time seducing you.  He doesn’t sit back and admire you:  that amazing ass, those tits, all wrapped up in the prettiest pink lingerie Dave’s ever seen.  Nice Guy Eric doesn’t ease you out of it; he doesn’t push you back against a bank of pillows to put his mouth and tongue to you.  Nice Guy Eric has this opportunity to taste you, to tease you with his tongue and fingers, but he doesn’t take it.

His only foreplay is the making out, and then he’s rolling a condom onto himself, climbing on top of you.  It’s a paltry four, five pumps before he’s shuddering and then collapsing on top of you.

The asshole doesn’t even cuddle with you more than thirty seconds.  Nice Guy Eric may be nice in other ways, but he’s a selfish lover, and even Dave can see the blatant disappointment on your face as you see your date off.

-----

You unlock your phone.  You pull up your hook-up app.  Back to the drawing board, Dave guesses.

Dave is ready now.  He knows your parameters, and he’s tailored his profile to fall within it.  He’s paid the paltry amount to be featured—he already has a slew of matches, but there’s only one he wants.

He needs you to make the first move.  In whatever twisted logic is ruling this game of his, he needs you to make the opening gambit, to invite him in.

You scroll through your matches.  Dave watches in real time on his own phone, and he sees when you find him:  he pictures your thumb hovering over his profile, because you swipe neither right nor left for a long stretch.

You obviously recognize him.  You scroll through his profile, and Dave has been honest here.  No sense in lying, because you’ve probably seen the girls when they come over for their every-other-weekend visits.  No sense in pretending he’s not on his second act.

You scroll through the photos he’s uploaded, a few nice ones and one where he’s shirtless—an outdoors shot from when he ran a half-marathon last year, then shed his shirt afterwards, and he hopes you like his build, that you like the scatter of chest hair and the way his skin glows from the exercise and the sweat and the sun.

When you finally swipe right, Dave nods to himself, then smiles. 

*****

Your phone chimes, and you unlock it.  It’s a message on the dating app, and you send up a silent prayer that it’s not another dick pic.

Prayer answered:  it’s not a dick pic.  It’s a text message from the guy who lives in the house that’s at a weird angle to your house.  The runner who sometimes gets your mail.  He’s cute, so when he popped up in your possible matches, you matched with him and thought, “why not?  What’s the worst that can happen?”

His message asks if you’d like to grab dinner or drinks sometime.  “No pressure,” he’s typed out.  “I’d just like to get to know you better.”

[murdertableaux]

“I think my clothes have shrunk,” Will complains as he fidgets in his chair, looking uncomfortable. He’s just sat down for breakfast, fresh from his daily morning surf, showered and dressed in clean clothes. His curls are still damp, small droplets of water dotting his shoulders. When he looks up at Hannibal, his eyes are a startling blue in his tanned face, eyelashes almost blonde from constant exposure to the sun. “I can barely fit into any of them,” he adds, before stuffing his mouth full of the Truffled Eggs Benedict with Crispy Prosciutto that Hannibal had prepared for him.

He glances at Will’s shirt— it’s bursting at the seams, the fabric stretched thin across the sinews of his chest and shoulders, struggling to contain them. The poor little buttons are strained to breaking point. Hannibal has to sit down to conceal the sudden erection tenting his trousers. His blood is rushing southward so fast, he feels a bit faint.

“Hmm, perhaps I used the wrong settings in the washing machine,” Hannibal replies, aiming for nonchalance. He did no such thing. Will has been filling out with much-needed fat and muscle since they settled in this house a few months ago. In the beginning, he was just regaining the body mass he’d lost as a result of his injuries and the long boat journey here. But, now that Will is free from chronic stress, has a solid sleep schedule, regular meals, and daily sexual release— all of the above facilitated by Hannibal— his body has continued to expand and has now surpassed his previous frame.

When Hannibal bought his new wardrobe, he had accounted for Will’s weight recovery, and had ensured all the items were a size larger. However, he had failed to divine that Will would find a new outlet and passion in surfing or how much muscle he would pack as a result of practicing every morning.

While Will retains a lean and lithe figure, his chest and shoulders are now visibly broader, with defined arms and a sculpted torso that tapers down to an irresistible narrow waist. His thighs are toned from hours spent crouching and balancing on his surfing board. Perched upon those powerful legs, is an ass that would make the gods weep with desire— firm, luscious and with just the right amount of jiggle. It drives Hannibal to distraction. He’s spent many a happy evening with his faced buried in those cheeks.

Hannibal has, of course, been monitoring and recording every change in Will’s physique in painstaking detail, with his drawings (as well as his hands and tongue). But seeing the evidence of the excellent care he takes of Will displayed before him, in the way that those clothes cling and stretch around his body… Hannibal has to bite his lip hard to repress the rumble of satisfaction that wants to escape his chest.

Will is going to need an entire new wardrobe. Hannibal doesn't mind. He would buy him a hundred new wardrobes. He’d dress him up in the best finery money can buy, only to rip it off him afterward.

Will continues devouring with gusto the food Hannibal has cooked for him. Surfing always opens his appetite. Hannibal watches enraptured as he chews and swallows each bite, listening to the small noises of delight Will makes as the flavors Hannibal crafted for him unfold in his mouth. He considers himself responsible for every single ounce of weight Will has put on. The mere thought makes him impossibly harder. Each time Will’s Adam’s apple moves as he swallows around a mouthful, Hannibal leaks into his underwear. He visualises the part of his body that food will go on to nourish. After a while, Will looks up and notices Hannibal staring at him, biting his lip instead of consuming his own food.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his mouth full.

“Nothing,” Hannibal replies and makes a feeble attempt at eating, but with all the blood in his body busy supporting his erection, his stomach is not receptive of nourishment. He goes back to staring at those struggling buttons.

Is Will naive enough to believe his clothes have shrunk? It’s hard to tell. Will, who’s so perceptive in most areas, can be blissfully unaware in others—like his own beguiling beauty, for instance. Has he not noticed how much stronger and healthier he has become? Or is he just teasing Hannibal? Will knows he holds power over Hannibal and often uses it to his advantage, but Hannibal’s not sure if he realizes the full extent of it. Perhaps it’s better that he doesn't.

Hannibal has only just noticed that he can see his nipples poking through the tight fabric. Will has such pretty nipples—sweet, pink nubs, that never fail to perk up under his tongue…

“What’s up with you?” Will asks again, startling Hannibal out of his nipple reverie. There’s suspicion in his tone. Hannibal shakes his head and goes back to his plate. Will’s body shifts in his chair, and suddenly there’s a bare foot creeping up Hannibal’s thigh. He gasps in surprise and drops his fork. The clever foot follows his adductor muscle until it lands on his groin, where it comes into contact with the damning evidence.

“I knew it! You're hard,” Will says, triumph in his voice. “I could tell by the shine in your eyes, you always get that glazed look when you’re hard,” he gloats. He then rubs his foot up and down Hannibal’s length, getting a good feel for the stiff flesh under his sole. His toes catch on the tip of Hannibal's prick, the ball of his foot massaging the shaft. Hannibal can’t help the whimper that escapes him, nor the way his hips lift on their own accord to press against the arch of that food. “Jesus, you are hard as a rock,” he adds, sounding a little breathless himself. “What’s gotten into you?”

Hannibal, too lost enjoying the tortuous sensations, doesn't reply. “Tell me,” Will orders, stopping the stimulation and lifting his foot. “Is it watching me eat? Is that it? Does that turn you on now?” He observes Hannibal through narrowed eyes. “Oh… I know. It’s the shrunken shirt, isn’t it?” Hannibal has the grace to blush.

He grabs Will’s foot and presses it back against his hard prick. “It’s both,” he growls through clenched teeth, “and that shirt hasn’t shrunk, Will. You’ve put on weight.” Hannibal grinds against the foot, shameless. The friction is making all his synapses fire at the same time, but it’s not enough— he needs more.

Will's eyes widen in sudden understanding. “I see… What turns you on is that I’ve put on weight because of the food you’ve been feeding me,” and then he snorts with laughter. “Hannibal, you such a pervert.”

Perhaps he is, Hannibal couldn't care less at this precise moment.

“Christ, you're so worked up already. Look at you… already dripping all over yourself, aren’t you?” and he increases the pressure and tempo of his foot. Will derives a great deal of pleasure in seeing Hannibal hard and desperate for him. “Do you wanna fuck me? I bet you’re gagging for it”

“Yes…,” what else can he say? Hannibal looks at Will with pleading eyes, “Yes, let me fuck you, please.”

🍖Continue reading over at Ao3 ���

✨Please feel free to share and reblog!

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮. | Homesick

He's not sure what's worse- the fact that he now knows what's wrong, or the fact that he now knows he can't do anything to help you.

Tags/Warnings: Spin off, Doctor!Yoongi, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of hospitals, Mentions of a coma, major angst, slight fluff?, a lot of hurt, it's your daily dose of angst you masochists

Length: Drabble

There is no taglist for this fic

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

There's not much Yoongi truly regrets. After all, he's a firm believer that even the bad things in life happen for a reason- it's all somewhat connected. It all leads you to the next step in life.

But if that's the case, then why did the world gift him you, just to have you taken away like this?

He knows it's only a matter of time until your body gives up. It's already happening, after all- your breathing has become less regulated, blood pressure steadily declining. He knows it's unrealistic to think that you'll forever stay in this state. You won't.

Even if you wake up now, you won't be the same. You'll probably have to fight the aftereffects and impact on your brain for months if not years. And that's a very optimistic prognosis.

The more realistic one would be to assume that you'll be a case of permanent full on care. If you ever wake up.

He dreads the question soon to be asked. What does he want to do?

Can he let you go?

In times like these, when being at home makes him homesick to the point of nausea, he tends to visit you, no matter how late. It's how he finds himself at your bedside again, steady tune of your bpm monitor reassuring him that for now, you're still here.

No matter how much of you.

Watching you sleep like this makes it hard to really comprehend that there's not much to do here at all. There's nothing he can do to help you recover because, at the end of the day, the diagnosis is still being studied.

He can't help. He can only hope.

Holding your hand has begun to feel odd now. Like a tune not played quite right, it feels off to just cling to your body like this, when your soul might've very well already left you long ago. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do.." he mumbles to himself, mostly.

Or maybe he's just at the end of his hope.

Maybe he's the one losing this battle now.

"I know I have to let you go, but I don't want to." He shakes his head. "I didn't even get to experience anything with you." He sighs to himself. "Fuck.." the doctor wipes his face with his free hand.

He sighs again, and gets up to leave-

But your fingers cling to his own, holding a lot more tightly than usual. Maybe a simple muscle memory response- nothing to be excited about. He's learned to keep those feelings in check by now, after having been disappointed time and time again.

So he gently pulls your fingers away from his hand.

And you.. whine?

Your bpm is rising a little, machine complaining with a chime about the change in tempo, and he looks at you a bit more focused, noticing the way your breathing doesn't seem as calm as it usually is.

"No, you're not-!" He curses, turning the lights of the room back on. "You're not fucking taking her from me yet-!" He argues to no one.

When your fingers wrap around his wrist where his hand is pushing down on the hospital bed to gain better leverage to look at your monitor.

"No way.." he breathes out, leaning closer to you as he watches the tears run down your cheeks. It's not new that you're able to cry- you've randomly done that in the past, but during post comatose wakefulness, that's not unusual.

But he hopes. He wants to hope.

"Do you want me to stay?" He asks. "Is that it? Come on, you know how it works, give me an answer-" he begs in a whispered tone,

But nothing happens.

"God dammit what am I supposed to do?!" He breaks down, falling back into the chair next to your bed, finally breaking as he cries into the sheets.

And your hand is suddenly moving around again, as if searching for something, before it settles in his hair, on his head.

And as he lifts it to look at you, your eyes are open. But not just open- because that's what they've done for weeks now, time and time again, hurting him with every empty gaze.

Because this time, albeit a bit tearful-

They're not just open.

They're looking at him.

You're looking at him.

You're back.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅