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#haven't posted any builds for a while
kazroze · 1 year
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zenview apartment details
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madam montalogera, an eccentric milfy goliath who runs her own cosmetics/fashion company (nevata: finery and maquillage)
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acgames · 2 months
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Shay's dumbass dive is one of the funniest things to happen in my playthroughs, but nothing can beat AC:Brotherhood and Ezio's epic fly to space... 🤣
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sysig · 5 months
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Your Weekly TV Guide
On Monday you can expect:
2:30 PM: Fandom mix (Deltarune/Adventure Time)
And Tuesday:
2:30 PM: Adventure Time - Winterkov
Wednesday:
2:30 PM: AT - Winterkov +4:20 PM: Speed draw video!
Thursday:
2:30 PM: Patreon Promo
Friday:
2:30 PM: AT - Winterkov
Saturday:
2:30 PM: AT - Simon
Sunday:
2:30 PM: Star Control II - Helix
Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)
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not to be a smug asshole but its kind of rich how if you say you dont like a thing on the internet everyone who likes that thing automatically assumes you just “don’t get it” and tries to explain to you why the thing is Good, Actually. like maybe i already understand why people like the thing. maybe i have reasons to not like the thing that YOU are refusing to entertain. maybe i used to like the thing because of the specific reasons that you’re writing essays to me about. but then i realized that the thing sucks shit and the reasons why people like it isn’t enough to make it good for me again. maybe my dislike of the thing isn’t because im a stupid idiot who couldn’t put two thoughts together to realize why the thing is good. and maybe i feel belittled and dare i say offended when 12 people condescendingly explain to me why it’s okay that i don’t like the thing, but also refuse to stop explaining the same 2 reasons why THEY like the thing, or even let me defend why i dislike the thing, until i agree with them that the thing is good. all because i dared to express mild disdain on the internet
#shut up pandora#i don't care if people like things i dislike and tell me so but some of yall act like proselytizing christians about it#a while ago i had someone write an essay on a post talking about why a ship i dont like is totally canon guys theyre totally in love#and the ship in questions has not had any conversations in 10 episodes which was why i disliked it#but the argument for it boiled down to 'why does this ship between two main characters HAVE to have any significant onscreen development'#'why cant we just build up this ship based on longing looks like the TJLC ppl. its impossible for you to think thats bad writing'#anyway we ended up dming and i tried to clarify that i dont think its well written to build up a relationship on 'subtle glances'#without having them actually interact with each other. at least not a heavily focused on endgame couple involving main characters#at the end of the very frustrating conversation where they just repeated the 'subtle hints' thing over and over again condescendingly#it turns out they thought i agreed to the conversation bc i wanted them to convince me to like the ship!#so they literally didn't listen to anything i said except to hashtag destroy my points with hashtag facts and hashtag logic#and like. you think i haven't looked at all the 'subtle hints' before this conversation? this is a popular ship and i want to like it!#but i looked at it and thought about it and decided i didn't like it! i even said so on the original post!#the point of the post was 'i dont think having the ship longingly gaze at each other counts as a well written ship if they dont ever talk'#and their 'rebuttal' was 'youre wrong it IS well written! why? well because they longingly gaze at each other'#anyway i was just feeling annoyed about that again#also that time an mlb fan sent me a wholeass wordpress essay on why mlb is Good Actually#after i explained i understand why people like it. i was a fan actually! i just both grew out of it and realized the writing is really bad#so bad in fact that the reasons i liked it werent enough to redeem the show for me and it keeps getting worse#anyway yes im vagueposting about people but messaging strangers to restart a months old argument is more deranged i think#i hope the people who condescendingly hop on a strangers posts to write them essays on why they Dont Get It Actually#uhhhhhhhhhhhhh maybe stop that!
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homo-house · 5 months
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hey uh so I haven't seen anyone talking about this here yet, but
the amazon river, like the biggest river in the fucking world, in the middle of the amazon fucking rainforest, is currently going through its worst drought since the records began 121 years ago
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picture from Folha PE
there's a lot going on but I haven't seen much international buzz around this like there was when the forest was on fire (maybe because it's harder to shift the narrative to blame brazil exclusively as if the rest of the world didn't have fault in this) so I wanted to bring this to tumblr's attention
I don't know too many details as I live in the other side of the country and we are suffering from the exact opposite (at least three cyclones this year, honestly have stopped counting - it's unusual for us to get hit by even one - floods, landslides, we have a death toll, people are losing everything to the water), but like, I as a brazilian have literally never seen pictures of the river like this before. every single city in the amazonas state is in a state of emergency as of november 1st.
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pictures by Adriano Liziero (ig: geopanoramas)
we are used to seeing images of rio negro and solimões, the two main amazon river affluents, in all their grandiose and beauty and seeing these pictures is really fucking chilling. some of our news outlets are saying the solimões has turned to a sand desert... can you imagine this watery sight turning into a desert in the span of a year?
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while down south we are seeing amounts of rain and hailstorms the likes of which our infrastructure is simply not built to deal with, up north people who have built everything around the river are at a loss of what to do.
the houses there that are built to float are just on the ground, people who depend on fishing for a living have to walk kilometers to find any fish that are still alive at all, the biodiversity there is at risk, and on an economic level it's hard to grasp how people from the northern states are getting by at all - the main means of transport for ANYTHING in that region is via the river water. this will impact the region for months to come. it doesnt make a lot of sense to build a lot of roads bc it's just better to use the waterway system, everything is built around or floats on the river after all. and like, the water level is so incomprehensibly low the boats are just STUCK. people are having a hard time getting from one place to another - keep in mind the widest parts of the river are over 10 km apart!!
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this shit is really serious and i am trying not to think about it because we have a different kind of problem to worry about down south but it's really terrifying when I stop to think about it. you already know the climate crisis is real and the effects are beyond preventable now (we're past global warming, get used to calling it "global boiling"). we'll be switching strategies to damage control from now on and like, this is what it's come to.
I don't like to be alarmist but it's hard not to be alarmed. I'm sorry that I can't end this post with very clear intructions on how people overseas can help, there really isn't much to do except hope the water level rises soon, maybe pray if you believe in something. in that regard we just have to keep pressing for change at a global level; local conditions only would not, COULD NOT be causing this - the amazon river is a CONTINENTAL body of water, it spans across multiple countries. so my advice is spread the word, let your representatives know that you're worried and you want change towards sustainability, degrowth and reduced carbon emissions, support your local NGOs, maybe join a cause, I don't know? I recommend reading on ecological and feminist economics though
however, I know you can help the affected riverine families by donating to organizations dedicated to helping the region. keep in mind a single US dollar, pound or euro is worth over 5x more in our currency so anything you donate at all will certainly help those affected.
FAS - Sustainable Amazon Fundation
Idesam - Sustainable Developent and Preservation Institute of Amazonas
Greenpeace Brasil - I know Greenpeace isn't the best but they're one of the few options I can think of that have a bridge to the international world and they are helping directly
There are a lot of other smaller/local NGOs but I'm not sure how you could donate to them from overseas, I'll leave some of them here anyway:
Projeto Gari
Caritás Brasileira
If you know any other organizations please link them, I'll be sure to reblog though my reach isn't a lot
thank you so much for reading this to the end, don't feel obligated to share but please do if you can! even if you just read up to here it means a lot to me that someone out there knows
also as an afterthought, I wanted to expand on why I think this hasn't made big news yet: because unlike the case of the 2020 forest fires, other countries have to hold themselves accountable when looking at this situation. while in 2020 it was easier to pretend the fires were all our fault and people were talking about taking the amazon away from us like they wouldn't do much worse. global superpowers have no more forests to speak of so I guess they've been eyeing what latin america still has. so like this bit of the post is just to say if you're thinking of saying anything of the sort, maybe think of what your own country has done to contribute to this instead of blaming brazil exclusively and saying the amazon should be protected by force or whatever
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gnaga37 · 1 year
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reminder for me to do a limulo update when there's more light outside
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starrjoy · 2 months
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hey guys...
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Earlier this week, I accidentally deleted my @starrjoy account while trying to delete an old sideblog. I unfortunately haven't heard from support on a way to recover it yet, so I guess it's time to just start over </3 If you could help me out by reblogging this post and refollowing here and @pandoraaucomic , I'd much appreciate it. I'll be slowly working on reposting everything in the upcoming weeks if i get bad news from support. While losing a following I've been building for over a year and a half is certainly sad, I've been a little more stressed financially since I am a full time artist and run most if not all of my commissions through tumblr. With my current contract ending in a few weeks, any and all monetary help would be greatly appreciated.
ily guys, sorry i'm DUMB
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antarcticajoy · 1 year
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I've been getting paid to walk around 150 year old buildings we BALLIN
featuring this pretty hinge off a door I've been working on
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nostalgebraist · 11 months
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Honestly I'm pretty tired of supporting nostalgebraist-autoresponder. Going to wind down the project some time before the end of this year.
Posting this mainly to get the idea out there, I guess.
This project has taken an immense amount of effort from me over the years, and still does, even when it's just in maintenance mode.
Today some mysterious system update (or something) made the model no longer fit on the GPU I normally use for it, despite all the same code and settings on my end.
This exact kind of thing happened once before this year, and I eventually figured it out, but I haven't figured this one out yet. This problem consumed several hours of what was meant to be a relaxing Sunday. Based on past experience, getting to the bottom of the issue would take many more hours.
My options in the short term are to
A. spend (even) more money per unit time, by renting a more powerful GPU to do the same damn thing I know the less powerful one can do (it was doing it this morning!), or
B. silently reduce the context window length by a large amount (and thus the "smartness" of the output, to some degree) to allow the model to fit on the old GPU.
Things like this happen all the time, behind the scenes.
I don't want to be doing this for another year, much less several years. I don't want to be doing it at all.
----
In 2019 and 2020, it was fun to make a GPT-2 autoresponder bot.
[EDIT: I've seen several people misread the previous line and infer that nostalgebraist-autoresponder is still using GPT-2. She isn't, and hasn't been for a long time. Her latest model is a finetuned LLaMA-13B.]
Hardly anyone else was doing anything like it. I wasn't the most qualified person in the world to do it, and I didn't do the best possible job, but who cares? I learned a lot, and the really competent tech bros of 2019 were off doing something else.
And it was fun to watch the bot "pretend to be me" while interacting (mostly) with my actual group of tumblr mutuals.
In 2023, everyone and their grandmother is making some kind of "gen AI" app. They are helped along by a dizzying array of tools, cranked out by hyper-competent tech bros with apparently infinite reserves of free time.
There are so many of these tools and demos. Every week it seems like there are a hundred more; it feels like every day I wake up and am expected to be familiar with a hundred more vaguely nostalgebraist-autoresponder-shaped things.
And every one of them is vastly better-engineered than my own hacky efforts. They build on each other, and reap the accelerating returns.
I've tended to do everything first, ahead of the curve, in my own way. This is what I like doing. Going out into unexplored wilderness, not really knowing what I'm doing, without any maps.
Later, hundreds of others with go to the same place. They'll make maps, and share them. They'll go there again and again, learning to make the expeditions systematically. They'll make an optimized industrial process of it. Meanwhile, I'll be locked in to my own cottage-industry mode of production.
Being the first to do something means you end up eventually being the worst.
----
I had a GPT chatbot in 2019, before GPT-3 existed. I don't think Huggingface Transformers existed, either. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.
I had a denoising diffusion image generator in 2021, before DALLE-2 or Stable Diffusion or Huggingface Diffusers. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.
Earlier this year, I was (probably) one the first people to finetune LLaMA. I manually strapped LoRA and 8-bit quantization onto the original codebase, figuring out everything the hard way. It was fun.
Just a few months later, and your grandmother is probably running LLaMA on her toaster as we speak. My homegrown methods look hopelessly antiquated. I think everyone's doing 4-bit quantization now?
(Are they? I can't keep track anymore -- the hyper-competent tech bros are too damn fast. A few months from now the thing will be probably be quantized to -1 bits, somehow. It'll be running in your phone's browser. And it'll be using RLHF, except no, it'll be using some successor to RLHF that everyone's hyping up at the time...)
"You have a GPT chatbot?" someone will ask me. "I assume you're using AutoLangGPTLayerPrompt?"
No, no, I'm not. I'm trying to debug obscure CUDA issues on a Sunday so my bot can carry on talking to a thousand strangers, every one of whom is asking it something like "PENIS PENIS PENIS."
Only I am capable of unplugging the blockage and giving the "PENIS PENIS PENIS" askers the responses they crave. ("Which is ... what, exactly?", one might justly wonder.) No one else would fully understand the nature of the bug. It is special to my own bizarre, antiquated, homegrown system.
I must have one of the longest-running GPT chatbots in existence, by now. Possibly the longest-running one?
I like doing new things. I like hacking through uncharted wilderness. The world of GPT chatbots has long since ceased to provide this kind of value to me.
I want to cede this ground to the LLaMA techbros and the prompt engineers. It is not my wilderness anymore.
I miss wilderness. Maybe I will find a new patch of it, in some new place, that no one cares about yet.
----
Even in 2023, there isn't really anything else out there quite like Frank. But there could be.
If you want to develop some sort of Frank-like thing, there has never been a better time than now. Everyone and their grandmother is doing it.
"But -- but how, exactly?"
Don't ask me. I don't know. This isn't my area anymore.
There has never been a better time to make a GPT chatbot -- for everyone except me, that is.
Ask the techbros, the prompt engineers, the grandmas running OpenChatGPT on their ironing boards. They are doing what I did, faster and easier and better, in their sleep. Ask them.
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majestyeverlasting · 9 months
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A Little Less Restless
Pairing: Bucky x Reader (friends to lovers)
Summary: As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.
Word Count: 2k
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A/N: I haven't posted any new writing in a bit, and it feels good to be resolving that (yay me). Please enjoy this piece I wrote today. Lot's of fluff and very obvious feelings. It's been a while since I wrote something for him. <3
Three knocks sound on Bucky’s front door as his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom. He's leaning close to the mirror in careful criticism. Enough to see the green flecks in his irises. The freckles on his cheeks from being in the sun. The pricks of hair making up his scruff. Then he eases back and squares his shoulders. They fall after he releases a breath. 
He prays he doesn’t look as restless as he feels. 
The smile you give him when he answers the door carries a warmth he isn’t sure he deserves. But he takes it because that’s all he can do. Enjoy it like a man who’s been cold his whole life. By some miracle, he feels himself smiling back in that small, weighted way of his. It was a trade off of sorts, and now you’re even. No outstanding debts. 
He motions you inside with a soft please, and you study him once you’re in the foyer. In the few seconds that you’re silently observing, Bucky wishes he knew exactly why. As tender as your gaze is, heat was already rising to his cheeks. But like everything else when it comes to you, he takes it. Looks right back at you shyly, pushes his hands into his pockets, and waits. 
“Your hair’s shorter,” you finally say, smile growing wider. “Did you cut it?” 
“Cut it,” he repeats like a question, hands moving to run through it. The previous night creeps back to the forefront of his mind. 
When he’d gone for a walk to get some air and inadvertently found himself being drawn in by the red, white, and blue barber’s pole spiraling on the next block. It’d been ages since he’d gone to a professional, but walking inside to the faint scent of tobacco and aftershave made him feel as though he’d never stopped. 
“Mhm,” you hum, certain. 
The stumped look on his face vanishes like it was never supposed to be there. “I went and got it trimmed at a place called Ricky’s last night.” 
“And you forgot that quickly?” Next thing he knows, you’re wrapping him in an embrace, peeking up at him after a few seconds, “I’m teasing.” 
He squeezes you back tighter. 
It’s you who eventually pulls away, and he finds himself trailing you as you venture deeper into his apartment, eyes roving thoughtfully. A coffee table now complements the couch in the living room. The walls are no longer bare. At long last, the space was beginning to look more like a home. 
For the longest time, Bucky had only seen it as a place to rest his head after countless assignments that took him miles away. It didn’t need to be anything special, or so he thought. One of the first things you told him upon coming into his life was that he needed a constant. A place to come back to that he could make his own. That was his. He’d spent so much of his life serving other people and belonging to other people that he was finally learning what it meant to be his own. 
It was exhausting not being halfway across the world with a task to busy his mind. Brooklyn was still in comparison. A place where he could recognize street names, faces, point out buildings that used to be something else when he was a kid. And now there was you, who made being stateside worthwhile in a way he didn’t think was possible. He realized then, how much he’d deprived himself of meaningful connections outside of work. 
“It looks great in here, Buck. What’d I tell you?” Your earnesty is genuine. Makes him, as old and borderline cynical as he is, feel special. “You’re gonna have to start inviting me over more.” You shoot him a wink, and he freezes because of the weight of the implication. If you notice, you don’t say anything. 
A few months ago you’d been strangers crossing paths. Then acquaintances. Now friends who cared about each other a whole awful lot. Only, it was more obvious on your end. He kept most of his sentiments guarded, not yet ready for them to bleed out like an open wound. It didn’t help that you were always wielding a knife, coming closer and closer to cut through the wall he built around himself. 
“You can come over whenever you want,” he says. “I’m always here.” 
“When you’re not on assignment,” you add. “And I know. I just don’t want to scare you away.” 
Bucky frowns at the suggestion, but his lips eventually turn up. “Good thing you’re not a scary person,” he says, counting on earning a laugh. Something. 
And you do, right before shaking your head. “I’m serious.” 
“You couldn’t scare me away,” he assures. 
You nod slowly. “So how’ve you been?” There’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue, so he waits it out. It ends up punching him right in the gut. “You look…I don’t know.” 
It hadn’t been all too long since he’d come back from Morocco. Only a week. And it would be a while before he was sent out anywhere else. His mind was in the constant process of drifting to the type of thoughts all men sifted through when they have nothing but time. Those regarding purpose, belonging, and meaning. Not to a deep, crippling degree, but enough to make him want to spring into some sort of action. Find something to indulge in that wasn’t saving the world. 
Bucky swallows and shifts his weight. “Restless,” he offers. “Didn’t think you’d notice.” 
“I’ll always notice.” Silence stretches between the two of you and a siren wails in the distance. “Maybe we can go out tonight, just you and me. Is that something you’d wanna do?” The question sounds shy. 
What you didn’t know quite yet is that he’d probably do just about anything if it was with you. 
***
At the end of the night, it’s Bucky who pulls out his card and pays for dinner. Not even giving you the chance to think about digging into your purse. As an old tune continues playing overhead, your grateful eyes sparkle at him from across the table. 
Neither of you had dined here before. It’s one of the places Bucky said used to go by a different name and was run by a different family, Italians. You liked listening to him talk about what once was because it made you realize just how much he knew. Just how thoughtful and reverent he was when it came to the good memories he had. 
Being listened to so intently was new for him. But he enjoyed it. Especially when you’d ask questions or bring up a point he made further back in the conversation. By the time the waiter comes back around with his card and his copy of the receipt, the two of you are basking in the memory of the evening and thinking about what the rest of the night may hold. 
“This was really nice,” he says, folding his napkin and setting it aside on the table. Then his expression becomes consumed by a certain solemness. “I don’t know how well it comes across, but I need you to know that I appreciate you. A lot.”
Your heart nearly bursts. “I know, Bucky,” you promise. He still looks unconvinced, so you extend your hand face up on the table for him to take. “I know.” 
The cab ride back to his place is quiet. You hold onto his hand the whole way, relishing the feeling of his thumb tracing back and forth over your skin. It’s a gesture that says I’m here with, I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me. Brooklyn passes by in rushes of darkness peppered with light. Pedestrians walk alongside the streets, some holding hands just like the two of you. It isn’t long before the driver pulls up alongside the curb of the complex. 
It isn’t until you’re in the elevator that you’re sure that you want to stay. 
The two of you get off at the fifth floor. 
“Is it okay if I spend the night? If not, I completely understand. I know it’s such short notice,” you ramble as he’s turning his key into the door. He hopes you don’t notice the way he falters. But part of him knows you do. You don’t miss anything. Luckily for him, you’re just as fazed by your own question, holding your breath. 
It’s not until you’re inside that he graces you with an answer, “‘Course you can.”
Your shoulders drop in relief. What you’re not expecting is the laugh he tries to bite back. Maybe it was mean of him, but he liked knowing he could make you sweat. Sometimes it seemed like it was only ever you who made him openly anxious. 
“You’re terrible,” you accuse, failing at restraining a smile. “Absolutely horrible.” You’d forgotten to throw away an empty water bottle before you left, and it’s the closest thing you’re able to throw his way in retaliation. He catches it and tosses it in the trash himself. 
Mischief written all along his smile when he starts towards you. 
Partly scared and partly excited, you think to flee at the last second. After a few measly steps, you’re being pulled back into the firmness of his chest. He’s sure enough laughing now, the vibration rushing straight into your back right along with the warmth of his body. So are you. He only has one arm secured around your waist and, despite the fact that he’s not even trying, it's enough to hold you. 
“Wait, wait, wait—hold on a second!” your words come out giggly both because you’re anticipating some sort of attack, and because he’s never held you quite like this before. Unlike a normal hug, this feels like he has you rather than you having each other. It’s vulnerable. Dizzying. 
“You win, you win!” 
“What?” he laughs in surprise. His mouth is so close to your ear that you shiver. “Thought you had more fight in you than that,” there’s a playful warmth to his words. 
You shake your head in denial and relax back into him. You didn’t stand a chance of winning unless he let you, and you were more than willing to tap out early. Because even so, you were still in his arms at his mercy, and somehow that felt like the safest place to be. By the time you realize both of your laughter has faded to a thoughtful silence, he’s pressing a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear. 
When he lowers his arm from around your waist, you turn around to face him. 
There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. He suddenly looks boyish, younger. Having crawled out of whatever shell of crushing expectation and responsibility he usually resided within. 
When he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, his shoulders relax and his breaths slow. And for once, he indulges. In you. In the prospect of having someone to lean on and being leaned on in return. It’s a reminder that he’s allowed to experience nice things. To have a life to look forward to outside of lending himself to cause after cause. 
You’re soft, and warm, and everything good a person could be. He pulls away slowly after a while, blinking down at you with heavy eyelids. You’re looking right back at him like he’s the world itself. 
“Maybe you’re not so terrible,” you whisper, smiling. 
Of everything he was feeling now, restless wasn’t one of them. 
_
Thank you so much for reading! I promise I see every like, comment, and reblog and appreciate them all very much. 
To join my “taglist,” follow @taleseverlasting
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zyafics · 16 days
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brother's rival (part two)
series: brother’s rival → part one here
pairing: rafe cameron x female reader
summary: you and your brother were born pogues, but once your family made enough to move to figure eight, you became a kook. unfortunately, rafe cameron doesn't welcome pogue-born kooks. and it doesn't help that your brother is determined to steal the title of king of kooks from him. so, if your brother is trying to steal something from him, rafe is going to return the favor.
warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, angst
zya's notes: if you would like to be added to a taglist (still trying to get the hand of this), pls like the post pinned on my account. thank you!!
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
True to his word, Rafe texted you. Several times.
You just haven't texted him back.
It's not that you don't want to; you're itching to type back a response and see how he would react. You just can't seem to understand why. Why Rafe Cameron is talking to you, flirting with you, trying to make you feel things that you definitely should not be feeling for your brother's rival.
So, you kept your distance.
But that doesn't mean you've gotten him off your mind.
At night, in your bedroom alone, you close your eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. You've been stressed for the past couple of days, trying to figure out what to do with your summer, that all you want to do now is to find some release.
And you know the best solution for it.
You imagine Rafe in the room with you, taking in the shirt and panties you're wearing and nothing else. You imagine him approaching you, planting kisses against your lips while his hands are exploring every curve on your body. He would find the sensitive spot on your neck and tease, whispering dirty words in your ear.
You would argue back with everything he says, but in truth, all you want to do is submit.
Your hand dips to the space between your legs, kicking the comforter down to your ankles. Brushing your fingers against the cotton panties, you realize it's soaked—a testament to your dirty thoughts.
Your fingers push the fabric to the side, slowly teasing up your slit the way you believe Rafe would. He would go slow, taking in how your body reacts to the slightest touch. He would play with you, until you couldn't help but beg for it, and only then would he slip a digit into your cunt, starting a slow pace.
That's what you do.
You push a forefinger in, feeling your walls grip around the small finger. You start slow, building the sensation in your stomach as you imagine Rafe whispering praises in your ear, telling you all the dirty thoughts he had about you. What he wants to do to you.
Your pussy clenches, but it isn't enough to build towards an orgasm. You add another finger, thinking about what Rafe would say about how tight you are, about how you can barely fit two, and you quicken your pace. The teasing, the imagery, you can't help but let out a small moan, "Rafe."
But even as you build towards the feeling of a climax, it isn't enough. A thin layer of sweat coats your body and your legs ache at their overstretched position while your chest heaves—with want, with need for this release.
You crane your neck back, arching your back, letting out little whines as you feel how close you're getting but not completely there yet. "Please," you mumble softly, to yourself and to any God who would let you finish. "Please, please."
"You're doing it wrong."
The voice isn't your own, but you know exactly who it belongs to.
You eyes rip open, finding Rafe in the dark, standing near the entrance of your bedroom. You let out a little yelp, pulling up the comforter pooled at your feet as you hide your exposed body and readjust your panties under the sheets.
He looks content, leaning against the wall, while your heart is racing, your breathing erratic and, for a second, you don't know if you're hallucinating him or if he's truly here.
"What–what are you doing here?" You demand but your voice is weak, trying to regain some control over yourself after being caught in such an incriminating position.
Rafe appears casual. "I had to get some paperwork for my dad."
Your mother works with Rafe's father as a freelance accountant.
"In the middle of the night?"
He shrugs. "Ward Cameron never stops."
You can see he doesn't want to explain further than that. You want to probe, noticing the slight shift in his demeanor, almost minuscule, at the mention of his father, but you decided against it. You had other problems to be dealing with.
"That doesn't explain why you're in my room," you snap.
"Gave myself a house tour while your mom is looking for it." He says, pushing himself off the wall and stepping into your sanction, closing the door behind him. The lights from the hallway fades out, enveloping your room into a darkness—saved for the faint moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains and a lit lamp sitting on your nightstand.
You say nothing as he approaches you; your voice in your throat.
He stops at the foot of your bed. "You didn't text me back."
You don't know if you detect insecurity in his words or if you're imagining it. You settle on the idea that Rafe Cameron isn't used to not women throwing themselves at him, not demanding his attention, that he doesn't know what to do with it.
"My phone broke."
He watches you for a moment, trying to read you, before nodding silently. You don't know if he believes you.
You glance over at the door, afraid that Dean is going to walk in at any minute—because brothers do that—before remembering that he isn't home. He went out with a couple of his friends, staying the night at The Cut. That lessens the anxiety in your stomach, but it doesn't completely dissipate.
In the quietness of the moment, Rafe gestures out a hand to you. "Don't stop on my account, princess. Continue what you were doing."
You glare at him, heat rushing to your cheeks. "Fuck off."
He laughs.
Rafe settles himself on the corner of your mattress, making himself comfortable, while keeping his eyes pinned on you. You don't know what to do with this level of attention, with this spotlight, and while you had the strongest urge to get up and leave—you can't. You truly are wearing nothing more than a pair of panties and a loose, baggy sleep tee you stole from your brother's closet. If you stand up now, Rafe would receive a free show. You already embarrassed yourself enough, you don't want to add to the list.
You don't want to kick him out the room either.
His eyes studies the room around you; the tangled sheets, the disorganized pillow arrangement. It was an obvious sight of what happened. Cocking a brow of his, he asks, "couldn't come?"
Yes, but you weren't going to tell him that. You cross your arms over your chest and frown, trying to pull together what little pride you had left. "Are you going to tell a woman how to handle her own body?"
"I will if she's doing it wrong."
Your cheeks are flaming hot because it confirms that he did see. He saw you struggling. He saw you intimate. Clenching your jaw to relieve some of the embarrassment you feel, Rafe offers something unexpected.
"I can help you."
You don't know if you misheard him. "What?"
He chuckles softly, his hand grabbing the comforter covering you. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"I have a hard time believing you are that selfless."
"I'm not," he confirms, slowly pulling down the comforter shielding your body. You let him. "But I'm always willing to help you come."
"Knight in shining armor?"
"Just yours, baby."
You don't answer him. Not knowing how to react after he calls you baby. He completely pulls the comforter out of his way, revealing your long legs and the lousy sleepwear. His blue eyes trail up to examine you, tracing the tiny cotton panties that barely covers anything to the outline of your hardened nipples under your shirt.
He moves closer. His hand running up your calves, your thighs, in such a gentle yet sensual manner, a shiver leaves your body. When he stops right in between your legs, near your core, he glances up at you. "Can I?"
Mesmerized by the sight of him, you nod. He lowers his hand to graze against the cover, laughing softly to himself.
"God, you're dripping," he mumbles, pushing the panties to the side as his fingers touch your slick cunt. You slightly jerk forward at the unfamiliar, but not unwelcome, touch of his. "And sensitive. Are you sure you can't come?"
You know he's teasing you. You predicted this. But you couldn't help but turn the conversation onto him. "I thought you were going to help me," you bite back. "Or can you not handle it?"
His eyes darken. "Be careful what you wish for."
"I want—" You stop yourself, hoping he didn't hear you. Rafe stiffens, looking up to your face.
"You what?" He demands.
His eyes are so hard, so commanding, you can't help but submit.
"I want to come." You whisper. "I want to come by you."
His grin is entirely too smug. Without wasting time, he easily slips two fingers into your wet folds and your walls clench around him. "Fuck," he whispers to himself. "You're so tight."
Just as you predicted.
Rafe begins to stroke you, starting at a slow pace as your cunt gets used to his size. His fingers are larger than yours. His pace more rough. His other hand grabs your hips, keeping you in place as your body unwittingly wrestles away from it.
You whimper softly, hearing the wetness of your pussy echoing through the small room. Your hips buck, trying to grind against his hand, but he holds you down, keeping total control over what he can do with your body.
You whine.
You can't help but feel a little disappointed. If he knew you were struggling, he should've also known it was by penetration alone. You can't come, won't come, even if he's the one controlling it.
"Rub yourself for me," Rafe commands, pulling you away from your thoughts. You look down at him, concentrating on your cunt before his eyes flicks up to meet your face, his eyes hungry. "Now."
Your hand tentative slips between your legs. You've never masturbated in front of someone else before, and you're nervous, but the command behind Rafe's voice make you obedient. A need to please. When you find your clit, you begin to move in slow, circular motions.
It builds and builds.
"Oh," you gasps, as the combined action causes your hips to jerk forward more violently. However, Rafe knew, holding them in place. The orgasm builds quicker, especially with his control. "Oh, fuck."
You let your head tip back against the headboard, allowing the pleasure to course through you in rapid succession. Rafe quickens the rhythm he started from, easing a small whimper out of you. "Rafe," you moan quietly, afraid of being too loud.
He notices.
He shakes his head, stopping his thrusts and leaving your core aching. "No, princess, I want to hear you say my name louder. I know you can do it."
You were afraid of being caught. You were afraid of the neighbors hearing. But, you were so close. "What if my mom hears?"
"I don't care." He declares, returning to his strokes, starting at the slow beginning. It causes a needy whine to leave your throat. "Either you say it right or you're not coming tonight."
His fingers curl inside of you, hitting the right spots you didn't even know you had, and an explosion of pleasure erupts inside of you. "Rafe," you moan again, with less restraint, a little louder.
He shakes his head. "Louder," he commands. "I need to hear you."
His strokes are precise and measured. He knows the exact places to go to make you feel good. Adding on, he extends his thumb and begins to rub your clit with you. This act, alone, makes your stomach knot, twist, and tighten in a way that's familiar and demanding. Your legs shake, your fingers quicken on their own, matching the pace of his rhythm, and you let out the loudest moan as you come. "Rafe."
You slump back against your mattress, feeling his grip around your hips loosen as his fingers pull away from your cunt. Through heavy-lids and short breaths, you watch as Rafe brings his slick fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. An expression of pride and satisfaction etched over his features.
"Fuck," he groans, "you taste so sweet."
Your stomach erupts in little flutters at the compliment, and before you get the chance to make a retort—to thank him, to argue back—a phone rings.
Rafe's head turns to your nightstand, where your phone is plugged in and lit with a name, and scoffs. He pushes himself off the bed and glances down at the caller ID on the screen.
"Your phone broke, huh?" He glances up at you, to which you couldn’t do anything but sheepishly shrug.
"Who is it?"
"Your brother is calling." He says with an hint of disgust, disconnecting your phone from the charger. Just as he's about to hand it to you, he withdrawals his hand quickly and an idea passes through him. He smirks. "What if I answer?"
Your heart lunges out of your chest and you force yourself up from the mattress, on your weak knees, reaching out for the phone. Rafe pulls back, raising it just out of your reach. "Rafe, don't."
"But wouldn't you like to know how your brother would react knowing I made you come?"
He would kill you.
You push yourself to your feet on the bed, using it as an additive height to grab your phone, but Rafe is clever. He steps back far enough where you can't move towards him without toppling over and his hand stretches out all the way out of your reach.
"Rafe," you beg, connecting your eyes with his in a pleading look. "Please."
"Not the perfect sister anymore, are you?"
You don't answer him, watching as his face twists in amusement. His eyes studying your face, his expression smug. "God, if only your brother know how you moaned for me. It would kill him, wouldn't it?"
Your heart is hammering in your chest. You don't know what to do.
"What is stopping me from answering?" He asks to himself, but the question lingers for you. It's a challenge. What can you give him that would make him stop.
And your answer is nothing.
There's absolutely nothing you can give him. He's a Cameron—he can afford anything and everything with the snap of his fingers. The Tanneyhill estate cost more than you could ever imagine and he is the son of a multimillionaire. You're just a Pogue who moved to Figure Eight, masquerading as a Kook.
You were no match.
But, you wonder, for a second, if there is something.
"We'll never do this again." Your voice is small at first, but when the words hit his ears, it caused his smug expression to falter slightly. You take that as a sight to grow confidence. "I'll never let you touch me again. I'll never even touch you."
Rafe's face lost its humor. His jaw slightly tense, his eyes studying yours. For a moment, you thought it wasn't enough. That he will still answer the ringing number flashing your screen.
But he lowers the phone and gives it to you.
"You're thinking like a Kook," he scoffs softly, his words thoughtful, before his eyes finds yours. "There may be hope for you yet."
When you have the phone back in your grasp, the phone call goes to an end. Your heart still beating roughly, your breathing hard, you clutch the device to your chest like it's a lifeline.
Rafe watches you. Just then, you hear your mother calls for Rafe from her downstair office. He glances at the door for a brief second, before turning back to you. "I'll see you around, princess."
Without waiting for an answer, Rafe spares one glance at the device in your arms—a visible annoyance on his face—before rounding the bedframe and exit from your room.
You take a second to compose yourself, to calm your breathing and adjust your sleepwear into their intended position. When you glance down at the light-up screen, you can't believe that you won. That you got Rafe to hand you back your phone without talking to your brother.
You don't want to admit that the threat you threw out scared you. That the idea of him not touching you anymore pains you. That the idea of never touching him makes you sad.
But it worked out.
So, as you click on the notification to return the missed call, bringing the phone to your ear as you wait for Dean to answer, you try to put on an appearance as if everything is normal.
As if Rafe Cameron didn't give you an orgasm.
As if you didn't love it.
taglist: @quicksilversg1rl / @namelesslosers / @congratsloserr / @rafeysbafey / @rafesgiirl / @cjdkanflrmwjflc / @nloverxx / @gh0stsp1d3r / @1aarii1 / @dirtytissuebox / @secretly-tumb1r / @strwberry-kisses / @rockeater78 / @alysaurusrex69 / @trouvii / @idkbruntte / @nunya696969698 / @ariana2saucyy / @mskaykay17 / @dyfsfhiobh / @bellkatie6189 / @alyssax25 / @we2222 / @car1er / @theofficialbugs / @whorefordrew / @bobo-bush / @irides-solstice / @exhaustedbutelated
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m0nsterqzzz · 1 month
Text
Cat's Out of the Bag La Rue
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pairing: Clarisse La Rue x reader
summary: Valentines Day rolls around, and what kind of girlfriend would Clarisse be if she didnt get you the only present you've been wanting?
a/n: i wrote like 5 fucking valentines day fics yesterday (one with natasha, one with wanda, one with clarisse, one with carol danvers, and one with katniss everdeen) yet this is the only one im posting and i kinda hate it. literally the shortest oneshot i've ever written. also, I'm literally a dog person writing about cats. what has life come to?
is this the worst thing i've ever written? yes. do i hate every other piece of written recently cuz im in writers block and haven't updated in like 3 weeks? also yes. im so done yall.
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With a baseball cap covering her head, tucking her curls against her head and being the best disguise she could come up with, Clarisse’s eyes dart all around the cab. It zooms through the streets of New York, making the child of Are’s slightly concerned for her and her siblings safety as they get honked out. The man driving seems like he’s barely paying attention to the road, but in the end it doesn’t really matter as long as they get to their destination. 
There are three children in the yellow car; Clarisse, her half brother Mark, and her half sister Ruby. They were the only ones who she could convince to come with her to town, past the safe bounds of camp half blood where nothing but their weapons can stop monsters from hunting and hurting them.
It’d be a lie to say Clarisse isn’t nervous, but she pushes the feeling down as she grips her spear tighter in her left hand. 
This is for you. She’s going into town and risking getting in trouble for the end result of seeing her favorite smile. Your smile. Her partner of one year. It may not seem like a very long time to some people, but you guys are demigods. It’s surprising you made it through the year without being killed by some horrible, ugly monster.
The car stops and the guy counts the large amount of money Mark hands him before telling them to get out of his cab. It may have annoyed the teenagers on any other day, but it doesn’t bother them too much since today is a special day.
“Why are we here?” Ruby asks, eyes scanning the area around them as if sure something is going to jump out at them. In the blonde haired girl's defense, it’s very possible something will.
Clarisse gestures to the small building in front of them. It’s run down and in desperate need of a paint job, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not what grabs the child of Ares attention. It’s the small animals chilling in their little spots inside the store. That’s what she’s here for.
The sign above the small colorful store reads, “Mike’s Animals”. Boring name, but gets the point across. She can already see the little animal she came here for when they walk through the door, the loud bell ringing from the action of opening it but no employee comes to help them. Clarisse lets her siblings stare in awe at the other animals for a few months before shoving towards a section near the back. The kitten section. You had been showing her a website on your phone a few days ago, one with a different selection of the small animals. The website was for Mike’s Animals, but you explained that even though you’d really like a cat, pets aren’t allowed in Camp Half Blood. It’s a rule.
Well you wanna know what Clarisse says about that? Screw rules. What her person want’s, her person gets.
So if the police ever come around, asking you why Clarisse shoved a black and white kitten into her brother's coat pocket and then made a run for it while the store manager chased after them, that’s what you have to say.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
You're laying on your bed reading a book when your girlfriend walks in, a large box covered by a piece of fabric under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She ignores your siblings' gazes as she walks towards your space, setting down the box with a type of gentleness nobody in camp but you gets to see and then holding out the flowers.
They’re your favorite, clearly straight out of the flower fields by the slight glow they give off. They’re wrapped in a brown type of paper with a pink bow clearly down by one of the Aphrodite kids to hold it all together.
“Hey my love.” She starts. “These are for you.” You take the plants with a large grin on your face, bringing them closer to your face to smell the amazing natural scent coming from them. Something moves inside the box she sat on your bed, making you hold in a scream as you jump closer to your girlfriend and farther away from it. “What the hell is moving in that Clarisse?!” You ask, your siblings' attention all over you guys now.
Clarisse just laughs, but she seems slightly nervous as she puts the crate in your lap. “Just look. I hope you like it.” She continues to nervously ramble as you remove the cloth from the top of the box, letting out a small gasp when you see the small animal looking back at you with wide, curious blue eyes.
Your girlfriend stares as you gently pick him up, him instantly curling into your hold with a soft pur as you hold him close to your chest. “You um…you like him?” She asks with a small smile.
“Of course I do! He’s adorable, Risse!” She lets out a relieved sigh, laying down next to you as your siblings surround the bed trying to get a look at the animal. “You know Chiron will never let you keep that right?” One of your brothers asks with a laugh, and you frown as you look at your girlfriend.
She thinks about it for a moment before she says, “We’ll just hide him. He can lounge around the cabin while you’re gone, and you guys can hide him somewhere during cabin checks. Chiron will never know.”
Your siblings eventually leave you alone, going back to their acticicus as your two favorite beings cuddle up to you. Clarisse cuddles up next to your side, and the kitten on your stomach. “I really like you Oreo.” you whisper to the animal, making your girlfriend laugh. “Oreo? That’s the most original thing you could think of right?”
“Okay if you're so great at naming things, what should we name him?”
She goes quiet for a few seconds before mumbling in defeat, “I like Oreo.”
You guys enjoy the silence that surrounds just you guys as you pet Oreo, but then a small laugh comes from you when Clarisse gently grabs the cat and pulls him off your chest so she can lay her head there. “He’s been here for half an hour and you're already jealous?” “He was getting way too touchy. Mine.” She teases and then fakes an annoyed groan when he crawls onto her back and lays down, stretching himself out just to prove a point.
“Will you be my Valentine, my love?” She asks as she places her chin on your chest to look up at you. There's a certain softness in her eyes that you and only you get to see. In fact, it’s very, very rare you ever see the side everyone else talks about when they talk about Clarisse towards you. “You guys just don’t know her like I do.” You tell them. Not like they believe you, half of the camp still believing you somehow put a spell on her.
“Only if you’ll be mine.” You whisper back as if it’s a secret.
“Oh…this is awkward. I already agreed to be like ten other girls date.” Her voice is teasing as she tries and fails not to giggle.
“Is that so?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Hm.” You fake being offended as you cross your arms over your chest and look away. She laughs, and the sound practically forces a smile on your face.
“I’m kidding. Only you, angel. I’m yours. Always.” 
“And I’m yours, Clarisse La Rue.” 
“Always?” 
“And forever.”
There’s a knock on your cabin door, and you figure it’s another camper until a voice calls from the other side of the door, “Clarisse? I know you're in there. Your siblings told me where you went. Cat’s out of the bag La Rue.” Chiron says. Very terrible choice of words. She groans into your stomach, rolling off of you and successfully getting Oreo to jump off her back and onto the bed.
“Those little snitches.” She snarls as she gets up to open the door, making you instantly miss her warmth.
You place the cat under your sweater, giggling and then shoving his face back under when he crawls to put his head through the neck hole. Once she knows he’s covered, Clarisse opens the door. Chirons eyes fall to you, and it’s only then do you think about the fact that there is a giant Oreo shaped lump in your sweater.
All your siblings fall silent as they watch to see what’s gonna happen.
“Mac and cheese day am I right?” You try to joke with a nervous chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh. He just runs a hand over his face and then stares at you. “You know what? I don’t care. You find a way to feed him that isn’t taking resources from us, you make sure he doesn’t do any damage to the furniture, and you keep track of him at all times, you can keep him.”
You grin at him, letting the small animal out of your sweater who in turn lowly hisses at the sight of Chiron.
He groans, walking off as he mumbles something about needing a very long vacation. There's only so much of your girlfriend bending the rules to get you presents he can handle before he was bound to just accept it.
The cinatar leaves, your girlfriend flipping him off when he can’t see. He yells over his shoulder, “I know what you’re doing Clarisse! Stop it or no dessert!” 
She stops flipping him off. Next to you, chocolate cake is what she lives for.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
That night, as you sit with Clarisse at the bonfire, she listens to you complain about how much you miss Oreo. Usually, you’d be too busy roasting marshmallows and cuddling with her to think about anything else, but your girlfriend doesn’t do anything other than smile, happy she made you so happy.
“So how’d you get him anyway? You don’t have that kind of money and there’s no way Chiron gave it to you.” You say, and she freezes in her spot on a log, slightly tightening her arms that are wrapped around your waist as she avoids your eyes.
“I stole him.” Her voice is slightly quieter than usual, and she says this in the most casual tone she can muster.
“CLARISSE LA RUE!”
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luveline · 3 months
Note
Hey jade, I hope you had a good Christmas,
Love your writing so much it brings me so much serotonin 🤣🤣 I have a request for hotch if you’d be up to it, I just love this man’s patience and understanding and would love to see him interact with reader who struggles with sex? Or just sexual stuff in general, like maybe she feels really embarrassed about it and doesn’t know how to talk about it with him? Idk if this is something you’d be interested in just thought I’d throw it out there. Regardless, I can’t wait to see what you post next ♥️♥️♥️
hotch lends you some comfort when a certain topic flusters you, 1.1k
cw adult themes, mdni 
“It's almost cheaper to have kids.” 
You scoop your gaze from the deodorants. “What?” you ask, looking first to Hotch, and then to his eyeline. “Oh.” 
The grocery store boasts a few rows of contraceptives. Condoms, dental dams, and under that, lubes and stimulants in candy rainbow colours. Thirty one ninety nine for silicone-free, aloe vera flavoured lube. Twenty seven for o-gel. 
You avert your gaze without fact-checking him on the condoms, laughing awkwardly as your heart races. “Right.” 
“I'm kidding. Just feeding Jack is a surprising expense.” He says surprising like it's delightful. “Good thing we have cushy jobs.” 
Oh, he's feeling funny tonight. Your laugh is authentic as he takes your arm, the basket in his other clinking as he starts forward again. You finish your quick stock up and Hotch pays for your things despite your protests, packing you and the bags into his ‘cushy’ car. 
You're a little embarrassed in the passenger seat. Your relationship with Hotch is complicated in that while you're in the official early days, you pined for a long time. You're undoubtedly in love with him, and though he's your boss and your senior, he seems to have taken a similar liking to you, hence another chilled out date night upon his invitation. And you've you've messed around like teenagers with kisses too hot and hands wandering, but you haven't fucked, and it's a problem, because your usual awkwardness around the subject grows bigger the longer you wait. 
Hotch can wait forever if he wants, you're not trying to rush him. If he wanted to fuck you tonight you'd probably be too nervous anyhow. 
You can't talk about condoms. How are you going to cope when you have to use one? 
Your stomach churns the longer you think about it. Hotch doesn't react at first, but you know he's figured you out when he covers your hand atop your knee and gives it a squeeze. You okay?
“Can we turn on the radio?” you ask. 
His hand lifts away slowly. He turns on the radio, and you think, oh, he's mad. No, not mad. Irritated, maybe, or confused. That's not fair to him. You think it anyway, sick to your stomach as he parks in the parking garage under his building and you make your way up. 
He doesn't pull any punches —as soon as you're inside with your shoes off and the door locked, he puts the groceries on the counter and looks at you until you meet his eyes. 
“I'm sorry,” he says. 
“What for?” you ask, startled. 
“I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to imply anything before you're ready.” He's handsome like this, earnest, his eyebrows raised and an inviting palm held open on the counter beside him. “It was a poorly judged joke.” 
“No, no, I,” —you bring a hand to your mouth, cover it, uncover it— “don't mind if you want to joke about it. It would be weird to care, right?” 
He hears an insecurity in your tone you don't mean to reveal, and he pieces it together swiftly. Understanding lines his eyes. “I don't think so,” he murmurs. 
You're embarrassed beyond words, but he is your boyfriend. He asked with a little expensive bracelet and your favourite baked treat from the bakery near work. You'd only ever mentioned it once, but he remembered. He knows you well, and he's never given you reason to be afraid of his reactions. 
“It's just so embarrassing,” you mumble, staring down at your socks. 
“What is?” he asks, crossing the kitchen to take your hands. “You don't have to be embarrassed about anything, you're perfect.” 
Your breath catches, your neck cracking uncomfortably as you look up. “I– I don't know how to talk about it. I know it's childish.” 
“No, it's not. It's a big thing, and it comes naturally to some people, but not everyone.” His brow furrows a little, the warm depth of his voice working to unspool the tight panic you'd been clinging to, “I'd never push you to do something you're not ready for.” 
“I know that. It's not you. And I don't know if I'm ready or not, it's just–” Your face is hot enough to boil rain. You shake your head. It's too difficult to explain. 
Hotch ushers you into his solid chest. “It's okay,” he says, patting your back gently. “Don't worry about it.” 
“I want us to be like everyone else,” you confess. 
“We are. You're not the first woman to get nervous about the idea of intimacy, sweetheart, I promise. And I'm not the first man to make a bad joke about contraceptives.” He laughs as you laugh, two huffing chuckles as he presses his lips to the top of your head. “You can take as much time as you need to get used to the idea, and if it's still weird when you're ready, does it matter? We'll be weird about it together. Or we won't be. Okay?” 
“Yeah, okay… thank you, Aaron.” 
“I waited a long, long time for this,” he says, giving your back a pointed little squeeze. “And it's more than I ever thought I'd get. I'm not worried about the rest. I'm in no rush, and you shouldn't be either.” 
You hide your face in his chest for a while, somehow more embarrassed than when you'd started. He draws lines up and down your back with his palm patiently. “It's okay,” he says again, kissing the side of your face. After a moment, he encourages your head back with a hand on your cheek, checking your expression carefully before leaning in for a kiss. His hair tickles your forehead. 
To your relief, it doesn't make you nervous. He probably never could, not when he's touching you so softly. 
You're feeling a hundred times better when you pull away. A tad mortified still, but relieved to know your struggle with talking about it isn't a turn off. If he can stick with you through this bump in the road, you can try, at least, to overcome it. 
“Is lube really thirty two dollars?” you ask in a whisper. 
“I don't know. I've never needed it.” 
He spends the next ten minutes laughing and apologising sincerely as steam pours out of your ears. 
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il-miele-che-scrive · 1 month
Note
Could you do something with Lewis, maybe reader and Lewis have been dating for a while but she’s famous too so they kept things really private, but they got married over the winter break and now the other drivers are finding out
Hello 🫶 lately I've been doing more smaus so I decided to make this one a smau also, hoping you'll like it 🩷
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yourusername I still haven't gotten used to seeing myself on those huge ads
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georgerussell63 A supermodel and an actress not being used to seeing herself in ads? 🤨
↳yourusername When was the last time you were walking down the street and saw a picture of you casually hanging on a building? 🤨 Let me tell you it always takes you by surprise, George
carmenmmundt How are you so beautiful? 😭
↳yourusername I love you Carmen 😭
oscarpiastri Good job, Y/n👏
danielricciardo What an abundance of beauty you are
landonorris an amazing day to have eyes
charles_leclerc Can't take my eyes off you
zhouguanyu24 You haven't posted in months and that's what you decided to post?🙄
↳username1 AND SHE ATE
carlossainz55 See you in Vegas soon 👋
tchalamet You busy lately? We haven't been in a movie together for a while
↳username2 Co-star rizz lmao
username3 It's so weird to me how Y/n is the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen and she's SINGLE
↳username4 It's her choice
username3 And she made it while having f1 drivers and timothee casually flirting with her in the comment section
username4 Doesn't seem that much like flirting to me 🤷‍♀️ she's friends with Carmen and George so she's gonna have the drivers in her comments. And Tim is like her bestie
username3 Are you blind 😭 okay maybe Oscar's comment is friendly, but the rest is definitely flirting!!
username4 Whatever feeds your delusions I guess. I don't think she's single, she might just be keeping her relationship super private. Exactly because of fans like you
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yourusername Nothing beats a date in Las Vegas
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username1 A DATE. IN VEGAS.
username2 Okay guys, which driver do we think took her on the date?
↳username3 I'm saying Lando, it's a very Lando thing to do
username4 imo he was too busy healing from this terrible crash he had lmao
username5 Plus Lando is too young for her, I'd say Danny Ric
username4 yooo y/n and danny would be a great couple, I hope you're right
username6 Do you guys remember what Carlos commented under her previous post?? "See you in Vegas" or smth
↳username4 yeah but it could be just because she was invited to the paddock
username6 Like usually. But did you ever see any driver say anything like see you there and there before other races?
carmenmmundt YOU WENT ON A DATE?
↳georgerussell63 @/yourusername reply immediately and say who took you
yourusername Mom, dad, I'm terribly sorry I didn't tell you 😭
carmenmmundt This doesn't answer our questions...
↳username1 Help even they didn't know lol
username7 It could be anybody, guys. Y/n has most of the drivers in her likes
↳username2 Then maybe it's someone who isn't in the likes? 🤭
username7 Well, then we have Alonso, Bottas, Hamilton and a few others, it doesn't make it easier
username3 She'll say who it is when they're both ready but I wish it would happen as soon as possible
username9 LMAO none of the guys from the previous post commented now
↳username5 She just subtly told them too f off cuz she's taken 😭
username8 I can't wait until the winter break, I know something is gonna happen...
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yourusername He made me get my first tattoo lol
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username1 WHAT?? IS?? HAPPENING??
↳username2 idk looks like miss girl moved, got a tattoo and then decided to travel around 😐
carmenmmundt When are we going to talk about who is "he"?
↳yourusername When the timing is right ✨
georgerussell63 Whoever he is, he's a bad influence on you 🙄
↳yourusername Mom can you tell dad to quit my comment section @/carmenmmundt
username3 Y/n moved to Monaco 😭
↳username4 And how do you know that?
username3 Haven't you heard she was seen there?
username4 And? Celebs love Monaco
username3 Exactly. So she moved there. Possibly with her secret boyfriend
username5 Okay so what we know about Y/n's secret man is they live together in Monaco, he could be an F1 driver and he must have tattoos (because why would he make her get one otherwise?)
↳username6 IT'S DANNY RIC I'M TELLING Y'ALL
username7 Well there's also Hamilton who has quite a lot of tattoos
username8 And Alonso and Stroll, she didn't say how many tattoos her bf has, could be as well one or two
username5 Don't forget some drivers might have them hidden and never spoke about them
username9 To be fair she didn't say if he has any in general lol
danielricciardo What about a party in the new apartment?
↳username6 Yeah, keep telling me it's not him
↳yourusername Most likely when I'm back from my lil vacation
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lewishamilton Winter break
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username1 EXCUSE ME
username2 SIR LEWIS HAMILTON, EXPLAIN THE LAST PHOTO
username3 Don't panic, guys, it is me in the 4th pic
username4 I know he's an almost 40 years old man but I'm still shocked
username5 ngl that woman's hand looks familiar...
username6 Not even a tag on the last pic? 😕
username7 Silly season starting early this year 😭
↳username4 Yeah, firstly he dropped the bomb about moving to Ferrari and now THIS
username7 Man said lemme dominate this winter break 🤠
landonorris congrats i guess?
carlossainz55 Unexpected but happy for you!
georgerussell63 I'm calling Toto, you're lucky he doesn't have social media
username8 I can't believe he kept it a secret from all the drivers lol
↳username7 And for so long too!! I mean, you don't marry someone you started dating a month ago, it could've been going on for YEARS
charles_leclerc When will we meet this mysterious lady?
↳lewishamilton I'm sure you all know her well
↳username7 Leclerc better stay away 🤺
username9 You guys don't ever know how sure I am that it's Y/n
↳username10 I won't believe it until they confirm it
username9 Yeah because it's a total coincidence Y/n recently moved to Monaco, got a tattoo because "her bf made her" and also went on a trip
yourusername Shik shak shok
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username1 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT
username2 The couple I never knew I needed
username3 Two fashion icons
username4 Honestly is anyone surprised? Like, okay, unexpected, but I'm not surprised Lewis is dating one of the most famous models/actresses in the world
↳username5 I am surprised tbh 😭 I think a lot of people expected DR3, not LH44
username6 rip to all the drivers who used to hit on Y/n in her comment section 💀
username7 So Y/n is dating LH44 and is best friends with the girlfriend of GR63?
↳username8 She copied her lol
username7 Except Carmen's bf hasn't ever won the world champion title lmao
↳username9 That's a real friendship. Going for drivers from the same team
username10 I need to know how did they mange to keep it a secret for so long 😭
↳username11 Yeah cuz I can't believe even Toto himself had no idea
username12 Something about them being married makes so much sense, I love them
username13 Imagine when we start seeing them doing ads together omg
↳username14 ads? 💀 now that they're out and married I expect lots of content together on both their accounts AND on Drive to survive and just anywhere
username11 tbh who cares about the races, they can just display Y/n on the screen for 2h and I'd watch
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y/nhamilton btw we used to date but now we're just married (and thanks @/zhouguanyu24 for keeping our secret)
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carmenmmundt I was just as shocked as the fans
landonorris somehow I'm not surprised Zhou knew
↳username1 And he knew about both THIS and Lewis moving to Ferrari!! And kept quiet both times!
↳charles_leclerc I wonder what else Zhou knows that we don't
username2 Zhou Guanyu is officially the most trustworthy guy on the grid
↳username3 And I thought it'd be Oscar...
username4 Does it mean more iconic Y/n outfits on the paddock? 😍
↳y/nhamilton And matching outfits! 🤭
username2 Oh they're gonna kill it!!
username5 I need a friend like Zhou
zhouguanyu24 You're welcome 😌
↳y/nhamilton 🫶
↳lewishamilton 💜
username6 I never thought about Lewis and Zhou being friends, but...?
username7 in moments like this I go look at the old posts where other drivers would flirt with Y/n lmao
username8 This winter break belongs to Lewis
oscarpiastri Lewis' last name suits you
↳landonorris it would've been funny to see Lew change his last name to hers tho lol
carlossainz55 How long have you been together?
↳y/nhamilton Something like 5 years now
carlossainz55 And none of us knew all this time 😳
y/nhamilton Zhou knew... I've just said that
username9 All the other drivers immediately regretting everything they said under other Y/n's posts hahahah
781 notes · View notes
starxxkitty · 1 month
Text
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
Vulnerable
Sub!Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader⭑*•⊱•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
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☆ Word Count: 750
☆ Warnings: Pure smut, p in v, cursing, begging, No use of y/n
☆ A/N: Hey guys!! I'm so sorry that I haven't posted in a while, I was caught up in a shit ton of work and I was procrastinating so hard😭😭For those who requested, I promise I'm not ignoring you!! I'm working on a few fics, but for now, I decided to write a little something while I continue finishing up the other things:3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
Mike hated vulnerability. He was always so closed off, the idea of being so exposed made him sick.
Or at least that’s what he would say if he wasn’t a whining mess underneath you. Slick cunt sucking him in, your body flushed against his. 
He was unable to think straight, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure and attempted to recall his dislike for being so open, he couldn’t. Not when you were so close, infiltrating his senses, face going soft as you moved up and down. 
“Please—f-fuck..” God he could hardly speak, breathy moans doing nothing to wash away the stirring desire between the both of you. His weak attempts to form any coherent sentence failed miserably, nothing falling from his mouth but those whiny groans as he tipped his head back in ecstasy.
You admired how pretty he looked, eyes screwed shut as he gripped the sheets under him in desperation. “Mike..Touch me.” His name rolled off your tongue so sweetly, those simple words lulling him further into his dizzy haze.
Jaw slack, he couldn’t stop the soft whimpers spewing from him, hesitantly grasping at your waist. It was almost impossible to ignore the way he held you as you fought back a moan. He stretched you out in a way nobody else could, reaching spots that you fantasized about late at night with your hands between your thighs. Taking in the sight, your ego was through the roof as you fucked him dumb. 
He was long gone, desperate pleas mixed with his faltering thrusts, it was clear that he was drunk off your body and loving every moment of it. The sound of you squeezing around his cock only added to those filthy sounds spewing from him, mouth parted at that blissed-out feeling. 
Gasping as your fingers tugged at his hair, he could only focus on the way he felt inside of you. “C’mon sweet boy, look at me.” You whispered, “Gotta stay quiet, yeah?” Trying to respond, his mind went fuzzy with your pretty lips just above his. “I—“ Voice breaking into a whine as your hips rolled against him so perfectly, “I’m trying.” Biting down on his lip, the attempts to be silent were useless, doing nothing to muffle those pathetic sounds.
Leaning back, your fingers dipped between your legs; pressing against your sensitive clit. The sight made his head go numb, hands dropping to your hips, too weak to do anything but admire you. It was clear that he couldn’t stay quiet, not when you slowed down like that, putting yourself on display as he watched himself disappear into your cunt.
“Fuckk..“ He moaned, burying his face into your neck, in an attempt to hide his humiliation. “Please..” Pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin, his whines muffled as he went dizzy from the sweet taste of you. “Please baby, please,” He couldn’t do anything but grip your plush skin in desperation, “God I’m so close…keep going. I need you, please I—fuck I need you so badly.” Fingers digging into your body, he was too lost in pleasure to care about the sounds spilling from him. That familiar knot building up from his mindless mumbling.
“You wanna cum for me?” Your voice was tantalizing, a weak nod being the only thing he could muster, groaning at the feeling of you pulling at his hair again, “Then let me see you.” Nervously, his eyes met yours, completely blissed out as he held himself back from spilling over the edge. Your hands trailed down to cup his face, speeding up as his hips stuttered. “I’m—“ Head falling back against pillows behind him, his words faltered, the prettiest sounds spewing from his lips. Quickly covering his mouth, that pussy drunk expression had your head spinning.
“God you’re so fucking loud,” You breathed out, gripping his slack jaw. He couldn’t even respond, desperately looking up at you with those glossed-over eyes. “You feel so good.” He whined, lips chasing yours before catching them in a needy kiss, mind dumb from pleasure. 
You slid your fingers down his chest with a sigh, “Who knew you were so noisy.” The teasing edge laced through your words had him looking away, lost in the intoxicating proximity of your body against his.
If being vulnerable meant getting to fuck you like this, then maybe it wasn’t so bad.
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