#Insecure Site Notification

[solvedesigncreate]

What is an SSL Certificate? Does your business need one? (Https vs Http)

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[ramp-it-up]

Boss

Next part: Bossed

Summary: Your boss, Henry Cavill, is CEO of a company that changes lives. He is also a bit of a jerk. None of that stops you from being in love with him. And he with you.

Pairing: Ceo!Henry Cavill x reader au

A/N: I think Henry Cavill is a beautiful man, idc, idc. He is the faceclaim to my fantasies. Today. Big props to @nissaimmortal for tolerating my lust in her inbox and giving advice. Here it is. Read, react, alladat, please. :) I am fed through your interactions, so please like, comment and reblog. I live for that shit.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Idiots in love, slow burn, mutual pining, age gap. Angst, a tinge of lonliness, no work/life balance, jerk Henry, slightly insecure, but smart reader. Jealous Henry, references to male masturbation, wild thoughts on both of your parts, references to oral sex (f receiving), whoo boy, the kiss. And the challenge.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

You never meant for this to happen.

You were just practicing self care in the season of love. 

The flowers weren’t for anyone but you, a way to remind yourself that you were worth it, even if no one else thought that. 

You knew the office would be flooded with bouquets today, desks overflowing with flowers, cards, and candies. It was the one happenstance of your first whirlwind month on the job that stuck with you.

You vowed that your desk wouldn’t be empty this year, and no one would look at you with pity while asking you what you were doing that night. 

So you sent flowers to yourself. 

They were nothing dramatic, just some pretty little pink peonies and roses with a card that you’d written to yourself.

But Henry, your boss, your gruff, frustrating, inspiring, six-foot-two, broad-shouldered, dark haired, storm-eyed asshole of a boss, apparently, didn’t see it that way. 

—--

You’d worked for Henry for a little over 14 months, and there had been a tension between you since your interview when he just sat there and stared at you as if you were some alien sent from a distant world. 

Despite that, he grilled you about your personal vision, told you he admired your qualifications and you were hired. 

What ensued was a year of hard, but gratifying work with a company that valued diversity and helping the planet. Henry Cavil was the CEO of that company, and as his assistant, you weren’t just a glorified secretary. 

You were right-hand to changing the world.

Henry seemed to care for nothing but work, and was professional to the point of extreme with you, even when you two worked late and long hours side by side.

Holidays were unimportant to him, weekends were just another day, and he didn’t seem to notice that you might feel differently.

You didn’t, but it would have been nice to have been asked.

It would have been nice if he noticed you as a human, if he asked about your family, what you liked to do in your free time....Whatever that was. 

And sometimes, you looked up to see him looking at you as if he were going to ask about one of those things, but in each instance, he just looked back down to what he was working on, continuing with the discussion at hand. 

You let it slide, because being by his side was all that you wanted. Even if he just tolerated you. 

Because you were in love with him. Since the moment before he offered you the job at the end of your interview. 

You could help millions of people around the world, but you couldn’t help yourself from falling in love with Henry, a man at least ten years your senior who was emotionally unavailable.

You were a sad case.

Your boss was your secret obsession, the man who’d starred in your most delicious fantasies for far too long. 

But Henry would never take a second look at you romantically. 

You were doll-sized next to him, you’re too nerdy, too curvy, and too headstrong to be the kind of compliant arm candy that you heard he went for. You were destined to pine for your boss with the superhero looks, destined to be the sidekick in the romance of his life.

—---

Henry had been in torment for 14 months 12 days, and 7 hours, the moment you walked into his office for your interview. And he’d been in love with you for 14 months, 12 days, 6 hours and 45 minutes.

But he vowed that you should never know how he felt while sentencing himself to the daily torture of working side by side with you every day.

He tried to put you out of his head, but his favorite thing was to send you ahead of him to meetings and to fall in behind you on the long walk to the boardroom, your sumptuous ass giving him lots of spank bank material. 

Every night he went home to shower, fuck his hand, and paint the tiled wall with copious amounts of spend as he thought of the way you looked that day and your adorable little quirks: 

The faint smiles you gave him when you thought he wasn’t looking. 

How you nibbled on that fucking sexy bottom lip when you were deep in thought and gazing at him, or hunched over your laptop and typing away. 

The way that you walked, those tempting curves of yours that made him ache to throw you over his shoulder and have his way with you.

Henry had ordered you the finest oak desk that he could find during your first week on the job. The glass one in the office was fine, but would be a bit flimsy in the off chance that he should throw you over it and eat you out until his jaw was sore and until your voice grew hoarse from screaming his name.

You’d been the fire in his blood for the entire time he’d known you, and he couldn’t help himself from being irretrievably under your spell.

But instead of telling you that, for the last 14 months, he'd settled for every minute that he could wring from you for work, because there could never be anything more than that.

—---

This evening, Henry had stopped in your office doorway with menus for dinner, when he saw the flowers and crossed his arms over his huge chest.

Your eyes slid down his form, noticing how the sleeves of his crisp white button down strained around his biceps, the vest he was wearing highlighted the thick inverted triangle of his body, and his dark slacks hugged his muscular thighs. 

It should be illegal for him to look that fucking good, especially at this hour in the evening, on this night of love. You looked up at him, at his dark eyebrows drawn together over those piercing blue eyes, looking at the bouquet like it personally insulted him. 

Then he looked at you.

There was heat in his gaze, something that made your toes curl in your heels, and for a moment you were frozen. Damn, he was hot, especially when he was perturbed. 

"Who sent them?"

His deep voice was low and calm, but there was a dangerous edge to his sexy ass British accent. Goosebumps raised on your skin.

You were caught between confusion and a being flustered from direct attention from him. He usually avoided eye contact and more than a few grunts at a time, so this was new.

Henry was always intimidating, but tonight, he was also extra attractive, with his tie loosened, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his dark curls slightly messy as if he'd been running his hands through it.

Oh, and it didn’t help that his jaw was clenching and his blue eyes seemed to be burning.

"Excuse me?" you asked, keeping your voice as neutral as possible. 

You were tired, but there was a deadline to meet, despite the fact that this was a night for lovers. 

You two were the perfect pair to still be at work, because you were the furthest thing from romantics. You and Henry were workaholics, dedicated to your job, with no time for love.

Henry’s gaze flicked to the small card nestled between the flowers. 

You knew exactly what it said.

You are desirable. You are unforgettable. You deserve to be loved the way you love others.

A self-affirmation just for you. Something no one else was supposed to see.

But when Henry read it, he mistook the meaning.

"So who is he?"

His look was dark and his eyes were stormy, causing your stomach to drop.

"What?"

Henry’s fists clenched at his sides. 

"The person who sent these. The one who wrote you that." 

His voice dropped lower, like he was trying to hold back something. 

"Who. Is. He?"

You realized that he thought you had someone. And he sounded jealous. But that would be…

No. It was impossible. 

Your pulse became erratic with the thought

Henry was always particular: demanding, impatient, exacting. But he was also never unfair and never once let you fail. He always pushed you to be better and gave you glowing performance reviews, even when his actions conveyed that you were the most frustrating person on the planet to him.

You always assumed that he just tolerated you. That you annoyed him. But at the moment, he looked like a man barely holding himself together because he thought someone else had sent you flowers.

This was a development.

Before you could respond, Henry stepped closer to you. You tilted your head back to gaze up at him towering over you, broad and built like a damn brick wall. One that you wanted and needed to climb. 

"You didn’t answer me," he murmured, voice rough. Boy, those eyes could chill you to the bone.

"Why do you care?"

You were perturbed now, and it was clear in your response. 

Henry’s jaw ticked and something flashed in his eyes, there and gone too quickly for you to analyze.

“Careful, Little One.”

He’d never called you that, so you cocked your head with curiosity and watched as he sat on the edge of your desk, hiking his pants up on his legs, showcasing his massive thighs, and yes, the long, thick rod between them. 

Your eyebrows shot up and your eyes went wide, too surprised at his words and actions to pull the well-practiced mask over your features.

Henry caught you looking, but you didn’t catch the way his mouth hooked up in a half smile at your reaction. 

You licked your lips and watched as his hand moved slowly upward, until he was brushing his fingers over the petals of one of the roses. The act felt intimate, like he was imagining something else beneath his fingertips. 

Or maybe you were the one imagining.

“You deserve to be loved the way you love others," he repeated, more softly. 

He gazed at you, eyes blazing. 

"And you think this guy, whoever he is, can give you that?"

Your throat went dry. You should’ve just told him the truth. But you didn’t.

Because you knew he was jealous. And he was about to lose it. And you wanted to see what happened when he did. 

You chucked your chin up at him, a challenge.

"And what if he can?"

Henry knew he was pathetic because you were his employee, and he had no claim to you, no right to feel possessive at the thought of you with another man. 

But that didn’t stop him from wanting to track down the mutherfucker that sent you those flowers and beat him to a bloody pulp. And that didn't stop him from wanting to grab you and kiss you until you realized that you were fucking his. 

That you’d always been his, from the moment you first looked him in the eye.

The air between you crackled with energy as his entire body tensed as he stood up again, those massive hands curling into fists like he was restraining himself from something. His jaw flexed, his breath deepened, and he reached out for you, hand on your waist, drawing you in to press you against his very solid body. 

And then Henry’s mouth was on yours, hot and demanding and so fucking perfect that you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but give in.

You grunted in surprise as his full lips pressed on yours and his delicious tongue slid inside your mouth. All of your senses came alive in a cacophony of sight, taste, smell, and sound. And of course, touch.

You let yourself melt into his kiss, reaching up and tugging at the soft curls rioting over his collar, and then he pulled back, panting. His hand came up to wipe the moisture from your lips with his thumb, which he then inserted into his mouth and kept eye contact with you as he suckled his digit.

You imagined those lips doing the same to various points on your body and you nearly swooned, especially when he pulled his thumb out with a plop and then released you. 

Henry stepped back, baring his teeth in a dangerous smile. 

Your mind was scrambled, but you knew one thing for certain: Henry was attracted to you. Just as much as you were attracted to him.

Who would have thunk?

Henry adjusted his cuffs, highlighting those distracting veins on the back of his hands. He nodded at the flowers, then at you, a dangerous smile on his lips.

"Hope he’s ready to compete," he murmured, leaving you stunned.

“Get your coat, we’re going out to dinner tonight.”

And then he walked back into his office, leaving you staring after him, heart slamming against your ribs, lips feeling swollen and bruised from the kiss.

You had no idea what those flowers just unleashed in him. 

But you were about to find out.

——-

Next part: Bossed

[fireya-x]

hold me close and tell me that it's real

【 AO3 Link (full tag list) || masterlist 】 ✦ John Price x Reader ✦ A message to a wrong number turns out to be just perfectly right. ✦ 4.7k words ✦ tags/cw: smut, neighbor!price, wrong number, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, strangers to lovers, aftercare

The bathroom air, thick with steam, clung to the cool tiles. The fogged mirror reflected a distorted image of you, a silhouette emerging from the swirling mist. You’d agonized over which photo to send the firefighter from Tinder, meticulously staging it until your body was just visible enough through the hazed mirror, the outline of your body a clear invitation. Biting your lip, a nervous blush warmed your cheeks. You usually weren’t one for such blatant displays of… yourself. 

But tonight, something felt different. Reckless. Desperate, even. Maybe it was the gnawing loneliness that had been settling in your bones lately — a constant, dull ache that no amount of casual encounters seemed to alleviate — that made you reckless. 

You reached for your phone and began typing a casual message, trying to sound as flirty and inviting as possible. Attaching the photo, you hesitated, chewing on your lower lip, a familiar wave of self-doubt washing over you.  

Was this too much? Would he even be interested? Was your body even desirable enough?  

You’d always been self-conscious about your curves and softness, comparing yourself to the impossibly thin, toned figures gracing the pages of magazines, the women who seemed to attract the attention and affection you craved effortlessly. The string of meaningless dates, the empty encounters that had left you feeling more hollow than fulfilled, had only amplified your insecurities.  

You’re not enough. You’re too much. You’ll never find someone who truly wants all of you.

He was attractive, yes, this firefighter, with rugged handsomeness, but something still felt off. He wasn't him. He wasn't John Price, your enigmatic, handsome neighbor who sometimes fed your cat, whose presence electrified the air, sending a ripple of awareness through your senses whenever he was near. You’d always found him incredibly attractive, a silent, secret yearning simmering beneath the surface of your polite, neighborly interactions. But the brief, almost impersonal conversations you’d shared – about preferred cat food, the best local dry cleaner, the noise from the construction site down the street – had led you to believe that he saw you as nothing more than a friendly face in the hallway, a helpful neighbor. Certainly not someone he’d ever be interested in. 

But you couldn’t help it. Those stolen glimpses of him – carrying groceries, his strong hands gripping the bags, shirtless after he was out running or repairing his motorbike, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the worn leather of his jacket – were seared into your memory, each a silent, secret fantasy. John Price, with the fine lines etched into his face by age and experience, the crinkles around his eyes whenever he smiled, the intense gaze that seemed to see right through you, the sometimes rough beard you longed to touch, the effortless kindness that radiated from him — he was everything the men you'd dated were not.

Still, he was a mystery, a silent, smoldering ember that had been slowly igniting a fire within you for months. A fire you’d diligently tried to extinguish, knowing, or rather believing, that it would never be reciprocated.

You hit send. 

Your stomach plummeted. No. Panic seized you, your heart pounding against your ribs like a trapped bird. You scrambled for your phone, your fingers damp, desperately trying to undo the unthinkable, but the dreaded "Delivered" notification appeared on the screen. 

Mortification washed over you, hot and stinging, a tidal wave of shame threatening to drown you in its intensity. You sank to the bathroom floor, naked and now shaking, the forgotten towel a crumpled heap beside you. The stinging cold bathroom tiles against your skin seemed to mock your misery, amplifying your sense of utter humiliation. Your breath hitched in your throat, a strangled sob escaping your lips.

The text had been delivered to John, not Josh from Tinder - your damned clumsy fingers hit the wrong recipient. 

Then, a soft vibration against your thigh. Your phone.

John: Well, hello there. I wasn't expecting this kind of payment for occasionally feeding your cat. 

A wave of heat flooded your cheeks, the blush burning against your skin. He was teasing you. Of course, he was. He was probably laughing at you, finding your blatant display of desperation pathetic. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the bathroom tiles and cease to exist.

You: oh my god, john. i am so incredibly sorry. this was a complete accident. wrong number!! i can’t believe this happened

John: An accident? How disappointing. I am rather enjoying the view.

You: i should have checked correctly. i’m so sorry

You: i'm so mortified

You: i’ll find someone else to look after Milo

You: i am so so sorry

John: Mortified? Don't be. You look beautiful. Breathtaking, actually.

You didn’t know what to say. Was he being serious? Or was he just toying with you, enjoying your discomfort? You couldn’t tell; his tone was so carefully neutral. Then, another text.

John: Lucky guy who was supposed to receive that photo. 

You: just another date. nothing special. who knows

You typed back, trying to sound nonchalant, but your fingers trembled on the keyboard.

John: Are they treating you right, at least?

The question, so unexpected, so caring , caught you off guard. A lump formed in your throat, and the casual encounters of the past few months suddenly felt even more hollow and meaningless than ever.

You: sometimes

You replied, just a single word,  yet it was heavy with unspoken longing for something better.

John: Tell me, what was the plan with that photo?

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. How could you explain the desperate want you felt sometimes, to be needed, to be loved, to be seen?

You: i don’t know… i just hoped it would make him want me 

The words tumbled out, raw and vulnerable.

John: Do you want to be wanted, love?

The question, so simple, so direct, pierced through your defenses, striking deep within you. Your body was aching for a touch that had always seemed just out of reach. You’d craved it, yes, the feeling of being wanted, of being desired, but the encounters you’d had, the fleeting moments of intimacy, had never truly satisfied that yearning.

Instead, they’d only left you feeling emptier, more alone.

You: yes

You cringed inwardly at the desperation you put forward without hesitation. There was a small silence before your phone buzzed again.

John: I’d kiss away the water drops from your sweet tits to show you just how much I’d want you.

Your eyes went wide, a blush, hot and intense, flooded your cheeks at his boldness. You certainly hadn’t expected a text like that . 

You took a deep breath.

He wasn’t just toying with you. He was serious. This wasn’t happening. Was it?

Another vibration of your phone.

John: Tell me what you want, love.

And then, the dam broke. All the pent-up desires, the unspoken longings, the secret fantasies you’d harbored for so long came pouring out in a torrent of words.

You: your hands on me… your mouth. everywhere

John: What a coincidence. I want to worship your gorgeous body.

You: i want to feel your lips on mine, your tongue exploring my mouth… 

A shiver ran down your spine as you typed the words, the image vivid in your mind.

John: Another coincidence, because I want to taste you, love. Every inch of you.

You: id lie if i said i have never thought about how you’d feel inside me before

You: you’d probably feel so good

Why did you tell him that? You didn’t know. The thought simply sent a wave of heat through your core. Any shame that was supposed to be there was long gone. 

John: Fuck. I wish you could feel how hard you make me.

You: i wish i could

The three dots appeared on the screen again, promising another text from him. You stared at them with an intensity that bordered on obsession, your heart pounding with anticipation. What would he say next? What would he do? The dots danced again, then vanished, leaving you suspended in silence.

A sudden, sharp knock on your door echoed through the quiet apartment, and your heart leapt. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing the towel and wrapping it hastily around yourself. 

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest and your hand hovering over the doorknob. Then, taking a deep breath, you slowly opened the door.

John Price. Filling your doorway, his eyes dark with a desire that mirrored your own, his breathing ragged. He didn’t speak, didn't give you time to even register his arrival completely – the second the door was open, he reached for you, pulling you against him, his lips crashing against yours in a hungry, demanding kiss that stole your breath away.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice rough against your lips, his hands roaming over your body, mapping every curve, every inch of exposed skin. 

“You feel that?” He murmured against your lips, grinding his hips against yours, his erection pressing hard against your stomach. “That’s all you, love.”

Your mind went blank. You couldn't speak, only moan softly as his lips trailed down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin below your ear, his beard scratching the soft skin along the path. Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, your fingers digging into the taut muscles beneath his shirt. You reached lower, grabbing him through his pants, desperate for more contact. He groaned, a low rumble of pure lust that echoed through you, making every nerve ending in your body sing.

“Mm, I’ve dreamt about touching you like this,” he groaned and pulled away, reaching behind him and closing the door, then carefully started walking forward while holding onto you, pushing you towards your bedroom with long strides, barely holding back himself. His hands were now ripping his clothes off and then your towel, leaving you completely naked in front of him – but you didn’t even register any of that. If you did, you probably wouldn’t care anyway.

He wasted no time, pushing you gently onto the bed, his body following quickly after. His weight was comforting and, at the same time, exhilarating. His lips found yours, hungry and demanding but with a tenderness that surprised you. It wasn't just lust; it was something more, something deeper. A connection you hadn't expected, but now, in this moment, felt undeniable. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the muscles dance beneath his skin. 

It just felt right. Like a culmination of all the stolen glances, the unspoken desires, the secret admiration you'd harbored for so long.

Never in a million years had you thought he’d think about you the same way.

He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck again. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin. "So fucking perfect.” His words sent a shiver down your spine. No one had ever spoken to you like this, with such raw, unfiltered adoration. It made you feel beautiful, desirable, worthy in a way you hadn't before.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his gaze intense, drinking in the sight of your naked body beneath him. A blush crept up your neck, a mixture of shyness and excitement. Then, his gaze dropped lower, his eyes dark and hungry as he settled between your legs. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, anticipation coiling in your belly. His hands framed your hips, his fingers tracing the delicate skin of your inner thighs, sending shivers dancing across your skin. He leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over your core, making your muscles clench in anticipation. The tip of his tongue darted out, a tentative touch that sent a jolt of electricity straight to your clit. You gasped, your hips lifting involuntarily towards him. 

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, and then he delved deeper, his mouth working its magic, his tongue and lips creating a symphony of sensations. 

He knew exactly what he was doing, his rhythm building, the pressure increasing, his tongue a skilled artist painting pleasure across your most sensitive flesh. “John,” you moaned, his name a breathy whisper escaping your lips, a plea for more. He hummed against you, a low, guttural sound of approval. You tangled your fingers in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last. His tongue and lips worked tirelessly until your body tensed and balanced at the edge of release. 

And then, with a final, exquisite flick of his tongue, he sent you spiralling over the edge. You came hard, your body convulsing around his mouth, your cries unfiltered and shamelessly loud, a release so intense it left you breathless and trembling, your mind a blissful blank.

He rose, his eyes dark with satisfaction, a triumphant glint in their depths. Before he moved higher, though, his fingers dipped between your legs, testing your wetness. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking them slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. A warm thrill coursed through your body at the sight, a tingling sensation that ran along your spine. 

He leaned in, his body hovering over yours, his lips meeting yours in a deep, lingering kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue, the flavor intoxicating, a tangible reminder of the pleasure he'd just brought you – the combination of the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm and the feel of his lips on yours, his taste mingled with your own, was almost too much to bear.

As his tongue explored your mouth, he moved between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance. With a soft groan, he pushed inside, slowly, carefully, his kiss deepening as he filled you. 

It was a perfect fit, a seamless joining of two bodies, punctuated by soft moans and your mingled breaths. 

And then, he began to move, his rhythm slow and steady, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, your moans soft against his lips. It was almost… loving. A gentle exploration, a tender dance between two lost souls connecting.

Suddenly, you felt his hands explore your folds, gently touching our clit, wandering down below where your bodies connected – before a finger pressed against your other hole – and your breath hitched. 

He seemed to notice your reaction and chuckled lightly. He stopped moving to look right into your eyes. “Tell me, did any of the Tinder boys ever fuck you here?” He put more pressure on your asshole, seeking entrance, and your entire world almost fell apart.

“No…,” you whispered, voice shaky. “No one ever has.”

“Good,” he growled, his voice thick with possessiveness. “Because I will, and I don't want anyone else touching you from this day forward. You're mine .”

He moved, his thrusts deep and powerful, his whispers raw and possessive, filling your ears with words of praise and adoration that made your heart ache with a happiness you’d never known. The way he moved within you, each thrust increasingly more intense – it was a declaration of his claim. You arched beneath him, your body molding to his, your moans a demonstration of the pleasure, echoing through the room. A heat bloomed within you, spreading through your limbs, pooling in your core, a fire ignited by his touch, his words, his sheer presence. 

You accepted your fate of being his, completely and utterly his, captured and taken - and yet in that moment, helpless and surrendered to the intoxicating power of his possession, you’d never felt so free .

He continued to thrust, his rhythm relentless, his body a perfect complement to yours, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, your nails raking across his skin, leaving marks that mirrored the ones he was leaving on your soul. The world narrowed to the space between your bodies, the sound of your mingled breaths, the raw, unfiltered pleasure that was consuming you both.

Then, just as you felt yourself on the precipice of release, he pulled out, leaving you achingly empty, a void where his warmth and hardness had been just moments before. A whimper escaped your lips, a soft sound of protest, of longing. He turned you over, his hands gentle but firm, guiding you onto your stomach. A shiver of anticipation and a nervous thrill ran through you as you felt his breath hot against your ear, his voice a husky whisper that sent goosebumps rippling across your skin.

“Do you have any lube, love? I want this to be perfect for you.”

You nodded, barely able to point toward your nightstand. Your entire body trembled endlessly, not knowing if it came from pure arousal and lust or this unexplainable affection you felt towards him — how considerate he was with your pleasure and, more so, with your comfort. It left you speechless and breathless, exposed and bare, and longing to never come down from this high, no matter how hard the fall would eventually become. 

You silently cursed yourself and the universe for not letting you know there had been a connection between you so much earlier, so you could have been spared all the emptiness and loneliness the fleeting encounters with other men always left behind.

He reached for the nightstand drawer, pulling out a small tube of lubricant. He looked you directly in your eyes – it felt like an unspoken vow, a wordless agreement to give yourself to one another in the deepest possible sense. It felt utterly intimate – to let him , a man you were so painfully shy with just moments ago, perform such an act… how strange the universe worked – and how intensely right it all felt.

His touch was gentle as he lubricated his fingers, one after another, and then reached behind you – so carefully circling your puckered entrance, making you moan softly in surprise and wonder at the completely new feelings. It felt like being touched for the first time in places nobody ever cared to explore – let alone so masterfully gentle and knowing like this. A mix of strange anticipation, embarrassment, and the sheer thrill of being touched by this man sent shivers through your core.

“So fucking tight,” he murmured, pushing his first finger inside, slick with a mix of lube and your juices, so very gently at first. “Want me to fuck that pretty little hole, love?”

“Yes, please ,” you whined, sounding utterly desperate and shameless. With nobody before, you’d ever begged - yet with John, it slipped from your lips almost naturally. He chuckled, and his mouth twisted in a wicked smile, making your heart race.

He continued to prepare you, adding a second finger, slowly stretching you, his touch both firm and incredibly tender, your entire lower abdomen now twisting and pulling itself down in involuntary anticipation of being filled. You gasped, a small moan escaping from your lips. The feeling of being so tenderly explored made tears spring to your eyes. No one had ever treated you like this, with such reverence, such care. You put your head down on its side, trying to catch a glimpse of him, wondering why or how someone like John Price – the distant, mysterious neighbor who seemed to exist in a world of his own, someone who you deemed out of reach just an hour ago, now took such incredible, passionate care of you , making you feel precious . It was almost too much to handle, each gentle stroke making you feel more overwhelmed and wanted. It was everything you always fantasized about, what having a lover truly could feel like but never dared believe to be true. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” 

You gasped, your body convulsing, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. But it was a good pain, a delicious, welcome ache, a sensation unlike anything you’d ever experienced. He continued to explore your depths, stretching you, accustoming you to the unfamiliar feeling, his touch patient and understanding. His fingers slowly widened you, his movements deliberate and unhurried, giving you time to adjust, to relax into the sensation. All the while, his other hand was buried between your folds underneath you, and his thumb continued to caress your clit, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body, distracting you from any discomfort, replacing it with a growing anticipation.

“Tell me if it's too much,” he whispered. “I don't want to hurt you.”

His words, his tenderness, his concern for your pleasure, melted away the last of your apprehension. You moaned softly, over and over, your body arching against his touch, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you. 

Then suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the lubed head of his cock, pressing gently against your entrance. “Ready, love?”

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart pounding in your chest. He pushed inside, slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust to his size, his fullness. You gasped, a small cry escaping your lips, but it wasn't pain, not exactly. It was a new sensation, intense and unfamiliar but somehow just right. He paused, waiting for you to relax, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your hip, his touch a silent reassurance. A feeling of belonging settled deep within you, a terrifying, exhilarating connection unfolding between you.

You knew, with certainty, that this would never be the same with anyone else.

He began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, his thrusts deep and powerful, filling you completely. You cried out, your voice a mixture of pleasure and surprise, your body arching against his, desperate for more. He whispered dirty praises against your skin, his words a heady mix of possessiveness and adoration, fueling the fire within you. “You're so fucking tight,” he groaned, “so perfect. All mine.”

With another groan, he pulled you flush against his chest, his arm wrapping tightly around your body, his large hand cupping your breasts, pressing you against him. He held you there and continued to move, but the rhythm changed, becoming a desperate, needy grinding, his hips pushing against yours, the friction building, the intensity escalating. You whimpered again, your head falling back against his shoulder, lost in the overwhelming sensations. It was too much, too intense, too good . You didn’t even know what was real anymore. All you knew was him , the feel of his body against yours, the sound of his breath and his growls in your ear, the raw, unfiltered pleasure that was consuming you.

His other hand moved between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, circling, rubbing, adding to the already overwhelming pleasure. You arched your back, your body writhing against his, your moans growing louder, more desperate. He added two fingers to your slick heat, swirling and stretching you, sending shocks of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. You cried out his name, over and over, lost in the sensations, lost in him.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, “just like that, love. Take it all.”

You shattered, your body convulsing around him, cries mingling with his groans in a symphony of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The release was an explosion of sensation so intense it left you breathless, trembling, mind blissfully blank. He continued to grind against you, each thrust echoing the receding waves of your orgasm. Then, he went still, holding you so tightly against him you forgot how to breathe. The sensation of him pulsating deep inside you, buried within your ass, was exquisitely intimate. It was a connection so profound, so utterly consuming; it sent another ripple of pleasure through your still-sensitive nerves. You felt the warmth of his release, a shared intimacy that brought tears to your eyes. Teeth nipped at your shoulder, followed by a growl that bordered on animalistic, a raw expression of his own pleasure. 

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his arm, holding yourself as close as physically possible as he shuddered through his climax. It was a moment of such raw vulnerability, such complete surrender. 

For a fleeting second, a flicker of fear sparked within you – the fear of losing this connection, this incredible intimacy. 

But he didn't let go. The expected detachment, the sudden chill of loneliness, didn't happen. Instead, he held you close, almost protectively, his arms wrapped tightly around you. His lips brushed against your ear. “You're incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “So fucking incredible.”

His words were a balm to your soul. He hadn't discarded you like the others. He held you as if you were precious, as if you were something to be treasured. You turned in his arms, burying your face in his chest. A warmth spread through you, a deep, abiding sense of peace you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. 

Fear whispered that you were overstepping, that this closeness was too much, too soon, but his arms held you captive.

The self-doubt that had plagued you for so long, the insecurities that had whispered insidious lies in your ear, the ghosts of endless, disappointing dates and fleeting encounters – all of it washed away, cleansed by his touch, his words, his sheer adoration. You held onto him, clinging to him as if he were a lifeline, the only solid thing in a world that had become fluid and uncertain. 

A playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “So,” you murmured against his chest, your voice still shaky, “does this mean I can repay you like this for cat-sitting more often?”

He kissed your temple, a tender gesture that sent a wave of warmth through you. “Love,” he whispered against your hair, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your skin, “Not that it matters, but I'd fuck you for free.” He chuckled. 

“As often as you'll let me." He paused, his breath warm against your ear, and added, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. "In fact, I have a feeling I'm going to need to. And want to. A lot." He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, a possessiveness simmering in their depths. "What's mine," he whispered, his voice low and intense, "is mine."

His words were dark, almost dangerous, but the way he said them, the intensity in his voice, the possessiveness in his gaze, made something deep within you stir.

Belonging. It was a dream you'd almost given up on, a fantasy that had faded with each meaningless date, each disappointing encounter. 

His thumb gently stroked your cheek. “You said those other… dates … they only sometimes treat you right?”

His words, soft yet pointed, pricked at the carefully constructed wall around your heart. You swallowed, suddenly shy again. They… they don’t see me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m just… a body.” You hesitated, then continued, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I miss… talking. Laughing. Being held. Someone who looks at me like… like you just did.”

His face softened, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Then let me show you how you deserve to be treated.”

“Are you going to stay?” you whispered, the question barely audible, scared of his reaction.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze holding yours intensely. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, your fingers finding the short strands of hair at his nape.

“What about your date?”

“You’re better than any date is ever going to be,” you said, the conviction in your voice surprising even yourself. “I never thought you’d… like me this way,” you whispered. 

“I always have,” he confessed, his thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip. “I’ve been dreaming about kissing these lips every time you smile at me in the hallway.” He paused, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “That photo… might have been your best mistake ever."

You smiled a genuine, happy smile that reached your eyes. “Keep it,” you whispered, your heart swelling with a joy that felt excitingly new. “And maybe... send me one back sometime?”

He grinned, a flash of heat in his eyes. “I'll see what I can do.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, his beard prickling against your skin. “Now,” he murmured, “where were we?”

[augustjoy]

What are the chances?

Sneak peek: Aaron and you match on Tinder and have been messaging back and forth over the summer…who’d have thought that meet the teacher night would bring him face to face with the woman he’s been sexting.

Aaron Hotchner x Teacher! Reader

Smut/Fluff

Word count: 5335

I have been writing this for weeks and I’m not sure about it – feedback is welcomed (as long as its constructive) Also I am using personal knowledge of teaching (as I work in a school) if it doesn't match your personal experiences I am sorry. Not edited - please be kind.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, language, sexting, tinder, online dating, explicit description of sexual activity, age gap (legal - Aaron is 45 Reader is 26), unsolicited sexual messages via dm, mentions of Jack, New Girl reference, mentions of school, teaching, insecurities, mentions of cheating, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Your phone buzzing pulled your attention away from the book you’d been reading. The notification illuminating your screen was one that filled you with dread.

You had joined Tinder at the suggestion of your colleague, she claimed that after your last relationship plus the significant amount of time you’ve been single equated to you needing to join the dating app.

This on its own wasn’t what was tying your stomach in knots, that was the fact that since you’d downloaded the god forsaken app you’d received a disturbing amount of unsolicited dick pics. Tonight, however, would bring a positive change. You had swiped right on a particularly handsome man a few days ago and had been silently hoping to match with him ever since. You had honestly given up hope until now.

Swiping over on the notification to launch the app would allow you to remind yourself of how handsome this guy actually was.

“Alright Aaron let’s take another look at this profile” you mumbled to yourself as you slid further down the couch.

Scrolling through his pictures you couldn’t help but smile. He only had three, but they were good. The first picture was a close up of him in a suit, he wore a subtle smile and his eyes looked so inviting. The second picture was him in a black T-shirt he looked as though he’d been laughing or maybe talking, a big grin on his face. The third photo…this one left your mouth dry. He’d clearly been on a golf course, the photo taken without his knowledge, but his arms…the way they were flexed and the veins that bulged in his forearms and hands. God the thoughts you had about what he could do with those hands.

You shook your head, trying to rid your mind of the vulgar thoughts you were having about this perfect stranger. He was hot, you couldn’t deny it, but his bio drew you in even further, it was to the point but definitely had you wanting to know more.

I’m a single dad and a workaholic. I love the Beatles. Looking for something real.

It felt like someone may have guided him through it, but you could tell the sentiment was genuine. He was a single dad and you loved that he wasn’t hiding that. It wasn’t something that would deter you from getting to know him either. You loved kids, that’s why you’d become a teacher.

You had mentioned that in your bio, it was short and sweet and exactly you.

I’m a 3rd grade teacher, I love music and reading, and yes, “I have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!”.

You’d thought about messaging him right away but ultimately decided against it. Not wanting to seem too eager, you’d give it some time and who knows, maybe he’d even message you first.

It had been an entire week since you’d swiped right and now he was finally messaging you. He’d kept it pretty simple, but it was late and given the previous messages you’d received at this hour, you were feeling pretty weary about opening his message.

A: Hello, I wanted to message you sooner, but I wasn’t sure how to start this conversation.

Y: Hi 😊 and no worries I get it. Online dating doesn’t exactly have the same effect as an in-person conversation.

A: Precisely. How are you?

Y: I’m doing good, tired. You?

A: I’m good, thank you.

A: I’m so sorry, I travel for work and am currently on the west coast, I didn’t even factor in the time difference.

Y: Don’t apologize! I’m the one who is awake at this ungodly hour. I should probably head to sleep though.

A: Yes, get some rest. Could I message you tomorrow and try this again?

Y: Absolutely, I’m looking forward to it! Goodnight Aaron!

A: Goodnight.

You woke up feeling pretty good, it was nice to not have to wake up at 6:00 am every morning. Once of the perks of being a teacher was the breaks. You were, however, thankful to be at a school that allowed a twelve-month contract which meant your paychecks continued through the summer. You had also made some extra cash by creating and selling assignments through teachers-pay-teachers (TPT) and by holding virtual tutoring sessions for students who were struggling.

Today you were just planning to create a few different anchor charts to upload for sale on your TPT account. You had just finished designing one for homophones vs. homographs and were ready to upload it when your phone buzzed. When you noticed the notification, you couldn’t help but smile.

A: Good morning

Y:  Good morning! How are you?

A: I’m well, glad to be going home. How are you?

Y: Right, you had said you were on the west coast, is that for work?

Y: And I am good, thank you.

A: Yes, I unfortunately have to travel a lot for work. Your bio says you’re a teacher, that’s really incredible, how long have you been teaching?

Y: Travelling for work must take the excitement out of the actual travel.

Y: And thank you! I have been teaching for 5 years now! I love it so much; the kids make all the paperwork and administrative stuff worth it!  

A: It is so great that you have that passion. It seems that it’s becoming increasingly rare.

Y: What about you? I see you’re a federal agent, is that right?

A: Yeah, I am. It’s not as glamorous as it may sound.

Y: I would think it’s busy, and hard work. Especially with you travelling while having kids at home.

A: It is, it’s nice to talk to someone who understands that. I just have one kid, a son, he’s almost 8.

Y: That is a good age!

A: It really is, he’s coming into his own.

A: I just saw the time; I have a plane to go catch. Can we talk again soon?

Y: I would really like that. Have a safe flight Aaron.

**One Month later**

The two of you had talked nearly every day for the past month. He was everything you could’ve hoped for; kind, funny, charming, he asked you about yourself and your job. You were really enjoying talking to him and he must’ve shared those feelings because he had recently asked you to switch over from Tinder to texting.

Aaron and you hadn’t had the chance to meet in person yet, but you texted frequently. In the time you’ve been talking, he’d been out of town a total of three times. The first was when you’d matched, he was somewhere on the west coast then. He was back for two days from that trip before he left again, that time was a short stint in the Midwest. And the most recent time, which he was just getting back from was a whole week, somewhere nearby, you knew based on the fact that you remained in the same time zone.

Getting to know each other had been going well, you two asked one another deep questions instead of surface level stuff. You’d talked about your dreams and how you hoped to continue teaching for a few more years before moving up into the administration side of things, and Aaron had shared that he used to be a prosecutor and while he couldn’t share much about his current job, he shared what he might do when he was done at the FBI. He informed you that you had inspired him and that he’d been considering teaching classes at the local university.

Connecting with him was easy, so easy in fact that you’d both admitted to having deleted your dating apps. You had told Aaron that you really wanted to meet him, and he had agreed with you, and so you had set up a tentative date for the following Friday, provided work doesn’t call him away.

Naturally, work did call him away. He’d texted you as soon as he found out. Short but sweet.

Aaron: Hey, I am so sorry, but we got a case. We’re headed to the tarmac now. Raincheck?

You: Oh, no worries! I understand, have a safe flight. Will you let me know when you land?

Aaron: Of course, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.

You couldn’t help but blush at the name. Aaron and you hadn’t used pet names or even discussed it…hell, you hadn’t really discussed anything about what you were or where you were headed. You had figured that you would have that discussion over dinner, only now that wasn’t happening.

In all honesty you were starting to lose your resolve. Since you had started talking to Aaron, you hadn’t talked to any other men, which meant you hadn’t been intimate with any other men. You were starting to feel pretty restless. You’d thought about texting him, but again, you had no idea what this thing you were doing was. You had tried to push the feeling aside, keeping yourself busy by watching TV and cutting out materials for your classroom.

It was nearly 10 pm when your phone lit up. You looked down to see Aaron’s contact light up your screen, a smile taking form on your lips.

Aaron: Hey sweetheart, how was your day?

You: Hey! It was productive, I got a lot of prep work done for my class. How was your day?

Aaron: It was long, and brutal. I would much rather be there with you.

This was it; he was opening the door; you would just have to see how far he wanted this to go…would he invite you in given the chance?

You: I’d love it if you were here. I’m just lying in bed.

Aaron: You are?

You: Yeah, just here in bed. Thinking about you.

Aaron: I’ve been thinking about you too.

You: Yeah? How so?

Aaron: Sweetheart, I don’t want you to think that this is just some ploy. I like you; I really do, and I want to meet you in person.

You: I like you too Aaron and I know you wouldn’t do that. I’d also really love for you to continue…I really need to know what you’ve been thinking about.

Aaron: God sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about all the things I’d like to do with you.

Aaron: I’d love to start by grabbing your face and kissing those beautiful lips.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you read Aaron's text. Your heart begins to race, anticipation bubbling up inside you. The words on the screen ignite a flame of desire deep within your core, making it impossible to resist the growing heat between your legs.

You: Mmm, that sounds amazing. I can almost feel your lips on mine already.

Aaron: I want to taste every inch of you. Starting with your mouth, then trailing my kisses down your neck.

The mere thought of Aaron's lips exploring your body sends a surge of wetness between your thighs. You imagine him leaving gentle, lingering kisses along the curve of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below your earlobe.

You: Yes, please. I want to feel your lips everywhere.

Aaron: I'd slowly remove your shirt, teasingly revealing the soft skin underneath until it’s off completely, exposing your beautiful breasts.

You can't help but squirm in bed, the tingling warmth between your legs intensifying with every word. The anticipation builds as you imagine Aaron's hands brushing against your skin, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along the curve of your breasts.

You: Oh God, that sounds incredible. I can’t wait to feel your touch, Aaron.

Aaron: And I can’t wait to give it to you, my sweet girl. I'd worship every inch of your body, my hands guiding my lips and tongue to explore you.

Your breath catches in your throat as the images flood your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last. You can almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your collarbone, the way his tongue would flick against your sensitive flesh.

You: Please, Aaron. I need you now. I can't wait any longer.

Aaron: Patience, sweetheart. We'll meet soon, and when we do, I promise to fulfill your every desire.

As you read Aaron's response, a mix of relief and disappointment washes over you. You understand the need for caution, but the ache within you grows stronger with each passing minute. The desire to feel Aaron's touch, to have him consume you completely, becomes almost unbearable.

You: Okay, Aaron. I trust you.

Aaron: Good girl. Now, close your eyes and imagine my hands tracing circles on your thighs. Slowly inching higher, closer to where you crave me the most.

You follow his command, closing your eyes and allowing your mind to paint vivid images of his touch. The sensation of his warm hands on your thighs sends shivers down your spine as you imagine his fingers inching closer to your pulsating core.

You: Oh yes, Aaron. I can nearly feel your hands on me, the anticipation is almost unbearable. Every nerve ending in my body burns for your touch.

Aaron: That's it, my sweet girl. Imagine my fingers brushing against your wetness, teasingly circling your throbbing clit, driving you to the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat. The images in your mind become more vivid, your body responding to the phantom touch that you crave with every fiber of your being.

You: Yes, Aaron. I can feel it. My body is on fire for you.

Aaron: I can practically see the uncontrollable desire in your eyes, sweet girl. I bet you look so pretty when you cum.

Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and frustration. The words exchanged between you and Aaron ignite a passionate flame within you, but the distance between you only fuels the longing for his touch. For now, you must find solace in the words that pass between you, allowing your imaginations to create a world where your desires can run wild.

You: I can't wait for the moment when this all becomes reality.

Aaron: It will be worth the wait, my sweet girl. Until then, tell me what you’ve been thinking about. Tell me what you want me to do to you.

You close your eyes, mind racing with a whirlwind of untamed thoughts and secret desires. With each passing moment, the explicit nature of your conversation with Aaron intensifies, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. The electrifying tension between you grows with every tantalizing word exchanged, pushing the boundaries of your imagination further than ever before. You find yourself under Aaron's spell, eager to confess the deepest, darkest corners of your desires.

You: Aaron, I want you to take control. I want to be at your mercy, to feel the weight of your dominance. Do with me as you please.

Aaron: My sweet girl, I will claim you as mine, marking every inch of your body with my touch.

Your body trembles in anticipation of your approaching orgasm. Every nerve ending tingles and pulses, craving the touch of Aaron's hands, his lips, his body against yours. The air is thick with desire as you imagine surrendering yourself to him completely. You slide two fingers into your pulsing heat, slowly thrusting them in and out, imagining Aaron was the one providing you such pleasure.

Aaron: Give yourself over to me. Let go sweetheart. I want to push you to your limits and then pull you back.

Your fingers move faster, matching the rhythm of your racing heart. The room seems to spin as you find yourself on the precipice of ecstasy. One final thrust of your fingers and you are sent hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure that crash over you like a tsunami.

As you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm, your breathing begins to steady, and the reality of the moment settles in.

You: Aaron...that was...beyond anything I could have imagined.

Aaron: This is only the beginning. There is so much more for us to explore when we are finally together.

You were growing more confident in whatever this was with him, but you were also becoming more and more frustrated at the fact that you had still yet to meet up with him. You had facetimed many times at this point. Calling one another regularly, to say good morning, to let you know he had landed safely, to tell him all about your day, and even to get one another off at the end of a long hard week.

He was extremely apologetic, given that his chaotic schedule was to blame for you having yet to meet in person. He had even gone as far as to let you know each day they didn’t have a case to see if you were free, but unfortunately as the new school year was approaching, you had become increasingly busier. You had been attending trainings for curriculum as well as the new program the school would be using to take attendance. You had also been going in to start setting up your classroom for a few hours each day.

When you weren’t at the school working on those things, you were at home writing lesson plans, making assignments, and getting your google classroom setup online. You had felt horrible that you had to decline dates, especially given that he finally had time for them, but Aaron was so sweet, assuring you that it was okay. You told him that once the school year started things would be easier since there wouldn’t be so much to prep anymore and once again Aaron let you know that he understood.  

Time had flown by; Aaron and you had been talking and doing whatever this was for nearly two months. Many things had been exchanged between the two of you, promises of exclusivity (without labels for now), explicit messages, talks of the future, nude photos, hopes and dreams, amongst many other things. Since that night, you and Aaron had shared many explicit conversations that had ultimately led to some of the best orgasms you’d ever given yourself. You we genuinely surprised at how quickly you had felt comfortable with a man you’ve never actually met, but him facetiming you regularly helped, you supposed. It was scary to think you could be falling for this man so early on.

Shaking the thought out of your mind you checked your phone, only to see a missed call from Aaron, as well as a voicemail. It made you smile to yourself, nobody you knew left voicemails anymore, they always followed a missed call with a text.

VM <Aaron>: Hey sweetheart, you must be busy, but I wanted to see if you were free this Saturday. I know you have some stuff going on at the school this week, but I thought since you are off, and I just found out it is a mandatory off day for the team, it might be a good time for us to finally go out.

Aaron’s voicemail made you giddy, because him having a mandatory day off on the weekend was rare (as he previously informed you). They tend to fall in the middle of the week between cases to allow the agents a break. But a Saturday! One of your days off – this meant you could finally go on your date! You quickly clicked your phone app, scrolled to his contact, and hit the call button.

“Hotchner.” Aaron said.

“Hey baby!” You greeted.

“Oh, hi sweetheart! I take it you got my voicemail?”

“I did, and I am totally free on Saturday! Were you thinking dinner?”

“Well Jack is with his grandpa on Saturday, so I thought maybe we could spend the whole day together? I have a feeling once I see you, I’m not going to want to let you out of my sight for a bit.” Aaron explained.

“First of all, same! Second of all, I would love to spend the day with you, maybe we could go to the farmer’s market in the morning? I could get some stuff to make us dinner. What do you think?” You questioned.

“Perfect! Alright, well it is getting late, and I know you have a busy day at the school tomorrow, so I am going to let you go. Have a good night sweet girl.”

“Tomorrow won’t be as bad as Thursday, but you are right it is getting late. Goodnight handsome! Text me when you get up?” You asked, hopeful.

“You are going to do great on Thursday, the parents are going to love you. And I will text you first thing!”

With that, you hung up. Aaron was sweet trying to ease your mind of your anxieties. You knew realistically that your meet the teacher night on Thursday would be fine and that there really was no reason to fret, but alas, here you are letting it eat you up.

The next three days passed in a blur, Aaron had been consulting on a case from the Quantico office, something about it not being enough information to warrant travel. You had been finishing up all your last-minute decorations and lesson prep. You also needed to make your slideshow that you would review during meet the teacher.

It had been chaotic, but you managed to get everything completed on time and Aaron had actually helped that precinct close their case. It had been a successful week, and now you on top of your back-to-school jitters, you also had nerves from your pending date. You told yourself to focus on one thing at a time, it would be easier that way.

Which leads you to right now…

Meet the teacher night was the most nerve-wracking and exciting night of the year, you wanted to make a good impression for all the parents, but you also needed to show the kids that you were a safe adult that they could trust who has curated an inviting and cozy space for them to express themselves and engage in learning. 

You had spent the last week getting your classroom perfectly decorated and organized for this moment, and here it was finally happening. You waited, anxiously fidgeting with your sleeves as families made their way into your classroom, greeting them all as they entered. A parent had pulled you aside to talk about their child’s multitude of allergies when another family had walked in, presumably the last one if you had your count right. You excused yourself and made your way over to the father of this student and stopped dead in your tracks. You’d recognize him anywhere, you had memorized his face, arms, hands, broad shoulders and here he was in front of you now.

“Hi” it came out as a breath; you were stunned that he was here now.

“Hi, I had no idea you were Jack’s teacher. The email I got must’ve been your last name…” Aaron tried to explain.

“No, don’t worry about it, we hadn’t exchanged full names. I um maybe we should talk about this after.” You’d just remembered that you were in a room full of parents and your soon-to-be students.

“Right, that’s a good idea.” Aaron said as he made his way over to Jack and some woman.

Your stomach dropped as Aaron greeted the woman, clearly someone he was very familiar with. Had this all been a lie, the last two months. You zoned out, completely disassociated as you gave your presentation, welcoming the families, going over pickup/drop-off procedures, discussing how you would communicate with parents and going over the scope and sequence of the curriculum for this year.

As you spoke, you found your eyes drifting back to him. Your stomach dropping every time he meets your gaze. How dare he. How dare he smile at you like nothing is wrong, like he isn’t here with some other woman.

You made it halfway through the powerpoint which was a chance for parents to ask any questions that they had thus far. A few parents had asked about the school lunch program and what after-school activities they could anticipate throughout the year. Another parent asked about one of the board adopted reading curriculums and how it would be implemented – all tame so far. Then his hand went up. You steeled yourself before gesturing to him.

“Mr. Hotchner” You signaled him to ask his question.

“Yes, I wanted to know more about the art program here. Which classes are provided as the kids’ specials?”

“That’s a great question, our school has received a grant from the state for our arts program, it is one of the best in the U.S.. The students will participate in multiple specials throughout the week such as Art, Physical Education, Chorus, Computers, Robotics, Gardening, Band, and Dance. They will have two specials classes on every day of the week, save for Wednesdays, since those are half days.” You explained.

“Wow, that’s amazing, thank you!” Aaron smiled at you again.

You were proud of the fact that your school had the ability to have such a wide variety of electives to offer your students. Your heart swells when talking about it, knowing that you worked tirelessly to help lock in that grant for your school. Aaron’s smiley response, however, makes your stomach churn.  

You continued throughout the last few slides, closed out your presentation and said your goodbyes, answering the few remaining questions while picking up stray crayons and cups scattered around the room. As you threw the last few cups in the trash you turned to see Aaron lingering in the back of the room alone.

There was a nagging feeling eating away at you. He surely didn’t have the audacity to come here with another woman. Not when you had spent the last two months sharing the most intimate parts of yourselves with one another. Granted he didn’t know it would be you, so maybe that was why he was here with her. All you wanted to do was grab your bag and get the hell out of here.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He started.

“Sooo, should we just ignore the fact that I’ve seen you naked? Just pretend like the last two months never happened. I don’t want to put Jack in an awkward position. And I certainly don’t want to come between you and your girlfriend.” You huffed.

“Woah, sweetheart, hold on. What are you talking about? As far as I am concerned the only person who I would call my girlfriend here is you, but obviously we haven’t discussed that and seeing as we are only just meeting now, I figured we’d go on our date before labeling anything. I don’t want to forget about any of this, I want to keep this going, see where it leads.” Aaron reached for your hand gently.

“Aaron, if you are seeing that woman you came here with then this has to end. I’m not looking to be a third, or to be your mistress. You can’t do that to her. You can’t do that to Jack!” You shook your head and pulled your hand away from his.

“Oh my god. No, that’s Jess, Jack’s aunt. I thought I told you about her. It’s Jack’s mom’s sister. The only person I want to see is you baby.” He reaches for you again.

This time you let him pull you into his embrace. You shake your head, feeling like an idiot for even thinking Aaron was capable of something so awful.

“I’m so stupid. Aaron I am so sorry!”

“Sweetheart it is okay! I can’t even imagine how it must’ve looked.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“I can’t believe you are actually here right now.” You whispered, pressing your face further into his chest.

Aaron squeezed you tighter, rubbing his hands up and down the expanse of your back. You took a deep breath in, savoring the smell of his cologne.

“You know, I could have Jess take Jack home, and maybe we could go grab a bite to eat?” Aaron suggested.

“Really?” You looked to him for confirmation.

Aaron replied with a subtle “mhmm” to which you nodded. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and shot a quick text to Jess. He was sure to give her a brief explanation of the situation, this of course caused her to agree to take Jack for the night.

You should have known you wouldn’t even make it to dinner. Aaron had suggested going back to his place since it would be empty and ordering in. How could you say no, it was a brilliant idea.

The two of you barely made it through the door before your lips met in a fiery kiss, tugging at one another’s clothes. Aaron had picked you up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he carried you the rest of the way to the bedroom.

He gently laid you on the bed, holding his weight up by his elbows on either side of your head. He leans in to kiss you once more before pulling away entirely.

“Sweetheart, I want to make sure you really want this. I can wait and I don’t want you to think this is all I want because trust me I want you. All of you.” Aaron expressed.

“Aaron I want this, all of this with you.” You gently brushed your finger against his jaw.

With that, Aaron dove back in and kissed you with fervor. His hands gripping your plush thighs sliding up to your hips. Your hands reaching to unbutton his dress shirt, unsuccessfully so. Aaron’s hands come up to meet your own, he moves to remove his own shirt which allows you just enough space to remove your own. Garments are strewn about the room as Aaron leans down attaching his lips to the top of your breasts. His hands come up to grope them, your body arching into his touch. He tugs the lace down, exposing your nipple, it immediately perks to the cold air, and he attaches his mouth to it. You can’t help the gasp that releases from your throat. You card your fingers through his hair raking your nails against his scalp.

Aaron presses his hips to yours, allowing you to feel his growing length against your inner thigh. Heat courses through your body as your heart races. He undresses you with a slow, deliberate intent, unhooking your bra and allowing your breasts to bounce free. The vulnerability of it all makes you feel alive, desired, cherished.

Your hands explore his body, his muscles hard and defined under your touch. You run your fingers across the faint lines of scars, evidence of his journey, the stories he's lived. You gently trace them, feeling his rough skin, the warmth emanating from him. You feel like you know him, like you've been waiting for this moment your entire life.

He stands, his eyes locked with yours. He reaches down, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down his legs. Your eyes follow the movement, taking in every inch of his body, he is standing before you, naked and exposed. You feel a wave of desire wash over you, a fiery need to be closer to him. Your hands reach for him, your fingers brushing against the curve of his hips, the muscles in his thighs, the hard line of his abdomen. You run your fingertips along the slight indent of his navel, and he lets out a low groan.

Your body is alive with desire, every breath you take sharper, every touch more electric. You know this moment will be etched in your memory forever, the beginning of something beautiful. And as you take his hand, pulling him back to the bed, you know that this is where your story will unfold, a story of passion, love, and a bond that will last a lifetime.

[deadpool15]

Jealousy

Some say jealousy is an ugly trait. Well, they haven't been in a relationship with Korea's top choreographer. And they especially haven't met Tatter. That bitch is like a roach that won't die. I've tried on multiple occasions to bring up the issue to Bada, though she just gives me constant reassurance. Most would be satisfied with that, "Baby, you're the only woman for me. You're the only one I see. I don't even waste my time thinking about anyone else."

Now, sure, that's amazing, and I love her for that until Tatter steps doing some shit. From the fake tears to looking out for hugs and kisses on the cheek. It's like she lives off the attention. She is sneaky with it, waiting til she believes I'm no longer in the room. Out of site out of mind for her. It's hard to talk to Bada about it, though. She sees Tatter as her little sister. Sadly, Tatter doesn't share the same mindset. Even going as far to fake as being insecure in situations gets some attention.

You see one thing I had to get used to wad the touchy movements. I mean I had met BEBE before I was dating Bada. Even then it was a bother to me. I'm not a touchy person, but Tatter sure is. The slick shit she does when she thinks I'm not around is so fucking funny.

Bada- Baby, if you not busy you can come to the studio with me to keep me company. Seems I'm gonna be here longer then I thought.

I glance down at my phone and see a notification. "Oo, it's from my girl." I say will getting so excited. She has been so busy with work. I miss her. I look down at the message and smile and immediately start getting ready. As we have already established, I'm down bad for this woman. Shit, on our first date, just watching her order food had me fucking wet. How can someone be so fucking beautiful?

I grab a pair of sweatpants that are obviously not mine. In my defense, nothing I wear is mine anymore these days. Then, I put on a top that's basically just a nipple cover at this point. I mean, sue me, it's hot as shit in Korea right now. I then start to get some snacks and making sure to grab my keys and make my way out the door.

Talia- Aww someone misses me. I'll be there soon are the girls there?

Bada- No, everyone left just me, and I need motivation, baby. Hurry up.

I get in the car, making my way to the nearest chicken spot. Got to make sure to get her favorite. And grab a couple of cokes. Then, I start to make my way over to Bada. It's takes about 30 minutes before I sit in the parking lot of JustJerk building, I grab everything inside the car and walk to the entrance. I'm greeting by Gina, the receptionist at the front desk, asking me how my day was and what not. I always feel bad because I can never remember her name. Then, after our little chat, I walked towards Bada's studio. It wasn't hard to find its it seemed she was the only one who was still working. I walk inside with a struggle, "carrying all this fucking food."

I was busy trying to finish working on the choreography for NCT's newest comeback, which I was almost done with until I heard laughing. I turn around and spot my girlfriend. I ran over to her, picking her up and spinning her around the room. "You took forever, I thought you changed your mind about coming." I tell her with a slight pout on my face. She grabs my cheeks, smashing them together, "I would've told you if I changed my mind. Now, before you ran over here like you were raised without any home training, I was carrying so found for you, Ms. Lee, that has now landed on the floor. It better still be good." I place her down, before looking at the floor see the boxes of chicken, "Baby, you didn't have to get me food." She grabs my cheeks again. "Of course, I did. You sit in here all day overworking yourself. And neglecting your health at times. So, you will eat, plus this can be like a little date for us. " I smile at her before hugging her. I truly do love this girl.

"What would I do without you?" I know I tell myself that every day." We then sit there telling each other about our days, how she is struggling in her classes at time, but then she takes breaks and remembers it's not the end of the world. Maybe I should do that. Before we can continue, the door opens. "Tatter? I thought you left and went home for the day." I look over a Talia hoping praying that Tatter leaves before some shit goes down. Talia and Tatter have created this unspoken beef, but for my sake, they keep it cool, sometimes. "Oo, yea, so while I was on my way home, I realized the reason we were struggling with the dance was because the moves are clean. Like they are sloppy. So I came back here to help you with it?" I stare at her, smiling slightly, but before I can tell her to politely leave, Talia speaks up.

"Hello Tatter, nice to see you too. How are you? That's great. I'm doing just fine. Thanks for asking. It's so nice that you take time out of your busy schedule and acknowledge my existence." She says bitterly. Tatter just looks at her and smiles, "O, sorry Tania, I didn't see you there." "it's Talia you knew that though bitch." I look at both of them already seeing where this conversation is heading. "Tatter l, thanks for stopping by. But, I think we should just worry about that tomorrow. Today's been a long day. I see Talia getting ready to make a slick ass remark so I stop her, "Talia don't fucking start. Tatter leave. Now." She rushes out, looking sad, and I turn around to see Talia getting up and leaving.

She rushes to the bathroom and tries to lock me out before I catch the door and push her inside. "Wow Bada how fucking nice of you to welcome yourself. She basically comes in this bitch throwing shots at me and leaps on to you making it see as if im not in the fucking room and your response is Talia dont start. Great job on making your girlfriend feel secure in her relationship." I stand there staring at her before grabbing her hips and placing her on the vanity area. She stops her little rant and simply glares at me. "I was trying to calm the situation before you started coming at each other physically. I know how you are, baby. That would've ended well." I grab her chin titling her head upwards to make eye contact.

"I know how she feels about me. I'm not slow, I'm aware. But I've told you I only have eyes for you, plus it is hard to look anywhere else when you show up taking care of me." I push myself against her. She drives me fucking insane, those big glossy lips, her fucking curly hair sitting at the top of her head in a slick bun. And those big beautiful eyes are just so ready for me to do anything to her. "I'm sorry baby, how about you let me make it up to you, huh? Gonna make you feel so good you know I always do." I slowly start kissing her neck while moving my hand down to her pants.

"You look so fucking good baby, my good girl right?" She sits there nodding her head in a daze. I grab her underwear and push them aside making my way directly to her clit, then I start to press down on it causing her to grab my arms. I'm sitting here whimpering, trying to reach my neck to pull me down for me kiss. "Please... please Bada just fucking put them inside." She tells me while trying to cover up her moans. I immediately stop. "Baby, you know I like to listen. How am I supposed to know I'm doing a good job? Come on baby, be a good girl and move those hands for me. Don't you want my apology, yea? I know you do, baby. She starts to hide in my neck, moaning. "Sound so good, sweet girl. Just sit back and let me make it up to you."

[nandanevesc]

Notice

Hi hi everyone! I know I've been absent, but there were some things that were making it very difficult for me to share what I've been doing. I guess waking up and figuring out that 15 years+ of art I've worked on since I was a teenager had been stolen in a single night to "train" AI without my consent created a new trauma, and with every social media gradually putting its own rules for using AI in our images it is making me very insecure about sharing anything.

I'm really sorry for not explaining my absence. It was not at all once and on the same day it happened that I felt scared to post. I realized that I had been gradually giving up on posting anything, and in the end, I just stopped.

This subject was, and still is very inflamed, and I know that there are a lot of people defending AI, just as there are a lot of people fighting for the conscientization of it at the same time, and honestly, I wasn't ready to deal with that conversation. I'm still not ready at all.

I was too fragilized to even talk about all of this, and every time I see something about this topic I get extremely anxious. I am anxious right now to bring this up, but I feel I should at least share what happened to me with those who care about my whereabouts.

What I felt that day was worse than when I lost almost everything I had in a flood once, because back then my family and I just started working on cleaning everything and making new furniture with what we had left. We had people helping us recover, bringing us what they could to help, and eventually, we could get back on our feet.

I'm sorry for the comparison. I know that what we lost back then cost much more and that other people had similar experiences and know how much it hurts to see everything you have, every family picture, clothes, and document floating with sewage water. But that site was the very first one I posted anything online, and the one I posted almost everything I did until the day the site opted for every art uploaded on it to agree with the use of our images to train AI without even a notification.

I felt that I lost everything again, and this time were all things I did myself, my very first drawing, my very first digital painting that looked awful, and every single one I did while I was trying to get better at this until being an artist became my profession. This was not something that I could recover from, because I had everything with me, but someone else had these copies, together with the copies of everyone else's work that were on that platform. I felt robbed, and used. Just as I'm sure many artists who had their entire life's work posted on Deviantart that night and found out about this felt the same way.

Please don't get me wrong. I'm not against AI in general. It can be used for many useful and even essential things that didn't harm anyone to be created and won't harm anyone to be used. Much of it is a necessary advance, and that is not the part I'm against at all. This is something too extensive to put a right or wrong label on and its aspects still need to be understood to define which parts are ethical and which are not. I'm against, however, the unethical part of it. That they used real people to scan their work, their voices, and even their faces without consent to create something that is not out of nothing, are bits and pieces of information of other people's essence, characteristics, and hard work.

I understand the need to grow, and I understand that since AI was something new, there were no laws whatsoever about it to protect us from it.

I understand that there are much worse evils than this to be considered in the world, and that my problems and how I feel about them shouldn't be that hard to endure especially since I know that there could be worse. But I wish things had been different.

I can only hope that this will change with time, that it can be used more consciously, and that unethical methods will no longer be applied. I hope that everything will work out in the end.

Sorry for my long explanation, but thank you for reading. And believe me, I missed you all so much. And I hope to feel safe sharing my art here with you more often again. It's a part of me that I had lost the courage to have until now, and I hope I have the strength to deal with it, because creating art is what I love most in the world, and I really miss being able to share it with you.

[esmeralda-cats767]

Intro post

Hi! I'm Esmeralda (She/Her)

I also go by LittleBigCutte in videogames

I mainly post Just Shapes And Beats content, but I may occasionally post other things.

Basic Tag Guide:

#[fandom] art - general art of the specified fandom

#[fandom] reblog - reblog of any kind of thing related to a fandom

#my art - all of the art that I have made

#my [fandom] art - my own fanarts pieces of a fandom

#my ocs - any oc of mine

#awesome fanart - any kind of fanart of my ocs

#yapping - my random comments on anything, they may also be on the tags

Feel free to ask/comment anything!

As long as you keep it polite, I'll never get annoyed by a comment/ask or the notifications I'll get of a reblog, maybe I'll even do a request, go wild!

[More important Info below^^]

Some important things to know!

I'm not great at communication but I try

I'm someone's with ASD, in the environment where I grew up they treated me as someone dumb and an outcast.

As you may expect that did some damage at how I approach people and how I trust them, so I'm sorry if it takes me a while to talk or understand some things that you say to me, I'll try my best and I apologize if I Yap a lot.

Pls try to not ask/do anything NSFW or R-18

I would put a kids DNI, but we all know that those don't work. It would also be something hypocrite of my part considering I starting using this site when I was around 12 lol (Don't worry I'm over 18 now)

I want to make this blog a safe environment for young and sensitive people, specially considering that there's creeps everywhere nowdays. So please, respect that,

Please DO NOT solicit

There's nothing that tells me for sure that any link or profile that you direct me to won't be a torrent or some kind of scam. If you mention me, send me any kind of link or similar I WILL block and report you.

DO NOT repost my art

I have accounts in almost all sites (Tumblr is my main one). If I don't publish my art in other places is by choice, If you happen to repost my art for some kind of edit or something similar have the decency to tag me or to keep my signature.

DO NOT use my art for AI

I don't allow for any of my art to be used for any kind of AI. This probably won't stop it from being used, but still, I'm giving my statement and that's what counts.

My art may be deleted at any moment!

I'm really insecure of everything that I create, mainly my art. And sometimes when I get frustrated I have the urge to delete old works, so if you really like something of mine (I doubt it) make sure to save it!

[danpuff-ao3]

AO3 is honestly the best. For multiple reasons but today I would like to rave about:

Site Skins.

Do I as a creator have a bad relationship with my stats? Absolutely! I've worked very hard for many years to balance how I see my work and how I feel about reception, but my mental health is an ongoing struggle and for peace of mind I've given up the fight. I can't force my brain to be less mean to me. And I definitely can't control my stats or people's reaction to my work. But what I can do is fix up my environment.

My first step was to turn off email notifications for comments. I still got my daily kudos email, but comments I'd have to go into AO3 to look at.

My next step was to implement a site skin that would block me from seeing my stats. Not just my stats, though, but stats across the board! All I've been able to view for a while now are word counts. But I don't see kudos or comment numbers or bookmark numbers or anything on works or in my stats page. Only word count!

With that in mind, I do still check periodically. I'll remove the site skin once a month to take a looksy at things. But the site skin keeps me from obsessively looking, and with only checking once a month I get a vague idea of change and I never remember the numbers well enough to get too upset. Rude bookmark comments can't be helped, but generally I brace myself for my monthly check-ins.

Most recently I've added a code to the site skin that hides my inbox completely. No more obsessively checking AO3 for comments!

That said, I do love and appreciate all of my comments. I really do! And I will respond to all of them during my monthly check in. I don't want to dissuade anyone from commenting, nor do I want to hear "you can just turn off comments", because I do want them. I just need a healthier relationship with these things and minimizing my access does wonders for my mental health! (And my self-esteem, not gonna lie.)

I even set up my gmail to move all AO3 emails to a particular folder and mark them as unread so I still have backups of my kudos emails, and I even turned email notifications for comments back on! Only now they're separate and hidden and I can take a look when I'm in the right headspace for it!

Being a creator is hard. And it's natural, I think, to get in our own heads about the numbers game, or overthink this comment or that bookmark. A little space does a world of good, I think.

It's the space I've taken the past year or two with social media. I've turned off email notifications and push notifications on all of my apps. It's done me a world of good to not expect myself to be constantly available, or to see and react to every little thing. I don't get alerts for every Tweet or reblog or like. I engage with various platforms when I'm ready for it. When I'm willing and able to jump in and take a look for myself, and jump out when I feel like it, and to not feel the constant pressure of endless connection.

The same I think will hold true for my stats. I have the very fun combination of GAD, OCD, & ADHD. I don't know which of them is being poked and prodded at any given time, or if it's all of them, but I do know that while I've made great strides, I don't think I'll ever be able to fully turn off the parts of me that worry and stress and take too much to heart. But I do have the tools available to make my life a bit easier and more peaceful.

I feel a bit silly and pathetic for talking about all of this. Like I should be morally above it all, or have a stronger will; like I should be cool and collected and unbothered. But I'm not! I care too much about what other people say and think. I care too much about my work, and some part of me will always have doubts and insecurities, and I'll always feel and think certain ways even if I know better. Even if I know that the numbers don't equal my worth, or my work's quality. I'm a human lady. I have flaws and feelings and I'm generally a mess.

But...Well, I know there are people out there like me, at least in some ways. And it might help to know there are options! And you can take it one step at a time. Hide this or that from yourself. Work on slowly stepping away from the stat obsession.

Or maybe you're not like me at all and you have the healthiest relationship to numbers known to man. In that case, it's still good to know your options because you can also use site skins for aesthetics! I'm not the person to ask about that, mind you, but it's possible!

Either way. AO3 gives us many options, be it the freedom to post all sorts of crazy content, or the freedom to control our experience, be it by hiding numbers or having a Barbie-pink site background. Either way, it's hella cool and I love AO3.

[darrendunner]

Protecting Your Digital Identity: Essential Practices for Profile Security on Every Platform

In an era where nearly every aspect of our lives intersects with digital platforms, protecting your online profiles has become a critical priority. From social media accounts and email to banking apps and professional networks, your digital identity contains sensitive information that cybercriminals often target. Without proper security measures, your data, financial assets, and reputation could be at serious risk. This article explores essential practices that help protect your profile security across all platforms, guiding you through practical strategies to safeguard your digital identity.

Recognizing the Risks of Insecure Profiles

Online profiles store a wealth of personal data, including your name, contact details, photos, and sometimes even financial information. Hackers exploit weak security to gain access, leading to identity theft, fraud, or unauthorized transactions. When accounts are compromised, it often results in far-reaching consequences beyond mere inconvenience. A breached social media account can damage your personal or professional reputation, while unauthorized access to financial profiles may lead to significant monetary loss.

Understanding the risks highlights the importance of prioritizing profile security. It is not enough to hope that platforms will protect you; active involvement in securing your accounts is necessary. As threats evolve in sophistication, users must adopt proactive habits that strengthen their defenses and reduce vulnerabilities. Taking control of your online safety begins with awareness and continues with deliberate security practices.

Developing Strong and Unique Passwords

One of the most crucial steps in protecting your profiles is creating strong, unique passwords for each account. Unfortunately, many people rely on simple or repeated passwords, which makes it easier for attackers to crack them using automated tools. Complex passwords combine uppercase and lowercase letters, numbers, and symbols to increase unpredictability. The longer and more varied the password, the more difficult it becomes for hackers to guess.

Using unique passwords for every platform is equally important. If a cybercriminal manages to breach one site and you use the same password elsewhere, they can gain access to multiple accounts. Avoid recycling passwords and instead create distinct credentials for each profile. Password managers can assist by securely storing and generating strong passwords, making it easier to maintain unique access codes without the burden of memorization.

Activating Two-Factor Authentication for Added Security

Password protection alone cannot guarantee complete security; therefore, enabling two-factor authentication (2FA) is highly recommended. This feature adds a verification step that requires something you know (a password) and something you have (a mobile device or authentication app). Even if someone obtains your password, they cannot access your account without the second factor.

Many platforms now offer two-factor authentication (2FA) options, including text message codes, authentication apps, or biometric verification. Setting up this feature significantly reduces the chance of unauthorized entry and provides notifications about login attempts. With 2FA, your profile security strengthens by requiring multiple forms of identification, making it considerably harder for attackers to succeed.

Vigilant Monitoring of Account Activity

Maintaining profile security involves regular monitoring of your account activity. Most digital services allow users to review recent logins, device usage, and changes made to account settings. By checking this information regularly, you can identify suspicious activity early, such as logins from unfamiliar locations or devices.

If unusual activity appears, immediate action is necessary. Changing your password, signing out of all devices, and contacting the platform’s support can help mitigate potential damage. Keeping a habit of monitoring your accounts fosters a heightened awareness of your digital presence, allowing you to respond quickly to threats and maintain control over your profiles.

Using Secure Internet Connections

How and where you access your online accounts affects your profile security. Public Wi-Fi networks, such as those found in coffee shops, airports, or hotels, often lack strong encryption, making them risky environments for transmitting sensitive information. Hackers can intercept data exchanged over these connections, potentially capturing your login credentials and other sensitive information.

Whenever possible, use private, password-protected networks that offer better security. If you must connect to public Wi-Fi, utilizing a virtual private network (VPN) encrypts your internet traffic and shields your data from eavesdropping. Being cautious about the network you use to access your profiles reduces the chances of interception and unauthorized access during online sessions.

Logging Out and Managing Connected Devices

After using your accounts on shared or public devices, logging out is a straightforward yet often overlooked security measure. Leaving sessions open can allow others to access your profiles without your permission. Logging out prevents unauthorized users from taking control of your accounts.

Additionally, many platforms let you view and manage devices currently signed into your accounts. Regularly reviewing this list enables you to detect unknown devices and revoke their access. Removing old or unrecognized devices reduces the risk of lingering connections that could be exploited. Managing device access complements other security efforts and helps maintain control over your digital identity.

Educating Yourself About Phishing and Scams

Cybercriminals frequently use phishing emails and scams to trick users into revealing their login information or downloading malware. These fraudulent messages often look legitimate and urge immediate action, exploiting fear or curiosity. Falling for such tactics can quickly compromise your profile.

Learning to recognize suspicious emails, links, and messages is vital for profile security. Never click on unknown links or provide personal information without verifying the source. Platforms rarely ask for passwords or sensitive data via email. Staying informed about standard phishing methods and adopting a cautious mindset can significantly reduce your chances of becoming a victim.

[ramp-it-up]

Muse: The Cleo Era

Muse: Epilogue | Muse Masterlist

Summary: You and Ari will be parents. Here's the first part of the journey.

Pairing: Art Curator! Ari Levinson x Plus sized model!Reader

A/N: Y'all are getting this Muse Monday on a Tuesday this week. lol. This is in answer to these asks and I got deep so this is just the first part of Muse and Ari as parents. This is it! I already have another ask (thanks, Nonnie) so there will be more. Thank you to those of you who just get these two like I do. You know my heart. 🥹 Muse has been a series of one shots featuring Muse and Ari, and this is it. 🥲 This AU is the nexus, not only connected to the Peach and Knock You Down verses, but also the Minx verse. I love reblogs, replies, asks and likes. Let me have it! :)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Art Curator Ari. Plus sized model Reader, this fic focuses on pregnancy, and all that comes with it, birth, and the period after birth. A marriage. Mothers and mothers in law. Frumoasa and Peach and their children! Also, pregnancy cravings, pregnancy sex, body insecurity, pregnancy kink, Ari is obsessed, lots of oral (f receiving), SIZE KINK, tit worship, raw p in v.

I don’t have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

---------

You didn’t notice at first.

Not with the whirlwind of the wedding and reception behind you, the press requests piling up, and the fall issue of Muse turning into a logistical beast.

Not to mention Ari bouncing between MoMA and Red Sea like he had clones.

You were both deliriously happy and utterly exhausted, too distracted to count days. 

And too busy to notice your period hadn’t come. 

It wasn’t until a shoot at the botanical garden, when the smell of roses made you nauseous and the heat left you dizzy, that it hit you.

You were late.

Really late.

You tried to brush it off. 

Stress. Fatigue. 

But the next morning, gagging over your toothpaste, you knew.

You didn’t say anything to Ari.

You threw a hoodie over your pajamas, bought a test from the bodega, and locked yourself in the bathroom at 6:30 a.m. while he slept.

The wait was short.

Two pink lines. Immediately, no question. 

You sat on the edge of the tub, staring at it like it might blink first. 

You were pregnant. Actually pregnant. Six, maybe seven weeks if the math in your head was right.

It may have even happened after the reception when you whispered that you went off the pill into your husband’s ear and he made good on every sacred filthy promise he’d made in response.

You had made her. Or him. Together.

Your eyes welled up. Your stomach turned again, but you smiled through it.

The floor creaked outside the door.

“Muse?” Ari’s voice was sleepy. “You okay?”

You opened the door slowly, test clutched in your hand. Ari blinked at you, shirtless, hair messy, and pajama pants low on his hips.

“What’s that?”

He stared at the stick. And then, like someone flipped a switch behind his eyes, he understood.

“You’re serious?” he asked, voice cracking.

You nodded.

“I think it happened the night of the reception. Maybe the elevator. Maybe the counter. Possibly the bed.”

A beat, then he laughed. 

That laugh. 

Full of disbelief and awe and all the things he couldn’t say fast enough.

He pulled you into his arms so hard you squeaked, then dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to your stomach like he’d been waiting his whole life for this exact second.

“We made a person,” he whispered. “A fucking person. On purpose.”

You laughed, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I probably should’ve realized sooner. I thought I was just tired.”

“You’re growing a human,” he said, kissing your belly.

“Of course you’re tired.”

“Hi, baby,” he murmured. “I hope you are just like your mom. Beautiful, strong as hell and full of attitude.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“This baby is going to own you.”

—

Three days later, Ari found you in the kitchen, standing in front of the open fridge like it had insulted your honor.

“You look like you’re about to fight someone,” he said carefully.

“There’s no fruit,” you said flatly.

A beat.

“There’s literally so much fruit,” he replied, opening the fridge like he needed to double-check.

You pointed dramatically.

“There are apples. Strawberries. Grapes. But no peaches. I want a peach, Ari. I want a cold, juicy, stupidly ripe peach and there are NONE.”

He blinked. And then, he moved, no hesitation. Just grabbed his keys, his wallet, and kissed your forehead.

“I’ll be back in fifteen,” he murmured, already halfway out the door.

When he returned, he had two brown paper bags and a look that screamed husband of the year.

“There were no fresh peaches at Whole Foods. So I hit up the bodega, then the farmer’s market on 12th.”

He laid out the goods like sacred offerings: yellow peaches, white peaches, canned in syrup, peach nectar, dried peaches.

You blinked. Then burst into tears.

 “Oh my god. Who does that?

He pulled you into his chest.

“Husbands of hormonal goddesses,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. 

“Eat, baby. I got you.”

You ate three in a row over the sink, moaning through every bite.

Ari watched you like you were an art exhibit.

“I’ve never been more attracted to you,” he muttered.

You licked juice off your wrist, cheeks flushed, eyes glinting.

“Oh? You like the feral fruit goblin look?”

“I like the pregnant-with-my-baby look,” he said. “A lot.”

When you were done eating, Ari carried you to the shower and made love to you slowly, reverently, the scent of peaches still clinging to your skin.

——

At eight weeks, your skin broke out and your favorite perfume made you gag. The smell of espresso turned your stomach, a personal betrayal. You were bloated, irritable, exhausted, and more in love with Ari than ever.

When you cried over a dropped croissant, Ari didn’t laugh.

He just held you and whispered, “I’ve got you,” before coming back with four more.

He quietly took over your calendar and showed up to every OB appointment like it was a gala. At your first ultrasound, he didn’t blink, just stared at the grainy little smudge on the screen like it was the only thing that had ever mattered.

“That’s ours,” he whispered, awestruck.

You were bone-deep tired. Sex was still good, just less frequent. That didn’t stop Ari from pressing his mouth to your neck every night and whispering that you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Then, around nine weeks, came a new craving.

You stood in front of the mirror in nothing but a bralette and the softest boyshorts, staring at your body like it belonged to someone else. Your belly hadn’t changed much, but your breasts were heavier, sore, almost unfairly full. 

Your skin felt like it was buzzing. Not itchy. Not uncomfortable.

Just…strange.

You as Ari stood in the doorway, eyes dropping, then widening at the vision of you.

He closed the door behind him, already crossing the room.

“You okay?” 

“No,” you whispered. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

He raised a brow, cautiously playful. 

“That bad, huh?”

You reached for him, grabbing his shirt.

“It’s like, my skin’s too tight. Everything aches. But not in a bad way. I just…” 

You leaned into him, mouth at his neck. 

“I need something. I need…you.”

His breath hitched.

“You sure?”

You nodded, already pressing kisses under his jaw. 

“I’m climbing the walls, Ari. I’ve been thinking about it all day. About you. Your mouth. Your hands. Your cock.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest.

“That’s a dangerous way to talk to your husband, sweetheart.”

“It’s the only way I know how to talk to you right now,” you panted. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice darkening instantly. “Come here.”

He didn’t make it to the bed. He backed you against the dresser, yanked your panties down, and kissed a path to your chest, pulling one aching nipple into his mouth.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you gasped, hips canting forward. “I need it. Need you.”

He didn’t tease. Didn’t waste time. Just dropped to his knees and buried his face between your thighs, licking you like he’d missed it, even though he hadn’t. His tongue was hot and sure, curling deep, circling your clit until you were shaking, one hand in his hair and the other braced on the dresser.

You came with a gasp, loudly, thighs trembling around his ears.

“Don’t stop,” you begged. “Need you inside me.”

Ari stood and kissed you hard, then turned you around and bent you gently over the dresser, one large hand splayed on your lower back, the other stroking himself behind you.

“I love when you get like this,” he groaned. “Desperate. Greedy. So fucking hot.”

You felt the wide head of his cock press against your soaked entrance and pushed back, moaning as he slid into you slowly, fully, and deeply.

“Fuck. Tight,” he hissed. “You feel different. Even hotter. Damn.”

“Don’t stop,” you gasped. “Harder.”

And he did. He gave it to you deep, slow, and then fast and filthy, one hand gripping your hip, the other reaching around to rub your clit just the way you liked. 

You came again before he did, your body clenching hard around him, milking him until he spilled inside you with a groan and a whispered “God, I love you.”

“They’re going to be wild,” you mumbled, still breathless.

“They’re going to be ours,” Ari whispered, kissing your spine. 

He carried you to bed and tucked you against his chest, and whispered soft things into your hair until you melted. You thought he’d sleep. But when you stirred he shifted beside you.

“You awake?” he murmured, voice rumbling against your cheek.

“Mmm… kinda. What time is it?”

“Late enough,” he said. “You hungry?”

“For food or for sex?”

He laughed softly. 

“You up for round two?”

You tilted your face up toward him. He was already looking at you like he couldn’t believe his luck. Like every time he saw you, it hit him all over again.

You smiled.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He rolled you onto your back.

“You’re glowing already,” he murmured, dragging his mouth over you. “Like your body knows it’s doing something holy.”

“You’re obsessed,” you breathed as your fingers threaded through his hair.

“I am,” he whispered, kissing your belly. “You’re carrying my baby. Of course I’m obsessed.”

You felt yourself throb with the sound of his voice alone, and he slid between your legs, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“But I’m not just obsessed with this,” he said, his mouth hovering over your pussy. 

“I’m obsessed with you. With how you taste, how you sound, how you fall apart when I…”

You gasped as he licked a long, slow stripe up your center.

“...do that.”

Your fingers gripped the sheets.

He licked you again. And again. He was both filthy and reverent. His tongue teased your clit, circled it, sucked softly before pulling back to kiss your hip. You moaned, already close, your thighs trembling around his head.

He didn’t stop, sliding one finger inside you, and curling it just right, while his mouth stayed latched to your clit. He worked you slowly, building the pressure until you were whimpering his name, eyes glassy, voice ragged.

“Ari! I’m gonna…”

“Let go,” he rasped against your skin. “Let me take care of my wife.”

That did it. You came hard, with a cry that echoed off the walls, your hips jerking up as your body clenched around his hand. He didn’t stop until your legs shook and your voice gave out.

Then, he kissed his way back up your body, murmuring between every kiss. 

“So good for me. So fucking sweet. I’ll never get enough.”

When you kissed him, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he sank into you in one deep, slow thrust.

This time was different. This was languid, molten, and deliberate. 

“I love you,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours.

“I love you,” you breathed back, clinging to him.

He came with a low moan, buried deep inside you.

You didn’t know how long you lay like that, wrapped up in him, warm and safe, heart racing in sync.

But you knew one thing.

You’d never been loved like this.

—-

By week 14, the nausea lifted like fog.

Your first real meal in days was Greek yogurt with honey, pistachios, and two-and-a-half nectarines. You sat at the table and sobbed through the entire thing. Ari sat beside you with a spoon in hand, feeding you bites like you were royalty. 

He bought a crate of nectarines the next day. 

Your skin became ethereal. 

Your energy returned. 

And the sex was outstanding.

By week 17, your bump started to show. 

Ari stared while you brushed your teeth, then dropped to his knees and kissed your belly like it was sacred.

He spent the entire week painting one wall of the nursery, over and over, until it was the right shade of “sunlight through fog.”

At twenty weeks, the anatomy scan made everything real. The tech said she was healthy and “active.” 

You watched her squirm on the screen and felt a flutter so soft you almost missed it. Ari sketched your face. 

He’d started again after hearing Steve was an artist. He hadn’t done it since college. He said he never wanted to forget how you looked when you realized she was real.

Your dreams got weird. Gold-leafed babies, talking dolphins, a house made of socks. You mumbled them into Ari’s neck at 3 a.m., and he wrote them in a notebook by the bed. 

One night, after a dream where the baby was late to a Vogue shoot, he rubbed your back and whispered, “She gets that from you.”

Your hips ached and your cravings changed weekly. One week, it was grilled cheese at 2 a.m., every night. The next, sour cherry popsicles. You ate one topless on the balcony and Ari almost dropped his drink.

The third trimester arrived and you couldn’t see your feet. Your ankles swelled if you stood too long and you wore Ari’s T-shirts inside out almost exclusively. 

The baby kicked with force now, especially when Ari read aloud, which he did every night. She kicked hardest when he read Toni Morrison. 

You swore she was trying to communicate.

Modeling stopped, but Muse didn’t. You ruled from a throne of pillows, compression socks, and croissants. Ari brought smoothies, kissed your belly, and whispered to the baby like she could answer.

The nesting hit like a fever.

You cleaned out the coat closet at 2 a.m. one night and reorganized every spice alphabetically. Ari didn’t stop you, just brought a chair when your back hurt.

You bought two bassinets, five swaddles, and an antique wooden sheep that cost more than your first car. 

When Ari asked why, you said, “She’ll know it’s art.”

At thirty-six weeks, you only slept in short bursts because the pressure in your hips was brutal. You got Braxton Hicks, which you thought were real one night. 

Ari threw the hospital bag in the car. Turned out it was nothing. He didn’t sleep for two days just in case.

You woke up crying one night after a dream where the baby looked up at you and said, “Thank you.” 

Ari cried with you, then spooned you until sunrise.

At 39 weeks, you stopped wearing waistbands. You waddled and peed constantly yet Ari couldn’t stop touching you. 

He whispered into your shoulder every night, “We’re so close.” 

Your due date came and went; she didn’t. Until one morning, forty weeks and one day, you woke just after 3 a.m.

At first, you thought it was a dream. Then you shifted and felt it: a wet warmth soaking into the sheets. A slow, low cramp stole your breath as you gasped, sat up, and touched your belly.

Ari bolted upright beside you.

“Was that…?”

You nodded. Grinning. Eyes wide.

“It’s time.”

—---

The contractions started slowly; they were manageable. 

You even joked through the first couple, sitting on a towel in the passenger seat while Ari broke the speed limit down the West Side Highway at four in the morning.

Ari was not calm. He kept glancing at you like you might break open in the front seat.

“You okay?” he kept asking.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I think so.”

“You sure it’s not Braxton Hicks again?”

You glared.

“That was one time.”

“I still haven’t recovered.”

You huffed a laugh just as another wave slammed into you. You moaned and clutched the edge of the seat. 

Ari reached over blindly, offering his hand without taking his eyes off the road.

You squeezed. And he didn’t flinch. He never did with you.

At the hospital, walking took effort. You paused every few steps, panting. Ari let you brace against him, murmuring, “I’ve got you,” over and over like a mantra.

Inside, everything blurred. Monitors. Nurses. Antiseptic. Wristbands. The contractions sharpened. Ari stayed right there, one hand in yours, the other brushing sweat from your brow.

Twelve hours in, things got real.

You were dilated enough to scream but not enough to push. Your back felt like it was splitting. Your stomach twisted with every wave.

Your eyes welled with tears and you weren’t sure if it was pain or fear or hormones.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” Ari whispered.

You shook your head. 

“She’s never coming out. She’s going to live in there forever. I’m going to be the first woman to carry a full-grown adult.”

“She’ll be gorgeous,” Ari said softly. “But Baby, she’s coming. You’re doing so well. You’re strong. You’re already her whole world.”

Another contraction rolled through you like a storm. You screamed and gripped his shirt so hard the seams popped.

“I hate you!” you cried.

He nodded solemnly. “That’s fair.”

“I mean it.”

“Absolutely.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Copy that.”

You leaned into his chest and sobbed.

“I’m so scared.”

His hands cradled your face.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

At sixteen hours, everything shifted. You dilated. They called the doctor. The nurse raised the bed. The lights got brighter.

And suddenly, it was time.

You were drenched in sweat. Crying without realizing it, and gripping Ari’s hand like a lifeline.

“You’ve got this, Muse,” he said, voice low and steady, even as his own eyes glistened. “Bring her home.”

The doctor’s voice cut through the noise.

“Next contraction, push,” the doctor said.

You nodded, jaw clenched, legs trembling.

And you pushed. Until your throat was raw. Until you saw stars.

And then, you heard her.

A sharp, keening cry. One that broke your heart and healed it at the same time.

You collapsed against the pillows, laughing and sobbing as the world tilted. 

And then there she was, tiny and screaming her arrival.

Ari cut the cord with trembling hands. You watched him through tears as they placed her on your chest. Skin to skin. Warm and fragile and real. She blinked up at you, impossibly new. Lips parted. Fists curled. Her little chest was pumping.

You stared down at her and whispered, “Hey.”

She made a soft, searching sound and Ari sank to his knees beside you, head pressed to your shoulder. He was crying openly now.

“You did it,” he whispered. “You brought her home.”

“She’s perfect.”

“She’s ours.”

And for one long, breathless moment, the world disappeared.

—--

The room was quiet, lights dimmed, and the soft beep of the monitor the only sound. You ached in every limb, but your arms were full of everything that mattered.

She lay against your chest, skin to skin under a blanket, mouth parted in a perfect pout as she suckled in her sleep. Her heartbeat fluttered against you, fast and rabbit-quick.

Ari sat halfway on the bed, one hand tracing her spine, the other resting on your thigh like he couldn’t stop touching both of you at once.

“She smells like some kind of heaven,” he murmured.

You smiled faintly, dizzy with exhaustion and love. 

“You’re just high on pheromones and baby shampoo.”

His smile flickered, eyes never leaving her. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever believed in God until right now.”

A nurse stepped in to check vitals, and Ari gently lifted her from your chest. She curled into him instinctively, as if she’d always known the shape of his arms.

You watched him.

Big, strong hands holding her so gently, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. His whole body curved around her like a fortress.

The nurse smiled as she left. 

“That one’s wrapped,” she said, nodding toward Ari.

You nodded too, your eyes misting.

—-

You hadn’t officially told anyone her name. Not even the nurses. 

Not even your mother.

The hospital placard on the little bassinet beside your bed still read blank beside F: 6lb 7oz” and “June 21st, 8:32 PM.

Ari had insisted on waiting.

“It should come from you,” he said, fingers brushing the IV line taped to your hand. 

“You carried her. You fought for her. You get to say it first.”

You looked at the bassinet, where she slept swaddled, lashes impossibly long, nose like a button. Then back at him.

“Are you sure?”

“Say it.”

So you did. You whispered the name you’d once typed half-asleep into a shared notes file, inspired by a shoot in Morocco and a poem tucked into a forgotten book.

Cleo Noor Levinson

Ari closed his eyes like it was a spell. Cleo, one of the nine Muses, and Noor, meaning light.

Ari closed his eyes like he’d been waiting to hear it his whole life. Cleo, one of the nine muses. Noor, meaning light.

He leaned in and kissed your temple. “I knew that would be it.”

“You did?”

He rose, picked up the dry-erase marker, and wrote it on the placard with the focus of a man signing a masterpiece.

And just like that, she had a name.

—--

Ari took leave the moment you were discharged.

No emails. No delegation. Just a single call to the board and a quiet, “I’ll be off for the foreseeable future.”

The man who once ran international exhibits down to the minute now lived in newborn rhythms, feedings, cries, the rise and fall of her breath against his chest.

“I’ve already got the only masterpiece I need,” he said one night, her tiny form tucked inside his hoodie.

You weren’t alone for a second.

Your mother arrived first with a suitcase and surgical efficiency. She reorganized your freezer, folded onesies, made gumbo, and commented on your curtains.

Ari’s mother followed, bearing folk remedies and weepy prayers. She sobbed the first time she held the baby, then tucked hand-knit booties under the bassinet like protective charms.

Trixie, your editor, breezed in wearing a leather trench and designer sunglasses, holding a tray of gourmet lactation cookies.

“I don’t know what your hormones are doing, babe, but if we shoot the maternity line in August, I’ll cry.”

You hadn’t slept in 48 hours. There was milk in your hair. 

But you nodded, dazed, and said, “Sure.”

When Peach showed up, the door swung open with the wind, her four-month-old baby boy strapped to her chest, a pack of diapers under one arm and a bottle of prosecco under the other.

“You had a baby! I had a baby! Let’s compare battle wounds,” she cheered, already halfway in.

Peach’s baby, Kit Rogers, drooled into her blouse while she handed you nipple balm and kissed your cheek. 

“This one spits up like he’s in a frat. Need help latching? I’ve got techniques.”

You blinked. “I’m…okay?”

“Let me know when you’re not.”

Then came Mrs. Barnes, glowing and exhausted, her two-year-old Luca trailing behind her, sticky-handed and singing a made-up song about blueberries. She was seven months pregnant again and still the most effortlessly elegant person in any room.

“I brought muffins,” she said. “And my toddler, who may try to feed your baby a raisin. Good luck.”

Within minutes, your apartment was full of babies, strollers, toys, lactation snacks, and the low-grade chaos of maternal love.

Then came the newborn photo shoot. It was Trixie’s idea, but Ari made it perfect.

“You’ll want to remember this,” he said as he helped you oil your skin and slip into a soft robe.

The photographer, a quiet friend, barely spoke. The windows were wide open. Morning light poured in.

Ari was bare chested and impossibly handsome, the kind of man you still couldn’t believe was yours.

You held Cleo in your arms, skin to skin, her curls damp and soft against your chest. Ari stood behind you, arms wrapped around both of you, his face at your temple, his body shielding yours.

At one point, he took her into his arms and you watched through the lens as he kissed her tiny forehead, the barest whisper of breath against her soft abundance of curls.

“That’s the one,” the photographer said.

It wasn’t posed. It wasn’t perfect.

But it was love.

—--

You’d delayed your six-week postpartum visit more than once, until your mother took matters into her own hands. She was at your door when you returned from third rescheduled appointment and practically shoved you out the door as you side eyed Ari.

"You two need a night. She’ll be fine. Go," she said, already bouncing the baby with one hand and waving with the other.

You looked at Ari like you might cry. He looked back like he might carry you to the car.

Ari had booked the hotel. Just one night a short drive away with robes, white sheets, and a view of the skyline you used to chase.

You felt like cancelling, but Ari reminded you of the doctor’s words: You’re healing beautifully. You’re clear to resume sexual activity whenever you feel ready.

And you’d clutched Ari’s hand, breath caught in your throat, unsure if ready was even a thing anymore or just an abstract concept.

—-

You stood in the middle of the hotel room, unsure what to do with your hands. Ari was already kicking off his shoes, eyes trained on you.

“I can order room service,” he offered gently. “Or we can just sleep.”

You nodded, then turned to face him.

“I missed you.”

His eyes softened instantly.

“I’m right here.”

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted softly.

He stepped behind you, just close enough to warm the back of your neck with his breath.

“I do.”

He eased off your shirt, his shirt, then your nursing tank, stopping at your bra.

“May I?”

You nodded.

He eased the bra straps down your arms, unclasped it gently, and let it fall. Your breasts were full, heavier now, darker at the nipples. You didn’t dare look at him. But he let out a breath like he’d been punched.

“Goddamn,” he whispered.

You crossed your arms instinctively, but he caught your wrists and kissed each one.

“Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you.”

When he knelt, it startled you.

You looked down at him, this man, your husband on his knees for you. He slid your leggings and underwear down, kissed your knee, your thigh, the faint silver lines at your hips.

"These are mine," he murmured. "My favorite art."

“My body’s different.”

“It’s yours.” He looked up at you. 

“She grew here. Right here. This body made her. This body fed her. Carried her. Protected her.”

He pressed a kiss just below your navel.

“I worship this body,” he said. “I will never stop.”

Your throat tightened. You reached down and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours.”

He stood then, shedding his own clothes piece by piece as he stepped toward you, letting you take in the long line of his torso, the soft trail of hair, the muscles still carved from habit and stress and devotion.

He wasn’t trying to be seductive. He didn’t need to.

You’d never wanted anyone more in your life. But…

“I’m scared,” you whispered. “Of it hurting. Of it… not feeling the same.”

He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead.

“Then we’ll go slow. And if it doesn’t feel good, we stop.”

You nodded.

When he guided you back to the bed,you laid down and he hovered above you, eyes drinking in every sign that your body had been through something world changing.

“You’re so damn beautiful.”

His mouth found your throat first. Then your collarbone.

He kissed the heavier swell of your breasts, then ran his tongue slowly over your nipple before closing his mouth around it, sucking just enough to make your back arch. Your fingers gripped his shoulders.

“Still so sensitive,” he hummed, moving to the other breast. “I love how you respond to me.”

Then, he went down.

He kissed every stretch mark. Every inch of softened skin. Pressed his cheek to your belly and exhaled.

“I will never get over this body.”

And then his mouth was between your legs, and you forgot how to breathe.

He licked you with slow, purposeful strokes, his thumbs parting you gently. He wasn’t trying to make you come. Not yet. He was just reacquainting himself with you, but you came anyway, overwhelmed and sobbing.

“I’m yours,” he said, again and again, against your body. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

You reached down and wrapped your hand around his cock, hard and heavy and slick.

“Please,” you whispered. “I need you inside me.”

He froze. Then nodded. Then he braced his thick head at your entrance, and slid in slowly. You gasped, biting your lip, feeling the stretch.

Your body remembering.

Relearning. 

Accommodating him again.

When he was fully inside, he stilled.

“You okay?”

You nodded, eyes wide.

“You feel so good. ‘M so full.”

He moved, just a little, and you whimpered.

“Fuck,” he groaned, forehead to yours. “So tight. You’re still made for me.”

You held him close and rocked your hips, needing more. Wanting all of it. All of him.

When he started to thrust in earnest, you clung to him, hips meeting with slow, rhythmic intensity. You weren’t quiet, and neither was he; you sobbed into his shoulder, and he grunted into your neck.

He kissed your temple and murmured, “I missed you.”

“I missed us,” you whispered back.

You came again, more gently this time, your body fluttering around him.

Ari didn’t last much longer.

He buried his face in your hair as he spilled inside you calling your name.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you more now than I ever knew I could,” Ari replied.

—--

You drifted for a while. And then his hands started to explore your body again. 

“Ari,” you breathed.

“I know,” he whispered, his mouth already at your neck. 

“But I need you again.”

This time, he didn’t wait. He rolled you onto your stomach and slid in from behind, one arm under your chest, the other gripping your hip. You gasped, the angle sharper, the stretch deeper. The sound you made drove him wild.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned against your shoulder. 

“Even tighter now. Wetter.”

He thrust deeper. Rougher. Every stroke coaxing louder cries from your lips. You reached back for him, nails digging into his thigh, as he fucked you slow and deep, hips snapping with practiced rhythm. You felt every inch, every ridge, and the weight of his need to claim you again.

When he came this time, he spilled into you thickly, whispering your name so angelically. Still, he didn’t stop touching you.

The third time came later, after water, midnight room service, a shower, and quiet laughter as you lay naked on the cool sheets.

You kissed him first, straddled him and took him in slowly, inch by inch, watching his face twist in pleasure.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he rasped. 

“Ride me just like that.”

You moved slowly at first. Then faster. Grinding your hips until he couldn’t stop moaning. You came, your hips shaking. He came not long after, gripping your waist, panting into your mouth.

Then it was soft again, warm.

You laid side by side in the glow of the bedside lamp, your legs tangled and your foreheads pressed together.

You whispered about the baby, about how full your heart felt, how weird your body still was, and how you’d never been more in love.

He kissed your wrist.

You touched his hair.

Then, again.

Ari kissed down your stomach and between your legs. Slid his tongue into you and made you cum. And then he fucked you while sitting up, both of you facing the window, city lights flickering against your skin.

The last time, just before dawn, was the least careful of all.

He took you up against the bathroom counter after another shower. Your thighs were wet with slick. The mirror was fogged. And you were dripping down his cock before he even thrust inside.

He grabbed your hair, murmuring filth into your ear while he moved inside you, harder this time, like he couldn’t help himself.

“You missed this too, huh?” he growled. “Missed the way I fuck you? You gonna let me fill you up again, Sweetheart?”

You moaned your answer, half incoherent, and came around him again as he filled you once more, biting your shoulder as he spilled.

You were shaking when he cleaned you up and wrapped you in a towel.

He kissed your stomach as he knelt in front of you.

“I love this body. I love you,” he said again. “Every version of you.”

You barely made it to the bed before you passed out in his arms.

—---

The next morning, you barely had time to fumble with the keys before the apartment door opened. Your mother stood there, barefoot in sweats, cradling the baby against her chest and looking smug.

“Well,” she said, one brow arched as her gaze swept over you and Ari. 

“You two look like you just got back from the honeymoon you didn’t take.”

You blinked at her, stunned. Ari chuckled under his breath.

You both did look different. Hair a mess, skin flushed. Your clothes were slightly rumpled from a morning of moving slowly and two pushed back checkouts because you didn’t want to leave that hotel bed. 

Your mom’s knowing grin only widened when she took you in.

“You’re welcome,” she added, handing your daughter over with a kiss on her tiny forehead. 

“She slept. I didn’t.”

You melted the moment your baby was back in your arms, her little fists curled under her chin, cheeks warm against your shoulder. Ari stood behind you, pressing a kiss to both your temple and hers, his hand resting on your lower back.

“Miss us, baby girl?” he murmured.

She cooed softly, half-asleep.

You and Ari exchanged a glance, melting, again, so in love it was hopeless.

—--

The next few days found you settling into something real, something new.

Your mother stayed for two more evenings, spoiling her granddaughter and watching you both with a kind of quiet satisfaction. Then, Ari’s mother arrived, sweeping in with meals, a silk wrap, and tears the second she held her grandchild.

“It’s not even fair,” she whispered one night, rocking the baby with a smile. “She got all the best parts of both of you.”

After that, the rhythm found its footing.

Mornings became sacred, half caf coffee, nursing, Ari holding the baby over his shoulder while you stole a shower, the quiet hum of domestic life.

Nights were warm and soft and sometimes sexy again. 

Not every night. 

But enough.

—---

Two more weeks and then it was time to go back to work.

Ari went back to Red Sea full-time. You weren’t ready for that pace yet, not with feedings and pumping and hormones and missing her every time you blinked. So you returned part-time at Muse, easing into editorial again with Trixie at your side.

You also began interviewing nannies.

Ari insisted on being there for every interview, sharp-eyed and surprisingly open-minded. Eventually, you found two who felt right, a weekday and a weekend rotation. Not to replace you. Just to help.

Your first real modeling job came a few weeks after that. Just a short editorial campaign.

You were nervous. But when you stepped into frame, something clicked.

And when Ari arrived at the end of the shoot, the baby strapped to his chest in a soft green sling, his eyes went wide.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, watching you pose with quiet intensity. “That’s my wife.”

The photographer caught him staring, and snapped a candid of you looking down at your daughter between takes, a beam of light catching the ring on your finger.

“She’s a goddess,” Ari said to no one in particular. “That’s my whole world right there.”

He worshipped you that night. 

And your daughter giggled the next morning when he kissed you before breakfast, as if she knew that even now, you were still everything he wanted.

——

Love this little family. 🥹

[informativearticlesforyou]

Credit Card Fraud Prevention: Tips for Safer Transactions

Credit cards have become essential to our financial lives, offering unmatched convenience for purchases, bill payments, and even international transactions. But with this convenience comes a growing concern—credit card fraud. As digital payments become more common, fraudsters constantly find new ways to exploit vulnerabilities. Understanding how to protect yourself is no longer optional; it’s necessary.

Whether exploring great credit card offers or managing your monthly expenses, knowing how to use your card safely can save you from stress and financial trouble. Let’s dive into effective ways to ensure safer credit card transactions and secure your financial information.

Be Cautious with Card Information Sharing

The most basic yet often overlooked tip is never sharing your credit card details unless necessary. This includes your card number, CVV, expiration date, and OTPs. Phishing emails, scam calls, and fake websites are common traps criminals use to get this information. Always verify the authenticity of the source before entering or sharing your card details.

Avoid saving your card information on websites you don’t completely trust, even if they offer great credit card offers as part of their deal. It’s always better to type in your card information each time rather than risk your data being stored insecurely.

Use Strong Passwords and Secure Devices

A strong password is your first line of defense. For online banking and credit card portals, use complex combinations of letters, numbers, and symbols. Avoid using easily guessable information like your name or birthdate. Change your passwords regularly, and don’t reuse them across multiple platforms.

Keep your phone, laptop, and any other devices you use for transactions up to date with the latest software and security patches. These updates often include fixes for newly discovered vulnerabilities that hackers may try to exploit.

Monitor Your Transactions Regularly

Staying alert is key. Make it a habit to check your credit card statements and transaction history frequently. Unfamiliar charges, even if small, could be signs of fraudulent activity. If you notice anything unusual, report it to your card issuer immediately.

Many credit cards today offer real-time transaction alerts via SMS or email. These notifications can help you act quickly if your card is being misused. Even if you’re using a 0 bank transfer credit card, fraud detection remains essential because criminals don’t discriminate based on the card type.

Shop Only on Secure Websites

When shopping online, always look for the padlock symbol in the address bar and ensure the website URL starts with “https.” This indicates that the website is encrypted and safer for entering sensitive information.

Be wary of too-good-to-be-true deals or pop-up ads promising great credit card offers from unknown platforms. Fraudsters often create fake websites that mimic genuine retailers, so stick to trusted sites and double-check the web address before purchasing.

Beware of Public Wi-Fi Networks

Shopping or making quick payments using free public Wi-Fi in cafes, airports, or malls is tempting, but these networks are often unsecured. Using your credit card on such networks can expose your data to hackers monitoring the traffic.

Suppose you must transact while on public Wi-Fi; use a virtual private network (VPN) to encrypt your connection and protect your data. This is particularly important if you’re accessing your 0 bank transfer credit card account or making online purchases.

Enable Two-Factor Authentication

Two-factor authentication (2FA) adds an extra layer of security by requiring you to confirm your identity through an additional step, such as an OTP or a biometric scan. Most banks and financial institutions offer 2FA as an option, and enabling it significantly reduces the chances of unauthorized access.

Even if someone gets hold of your login credentials, they’ll need the second authentication factor to complete any transaction, giving you an added safeguard.

Report Lost or Stolen Cards Immediately

If your credit card is lost or stolen, act quickly. Contact your card issuer to block the card and prevent any misuse. Most banks offer a 24/7 helpline for such emergencies. Delaying your response can increase the risk of fraudulent transactions being made in your name.

Request a replacement card and ask the issuer to monitor your account for suspicious activity. Whether it’s a premium card or a 0 bank transfer credit card, early reporting can significantly limit the damage.

Stay Updated on Fraud Trends

Credit card fraud tactics evolve constantly. Stay informed by following financial news, reading updates from your bank, and being aware of the latest scams. Some issuers provide educational material and fraud alerts to help you stay ahead of potential threats.

Understanding the latest methods used by scammers empowers you to take proactive steps. Even if you’ve opted for one of the great credit card offers, your awareness and caution remain your best protection.

Final Thoughts

Credit cards can simplify your financial life when used responsibly but also demand attention and vigilance. By taking a proactive approach—monitoring your accounts, securing your devices, and being cautious with your information—you can protect yourself from credit card fraud and enjoy the benefits of your card worry-free.

Whether using a 0 bank transfer credit card to manage balances or seeking some credit card offers to maximize your benefits, ensuring safe transactions should always be your top priority. With the right precautions, you can keep fraud at bay and confidently use your card.

[xaltius]

Beyond Passwords: Exploring Advanced Authentication Methods

For decades, the humble password has been the gatekeeper to our digital lives. But in an era of increasingly sophisticated cyber threats and the sheer volume of online accounts we manage, passwords are showing their age. They're easily forgotten, susceptible to phishing attacks, and often the weakest link in our security chain. Thankfully, the future of authentication is here, offering a range of more secure and user-friendly methods that go far beyond the traditional password. Let's explore some of these exciting advancements.

The Password Problem: Why We Need to Evolve

Before diving into the alternatives, it's crucial to understand why passwords are no longer cutting it:

Human Fallibility: We're prone to choosing weak passwords, reusing them across multiple sites, and forgetting them, leading to frustration and insecure practices.

Phishing Attacks: Social engineering tactics like phishing emails can easily trick users into revealing their passwords.

Brute-Force Attacks: Automated tools can try millions of password combinations in a short amount of time.

Data Breaches: Massive databases of compromised passwords are regularly exposed, putting countless accounts at risk.

The Rise of Stronger Authentication Methods:

The good news is that a new wave of authentication technologies is emerging, offering enhanced security and often a more seamless user experience.

1. Multi-Factor Authentication (MFA): Layering Up Security

While not a complete replacement for passwords, MFA is a crucial step beyond them. It requires users to provide two or more verification factors to gain access. These factors typically fall into three categories:

Something you know: Your password or PIN.

Something you have: A physical token, a smartphone receiving a one-time code (OTP), or a security key.

Something you are: Biometric authentication like fingerprint scanning, facial recognition, or iris scanning.

MFA significantly reduces the risk of unauthorized access, even if a password is compromised.

2. Biometric Authentication: Leveraging Your Unique Identity

Biometrics uses unique biological characteristics to verify identity. Common methods include:

Fingerprint Scanning: Convenient and widely adopted on smartphones and laptops.

Facial Recognition: Using facial features to identify and authenticate users. Advancements are making it more secure against spoofing.

Iris Scanning: Analyzing the unique patterns in the iris of the eye, offering a high level of accuracy.

Voice Recognition: Authenticating users based on their unique voice patterns.

Biometrics offers a strong combination of security and convenience, eliminating the need to remember complex passwords.

3. Security Keys (Physical Tokens): The Hardware Fortress

Security keys are physical devices that plug into a computer's USB port or connect wirelessly (NFC, Bluetooth). They use cryptographic protocols to verify the user's identity and ensure the legitimacy of the login attempt. Security keys are highly resistant to phishing and other remote attacks, offering a very strong level of security.

4. Passwordless Authentication: Saying Goodbye to Passwords Entirely

The ultimate goal for many is to move beyond passwords altogether. Several passwordless authentication methods are gaining traction:

Magic Links: A unique, time-sensitive link is sent to the user's email or phone. Clicking the link verifies their identity and grants access.

Biometric Authentication (as a primary factor): Using fingerprint or facial recognition as the sole method of authentication, often tied to a secure element on the device.

FIDO2 (Fast Identity Online): An open standard that enables strong, passwordless authentication across websites and applications using biometrics or security keys.

Push Notifications: A notification is sent to a trusted device, requiring the user to approve the login attempt.

5. Behavioral Biometrics: Learning Your Unique Habits

This emerging technology analyzes unique patterns in how users interact with their devices, such as typing speed, mouse movements, scrolling patterns, and even gait. By establishing a baseline of normal behavior, the system can detect anomalies that might indicate unauthorized access. Behavioral biometrics adds a layer of continuous authentication, monitoring user activity even after login.

The Future of Access: A Multi-Layered Approach

The future of authentication is likely to be a multi-layered approach, combining several of these advanced methods to create a more secure and user-friendly experience. We might see a world where:

Logging into your laptop involves facial recognition combined with a security key for sensitive actions.

Accessing your bank account requires fingerprint authentication and a one-time code sent to your phone.

Continuous authentication through behavioral biometrics silently monitors your activity for any suspicious patterns.

Embracing the Evolution:

Moving beyond passwords is not just a matter of convenience; it's a necessity for enhanced security in an increasingly complex digital landscape. As these advanced authentication methods become more widely adopted, we can look forward to a future where our digital lives are better protected, and the frustration of forgotten passwords becomes a distant memory. It's time to embrace the evolution and step into a more secure and seamless authentication future.

[tenebrius-excellium]

1. “Tumblr is not easy to use” the rest of us got it, didn’t we? Also it got significantly harder and messier to use based on what changes were made since 2017!

2. “Experiment with logged-out Tumblr” take it back to how it looked in 2017 where the signup page promoted a single, classy-looking work of art (left), instead of whatever this is (right):

3. "We must deliver great content each time the app is opened." Yes but No. Yes you want the content to be representative of what Tumblr is about and to be of high quality. But don't go searching for something forcefully. CREATING that content is NOT your job. That's OURS. You need to encourage Tumblr users to produce so much high quality content on their own (again) that it simply becomes the average view upon opening the app. That happens by making the users relaxed and worriless, by giving them ease and control. Right now, the very crashing use of this site seems a hotter topic than to make art and write poems. Why are we engaging in the Twitter war instead of baking elephant-shaped raisin bread? Because we're too worried we could lose this site. STAY AWAY FROM ALGORITHMS.

4. "Addressing the confusion within replies and reblogs." We tag each other. Problem solved. The only real problem that makes everyone very uncomfortable and sents them rightfully running from a post is this:

We'd rather see everything than wonder what happened. This creates too much insecurity and is the start of censorship. If there's an unwanted comment there, we can just block the person. Just get rid of the pornbot infestation.

5. "Lack of feedback stems from the outdated decision to only show content from followed blogs." No. Lack of feedback stems from the fact that I can't search for new blogs (also a feature from back in 2017). I haven't really followed a new person in years. Why? Because blogs aren't recommended in the search function. WHERE I SEARCH FOR THEM. Which I want to do. Which I don't anymore because unwanted stuff is shoved onto my dashboard. Now I just want to get rid of the annoyance. Let people search for what they want.

There's also the aspect where Tumblr has lost almost all its visual appeal due to the shitty blog view. It was a calm side drawer which allowed a quick overview, like this (left):

The central pop-up (right) is so messy and non-functional. Notice how the description and the first post are entirely cut off. You don't know where to look first, where to click, what to do.

Alternatively, clicking on a blog was used to open a new tab. In 2017, people made use of their blog page filling the entire screen. They made elaborate and complex blog designs, bought templates and experimented with the HTML. Every blog was beautiful and showed the user's investment like a Carrd (left). They also counted on the entire internet reading their blog, not just Tumblr users. With the sign-up wall, this is no longer possible, so why bother? Now, everyone uses basic templates because nobody actually goes on people's full blog views anymore (right). The art of blog design has been lost. Gosh we had music players on there! Less artsy pages means cheaper memes and shitposts which means less quality art and less engagement with fanart, which makes Tumblr slowly become a text-only-based site that talks about nothing but its own function. It's as if Whatsapp users kept saying "Whatsapp is so shitty why are we still here" instead of messaging others, which is its use. A site's use must become an art or become invisible, but it can NEVER be the content of its own conversation.

6. "Build mechanisms to protect creators from being spammed by notifications when they go viral." Turn off notifications, done.

7. "Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr." I don't want to be spammed by e-mails. People will come when the site is amazing enough. It used to be (guess when. Guess). And it can be again. People need to be drawn to this site, not to be reminded that it exists. Tumblr has the potential to be fascinating.

8. "Improve performance, stability, and quality" Yes. But don't shove Tumblr Labs on us. We will come, attracted like mice, if something is good. THAT'S HOW TUMBLR WORKS.

Please think about what "letting the user control their experience" means.

Social media becomes an increasingly passive advertising game. The user has no control over their experience. The user must receive tools to create, not have their experience thrown at them by math. Users like to act intelligent, not to look at artificial intelligence.

TLDR: @staff If you went fully, 100% back to 2017 Tumblr, I would scream with joy. The crabs and frogs felt like that. That's why we liked them. Because it was harmless art. Fix the following things: Bot infestation, blog view should be sidebar not central, enable people to search for blogs again, don't hide replies, get rid of the sign-up wall and bring the more beautiful log-in page back. Additional: Get rid of Community Labels and Tumblr Live.

Tumblr’s Core Product Strategy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on reorganizing how we work in a bid to gain more users. A larger user base means a more sustainable company, and means we get to stick around and do this thing with you all a bit longer. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. The @labs group has published a bit already, but this is bigger. We’re publishing it publicly for the first time, in an effort to work more transparently with all of you in the Tumblr community. This strategy provides guidance amid limited resources, allowing our teams to focus on specific key areas to ensure Tumblr’s future.

The Diagnosis

In order for Tumblr to grow, we need to fix the core experience that makes Tumblr a useful place for users. The underlying problem is that Tumblr is not easy to use. Historically, we have expected users to curate their feeds and lean into curating their experience. But this expectation introduces friction to the user experience and only serves a small portion of our audience. 

Tumblr’s competitive advantage lies in its unique content and vibrant communities. As the forerunner of internet culture, Tumblr encompasses a wide range of interests, such as entertainment, art, gaming, fandom, fashion, and music. People come to Tumblr to immerse themselves in this culture, making it essential for us to ensure a seamless connection between people and content. 

To guarantee Tumblr’s continued success, we’ve got to prioritize fostering that seamless connection between people and content. This involves attracting and retaining new users and creators, nurturing their growth, and encouraging frequent engagement with the platform.

Our Guiding Principles

To enhance Tumblr’s usability, we must address these core guiding principles.

Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Retain and grow our creator base.

Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Improve the platform’s performance, stability, and quality.

Below is a deep dive into each of these principles.

Principle 1: Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Tumblr has a “top of the funnel” issue in converting non-users into engaged logged-in users. We also have not invested in industry standard SEO practices to ensure a robust top of the funnel. The referral traffic that we do get from external sources is dispersed across different pages with inconsistent user experiences, which results in a missed opportunity to convert these users into regular Tumblr users. For example, users from search engines often land on pages within the blog network and blog view—where there isn’t much of a reason to sign up. 

We need to experiment with logged-out tumblr.com to ensure we are capturing the highest potential conversion rate for visitors into sign-ups and log-ins. We might want to explore showing the potential future user the full breadth of content that Tumblr has to offer on our logged-out pages. We want people to be able to easily understand the potential behind Tumblr without having to navigate multiple tabs and pages to figure it out. Our current logged-out explore page does very little to help users understand “what is Tumblr.” which is a missed opportunity to get people excited about joining the site.

Actions & Next Steps

Improving Tumblr’s search engine optimization (SEO) practices to be in line with industry standards.

Experiment with logged out tumblr.com to achieve the highest conversion rate for sign-ups and log-ins, explore ways for visitors to “get” Tumblr and entice them to sign up.

Principle 2: Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

We need to ensure the highest quality user experience by presenting fresh and relevant content tailored to the user’s diverse interests during each session. If the user has a bad content experience, the fault lies with the product.

The default position should always be that the user does not know how to navigate the application. Additionally, we need to ensure that when people search for content related to their interests, it is easily accessible without any confusing limitations or unexpected roadblocks in their journey.

Being a 15-year-old brand is tough because the brand carries the baggage of a person’s preconceived impressions of Tumblr. On average, a user only sees 25 posts per session, so the first 25 posts have to convey the value of Tumblr: it is a vibrant community with lots of untapped potential. We never want to leave the user believing that Tumblr is a place that is stale and not relevant. 

Actions & Next Steps

Deliver great content each time the app is opened.

Make it easier for users to understand where the vibrant communities on Tumblr are. 

Improve our algorithmic ranking capabilities across all feeds. 

Principle 3: Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Part of Tumblr’s charm lies in its capacity to showcase the evolution of conversations and the clever remarks found within reblog chains and replies. Engaging in these discussions should be enjoyable and effortless.

Unfortunately, the current way that conversations work on Tumblr across replies and reblogs is confusing for new users. The limitations around engaging with individual reblogs, replies only applying to the original post, and the inability to easily follow threaded conversations make it difficult for users to join the conversation.

Actions & Next Steps

Address the confusion within replies and reblogs.

Improve the conversational posting features around replies and reblogs. 

Allow engagements on individual replies and reblogs.

Make it easier for users to follow the various conversation paths within a reblog thread. 

Remove clutter in the conversation by collapsing reblog threads. 

Explore the feasibility of removing duplicate reblogs within a user’s Following feed. 

Principle 4: Retain and grow our creator base.

Creators are essential to the Tumblr community. However, we haven’t always had a consistent and coordinated effort around retaining, nurturing, and growing our creator base.  

Being a new creator on Tumblr can be intimidating, with a high likelihood of leaving or disappointment upon sharing creations without receiving engagement or feedback. We need to ensure that we have the expected creator tools and foster the rewarding feedback loops that keep creators around and enable them to thrive.

The lack of feedback stems from the outdated decision to only show content from followed blogs on the main dashboard feed (“Following”), perpetuating a cycle where popular blogs continue to gain more visibility at the expense of helping new creators. To address this, we need to prioritize supporting and nurturing the growth of new creators on the platform.

It is also imperative that creators, like everyone on Tumblr, feel safe and in control of their experience. Whether it be an ask from the community or engagement on a post, being successful on Tumblr should never feel like a punishing experience.

Actions & Next Steps

Get creators’ new content in front of people who are interested in it. 

Improve the feedback loop for creators, incentivizing them to continue posting.

Build mechanisms to protect creators from being spammed by notifications when they go viral.

Expand ways to co-create content, such as by adding the capability to embed Tumblr links in posts.

Principle 5: Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Push notifications and emails are essential tools to increase user engagement, improve user retention, and facilitate content discovery. Our strategy of reaching out to you, the user, should be well-coordinated across product, commercial, and marketing teams.

Our messaging strategy needs to be personalized and adapt to a user’s shifting interests. Our messages should keep users in the know on the latest activity in their community, as well as keeping Tumblr top of mind as the place to go for witty takes and remixes of the latest shows and real-life events.  

Most importantly, our messages should be thoughtful and should never come across as spammy.  

Actions & Next Steps

Conduct an audit of our messaging strategy.

Address the issue of notifications getting too noisy; throttle, collapse or mute notifications where necessary.  

Identify opportunities for personalization within our email messages. 

Test what the right daily push notification limit is. 

Send emails when a user has push notifications switched off.

Principle 6: Performance, stability and quality.

The stability and performance of our mobile apps have declined. There is a large backlog of production issues, with more bugs created than resolved over the last 300 days. If this continues, roughly one new unresolved production issue will be created every two days. Apps and backend systems that work well and don't crash are the foundation of a great Tumblr experience. Improving performance, stability, and quality will help us achieve sustainable operations for Tumblr.

Improve performance and stability: deliver crash-free, responsive, and fast-loading apps on Android, iOS, and web.

Improve quality: deliver the highest quality Tumblr experience to our users. 

Move faster: provide APIs and services to unblock core product initiatives and launch new features coming out of Labs.

Conclusion

Our mission has always been to empower the world’s creators. We are wholly committed to ensuring Tumblr evolves in a way that supports our current users while improving areas that attract new creators, artists, and users. You deserve a digital home that works for you. You deserve the best tools and features to connect with your communities on a platform that prioritizes the easy discoverability of high-quality content. This is an invigorating time for Tumblr, and we couldn’t be more excited about our current strategy.

[hipaaautomatedmails]

Achieving HIPAA Compliance in Your Print and Mail Processes

The Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) sets strict guidelines for protecting sensitive patient information. Organizations handling Protected Health Information (PHI), including healthcare providers, insurers, and business associates, must ensure that their print and mail processes comply with HIPAA regulations. Failure to do so can result in severe penalties, reputational damage, and legal action.

In this article, we will explore the key aspects of achieving HIPAA compliant mailing processes, best practices to secure sensitive data, and how organizations can mitigate risks while maintaining efficiency.

Understanding HIPAA Compliance in Print and Mail

HIPAA compliance involves adhering to the Privacy Rule, Security Rule, and Breach Notification Rule to safeguard patient information. When it comes to printing and mailing PHI, specific regulations apply:

Privacy Rule: Requires organizations to protect PHI from unauthorized access and disclosure.

Security Rule: Mandates administrative, physical, and technical safeguards to ensure data security.

Breach Notification Rule: Obligates covered entities to report security breaches affecting PHI.

Any organization that prints or mails documents containing PHI must establish protocols to comply with these rules.

Key Risks in Print and Mail Processes

Traditional print and mail operations pose several risks to HIPAA compliance, including:

Unauthorized Access: Improper handling of printed materials can expose PHI to unauthorized individuals.

Misdirected Mail: Errors in mailing addresses or envelope stuffing can result in PHI being sent to the wrong recipient.

Insecure Storage and Disposal: Storing or disposing of printed materials without security measures can lead to data breaches.

Lack of Audit Trails: Without tracking and monitoring mechanisms, organizations may struggle to demonstrate compliance in the event of an audit.

Best Practices for HIPAA-Compliant Print and Mail

To minimize risks and ensure compliance, organizations should implement the following best practices:

1. Implement Secure Printing Practices

Use authorized personnel for handling PHI-related printing tasks.

Employ secure print release technology to prevent unauthorized document access.

Utilize encryption and password protection for digital print jobs.

2. Ensure Accurate Mailing Processes

Implement automated address validation to reduce mailing errors.

Use barcoded tracking systems for mail pieces containing PHI.

Conduct double-check procedures to prevent mismatched patient information.

3. Secure Storage and Disposal of Printed Materials

Store PHI-containing documents in locked, access-controlled areas.

Use shredding or certified document destruction services for proper disposal.

Maintain a retention policy that complies with HIPAA regulations.

4. Establish Audit Trails and Monitoring

Use document tracking software to monitor print and mail activities.

Conduct regular audits and compliance assessments to identify vulnerabilities.

Maintain detailed logs of all printed and mailed PHI-related documents.

5. Partner with HIPAA-Compliant Print and Mail Vendors

Choose vendors that offer Business Associate Agreements (BAAs).

Ensure vendors implement HIPAA-required security measures.

Verify vendor certifications and compliance history.

Conclusion

HIPAA compliance in print and mail processes is essential for protecting patient data and avoiding costly violations. By implementing secure printing, accurate mailing, proper storage, and compliance monitoring, organizations can safeguard PHI while maintaining operational efficiency. Partnering with HIPAA-compliant print and mail vendors further strengthens security and compliance efforts.

SITES WE SUPPORT

HIPAA Automated Mails – ​​​Wix

[chimeraflowposter]

The Evolution of Mobile App Development with JavaScript: Bridging the Gap Between Web and Native

In the dynamic world of mobile app development, JavaScript has emerged as a powerful tool, enabling developers to create cross-platform applications with ease and efficiency. The rise of frameworks like React Native, Ionic, and NativeScript has revolutionized the way mobile apps are built, allowing developers to leverage their existing web development skills to create high-performance, native-like applications. This shift has not only reduced development time but also bridged the gap between web and mobile platforms, making JavaScript a cornerstone of modern app development.

One of the most significant advantages of using JavaScript for mobile app development is the ability to write cross-platform code. Unlike traditional native development, which requires separate codebases for iOS and Android, frameworks like React Native enable developers to write a single codebase that can be deployed on multiple platforms. This approach, known as "write once, run anywhere," significantly reduces development costs and time-to-market. React Native, in particular, has gained widespread adoption due to its ability to render native components, providing a user experience that is nearly indistinguishable from that of a fully native app.

The concept of "hybrid apps" has also played a pivotal role in the evolution of mobile app development. Hybrid apps are essentially web applications wrapped in a native container, allowing them to be distributed through app stores and accessed on mobile devices. Frameworks like Ionic and Cordova facilitate this process by providing a bridge between web technologies (HTML, CSS, and JavaScript) and native device APIs. This enables developers to access device features such as the camera, GPS, and accelerometer, while still using familiar web development tools and techniques.

Performance has always been a critical consideration in mobile app development, and JavaScript frameworks have made significant strides in this area. React Native, for instance, uses a bridge to communicate between JavaScript and native code, allowing for near-native performance. Additionally, the use of Just-In-Time (JIT) and Ahead-Of-Time (AOT) compilation techniques has further optimized the execution of JavaScript code, reducing latency and improving app responsiveness. Tools like Hermes, a JavaScript engine optimized for React Native, have also contributed to faster startup times and reduced memory usage, making JavaScript-based apps more competitive with their native counterparts.

The rise of Progressive Web Apps (PWAs) has further blurred the lines between web and mobile app development. PWAs are web applications that leverage modern web capabilities to deliver an app-like experience on mobile devices. They can be installed on the user's home screen, work offline, and even send push notifications, thanks to technologies like service workers and Web App Manifests. While PWAs are not distributed through app stores, they offer a compelling alternative for businesses looking to reach users without the overhead of native app development.

Security is another critical aspect of mobile app development, and JavaScript frameworks have introduced various measures to address potential vulnerabilities. For instance, React Native provides built-in support for secure storage and encryption, ensuring that sensitive data is protected. Additionally, the use of HTTPS and secure authentication mechanisms helps safeguard data transmitted between the app and the server. Developers must also be vigilant about common security threats such as Cross-Site Scripting (XSS) and Insecure Data Storage, adopting best practices to mitigate these risks.

The future of JavaScript-based mobile app development is being shaped by emerging technologies and trends. WebAssembly (Wasm), for example, is poised to revolutionize the performance of web and mobile apps by enabling the execution of high-performance code written in languages like C++ and Rust. Similarly, the adoption of GraphQL for data fetching and management is gaining traction, offering a more efficient and flexible alternative to traditional REST APIs. These advancements, combined with the continuous evolution of JavaScript frameworks, are driving the next generation of mobile app development.

In conclusion, JavaScript has become an indispensable tool in the mobile app development landscape, offering a versatile and efficient way to build cross-platform applications. From hybrid apps and PWAs to performance optimization and security, JavaScript frameworks have addressed many of the challenges traditionally associated with mobile development. As the ecosystem continues to evolve, JavaScript will undoubtedly remain at the forefront of innovation, empowering developers to create the next generation of mobile experiences.

Make order Tg Bot or Mobile app from us: @ChimeraFlowAssistantBot

Our portfolio: https://www.linkedin.com/company/chimeraflow

[marketanalysisdata]

Perimeter Security Market Size, Demands, Growth and Top Key Players Analysis Report

The global perimeter security market size is expected to reach USD 132.4 billion by 2030, registering a CAGR of 9.4% from 2023 to 2030, according to a new report by Grand View Research, Inc. The increasing insecurities among civilians and the rising illegal activities, such as planned crimes, thefts, smuggling, and human trafficking, have led to a rise in the adoption of perimeter security systems. Technological proliferation has led to the growth of smart cities and smart infrastructure. Owing to this, the implementation of security systems at commercial complexes, entertainment hubs, and public sites is on the rise. The integration of security systems with the internet and the latest mobile devices has made surveillance easier. The latest technology has also led to the introduction of infrared, microwave, radar, and seismic sensors.

The video surveillance systems segment is expected to register the fastest CAGR over the forecast period due to the large-scale investments in smart infrastructure projects by various nations. The global need to improve safety and security across many industries is considerably contributing to the market growth. In comparison to the preceding decade, the surveillance market has changed due to significant advances in cloud hosting and video surveillance software. The alarms & notification systems are expected to grow at a slow pace in the market over the forecast period. The maintenance & support systems are anticipated to witness the fastest growth over the next eight years. Perimeter security systems are expected to find major applications in the transportation end-use segment.

The growth in terrorist threat and cross-border intrusions has forced governments to enact strict regulations regarding national safety, leading to market expansion. The fast-paced development of smart cities and smart infrastructure in Europe and the U.S. is one of the key factors driving the market. The government increasingly favors installing various security systems in strategic sites. Technological development related to automation has accelerated the adoption of the latest methods, such as video analytics and aerial drones, to produce better results.

Gather more insights about the market drivers, restrains and growth of the Global Perimeter Security Market

Perimeter Security Market Report Highlights

The system integration & consulting services segment dominated the market in 2022 and is estimated to generate high revenue by 2030.

System integration & consulting services help businesses create opportunities to drive high performance and accelerate business innovation; thereby creating growth opportunities for the segment.

The demand for perimeter security systems arises in the energy sector for securing power plants and protecting them against external threats and technology misuse, especially in nuclear power plants. In an attempt to enhance security, organizations install internet-based and automated security systems.

Increasing concerns regarding public security & safety, growing demand for spy cameras, and rising adoption of IP cameras are driving the video surveillance systems segment.

The Asia Pacific regional market is expected to witness the fastest CAGR during the forecast period due to the increasing infrastructure developments.

Browse through Grand View Research's Electronic Security Industry Research Reports.

Contactless Biometrics Technology Market: The global contactless biometrics technology market size was estimated at USD 17.5 billion in 2024 and is expected to grow at a CAGR of 17.1% from 2025 to 2030.

IR Camera Market: The global IR camera market size was valued at USD 7.79 billion in 2023 and is projected to grow at a CAGR of 6.5% from 2024 to 2030.

Perimeter Security Market Segmentation

Grand View Research has segmented the global perimeter security market based on system, service, end use, and region:

Perimeter Security System Outlook (Revenue, USD Million; 2017 - 2030)

Access Control Systems

Alarms & Notification Systems

Intrusion Detection Systems

Video Surveillance Systems

Barrier Systems

Active Barriers

Passive Barriers

Others

Perimeter Security Service Outlook (Revenue, USD Million; 2017 - 2030)

System Integration & Consulting

Risk Assessment & Analysis

Managed Services

Maintenance & Support

Perimeter Security End-use Outlook (Revenue, USD Million; 2017 - 2030)

Commercial

Government

Industrial

Military & Defense

Transportation

Others

Perimeter Security Regional Outlook (Revenue, USD Million; 2017 - 2030)

North America

US

Canada

Europe

France

Germany

UK

Asia Pacific

China

India

Japan

Latin America

Brazil

Mexico

Middle East & Africa

Order a free sample PDF of the Perimeter Security Market Intelligence Study, published by Grand View Research.