#and how easy it was getting used to contact lenses

[creativecuteness]

I know and he's so freaking cute with them on tooo. Ugh he just looks cuter with glasses I too really wish he kept them on throughout the series. Or at least for the full movie and season 1

he literally had 2 pratice with glasses like. why didnt they let him keep his glassesss

[illou-sainte]

Dr. Zayne's treatment

pairings: husband!zayne x wife!reader

cw: lactation kink, based on this ask

Aren't you lucky to have a doctor as a husband? You get free 'special treatment' anytime.

As a first-time family, you're bound to face struggles. Adjusting to this new lifestyle together, now that you have a baby, hasn't been easy. One of the challenges you're currently facing is difficulty producing milk for your baby, despite trying various methods with Zayne's help.

Even using a pumping machine didn't work, which worries you and stresses you out even more since your newborn cries a lot when not fed with milk. Although you've tried baby milk formulas, there are still times when she refuses to drink them, always wanting it straight from her mommy.

Zayne is determined to find a solution for this problem.

Soft whimpers and moans could be heard coming from the shared bedroom. You hadn't expected that the "solution" Zayne was talking about would be like this. The strap of your nightgown slipped from your shoulders, revealing your plump tits.

You couldn't recall how long your husband had been latched onto your tits---his hot tongue swirling around your perked nipple as his hand massaged your other tit.

"H-honey- ngh-...I think..." You muttered, your face flushed as you tried to push him away from latching onto your breast too much, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'm...leaking- ah-!" His thumb pinched your perked nipple, then rubbed it as he felt a watery substance coming out. Milk. You were a squirming mess, even with much freedom to move around to stop him---you can't help but let him be.

Your plushed thighs were placed on the side of his waist as you sat on his lap, hands holding his shoulders for balance. You pursed your lips, trying to muffle your soft moans while he continued sucking your leaking tits like a hungry man.

Your hand ran through the back of his hair while he buried his face against your plump tits. You were finally leaking milk, but it seemed like he was enjoying the savor of the sweetness hitting his hot tongue. "T-too much--.." You could tell that Zayne was holding nothing back---he wasn't even denying it, the way you could literally feel him getting hard under you.

His bulge formed against his pajamas, hitting your clothed pussy---making you whimper and tried to move away from his budge but his strong arm was quick to wrap around your waist as he pushed you back tightly. You gulped as you noticed the lenses of his glasses got foggy and tilted down his nose as he remained eye contact with you while sucking your tits shamelessly.

You couldn't help but groan in response at the sight of your husband. The heat rose between the two of you, making you both getting sweaty.

Your body twitched---you were helpless, feeling aroused as your poor pussy started getting wet from just having your tits sucked on. You cupped his cheeks and pushed him away---he finally stopped and pulled away, a sound of 'pop' coming out as he latched off your poor tit. Saliva connected his lips to your perked nipple, which leaked milk.

You grunted as you saw his saliva mixing with your leaked milk over your plump breasts. Zayne formed a small pout as he furrowed his brows---he didn't like being interrupted. Not when he's sucking your tit like a starfish attached.

"Leave some for the baby, honey..." You scolded him, wiping the excess milk dripping from the side of his lips with your thumb. His arms wrapped around your waist as he continued to look at you with his face when he's not satisfied enough.

Strands of your hair fell down gracefully to your forehead as you prepared to scold him further but got backfired. "H-honey- ah-!" He pushed you down onto the bed, your back laid against it as your eyes widened in surprise. Zayne was quick to pin both your wrists above your head with his hand.

His head was positioned at your milk-leaking tits, you could feel his hot breath hitting your skin, making your breathing hitch. He let out a soft pant while his foggy glasses fell onto your tits, making your body twitch as it fell to the side.

His hand reached out to pull the chain of the lamp, the only source of light in your dark shared room.

"Zayne-"

"I'm not done yet, mommy."

Click.

Mommy treatment is yummy.

masterlist

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt 2 forever teen Danny adopts post-JJ Tim. Tim accepts he has a new dad.

[Pt 1: here][pt3: here]

Tim has known Danny a month, and he can say it has had a positive effect on his life. He's super understanding and accepting of all Tim's weird quirks. And when he ran away back to the Bats (which was a train wreck. B and Dick seemed relieved for 2 seconds, then tried to throw him in Arkham. Between him not selling out "Phantom" and still having JJ traits, they found him unacceptable.), Danny let him go, understanding, before accepting Tim back as easy as breathing when he came crawling back. He helps Tim break into Drake Manor directly after, revealing the invisibility and intangibility Tim thought he hallucinated to get clothes, toiletries, his phone (there's 20 missed calls, 5 are Dick, 2 are Bruce, 2 are Barbara, 1 is his parents, and the rest are his school.), his photographs, camera, and the card linked to the allowance his parents send every 2 weeks. Tim took the last thing because he doesn't want Danny to suffer for taking him in and help with expenses, Danny frowns before giving him a lecture about that not being Tim's responsibility when he finds out. Tim still buys groceries and gets them both new laptops when Danny isn't looking.

Danny modifies any electronics to be untraceable, showing Tim the whole process, so that Tim can contact his school with a fake doctor's note, a fake kidnapping story (some thugs heard what Joker tried to do with Robin and tried their own hand at it. Harley squawked about the JJ thing and how a new meta called Phantom killed Mista J, so it's all over the news. (A fake police report magically appears in the GCPD)), and how Tim won't be able to physically be at school for a while and if they could please send his schoolwork over. Tim holds off on contacting his parents, curious to see if they notice anything, and can't find it in himself to be disappointed that they don't (not even when they stopped by the manor a few days ago, they texted him exactly 1 time to scold him about the lack of food in Drake Manor).

When Tim's physical injuries are mostly healed, Danny moves them from the shitty 1 bedroom apartment to an equally shitty 2 bedroom apartment, still in Crime Alley. Tim feels slightly guilty about Danny refusing to let him sleep anywhere other than the bed, taking the floor or couch before he moves a second bed into the new apartment. Tim isn't sure what to do with the level of care Danny showers him with, but he loves it.

Danny, while disapproving and disliking Tim wanting to continue being a vigilante, doesn't actually stop him (something about being a hypocrite if he says no?). Tim designs a new costume since he can't be Robin, and Danny helps create it! Tim isn't sure how Danny got the nearly indestructible materials that need specialized cutting and sewing materials, but it's awesome!

The costume's base is black. Black cargo pants, an armored turtleneck, black domino mask. But he decides that since he unfortunately can't get rid of all his JJ traits (the laughing fits, the scars, his hair is growing green??, the (bipolar depressive/) manic episodes, etc.) and the Bats won't accept him anyways, so why not lean in. Over the black base, he adds a gothic tailcoat vest. It's very dark purple with bright Kelly green lapels and buttons. The lenses on his mask and his combat boots are the same shade of green. He feels like the green ties his new vigilante look to Danny's ghost form. He also finds the whole fit awesome and a giant fuck you to both Papa J and the Bats.

This does lead to his current dilemma. He needs a new name before he debuts his new vigilante identity.

"I refuse to be Joker Junior!" Tim huffs at Danny, who's calmly making dinner.

"Like I've said before, then don't be."

"But what should I call myself? I can't use a bird or bat name either. I've never had to think of a name for if I was an independent before!" Tim flops on the floor. The kitchen and frontroom is basically one room, so Danny can still see him being dramatic without Tim getting underfoot.

"Name yourself a ghostly name."

"Huh?" Tim sits up to look at the slightly blushing man trapped in a child's body.

"I mean, you're already connected to my ghost form, since everyone is going to connect you to your old vigilante identity, so why not pick something ghostly or supernatural." Danny turns to do something Tim can't see, but Tim knows he's just trying to hide how embarrassed he is about sharing the suggestion. "You don't have to. You could pick something more personal, like Shutterbug or Mania or something."

"Huh... That would work. It'd really rub in the Bats' faces that they basically killed 2 Robins." Tim mutters before twisting himself into a pretzel. "Any suggestions?"

"Depends. What do you want people to get from your name? And what annoyed do you want people who know both your IDs to be? Phantom was a literal pun off my lastname."

"How is Phantom a pun off of Kronokori?"

"Kronokori is Jazz's last name, mine's Kronoyios."

"Huh??"

"And those are our lastnames because Clockwork, or I guess Kronos, adopted us. Our original lastname was Fenton."

"You got adopted by a god?"

"Basically, yeah. Don't worry about it. It's probably one of the least weird things to happen during that time, but that's for a different time. What do you want from your name?"

"Uhhh..." Tim takes a moment to really think about it. "It should be something loud and chaotic, but not necessarily good or evil? I don't really care if it would make people eye roll or groan if I share my ID. Maybe something that is angry? I definitely feel angry."

"As you should." Danny affirms and thinks a second. "Wraith? It's a vengeful spirit seen shortly before or after death."

"Mmm... No."

"Sprite? It's a-"

"No way!" Tim pauses and thinks on his violent reaction. "... Sorry.. It just feels childish and like I'm a 2 dimensional game sprite. Not something that can grow with me or demand respect."

"It's fine, Tim." Danny flashes a reassuring smile. "How about Bashee? They scream to warn someone death is near."

"Aren't they all women?"

"Not necessarily. Kinda like selkies, there's more myth about the women, but there's men too." Danny starts plating the food he made. "Apparition? They're closer to an after imagine of the dead."

"But are they loud?"

"Not usually...hmmmm" Danny hands Tim his plate while scrunching his face in thought. "Let's see, Dullahan, Kelpie, Sphinx, Shade- Oh! Oh! I know! Poltergeist! They're loud, chaotic, usually malicious, they bite and scratch and slam things! It also doesn't sound childish, so you can keep it for as long as you need."

Tim munches on his dinner while thinking it over. "I think that would work. Hehe! A Poltergeist under the care of a Phantom."

Danny smiles, "Glad to help, kiddo."

Tim sets his mostly empty plate down and launches himself at Danny. Danny used to the behavior, quickly gets his own plate out of the way and catches him in a hug.

"Thank you, Danny." His tone indicates he's thanking him for more than just the name.

"No problem." Danny kisses the top of Tim's head. They stay like that for a moment before Tim pushes himself up.

"I think I should talk to your sister." He grabs his plate and sits near Danny on the couch. "I don't want someone to trigger me with a dumb comment or something."

"I'll tell her tonight." Danny says, "She's been wanting to meet you. Mostly because she wants to know her new nephew, but also because she likes to psychoanalize hero types. She finds us fascinating, but is still usually chill about it. Unlike when we were teens."

"What happened when you were teens?" Tim asks curiously.

"So Jazz has always wanted to be a therapist, and unfortunately, that means she knew a lot on the topic, but had none of the tact in implementing the knowledge." Danny looks absolutely fond. "She'd corner me to try and force me to talk about my feelings. "You can't keep it all bottled up, Danny." "You're hurting yourself and others by not talking." It was very annoying for an angsty teen to hear. She was right, but her methods needed work. And she's definitely put in the work since then."

"Any chance she's going to be anything like Harley?"

"Not a chance. She hates clowns and isn't one for jokes that aren't well thought out. You have to be really clever to even get a chuckle at a pun." Danny explains, taking their empty plates to wash them. "She isn't opposed to dark humor, but only if she knows the reason for it and knows it's not your only coping skill."

"So you got in trouble with her a lot, didn't you?" Tim teases, knowing Danny still uses dark humor as his main coping mechanism.

"All the time, but I started listening to her advice when I was.. 30? 32? Somewhere in my early 30s." Danny admits. "I got really tired of wanting to die all the time. And her advice has definitely helped minimize the want, unfortunately, mental illness doesn't truly go away."

Tim thinks about that. He knows you can't cure the types of mental illness he has, and Danny has been very open about his own issues, but he can't help his disappointment.

"Hey, on the plus side," Danny speaks up as if sensing Tim's thoughts, sometimes Tim is positive the man can. The man isn't facing him currently, so it's definitely not because Tim was making a face or something. "You're legally a person, so Jazz can get you meds. At least for your bipolar. I know you've been struggling with the whiplash between your extreme emotions."

"That's good..." Tim stares at the back of Danny's head. "You're not legally a person?"

"Nah. In the eyes of the government, I'm dead. It's why I've been hiding out in Gotham. The government has no place here, and as much as I hate the guy, Bats keeps the people hunting me down away." Danny pauses. "You know, I wonder if they think I faded? I haven't made an appearance in nearly 20 years. Then again, Harley snitched to everyone in existence, so I might have to start dodging ghost hunters again. At least the Anti-Ecto Control Acts got repealed, so I won't be taken to a secret government lab to be experimented on again. Shout out to Amity Parkers for clawing their way into office."

"The dad lore of your life is extensive." Tim jokes.

Danny chuckles. "Being a lab accident made ghost child vigilante with a portal to the infinite realms in his basement and ghost hunter parents and the government after you and the other ghosts visiting your town will do that. You'll have your own out of pocket stories to tell your kids one day, well, if you want kids. Otherwise, shocking friends is just as fun. Just imagine telling someone about the last 2 months. "Yeah, hi! My name's Tim! I was the 3rd Robin because a furry couldn't get his act together and then the Joker kidnapped me and I got adopted by the dead guy who showed up and killed him!""

Tim giggles. "I don't sound like that!"

"Maybe, maybe not, but it's still something you could say." Danny grins at him, drying his hands. "Do you need any help with your homework?"

"Yeah, there's a chemistry problem I don't understand-"

Tim loves living with Danny. It's everything a Tim pre-Batman would daydream about. Just a dad taking interest in his life and interests and taking care of him.

[clockwayswrites]

5 Times the JL Learned Batman was Married and the 1 Time They Met the Spouse.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four.

Clark stood up and positioned himself between the door and his injured teammate before it even opened, though not much before. His own delayed reaction made sense when it opened to show one of Batman’s teammates. While for the longest the League had thought Batman ‘worked alone’, they were now aware of there being a variety of heroes in Gotham, even if they were far from sure how many there might be or who those heroes were.

Nightingale was a notable exception what with his influence on the newest generation of heroes.

The young man flashed Clark a cheery smile and a little two finger wave. The motion almost distracting with the bright blue that marked the fingers.

“Hey Supes, I got notified that B was laid up.”

Clark paused. “You did?”

“Yep, I’m down as B’s emergency contact for Justice League matters. Feel free to confirm it if you want,” Nightingale said and leaned against the door frame with an easy shrug. “That’s exactly the sort of paranoia that B would approve of.”

It really was was, Clark thought. He grabbed the tablet that he had been using and pulled up Batman’s personnel file. It was a sparse file, of course, but clear as day Nightingale listed was next to ‘emergency contact’. Under his name as an alternative was ‘Condor’.

“Who’s Condor?”

“Me,” rumbled the man who stepped up behind Nightingale. He wasn’t as tall as the other hero, but he was broad. His lower face was covered in some sort of sleek gas mask, though Clark’s focus was pulled to the red lenses of the domino mask.

He certainly made for an intimidating figure.

Nightingale rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

Condor just shrugged. “I’m here to be the muscle.”

Clark’s brow furrowed. “For… what?”

“Oh, we’re taking B home!” Nightingale, well, chirped and pushed himself off the doorway.

Clark stepped in the way. “Batman needs to stay under medical supervision.”

“We know. We’re taking him to the Batcave. There’s a full medical set up there and we already have Batman’s personal doctor on hand to look him over,” Nightingale said as he smoothly edged his way around Clark. “Not that we don’t think you all have done your best! Just that way we’ll have his status for our files and he can recover at home.”

“Besides, you don’t want you-know-who to get wind that B is laid up like this and come storming the castle,” Condor said and came to take the other end of the medical bed.

Nightingale gave an over-the-top shudder. “Yeah, best to avoid that, he’s not having a good week already.”

“I, no, I don’t know who,” Clark said with a frown, though he did finally step out of their way. He couldn’t really tell them no, they did have control over Batman’s care. Still, he carefully watched them undo the clasps that would let them take off the top of the bed like a stretcher.

Condor lifted his end of the bed. “B’s husband, of course. Guy’s a little protective.”

“A little?” Nightingale asked as he pivoted with his end of the bed so they could start walking. “Calling him ‘a little’ protective is like calling what happened on Monday a ‘little’ multidimensional incident.”

Condor shrugged, the bed shifting a little with the motion, though it barely rocked Batman. “Okay, so maybe he’d rewrite the world for B if it came to it. That’s exactly why we’re getting B back to the Cave where he can be safe and settled before his paramour gets back from dealing with that ‘little’ multidimensional incident.”

“Right,” agreed Nightingale. “Thanks for looking after him, Supes!”

“You’re welcome?” Clark replied as the two heroes left the room, Batman carried between them.

[tumble-tv]

There’s word (very strong and big word) that Donald Trump is going to start mass deportations on Tuesday, January 21, 2025.

He wants any immigrants, no matter how long they have been a citizen of the USA, to be deported either out of the country as a whole or into what are basically concentration camps. They’re starting in Chicago, Illinois. The US Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has started raiding homes and families in California. Here’s some information.

When it comes to spotting an ICE agent, look for these:

Weirdly neat/well kept hair (shaved heads, side parts, military burs for men; low buns, high ponytails, close cropped bobs for women)

Oversized jacket (long and bulky outerwear makes it easier to hide tools/equipment without being suspicious)

Both hands in pockets

Many undercover agents/cops buy cheap plain clothes off the racks so they aren’t seen in their own clothes. This can make their outfit seem awkward

Sweatshirts with the hood up

Sports apparel (warm up jacket, sweats, etc) with non-sports clothes (jeans, cargo shorts)

Cargo pants/shorts (usually full of items like their badge, flashlight, taser, pepper spray, backup handcuffs, zip ties)

Military or hiking style boots, sometimes chunky sneakers (extra points if none of it matches anything in their outfit)

Outline of a gun in their pants/shirt (easy to see when bending, leaning, or raising arms) (NO NOT SAY ANYTHING)

Overly friendly

Overly inquisitive

“How old are you” and “what do you know about this happening” are both red flags, along with generally odd and personal questions

Don’t fit in

Mismatched pairs in public spaces (usually cops do these things in pairs. They don’t talk to each other or acknowledge each other much, if at all)

DO NOT SAY ANYTHING UNTIL YOU ARE 100% SURE

YOUR BEST BET IS NOT TO SAY ANYTHING UNTIL THE SUSPECT STARTS ACTING OFF AND GETTING PUSHY

COPS ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU THAT THEY ARE UNDERCOVER

COPS CAN AND WILL LIE TO YOU

SCREAM “LA MIGRA” AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS

For protesting:

N95 masks

Respirator/gas mask if you have access to one

Water water water water water (I hate to say it, but disposable one use bottles are best here. If it comes to it, you need to be able to drop and run.)

Snacks

Eyedrops (teargas is a bitch)

Goggles (I bring my old snowboarding goggles)

If you are wearing a t-shirt or have exposed skin, put on fake tattoos. If you are brought into something and they say you were there, showing a picture of you with the tattoos, show them where that tattoo would be and how there’s nothing there. How would you get rid of a giant flower on your forearm in 2 days anyways?

Hide your hair. I tuck my hair into my beanie since it’s short. If you have longer hair, try to do the same or tuck it into your shirt.

Power bank

Chargers

Helmet. Any is fine, my personal choice is a skating helmet since they’re rounder and can take more damage

Hand sanitizer

Gloves (either to keep your hands warm or simple nitrile exam gloves, both work)

Bandanas. Somebody might need one for their face or hair, maybe you need to get dirt off somebody’s face, maybe somebody got injured. They’re great for anything and everything

Cash (try to stick to cash, your card can be tracked)

Medications if you take them. If you get arrested or happen to somehow be away for longer than expected after the protest, it’s always good to have emergency meds

FIRST AID ALL THE FIRST AID (Tourniquet, Quikclot, chest seal, trauma shears, gauze, bandages, duct tape, and all the usual stuff you’d have in there)

Good shoes

Spare socks. Trust me.

As much covering clothing as you can handle. Plain jeans, plain hoodie, plain t-shirt, keep yourself as anonymous as possible

Photocopy of your ID

Sunscreen

Make sure your clothes have pockets

Do not wear contact lenses. If tear gas is used, that will make everything so much worse. Wear your glasses or go blind.

If you use mobility aids, cover defining features. Logos, brand names, colors, stickers, all of it. Take some old plain t-shirt and tie it around your wheelchair’s backrest. Wrap your wheelchair frame in cling wrap, then duct tape, or plain black self adhering medical tape. Cover stickers on your cane or crutches the same way. Electric chair? You have a little more work, but you can do it. Same idea. Walker? Same thing. Cover. It. All.

If you are bringing a bag, make sure that bag is as plain as possible. No pins. No patches. No keychains.

Scarf if you have one

Write a reliable phone number (of someone who is not at the protest with you) on your body. On the off chance you get arrested, that is your emergency contact.

Pocket knife.

Pepper spray/mace

Anything you can throw. Soup for my family.

IF YOU CAN, LEAVE YOUR PHONE AT HOME

IF YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT WITH YOU FOR WHATEVER REASON, TURN OFF LOCATION SERVICES ON ALL APPS AND TURN OFF BIOMETRICS (FACE ID AND FINGERPRINT) SO YOU CAN ONLY UNLOCK YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR PASSWORD

MAKE SURE SOMEBODY KNOWS GENERALLY WHERE YOU ARE

I do not want to scare anybody, but this is what life is right now. That man does not care how long you have been a citizen of this country. If you are not white, cisgender, heterosexual, Christian, and male, you are seen as less than by men in power. You are not less than. You are a threat to them, and they are scared. Keep it that way.

Here's the link to my post on what to bring in terms of first aid.

If you cannot attend protests, that’s fine. Do what’s best for you. Simply reposting information helps.

[aster-the-floof-dragon]

Tips and Advice for Protestors (with bonus for those who can't make it)

In light of reports of a planned mass protest across all 50 US states, I decided to help in whatever way I can. As much as I wish to participate, my circumstances prevent me from doing so. Thus, I’ve settled on gathering crucial information to know if you plan on participating in the upcoming protest.

To preface; if you are in a situation that prevents your from going out, know that it does not mean that you do not care or that you’re somehow “lesser.” It is okay if you can’t go for whatever reason, you don’t need to justify yourself. I’ll leave some tips and alternatives towards the end if you still want to help.

Now if you’re planning on participating, here’s some critical information to keep in mind:

1. Never go to a protest alone

While you could, it is not advisable to be by yourself. Bring a friend and stick together at all times. If things get hectic (and hopefully it should never get to that point), you can help each other.

2. Protect your identity

Cover your face with a mask and sunglasses, hide any identifiable marks on your body (tattoos, scars, moles, etc). NEVER take photos of yourself at the protest. As tempting as it is to roll up in a cool fit, it could make it easy to apprehend you (even if you’ve done nothing wrong). Instead, wear plain clothing with no unique symbols. Avoid wearing jewelry, leave them at home.

3. Plan Ahead

Make sure to bring plastic water bottles, necessary medicines, and physical cash. While is best practice to avoid bringing any electronic communication devices (phones, smart watches, etc.), but if for whatever reason you need them. Either turn them completely off or use airplane mode. Get a paper or offline digital map of the local area, find where the rally is taking place, and identify the routes to get out quick.

Identify your trusted emergency contact(s). Tell them where you are going, how you are getting there, where the emergency meetup spot is, and when will you be coming back.

If you need contact lenses, avoid wearing them. Opt for glasses instead. Tear gas and contact lenses do NOT mix. No glass containers, they make you a prime target for police. Do not wear anything that can obstruct your hearing (headphones, earbuds, ear plugs) HOWEVER, protective ear equipment can help should authorities use a sound canon. Do not bring illegal or other controlled substances (alcohol, marijuana, etc.) whether legal or not, if police detain you it will make things worse for you.

Other helpful items include liquid anti-acid for tear gas, shatter-proof goggles, extra face masks, towelettes, thick latex gloves (preferably from paint stores), and battery packs. If you’re able to, do try to carry extra water bottles. In a pinch they help with tear gas. Wetting down masks with water helps with tear gas while you get away from the area.

Wear comfortable shoes. Avoid flip flops and sandals.

Have the information of a lawyer written on your arm.

4. Getting there

Don’t park nearby. Give yourself some space to keep your vehicle secure. Or if you are able, use public transit instead. Ideally, travel with your friend(s).

5. While Protesting

Ensure that you are always aware of your surroundings. If you see or feel that something is off, listen to your gut. Don’t be afraid to speak with your friend(s) and fellow protestors if you feel that something or someone is suspicious, this includes if you find someone tagging people with stickers or other markings as they move through the crowds (alert those that are marked, do NOT confront the person doing it). Stay with your friend(s) the entire time. Always keep your escape routes in mind.

Do not engage with counter-protestors. They may attempt to rile up the protest into a riot. Do not let them. Just ignore them and move on.

Avoid taking photos unless documenting potential law enforcement abuse. Be cautious when recording, do not interfere with police. If it feels like things are starting to get heated, listen to your gut and get away as quickly as possible.

It is likely that police may engage in kettling, where they will surround a group and restrict their movement. While this is supposed to be used for groups that they feel will cause violence, it can be abused. Keep moving randomly, stay close to bystanders, and avoid responding aggressively. If you are caught in this, ask the police if you are being detained. If arrested or detained, invoke your Fifth Amendment rights by remaining silent, only speaking to demand a lawyer.

6. Avoid Engaging in Provocative Behaviors

What this means is to not fall for tactics meant to get protestors riled up. It is not unheard of for police (or third parties) to set things up to coax people into engaging in behavior they otherwise wouldn’t. Do not take anything from anyone you do not know, especially if that something could be a makeshift weapon (ie, bricks, bats, equipment, etc). If its possible, you may try to deescalate by remaining calm and clearly indicating that you will not engage in violent behavior. If you are not comfortable, you may simply leave without saying another word.

Do NOT try to fight the police, it can ruin your life. While the police can get away with doing such things, you do not have that luxury. In terms of a ruined life, I do not just mean a record, I mean getting injured and it permanently affecting you the rest of your life. At worst, you could get killed. Do NOT attempt to fight or even provoke the police.

If things get heated and you are still in the protest. I’m talking police are marching forward, tear gas is being deployed, do NOT be a straggler. Even if you did nothing to provoke, the police can and will beat you. It is an intimidation tactic, they may know full well that you’ve done nothing but you are their closest target and they will use you as an example. Flee IMMEDIATELY. Do not throw things, do not yell at the police, just run to your emergency meetup spot.

------

Hopefully you’re able to show up and leave without incident. Remember, the idea of a protest is to gather as many people as possible to show our government all the people that care about a certain issue so that they do something about it. But if for whatever reason you are detained by police, do not forget that you have rights granted to you by the US Constitution.

For starters, peaceful protesting is protected by the First Amendment. This is why it is imperative that protestors remain peaceful and commit to not engaging in provocative or violent behaviors.

If police order the protest to disperse, you must comply and leave the area. Note, that police can only invoke this if there is clear evidence of danger of a riot or interference with traffic. In addition, police must allow for the protestors to calmly leave the area. This includes explicitly stating the amount of time, consequences for not complying, and what clear exit routes to take.

If you are detained by police, remain calm. Keep hands visible and comply with orders. I know this can be difficult for some and easier for others, but it is the best advice I can offer. Do not be afraid to state that you were exercising your First Amendment rights. Ask if you are free to leave, if they say yes then you may calmly walk away. If not, you may ask why but do not talk any further. If they are arresting you they must say why they are doing so. The last thing you can safely say is that you will remain silent and ask for a lawyer, these are your Fifth Amendment rights. Do not sign or consent to anything, including searches though police may perform a pat down if they suspect you have a weapon. Calls to a lawyer are confidential (this is where having lawyer information on you is handy). Police cannot access your devices without a warrant and they may not tamper with the data (aka, deleting files).

If you believe your rights are being violated, swiftly write down what happened, where, when, officer badge numbers, police car numbers, etc. Photograph any injuries you got.

Note: There may be few peaceful protestors out there that intend to get arrested should things escalate. Understand that this is incredibly serious and could jeopardize your future prospects in terms of job hunting and education. Do not attempt to get arrested to bring publicity if you cannot handle the consequences. Leave it for those who understand what it fully means to do something like this unless you are willing to accept the consequences. Things may be dire, but you deserve to live a full life and there are so many other ways you can help without jeopardizing your future. So, what are other ways to help? If you can’t make it to a protest, its okay. I mean hey, I can’t go either! So right off the bat here’s something you can do. Which is what I’ve been doing this whole time, getting information out there! Do not be afraid to share information from reliable sources to help keep your peers informed. And if you have a knack for writing, aggregate what you find to make a single post (and do please cite your sources). Help make it accessible for fellow community members if you want to! A bit meta but please do not use generative AI. It often gets information way wrong and the last thing we want is misinformation to spread. So please, do your own research and writing.

Call your representatives! Their phone numbers are listed publicly specifically for us to call at any time to make our voices heard. While it is best to reach US Congress members at their DC office, if that doesn’t work do try to call your local office instead. And if that doesn’t work either, do write them an email or send a post card! Depending on their hours and rules, you can even show up in person. Just make sure you’re aware of the rules to appear in person and your rights as a constituent. This can be a great alternative if you’re unable to go to a protest in-person but you want to show your representatives that you care and want to make your voice heard. I used 5 Calls to find my reps and a sample script to use to help keep the call focused and concise on the issue that I wanted to talk about.

Another neat way to help is by donating to mutual aid and legal funds made to help protestors that do get arrested. Just ensure that they are legitimate by vetting them thoroughly before sending over any money/payment information. Of course, this depends on your financial situation, but it also helps if you share so it can reach people who can donate. Organizations like the ACLU are excellent too.

Organize and meet with like-minded people! In a time where this administration is trying to divide us, it is crucial that we unite and work together to fight back. It does not stop after the protest is done, this work continues in the background where the average person may not notice. There are many roles that need filling, and it starts with talking to others and seeing where you can help.

I also want to say thank you to my friends and acquaintances who helped me write this by sharing their own knowledge, experiences, and some of the sources linked below!

And feel free to add to this! If you know of a good, reliable source or legitimate mutual aid fund, feel free to share! Its important that we help each other out and not give into despair. Why give the haters what they want?

Sources and Extra Reading:

[tomasweetheart]

TWENTY TWENTY VISION — m. atsumu x gn!reader

sypnosis: atsumu needs glasses, but why on earth would he make his & your life easier by wearing them?

warnings: i'm gonna beat the shit out of atsumu oh my GOD he irks me so bad, post-timeskip atsumu, eensy bit of angst if you squint super super hard, osamu mention, i can't write the miya accent™ for the life of me but i tried so sorry, petnames such as baby used, he calls the reader pretty

notes: inspired by the fact that i just recently got my new glass and haven't had a pair since i was 14 so seeing the world focused fucks with me a lil bit, ALSO, atsumu with glasses has been flooding my brain, osamu is farsighted cause i said so

"I'm not wearin' 'em."

"Atsumu, please, you need to wear them, you have astigmatism in both of your eyes! And you're nearsighted!"

Atsumu lets out a soft huff as he crosses his arms, as if he isn't the reason you've been having this argument essentially since you brought up him even getting his eyes checked.

It all started when Osamu had gotten new glasses, that's what Atsumu thinks anyways, that this is all stupid Samu's fault.

Osamu came over one afternoon for a harmless visit, with new glasses on. You had asked Osamu about them, and commented that you never knew he needed glasses to which he responded:

"Oh yeah, me and Tsumu both do, he just hasn't worn his since junior high."

You swear you've never seen Atsumu react so quickly, his head snapping to Osamu and immediately telling him to shut up through gritted teeth. The subject gets dropped instantly, but now you're giving Atsumu side-glances throughout the night until Osamu leaves.

After you two are settled into bed and Atsumu is almost asleep, until your voice rings out in the dark.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.

"...What are ya on about?" Atsumu asks, turning to face you with a soft expression.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask again, "Because you don't wear glasses like you're supposed to, so the world's all unfocused for you all the time, is that why?"

Atsumu's silence and stunned expression is all the answer you need.

"That's what I thought," you mumble before turning away from him, "your eye appointment is Saturday at four."

And that puts Atsumu where he is now, sitting at the island connected to the kitchen in your small apartment, staring down the thick black lenses as if he was trying to explode them with his mind.

"I said, I ain't wearin' 'em," he huffs again vehemently, looking at you with an unwilling expression, "and that's final. I don't need no stupid glasses, I can see just fine."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, palms resting against the island as you stand on the opposite side of it, "If you don't need your glasses, read the paper on our fridge. Without squinting."

Atsumu's face goes a little pale, his eyes widening slightly. He looks over your shoulder at the paper held onto the fridge with a stupid magnet in the shape of a volleyball.

"It, uh..." he trails off, trying to not squint as much as possible, "...it...it doesn't matter what it says! I'm still not wearin' those glasses! I don't need 'em!"

"Atsumu that paper is no more than four feet away from you, and you can't even tell me what the bolded title says," you responded in an almost pleading tone, "baby, you need your glasses, so I am begging you, please put them on."

Atsumu's face softens slightly at your pleading voice, before it turns unwilling again as he looks down at his arms and mumbles something you can't quite make out.

"What was that?" you ask.

"...They make me look dumb," he repeats a little louder, looking back up at you, "they make me look like an idiot, and since my eyes aren't used to being focused, I feel like a baby deer learnin' how to walk."

"Tsumu," you reply gently, your own expression softening, "if you didn't like the way glasses look, why didn't you ask for contacts?"

"Because they scare me," he rebuttals, "which I know is stupid because they're an easy solution to my problem, but they rip and get stuck and...I don't know, that just scares me."

You stare at him blankly before taking a deep breath, "Atsumu," you start, "I'm not...trying to make you look stupid, okay? I just know that you need them, and you know that too. It might be awkward at first, but won't it be worth it to see the world a little more clearer? So you won't have to squint to read traffic signs or drive through menus? And, glasses aren't a permanent solution, we can work our way up to contacts, but you need to wear these for now."

Atsumu looks down at the glasses again, letting out another unsure sigh as he picks the thick rims up, and places them on his face.

It's weird at first, everything is clearer. The titanium fridge, that stupid volleyball magnet and the paper it holds, and more importantly...

You.

The way your entire face shifts into focus leaves Atsumu speechless. He knows how pretty you are, he doesn't need glasses to see it, but god do they make it better.

You give Atsumu a weird look, "What?" you ask puzzled, "Can you see better?"

"Yeah," he responds with a small smile, "I can see real good, pretty."

[cenorii]

Headcanons about Oldsker

I drew him quite a lot, so I managed to form an opinion about him. Yes, officially Oldsker exists only in our heads, but that doesn't stop us from coming up with something about him. Who is he? Read here.

— Of course, my main hedcanon is his appearance:

— I think Oldsker is the perfect version of Wesker, the final stage of his personal evolution. It's not only the result of his personal growth, but also the result of Capcom's labors to make a complete and final version of the character that will include all the notes and previous games, creating a coherent image out of all the vast information there is about him.

— Having limited himself all his life, Wesker was able to go all out after the volcano. Now that he wasn't bound by the confines of Spencer's upbringing, nor held back by the fulfillment of his dreams, he felt free. Now he was like a child who had been told by his parents to "do whatever you want." Wesker, who had never used foul language before, might start doing it. Wesker, who previously didn't drink and despised bad habits, might try them. Long hair and a different clothing style? He's just getting started. He's free and will probe that feeling in absolutely everything. Acting like a silly joker on the street? Easy. Create the image of the urban lunatic around him as a disguise? Oh yes, he likes that. He's free and his name no longer constrains him, because he'll change it too.

— I think Wesker got tired of having the same hairstyle for 50 years, styling his hair every morning, and so on. And he's already 61. Feeling completely free, like a teenager craving self-expression, he will grow his hair out and not care about styling at all. The only thing he will do with his hair is wash it. He doesn't even need a blow dryer anymore, just a towel, because now he loves himself any way he can. And he no longer needs to be "perfect" to like himself.

— He hasn't gotten rid of the habit of wearing sunglasses, but he really needs it to fit in with society. His eyes still tend to glow with emotion, and basically have an unconventional look. It's unlikely that colored contact lenses can override something so unusual.

— He doesn't forget about Chris. For Chris, Wesker's "death" means a lot, thanks to this event Chris realized that his fight was worth the lives saved. But for Wesker, this event is also very important. He has revised absolutely his entire life, changing the way he approaches it.

— Chris is his obsession. Wesker admires him, hates him, loves him, despises him, loves him, and so it is every day… every day is his struggle with feelings he is not familiar with, but tries to understand. Wesker has become free of any restraints, but the walls that were erected around his feelings still stand. And that's why he's such a noob in feelings, he doesn't know what he's feeling or how to describe it. That's why his relationship with Chris is so confused… He created Chris clones for some new purpose, but the purpose is just an excuse for his real attitude towards Chris.

— He continues to pursue his hobby and creates various weapons and names them after himself, paying homage to his "past life". Thanks to "Albert Wesker" he realized what he wanted out of life, and because of him he became the man he is today.

— I like the name Michael Baxter from this theory. I think that even though it's a weird nickname, it would be a great fit for Oldsker instead of his past name that was given to him by Umbrella and Spencer. He'd obviously want to stop being associated with "Wesker" because it's a dirty and disgusting project. But would he want to stop being Albert? Perhaps the name is too catchy and would expose his whole new image. So he would want to change his name completely, renouncing his past self.

— Oldsker hasn't changed, he's just become liberated and free. Perhaps there are scars on his body that have not been healed by regeneration, due to his powers becoming weaker.

— He probably knows Karl Heisenberg. It's unlikely to be any kind of close acquaintance, but they could very well turn out to be conversation partners by correspondence. Karl could be telling Oldsker about Miranda's plans, and Oldsker could be chattering unrestrainedly about Chris and his plans for him.

— Perhaps freedom would turn his head a little and he'd look for himself in completely unexpected directions. How about…writing a novel? Can this Wesker write NSFW about him and Chris? 😳

[uki01]

so I need more shadow in my life apparently. (just finished watching sonic 3 and now I'm fixated on it)

i was wondering what would be shadows reaction to reader needing glasses? preferably nearsighted?

”Clear when you’re Near.”

Movie! Shadow The Hedgehog x Nearsighted! Reader

Author’s Note: This is such a cute request! I decided to do Movie! Shadow since you recently just watched it so, what better way than to do Movie Shadow, hope you’ll like my portrayal of him! Also sorry if I’m not accurate with the glasses stuff!

Warnings: Nothing! Just pure fluff!

“Shadow! Honey! Have you seen my glasses?”

You called out, since you can’t really see, or more accurately, can’t see far away and your glasses could be anywhere. To put it simply, you were near sighted, so you can see objects up close but can’t see them far away, causes distant objects to become blurry for your vision.

Then you felt a pair of hands put glasses on your face from behind, as your glasses was on, you turned to see Shadow, you smiled at him

“Thank you Shadow.”

“No worries starshine”

You give him a kiss on the forehead which catches him off guard, you giggle at this and get up for a bit to grab a book you need to finish.

Soon as your reading started, Shadow sat beside you and asked.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You stopped your reading and turned to look at him.

“Oh! Sure! What’s up Shadow?”

“Why do you need your glasses? Or… what does it do to help with your eyesight?”

“Oh! Easy! I’m near sighted.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means I can’t see objects or people from far away very well, I can see anything up close real good but if it’s far? Nope can’t see. That’s why I wear these glasses, they give me contact lenses so I can see clearly.”

Shadow took some thought into this, remembering what near sighted means now.

“I see.. I am sorry that you have to live through this..”

“No need to apologise, you know, the best thing about wearing these glasses?”

“What’s that?”

“I can see you, no matter how far you go..”

Shadow’s face turned surprised but shook it off and his muzzle begins turning red, he moves closer to you, basically nuzzling up against you. You of course, reciprocated, you softly kiss his forehead and stayed all warm, nice and cuddled until you both fell asleep.

Author’s Note: This was so cute to make! Hope my portrayal of Movie Shadow was good! Sorry if there’s a few mistakes with the near sighed glasses! Please let me know if I am missing anything or using incorrect information!

[sillyandquiteawkward]

Do you have any tips/advice for someone doing comics? Like, shorter ones, not necessarily longer form stuff? How to plan a lil scene, set up panels, etc? Anyway, I like your comics a lot, your art is really cool and I hope you have a nice day <3

i feel like i do what you arent supposed to do, but i write a lot of my short comics from the seat of my pants. i have a general idea of what i what to accomplish, sometimes i have some dialogue and stage direction written in my notes app, and i just. draw a rectangle and start going. that tends to be why a lot of my mspaint comics tend to be talking head type deals, haha. ill try to give some proper advice, but im also just a hobbist whos taken a some classes about communication through design and comics years ago.

most comics do well if you establish a scene with a larger set piece, then you can narrow down to characters or actions. show us where we are in space, and the audience can take that knowledge and move along the other panels with a stronger suspension of disbelief. (bc comics are all about giving toys to your reader and hoping they play with you) heres the first page of my anya n swansea comic illustrating this. big location panel, then narrowing down to character moments.

you notice as i focus more on dialogue, that my scenery gets left out. this is bc theres only so much space in a panel, so i need to choose what gets shown. of course this depends on what medium you work with, but the gist is the same amongst all types. dont give your reader TOO much to play with or they might get confused, or will start skimming. not what we want!

for shorter comics, id suggest something eye catching right at the beginning to catch readers attention. if you have multiple "pages" or breaks in the comic, make sure the last panel before the next page is enticing. be it a punchline or cliff hanger, something to keep the reader interested. jingle those keys. in general most short comics need to end on a punchline or satisfaction or deep thought. something for the reader to chew on after their done reading, or to inspire rereading. makes for a satisfying read!

but it also depends on how you want to structure a comic page. this comic of anya and curly i did is very different than the previous one i showed, and i think its one of my fav recent comics. it starts with a weird piece of dialogue that makes you ask "what does that mean" which gets answered by the next panels. theres visual and spoken repetition, theres very little said, and its short and sweet. very easy to read and reread, so its easy to take in, and its easy for the reader to sit with it longer and ponder it more. and be able to draw their own conclusions. play touys with meeee

i think when it comes to planning scenes, it depends on what you want the reader to get out of it. when i was planning this comic page, i really wanted to mention that curlys tear ducts probably dont work, and anyas been wearing the same contact lenses for months! i wanted to showcase their similarities and how they mirror each other narratively and i had the idea to use the onomatopoeia of drip to stand in for the drip of saline. but i didnt have any solid ideas past that. but i do like showcasing mundane sort of events, so i thought maybe just a simple exchange of using saline to wet curlys eye, and then her eyes. initially the idea to literally copy and paste the action of applying the saline was out of ease so i didnt have to draw it again, but i found that it worked for the narrative, so i leaned into that. i flipped anya around to better convey them as on either side of the mirror, and had anya repeat her dialogue.

something else to debate about in layout, is making sure the comic isnt too unbalanced (unless thats a theme/motif youre wanting to work with) in this comic page, anya always remains on the left side, except the first panel where she is on the right. i Could have swapped her and her dialogue in the first panel, so she stays on the left and better mirrors curly in panel 3, but if i did that, the comic would be very left heavy. anyas hair and her clothes are a heavy, dark color, it takes up a lot of visual attention. i thought the comic would look more pleasant for anya to be on the right in the first panel to balance it out, as i didnt find much narrative use for her to be on the left side always. the reader would still read the comic left to right and follow the typical reading pattern regardless. to make up for this, in panel 3, curly mirrors the angle she's at in panel 1, its not an exact mirror, but its enough that i was satisfied with it.

in other comics, it might be easier to play with how the eye would move across the page. regardless, its something important to keep in mind. you have to assume how the reader will read your comic, and if youre going to be breaking the rules, you need to put in lots of safeguards to make sure the reader can understand what youre doing. too much dialogue in confusing places? work with the speech bubbles to create hierarchy and flow so the reader knows how to read everything in order. number one rule of design we were taught was people are stupid, so you have to play at their level, or baby proof your level DX designers and artists know all the rules, but readers dont have a grasp on the rules themselves, just the vibes of the rules.

the most important thing with comics is legibility. if the reader cant understand or follow the comic, it might as well be like them not reading it at all. and the worst thing that could happen is they think what youre doing is pointless. so you have to juggle what you want to accomplish, what the reader can understand, what the medium limits you to, and what rules you think you can get away with breaking.

hope this is some sort of satisfying answer! i feel like im always hit or miss with advice XD;;

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

One Step, Not Much but It Said Enough

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Farm/Prison

Warnings: None

Summary: Someone had to make a move. In the end, it was neither of you.

A/N: First November request. It can be found here.

*gif is not mine

You pushed your glasses up on your nose for the umpteenth time in less than half an hour, cursing yourself for never checking with your optometrist about contact lenses before the world went to shit. Not like you would have known to buy a lifetime supply because the dead were going to rise up and eat the living. Oh well. 

You didn’t dislike your spectacles. You actually enjoyed having them. You used to pick out the snazziest frames you could find that meshed well with your personality. Still, having glasses in the apocalypse wasn’t easy, by a long shot. 

Especially now, when you were trying to set up the perimeter line and it was a million degrees outside, the sweat accumulating on your skin making your frames slide down. It was actually rather infuriating. 

You were tying off a line when a shadow loomed over the string in your hands. “Here.” Before you could look up, a sunhat was placed on your head. You reached up to adjust it before leaning back to meet Daryl’s eyes. “S’one’a Carol’s.” He motioned toward the hat as he crouched on the other side of your line. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled, hoping he’d credit the sun for the rosy coloring of your cheeks. You suddenly felt unsure of your work and hesitated to continue while he watched. 

“G’on.” He encouraged, chewing on a blade of grass while those blue eyes flitted between you and the string of cans. You took a deep breath and carried on, soon becoming lost in your work as you moved from sector to sector. The hat did help, but eventually, you found the frames teetering on the end of your nose once again. 

“Damn glasses!” You didn’t even bother to adjust them, simply sitting back on your heels with a pout. Daryl had followed you, having already done his hunting for the day. You weren’t really sure why he was hanging around. His presence never bothered you but did make you increasingly nervous. The man was attractive and, though he’d fight hard to never admit it, he had a huge heart. 

“What ‘bout ‘em?” He looked up from cleaning his bolts, tilting his head when he noticed your adorable pout. He laughed in the form of an exhale through his nose and leaned forward, using his middle finger to push your glasses back to their rightful place. “They suit ya.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, blinking at him with wide eyes. It wasn’t until his brows drew inward and he began to smirk that you realized you had been staring at him for far longer than necessary. There was a noise akin to a squeak when you quickly went back to work and tied off the last of the perimeter. “Done!”

“‘Bout time.” The archer drawled, already standing next to you. “Ya hungry?” He was holding out a hand to help you to your feet but you just couldn’t seem to make your body function. “S’a hand. How it works is ya put yours in mine an’ I pull ya up.” You suddenly deadpanned at his his version of a grin. “C’mon, now. Carl gets there first an’ there’ll be none left for us.”

You took his hand and let him pull you to your feet. “Thanks.” He hummed in reply, falling in step beside you. You walked quietly back to the fire and your friends, about to branch away from him when you felt his hand on your arm. 

“Hey, um—” You looked up just in time to see him look back from gazing at something behind you but he kept speaking before you could turn to investigate. “Y’wanna go with me tomorrow? Huntin’, I mean.”

You knew how your face lit up, there was absolutely zero hiding it. You had always wanted to go with him. Honestly, you wanted to go anywhere with him. You felt like a middle schooler with a crush. Embarrassing. Regardless, the fact the he had invited you after spending all afternoon watching you string up cans between trees made your heart beat just a little faster. 

“Hell yeah, I’d love to! I mean, as long as I won’t be in your way.”

“Ya won’t be. M’gonna teach ya.”

Your jaw gaped. “Really? You mean it?”

Poor Daryl just looked confused. “Wouldn’a said it if I didn’t.” 

You just managed to stop yourself from diving in for a hug. “I’m looking forward to it.” You smiled, tilting your head when you noticed the slight flush on his cheeks. He scratched at the back of his neck and nodded. 

“Good. We’ll be leavin’ ‘fore first light so get some sleep.”

You nodded and watched him walk away, apparently forgetting that he didn’t eat. You chuckled to yourself, pushing your glasses up yet again but not at all bothered by it this time. When you turned, you barely caught the knowing smile that Carol wore before it faded and she went back to eating. You removed the hat Daryl had brought you, looking at it with narrowed eyes, then to where Daryl had disappeared, then to Carol, then back to the hat. Suddenly, it all made perfect sense. 

Well played, Carol. Well played. 

[shivsdownstairsneighbour]

Chérie - End of the Line

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x Fem. Reader

Description: A puzzling email and a new shoot gets you closer to Stewy once more. Maybe it's time to see how far things can go only for a night.

Rating: Teen/Mature

Word Count: 4k. Part one of the fic, though each can also be stand alones.

AN: Dearest reader, this author has to complete her yearly research report so, of course, it was compulsory to succumb to fic brainrot before typing the report. The dress comes from the Schiaparelli 2020 couture runway. While it lacks a specific name, if you search for the runway lookbook, you'll spot it from the embroidery details (all magnificent and superb). I wanted the closest thing to a SATC naked dress moment while keeping the going to a gala vibes.

Your phone ringing and vibrating right beside you at your desk did wonders in waking you up after a long night editing and postproduction of campaign materials for NYC fashion week. The glam is for the runway, the sleepless night is for the creatives behind the whole operation.

"Good morning?" You responded, not entirely sure if it was morning or afternoon.

"Greetings Miss, we're calling from Mr. Hosseini's office to confirm your presence this afternoon for the media materials." The ever so polite voice of Mrs. Margaret’s, Stewy's assistant, was surely a new way of waking up.

"Uh, yes, I've already confirmed a week ago and sent the tech brief of what I need in the room." You answered, standing up to get the coffee machine running before jumping to the shower.

"Of course, and you'll find it all according to your specifications. We're only missing your measurements, for which you haven't responded to the request sent via email three days ago."

"I beg your pardon, my measurements?" You froze in front of the cabinets, afraid to drop the mug out of shock.

"Yes, madame. Please send them via email at your earliest convenience."

"What does that have to do with me popping in for some pics?” Your voice tone conveyed beyond disbelief and your hand held even stronger to the mug.

"It's a personal request, I have no additional information about the matter. Please do send them and hope you have a pleasant day."

You were left beyond baffled. You actually thought it was a joke to have someone ask for your measurements and, since it came from an email address you didn't recognize, you figured it must be a prank. Why on earth would your measurements matter for a two-hour shoot? The request for measurements was baffling, making you feel the urge to text him to figure who came up with such a ridiculous request. However, truth to be told, beyond a text here and there or the occasional coincidences at a public event, Stewy and you wouldn't talk much, if ever. There was very little beyond a quick flirt and a drink. Plus, this was work, and when your professional name was called for, you liked to keep things strictly business.

Before you could do anything to contact him about that matter, the brand representative from last night's runway called to ask for the contact sheets and the final 6 pic run to use for press statements. You mindlessly typed your measurements though made a mental note to demand some answers from Stewy. The three coffees you had downed by them were starting to make their magic on you and, by the time you were done with your things, you looked a little haggard from the late nights, but with a bit of effort, you looked pulled together and ready to tackle the shoot.

Since they promised to stick to your tech brief as requested, you travelled light with only your camera bag and two lenses for what you envisioned a relatively easy shoot. Considering the hotel already had great lighting in the room, it was only a matter of setting the camera adequately to get the best out of the space. In hindsight, that could also use your own pent-up questions to raise some reactions from him that would make for a good picture. Mrs. Margaret was waiting for you at the hotel entrance and guided you immediately to the room. She didn't mention anything beyond the schedule and handed you the comms pack that would come out of them. The idea was to make it a sort of approachable, yet exclusive profile meant to be part of a joint social media-press strategy derived from the increased interest in his profile, both personal and business.

"Well someone looks as if they didn't have their beauty sleep. Or any sleep at all." He says as soon as he spots you walking into the room. He was wearing a bathrobe and sitting on the recliner by the bed.

"It's the post fashion week eye bags. Tres chic." You glared at him, not impressed by the lack of a greeting. What happened to normal courtesy like a good afternoon?

"Your working station must be somewhere over there. Make yourself at home." He pointed towards the mahogany desk that had the equipment placed and the already mounted studio flash beside it.

"Sure, because home is definitely overlooking the park." You responded, clearly caught by the wonderful views the room offered.

"Snarky. That's new." He turned towards the walk-in wardrobe, and you let a long sight before getting to the setup. It wouldn’t be long but the lack of sleep might start creeping in if you let it.

You set up the camera and start plugging in everything to the set up before starting the shoot. You have a shooting remote active for moments where you with the camera would be too intrusive or if you wanted to have a more upfront conversation without the camera meddling between him and you. They've just started with skincare and the press girl is pulling some questions while you shoot, and the social media guy is getting some backstage content. Curiosity is getting the best of you but you don't know when to ask about the whole measurements thing, especially when surrounded by so many people, some being fellow colleagues from adjacent fields, like Sylvie, the stylist.

By the time they're done with skincare and hair, the press people take a break before he's fully dressed, and you're left with the hairdresser, the make-up artist and the stylist. You might be buzzed by the rush of getting someone not only camera ready, as red carpet ready was a must, to feel the wear and tear from the week. However, you're also sleep deprived and terribly irrational, so you just blurt it out when the hairdresser asks you to take a seat at her station while he comes out of the wardrobe having had the final fitting of his trousers hems.

"Why does your team need my measurements?" Not only did everyone turn to him, but you could feel it, more than ever, his eyes burning through you.

"Everyone, out. Take five, get a coffee, smoke, whatever you need." Everyone left the room, no questions asked, leaving you two standing in the middle of it. "You're impossible to surprise, aren't you?"

"No, I like surprises, but asking through your assistant something of the sort isn't pleasant."

"Well, here's the surprise." He took your hand and guided you to the rack, where four black dust bags were hanging, each with a color-coded ribbon.

"The red one's my choice, I've seen you around and think it'll suit you. The blue is PR, would be lovely to see you on that one for the sake of this operation. The green's the stylist choice, and the pink is a wild card from her too. We could've gotten you more choices if you would've been punctual with your measurements." He said, with such naturality, you felt as the last person in the room to be on the deal.

"I think you've skipped over at least 10 steps previous to this conversation."

"You're my date and I can't have you walking around the red carpet or the gala looking like that." He said while pointing out to your smart trousers and shirt outfit. It was meant to be functional, not glam worthy.

"You know it would've been way easier to just ask upfront?"

"But where's the surprise in it?" He responded, with an almost mocking smirk on his face you wished to at least challenge a little.

"Your date? To the couturier's gala?" Both disbelief and a raised brow conveying the ridiculousness of his move.

"I know you're not booked or on assignment tonight."

"Great choice of words. This is making me feel like an expensive stand-in." His naturality on the subject was making you go from anger to uneasiness. A heads-up would’ve been a way better option.

"Booked or not, choose one, let them pamper you and have a night off."

"I still have to deliver these for your team."

"They're not due tomorrow, are they?" That bit was true, having until next Sunday magazines and society sections to publish them. Feeling accomplished, he turned to face you without dropping the hand he held.

You didn't realize, or rather chose to willingly ignore, the fact that he knew you held the remote in your hand. You were probably still within the camera's field of view, and in a swift move he took it from you and snapped a pic from the moment. The studio flash snapped you out of the moment and, just as quickly as everyone had been dismissed, the crew returned to the room. Stewy could've easily saved at least half an hour from prep time if he would've been clear from the start with his intentions. Nevertheless, you trusted everyone knew how to pull off a look while in a time constraint. You also had to admit it felt good to be receiving the VIP level of pampering that you've documented dozens of times but never had the pleasure of enjoying.

While all dresses were beyond beautiful, it was the pink wildcard that worked best, having it be a must wear if ever given the chance. The stylist helped you get into it, and you looked dazzling. It was day and night from how you left home, and you were really feeling it while wearing it. You didn't notice Stewy had been already fully prepared and looking from the sitting area how you were getting styled and fitted. He looked so smug having a glass of whiskey, as if taking you out fully glammed up was his accomplishment. In truth, you were never certain if you would've responded positively to an actual invitation for an event of the sort. Maybe the smug victory said more about you than him. But you wouldn't be opposed to a second outing if the night fared well.

Once you were ready, you asked for a couple of portraits of him sitting on the sofa and looking relaxed. He was pulling off each shot with enough success to not have to be any more demanding than necessary for good material. Maybe he'd gotten better at it due to increased attention. Or, rather more credibly, he was giving you content after asking you out in the weirdest way possible. Once the shots were done, it was time to leave and you started to feel the weight of the evening on your shoulders. It would be impossible to deny that the atmosphere was awkward in the elevator. Maybe you should've been the one to have a sip or two of that whiskey. What would you even talk about?

"If you ever wish to surprise me again, you do know you have my number." You said, almost as a whisper, wishing to fill up the silence between you two.

"Once again, where's the surprise in it? And I've seen how controlling you are. You would've said no to at least two racks of those dresses. And me." You could be wrong, but was he admitting to being scared of your rejection? That would be impossible.

"Now how would you know about that?"

"You moved the flower vase at least seven times since you started setting the camera." The nonchalance of the phrase revealed a little more than what he strictly said. He was apparently catching your every move in the room.

"That's not being controlling."

"Perfectionist then."

"I'm a professional, Mr. Hosseini." He looked at you with the same eyes as he did during the last picture from the first session. You knew he didn’t like that kind of solemnity in casual settings.

"I'm also a professional. And this will be good business for both of us." The elevator’s opening door not only wrapped the conversation, but also made it official that, whatever you had agreed to, was now set in stone.

You started to wonder if being snarky was a result of being sleep deprived, being nervous, or just in the presence of him after pulling the stunt. You have had good conversations in the very few opportunities you'd meet. Never deep, though always entertaining and fun. The car ride didn't ease the pressure, as being now in front of the camera became a reality. You understood perfectly what was going on from a technical perspective, and being in front of other colleagues was a massive change. You were increasingly too aware of your angles, of how to make the dress stand out, and how you'd be expected to stand by Stewy's side. He, on the other hand, was chill and chatting along with someone on the phone, and one of his hands found its way to the leg embroidery, carefully touching each bead. You would be lying if you'd deny it made you feel a mix of comfort and arousal.

The car stopped and you had to get out. You knew that the rule would be for him to help you out, and, as if coordinated from dozens of times of making it together, once your door opened, his hand was offered. The flashing lights dazed you up for a couple of seconds, making you trust his hand in guiding you towards the carpet and the entryway. It was his confident pressure on it that made you go from apprehension to trust and, as time passed, to enjoying the walk.

The first couple of pictures were admittedly awkward, with the two of you only holding hands and standing a little too rigid for anyone's taste and with enough space for the entire Holy Family to fit between both of you. You wanted to show the dress without straying too far from him, being that you had not much of a public profile to use as leverage to stand alone. By the middle of it, you decided to just lean into all the shenanigans of the moment, accepting his hand on the small of your back, crossing yours behind him too and fully leaning towards him on some shots. You'll figure out tomorrow how good they came out looking but, for now, it was about just letting go.

The gala was beautiful, beyond anything you'd experienced. Without the pressure of documenting it on assignment, you could appreciate all that came with it. The food was great, the acts just as beautiful, and you got to interact with people who you see seldom in person, as they're part of the designers’ in-house staff. Stewy never strayed too far from you and turned out to be an engaging presence no matter the group in front of him.

It became a little clearer than before why the unexpected request with cryptic message and request could've worked best with you. You would've easily said no to a situation that put you right on the center of attention. And, when the first meeting took place, it was you who suggested Rhomboid while being in your court and under your direction. So, it must've been adequate to put you in his court for the next move. However, there were many other ways to ask you out without sounding like a creep or an ass.

"I told you you'd like it. And I'm never going to complain of how much eye fucking I've gotten from you in that little number." He said to you as you two walked together to the bar for a refill.

"Even if it was a wild card?" You looked at him bewildered, clearly caught off guard by the last remark.

"Mostly because it was the wild card. It's like getting a preview of you." His free hand made its way to the embroidered ribs, holding you tight by his side.

"You're so flirty and reveling the moment, aren't you?" You blurted you mindlessly, probably as an effect of the couple of drinks you've enjoyed so far.

"And so are you." His hand departed your ribs and made its way to the small of your back before landing on your butt. Before you could rationalize it, he pulled his move. "There's a suite with my name and your camera waiting, and I'd hate to leave all that hanging any longer."

"We're not playing with my camera. That's work equipment."

"That remote button is very tempting, and you should see what I did there." He concluded with a smirk and a soft squeeze coming from the hand on your butt.

"You took some pics of me?" His smirk quickly changed to a laugh, probably due to your own reaction to whatever he had proposed.

"Only fair if you got mine in there."

He looked towards the hall's entrance and you two started to make your way out by finishing your drinks and bidding goodbyes to any acquaintances you encountered on your path. Since there would be no cameras outside as the gala was approaching the end, it felt natural to hold his hand, share some laughter, and head towards the car without feeling observed by any prying eyes. While the proposal was intriguing as is, it was more intriguing why he didn't pull any move during the car ride beyond touching and playing with the embroidered ribs and femurs.

It was in the room that everything started to become clear. Standing near the station, he asked you to turn on the setting you had been working with. You only needed the camera and the computer, so nothing else was turned on from the afternoon shoot. After some scrolling, the screen showed the shots of you getting the dress on and looking at the mirror. You were awed by the naturality with which you seemed to have navigated an unusual circumstance as that.

"I believe the photographer did a great job setting it up. Do you know her by any chance?" Standing side by side, his hand returned to its now usual spot on the back, and it was certainly more appealing to see him without the suit jacket.

"These are quite good."

"You didn't take it personally that I didn't choose yours?"

"I didn't even know this one was a possibility. You looked almost naked, walking around the gala as if you run the place." While your eyes were still focused on the screen, his eyes were looking intently at you, a sight that had been your companion for most of the evening.

"And you got unprecedented eye fucking opportunities." You turned to face him, locking sight and reaching your hand towards the one he wasn’t using to support himself on the table.

"A rightful compliment to my invitation." He stood straight and took the remote from beside the mouse.

"You know that that’s not a toy."

"Before we begin, let me tell you how much I want to ruin this lip color." He said, giving you a kiss while holding you tight to him with one hand and the remote with the other. It wasn’t a deep kiss but you sensed it'll go beyond that if given enough time.

"Would you stand here miss?" He said pretending to not have heard you and guiding you back to where you were getting ready before.

"Now, I want to see the whole of you. Gloves, please?" He whispered on your ear before moving to kiss your neck.

"Not a chance if I don't get to do some perusing before." You manage to say before he stood half a step back to look at you as if you’d defied him.

Without removing the gloves, you took your time untying the bowtie, and opening the first three buttons of the shirt. He held you steadfastly to him and, as he asked you to do more, you never changed the pace with which you were going, carefully unbuttoning each one knowing the tease you were being by going so slowly.

After his shirt was undone, he let go of you and turned you around to plant some kisses along your neck and shoulders before his hand reached your side and undid the zipper. It was slow, calculated, and definitely doing more than a thing or two to your brain. As the dress fell to the floor due to the weight of the embroidery, his free hand explored your back, and you turned around, stepping out of the dress to undo the belt buckle and the trousers. He was still dressed, and it was unfair of him for you to be standing on your underwear while he had trousers and an undershirt on.

The continued teasing touches left you two standing fully naked, craving each other desperately, and leaving the gloves as the final barrier between teasing and fucking. He slowly helped you take one glove off, never letting go from the remote, before helping you to the other. Once both of you were standing fully naked, his hand found his way once more to the small of your back and with strength and self-assuredness, started kissing you with more passion than ever. You were certainly no fool either, letting him go for it and voicing it to his ear how good he was doing as he kissed your breasts and tended to you.

From that point on, the night became a blur. He immediately left the remote after the first kiss and guided you to the bed where things got going. You could feel his fingers and lips exploring you just as you were getting acquainted with his body. You liked the feeling of his hairy chest on you and, as you asked for more, he certainly wasn't going to leave you hanging. Excited beyond measure, you kept it going until you couldn't do any longer without feeling him inside. You took him in and reveled in the sensation of feeling full, using your legs to hold him tightly in you. Neither of you was fully sure of how many orgasms came from the nightly adventure, but as you two lied side by side, you took the pleasure of feeling exhausted for more than one reason aside from sleep deprivation. After a quick shower, the week of poor sleep caught with you, and you dozed off almost immediately after getting into the covers. You could feel Stewy's hand running along your side, similar to how he touched the rib embroidery on the dress. You're not sure if he placed one last peck on your back or not because you were already gone.

The next morning, you woke up early to see, in private, whatever Stewy managed to capture from the night. One picture immediately caught your eye where he was pressing your back against him and laying a kiss on your neck. Both seem to have forgotten the camera was there, looking absolutely locked into the moment. Another picture, him looking mesmerized as you undo his belt, getting extra light touches from the way the glove embroidery reflected light as you moved. Certainly, these pictures and the others you were selecting would enter your private collection. A thing to be only enjoyed by you.

You felt a warm hand on your shoulder, and you turned to see him awake and only wearing his boxers. He crouched to your eye level and pointed to the screen saying, "I'll want these prints first thing" before a quick peck on the cheek.

"Should I trust you to keep them private?"

"No one should ever see you like that, except me." His smugness oozed off from him and the look he gave you emphasized the nature of his request and his word. As he said to some other person at the gala, his word was his bond, and he might see to it with the seriousness with which he pulled business deals.

In the meantime, he got a notepad from the desk drawer and wrote his address.

"I want them delivered here with a special request for you to be the courier."

"Should I wear the gloves too?" You mentioned keeping a playful tone to what seemed to be a confirmation of an upcoming date.

"As much as they're yours now, I want to see them again doing precisely that." He responded by pointing at the picture where you removed his belt.

A knock on the door pulled you two out of it and breakfast was served. Who knew if and when you'd do this gala date all over again. But for now, you had a package to deliver and some joint morning aftercare to ease you back to your routine. 

[cherrybunniesposts]

MINDBOUND

After learning that a dangerous weapons dealer may be in cahoots with the League of Villains, Aizawa knows he can't let this man walk free. Aizawa follows him into the League of Villians lair, but what happens when the beloved pro hero is captured by the very man he was supposed to hunt?

Author's note: hi lovelies! this post features Aizawa×older!male reader. This is a one-shot, and likely will not be expanded further. Reader is alluded to being an older wealthy gentleman with his hands in dirty deals, but not directly part of the League of Villians himself. POV alternates between Aizawa, Reader, and third person. Thank you to @princeasimdiya12 for requesting this! ♡

Content Warning: kidnapping, restraints, dub con, chastity cages, hypnosis, male squirting, degradation,use of vibrators, overstimulation, male n!pple play, shoe riding, abuse of power. Manipulation, implications of master/slave BDSM dynamics towards the end.

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"oh? what's this?"

Aizawa lets out a startled grunt as a large hand wraps around the back of his neck, pulling the hero's head back in one easy movement. The hold was demeaning; making him feel as though he was no better than a small kitten being grabbed by the scruff of their neck in correction.

Relying on honed instincts as he tries to get clear eye contact with the man currently holding him by the neck, his quirk is rendered ineffective as his vision was blurred at the edges. He could faintly make out key features like dark slicked back hair, a grey suit and ruby red tie, and a hooked nose- and yet his eyes were lazy and unfocused, as if trying to peer through smudged lenses of glass.

When Aizawa had been tipped off that the older gentlemen in a suit and carrying a metal briefcase may have direct involvement with the League of Villians, he had been quick to act. The League of Villians were powerful enough individually with their quirks, but if human weaponry was involved in their upcoming plans, he feared what would happen to innocent citizens if this rumored deal was successful. However, the man seemed to have caught wind of the pro hero on his tails and had set a trap instead. Slinking back in the shadows and waiting until the hero was distracted by toga and two face arguing - taking advantage of his window of opportunity.

"Don't you pro heroes learn? Little heros shouldn't stick their noses where they don't belong."

Aizawa's eyes narrowed as he once again attempted eye contact with the older gentleman, needing to get the upper hand in this situation. Instead of the intended effect, his vision blurs further and his limbs begin to feel weighed down as if being dragged under water. Who was this man, and why was his quirk not working on him?

"Not to worry though, a pet can always learn new tricks with the right teachings. Let's see how handsome you'll look on your knees."

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The wealthy gentleman reclines in his loveseat across from the slumped over hero, tapping his finger on his glass of whiskey patiently. After watching the pro hero collapse to the ground, it had been easy to load Aizawa into his car and bring him back to his home office. He had been reluctant to do so but had eventually settled on restraining the pro hero's wrists with rope and covering his eyes with the ruby tie he had slipped off of his own neck. Until he was confident that the hero had been lulled into full submission of the mind, this would have to suffice for now.

A sharp inhale of air guides his attention away from his glass just quick enough for him to watch as Aizawa slowly sits up, trying to get his bearings. He knew the man's back likely ached from the way he had been bent sideways for so long and his wrists were pinned together but what was most important was Aizawa's current mind state- disoriented and groggy enough to leave him relaxed, making him malleable to bend to his will.

He leans forward and slips one curled finger under the ruby toned tie to remove it, gently shushing the younger man when Aizawa flinches away at the touch. He leans back and patiently folds up his tie once more; seeming amused when Aizawa's eyes glow red from the activation of his quirk. He could see the pro hero was already trying to twist out of the rope restraints around his wrists but he makes no move to correct Aizawa just yet, allowing the younger man to learn on his own that these knots would not be undone so easily.

"Don't bother, your quirk is useless on me. Some of us weren't blessed with quirks like you. For people like me,we have to learn how to rely on other weapons to gain power in this world."

A scoff slips from Aizawa's lips, his wrists continuing to twist back and forth inside the restraints.

"is that what I am for you then? Another weapon to brand and then sell on the black market?"

The man's lips curl up into an amused smirk, his body leaning forward to rest a hand on the pro hero's knee.

"Amusing idea, but not quite. I have a more..personal use for you, pet."

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"Relax your mind, pet. You are safe with me. Let your mind empty, and focus only on my words."

The younger man's eyelids flutter closed as he listened to the other man, willing his mind to empty. He had already accepted the fact he wouldn't be able to get out of these restraints anytime soon, and he was beginning to lose hope. While this older man was quirkless he was not powerless completely- the soothing drawl of his voice slipping into his ears and wiggling into his brain, infecting his every thought. The man knew how to spin every word to his charm and every touch to his benefit and to Aizawa's own humiliation, it was working on him.

"Very good, pet. You have nothing to fear. You are in very capable hands. Forget about being Eraser head, forget about being a teacher. Your life will be so much simpler, once you have an Open Mind."

The other man adjusts Aizawa on his lap, continuing to stroke his thigh soothingly. It had taken a bit of cooing on his part before Aizawa was willing to actually allow this but his continued patience had succeeded- and the younger man's calm behavior was being rewarded with gentle pets. He presses a soft kiss to Aizawa's temple before sliding his free hand up, rubbing his side.

"I can take care of you pet, you just need to trust me. Let me take care of all your needs, little hero. Keep an Open Mind, pet. Lift your hips."

Aizawa pushes his hips up, watching as the older man easily tugged down his pants and let them drop to the ground. His boxers were quick to come next, and yet the expected shame he assumed would come never follows.

"Open Mind.. i wish for you to spit on my hand, pet"

The connection between the phrase "open mind" and the following command was already beginning to link in Aizawa's brain, the results of the other man's hypnosis. He dips his head down and spits a glob of saliva into the other man's palm, groaning when he rewards his behavior with a few pumps of his now slick fist around his length. Each of the other man's movements were steady and calculated, always maintaining control at every moment. Aizawa was his to play with, and he would not let the younger man learn that his authority could be questioned.

The rough skin of the other man's hand on his embarrassingly hard length felt satisfying- the drag of rough skin and the slippery texture of his saliva acting as lube making his eyes roll back. He grunts as he rocks his hips up, fucking his length into the older man's fist over and over again. He grits his teeth each time the other man squeezes his length or lightly smacks the tip of his length against his belly, smearing sticky pre cum onto his skin in thin strings.

"Feels good, doesn't it pet? This is what you needed- what you'll always need from now on."

Aizawa grits his teeth at the other man's words and in a momentary lapse in judgement to try and save the withering remains of his pride, he snaps out the first response that comes to mind.

"I don't need shit from you, old pervert."

The other man tuts lightly at Aizawa's words; pulling his hand away from his throbbing length with a deep sigh. The younger man chokes down a reluctant whine when the much needed friction is taken away, his hips bucking up into the air before going still once more.

"Hmm, perhaps you haven't fully learned your place just yet, pet. Pets who speak out of turn don't get what they want."

The other man leans over, pulling out a small box hidden under his desk. He pulls the lid off, revealing a plethora of toys ranging from whips to ball gags- assorted items that had Aizawa instantly regretting his earlier words.

The younger man is forced to watch as the other man pulls out a small silver contraption of interlinked metal coils- a cock cage. The other man secures the cage into place, watching the younger man jolt at the sensation of cool metal wrapped around his heated skin. Aizawa naively assumes that was the extent of the toys that would be used on him- only to cry out in surprise when a buzzing vibrator is pressed against the small opening at the tip of the cage, pressed directly against his slit.

The younger man's eyes bug open in alarm before his back curls up, letting out a drawn out groan as he's worked over the edge mercilessly. The buzzing sounds echo in the room for only a few brief moments before he keens loudly and pushes his hips up- thick globs of cum spraying out and splattering onto the office wood floor.

The older man chuckles in amusement at just how pathetic the scene had been, finding it equal parts endearing and arousing. He holds the vibrator in place for a few more moments, only satisfied when the other man's body starts to violently jerk, and his squirt joins his previous load on the wooden flooring.

He finally clicks the vibrator off and sets the toy down onto his coffee table in front of them, one patient hand rubbing Aizawa as he shivers through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Without giving the younger man any more recovery time he curls his hand around Aizawa's jaw, shaking his head slightly to get him to focus.

"Open Mind, pet. I Wish for you to kneel at my feet."

The older man watches as Aizawa's blissed out form slides off of his lap, grunting as he moves to stand. He slides down onto his knees, moving until he was straddling the other man's right leg. He lets out a shaky exhale as he tried to ease the tremors wracking through his body, his mind thoroughly guided into submission following the intense pleasure he had been subjected to. His previous attitude had slipped away in favor of letting his mind remain empty of any more thoughts- his brain feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton as he awaits the next command.

"I Wish...for you to grind against my hand, pet. Let's see how messy you can get for me."

The other man carefully twisted off the very tip of the cock cage, leaving the metal contraption locked around the rest of the younger man's length. He gives a few lazy rubs of his knuckles against Aizawa's slit before instead curling his pointer finger around his tip and using the pad of his thumb to rub his frenulum; seeming amused at the hero's responding low whine.

"Please..need it..."

The other man continued to keep his pointer finger and thumb curled into a small circle shape, stroking up and down at a leisurely pace. His cheek rested in his other palm as he stared down at Aizawa's face, finding his fucked out expression amusing. It was clear the younger man was completely out of his element with experiences he had never tried before and he found it endearing how easy it was to make the pro hero a puddle. The thought of keeping the pro hero all to himself was sounding more and more tempting- he wouldn't mind having such a pretty toy kept safe in his home rather than running around playing hero or training useless brats with quirks. He slips his fingers away from his tip and when Aizawa lets out a keening whine in protest he flicks the tip with his middle finger, watching a few droplets of the younger man's previous load splatter onto his slacks from the impact.

"don't forget your place, pet. Your pleasure is solely mine to decide when you can indulge. Everything you'll ever have will be because of me."

The pro hero's face scrunched up into ecstasy, his ears ringing as his eyes squeezed shut. This felt nothing like the occasional times he had curled his own hand around his length in an attempt to release built up tension- and he had no clue that orgasms could feel this euphoric. Everything felt simpler when he could trust only in the older man's words, taking it as gospel truth. He was so lost to the sensations he didnt even realize that another orgasm had been pulled from his body, his length twitches and bobs periodically as he cums into the other man's cupped palm. He hisses weakly when the weak twitches of his hips earns a thumb rubbing against his leaking slit from the other man, forced to have his third orgasm drawn out as his body curls forward and his cheek squishes against his knee.

"Doesn't this feel better? no thoughts, no responsibilities. Life can be so simple for you, pet. All you have to do is stay with me."

The older gentleman croons to him while carefully cleaning up the mess still cupped in his palm, finally pulling away and giving Aizawa the opportunity to catch his breath. It was a small mercy for the pro hero to gather up his strength once more, and his previous obedience is rewarded with light strokes of his fingertips through his hair.

Aizawa's body had been slumped forward too long for the older man's patience after 2 minutes, and he was desperate to watch the trembling hero come undone again and again until Aizawa would only know that heavenly pleasure he alone could provide. He slides his hand down to Aizawa's chest and captures the right bud between two fingers, pinching with a light pressure. His tone never changes but the look in his eyes makes it clear to Aizawa that obedience was expected, and nothing less. Aizawa's recovery period was over and the older gentlemen had no intention of allowing him further pampering.

"I didn't tell you to stop yet, pet. I Wish..for you to grind against my shoe, give me one more pretty orgasm."

Aizawa's hips rock forward once more in a mindless jittery pace, forced to ride through the waves of overstimulation wracking through his body. It felt strange to continue on like this even after coming thrice as his own previous sexual encounters never stretched this long, and the test of his stamina was brutal. The cool metal against his length felt agonizing when grinding down against a leather shoe like this, yet his mind and body were at war, and his body was forced to endure more in favor of appeasing the command from his new puppet master.

His chest heaved with weak pants for air and his head dipped down, jaw slack and tongue hanging out of his mouth. Everything felt overwhelmingly addictive- the lines between pain and pleasure blurring until he couldn't imagine having one without the other- and his hands grip onto the older man's grey slacks before cumming again with a shaky cry. Thin ribbons of his seed splatter onto the laces and pointed tips of the older man's leather shoes, leaving behind milky puddles as evidence of his weakness.

"very good, pet. You're learning just as quickly as I had hoped."

The reassurance from the older gentleman hardly rings in the pro hero's ears, the static buzz in his mind making it too hard to focus. His mouth was bone dry now and his weeping tip sagged against the laces of the older man's boots, desperate for even more of that jaw clenching pleasure. Aizawa attempts to force his aching limbs into action, his thighs trembling, only for the movement to be stopped by two fingers curling under his chin and tipping his head up.

"oh no, don't bother moving, pet. I'm never letting you go. I can't lose my favorite toy now, can i?"

[justevelynnnn]

Hi, sorry to disturb you. I don't know if you take requests, but if you do. Can you do a part 2 to Mr. Scott Summers plz. Hope you're having a good day or night and happy holidays

🤍 Thank you for asking, and you’re not disturbing! I actually like getting requests because my ideas run thin a lot of the time…

🤍 Mr. Scott Summers pt. 2 🤍

Summary: You’re confronted about the note you passed in class…

Warnings: A bit suggestive in the middle but that’s all

A/N: This is a bit short because i don’t really know where to go with this story. Sorry 😭 There’s a direction I wanna take that I’m a bit nervous about, but if a third part is requested I might do it. I also wrote this in one sitting.

Part one here 🤍

When the class ended, you stayed behind like you were told. No running now. The girl you passed the note to got a quick talking to at the door by Mr. Scott. Then after she left, it was just you and him.

He cleared his throat again and motioned you to come to his desk with the “come hither” motion. You blushed wildly at this, it was ridiculous how easy it was for him to get your heart to flutter and your stomach to backflip.

You slowly approach his desk preparing for the worst. It’s probably going to be detention for a month. Maybe even a lecture about how inappropriate you were being with the note and how he’s trying to work on things with Mrs. Summers, also who you knew as the one and only Jean Gray. Maybe she was listening or watching the whole time somehow through your teacher using her telepathy? Damn, you felt so screwed right now.

“Ms. Y/n…”

His soft but strong voice causes you to look up. Your eyes met the red lenses of his glasses and though you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt his gaze. You almost felt… small.

He grabs the note and stares at it again, possibly rereading it. Then he adjusts his glasses and you swore you could see his face redden a bit.

“Can you….explain this? This note…” Scott asked.

You look at your feet now blushing. He’s just so close and his cologne, now more faint, filled your nostrils.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Summers…”, You began.

“Sorry, for what?”

Surprised, at his curious tone, like he was confused, you look up again. “For….what I wrote in the note? About you?”

“Right, about how you want to…what did you say..? “Kiss my delicious, full, rosy lips?” Hm?” He recalled and then smirked.

You freeze hearing him recite what you wrote. That smirk made it no better. You couldn’t respond because your brain literally short circuited. It’s sounds so much more lewd out loud…

“Or, what about how, “Mr. Summers ass looks so good in those khakis.” ??”.

You respond quietly still avoiding eye contact, “Um…yes..all of that..”

“I’m flattered.” He chuckled now crossing his arms…those strong, strong arms. You’re so busy admiring his forearms that you barely register his words.

Wait, did this man seriously say he’s flattered??

He laughs again to himself, unconsciously licking those full lips of his, and says really more to himself, “Jean’ll find this hilarious..”

“She’s not in your head right now…? Already?” You ask nervously.

You and some others were well aware of their telepathic connection. How, sometimes, Mr. Summers quietly talks to Jean out loud as if she’s in the room when she’s really in his head.

“No…not now at least…” Scott looks away. “We’ve been having issues.”

It was enough to stop you from pushing further, though you were still very curious what he meant. Issues… does she want nothing to do with him? Are they dine being in a relationship? You wondered about all the possibilities why Jean couldn’t stand to be in his head right now, even to just check in.

“Oh, sorry to hear that Mr. Summers…” You say quietly. You felt that was the best response.

A moment passes and he takes a breath. You’re now focused on the clock ticking on the wall and the veins in his hands, the ring on his finger and his slightly tight button down once more.

“Y/N…. You know this can’t happen again right?” Scott says quietly. There’s a serious tone to it.

You just nod and bite you lip, nervously playing with the hem of your mid-thigh length plaid skirt. Unbeknownst to you, Scott watches this.

“But, Mr. Scott..you said you were flattered..?” You give him a playful coy smile as you watch his cheeks reddening once more.

Scott couldn’t lie and say he hasn’t been feeling a certain type of way himself…it was so wrong especially with the power dynamic and how he’s been trying to make it up to Jean nowadays. Prove he’s better. But the way your innocence shines through from time to time… or how your skirts always complimented your figure. Hell, he hasn’t felt this way since Emma…

He frowns. “Um…well…it’s still a bit unprofessional…I am your teacher you know.”

You nod again.

“So, no more notes.. alright?”

“Yes..I’m sorry..”, You apologized but still with a slight smile on your face.

He lets you off with that warning only and throws away the note. You’re almost relieved of it despite still being a bit embarrassed about the whole situation.

After that day, you were more careful. You texted instead of note passing and only when Scott’s back was turned. You still would fantasize about him and his features and attributes. You’d watch the news whenever the Xmen were being interviewed or shown fighting, only caring to see Cyclops in action. He was just so fine. The way he spoke when interviewers would come to the mansion demanding answers yet again swooned you. He was so intelligent and mature. A leader.

You wish you knew how to make it stop. He was right, he’s your teacher. You felt guilty about thinking about him after the note incident. It’s just wrong.

But, if it’s so wrong why does it feel so good?

[sarksarkos]

Wonder Woman '58: Simpin' Ain't Easy

This is Wonder Woman #99, the issue where Wonder Woman goes to space and Steve Trevor goes way too far in their relationship. Welcome to the Gutters!

As we saw in our last look at Wonder Woman, this was a new take on DC's amazon princess, but it still assumed that the reader had a lot of knowledge of the character. For example, the comics don't really explain the context of Wonder Woman's magic lasso or her invisible plane. In the Golden Age, the lasso represented the bdsm aspects of the Amazons, and the invisible plane showed they were scientifically advanced. Here, they're simply part of her toolset. Wonder Woman had a phenomena where different aspects of her origin will be emphasized and others downplayed as she's reinvented over the years. This version is downplaying more of the weirdness of her origins for the sake of simplicity.

The first story of issue #99 is about Steve Trevor getting lost in space and Wonder Woman coming to his rescue. It's an alright story, and a pretty good way to mix the character into the space age, but I want to talk about the second because it is a fascinating look into Steve Trevor. Steve has massive Kenergy. In fact, because Barbie wouldn't be created until 1959, you could say Steve Trevor is the original Ken.

Steve is a hyper-competent man's man, every bit as badass as golden age pulp heroes like Flash Gordon or Doc Savage, but compared to Wonder Woman he's just some guy. And props to the man, he's not jealous or resentful, he's an absolute simp for Wonder Woman. Whomst amongst us wouldn't be? It's not entirely clear what Wonder Woman sees in him, but, unlike Superman and Lois, she at least seems to reciprocate it.

Wonder Woman feels compelled by her heroic duties to let Steve down, but she agrees to marry him if he proves that his romantic sentiments are true. For the next day, Steve plays hide-and-seek with Wonder Woman, always able to catch her no matter how she's disguised. Wonder Woman discovers that Steve planted flourescent paint on her, and had been tracking her with special contact lenses.

After washing the paint off, Wonder Woman goes so far as to get herself commissioned in the ...I want to say Air Force? It's vague. She gets herself assigned as Steve Trevor's assistant in the identity of Lt. Diana Prince, using the same glasses trick as Superman. The timeline on this is a little wonky, because she would have had to go through all her training in less than a day, not to mention creating a whole false identity for herself

Issue #💯shows Wonder Woman returning to Paradise Island to face challengers to her title of champion. The current champion always has to face this under handicap, so we see things like Wonder Woman winning a chariot race while hopping into a potato sack. Halfway through the issue, it's revealed that this Paradise Island is still scientifically advanced, because the Amazon scientists have invented an interdimensional transporter, which summons Wonder Woman's variant from Dimension X.

The story then goes completely off the rails. WW-X challenges the prime Wonder Woman for no real reason, which is an exact tie. Then the two Wonders Women go into Dimension X, which is some kind of fairy tale world with giants. They fight the giants for a bit and we never actually see the tie-breaker for the contest, just that our Wonder Woman won. It's nonsense but there's enough charm to see it through.

There's also a milestone story which is nice to see, as these usually passed unmentioned in the silver-ish age. This is also an early metafictional comic, as the Amazons have also been publishing Wonder Woman's adventures as what is implied to be a comic book, but looks more like a zine. This raises far more questions than can ever be answered, so we're just going to skate by this issue before the Anti-Monitor eats us.

Wonder Woman #101 is another relationship issue between Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor, and it fleshes out what works between them. As much as Steve simps for Wonder Woman, she's also attracted to him because he's a man of action. He can usually get out of trouble on his own, but she enjoys coming to his help when he needs it. Also, they just love fucking with the weird situationship between them.

Steve makes a bet that if he needs Wonder Woman to save his life three times in one day, she'll agree to marry him. While Wonder Woman doesn't want to give up being a superhero - because it's just taken as read that she can't be a superhero while she's married - she still treats this as a game between them. Naturally, she rushes to save Steve whenever he's in trouble, but the status quo is preserved when the timeline on their bet runs out before the final save.

There's a backup story where Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor are trapped in a house of mirrors where every mirror is a time portal. It's a fun story, but it's just a bit of harmless fluff.

The last issue we're going to look at for 1958 is #102, which takes the premise we saw last time and runs wild with it. Steve Trevor makes one of his romantic boasts, that he would never be able to mistake anyone else for the real Wonder Woman. Then, the instant he says that, God comes down and says "prove it."

It's not actually God, but it is a giant that's so massively bigulous that it can't even be depicted on panel, and all we ever see is a massive eyeball filling up the whole panel. This absolutely slaps right here. This is a brilliant depiction of something so absurdly powerful it can't even be comprehended and I love it so much.

The giant, for some reason, is going to destroy the earth if Steve can't tell who the real Wonder Woman is, and makes him pick her out from three identical Women Wonders. Steve has them do feats of strength and skill, but that proves fruitless as all of them are physically and mentally equal. The final test that proves who the real Wonder Woman is in her kiss. Steve kisses all three of them in turn, and instantly recognizes the real one.

This is... Wonder Woman and Steve definitely have a weirder relationship, but it overall feels like a healthier one than either Batman or Superman have. The art style is also more dynamic and realistic than the locked-in, cartoony styles of Batman and Superman comics, and it helps that Wonder Woman only has one ongoing comic and not seventy jillion. All this adds up ton one of my favorite comics of this period.

Coming up, we take another look at DC showcase and we see what new concepts get introduced to the universe. Until next time!

[iluminaru]

In honor of Valentine's day, I present you headcanons of my all time favorite Total drama couple: Alejandro and Heather.

Alejandro loved Valentine's day since he was a pre-teen, the atmosphere filled with love and hope always was delightful and appealing him. Heather, on the other hand, isn't a fan of this celebration. She loved watching teenage drama series, movies, shows. All of them had romantic relationships/interests between the main characters, so she dreamed of having one as well. But to be fair, she felt nothing towards Valentine's day, like it was an ordinary day. Although, when she and Alejandro have officially started dating, she's warmed up a little to the Day of love.

Usually, Alejandro is the one who sets up dates, but sometimes Heather takes control over it. Most of the time she doesn't know what she's doing, but they both ending up enjoying their date.

Heather doesn't know how to show affection, it's a complete opposite for Alejandro, who's very affectionate. Because of this, she feels like she's not reciprocating enough to his love and care.

Alejandro's hobby is dollmaking. Once he made a pair of dolls which resembled him and Heather holding hands. These dolls now sitting on a shelf of a glass door closet next to their bed.

Heather often uses Alejandro as a pillow or laying on top of him. She's just likes to cuddle him or be cuddled by him.

After the volcano accident, Alejandro needs glasses. Not in a way that he can't see without them, but his vision was damaged. Problem is, he doesn't like wearing glasses. He tried to use contact lenses, but turns out, he's allergic to them. Heather is pushing him to start wearing glasses more often, every time they're at a shopping center, she takes him to optician's in order to choose a new frames.

They do movie nights quite often. Ever since Heather made Alejandro watch a couple of movies with her, he's started to like television. Usually they would watch a horror movie, sometimes anime or Scooby-Doo.

Heather's favorite dessert is a blueberry muffin dipped in chocolate. Every time when Alejandro wants to surprise her by making something delicious, he's always making these muffins.

Alejandro is easy swooned by even smallest bits of affection by Heather. She gifted him a rose? His happiness is unmeasurable. She commitmented him? Head over heels. She called him "love" or copied his "mi amore"? He will remember this for weeks.

Alejandro's favorite flowers are sunflowers, but he'll be more appreciative if gets roses (his second favorite flowers). It would be weird to have a giant flower in a bucket, because he couldn't find a vase that fits. He did sometimes imagined that, but he wasn't ready for Heather to actually get him a middle-sized sunflower. Thankfully, it was only once and he won't be dealing with a 5 feet (152.4 cm) tall flower ever again.

They're often attacking eachother, but in a harmless, playful manner. Like pushing each other into a snowdrifts or into a pile of leaves. The least thing they want to do is to cause any harm, but if they do accidentally hurt each other, they'll apologize immediately.