#and my only option is to pressure these service worker because they are the only people I can ask for help
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#since becoming disabled I have had to#become so pressuring and so mean and so demanding of other people who are constantly dropping the ball when it comes to by health#‘you said my medication would be ready this morning why is it not ready’#‘you said you would book my appointment by last Friday it’s now Wednesday’#because otherwise I will#die#I will Die if I don’t have my medication if I don’t get to see the doctor#and I hate it#I feel so awful#but what else can I do?#I am beholden to this crumbling médicale system that doesn’t care if patients live or die#and my only option is to pressure these service worker because they are the only people I can ask for help#I use to be able to afford to be accommodating#nothing was life or death#this has been such a subtle sinister change to my life#and I feel it slowly withering my soul#anyway#ari
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Confidence, Part 2
Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 4
Pairing: Sex Worker!Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)
Prompt: FREE WEEK | [Optional prompts: “A” - Anal Hook, Acarophilia, Age Play] @buckybarnesevents
Summary: (3k) Bucky is a full-service sex worker who enjoys helping women become more confident in their sexuality. This picks up right where part 1 ended.
Warnings: 18+ Only. Very brief mention of an abusive ex. Mention of insecurities. Pet names (sweetheart, baby). Consent talk. Dirty talk. Praise. Oral (m receiving). Fingering. Squirting.
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Bucky’s the first person, other than herself, that’s ever been able to make her come. The intense experience has left her wanting to explore more with him, the need to bring him pleasure suddenly her only focus.
“Can I suck your cock?”
She’s just full of surprises tonight.
The question has Bucky grinding harder against her, the delicious heat and wetness of her seeping through his underwear doing nothing to help him regain control. It’d be so easy to just give in to his carnal desires, to give her exactly what she’s asking for, but he’s a better man than that.
There was a reason she was reluctant to begin with and Bucky needs to make sure she’s not doing this out of some sort of obligation.
With a soft groan, he meets her gaze, one hand underneath her head to keep her attention as they move together. “Is that what you want, baby?” The increased pressure against her sensitive clit is almost too much, but he refuses to let up, watching as she gasps and trembles underneath him. “Or, are you only asking because you think I want you to suck my cock?”
She can’t seem to concentrate, her body and mind overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts. She’s breathless, clinging to him, her hips rocking against his, seeking out whatever he’ll give her - but she’s also worried that maybe she said the wrong thing. Maybe it’s not even something he wants. Maybe she overstepped.
Bucky doesn’t want her to get in her head about this - he needs her to say exactly what she’s thinking, without hesitation. Forcing himself to ignore the whine that tears out of her as he reluctantly pulls away, his own body just as desperate for hers, he murmurs, “Easy.” He reaches down to still her hips, his tattooed hand still cradling her head, encouraging her not to look away from him. “I need you to understand something, okay?”
She wants to keep him against her, but she doesn’t fight it, letting him be in control, her hands resting on his waist.
“You don’t owe anyone anything,” he tells her, the slow shake of his head conveying the seriousness of this conversation. “Certainly not me.”
A wave of regret and embarrassment washes over her, her first instinct to wish she never told Bucky about her ex. There’s nothing sexy about admitting your only experiences with giving head is with an ex who pressured you.
The look he gives her isn’t one of pity though. It’s understanding. Compassion. Desire. All the things she’s longed for in a lover.
She can’t let her insecurities win. Not anymore. Especially not while she’s lying naked and wanting underneath a man who already made her forget her own name. She wants more of that. More pleasure. More fun.
Taking a risk, she slides her hand down between them, not stopping until she reaches the waistband of his underwear, her fingertips tracing along the elastic. The grin that appears on his face gives her the last bit of confidence she needs to tell him, “I want this… not because it’s expected, I just… I want to make you feel good… if that’s okay?”
The need to reward her is too strong to deny and Bucky leans up, careful not to move away from her touch, wanting her to make the decision when to take the next step. Instead, his hand coasts from her hip up to her throat to loosely wrap around her neck, the intimate action causing pleasure to wash over both of them.
“I’d love nothing more than to have my cock in your pretty mouth, sweetheart,” he promises, his breath quickening to match hers, the sight of her body arching underneath him causing his cock to ache with need. “I just needed to make sure you want this as much as I do.”
There are a lot of things she wants right now, but none more than this. With her newfound confidence - and the fear that it’ll fade - she asks for permission to touch him, more than ready to keep going.
Bucky’s eager response has her giggling, the sound fading into a moan when she finally makes contact. Just the softest brush of her palm along his covered erection and he’s moaning with her, pressing against her hand, his own fingers twitching around her throat.
She might not know what he likes, but that doesn’t mean she can’t learn. And if his immediate reactions are any indication, she’s already on the right track.
Refusing to allow herself to overthink things, she keeps the same slow pace, stroking the length of him through his underwear, the obvious signs of pleasure spurring her on. There’s something intoxicating about being the sole reason for this beautiful man’s moans and grunts and she needs more.
“I want to suck your cock.”
There’s no hesitation or hint of nerves in her words and it has Bucky cursing, his cock growing even harder for her. He can barely concentrate as it is, the taste of her still on his tongue, her bold touch leaving him breathless, and before he knows it, he’s helping her rid himself of the last bit of clothing, freeing his thick cock from the confines of his underwear.
This time it’s her turn to curse, a laugh bubbling out of her as she blurts out, “Well, now I know where your confidence comes from.” He’s bigger than she anticipated, despite the several times she’s felt him throughout the evening.
Bucky laughs along with her, proudly displaying his body, the mattress dipping as he kneels next to where she lays against the pillows. He’s aware he’s above average, and even though he doesn’t believe he’s nearly as intimidating as she’s making it seem, he’s quick to tell her, “I appreciate the ego stroke.”
Taking advantage of the obvious set up, she reaches out to touch him again, a playful grin lighting up her features as she asks, “Do you appreciate this kind of stroke too?”
If he wasn’t suddenly overwhelmed by the warm grip around his cock, he’d be able to tell her how proud of her he is. For allowing herself to be in control, for asking for what she wants, for having fun and letting herself be completely in the moment with him. But the only thing that comes out of him is a soft grunt mixed with laughter, “Fuck yes.”
She doesn’t need any more convincing than that and starts a slow rhythm, using the pooling pre-cum at the tip to get him slick. She’s mesmerized by the way his breathing gets faster, the slight tensing of his thighs each time she works her hand over the head of his cock, the look on his face giving her just as much pleasure as his touch is.
With his left hand on the headboard to keep himself steady, his eyes follow the path his other hand takes, just in awe of her body as she is of his. The slight bump of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, the softness of her stomach. And god, her thighs. He wants them wrapped around his head again, to feel her squeezing him as she comes.
Bucky almost asks for it. The image of him burying his face between her thick thighs while she sucks his cock has him thrusting against her hand. She’d probably let him too, but this isn’t about him. She was clear about what she wanted and he’s not going to push for anything else right now.
Not that it’s hard for him to give in anyway, the hungry look in her eyes encouraging him to move closer, his cock soon within reach of her mouth. And then every thought leaves him. The need to taste her again, the desire to suggest a different position for her comfort, all of it gets shoved to the back of his mind.
The slow swirl of her wet tongue quickly makes his breath catch and he loses focus, his hand stilling on her thigh, his fingers gripping her soft skin. “Fuck,” he exhales.
She’s already moaning, the salty taste making her crave more of him as her hand starts to stroke her saliva along his cock. She can’t get over how hard he is for her, barely having done anything yet, and the realization that everything she does seems to be turning him on has her comparing this to previous experiences.
There won’t be any second-guessing herself though, and as she pulls back to look up at him, her hand keeps moving, not wanting to stop the pleasure she’s giving him. She can tell it’s hard for him to concentrate, but she still asks the question, trying not to blush. “Will you tell me if I do something wrong?”
For a second, all Bucky can do is blink, his breath shallow from the way she’s touching him, the occasional brush of her thumb over the tip of his cock making him stutter. “Not… not gonna happen.”
She briefly bites her lip, his reactions causing her body to pulse and she resists the urge to touch herself, wanting all of her attention to be on him right now. With a soft giggle, she asks, “Because there’s no such thing as a bad blow job?”
Bucky grins and shakes his head. “No, sweetheart.” His free hand moves off the headboard to tenderly cup her face and his thumb slides over her bottom lip, the bit of saliva there making her even more gorgeous. “There are definitely bad blow jobs - if anyone involved isn’t enjoying themselves, no one’s gonna have a good experience.”
Her words aren’t needed, but she still feels compelled to say them. “I’m enjoying myself.”
“I know.” The grin on his face grows at the same moment his lips part and he exhales sharply again, the tip of her tongue teasing over the pad of his thumb almost making him forget what he wants to say. “Just… keep doing whatever feels good, okay? ‘Cause everything you do feels fucking amazing to me.”
She doesn’t need more instructions than that, and after letting his thumb slip from between her lips, she guides his cock back into her mouth, sliding the head along her tongue. She follows her instincts, finding an easy rhythm, listening to the way his breathing changes with each pass of her hand working in tandem with her mouth.
The incredible sounds she’s already eliciting from him ignite the fire inside of her, and she shifts, using the pillow underneath her shoulder for support. Her elbow digs into the mattress to give her more leverage and she starts moving faster, paying attention to the way her tongue flicking against the sensitive glands has him gripping the back of her head.
Careful not to take charge of the pace, Bucky runs his fingers through her hair and allows himself to get lost in the moment, his eyes never straying from her. The stretch of her lips around him, the occasional string of saliva that keeps him connected to her when she pulls back to take a breath, the perfect way she keeps stroking his cock.
“God,” he breathes, “you feel so good, baby.”
She hums against him and he nearly loses it, his hips tensing, wanting to thrust into her mouth. He holds himself back, taking the opportunity to start touching her again, his hand moving from her thigh to her large breasts, the sight of her tits bouncing with each bob of her head driving him crazy.
The moment his fingers gently pinch one of her nipples, she gasps and pulls back, driven by lust to do everything she can to make him lose his mind. She slides her hand up, stroking just the tip of his cock, and tilts her head, slowly dragging her tongue along the underside of his shaft, all the way down to his balls.
“Oh fuck,” Bucky curses immediately, his cock twitching, oozing more pre-cum, and he’s overcome with the urge to praise her, the words tumbling out of his mouth between soft grunts. “Look at you… Such a good girl… Doing so good for me…”
It’s too much, each utterance making her body pulse with arousal and soon her hips shift, spreading her thighs wide, her pussy just begging to be touched. She doesn’t even give him a chance to react though before she’s taking his cock deep in her mouth again, the head brushing the back of her throat.
The gag she makes barely even registers as her free hand moves between her legs, seeking out her swollen clit for a bit of relief. She’s so turned on and the only thing that would make this better is if Bucky finally stops holding back. She wants nothing more than for him to fuck her mouth.
And all it takes is just a bit of encouragement from her, the hand on his cock sliding between his thighs to grab his ass, pulling him towards her. The words spill out of him unfiltered, his hand on her head gripping her hair as he tentatively thrusts into her mouth, “Is this what you need, baby? For me to fuck that pretty mouth while you play with your pussy?”
It’s enough to almost make her come and she shifts, opening her mouth wider, welcoming his thrusts as he starts to move a bit faster, both his hands tangling in her hair for leverage. It’s never been like this for her and she can’t get enough, doing her best to relax her throat as she takes him deeper each time, hungry to take all of him.
Bucky doesn’t want to overwhelm her, but he follows her lead, holding her head steady as makes her take more of him, his body tensing at the tight heat of her throat. “Shit, baby, oh my god.” He’s having a hard time breathing, let alone talking, but he wants to keep praising her, loving the way his dirty talk brings her pleasure. “You’re so good… taking my cock so well… You wanna come like this? With my cock down your throat, sweetheart?”
Her fingers speed up, pressing hard against her clit, the familiar tingle building deep inside of her, and she can only imagine how she looks. Tears wetting her lashes, her saliva dripping out of her mouth, her hand gripping his ass as she moans and whines around his cock.
“That’s it,” he growls, “don’t fucking stop. Want you to come for me... Show me how much you love sucking my cock.”
That’s all it takes, and her hips lift off the bed at the exact moment that Bucky pulls out of her mouth, his grip on her hair forcing her head back, letting him get to witness her fall apart for him. The cry of pleasure that pours out of her has him nearly coming with her and he reaches down to cover her fingers with his, keeping the pressure up as her legs clamp around both their hands.
“Oh, good girl.”
“I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“You did so good for me.”
She’s so overwhelmed, intense waves of pleasure rushing over her, that all she can do is grind her hips, chasing the euphoria, even after it starts to become too much, her body quickly growing sensitive.
Bucky already seems to know her body well though, how to keep her right where he needs her to prolong the feelings, and his fingers soon seek out her entrance, her walls still fluttering with aftershocks from her orgasm.
“Oh god,” she gasps, reaching out to hold his arm as her trembling thighs spread for him, already desperate for more. “Bucky… I… it’s…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to tell him, but he immediately soothes her, settling next to her while he teases her with just the tips of his fingers.
“Just relax for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her softly, trying to find a balance between helping her catch her breath while also wanting to make her come again. “I’ve got you.”
Her mind is still foggy, her thoughts hazy with the lingering effects of coming so hard, all because she was so turned on from giving him head. But, she can’t stop thinking that his pleasure was cut short for hers, and now she’s come twice. “What about you?”
“What about me, baby?” Bucky’s grinning, knowing exactly what she’s asking, but he wants her to tell him - to at least try. She’s come so far in such a short time, he doesn’t want her to regress.
She doesn’t want to either, and with a soft exhale of a laugh, she tries to explain how she feels selfish, whispering, “I… you didn’t… fuck.” It’s so hard to string a coherent sentence together, his fingers still stroking along her wetness, and another soft laugh leaves her as her hold on his bicep tightens.
Bucky takes pity on her, brushing his nose along her cheek, his soft beard tickling her jaw. “You made me feel so good.” Her breath catches and he keeps going, her slick pussy pulsing each time he teases her entrance. “But, right now, all I can think about is feeling you come around my fingers again. Is that okay?”
For just a split second, she almost tells him no. But, that’s her anxiety talking - her insecurities telling her that she’s already had enough pleasure and they should be focusing on him. But, if there’s anything he’s proved to her tonight, it’s that making his partner feel good is just as satisfying as being on the receiving end.
As soon as she’s telling him yes, he’s thanking her, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine and he pulls back just enough to watch her. The way her thighs tense and shake, her soft gasps and shuddering exhales, the fluttering of her eyelashes. He can’t get enough of her and the urge to fuck her senseless drives him to suddenly fill her with his fingers.
He wastes no time before he’s curling them, pressing hard against her front wall, massaging her g-spot, reducing her to nothing but breathless whines and cries of “oh my god” again. Her head thrown back against the pillow, her eyes shut tight, each stroke coaxing more wetness out of her.
Bucky’s on a mission, remembering how she told him she squirts sometimes. She’s never done it with anyone else before, and he wants to be the first person to have the pleasure of witnessing it. To be the first person to make it happen.
The only thing she can do is go along for the ride, her left hand spreading her pussy for him, giving him the perfect opportunity to grind his palm against her clit, his soft words of praise filling her head. She can already feel the pressure building, his fingers never letting up, fucking her perfectly as she cries out of his name.
She thought she’d be nervous or hesitant about this part, but it’s impossible. He’s just as turned on as she is, enjoying himself right along with her, and she wants to give him everything. Especially when he growls, “Give me what I want. Squirt all over my fucking hand, baby. Let me feel it.”
Whatever he wants, she’ll give him.
With a loud gasp of a moan, her body lets go, her wetness soaking his palm, the wet, obscene noises pushing her over the edge. Her breath gets caught in her throat and her back arches, her thighs threatening to close but Bucky quickly sits up, using his free hand to hold her open, fucking her through her orgasm, making her squirt over and over.
“You’re so fucking hot.”
“Holy shit, look at that.”
“Never seen anything so beautiful.”
“So fucking perfect, baby.”
He doesn’t stop until he’s sure she can’t take anymore - the twitching of her thighs, the tensing of her stomach, the soft whimpers telling him exactly when to pull back, immediately gathering her in his arms. HIs fingers don’t leave her until his lips are on hers, swallowing the whine she makes from the loss, kissing her passionately as she shudders underneath him.
Bucky’s so proud of her, and he can’t wait to show her everything else she’s capable of tonight.
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x plus size female reader#bucky barnes x plus size reader#bucky barnes x curvy reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky#bucky fanfiction#bucky fic#bucky smut#bucky x plus size reader#bucky x curvy reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader#fanfiction#fic#smut#x plus size female reader#x plus size reader#x curvy reader#x female reader#x reader#sebastian stan#hotbuckysummer2024#das confidence series#das fic
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Faeriekit's big fat library post: what is a public library for?
Things almost any public library will do:
Let you borrow books. (Specialty libraries and archives may not permit you to borrow delicate materials. You may be able to look at them nevertheless, but you dont know until you ask.)
Allow you to put items on hold! (Want us to pull a book or hold it for you? We'll set it aside under your name as soon as it's available!)
Allow you to join in for programming (may be as simple as kids storytimes, or as complicated as academic lectures. It's usually cooking classes and knitting sessions though when the budget gets short. We love outside presenters though, especially locals.)
Inter-library loans (don't have a rare book? We'll try to get it from another library!)
Things your library will PROBABLY let you do:
Let you borrow other forms of physical media, such as DVDs, Video Games, audiobooks, CDs, etc. (This may cost you extra depending on library policy.)
Let you borrow magazines! (It's not like you're paying for a subscription, unless you're me and you like mail. Let us get them for you.)
Print/fax/scan (depends on the tech available in your library; for instance, it costs your library money to maintain a fax-specific phone line, so they may not do fax. Again, price may vary.)
Access online databases! (Ah, Ebsco. We meet again.) (But sometimes there's some cool stuff. Genealogy databases, kids' encyclopedias, all kinds of cool stuff)
Borrow ebooks and eaudiobooks! And maybe even emagazines! (Despite what people say, Libby is NOT the only service that allows your library to share ebooks with your device. There's like five I can think of off the top of my head, and your library has to pay to play. Ask which service your library offers directly so you can get the good stuff)
Put up/look at flyers. (Good for sharing public information! I just used one of our advertised services to apply for low income housing. Love library wages...woo...)
Let you volunteer! Need something to add to your resume? Need wo build up some real world work skills in a low pressure environment?Spend some time with us!
Let you use public computers! Check your email or watch yt vids or apply for jobs. Up to you.
Play with board games or puzzles as long as you're there. They may even have a swap for people to trade!
Things your library MAY have to offer you:
Makerspace (cool tech that lives at the library you can use/pay to use, such as tools, 3d printers, etc.)
Borrowing cooler tech to take home (WiFi hotspots, single-use tablets, and other cool tech)
English courses! Learn with peers!
Borrowing actual tools! (I had one library card that let me borrow hiking stuff like tents and navigational tools and sewing machines and other cool stuff and they will not renew my card because policy changed and no I'm not crying—)
Museum passes (hey! Sometimes you can get into a museum for free or for cheap!)
Book requests (hey. If you tell the library to buy a book, we may just straight up buy it! Why not? It's a guaranteed circ!)
Social worker/social work help (depends on if your library can cut a deal with an organization that has social workers)
Paperwork help for seniors (I don't know how this works because our town handles this one.)
Notary public services! (This one's just straight up like. My boss.)
Tutoring services! (We have kid volunteers AND a paid online service subscription to a tutoring site. Not bad.)
Certain streaming options! (Movies and television right as your fingertips! Or. Well. You know.)
Home delivery for housebound folks! (This one again depends on staffing, resources, money, etc etc.)
Book purchase! (No, really. Sometimes there's old books for sale, or donor books for sale, to help keep libraries running.)
And, of course, sometimes your local librarians are geniuses and come up with things I haven't even thought of. The moral of the story is, libraries do a lot of things, but the majority of them, as you can probably tell, depend on size, budget, physical resources, and local support. If you are interested in any of these services, please reach out to your local library; even if they don't offer these services specifically, making your interest known tells the library what sort of things people are looking for in the community, and may even affect financial decisions down the road. The thing I would like to emphasize the most, however, is that you are likely already paying for these services in the form of tax dollars; if you do not physically go and find out what services you are entitled to, you will never be able to take advantage of them.
Call your local library today to find out the specifics!
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M O O N L I G H T ™
Pulling into the lonely gas station, my eyes quickly find what I'm looking for, a pair of blue lights emanating in the darkness. The glow is coming from the gas attendant's skull: clear indication that he's a Moonlight™ employee.
"Good evening, sir," he says with the overly-endearing tone of a gracious host, "How may I be of service tonight?
I don't hide my distaste for the pathetic menial worker, leaning on his mop and waiting for my reply like he's got the best job in the world. He doesn't actually believe that. He doesn't even know what he's saying, let alone doing!
"Just fill her up," I grunt.
"You got it, sir!" he beams, tending to my car with a pep that's out of place for the late hour.
Moonlight™ was the app that revolutionized working culture forever. It allows the user to sign up for a job while they sleep. All they have to do is doze off and some insufferable AI from Moonlight™ will resume control of the body via remote connection. People like it because they get paid work without experiencing all the boring hours and insincere customer interactions. Subsequently, they always get the same unbearably eager personalities stuffed in their bodies. Even without the glowing eyes, their idiotic grins would make them stand out a mile away!
"How has your day been, sir?" he contines mopping as the gas slowly pumps.
"Don't try to chat," I snap.
"Of course, sir," he doesn't miss a beat, smiling as he returns his neon gaze to the sidewalk he's swabbing.
I just roll my eyes and wander inside. The app doesn't record memories while it's in control, so this guy has no idea how humiliated he should feel. No one should have a shit-eating grin on their face working the night shift as a gas station janitor! I'd die before I gave up my dignity to Moonlight™ like this fucking loser!
On the TV behind the register, an ad plays...
The costumed man on the left steps forward and announces, "Join the revolution. There are over forty-two-million Moonlighter's taking advantage of their sleep! That could be you!"
The statistic makes me cringe. It's nearly doubled since the last time I checked...
The man on the far right of the screen happily taps in, adding, "We're constantly expanding our scope, so check with your employer! If your job doesn't already have a Moonlight™ option, then ask your boss to give you one!"
God, they're pressuring people now? Some jobs should not be done by an AI puppeteered Moonlighter...
Finally, the man in the center steps forward to deliver his lines, "Remember, Moonlighting is a safe and healthy way to not only make money but also get a good night's rest! Why work all day, when you can do it in your sleep!" his head turns, making it seem like he's smiling at either of his coworkers, "After all, we are!"
The three men laugh in unison, like true colleagues chumming up at work, but I know the truth. These three are worse than actors, they're empty marionettes for the Moonlight™ corporation. I doubt they'd ever even met each other in real life...
"Shut up!" I groan, smashing the power button to turn it off.
This world is going to shit. Moonlight™ has grown too large over the past year for there not to be some conspiracy or ulterior motive. I don't know what it is: the elite keeping the working class in their place, our government influencing our decisions, a foreign country converting us into their slaves! It all sounds crazy, but I don't think a single theory is impossible with an app like Moonlight™.
I'm the only one probing into this mess. I may have only worked as a detective for a few years, but I never did any of it fucking asleep!
A few days later, I track down my first lead...
"Good morning, sir," the garbage man says in that unnaturally smooth cadence they all have, "Is there any trash you need collected?"
"I just have some questions," I snort.
One hand pulls the hem of my shirt over my nose while the other swats at the flies. These garbage trucks are absolutely filthy. I doubt the garbage companies even bother washing them out anymore, but why should they if their workers are soulless husks without the ability to care? The man in front of me seems completely oblivious to the mixture of rotting smells and accompanying bugs. His glowing eyes don't even blink as a fly lands on his face, crawling through the hairs of his beard. He's probably lucky that he goes home with no memory of this downright awful job.
"Are you looking for employment with Moonlight™ incorporated?" his smiling lips stir the bug on his face, but it quickly buzzes into the moist retreat of the man's dark armpit, "I'd love to help you install the app and-"
"No," I cut, "Just open the truck. I accidentally threw out something I shouldn't have."
I study the man's frozen grin for anything. It's a test. The Moonlight™ AI is designed to accept demands from free-willed customers, but I have a suspicion that the building nearby is an undocumented base for the company. If I'm right, the company would hate for anyone to root through the garbage of their secret lab...
"...I apologize, sir, but the garbage has already been compacted, and it is unsafe for non-employees to look inside. Please let me know what it is you are looking for and I will search for you."
His artificial glee didn't wane, but the blue light in his eyes did flicker just barely. This guy might be asleep, walked around by remote AI tech, but I could still tell he was lying. I'd like to see one of the Moonlight™ detectives figure that out. As I said, some things are better done the old-fashioned way...
"Well, thanks anyway," I snark, planting a slap on his sweat-soaked back. He says something about it being his pleasure as he resumes handling the garbage, flies eternally buzzing around his smiling head and glowing eyes.
Continuing my investigation, I pop down in the sewer, looking for an underground entrance to Moonlight™'s secret lab...
"Are you lost, sir? Let me help you."
I've had to breathe through a mask to put up with the heavy cloud of steaming sewage, but the Moonlight™ septic worker seems fine, smiling with an open mouth, specks of God-knows-what dried on his teeth.
"No, I'm where I should be," I dismiss him and march past.
Suddenly a muddy glove sticks out and holds my chest. "I'm afraid you cannot pass, sir," his smile is as strong as ever, but the trademark glow of his eyes intensifies.
I've never felt more sure about my suspicions. This mind controlled worker seems ready to fight rather than let me pass. I wonder if this poor soul knows he's being used as a guard as well as being a Moonlight™ sewage worker.
"Why don't you show me the way out then," I relent.
"Of course, sir," his hand removes itself from my chest, leaving a dirty print, "The sewer is a dangerous place for civilians."
I follow as he marches me out of the sewer. It's better to leave and come back later with a plan. Today, I confirmed my suspicions, but tomorrow, I'll finally see what secrets they're cooking up in that lab. I return home and end the day with the satisfaction of being close to a major discovery. Sleep finds me quickly...
Waking up in my bed, I check my phone and find an unsettling message waiting for me...
"Congratulations on finishing your first shift with Moonlight™!" the text reads, "Here is a photo of you hard at work last night!"
"What the FUCK!"
I jump out of bed, but instantly everything feels off. My back aches and my legs are more tired than they were last night! My pajamas are uncomfortable, pinching in areas like someone else dressed me in them! My mind is racing with confusion, and an overwhelming sense of self-consciousness rushes over me. My face burns from the violation, but most of my fear is focused on the strange feeling lingering in the back of my private area.
"What did they do to me?" I try to be pissed, but all I can do is whimper.
Suddenly my phone rings...
"Hello," I growl.
"Good morning, sir," a familiarly gracious man's voice rolls through the call.
"Tell me who the fuck this is!"
"Someone who noticed you snooping the other day, sir," his voice sounds like it's smiling.
Suddenly it clicks. Whoever's calling me from Moonlight™ would never use their own phone and voice. They must be using some poor schmuck that thinks he's working an honest job right now. How am I ever supposed to find who's behind all these layers of lies?
"You can hind behind your brainless puppets," I sneer, "But I will not stop looking into this fucked up company!"
"But now you're one of our puppets, sir. I'm not sure how much credibility a detective has if he spends his nights working the room at the dirtiest club in town..."
"That's sick..." I whisper, thinking about the picture on my phone. The idea of me gleefully stripping for a room of disgusting old men makes me shiver.
"Good luck with your investigation, sir," the voice continues, "But just understand that every time you sleep, your body will get up and report to that club. I have to admit that you're hiding a rather tight body under that trench coat of yours."
"You were there?" I mutter.
"Oh I had to meet the man poking his nose where it didn't belong, sir. I got very familiar with you. You were very friendly last night, so I poked something of mine where it didn't belong."
The voice on the other line laughs, and all I feel is utter humiliation. I hang up the call and stare at the photo he'd sent. It was me alright, smiling like a maniac in the gayest outfit I've ever seen. I didn't like my body being dressed like that. I hate that I was happily busting my ass for the enemy. He had to have been getting off at my humiliation last night. I'm sure he relished every second of what he did to me. I don't even want to think about the sensation left in my ass.
I need to push this investigation faster.
Because tonight, when I go to sleep, I'll be helpless to prevent this from happening again.
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Was thinking about @shapeshiftersinc 's binders and wanted to review them on here :D
Im gonna be fully honest because. Why the hell would i lie???
Overview-
They are a great binder company. I fully reccomend buying from them- they have the best chest binders ive been able to find and are extremely inclusive and helpful. If you have the money to get one and are worrying it wont be worth it. Trust me. It is.
Pros-
Extremely comfortable.
I mean it. I have sensory issues- other binders ive had have been way too itchy and uncomfortable for me to wear regularly. Id always have issues with the tags- even after i cut them out, it always bothers me.
Shapeshifters have been WAY better. I dont know if it's the materials, the construction, or what but they are wonderful to wear. Ive had the occasional issue with the tag, but its small and pretty ignorable. Plus, I'm about 90% sure you could ask them to just not add it to avoid it entirely. Ive had no issues with scratchiness. Their mesh is breathable, not itchy, and stretchy :D half the time i can completely forget that im even wearing a binder, which says a LOT.
Fit & Bind-
Shapeshifters. Amazing once again. Theyre custom sized to your measurements, which avoids unnecessary tightness in the ribs, gaping at the top, or inconsistent/nonexistent binding. Im a 38DD-40DDD depending on brand, and literally no other binders have had anywhere near this level of bind. Obviously it doesnt get completely flat- but it gets as close as possible. Id say its about the same prominence as laying on your back with no bra- maybe a bit bigger. That being said, thats a HUGE improvement from every other brand ive tried.
Plus, if you have issues with things digging in anywhere or not fitting how you want, they do free alterations. WHICH IS INSANELY HELPFUL BY THE WAY.
Variety-
They have many different patterns and styles and types of binders. It's a lot of different options- undergarments to normal tops, gothic to pastel to flat colors. If youre somewhere hot they have purely mesh binders for extra ventilation, etc.
Plus, if you want a specific pattern you can custom order your own fabric design! Im doing this for my new one and am very excited. (Its the same pattern i have as my banner :>
Customer Service-
Actually wonderful. Eli has been the one talking with me on both of my binders, so i think theyre the main (English) customer service worker! Theyre wonderful and very helpful- straight to the point, speedy, and patient.
I had no clue I needed to upload my pattern to spoonflower and proof it, and they helped me with that even though I could've just. Read the product description 😭
Lots of love to Eli. Also Im so sorry im stupid???? Youre wonderful.
Ease of use-
Im disabled- big shoulder issues. If i angle it the wrong way it dislocates. Bit uncomfy. That being said, most binders are literally painful for me to put on. Especially to take off. It hurts and is a whole mess. However. Shapeshifter's stretchier fabrics make it easier to take on and off. Putting it on is usually completely fine. Taking it off can be an issue. But its way easier than other brands thankfully.
HOWEVER. shapeshifters offers zippers to be built in. Which seems bad because of uneven pressure, but they have stiff inserts in all zipper binders to evenly distribute the bind. When I ordered my 1st binder, i for some reason got the zipper on the side of my bad shoulder?? I usually only use the zipper to take it off, so its fine, but zipping it on is a nightmare. But thats on me because i ordered it stupidly. That being said, zipping it off is actually amazing. If theres any discomfort from the binder, I can just zip it down for a bit. Or i can fully take it off so much easier. 2nd binder from them, i havent ordered the zipper because its not that difficult for me personally to take it off without, but i would recommend it if you need that extra ease!
Durability-
An old binder had tearing stitching after 2 months of semi-regular wear. Bad. My shapeshifter binder ive been wearing up to 5 days a week for up to 8 hours a day. The only signs of wear it has is some deodorant stains. Need I say more. It also hasnt stretched at all- it has the same bind and comfort and fit as it did the day I got it.
CAN YOU SEE WHY I LOVE THESE.
CONS NOW!!
Time
They do take a while to be made and arrive. Because theyre custom made by a small team, it takes a couple months to get one. I ordered one in July and got it in August, for example. I personally do not care about this one because it is such a high quality binder.
Price
Once again, small team making high quality custom products. It gets pricey. My first one was $116 including shipping, taxes, etc. Its important to note that i got a zipper (+$20) and a lot of customization options not everyone will need or want! Once again, i think its worth it as it will probably last me a WHILE. Also they gotta pay their team fairly. WE LOVE PAYING PEOPLE LIVABLE WAGES!
Overall, I do reccomend. In fact I've gotten a friend to get themselves one aswell lmao
Theyre actually an amazing team and i wish them lots of love, appreciation, and success!! Cant wait to get my new binder >:D
#chest binding#trans#transgender#binder#binder review#BUY THEIR STUFF#disabled#disability#disability friendly#MORAL COMPANY???#WOAH????#shapeshifters
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If you are a schizo like me and need to work to make ends meat pick your job wisely. As a schizo that worked I noticed I couldn’t work full time. While I went to college I worked maybe 3 days out the week on the weekends. I had to learn to structure my life with my symptoms. I had sleep issues and because of the antipsychotics I had fluctuations in the time I could fall asleep or I would wake up real late afternoon. I worked at night because these were the hour I had peak energy. I also found out I couldn’t work high pressure jobs like being a line cook. While I worked I did have episodes on the job and I couldn’t be consistent even though I was a hard worker. I found out something, clerical jobs suited me better for some reason. As I got older I had earned enough credits through social security from working that increase my social security benefits and it was best for me to live within my mean off the fix income then all the stressors that I encountered working. One thing I forgot to mention was that I had extreme social anxiety but being in a small town that was highly vested in the tourism industry, service jobs like food and beverage restaurants and hotels were the only options to work. I forced myself every time I entered the employee entrance to swallow my anxious feelings and proceed with the responsibility and duties assigned to me. In retrospect I think it might have conditioned my tolerance level to function with anxiety. I now do things like music and art these things bring me happiness and it’s true if you find something you love doing you won’t have to work a day in your life. Good luck schizos, I say go for it and work and go to higher education because you want to not just because this what others suggest or expect you to do. Protect your sanity and peace always.
Wally aka DEFIANT
#kingofkingsschizo#working while disabled#life experiences#good luck#go for it#mental health#schizophrenia#actually schizophrenic
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Light As A Feather
Summary: After secretly dating for half a year, Toya is finally ready to give all of himself to his more experienced Pro Hero partner. (Another oneshot in my Civilian Social Worker Toya X Pro Hero Hawks AU timeline)
THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! S3XUAL TAGS WILL BE HIDDEN BELOW THE KEEP READING BUTTON!
Non-Spicy Tags: smut, DabiHawks, Civilian Social Worker Toya X Pro Hero Hawks, swearing, making out, fluff, secret relationship, hella intimacy
Word Count: 3,671 words
AO3 link
Spicy tags: k!nkt0ber fic, virgin Dabi, loss of virginity/first time, a n a l s3x, gay s3x, a n a l f!ngering, bottom sub Dabi, soft dom top Hawks, praise k!nk, aftercare, explicit consent, service top Keigo/pillow princess Toya, n!pple play, feathers & featherplay
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Five hundred and eighty days. That’s how long Toya Todoroki had been friends with Keigo Takami. The last two hundred and something of those days, they’d been dating in secret. Finally, Toya’s ready.
Keigo has been overwhelmingly patient, respecting even the most strict of Toya’s boundaries. Keigo had plenty of experience…Toya had next to none…primarily because he refused to allow himself to be vulnerable…but also because he tended to push away any sort of romantic relationship in the past. Keigo was different. Their connection was just…different. Toya couldn’t articulate it properly any other way. He was just simply different. There was no pressure. No unnecessary dramatics. No guilting. Keigo was willing to go at whatever pace Toya felt most comfortable. They didn’t go past making out until three months in, and it was still a lot to get used to. No one had ever touched him in this way before. No one had ever seen Toya in an intimate light before. No one had ever made him feel so fucking alive.
He’d be lying to himself if he said it all came so easy. With his parents’ rocky relationship, Toya never had any real role models in the romance department…or even intimacy and love at the bare minimum. Keigo practically introduced him to another world. A world that Toya thought he’d never be a part of…that he didn’t deserve to be a part of. Before Kei, his life was his work… a social worker at the Musutafu Child Safety Services Agency, getting kids out of situations that they should never find themselves in. Since he couldn’t be a hero, this was the option that made the most sense. Funny enough, now he’s dating the Number Two Pro Hero of Japan…albeit in secret. His whole family, other than his sister, was still unaware that he had a partner; he shivered at how his Dad would react. Thus, Hawks only ever snuck over to Toya’s apartment, managing to outwit the press and the paparazzi. But…for tonight…Hawks invited Toya over to his place. After spending months exploring one another’s bodies, Toya told Hawks he was ready to have sex. Not blowing each other. Not jacking each other off. Sex sex. Or, at least, that’s how he embarrassingly phrased it over the phone to Toya’s own chagrin. Hawks never seemed to acknowledge his awkward way of explaining things. He just simply smiled and nodded without a care in the world.
Part of Toya wonders if this whole thing is a fluke. Some stunt with Endeavor’s eldest rebel who takes Quirk meds so he doesn’t turn himself to ashes in some PR turn. But…if that were true…he wouldn’t have kept Toya’s promise to keep their relationship out of the public eye. It’s been long enough. Toya’s doubtless…and hopelessly down bad. He’d sell his soul for the Pro if he asked at this point…though he knows he’d never put him in that position. They were planning on going public soon. After all, Toya was introducing him to his parents in a week.
Toya stands in front of his steamy bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist and a toothbrush in his mouth, water still dripping from his hair. He’s so nervous that he can’t even tell anymore if he’s shaking or not. The phone call that started all this had been relatively short. It took Toya all week to finally decide he was ready; he’d been on the edge about it, sleeping on it, talking to himself in the mirror to psych himself up for the conversation…and, of course, Keigo brought up a point that he honestly hadn’t considered.
…
Earlier.
“So…uh…I hate to phrase it like this, T…but… how do you wanna do it?”
“What do you mean?”
Awkward silence.
“Kei? You still there?”
“Who is fucking who?” Keigo blurts, and Toya blushes beet red.
“Uh-I-I don’t care really,” He stutters, running all his words together, and he can practically feel Keigo’s eyes narrowing in his tone.
“T…this is your first time. Don’t bullshit me,” Keigo says flatly before sighing, “I just want to make you as comfortable as possible. Personally, I don’t have a preference.”
‘Does that mean he’s done both?’ Toya’s mind wanders for a bit before he vigorously shakes his head. He has a bad habit of comparing himself to Keigo’s past lovers…even though, truthfully, he has no idea who they were.
“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Please, don’t feel pressured, babe. You can always change your mind,” Keigo reassures through the phone. Toya takes a deep breath.
“Could…could I bottom?”
…
The flight to Kyushu by plane was about two hours, but Hawks had apparently pulled some strings, so much so that Toya had a fucking limo pick him up. Toya’s heart is practically beating out of his chest. He’d worn his nicest black button-up that he could find with slacks and the shoes he normally wore to the office, but something in his mind was still nagging. What if he did something wrong? What if Keigo suddenly changed his mind? He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, trying to divert his attention from his anxious thoughts. It’s just sex. It shouldn’t be so complicated. Right?
The car slows to a stop, and Toya’s heart skips a beat. He thanks the driver as he steps out, and, suddenly, he’s face-to-face with Hawks’ impressive Hero Agency. He looks around, his mouth suddenly dry, but little to no one seems to be out this late. Granted, it’s eight o’clock in the evening on a Sunday. Part of him was worried Hawks’ fans would be swarming the front, but there’s only a few people going about their business up and down the sidewalks. Toya runs a hand through his snow-white hair as he steps forward and walks in the front door.
Instantly, the lobby atmosphere changes on a dime. It’s flocking with sidekicks and interns shuffling papers and going over schedules, but, when Toya walks in, the door closing behind him, all eyes are suddenly turned in his direction. Toya blinks, internally panicking.
“Endeavor’s son is the reason for the NDA?” One of the sidekicks whispers within earshot, and a chill runs down Toya’s spine.
‘He had his sidekicks sign an NDA?’
The white-haired man gulps as he walks toward the golden elevator that Kei told him to use, feeling extremely uncomfortable under the starry-eyed stares. He steps into the elevator with legs that feel like jelly before he presses the button for the top floor. The doors close, and faint Taylor Swift plays over the speakers, putting Toya at ease as he shakes his head and laughs to himself.
Ding!
Toya straightens up as the elevator comes to a stop, and the doors open, revealing a small hallway with a simple blue door at the end.
“Okay…okay…I can do this,” Toya mutters under his breath as he strides toward the door. He inhales sharply before raising his fist to knock. Before he can make contact, the door swings open.
“ There’s my handsome boyfriend,” Keigo sings sweetly, cupping Toya’s cheek with his hand and wrapping the other around his waist. Before Toya can blink, Keigo’s sweet lips are pressing against his, and he melts into the familiar embrace. The kiss is innocent but deep and full of passion. It ends almost as quickly as it began. Keigo pulls back, looking his boyfriend up and down with a soft, genuine smile.
“You look nice,” He beams, gesturing to Toya’s outfit. Toya takes in the scene before him. Keigo isn’t dressed up like he is…not by a longshot. He’s wearing gray sweatpants that leave little to the imagination and a black compression T-shirt that shows off every rippling curve of his muscles… so many muscles.
Toya tries to tear his eyes away from his lover’s bulging biceps as he puts his hands on his hips, subtly flexing them, but his attention is brought elsewhere when the scent of cinnamon and roses reaches his nose. Keigo steps to the side, moving his broad crimson wings out of the way and folding them inward. A soft gasp leaves Toya’s lips. His penthouse is incredible. There’s a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling above a glass table with a red velvet couch. The floors are marble, and the walls are painted a very pale sky blue. Several small caramel-colored candles sit on the table, tiny wisps of flame burning brightly and making the sweet scents sift throughout the room. The lights are dimmed, shrouding the darkened penthouse in a soft amber hue mixing with the flamelight. Toya’s heart stutters in his chest when he sees the trail of rose petals behind Keigo, leading down the hallway…most certainly to the Pro Hero’s bedroom.
“Shall we?” Keigo smirks slyly, flashing his brilliant white teeth as he holds his arm out for Toya. Sweat beads on the back of Toya’s neck as he tentatively clutches Keigo’s arm, kicking his shoes off at the door, and the Pro leads him down the hallway.
“So…what…how is this gonna go?” Toya stumbles over his words, his heart pounding so hard against his ribcage that he’s worried it might fracture. Keigo grins, his golden eyes sparkling in the dimmed light as they stop in front of his closed bedroom door.
“However you want it to. I figured we’d just snuggle up and watch that pirate show you won’t stop talking about,” Keigo offers calmly, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek.
“ Our Flag Means Death ? That’s all you wanna do? Watch that?” Toya mutters absentmindedly, staring blankly at his partner. Keigo shrugs as he puts his hand on the doorknob, and Toya blurts:
“Aren’t we fucking tonight?”
Keigo pauses. “Let’s just see where things go. I’ll let you tell me what you’re ready for when you’re ready for it.”
“I thought that’s what my phone call to you was for,” Toya grumbles.
“T…It’s your first time. I don’t see any need to rush into anything. I want this to be good for you, okay?” Keigo sighs as he pushes the door open. Toya’s never seen Keigo’s bedroom. Not in its entirety at least. He’s seen glimpses through the pictures Kei has sent him before, but it’s absolutely incredible. The bed is huge ; probably to accommodate Hawks’ wings when they’re fully spread. It’s at least a California King with a fluffy silver comforter that looks so delicately smooth and soft. The pillows are the same shade as Kei’s feathers, neatly arranged in a U shape angling out from the dark mahogany headboard, almost like a nest. An enormous flat-screen TV hangs on the wall opposite the bed. The room smells just as divine as the rest of the penthouse, and the lighting is soft and romantic. Toya’s palms feel overwhelmingly clammy as he walks past Kei, who closes the door behind them.
…
…
“OH MY GOD!”
“OH MY GOD!”
“THAT WAS SO GOOD!”
“HOW LONG UNTIL THE NEXT EPISODE???”
“Kei, you haven’t even seen season one,” Toya laughs as he closes out of episode three of season two.
“I DON’T CARE! THAT WAS SO GOOD!” Keigo Takami squeals, wings fluttering as he holds his hands against his cheeks. Toya can’t help but feel warmth bloom in his chest when he sees the sparkles in his lover’s eyes. Time seems to slow for a few minutes, and the room is silent save for the sound of their breathing.
“Well…,” Toya mumbles, voice lilting off into a faded whisper as he interlocks his fingers with Hawks’. “What do we do now?”
The Pro Hero’s smile turns from ecstatic to a sly smirk, and he squeezes his partner’s hand. Hawks climbs on top of Toya, looming over him and placing his hands on either side of his head, palms flat against the headboard. Toya feels his heart skip a beat, and then, Kei is kissing him. It’s achingly intentional, their lips fitting together like a perfect puzzle piece. Toya’s eyelids flutter shut, and he feels Keigo’s feathers caress the sides of his face, cupping it the same way his hand would. It tickles slightly, but the soft vanes feel tender and intimate on his skin. Toya hums softly in satisfaction, and he shudders when Keigo’s tongue gently prods against his lip. He opens his mouth enough for Keigo to French kiss him, and a groan rumbles from his throat as their tongues teasingly play with one another. His hands reach up to run through Kei’s blonde locks, combing through the tangles with ease and silently begging for more passion.
“I love you,” Keigo whispers, pulling back just enough to get his words out before sloppily connecting their lips once again in a heated kiss.
“I love you, too,” Toya echoes just as passionately between hasty lip locks. He feels Keigo shifting in the bed, putting his legs on the outside of Toya’s and slightly sitting on Toya’s thighs. A weak moan muffles in Toya’s throat through the intense kisses, and he feels lust stirring deep within. Finally, Hawks pulls back, a string of saliva still linking their lips before he practically pounces, sinking his teeth into the side of Toya’s neck.
“ Fuck ,” Toya gasps, his voice low and raspy as he cranes his neck for Keigo to get a better angle. His breath staggers when he feels Keigo’s hands at his chest, frantically unbuttoning his shirt until he’s fully exposed. Suddenly, warm calloused hands are massaging his pecs, and Toya has to stop himself from moaning like a porn star at the unexpected touch. Keigo sucks on his collarbone, tongue tracing against pale flesh as he firmly rubs slow circles on his lover’s chest. He thumbs at Toya’s nipples, and the white-haired man practically dissolves.
“ Kei ,” Toya moans, flexing into the touch. Keigo’s lips slowly travel down his neck, past his collarbone, between his pecs, and Toya shivers in pleasure. Keigo’s tongue drags across his skin, giving Toya goosebumps. Toya sighs in an uncharacteristically high-pitched whimper as Hawks kisses his body, traveling lower past his ribs and down his stomach. Toya’s uncomfortably hard in his pants now, and his face turns beet red when Keigo shifts so his face is level with his clothed erection.
“Let’s both get comfortable now, shall we?” Keigo quips with a sultry grin, his eyes devilishly glinting as he rolls to the side and starts stripping. Immediately, Toya shrugs off his unbuttoned shirt and starts fumbling with his belt. Within a few moments, they’re both completely naked on Keigo’s bed.
“Where was I?” Keigo hums flirtatiously as he puts his hands on Toya’s knees, spreading his legs as he looms over him. Toya gulps, his eyes glued to Hawks’ golden gaze as the Pro Hero leans down, kissing his waist and traveling closer to the mostly-shaved white happy trail leading to Toya’s stiff, leaking cock. A flurry of red feathers separates from Hawks’ impressive wings, rummaging in the nearby nightstand before zipping back with a bottle of lube. Toya’s cock twitches at the sight.
“We’re gonna go nice and slow…okay? We’ll only do your comfort level. The second and I mean the second you feel too uncomfortable or painful or have any second thoughts, let me know…and I’ll stop everything. We’ll go at your pace, okay?” Keigo mumbles as he tenderly kisses Toya’s tip, making him whimper and nod vigorously as the Pro starts coating his fingers in lube.
“I’m gonna try to work you open more than usual so it won’t hurt as bad. It’s your first time…so it might hurt a bit. Is that okay?”
“Please,” Toya begs, almost embarrassed at the desperation in his words. Delicately, Keigo reaches between Toya’s spread legs, rubbing slow circles against the tight ring of muscle. Toya closes his eyes, groaning as he lets his head fall back into the pillow, focusing on the feeling of his boyfriend’s touch. He gasps, back arching slightly when he feels the first finger slip in.
“Relax, baby,” Keigo croons as he carefully massages his insides, curling his finger just enough for Toya to feel it.
“ Mmmmngh~Kei~ ,” He sighs, breath coming out heated as his heart pounds in his chest. Keigo feels the tissue give, prompting him to slip another finger in. Before long, he has him stretched out to four fingers.
“Ohhh~ Keigo ~,” Touya moans loud and long, eyelids fluttering.
“You alright, T?” Keigo checks in, pupils practically swallowing his irises as he looks up at the dumbstruck look of ecstasy on his lover’s face.
“ Ah~! Ah-eh-ah-ohhh, fuck, ” Toya wails in response, rocking his hips against Keigo’s fingers in an attempt to get even deeper stimulation. Kei’s done this before, but not four fingers. The stretch feels good …even though it probably shouldn’t. There is a dull pain, but there’s so much lube that it’s nothing compared to the pleasure. Toya’s completely lost, especially when Hawks intentionally taps at his prostate every so often.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Just a little while longer…and then I’m gonna fuck you,” Keigo sighs, getting off on seeing his boyfriend a moaning mess…all because of him. His own cock pulses between his legs, but Kei is surprisingly patient…at least when it comes to this.
“Fuck me, Kei… pleeeease, oh , god ,” Toya begs, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he practically drools. Carnal need stirs in Keigo’s gut, and he tenderly slips his fingers out. Toya gasps at the empty feeling, heart stuttering and dropping, but Hawks quickly starts lubing up his cock, ready to fill him up even more. Tears prick at Toya’s eyes as his emotions start going into overdrive; he needs Keigo.
“It’s alright, baby. You just relax,” The Pro says calmly, grunting as he slowly starts pressing into his lover. Toya’s eyes go wide, jaw dropping and hitching on a wordless scream as he’s stretched. Keigo’s a little bigger than what he’s used to…enough for him to really notice. Hawks’ eyes soften, and his breathy sighs are peppered with quiet moans as he pushes all the way inside.
“I’m gonna leave it in for a bit, and you tell me when you’re ready for me to move. Your body’s not used to it yet. I want it to hurt as little as possible,” Keigo murmurs.
“Y-you don’t have to explain everything,” Toya cracks a half-hearted smile as he tries to focus on his own breathing. The pain is more noticeable with this than with his fingers. Minutes feel like hours to Toya, but, eventually, his body gets used to the feeling. He nods, and Keigo begins to rock his hips. The shock of pleasure is like lightning.
“ Fuck , you’re tight,” Keigo mutters harshly under his breath, keeping a steady, deliberate pace. He’s so turned on, he could come at any moment, but he’s trying to get Toya to come first.
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop !” Toya cries out, hands turning to fists in the sheets. Keigo tightly grips Toya’s shoulders, rutting up into his guts in a steady rhythm. One of his longer and more pliable feathers parts from his wings, flexibly wrapping around Toya’s throbbing cock. Toya screams, shocking himself at the intense pleasure surging through his veins as Keigo indirectly jerks him off while fucking every thought out of his head.
“That’s it. That’s my good boy; lemme hear how much you’re enjoying this,” Hawks demands, his voice rough but full of devotion.
“Ohhhh… soooo goooood ,” The white-haired man groans, and Keigo’s feathers stand on end. Every exhale is a horny moan.
“Gonna come soon,” Keigo rasps in warning, and Toya finally lifts his head to lock eyes with Keigo.
“Come inside me- fuck -come inside me, please !” Toya stutters, voice pitching higher and higher and getting louder and louder with every thrust. His words alone are enough to send the Pro over the edge, and he comes with a strangled gasp as he empties into his lover. Frantically, the feather squeezes Toya’s cock in just the right ways, and, within seconds, he’s gushing all over it. Hawks’ name is on his lips as the last of his seed drips onto the feather, which limply releases its grip and flops onto the bed beside them. Without warning, Toya reaches up, wrapping his arms around Keigo’s neck and passionately kissing him, harsh breath hissing out of his nose. Keigo kisses him back, hums of satisfaction rumbling in their throats as they come down from their highs.
“That might’ve been the strongest orgasm you’ve ever given me,” Toya laughs sheepishly as he pulls away, a purely blissed-out expression spreading across his face.
“You’re welcome…now…I’ve gotta pull out. Just breathe,” Keigo hushes, gently cupping the side of Toya’s face in an attempt to keep him grounded. Toya winces at the sensation, and, when they finally separate, it feels like a part of him is missing. A quiet gasp leaves his lips, and more tears prick at his eyes again.
“Shhhh. Shhhh, I’m right here, love,” Keigo hushes, pecking him on the cheek before wrapping him up in his arms and crimson wings.
“It hurts,” Toya whimpers, curling up into the fetal position and twitching at the soreness between his legs.
“I know, baby. It’ll feel better when you’re used to it,” Keigo murmurs reassuringly, squeezing him tightly as he presses loving kisses to his sweaty forehead. “What do you say we get in the shower and then go to bed, hmm?” He offers, and Toya thinks it over before nodding wordlessly.
…
…
“Better?” Hawks chuckles as he holds his boyfriend under clean silk sheets, running his hands through his damp hair.
“Mhm,” Toya mumbles, nuzzling into Kei’s bare chest. “Tired.”
“Your first time was that exhausting?” Kei sneers cheekily, and Toya grumbles something sarcastic under his breath.
“I love you, too,” Hawks snickers as he lets his eyelids flutter shut.
#my hero academia fanfiction#dabi#ao3#dabi x hawks#dabihawks#hotwings#toukei#ao3 writer#keigo takami#fanfic#kinktober 2023#kinktober#smut#dabihawks smut#civilian au#civilian x hero#mha smut#cabi smut#bnha smut#touya todoroki#todoroki touya#takami keigo#hawks smut#civilian dabi#dabihawks fluff#dabihawks fanfic
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Loblaws Boycott. How to get affordable food?
Today is May 1st; which means it is the start of the Loblaws Boycott across Canada. For those unfamiliar with the situation, food prices in Canada have been climbing to astronomical sums. Our main chain Grocery Stores keep increasing prices beyond what is normal inflation. Because they know as Mortals, we need to eat. And the further north you go, the worse it gets. They have already been caught artificially raising Bread prices a few years back, and blaming the price hike on the War in Ukraine. They set a price, We pay for it, and then they keep the price cause clearly people are willing to pay /s
So a boycott has been organized by people of Canada through social media and has even been talked about by TV News Outlets. The idea being to speak with your wallet and pressure change. The problem for many, however, is...Loblaws is just so massive, they don't see other alternatives. They own No Frills, Great Canadian Superstore, Shoppers Drugmart, and a ton more. For many Canadians, it seems like Loblaws is their only option in their area.
So I want to provide a list of some options for people to still get fed. Or even if you don't want to engage in the boycott, you just wanna find affordable food.
Costco and Walmart If a friend of family member has a Costco Membership and is willing to take you with them, do it. The workers there don't police who has the membership, so long as someone has one. You can bulk buy a bunch of staples like Meat, Cheese, Toilet Paper and Coffee for much cheaper in the long run. However, Buying in bulk is not always feasible for everyone. They either don't have the space or they can't afford to drop a few hundred dollars on a single shop. Walmart is a controversial suggestion because they have some....history. And your values may require you to not shop at Walmart. But if you need some accessible groceries for reasonable prices, Walmart actually has a very good selection.
2) International/Local Stores This is not really an option if you live more rural. But if you can find a nearby Asian Grocer or Halal Store you can get a lot of stuff. And not just rice. Legumes, Beans, Meat, Seafood; you'd be surprised how much you can get. You may also find a gem of a bakery or butcher.
3) Farmers Markets It's getting to growing season in Canada. Be Sure to check your near by Farmers Markets. You'll mostly find Fruits and Veggies, but may also be some local honey and eggs if you're lucky. This is also a great option for people who feel eating Organic food is important.
4) Food Waste Apps There is a surprising amount of apps dedicated to preventing food waste by selling you food that is about to be thrown away. The food is still good, and the reason for Discarding varies, but commonly it's because it's approaching it's best before date or Expiration date. Food can still be consumed after it's best before date, so long as it's not spoilt. Different areas will have different Levels of Activity on Different apps. A store needs to opt in before you can buy anything. So check out a few different ones. Flash Foods, Food Hero, and Too Good to Go are popular.
5) Ugly Food Boxes A lot of food gets chucked cause it doesn't conform to our expectation of how that food should look. It grew in a weird way and despite being totally fine to eat; Stores don't want to sell them. So you can get Subscription Boxes of Ugly Produce. Which I think is kinda fun. I remember being younger and my mom pointing out the funny shaped peppers. This isn't entirely a new concept, and many people would of probably heard of Imperfect Foods. However, this is a USA only service; useless to us Canadians. But we can try Odd Bunch or Eat Impact. The bonus with this is it's delivered directly to you. Great for people like myself who can't Drive but love to cook.
6) Meal Kits You see it all the time on Youtube: Try Hello Fresh and get so many meals free, yada yada. Well....it might be worth a try. You can cancel these kits at any time, and them hop back on them later. Like a streaming service. A friend of mine apparently does this. Ordering a box when the value of what they're offering is worth the price to her. Not a great option if you tend to forget to cancel subscriptions *cough* (Hi) but it can be a really smart way to get exactly what you want for a good price. Plus if you use a sponsor code, or a coupon in the mail.... Hello Fresh and Make Good Food are the two more well known meal kits available in Canada.
#Loblaws#Boycott#eat cheap#cheap food#Food and Folklore#budget meals#eating on a Budget#save money#Canada#May
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Overall Rating: ★★☆☆☆
This review is many months overdue, sadly. The topic is pretty heavy for me, and you’ll have to forgive me for how emotionally-charged this review is going to be. I’ll explain why later on.
So, The Wisdom of Mental Illness. I requested it from NetGalley specifically because, as a mentally-ill person, the book’s allegedly about people like me. Of course I’m going to need to read it. So, how does it measure up?
Yikes. There’s some positives here, but precious little. The author does a decent job discussing the (frankly awful) American pharmaceutical industry and how it relates to the usage of psychiatric medication. My perspective? I do agree that many psychiatric medications suck.
While we can do better, I’d expect little else from the corrupt pharmaceutical industry. I’m thankful for Seroquel when I needed it, but am equally grateful I didn’t take it long term. I would hope that the future brings better options for people like me.
While Hughes seems to think the use of medication implies or depends on a biological model for mental illness, I disagree. The drugs are volatile and unpredictable, but many can be useful, regardless of whether they “cure” the illness or not.
I’m open-minded about drug use, even some of those awful laboratory chemicals. I also think the lines between self-exploration, cure, and alleviating symptoms (all three) can blur significantly at times, depending on the substance.
The author discusses what he calls the “pathologization of normal life.” This idea gets tossed around a lot, especially in books like this, and especially in the past few decades. It’s almost entirely a fallacy. It doesn’t really hold water.
True, something like “social anxiety disorder” sounds (to neurotypicals) like a universal experience rather than an actual condition. The truth is that when social anxiety becomes pathological, those suffering often get brushed off, not needlessly pathologized. Even getting other people to acknowledge there’s a problem (and get them on board with your recovery) can be extremely difficult.
Why? It’s primarily because of misinformation like this. If people think psychiatry is “pathologizing” normal experiences, they’re much less likely to take it seriously when a loved one expresses depression, anxiety (or even mania).
Most people with mood and anxiety disorders (like myself) have had the experience of someone saying to us, “everyone gets sad sometimes,” or “<I> get nervous sometimes, too, but I don’t treat it as a disorder,” etc. This response has become so common that we (people with mood and anxiety disorders) often joke about it, and how frustrating it can be.
It is true that, in cases of psychosis or suicide attempts, a person can be (sometimes) forced into treatment, but only if they’re dangerous to themselves or others. You won’t be locked up for normal human behavior that’s been “pathologized.”
As many neurodivergent folks know, even obtaining basic mental health treatment can be difficult if there’s not a perceived crisis point. Here in America, there’s a critical shortage of all mental health professionals - psychiatrists, therapists, social workers, and then some. This is especially true in rural areas, and it can lead to situations where someone (in crisis) waits six months for an appointment with an already overtaxed mental health professional.
With few people able to afford comprehensive (or even basic) mental health services, it’s hard to argue that we’re all at risk of being “pathologized” for our quirks.
Interestingly, it seems there’s not as much discussion of mental illnesses that aren’t either mystical shamanic psychosis or Jungian deep dive depression. Some of the other authors providing accounts have experienced illnesses like anorexia nervosa, but this is framed as resulting from said Jungian depression or societal pressure interfering with shamanic awakenings.
The author claims that there’s an epidemic of “narcissism” and entitlement because of selfies, social media, and participation trophies, though. Those darned millennials, no doubt! Not a particularly original, nuanced, or insightful take. I half-expected him to bring up avocado toast! I guess that particular illness (narcissistic personality disorder is a mental illness, after all!) doesn’t contain Hughes’s preferred brand of wisdom.
Some of the other authors who contributed do mention eating disorders and other experiences. It’s worth noting that some of these people seem to be former clients of Jez Hughes who came to him for “shamanic healing.” Many of them had terrible experiences with psychiatry, and it’s not my place to invalidate the healing they found elsewhere. Still, in a way, these folks are self-selected; you won’t find stories from people like me in here, because that’d torpedo the concept.
In a way, the book is a sales pitch for Hughes’s particular means of coping with mental distress. When Hughes highlights the abuses of modern psychiatry, it’s mostly to set up his “shamanic” alternative in a positive light. He puts a bit of effort into attacking the more biological claims of psychiatry, too. Specifically, the author claims that there’s “no evidence” that mental illness gets passed on in genetics.
Uh. The evidence is actually quite clear that it does have a genetic component.
Some will argue that any evidence of a genetic origin could just as easily point to a traumatic origin for the illness, given that trauma bonds are a thing within families. I do believe there’s an element of that in some cases, but there’s overwhelming evidence of an actual genetic component in many cases.
Hughes, on his website and elsewhere, namedrops the science of “epigenetics” to explain why some people need to come to home for ancestral healing. This isn’t a well-understood field, but it doesn’t undo the evidence we’ve seen of a genetic component.
When every child in a family (including those raised elsewhere) end up experiencing the exact same alternating cycles of depression and elation, you do have to consider the possibility that bipolar disorder could be passed down from family. I’ve definitely seen it in my own family, but the stigma made it hard for people to openly discuss.
In many instances the author describes how psychiatry makes people think they’re broken or inherently devalued due to having a diagnosis. Hughes seems to, in particular, associate this with the chemical imbalance theory of mental illness. And, he’s right - that sometimes happens. The stigma’s real.
He wants to do away with that stigma by reframing mental illness as “shaman sickness.” The problem is that it’s a false (and dangerous) dichotomy. It’s perfectly possible for us to acknowledge we have a diagnosis (chemical-inspired or otherwise) without automatically jumping to the conclusion that it means we’re broken.
We can accept our neurodivergence and love ourselves, even if we’re popping meds rather than living out the New Age movement’s romanticized notion of madness. While it may not be the intention, his approach does contribute to existing stigma.
But, once again, as I’ve said before, this is all just a way to set up psychiatry as the devaluing inquisitor so that Hughes’s “shamanic” alternative seems the only reasonable choice for someone wishing to keep their sense of self intact.
If you’re seeking other (in my opinion, better) books on mental illness, psychiatry, medication, and that sort of thing, I’d say this one pairs well with The Day the Voices Stopped as a counterpoint, and Muses, Madmen and Prophets as a better take on the subject in general.
Before I go, I think it’s wise to just be blunt here. I have a lot of trauma surrounding people trying to convince me my mental illnesses were spiritual in nature and interfering with my treatment because of it.
Several times I ended up in life-threatening situations. If this review is a bit “off,” that’s why. You can say I’m biased, but maybe that’s a good thing. I’ve seen where some of this can lead.
I also suppose there’s a conversation to be had about the definition of “shaman” and just what constitutes a “British shaman” (Hughes’s title of choice) here, but that’d be for other people to discuss. I think it’s not really my conversation to have. If you actually know anything about that, feel free to LMK.
Thanks for reading this book review, and apologies if it came across as emotional!
#witchcraft#magic#mental illness#mental health#neurodivergent#actually mentally ill#occult#ableism#eliza.txt#eliza reads#book review#book#NetGalley
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you're right that I didn't consider outside the US but that doesn't mean you're not a freak for having a "vendetta" against servers. if you hate them so much don't eat out. are they asking you personally for money? I don't think they're entitled for doing their job as expected. you're continuing to talk as if they're below you. you think they're a burden when they're serving your food and daring to talk to you like humans talk to each other? I can tell you personally I've only ever worked front-facing jobs where I have to talk to customers, and whether it's a job where I get tipped or not, I often genuinely enjoy talking to people. it's hard to believe you've worked a shit retail job if you genuinely hate others working shit minimum wage jobs.
"iF yOu hATe sErVers DOnT eAt oUT"
Do you fucking hear yourself? I cannot express just how much I'm rolling my eyes.
I have seen servers throw a fit because people didn't tip them and I had a server come back to the table to to ask why we tipped less than 18% (we had tipped 12%, which is still fucking generous considering we were 3 minimum wage retail workers with very little disposable income! And this person has the gall to shame us for not giving them a bigger tip???!). So yeah, I do find this behavior extremely entitled.
I don't think servers themselves are a burden, but I DO think tipping is an extreme burden on poor people. Especially in a place where servers make the SAME minimum wage as everyone else. And now, more and more places are adding tip options. The barista puts a muffin in a bag and the machine pops up asking for a tip? Say it with me kids, creating a culture where you shame poor people into subsidizing wages of other poor people is a problem.
Literally in the original comment (that apparently you only read half of before getting enraged enough to direct message me?), I even said I tip and I am polite to servers. But apparently not being enthused about chit-chatting with strangers, and disagreeing with the fact that I, a poor person, am pressured into giving them extra money for doing the basic requirements of any service job, is somehow thinking they are below me?
And until I see servers starting a campaign to extend tipping to every single minimum wage service industry I'm going to continue on with my "vendetta" 🙄
#like my God I was obviously joking about the “vendetta”#but I guess I forgot this site is full of children who think ranting online = beating ppl with sticks or something#good lord
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like. idk. im fucking pissed about everywhere not being open anymore. it feels hollow and empty and awful. there are no late-night coffee shops. there are no 24/7 groceries. there are maybe two pharmacies that are open until midnight. pizza shops maybe open until 3 but they’re not like. a place you can sit down in. one restaurant open until 3. cafes? you’re joking. dispensaries? close at 9, closer to 5 if you’re unlucky. liquor stores? it’s only the small private ones that stay open past 9 and even then it’s until 10, and they’re not always quick close and easy to get to. pharmacies again—there are maybe two in the city that are open until 12pm. I tried to go to the grocery to get gravol one night and the store was open til 10 but the pharmacy closed at 8, and when the pharmacy closed, they locked up some of the meds, including gravol, and grocery staff couldn’t access it even on request, so the only options were a 3k walk to the next late-hours pharmacy, or just fucking. suffer. until 9am.
and i really really hate the arguments constantly made of “workers don’t want to work those dead hours!!! they don’t want to be there overnight!” because like i have absolutely zero doubt that that is true for a lot of workers. but most bars close at 10 on weekdays and don’t go later than midnight even on weekends. coffee shops close at 9 at the absolute latest. there are no public spaces and places. it’s canada, it’s fucking cold, no one’s out sitting and enjoying an evening in the park. it’s all just funnelling people back to their homes.
i am not asking for everywhere to be open late or 24/7. workers deserve a life.
but people should not be punished for operating on different time schedules, and having at least some options would be lovely.
(also—i would drasticallly rather work night shifts than days a lot of the time. i know a lot of similar people.)
let alone—shift workers have zero options, frankly even 9-5ers don’t always have options because like. the banks close at 4 or 5 every day and I can only think of one branch that does the traditional “open late on Thursdays”.
i hadn’t really thought about it before but punitive really is the right word for how it feels. if you’re awake at night for any reason, it just. sucks to be you, don’t do that again. you are tacitly pressured into either following the good old daytime schedule “like everyone else” or essentially prevented from being social and visible. or even accessing necessary services. like. having to be awake early in the day genuinely makes my mental health worse. but on the other hand, if i’m not awake before 2pm, i have a grand total of 3 hours in which to get any/all/most of my business done. it’s horrible. i hate it i hate it i hate it and i’m mad.
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Me and my flatmate are LGBT people with chronic illness, and adorable pet cats. Because of our mental disorders and physical illness we have both been unable to work as much over the past couple months. This timing couldn't be worse as our landlords are increasing our rent by $300 NZD a month at the start of next year (up to $3,000 NZD total)
Although we are both hard workers with good jobs, this increase is too much for us to afford with the cost of living crisis and with the new conservative government coming in, it will only get worse. We are already living paycheck to paycheck and barely scraping by. Due to this, we will be rushed to move out and find a new home within our budget. With minimal savings, we will use any funds donated on bond/rent in advance (est. $2,700), moving costs (est. $500 but hopefully less if we can move close by.)
There is absolutely no pressure to donate anything, your thoughts and prayers during this tough time is enough if you cannot give. These are rough times for everyone, and we are all struggling, but it's important to stick together and persist against all odds.
As we live in Aotearoa (New Zealand) we can't use Go Fund Me so I have two other options:
Buy me a coffee @ ourdreamsareneon
PayPal: [email protected]
I don't have much to offer in return other than undying gratitude, but maybe my 10+ years of service to the niché fandoms on Tumblr can prove my worth lol
Thank you <3
#financial help#gofundme#go fund me#financial support#help#help request#donate#donations#lgbt#financial aid#please signal boost
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Here’s A Tip
It’s a distinctly American thing. It drives many Europeans nuts when they visit us, because they seldom if ever do it at home. And just the opposite occurs when we visit Europe, when we feel like we ought to do it, only to find out we don’t need to, and no one expects it anyway.
It’s called tipping, and we do it in some instances—like at full-service restaurants where the minimum wage is a resoundingly pathetic $2.13 per hour— to others like the hair stylist, valet, housekeeping, and others performing tasks for us, even though they are on regular wages. And what about the musician at your favorite bar whose music you enjoyed while quaffing your beverage?
But tipping culture has changed in recent years, thanks in large part to COVID, when we were explicitly encouraged to lend a hand to others less well-off than we. And now that a majority of places have user-facing payments capabilities, it is oh so easy easy for the shop to add another line to the transaction: Would you like to leave a tip?
Been to Starbucks lately? Now you can leave the barista a tip for performing his or her job. But it goes far beyond Starbucks, though. It is pervasive to the point of being annoying. While cities and states vary considerably regarding local minimum wages (which are above and beyond the federally-mandated $7.25 per hour), and with inflation still taking a bite out of our pocketbook, tips are seen as a way for consumers to voluntarily offset some of these pressures.
I get it.
Few people want to work minimum wage jobs. That helps explain the dearth of willing employees filling what we consider low- or non-skilled jobs. And I agree with everyone that being stuck in a minimum wage job sucks. I can’t even.
If we are to agree that the burden is upon each individual to gain marketable job skills, we can at least momentarily beg off on the tipping proposition. But gaining skills takes time, and while the long-run is easy to pontificate about, we must still live in the short-run.
Given that we know sales tend to be higher when people use plastic, it makes some sense to put the tipping option out there, if only because it is frictionless. Just add $2 to that cup of coffee. No big deal, because you did not have to dig into your wallet or purse.
I admit. I have never created gooey, sticky sweet concoctions like Starbucks baristas do. I am that guy who takes his coffee black, and his bagel toasted. It’s not that hard. On the other hand, having mastered lofty statistical and research methods earlier in life, I’m pretty sure I could learn how to do anything in the front-of-store in about—oh, I dunno—a couple of hours. Should I be tipped for knowing how to make someone’s self-indulgent venti of hedonism when it is just part of the job?
At the risk of sounding cheap and selfish, I must intervene and say I tip nonetheless for my basic coffee and bagel. Maybe it is because I feel fortunate. Maybe because I feel sympathy. But I certainly don’t feel guilt.
I’m OK with the new tipping culture, even though I think it is being abused in some places. If someone does something specifically for me, then I am happy to tip without hesitation. And in restaurants, where I consider the waitstaff to technically be in my temporary employ during my repast, I gladly leave 20-25%, depending on how well they attend to my wants and needs.
I don’t want to venture into the murky waters of so-called “living wages,” because that varies considerably by location. If tipping helps keep us out of more federal, state, or local wage mandates, then maybe tipping is a good thing.
But at the same time, I understand how all this tipping at the bottom end of the wage spectrum can cheapen things for others. Should we likewise tip everyone with whom we interact transactionally? You know, the Home Depot worker who answered your question, the sales associate at Dillards, the guy who installed your new tires? It can begin to trivialize the whole process, especially when the workers are simply doing their job. Like your professors.
I’ll just leave this here.
Dr “Maybe I Should Put A Tip Jar On The Podium“ Gerlich (Just Kidding)
Audio Blog
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How to Unlock an iPhone Without the Passcode? - ITMlab
For more visit: How to Unlock an iPhone Without the Passcode? - ITMlab
If you’ve forgotten your iPhone’s passcode, you’ll need to find another way to unlock it. There are two ways to do this: resetting or unfreezing the device. You can only use these methods if you know the last date and time that someone used the phone last, but it’s worth noting that it doesn’t matter whether or not they’re still using it today. In this article we’ll show you how to unlock an iPhone without a passcode using both methods so let’s get started!
How to Unfreeze an iPhone
If your iPhone has a passcode, you can use it to unfreeze the device.
In Settings, tap Passcode (or Touch ID & Passcode on an iPhone X or later).
Enter your passcode and tap Turn Off Screen Lock or Change Passcode if prompted to do so by entering an old one that’s no longer valid and then creating a new one for future use when prompted again by iOS 11+ devices or earlier versions of iOS 10 – 12+.
Once the screen is unlocked after entering your security code correctly, go back into Settings and navigate down until you find General > Reset > Erase All Content & Settings; then tap Reset All Settings near the bottom right corner of this page next time you need help with any kind of problem related specifically towards these two different types as well as other common ones involving battery life issues etc., which are often caused by third party apps installed on top of stock apps preinstalled within Windows Phone 8 OS software packages themselves rather than being caused by hardware itself failing due entirely instead due partially maybe even slightly due mostly perhaps entirely too much stress placed upon physical components inside those phones’ casing which causes them eventually break down over time leading up until eventually breaking down completely leaving nothing left behind except maybe some dust particles floating around inside air pockets created under pressure between different parts connected together tightly enough together tightly enough so not too many particles escape through cracks created during production process at factory level back when manufacturing line workers were still working hard trying hard laboriously day after day night after night
How to Unlock a Locked iPhone Without the Passcode
If you’re locked out of your iPhone and don’t know the passcode, there are a few ways to unlock it.
Use the emergency call option: If you can’t use Touch ID or Face ID because of an injury or other reason, go to Settings > Emergency SOS and tap “Call.” You’ll be able to make an emergency phone call without unlocking your device.
Connect the phone to a computer: If you have access to a computer, connect it through iTunes or iCloud (depending on which service was used when setting up the passcode). In both cases, this will allow iTunes/iCloud Backup & Restore options that will let you restore from a backup without entering any passwords or passcodes at all!
How to Reset the Passcode on an iPhone 7 or Older
If you have an iPhone 7 or older, resetting your passcode is a little different than unlocking it.
First, turn off Find My iPhone in iCloud settings. Launch Settings on your device and select General > Reset. Scroll down and select Erase All Content and Settings, then tap Erase iPhone (or whatever name pops up).
Resetting the passcode on a newer iPhone is slightly different. First, turn off Find My iPhone in iCloud settings. This will prevent the phone from being locked if it’s lost or stolen in the future. Then, launch Settings on your device and select General > Reset. Scroll down and select Erase All Content and Settings, then tap Erase iPhone. Wait for your device to reset itself and then set it up as a new device from scratch using its default settings.
If you’re trying to unlock an iPhone without the passcode, here’s how:
Resetting the passcode on a newer iPhone is slightly different. First, turn off Find My iPhone in iCloud settings. This will prevent the phone from being locked if it’s lost or stolen in the future. Then, launch Settings on your device and select General > Reset. Scroll down and select Erase All Content and Settings, then tap Erase iPhone (or Erase All). Wait for your device to reset itself and then set it up as a new device from scratch using its default settings.
You can use one of these methods to unlock your phone without the passcode
There are two ways to unlock an iPhone without a passcode. If your phone is not protected by a passcode, then there’s nothing stopping you from simply pressing the home button and seeing if it unlocks. If it does, then great! You don’t have to worry about anything else right now.
If your iPhone is protected by a passcode but you forgot what it was set up as (or if someone changed it), then there are still options available for unlocking it without entering that code.
If you’re looking for a way to unlock your iPhone without using its passcode, then this article is for you. We’ve discussed all of the different options available to you and explained how they work in detail. Hopefully, one of them will work for your situation!
Outline of the Article:
I. Introduction
Importance of iPhone security and the significance of unlocking methods
Brief overview of the methods covered in the article
II. Using Face ID to Unlock iPhone
Explanation of Face ID technology and its setup process
Step-by-step guide on unlocking iPhone using Face ID
III. Unlocking iPhone with Touch ID
Introduction to Touch ID and its fingerprint recognition system
Instructions on setting up and using Touch ID for unlocking
IV. Using Siri to Bypass Passcode
Cautionary note about the risks associated with Siri bypass
Steps to attempt unlocking iPhone using Siri (if applicable)
V. Using iCloud to Remove Passcode
Guide on using iCloud’s Find My iPhone feature to erase the passcode
Detailed steps for remotely unlocking the iPhone through iCloud
VI. Contacting Apple Support
Importance of reaching out to Apple Support for professional assistance
Information on Apple’s verification and security procedures
VII. Conclusion
Summary of the methods discussed and their implications
Emphasis on the importance of iPhone security and responsible unlocking practices
For more visit: How to Unlock an iPhone Without the Passcode? - ITMlab
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Canadian here, dating an American, lots of cross-border travel for both of us in the past year -- there are other factors at work here.
▪︎America values individualism on a level I've never seen before and this extends to their state governments specifically, and thus to how each state makes laws and practices for businesses within it. This means you get a distinct lack of national cohesiveness on a business level -- many smaller banks, using different types of technology, upgrading at differing rates, only really competing with other banks in that state or even town?? I think you guys must have different laws surrounding monopolies, too. My gf swears that when she moved away to college, it was really rare for people to bank with the same bank since everyone was with a bank from their hometown. In Canada, there are like. Five or six big banks that everyone uses, generally? And they're all so tightly in competition with each other that they all adapt and use the same tech within the same time frame... and thus have an incentive to make it all compatible with the same technology they are pushing businesses to buy.
▪︎America doesn't really tap. Americans also like... still use a lot of cash. It's apparently not uncommon for people to not trust cards? For whatever reason, saving money or that social 'split' in how people want to pay or different banks rolling out different tech at different times, businesses are only just now rolling out machines that let you tap your card and be on your way. They also RARELY spring for the machines that rest on a charging dock and then can be taken to any table. They still take your credit card away when you eat at a restaurant and pay; they still, even if their machine DOES accept tap, have you add the tip AFTERWARDS with a signature, and often require manual calculation. In Canada, when you ask for the bill, the machine is brought to your table with the bill, because most people will use it to pay. Sometimes the waiter will ask if you need it when you ask for the bill, but most of the time now it's become an automatic thing. The waiter puts in your total and hands you the machine. You press the buttons confirming your total, if you want to tip or not, how much (% or manual amount, often with a few preset percentage options at the top) and then your new total is shown for you to confirm. The machine asks for your card, you tap it against a sensor, and it beeps. You've paid. This works for debit and credit cards, provided you have enabled that on your card, and most of these steps are particular to restaurants with tips -- if you are buying something for a store, for example, the machine will just show your total and ask you to tap against the sensor.
▪︎The push to go 'contactless' was big during the pandemic, in Canada, for germ transmission reasons! Many businesses that were lingering behind in adopting tap technology did it then for health reasons and also because everyone else was doing it, and they wouldn't have survived not keeping up with the market. In fact, during the height of the pandemic, many businesses became tap *only*. Now, to be clear, very few countries handled the pandemic well, and I'm not sure I count my own among them, but what I *will* say is that America had a very vocal and global-news-worthy minority refusing to conform to safety standards, and the movement gained more traction much earlier on than similar movements in other countries, including Canada. I bring this up only because that is a lot of social pressure and bargaining power a smaller and less vocal minority does not have -- my hypothesis is that this visible social split meant that there was less pressure on american banks and businesses (already incredibly variable by state) to conform to one singular contactless payment method, vs. the social pressure to offer one on other countries.
▪︎Candidly I think tapping your card every time for more than two drinks is a little annoying for the service worker, since they have to grab the machine for you every time in between making your drink and serving other customers. In my experience, if you start a tab in Canada, they're basically just taking your card and holding it behind the bar so that they can ensure you pay at the end of the night, whereupon when you ask to settle up, they bring you both your card and the machine, and everything proceeds in front of you as it would at a restaurant. Like having your coat in coat check, or your bag in bag check! This also really only applies to bars without seating areas, in my limited experience? If you have a table, most places I've gone for drinks just bring the bill at the end like any other restaurant.
Right Americans, I need an explanation. What on Earth are these kids doing wrong? Surely this is normal?
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i read your post about working girls (very interesting stuff btw!! 💗) and i was curious about a particular line that maybe you could help shine some light on?
the one about oral sex being unheard of.. does that refer to specifically WG’s, or to sex in general? i assume the former? and so, how shocked would men, generally the ones in camp, be if their lover got down on their knees for them? (this totally isn’t for a fic or anything lmao)
Thank you so much for the ask! I love writing history requests because i love helping people and talking about sex history and stuff? I wish I got more of them, but doubly awesome. My forte. First and foremost, if this is for a fanfiction, you as the writer have the power to write whatever you want historically accurate or not. Never feel pressured to. I am ALWAYS happy to help with history, but again - never feel like you’re doing something “wrong” by writing a certain way. TLDR: If you were a U.S. sex worker, it would ruin your life. For someone in the gang - historically speaking only - it is something they would know about because a lot of them are around sex workers, but would know its controversy or feel it would be very taboo. If the sex workers’ lives were ruined by it, then the average person would have potentially been skittish too, but that would also depend on experience / personal beliefs' think there’s a difference between the mental aspect and then the physical act because physically - they may have other ideas but they may feel very dirty or secretly love it. That’s why I can’t generalize and that’s why headcanon works, too. But historically for Americans who weren’t a certain type of upperclass - a hit or miss thing too - then no very very very unlikely and stigmatized. Actual history bit: As far as working girls, no. That would be very frowned upon and she would be shunned. I know, you'd be thinking "How would they know that?" Well, word travels fast - the sex workers knew everything about each other and it was a very cut throat business. The girls had no problem selling each other out if it meant getting ahead. HOWEVER, there were cases of a sisterhood - but sometimes, that was survival and sometimes that was a coping mechanism/true friendship. There isn’t privacy really, either. But yes, no madam or saloon in town would hire someone like that. The crib brothels (The lowest form of sex worker who was allowed to work indoors) would even kick her out because the madams are the ones they pay rent to. I truly mean everyone would shun them. Your only option was to leave town. I am not joking. If you were able to stay in town, you would then be reduced to being a "carpet" girl which is a girl who carried around a carpet and....conducted her service right there and then....before finding another person on the street and putting the carpet down and doing the same. It is a heartbreaking life. That is the closest to what Edith would be kind of - she was crib girl who was potentially on the pathway to becoming a carpet girl. Carpet girls didn’t have to become carpet girls because of oral sex controversies. It also included those based on older age- scary enough mid 20′s could make you too old depending on the place’s politics- and struggling if you catch my drift. So, I also study the history of sexuality. Oral sex was all the rage in Europe - but it could also vary from location and from class to class. However, depending on who you spoke to, Europeans were like how Charles Chaterney is depicted. Some had romantic ideas of these Europeans, others had negative views. European sex depending on where was very different from the more "prudish" American sex ideas - but that does not mean everyone was a "prude". They were some extremely kinky Victorians lol There is a lot of 9th century po*nography out there - but it’s all upper class people as in the richest in society. The scandal must have been fun to them in some ways. Like, only the way rich people would think so? Like it’s either going to cause a “fun’ scandal” or that could backfire. Overall, their privilege protected them.
As for the gang members, I have no doubt they’ve heard of it, but I think you’d have to base it on the character’s personality. Overall, I do not think the idea would cross their mind or it would be a more positive connotation. Now one on one time, experimentation, long discussions and personality/philosophy might reveal something else. Additionally, their cultural and or religious and racial backkgrounds would also play a factor. At the end of the day, this is your fanfic and you write it however it should be written!
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