#gender based asylum

[sl4sh3rsub]

rz michael myers hcs (nsfw: mdni)

rz michael myers x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: a lot here. mikey has a monster cock, insecure + inexperienced michael, he doesn't talk but makes noise + mouths words + grunts syllables sometimes (selectively mute ig?), oral sex (both giving and receiving), excessive creampies, fingering (receiving), no lube we die like men his dick n spit does it for him, masturbation, rimming (both giving and receiving), knife kink, excessive mentions of precum + spit + cum, creative use of cum/arousal fluids in arts projects, musk kink, choking (receiving), mentions of sex toys, thigh humping, mention of canon SA and violence (nothing w/ or directly involving reader), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), cum eating, slight somnophilia, bruises and hickeys, cockwarming, slight worship (receiving), dry humping, handjobs, 2 mentions of him having a mini shrine to you, mentions of needle hrt in ftm + mtf bits (feel free to ignore), mentions of the institute/asylum

a/n: sorta edited. tried not to be too ooc, but it's more focused on a softer side of michael - personally i think his character is very different to og/peepaw myers! rz mikey is more based in instinct rather than previous experiences/societal expectations, so there's more general hcs than separate sections this time. NOTE: feel free to read any sections, tried my best to not use gendered terms in agab sections but lmk how i can improve :3

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

as michael is very inexperienced with kissing, he'll smash his lips against yours and become a huffing mess after he gets worked up from your breath mingling with his and your darkening gazes meeting

if you play with his hair and gaze into his eyes, he can't help it if he gets half-hard - his body will always needily react to your attention and affection

he's most at home in grey sweatpants - he's very used to wearing them while making his masks and associates them with comfort and the years of creatively honing his craft

so naturally, don't be surprised when his already impressive girth pulses and thickens at the sight of you bending over or reaching something off a high shelf

mikey will absolutely make you your own special mask!! although, the glue he uses for your personal paper mâché mix is a bit more,, personal. he'll also use your arousal to paint the inner layer of his favourite mask :( he simply needs to have some semblance of you with him at all times, especially whenever he's out on the town and away from your embrace

he's borderline hypersexual and gets half-hard and extremely sensitive without reason, however he doesn't always feel the need to act on his urges with you. expect him hiding his arousal during mundane activities, getting flushed and shy when he realises that you notice :<

if he's comfortable on the couch, he'll make himself at home with a horrendous manspread. naturally, this leads to him getting flustered whenever you kneel in between his legs with a mischievous glint in your eye. if you ask him sweetly, he'll be more than happy to sit you in between his strong thighs and let you hump into his hand while you both watch a movie

if he's not feeling like he wants to be inside you, he'll lie on his back with his knees up, pulling you to straddle his waist and lean back against his thighs. from this angle, he's able to watch you play with yourself and masturbate above him while feeling your weight grounding him, just out of reach but almost close enough to taste

he loves taking you from behind and kissing the base of your neck, your breathless giggles echoing in his ears as his long hair tickles your shoulders and back

michael loves having you cockwarm him while he makes his masks!! he adores it when you doze off with your cheek smushed into his shoulder during a late night arts-and-crafts session, the slow pulse of his heartbeat deep inside you

he's so, so incredibly thankful for you, that he's able to unleash his frustrations into you, whether it be about a ripped mask or just about pentup emotions. he's eternally thankful for your love and under the table support

you are mikey's angel, his true saving grace. after his long bout at the institute, he was fully convinced that being loved by anyone was impossible for him. your welcoming arms and gentle praise proved him wrong and completely changed his image of heaven - to michael, it's no longer a cloudy sky mentioned in those old books, it's your warm embrace and loving gaze. it just took him a little while to realise that he was in his own little paradise with you

he tries his hardest to treat you with absolute reverence and adoration T-T he's devoted to making you feel good with him, no matter what. usually, this means holding back from skullfucking you at a brutal pace whenever you give him head. your throat is just so tight around him :( it's got him steadying himself against a wall with his hand, shaking and sweating from holding back, with his gorgeous, garbled moans encouraging you to swallow the saltiness of his length

mikey's wandering hands always end up on your ass or tummy whenever you cuddle together, it's just comforting for him

he's one of the strongest, largest men to ever walk the earth, but the way he gently traces your facial features makes you forget that completely. michael handles you like you're made of porcelain, only using soft pressure unless you assure him he won't break you easily

he has a big, strong and beefy body. lord knows how he maintained it in the institute but with you, he's gonna try his damnedest to put all of his strength to good use - whether it be getting you off while fingering you, his toned forearms barely breaking a sweat or his tree trunk thighs tensing while you ride them

mikey is not trimmed or well-groomed downstairs, his pubes are a wild and unkempt cloud of blonde and light grey hair, so you know he's not caring about how you look at all. you're a fuckin deity in his eyes and he'll dispose of anyone who makes you feel anything other than heavenly

michael is uncut, big and thick, with a large vein running up the underside - so heavy and large that it can't even stand up against his belly, instead slightly bobbing with his pulse and hanging low. it's the type you see in lewd magazines, where it tilts down even when fully hard

when you're on your knees for him, expect his weepy cockhead to drip onto your face while you kiss and nip at his heavy, full balls

oh yeah, this man has the definition of breeder balls; hanging low, swollen and filled to the brim with his potent cum. he truly has so much to give, so you'd better be ready for multiple loads throughout the night

in contrast to michael's hard cock, his nipples are soft and incredibly sensitive. if he's trying to cum as fast as possible, he'll sneak a hand up his shirt and pinch at them relentlessly - make sure they're puffy and spit-glazed after you've been ontop, he goes absolutely feral would really appreciate it

mikey has massive hands too - his fingers are enough to fill you considerably, but he often resorts to stuffing your mouth with them or using his palm to muffle your noises if you're being vocal. he definitely doesn't want the cops called on you just because he's great at pleasuring you

his cock feels heavy inside you, almost like he's deep in your chest whenever he bottoms out. the weight is absolutely dizzying as it stretches you out each thrust and rubs all of the right places. he easily gets drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, leading to his head being tossed back with drool dribbling down his chin at the sensation

he has the biggest size kink possible but he really doesn't want to get carried away when exerting his strength and size on you - he doesn't want to get carried away or hurt you too badly :(

michael uses whatever knife he can get his hands on during foreplay to add a bit of risk and edge. cutting off your underwear and shirt, tracing down thighs and hips and gently nicking your skin every once in a while, but he quickly tosses it if you beg him to fuck you desperately enough - he doesn't wanna hurt you that bad, not before he's even gotten started

mikey is incredibly insecure about himself and his own worth as a person. he fears your love is only temporary and that you'll move on, leaving him behind as a memory or an adrenaline rush of foolish regret :( for that reason, he's terrified to go too hard or hurt you badly - he's convinced you'll be in pain and be fearful of him if he fucks up. be sure to reassure him when you're together after you have a rougher time and he's manhandling you more <3

initially when he learnt about dry humping, he was confused as to why he craved the friction so desperately but he's learnt to give in - michael will almost immediately cum in his pants if you quietly reassure him you'll clean up the mess you're both bound to leave on his clothes. half the fun (in his eyes, at least) is seeing you get flustered over the sheer amount of his load that's seeping into his boxers from just that little bit of friction

his favourite place to have you is on his lap - cockwarming, cuddling or napping, he does not care. he needs to have your face pressed into his neck with his larger frame providing you with warmth and stability

will rarely fist his cock but if you ever catch him, you might be able to make out his lips repeating the shape of your name over and over

for a long while at the start of your.. arrangement, he had no idea how to initiate sex. he'd just hover close to you, desperately hoping you'd notice the heat radiating from his massive, obvious bulge. would start to bite the inside of his cheek and guide your body towards him in a desperate hint if you didn't clock it immediately

he also did not know shit about the human anatomy, so he'll need you to guide him to where you want to be touched and with a bit of coaching, he'll learn the correct pressure and pace to get you off easily

if you tease him while he's in his overalls, the sight of his lower region slowly darkening with his endless pre and the sound of his haggard breathing devolving into animalistic grunts is nearly enough to make your knees give out

michael isn't a massive fan of fucking you on your bed, especially if your room is in a similar layout to his back at the institute. haunting memories brought on by the guards cast negative clouds across his mind and that is the last thing he wants with you. he'd much prefer to go at it against a wall, the couch or even the floor. most of the time, around his desk is where the action happens and your bed is solely reserved for sleep <3

he loves smearing his precum all over your face, loves letting his musk seep into your skin while your eyes glaze over with lust

he cups your chin, cheek and jaw whenever you have his full attention and his heart melts when you nuzzle into him - his thumb plays with your bottom lip and if you decide to suck on it to keep your mouth occupied, so expect to have mikey silently begging you to cockwarm him while his brain goes fuzzy

while you relax for the evening, watching a movie together, expect him to position you with your head on his thigh (your face way to close to his crotch ofc)

michael loves you sucking on his soft cock and warming him with your mouth, he adores the slow feeling of him growing hard as you moan and gag around his length

when you introduce him to the concept of the sixty-nine position, he absolutely short-circuits. what do you mean you can both suffocate in each other's musk while getting each other off?? what do you mean he can prop himself up above you so he can spend time teasing you while forcing you to choke on his length???

michael always cums a bit too quickly and a bit too much - the moment he enters you for the first time, he can't help but fill you up immediately (good thing he's blessed with inhuman stamina)

he's also the biggest fan of you offering to clean up the mess of his cum dripping down his shaft - if your ass is a bit tender and sore from his rough pace, he's more than happy to soften in your mouth while the two of you catch your breath and wind down

mikey isn't very confident with toys and would much rather pleasure you by himself, but he wouldn't mind learning slowly what you prefer over time

he's also not a fan of lube - it feels too cold on his skin and the slippery nature of it scares him a little, so the best way to get him all coated in pre (for your comfort ofc) is to rim him. his tip drools and spits out so much of his arousal whenever you fuck him with your tongue, rest assured it'll bubble down his shaft and drip onto your chest. the delicious flush of his neck and upper chest is a glorious sight to behold

he first feels the urge to make love to you slowly after he sees a steamy, romantic sex scene with a married couple on television - he wants to give you the warmth and care the actors portray on screen

when you first offered to give him head, he tentatively slapped his cock against your tongue to test waters and see if you liked the taste but ended up addicted to the feeling. he'll smack it against your lips and tongue every time you're on your knees for him

his heavy balls slapping against your chin while he floods your mouth with salty, thick warmth is one of his favourite sounds

he starts breathily whimpering in his gravelly voice whenever he fully bottoms out in your heat, one of the rare moments when he totally loses control over his lust for you

he grunts out the syllables of your name when he's about to cum, digging his fingers into your hips and nipping your neck, leaving deep marks on your skin

mikey gets the same rush whenever you both cum together as to when he stabs someone and kills them after a long game of cat and mouse - there's a reason why the french call it 'petit mortis', a little death

the first time the two of you had sex, it brought out such intense emotions from michael that he was left shaken, crying from confusion about the onslaught of feelings he just shared with you. he is originally torn between holding you close and never letting you go as well as instantly leaving and isolating himself in his own space - like he's used to. he needs time to fully mull over the situation and new sensations he experienced but he would really like to have you nearby incase he needs a hug :(

on a long day, after you've given him head, he'll softly catch his breath while watching you blissfully hum and rest your cheek against his thigh. he huffs a small chuckle as you press light kisses into his softening cock

myers really doesn't want to hurt your ass or bruise your upper thighs too much as he needs to have you perched on his lap whenever he can, but you can expect tender skin from his hips slapping into you as well as bruises from his grip on your waist and hips

if he was too rough with you the night before (maybe accidentally leaving bone-deep bruises or purple marks and scratches along your body), he'll disappear early next morning and return during breakfast with a fistful of fresh tulips as an apology, with their stems partially crushed. just be sure to rinse off the dirt still attached to the roots, it's the thought that counts :<

michael may be inexperienced and bashful but he'll try anything once if it gets you off and brings you pleasure

michael loves to place his hand around your throat, just as a reminder of his sheer strength and power over you. with the slightest amount of pressure, he could make your brain go dumb and your tongue loll out

he chokes you until your eyes become unfocused, your little gasps and whines becoming softer and softer. the proud glint in michael's eyes is deserved, as you fully trusted him with your life while you were in your most vulnerable position. he holds you close while you unsteadily catch your breath, mumbling about how good you are to him and stroking your hair all the while

if you're too shy to look up at him while he fucks you or gives you head, he'll tilt your chin up and groan when your cheeks flush at his blown out pupils

he's the type to not pull out after, needing to soften and catch his breath while still feeling connected, inadvertently overstimulating you without fail as his whole body is racked with aftershocks

if he's feeling mean, michael will make you hump his thigh while he palms at his dick during one of his arts and crafts sessions

he wipes the last dribbles of his cum on your inner thighs after he pulls out. he'll clean it either way - with a damp towel or his tongue, it's up to you <3

occasionally after a spree, he'll need to let his mind rest and will use you as his cute little fleshlight, burying himself deep inside you while guiding your hips along with his rhythm at a bruising pace. if you pay close attention, you'll see his lips forming silent prayers and whispers of apology whenever you yelp from the pace

his post-kill musk is potent enough to make your head spin. if you rest your cheek against his pectoral, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat start to slow against you :<

his guilty pleasure is pulling out while cumming thick spurts, slapping his tip across your skin while smearing his load all over you, be it your lips and cheeks or ass and thighs

michael doesn't want to disturb your sleep if he's needy, so he'll slip your hand in between his boxers and pajama pants to feel your smaller hand against his throbbing bulge. he's content to doze like that but expect to feel him humping into your fist while he sleeps. you may wake to the sound of sheets rustling as he licks up the mess he made, much too tired to change sheets but not wanting it to dry and soil your sheets

he insists on placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck whenever he takes you from behind - to stop you from fucking yourself back on his cock and squirming at his pace

after sex with mikey, it's a common occurrence for you both to be a panting mess on the floor when he's done, your throat sore from mindless babbling and loud moans - all complete with a wet, drool-covered spot on your shirt from his grunts through gritted, gnashed teeth. when he's floated back into the right headspace, he's absolutely mortified by his behaviour and is tentative to even glance at you in a less than innocent way for the next couple hours

if your soft body goes limp in his arms after a mind-blowing orgasm, he gets scared at first and stops his thrusts. he's worrying he hurt you but, once he realises you're alright, he'll support your head and neck and go completely feral, thrusting and grinding until he reaches his high as well

whenever you fall asleep ontop of him, he needs to have your face tucked into the crook of his neck - the scent of your hair and sex in the air lulls him to sleep quicker than any sedative could

he adores your attention while you both bask in your respective afterglows - your hands gently cradling his face while he tucks himself away is one of his favourite, most soothing actions of yours. he'll always rub circles into your skin in return

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

michael is inexperienced and completely driven by instinct when it comes to giving head - he wouldn't be deep-throating, instead focusing on your tip and licking along your veins. he's a master of giving handjobs, with the amount of spit he shamelessly coats you with (not to mention his rougher hands)

if he's particularly needy, he'll come up behind you and gently undo your belt while tracing his fingers over your zipper, nosing at your jaw and softly rutting into your ass while panting above you

the moment your fly is undone, his breathing gets ragged and drool nearly starts dripping down his chin

cages you against a bench or wall to rut against your ass and breathe in your scent after a long day at work

if you introduce him to rimming,, lord save your soul. his scruff rubs your ass raw with how often he goes to town on your tight, puckered hole. his favourite bit is pulling back and admiring how you glint in the light with his spit shining all over

of course, the extra spit only helps his efforts of bullying his throbbing cock into your poor hole

whenever michael is close to the edge while buried deep in you, he starts uncontrollably twitching and bumping your prostate, causing you to let out a pitchy whine at the unexpected feeling. every time without a doubt, his eyes roll back and growls into your ear at you clenching around him

he has a small photo shrine of your cocks together, a mess of cum and spit framed for his appreciation (he's a romantic)

his dirty fantasy is getting your attention while you're on the phone in bed by mouthing and groping at your cock, working you through the fabric of your pants

michael is obsessed with rutting his cock against yours, covering each other in your arousals, cum spurting up onto your chests as you nip and kiss at each other's chest and throat

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

mikey loses his mind a little each time you cream on his shaft, feeling your arousal dripping down to his balls and coating the insides of his thighs. just the thought of your slick coating him is enough to make his eyes roll back

he rips or cuts your underwear off you if he's too impatient to wait for you to fully undress

once michael is fully stuffed inside you, he gently traces where you meet, in awe of how he manages to fit in your heat

his large hands span over the bulge of his cock in your tummy, making you tear up at the pressure and drip onto the sheets

leans his head closer to your ear just to make sure you hear his groans and grunts while he destroys your pussy

his favourite sight is his pearly globs of cum oozing out of your puffy, soaked hole - made complete by the fucked out glaze in your eyes as you stare at the blurry spectre of a giant between your thighs

he tentatively gropes your thighs and enjoys warming his hands by sticking them up your shirt. if you both happen to make an appearance in public, expect him to crowd around you to try and shield you form from wandering eyes - he may be yours but you're also his, so no one has a right to touch or even look at your precious body (especially not your soft tits or ass, they're for him only)

teach him to tie his hair in a messy bun or acquire a hairband for him to keep his hair from getting sticky whenever he does down on you, slurping and worshipping your pussy like it's his god-given purpose on this earth

once he tries taking you in a mating press, he accidentally discovers heaven. he can fully dwarf you in his shadow and also cradle your pretty face while erratically thrusting and groaning in that raspy voice you love. if he fucks you dumb, he's more than happy to wipe away your tears

sometimes michael hesitates pushing into you for fear of it hurting too much, unintentionally resulting in him working you up by teasing your entrance with his thick cockhead then nudging your clit, fully soaking his length in your arousal

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes

michael's sadistic side comes out when he spanks your cock until your sloppy boycunt is drooling onto the mattress. he makes sure to gently slip his finger in your hole every so often, his delight in your whines is very evident when you can feel him throbbing under you

his strong forearms easily hold down your hips to stop them from rutting into his mouth whenever he sucks you off, making you shiver with every thrust of his tongue. his dick is neglected while he goes to town, not that mikey minds at all. he knows he'll be able to go balls deep after you've cum at least once to loosen up for him

due to his strength, he'll keep you still even while you become overstimulated, the pleasure bordering on pain but he's too far gone to care - this man becomes so pussydrunk that he can barely process that he's stained all of the material in your immediate vicinity with your arousal; your pants, his shirt, the carpet and not to mention the couch or bedsheets from his erratic wiping of his fingers when they get too slippery

loves to have you bouncing on his cock - grabbing your hips until they're bruised to control the pace and depth, pushing you to take all of him inside

sometimes if you look extra delectable while attempting to reach something off of a high shelf, michael may not be able to control himself and his craving for your taste - he will bend you over with no hesitation and make out with your cunt, nose glistening in your folds as his chapped lips graze against your tdick and his chin dripping with your pre. his massive hands groping your ass as he spreads your legs for better access

the rhythmic clapping of his heavy balls slapping your sopping cock is forever engrained in his mind, sometimes resurfacing at the most inconvenient times - he will be forced to rush home in the middle of an attempted spree just to feel your body against his

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes

michael chases the sensation of having you pressed up against him while you're wearing clothing he's gotten you

he loves you feeling pretty whenever you're on top, tucking your hair behind your ear and using his thumb to swipe his cum off your chin

he will make you do your makeup before you fuck, needing you to feel as beautiful as possible while he absolutely destroys your hole - lipgloss smeared, mascara running, hair mussed and bruises all over your hips. he views you as a goddess, so expect him to make you feel like one

when you guide him to take your balls in his mouth, he'll eagerly suckle on them then return to your tip for his reward, eager to lap up your arousal with obscene slurping noises and proud huffs of satisfaction

he has a small shrine of your panties he's borrowed, keeping the ones with the dainty floral details for 'creative inspiration'

mikey gently squeezes on the back of your neck when preparing to take you from behind - he cannot simply cum from you squirming in impatience and grinding into him, he's not even inside you yet (it would be a waste quite frankly)

as his stubble rubs you raw whenever he eats you out, prepare for the bubbling heat beneath your skin to return tenfold whenever he fucks your thighs like a madman

_ _ _ _ _

sorry if writing quality dropped, this took so long lmao. art the clown is next btw, look out for that.

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

[erotetica]

Fuck Trump, here’s all the civil rights orgs I know:

(Most have education pages and/or socials to follow and boost if u can’t donate right now)

LGBTQ+

Trevor Project—queer crisis hotline/counseling (NOTE THAT THEY CALL POLICE IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS)

List of Crisis Hotlines/etc compiled by Inclusive Therapists .com which DON’T CALL POLICE

Point of Pride—helps trans folks having trouble accessing gender affirming healthcare

Trans Lifeline—community support/resources/financial aid for trans folks

REPRODUCTIVE RIGHTS

National Network of Abortion Funds—financial assistance/transport/childcare for people in ban states seeking abortions.

Brigid Alliance—same

Sister Song—reproductive justice for WOC

Indigenous Women Rising—helps Indigenous families access abortions/menstrual hygiene/midwifery/etc

Afiya Center—reproductive justice/HIV care for Black womxn in Texas

Abortion access orgs for Americans in the

Midwest

South

Appalachia (they also offer free emergency contraception/support services/etc)

RACIAL JUSTICE

NYU Law Center on Race Inequality—self-education resources on racism & antiblackness/how to contact elected officials/how to protest safely.

List of orgs protecting Black Americans, compiled by NYU (incl NAACP, Audre Lorde Project, BLM, Black Voters Matter, etc)

National Immigration Law Center—fighting for asylum seeking/DACA; helping immigrants access healthcare/worker’s rights/etc

American Civil Liberties Union—working on many intersectional initiatives

Southern Poverty Law Center—same

GLOBAL AID (While we Americans wait for shoes to start dropping, let’s not forget others in need, and that Trump’s atrocious foreign policies will affect everyone!)

World Central Kitchen—hunger relief

Action Against Hunger—same

War Child—supports and educates children in conflict zones, like Yemen and DRC

Medecins Sans Frontieres— medical aid

Islamic Relief USA—emergency aid

PALESTINIAN AID

Palestine Children’s Relief Fund— medical aid for kids

Anera— emergency relief & long-term development resources for Palestine, Lebanon, Jordan

United Nations Relief and Works Agency—aid for Palestinian refugees in Lebanon/Syria/West Bank/Gaza/Jordan

Palestine Red Crescent Society—medical aid

SUDANESE AID

List of humanitarian orgs working in Sudan, compiled by 500 Words Magazine

CONGOLESE AID

Panzi Foundation—supports assault survivors & their families

Eastern Congo Initiative—supports ands funds local/community-based Congolese efforts

Please reblog, & add any legitimate humanitarian organizations you know of! I love all of you!!

[alistonjdrake]

WIP INTRO: A Woman of No Importance

A Woman Of No Importance: A Look Into the Political and Sex Lives of Medieval Women All Tied With a Nice Enemies-to-Lovers bow

The Early Ages was a fraught time for a budding country, and no one knows that better than historian Sabina Sphar, whose deep dive into one long-gone country leads to an obsession with two women held responsible for its downfall. The year is 946 W.C. and King Oswald of Vilsland has just ordered the execution of his once beloved aunt, Princess Mathilde. Now wanted for treason, Princess Mathilde seeks refuge in her childhood home, currently occupied by a woman who holds a powerful grudge. Twenty years ago, Cierra Dimmock and Princess Mathilde were rivals in the midst of a bloody game of intrigue and court manners. One was a standing regent struggling to keep her grasp on the court and the other the new, foreign wife of a prominent duke. Their feud resulted in one being jailed and the other humiliated. Now, the tables have turned and Cierra is a wealthy widow and Dowager Duchess while Princess Mathilde is an exile looking for political asylum. In a moment of pity, Cierra allows her old enemy to spend the night in her home. Their fates will be sealed by morning and this decision could cost both women their lives. But what is certain is that their country and history will never be the same.

Told through interviews, land deeds, court diaries, letters, Cierra's own narration, and the musings of several historians. A Woman of No Importance tells the story of a rotten feud between two middle-aged women but also the ill-fated history of Vilsland and how the interactions of these characters wiped it off the map.

AWONI is currently looking for early readers so please message me if interested or learn more below!

Prominent Characters

Sabina Spahr: Queer Early Ages historian most interested in the well-documented feud between Cierra Dimmock and Princess Mathilde. Cierra de Bellièvre: Remembered as the foreign wife of Notker Dimmock. Cierra has left behind little written record of her life except for her pious and astute nature. Mathilde of Dester: Born a princess, raised as a hostage, died as a traitor. From successfully leading a country as its regent to fumbling a treasonous uprising, there is little Mathilde hasn't done or been criticized for. Edelgard Notkerdotter Dimmock: Cierra's daughter and the only sovereign duchess of Dester. Sister Gisela: Cierra's nun companion who writes extensively about her mistress during their youth. Ivo Túfel: A soft-hearted poet who ventures to the court of Vilsland to write of beauty and romance.

AWONI discusses topics such as: sexual assault, religious persecution, discrimination based on gender, and discrimination based on sexuality, so readers should take care.

[clear-daydream]

Hinata Hajime probably didn't get a lobotomy

A dumb essay by Clear-Daydream

(Disclaimer: I am not a surgeon nor a medical professional. This is merely based on my own research and the fact I think about things too hard. Furthermore, I am well aware that Danganronpa is a fictional story that uses unrealistic information for its storytelling. This is not meant to bash anyone who believes Hinata had a lobotomy. This is just me wanting to ramble about characters.)

(TW: I go pretty in-depth about procedures, so be warned of mild gore and medical talk.)

My problem with Hinata's surgeries being described as a 'lobotomy' is the intentions. The intentions of lobotomy and the intentions of the Kamukura Project don't align, despite both being unethical.

Let's first break down what lobotomy is and its intentions:

Lobotomy can be traced back to the works of a neurologist named Antonio Egas Moniz, who worked in the early 20th century. He believed that by severing neural pathways, he could alleviate the effects of mental illness. The first lobotomy, known at the time as 'leucotomy', was performed in 1935, by an associate working with Antonio by the name of Almeida Lima. He was a neurosurgeon who contributed to psychosurgery and worked as the main surgeon for Antonio as the ladder could not perform them due to health issues.

The first ever patient was a 63-year-old female who exhibited a multitude of symptoms from a variety of disorders. Almeida performed the leucotomy utilizing an instrument known as a 'leucotome' to sever neural connections that ran through the frontal lobe. The patient allegedly exhibited relief from her symptoms post-surgery, and in 1949, Antonio won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine despite facing heavy criticism for his work.

The lobotomy that we know now, was a term introduced during the mid-1930s by two American neurosurgeons, Walter Freeman II and James W. Walts. Since 1945, the lobotomy was performed with pick-like instruments, primarily known as the 'orbitoclast', being inserted through the eye socket. Earlier methods of lobotomy required opening the skull, but by utilizing the orbitoclast, they would use a hammer to insert it through the thin bone in between the eye socket and the frontal lobe of the brain. (Put a pin in that distinction, we'll get back to it.) It was considered a less invasive approach to psychiatric surgery.

Lobotomies were popularized during the late 1940s and early 1950s to treat a multitude of psychiatric disorders. Lobotomies were viewed as a last resort when other treatments at the time couldn't reduce debilitating symptoms. They were considered a quick and effective treatment to remove patients from harsh living conditions in asylums. This was the alternative to something like ECT or electroconvulsive therapy and was one of the very few psychiatric options at the time. (I'll get into the ethics and risks of lobotomies later, don't you worry.)

Lobotomies were performed primarily on women, estimating that up to 60% of patients receiving these surgeries were female. This is reflected by the time's social biases when women's mental health and social dynamics were skewed by the restrictiveness of gender roles. Nonconformance to domestic roles leading to medical professional intervention.

Now, if you just read through that history textbook and came out the other side with no idea what it means, let me break it down for you. Lobotomies, no matter how unethical they were, were originally a medical procedure for patients to alleviate their extreme symptoms. To put it bluntly, its severing neural pathways and that's it.

The problem with describing Hinata's surgeries as a 'lobotomy', is the fact the Kamukura Project was meant to manipulate cognitive and emotional functions and force neuroenhancements to optimize cognitive performances. They surgically removed emotions, hobbies, and personality and forcefully regressed memories to make room for talent. Hinata was nothing more than a template to gut and rebuild into the embodiment of the scientist and surgeons' ideologies and attempts to create the 'Ultimate Hope'. A talented person who knew no sense of emotional understanding or non-conformance.

It would take a lot more than a lobotomy to perform such drastic changes to Hinata.

Breaking down the potential post-surgery complications and long-term needs Hinata may experience.

Cognitive complications like struggle with memory recollection, difficulty with concentration, and remaining focused on particular tasks.

Emotional and psychological symptoms like an increase in anxiety and depression. Sudden personality changes like affective flattening, which is the decrease in emotional, verbal, and physical expression of emotions.

Physical symptoms, an increased risk of neurological complications like seizures, motor impairment, and excessive fatigue.

Communication difficulties, like social isolation and aphasia, a language disorder that affects reading, speech, and writing comprehension.

Some long-term needs include ongoing medical supervision and rehabilitation.

In order to address scars, I unfortunately have to talk about this confusing drawing.

...I don't even know what's going on in this drawing and the text is gibberish, fan translators have tried. The closest thing I could find to explain those crochet hook looking things is the phlebectomy hook. The problem is that these medical instruments are only utilized for phlebectomy procedures, which is to extract veins through small incisions. Yet they are using it for Hinata's brain here. For some reason.

It doesn't even match the description of Hinata's scar. If the scar is across his forehead, that means it's more likely a result of a craniotomy. A craniotomy is the surgical removal of a section of the skull known as a 'bone flap'. It specifically could be an extended bifrontal craniotomy, which involves making incisions to the scalp behind the hairline. This is usually used to access the frontal lobe for tumors without extensive brain manipulation. It is described as a straight line across and could be the reason his scar is unnoticeable with his bangs.

So, what is Hinata's surgery? I'm not sure, honestly. I contemplated combing through brainwashing and human experimentation in history, but I'll leave that for another time.

Thank you for reading my brain dump. I hope you guys took something away from this at least.

[sickofthis666]

Alex: "Since she's here illegally, she lives in constant fear of being sent back to the rape capital of the world.

Olivia: If anybody qualifies for asylum, she does.

Alex: Do you know rape is not recognized as grounds for asylum? It is only granted for persecution based on race, religion, nationality, or political opinion. Gender violence isn't even covered."

— SVU s11 e16

[cannedbeefaroni]

March Of The Pigs: The Bad Touch Pt. 2 (Edward Nashton X Reader)

Part 1

Summary: You can't save Edward Nashton when the whole system is rigged against its patients. Desperate times call for desperate measures

Content: SMUT 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MEDICAL MALPRACTISE, MANIPULATION, POWER IMBALANCE (for those reasons, i consider this fic to be DUBCON), VIOLENCE, Reader and Edward have a bit of a role reversed Harley Quinn and Joker dynamic, Edward is described to struggle with hypersexuality and paraphilias (based on how the reader is described, they also have those issues), handjob, penetrative sex (not specified whether its anal or vaginal), exhibitionism (public sex), physical restraints, degradation

Y/N is referred to in second person as you/yours and is written to be entirely gender neutral.

(I'm sorry this is pretty short)

You were so fucking sick. Sick of yourself trying to assimilate into this corrupt, archaic environment, thinking you had any sort of power to be the change you wanted to see. You thought working at Arkham Asylum would give you the opportunity to help the outcasts and undesirables of society. It was stupid of you to assume that would ever be the case. All you achieved was becoming a pon in a system that only benefits the top 1%. There was no such thing as helping anybody, only imprisonment and torturous treatment, pretending to the rest of the world that something good was being done. You weren’t better, you realize how selfish you had become at the hands of this job. At this point, you weren’t even sure who was to blame: you, the given circumstances, or Edward Nashton. You knew what he was capable of, so it infuriated you seeing how small and weak he chose to become. Watching him be manhandled by guards on nearly a daily basis made you want to vomit. The worst of it had to be that one time you had the misfortune of seeing the nurses physically restrain him to the floor as they forced medication down his throat. You had a horrific epiphany that you never felt real empathy in your life until now. Knowing that for years you had seen all this occur and simply looked away, you hated yourself for it.

The day you had lost your job was the biggest relief of your life, but simultaneously the worst thing to ever happen. You’ll admit that it was probably unethical to perform sexual acts on your patient, but at a certain point you just stopped caring. You didn’t value working there anymore. You were able to engage with Edward inappropriately in three different sessions before you were found out, the last time being caught on camera in irrefutable evidence. 

The first time you met with him after the incident began, you were extremely cautious, aware that you had gotten overzealous the last time. Making sure to be as quiet as possible, you touched him again. He was even more eager this time about it, body shaking as he fucked your fist. Keeping your head down, you pretended that the interaction was purely professional. Your face stayed dead straight as your body internally screamed for relief. His tip turned red as precum pooled from his aching dick. You must have unintentionally leaned in closer, because you could feel his heavy breaths on your face as you kept your head down. Then he kissed you, catching you off guard. He leaned down, catching your lips with his, tilting his head to the side as his mouth dropped open, forcing his tongue into your mouth. He couldn’t hold you, since his hands were cuffed behind his back as per usual, but you didn’t pull away. You knew you should’ve pushed him away, but you just sat there, letting him make out with you as you unenthusiastically tugged on his dick. You felt miserable, knowing you were nothing but his therapist as he shot ropes of cum on your shirt, then it pooled over your hand. Near tears, he apologized profusely, but you insisted it was alright. You rushed to the bathroom after that session, desperately trying to wash your shirt in the sink, but you could only do so much, and ended up going the rest of the day in a soiled, damp shirt. 

During your last encounter with Edward, you were acutely aware that this arrangement couldn’t last much longer. You couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone knew what you were doing with him. Even though you felt your days were numbered, you decided against your better judgment to risk it all, going as far as possible. You put him inside you, and he didn’t stop you. Leaning back in his seat as far as his arms cuffed around the back would let him, you sat on his lap with his legs spread open, and you fucked him. He hissed viscerally behind you, tensing every muscle in his body as he resisted the urge to scream from the feeling of how mercilessly you viced him. Leaning forward, holding yourself up against the table, you rode his dick, and no matter how slow you went, the chair clanked against the floor. You hung your head, staring at your feet as you two desperately thrusted into each other. His tip prodded deep inside you, feeling as if every organ in your stomach was reacting to his penetration. Despite trying to keep the pace slow, he kept going faster, and you didn’t have the willpower to deny it. 

“You’re doing so well,” you praised him, for the first time in a genuine tone. You sounded disheveled and breathless. 

“You’re a shitty fucking therapist,” he chuckles cruelly. Head spinning back, you glare at him, eyes glossed over. That was probably your biggest mistake. Looking him desperately in the eyes as he degraded you so viciously. There was never a point in your life where you came that hard. It was almost numbing, and you couldn’t stop yourself from screaming out in pure ecstasy. Soon after he came inside, filling you up so much it was dripping down your legs when you stood up. 

“I’m sorry, Edward. I’ll make things right, I promise,” you said as the session finished, and you dressed the two of you back up before leaving, allowing the guards to take him back to his cell. 

Soon after you were called into your boss’ office. You didn’t need to go to know you were fired, but you did anyway. It was probably the most humiliating moment of your life, but on the plus side, they’d keep this incident a secret.Apparently what you had done was the most embarrassing thing to ever happen in the history of the asylum. It seemed they cared more about a public image than morality. You were told to never speak of it and move on. Somehow, that outcome was even worse than you expected. The truth was finally revealed to you: that there was no saving this abomination. There was no guilt or questioning what you were about to do. 

It was disgustingly simple, sneaking into places you didn’t belong, stealing a ring of keys from an unsuspecting guard, and just playing a guessing game of which one would unlock the button in the control room that would unlock all of the cells. The guards were all underpaid and undertrained, making the simple act of carrying out the plan right under their noses a breeze. One of them asked what you were doing, but all you had to do was flash your ID, which you hadn’t turned in like you were just told to. 

The moment the cover was lifted and the button was hit, you had mere minutes to carry out the rest of your plan as the emergency sirens blared. You were free to find Edward’s cell. Just like all the others, his cell door was wide open, and he was standing in the doorway, confused and scared. You run straight towards him, almost knocking him over as you collide. He tries to protest, stuttering as you grab his hands and bolt down the corridor, taking him with you. Finding a fire extinguisher on a wall, you smashed the glass with your fist and hauled it into your arms, slowing down, allowing security to catch up, but you swung it around, hitting one of them in the stomach with intense force. You and Edward continued your escape as you located any room with windows that weren’t barred in. Finding the office you were just fired in, the door was left wide open, so you ran in and threw the fire extinguisher through the window. 

This was the worst possible escape route, as the window led to a steep drop into the ocean. It probably wouldn’t kill you, but you didn’t have an option as you only had mere seconds to act before the two of you would be apprehended. Edward was petrified, but didn’t hesitate when you grabbed him, throwing him out the window, as well as yourself. 

It felt like you had died. The only feeling in your body was how cold it was, but the moment you realized you weren’t getting air, your survival instincts reacted, and you started moving again, peaking your head from the murky water before you could drown. Red flashing lights were reflecting in the pitch black water of the harbor. You could feel something brush along your leg, and your heart sunk when you realized it was Edward, still underwater. You dived in, reaching for him until you finally got a grasp on the scruff of his shirt. Pulling him up, his face peaked into the air, and for a moment he was completely still. You shook him as hard as you could, even slapping his face to wake him up, then he started hacking and coughing violently. His face was bleeding, and his glasses were missing entirely, leading you to assume they broke and cut him up. Holding onto him, you began swimming toward the nearest infrastructure in the water, needing something to hold onto so you wouldn’t drown from fatigue. Hiding in the water under the docks seemed like the safest option for now. 

Arkham was ignited with chaos as the freed inmates rampaged the island. Your head was so full of water you could barely hear the gunshots and violence occurring. You clung for dear life to a filthy algae covered wooden support. Edward was clinging to you, his head hinged on your shoulder. He was crying, and you didn’t know why it shocked you. You forced this upon him, now it was your responsibility to save him.

[ryns-ramblings]

Monday 12/16/24 Triggers: cult/religious trauma (descriptive), CSA (mentioned not detailed), bombing (mentioned not detailed)

After many moons, I am returning to my oldest work-in-progress The Arcana Quest (TAQ)! Old summary can be found here to get a general idea of the storyline. I have known for a while that TAQ needed a big overhaul and has had a lot of its themes change, but in my brain it was formless so I couldn't start it. However, I have found a starting point to work off of for my first draft. I realize that I want to be a planner, but I am a pantser at heart, so I'm just going to jump in and see where I go.

I have a summary below of the beginning up to the catalyst. I'd really like it if you'd look it over and give your thoughts and/or ideas. Triggers are above.

Setting: A high fantasy setting resembling the world of the 1940s/WW2 era.

Protagonist: Antigone Fairview, genderfluid, 22. A graduate student studying Arcanism, a major religion in this world, at a university notorious for its connection to a secret society called Order of the Green Flame. It is actually a doomsday cult they were born into that is preparing for a prophecy to be fulfilled where their prophesied supreme leader will bring about the end of the world to make it anew.

Antagonist: Herald Grunell, cis man, early 40s. Following the prophecy the members essentially had a breeding program to birth The High Lord, a epitaph for a player in a prophecy in which he will be adversaries with "Gemini" to collect the nine Arcane Artifacts that will allow them to "ascend to the stars" and have one request granted by the nine gods. He has recently ascended to the role as Prime Minister in the country of Verdun and is a charismatic populist leader beginning military mobilization to conquer neighboring countries with the ultimate goal of taking the country of Dorimus, where the prophecy will be fulfilled.

So a lot of themes around religion come into play as I’m basing this story around ideas I've had in connection to me being raised in a cult, having to do religious deconstruction, and seeing the rise of Christian nationalism in the US. Antigone has been raised in a doomsday cult trying to fulfill The Arcana Quest, a famous prophecy about the potential end of the world while “The High Lord” and “Gemini” will be working to collect these items (arcane artifacts) and who does will “ascend to the stars” in order to get one wish. This cult has been basically trying to breed the existence of the High Lord and they did. He is in his 40s and has gained power. He is an “uncle” aka adult male within the cult. Antigone revealed as a kid that he had been SA-ing them and basically has been ousted as an outsider since then and gaslit that they were in the wrong. Due to this and realizing their gender identity, they are in the beginning stages of wondering if their religious indoctrination is all true/questioning but is feeling ashamed to be doing so. They are an academic and their interpretation of the prophecy is not aligning with the cult creed and they have an idea of where one of the unknown arcane artifacts is located. A creepy conversation between Herald (High Lord) and Antigone will reveal that destroying and recreating the world is not metaphorical and will be creating it in his image. This leads them to them to essentially blow up the cult building in an attempt to kill Herald and will escape with an arcane artifact. They will be running to Dorimus for asylum and to follow their hypothesis about the potential location of one of the arcane artifacts not accounted for.

I am really excited about this new beginning. I'd appreciate any thoughts, questions, or opinions about the summary above. A snippet will be posted soon!

[pedropascallme]

HIII ok i adored ur Jim fic i love him SOO BADDDD WAHHH !!!! i was wondering if i could request a Jim smut of some kind??? i’m a trans man so i would love an afab reader w gender neutral/masc pronouns but of course only whatever ur comfy w:) and if u don’t wanna do that anything else jim related pls i love him SOOOO BADDD!!!! okay sorry for the huge block of text ily and ur work is god tier bro.

The New Normal

Pairing: Jim x gn!afab!Reader

Summary: "You felt the sudden urge to kiss him, to grab him and pull him close to you, tell him to join you in the shower. "

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral (m & f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, praise kink, kinda almost soft!dom Jim? Reader is AFAB but no use of gendered pronouns, uhhh brief allusion to 9/11 blink and you'll miss it, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Max NEVER apologize for asking for Jim smut I am ALWAYS looking for a reason to write Jim smut. Also forgive the cross tagging but the only way I will ever reach other Cillian sluts is if I use the Thomas Shelby tag.

America was different than you’d expected it to be.

In the shows and movies, there wasn’t much diversity; either you were on a farm, or you were in the big city. The speech patterns were always overdramatized, too, and when you first reached the McGuire base in New Jersey, you were a bit disappointed when nobody shouted that “they were walkin’ he-ya!” Even more disappointed when you reached Brooklyn and were told that the accent was of a dying variety.

But in the grand scheme of things, it was so…normal. It was England before the outbreak, but with smaller busses and slower trains. You didn’t really know how to feel about it, about how the rest of the world carried on so unconcerned while the island you grew up in fell to pieces. In a way, relieved, but a small part of you felt almost offended that nobody was holding constant vigils.

What offended you more, though, was the realization that the process of being granted asylum was not something that happened quickly. While you were appreciative to Hannah’s distant cousins who had agreed to sponsor you while you awaited the business to be over—which could take years, you’d learned—you were nauseated that you still had to prove yourself in order to be allowed to stay. The lawyers, doctors, soldiers, and judges you’d met with explained that the process would go smoothly, that it was something that had to be done, not due to the nature of the thing you were escaping, but due to those who might abuse any leniency the country showed.

The world really hadn’t changed at all.

~~~

“Finished already?” You hummed at Jim when he walked through the door. Hannah’s family had taken you all shopping when you first arrived—a relief, really, to be able to change out of the fatigues the air force had given you—and Jim, despite his usual attire being casual, at best, looked so…handsome, now, with his skin not caked in blood, or dirt, or sweat. His hair was growing back in and he was wearing jeans that actually fit him. His shirt read “I<3NY” and even though you told him it looked ridiculous when he had first picked it up, you couldn’t deny that it hugged his arms in the right places.

“Not much to be done. You stitched me up so well.” He smiled at you, crossing the apartment to join you on the couch. “Doctor said he’d like to meet you.”

“I’ve met too many people this month.” You curled your legs up under you and stretched your arms over your head. “Never thought I’d say it, but I miss the apocalypse.” You leaned your head back.

Jim exhaled through his nose, amused, leaning himself back on the couch to face you. “No, you don’t.”

“I don’t,” You agreed, “It’s just…”

“Too much, too soon.”

“I guess.” You stared at each other for a while, not moving, not speaking. “I wish I could fast forward.” Jim tilted his head into the cushion he was leaning on, prompting you to continue. “I want to be used to it by now. Wanna be able to walk down the street and see a missing poster and still have hope.” You shuddered when you remembered the posters plastered on the train station walls, how familiar one disaster could feel when compared to another. “I want to feel normal. Everything here is so normal. Why am I not normal yet?” You didn’t have the energy to continue pouring over your emotions, perfectly fine with leaving it on that note.

“You’re not normal.” Jim leaned forward. “Neither am I. Neither is Hannah—s’got nothing to do with—” He waved around the two of you, implying the ordeal you’d lived through. You nodded in agreement. “And we’ll never be their kind of normal. Might just be ‘cause we’re English. Heard they had a war with us here, way back.” Jim deadpanned, and you smiled at him.

“I think I just need a shower.” You sighed, still looking at him. You felt the sudden urge to kiss him, to grab him and pull him close to you, tell him to join you in the shower. You felt your skin flush at the thought. You hadn’t been able to do much of anything but go to different meetings since you got here. One after another, it had made it difficult to find time for yourself, let alone time for you and Jim. Stolen kisses here and there, cuddles under the sheets of your bed, calling out “I love you” before the door closed behind you—there had been no time to enjoy each other.

Not to mention, you lived in a rented apartment with thin walls, and Hannah’s room was next to yours.

You hesitated to get up, and Jim sensed your delay. He brought a hand up to your hair, petting you.

“Hannah’s gone for the night. Sleepover.” You muttered, trying to be sly instead of asking for anything outright. Jim cocked a brow in jest.

“Just us, then?”

“Just us.” You confirmed. Tension formed between the two of you, and you swallowed.

“We can—can I join you in the shower?” His words were rushed, and he looked down when he spoke, only looking back up at you to gage your reaction once the question was complete. “You can say n—”

“Yes.” You felt breathless.

~~~

It was almost laughable, the two of you getting undressed together. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, a shared bedroom holds plenty of space for two people to dress and undress in front of each other, but the expectation made all the difference. Jim’s “I<3NY” shirt was now discarded on the floor, his jeans unbuttoned as he helped you out of your own outfit. Your mouth fell open slightly when he peeled your shirt off of you, the feeling of his hands leaving a warm trail over your sides and a wet feeling between your legs. You reached for the waistband of his jeans, looping your fingers over the denim and into the boxers he wore underneath and beginning to pull down. He laughed quietly as he watched you struggle to move them down his waist.

“Don’t have to do all the work.” He placed his hands over yours and helped you remove his clothes. In turn, he found the button of your jeans and quickly undid them, letting you pull down the tight material and exposing yourself to him. All that remained were your panties, and Jim let out a low whistle when he reached out to brush the lace with his knuckles. “Pretty baby.”

You pushed against his chest lightly. “Shower.” You reminded him, but at this point it didn’t really matter to you. You whined slightly when his hand fell lower over your sex, nearly cupping you.

“Got all night.” He pulled down the remaining fabric, leaving you completely naked for him. And that’s how you felt—naked. Almost scared, as if now that your underwear was off and you were stripped completely, he would reconsider and not want this anymore—not want you anymore. You realized how stupid that sounded when Jim stood up at eye-level, grinning at you. You looked at him sheepishly as you stepped out of the panties pooled at your feet and toward him. You reached out to trace what remained of the wound on his abdomen, letting your fingers kiss the spots you hoped to eventually place your mouth on.

Suddenly you were in his arms, swooped up bridal style as he walked you into the bathroom. You heard yourself laugh nervously, and you buried your face into his neck. Feeling bold, you licked a stripe up to his pulse point, and he shuddered.

“Don’t wanna drop you.” He protested your action, but he lifted his head slightly to allow you better access. You did it again, letting your tongue linger and drift to his earlobe, nipping at it, feeling more and more comfortable with each step Jim took. He sighed dreamily, then placed you down on your feet next to the tub. He turned the handle, pulling the curtain back and taking your hand to guide you under the water. You all but pulled him in after you, and though he stumbled at first, he found his footing right in front of you. You watched the way the water seemed the frame his face; droplets running down his cheekbones and off of his chin. You kissed him, letting the water fall over your face, tasting it when you opened your mouth to welcome his tongue. You sighed into his mouth, a perfect combination of his taste and that of the water settling on your taste buds, and it went straight to your core. He leaned away from you, wrapping an arm around your waist and examining how the water matched the curve of your breasts. He kissed your chest, sucking on the skin just enough to make faint spots appear. You combed your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes.

“Normally,” He licked over what would soon become a dark purple spot, “I use the shower to wash up—reflect, sometimes.” He kissed his way up your chest and neck before straightening himself out and kissing your nose. “This is a much better use of my time.” You rolled your eyes, putting gentle pressure on his neck to encourage him to lean down and kiss you. He pulled you tighter to him, and you could feel his erection against your thigh. He pushed against you, enjoying the bit of friction you provided him, and you heard him grunt quietly. His hands found purchase on your ass, squeezing the flesh gently and using the angle to draw you even closer.

“Y’know—oh!” You were cut off by an especially hard squeeze as Jim’s hands continued to roam over your ass, “I do need—I need to wash my hair…”

“Tomorrow.” Was all Jim said, reaching between your bodies to place his cock where your stomach met his crotch. You gasped at the heavy feeling of him against you, and your own hand made its way down to grab hold of him. Jim choked on his own breath, eyes fluttering shut when you began to move your wrist up and down his length. Out of curiosity, you looked down to watch your ministrations, wanting to fully enjoy the view that you had so desperately craved for so long. His cock was long, and you could see and feel the veins that ran up the extent of his shaft to the pink of his tip. You moaned quietly at the sight, hoping Jim didn’t think you pathetic for the pleasure you got out of stroking him. His mouth agape, he shut his eyes tight, trying not to think about how good your hand felt. You kneeled before him, and planted a kiss on his head, licking a stripe over him.

“O—h,” he was panting, “Fuck, baby.” You watched his chest rise and fall dramatically as you took his tip between your lips, swiping your tongue over and around it a few times before beginning to inch the rest of him inside of your mouth. You moved your head up and down, gagging slightly when you felt the pressure of holding him too deep for too long against the back of your throat. “Oh, fu—yeah, that’s it. Good, baby, so good.” You hummed in appreciation of his praise, the vibrations making him bite his lip and furrow his brow in concentration, desperately trying to ward off his high before he had gotten to explore you fully. You pulled your mouth off of his cock with a pop that softly echoed in the shower, and he watched as you planted more kisses along him.

He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. The vision in front of you made you feel dizzy; Jim breathing hard, cock bobbing against his stomach, wet from your spit and from the shower, hair falling over his ears, draped in a blanket of water. You rubbed your thighs together, now pruned hand resting on his knee for, what? Permission, maybe?

Jim helped you up from the floor, and you watched him turn the shower handle. In the brief moment before the water stopped completely, it turned freezing cold, and you felt goosebumps erupt over you. You brought yourself closer to Jim, both in an attempt to find warmth and in a silent plea that he continue what had begun in the shower.

Dripping wet—in more ways than one—you found yourself back in your bedroom. Lying on your back, Jim looked over you, then began kissing over the marks he had made on you in the shower. You whimpered, a hand finding his hair and lacing your fingers through his short locks. You pulled slightly when his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, and he groaned in pleasure at the sensation. His hand slowly traced down your stomach, fingers delicately finding their way to your clit before pressing on it lightly.

“Jim—!” Your exclamation motivated him to continue. He sat up a bit, kneading your bud with one hand and holding your cheek in another, holding eye contact as he slid one finger into your soaking wet center. You threw your head back, only then realizing that you hadn’t even had the time to pleasure yourself in God only knows how long. He curled his finger upwards, and your back arched into him. He smirked, clearly proud of what he was doing to you. He shuffled backwards on the bed, still pumping a finger in and out of you while he positioned himself between your legs. You felt the mattress shift under his weight when he straightened himself out onto his stomach, propped up with one elbow.

“So pretty.” You felt his breath fanning over your cunt, and you squirmed. Jim leaned into you, kissing your inner thighs while you wiggled your hips in an attempt to get his attention where you needed it the most. When he finally licked a lazy stripe over your clit, you let out an absentminded sigh, pushing yourself up to him in encouragement. He removed his finger from you, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling, though he immediately made up for the absence of his fingers with his tongue. He continued to lap at you, letting your slick coat his chin, nose brushing your clit. He sucked lightly on your bud, and your hands found his hair again, not sure if you wanted to push him in further, let him taste you until you screamed, or push him away, as your thighs began to tremble. He slid two fingers back into you and twisted them back and forth while his tongue darted over your clit. You squeezed his fingers, moans spilling from your mouth.

“C’mon baby, so good,” he removed his mouth from your core to coo at you, “wanna see you cum for me.” It was whispered into your skin, and you felt his words echo through your body. His lips found their place over your clit once more, and he sucked harder, fingers pumping in and out of you faster.

“Oh, ye—yes, like that, like that, please!” You couldn’t stop talking, couldn’t stop begging if you tried. Had falling over the edge always felt this good? You didn’t stop to ponder it, busy feeling your body fall victim to the pleasure Jim was gifting you. You moaned, trying to grab at the man who had buried himself between your legs, but he was fully content to stay where he was until he knew you’d ridden out your orgasm. You cried out his name, back arching, body granting him even more access to your pussy, and when you felt him moan at the taste of you, you came hard for him. He placed soft kisses over your cunt, and you couldn’t help the moan you let out when he began pulling his fingers out of you.

You were still panting when he kissed you. Your arms came to rest around his neck, breathing heavily through your nose as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. “Taste so good,” Jim was also clearly short of breath, “you taste that, baby?” His lips found yours again, and he let you suck gently on his tongue, let you taste yourself on him. You shivered; it felt so dirty, Jim still damp with your wet, encouraging you to enjoy the taste your cum had left on him, dipping his tongue deep into your eager mouth and speaking to you like you belonged to him.

You did belong to him, and the thought made your eyes roll back into your head.  

He pulled you into his arms, flipping over so that you were lying on top of him. You found the strength to push yourself up, hands planted on his chest, to straddle him. The feeling of his cock between your legs, still hard, and all for you, made you feel frantic, and you began to roll your hips over him, feeling him tense under you.

“That’s right,” he watched you with hooded eyes, “so eager.”

“Want you to fuck me.” You felt the tip of his cock push between your folds after one especially long roll of your hips, and you didn’t care if you looked pathetic anymore. You’d waited long enough; been so good, so ignorant of the forbidden fruit. One taste, and now you were helpless—completely at his mercy.

“God, say it again.”

“I want you to fuck me, Jim. Please.” You licked your lips before slipping the bottom one between your teeth. His eyes flitted over you, taking in the way you were begging, the way you sat bare, eagerly waiting for his cock. How had he let so much time pass before giving you what you both needed? He lifted you by the waist, encouraging you to stay kneeling above him slightly as he reached another hand down to line himself up with you. The split second before you lowered yourself down onto him felt like forever, but he watched, in awe of you, as you lowered yourself down onto him. You moaned for him when you felt his tip breach your hole, reaching for his chest and grasping at nothing while you continued to take him, inch by inch. You heard him groan out your name, breath going uneven when he finally bottomed out. You stayed like that for a moment, both of you in a trance-like state: You breathed in sync, gazing at each other, smiling like morons.

“I love you.” Jim whispered, placing a hand on your hip and squeezing. You leaned forward, steadying yourself on his shoulders.

“I love you.” You kissed him again, gentler, slower than the previous times. You did have all night—you had a lifetime of all nights with each other.

You began rocking back and forth slowly, allowing yourself time to adjust to the size of him, the feeling of being so full. You felt the tip of his cock brush against your g-spot almost immediately, making you gasp as you chased the feeling of his head nudging you closer to another high.

“God—fuck, you feel so good.” Jim praised, reaching the hand that wasn’t on your hip up to squeeze at your breasts. He licked his finger before bringing it back up, pinching your nipple and rolling over it with his thumb and forefinger. You moaned, back arching, and you started to bounce up and down on him. Your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders, but he didn’t seem to care, too busy bucking up into your cunt, drunk off the feeling of your juices dripping down his length and over his balls.

He moved both his hands over your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your curves, guiding your movements while you rode him.

“Cum for me again, baby. So good for me, one more time.” He started fucking up into you harder, the sweet noises you made spurring him on. “You can do it, yeah? So good—fuck—so good for me.” Now he was practically begging, slamming you down onto his cock while he pushed you towards another orgasm.

“I—oh, fuck, me, yes! Like that, Jim—yes!” You fell forward, curling yourself up on his chest and bringing your knees up slightly higher next to his ribs to allow him more ease, lifting you up and down. You mumbled incoherently into his neck, licking and kissing and nipping at him while he continued with deep, hard thrusts. You sucked a mark on his neck, and he groaned out your name, one hand coming down over your clit to coax a second orgasm from you.

“Fucking—oh, cum for me, baby. Cum on me like this.” And maybe it was the way you felt his fingers pushing bruises into your skin, or the way he breathlessly demanded you commit such a filthy act, or the way he seemed to be getting just as much enjoyment out of your pleasure as you were; but when you felt his cock pushed forcefully against your g-spot in time with the way he played with you clit, you couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from your lungs, or the way you chanted his name through sobs of pleasure. You clenched around him, squirming and sensitive and so full of his cock. You saw stars, saw how every second of your life had led to this moment, and when the shockwave of pleasure coursed through your body, all you could do was thank the man who had made you feel so good.

“Fu—ck, oh my god,” Jim groaned through clenched teeth, trying to delay his own orgasm so he could enjoy the way you squeezed him for as long as he could. He practically threw you down onto his cock, forcing himself as deep as you’d let him go, and at that moment, the only word that mattered to him was your name. “Where—where can I cum? Tell me, baby, where?” He was gasping, so close to the edge.

“Inside. Please, Jim, want it inside.” You knew it was reckless, knew you’d have to buy a pill later, but the pros far outweighed the cons.

Your words were all it took to send Jim hurtling over the precipice. He pushed himself deep into your cunt, painting your walls with his spend, both of you shivering at the feeling. You moaned quietly into his skin, and Jim wheezed as he took gulping breaths in an attempt to regulate his breathing. You felt his hand come to rest on your back, stroking up and down, the other coming up to your hair, tempting you out of your hiding spot, nuzzled in his neck.

“Ok?” He breathed.

“Mm.” You hummed, rubbing your cheek against his, comforted by the way your faces squished together. “More than ok.”

“I should’ve—I didn’t want you to feel, I d’know—” He couldn’t think of the right words. “I love you. Just wanted you to feel how much I love you.”

You smiled, fucked out and sleepy and satisfied. “You did a good job,” you kissed him, “did I?”

“More than good.” He smiled, throwing your own words back at you in reassurance.

“Will you stay inside a little longer?” You whispered, still relishing in the way he filled you up.

“God, yes,” Jim almost laughed, “don’t have to ask.” You ran your thumb over his cheek, eyelids heavy.

“Is this the new normal?” You posed the question, remembering your earlier rant.

“Yeah. Think so.” Jim splayed his hand out over your back.

“Good.”

[yanderes-galore]

Could I request something for romantic yandere DBD Nurse please? I can't decide if I'd rather have an alphabet or a concept so you can pick which one you'd prefer to write.

Sure! Was originally going to do a concept, but an Alphabet may be easier? Also, focusing on her base lore, not Tome lore.

Yandere Alphabet - The Nurse/Sally Smithson

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Violence, Death/Murder, Poor mental state, Delusional behavior, Mentioned kidnapping, Stalking, Fear of loss implied, Clingy behavior, Choking/Suffocation, Trauma, Forced relationship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Sally is quite the tragic character. In her base lore she went on a massacre in the asylum she worked at for two decades due to her failing mental health. She's gone insane... but maybe there's some humanity in her somewhere.

Sally would probably be one to slowly trail her darling at first. She doesn't want to scare you off. She may even see you as another person to treat.

Her obsession may start mild but grow intense. She's loved someone before, her husband, before he died. Now she's alone... but not for long.

When she gets her cold hands on you... she may never let go.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Messy, but not without reason. Similar to Amanda/The Pig, she feels the survivors around you could corrupt you. So it appears she'll need to purify them before they get near you... with her frigid fingers around their necks.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

She would not mock you, if anything she wants to try and "help" you. She took you into her care because she thinks she loves you. Under her care... she'll treat you.

She tries to be as accommodating as she can with her darling. She treats you as a nurse would despite her lack of words. Every once in awhile her actions dip into overly affectionate territory.

Internally she admits it's... unprofessional. Yet Sally just loves you. She promises in a croaking tone that she'll take good care of you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

In her eyes she isn't doing anything "against your will".

You? Well, that's up to you. The answer is most likely yes due to how delusional Sally is by this point.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

A lot. She is incredibly vulnerable around you as you are her second love. She lost her last one... so she is scared of losing you.

As a result her feelings make her linger and cling around you.

She's a ghost who haunts you in trials, even if she means you no harm.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Genuinely saddened. As a result she would try to limit your fighting in the only way she knows how. Limiting your air.

She stops when you stop fighting, apologizing by placing her hand on your cheek and rubbing softly. You're terrified... but she just sees this as restraining a combatitive patient.

Not a game to her, she hates the idea of you escaping... or dying.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Honestly I want to say dying/seeing other survivors dying to her the first time in a trial.

Yet the fact she has this eerie attachment to you as a whole is pretty bad.

You're always the last one left... always waiting for her to confront you... but who knows, you may have seen worse due to these trials.

Sally isn't sure. She sort of wants to recreate what she had with Andrew, yet at the same time she wants to treat you like a patient. She's rather torn between the options.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Partially she does, yes. She'd most likely try to cope, but may lash out if she feels the attachment between you is threatened.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Eerily nice. She seems like she's trying to be comforting. Her touches are freezing, like she's been in the winter cold for too long. Yet the patterns she traces on your skin appear to be comforting.

Things like circles on your back... holding your cheeks... it's like she means to be caring to just you.

It's like she's trying to replicate her old life, her old partner... just to satisfy her delusions.

She actually... isn't all that bad when you comply.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Slowly, trial by trial, until things click. She's constantly jumping between two delusions. She can't tell if she sees you as a romantic partner or a patient.

As a result her actions are rather mixed.

It will take time before she solidifies her feelings... by then you may have gotten used to her.

But nothing could've prepared you for her brewing obsession towards you.

Compared to other survivors? Yes.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

As said by letter F, she'll try to stop your disobedience in the way she's, scarily enough, used to in her lore.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You never had many in the trials anyways, but she tries not to take any.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Quite patient.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

By this point it would be her second heartbreak, she probably would not recover.

Yet that'll never happen in these trials.

No and No.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Most likely her past trauma.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Saddened and sympathetic, she'd immediately try to comfort you.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

She's easier to control (?)

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Appeal to her delusions, you'll get hatch/gate every time.

Unless she decides to keep you longer....

At the start, yes.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

She'd go to great lengths, unsure about worship though.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Not very long, pretty sure she already snapped.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If other trials didn't break you I'm surprised. Soon hers actually become comforting when you give into the madness.

[a-fellow-courier]

Hello Five ☺️ I hope this question is not Insensitive . So you are “they” correct? Initially , I thought this meant you were Many. Now I understand that you are neither male nor female ( meaning you have obtained the powers of both, you can Office and Kitchen, very good). However 🤔 Perchance you are not only Genderless but also Many, which would be Quite Badass 😁

"I know who you are by your tone. Hi June."

"Anyways, yes, that's correct. Special power I have, I am male and female depending on how people see me. it means I can go anywhere, except unauthorized sites on a military base."

"I am both genderless and both genders at the same thing. I think if we weren't in a world with mutated creatures, I'd be put in a mental asylum due to the fact my repeated deaths have messed up my sense of self!"

[stillsoblue]

hello! i hope this isn't a bother, but i was wondering if you had any recommendations for ways we can help the women & girls in afghanistan?? do you know of any charities or shelters we could donate to, or even just petitions we could sign? i know there are lots of options online (women for afghan women, malala fund, etc.) but i wanted to know if you had any you'd personally recommend first. thank you for your time <3

hey! first of all, a huge thank you for considering donating/supporting in any way 💖 some organizations to donate to:

UN women/women for women international — they provide afghan women with essential resources and hold a holistic approach, combining financial aid, vocational training and psychological support to ensure long-term independence and resilience for afghan women.

women’s peace and humanitarian fund (WPHF) — they focus on empowering girls and women during crises, funding women-led organizations working on peacebuilding, humanitarian responses, and protection against gender-based violence. since 2020, they’ve supported over 51 women-led projects with $5.5 million.

CARE — CARE has been on the ground in afghanistan for decades, providing emergency relief, such as food, clean water, and healthcare, especially during crises like the current. they also focus on maternal and reproductive health, ensuring women in rural and underserved areas have access to life-saving care. it actively advocates for gender equality and the protection of women’s rights in afghanistan, pushing for policies that safeguard education and employment opportunities for afghan girls and women.

petitions to sign:

amnesty international petition — am has a petition demanding governments, including the UK, take immediate action to protect afghan women’s rights. their call includes listening to women-led organizations in afghanistan, supporting activists defending women’s rights, and ensuring asylum for those at risk. over 32,300 people have supported this initiative, which is still active.

Change.org Campaigns — multiple petitions on change.org are focused on afghan women’s education, employment rights, and freedom. these petitions aim to influence governments or international bodies to intervene against the taliban’s oppressive policies.

human rights watch actions: HRW frequently hosts campaigns and petitions targeted at addressing the global neglect of afghan women’s rights. they also emphasize holding the taliban accountable for their actions through international law.

ofc, women for afghan women and malala too!these options are the ones i’d personally recommend to amplify your voice and support afghan women who have to face the horrible oppression under the taliban regime. just signing a petition, no donation, can already help to raise awareness and make a change!!

[hummussexual]

Excerpt:

Pinkwashing’s relationship with homonationalism and Orientalism

The pinkwashing carried out by Israeli authorities is based on an Orientalist view that Palestinians remain “backwards” in their stance on homosexuality because apparently, we refuse to emulate the progressiveness of the west. 

To be “gay friendly,” as gender studies academic Jasbir Puar explains, is to be modern, cosmopolitan, developed, first-world, Global North, and, most significantly, democratic – something that Palestinians supposedly do not have the capability of ever achieving.

This erases the agency of Palestinians, especially the progressive forces inside Palestine – including the achievements of queer Palestinian movements. The Orientalist tropes found in pinkwashing also completely disregards the history and legacies of colonialism and modern-day imperialism in the region. It is an example of euro-centric, western exceptionalism – and a pillar of anti-Arab racism.

Pinkwashing and homonationalism also go hand in hand. First coined by Puar in 2007, the concept of homonationalism argues that western LGBTQI+ movements are often bound up with upholding the racist sovereignty of the nation state. Puar argued that neoliberal and capitalist power structures line up with the queer liberation movement by using sexual diversity and LGBTQI+ rights to peddle or maintain nationalist stances – such as anti-immigration policies which are based on prejudices that the “other” are homophobic and that western society is egalitarian.

For Israel, homonationalism is deployed to justify its own exceptionalism and violent oppression of the “other” – in this case, Palestinians. 

Israel flaunts its liberal openness to homosexuality while contrasting it to the sexual oppression among Palestinian society and neighbouring Arab countries. It therefore serves as an excuse for Israel to rationalise its occupation of Palestinians, and to “liberate” oppressed Palestinian queers. The latter is seen through Israel’s myths about “saving” Palestinian queers by “regularly” approving their asylum seeker applications to escape their homophobic and oppressive families or communities in the West Bank or Gaza.

While it’s hard to verify how often these asylum seeker approvals occur, waxing lyrical about their supposed humanitarian work plays into the homonationalist narrative. Since when are immigration authorities – not just in Israel, but any immigration (or border) authority globally – benevolent, progressive entities full of empathy and care? Let alone towards Arabs?

As Queers Against Israeli Apartheid once pointed out, “there is no pink door in the apartheid wall.” This means that like every other Palestinian, LGBTQI+ Palestinians are also at the mercy of Israel’s violent, racist settler-colonial project. This is because queer Palestinians simply do not fit into Israel’s homonationalist quest to uphold the racist sovereignty of its nation state – one where a legally-enforced apartheid system puts only Jewish people at the top of the pyramid.

[a-crumb-of-whump]

what's degrees of lewdity like?? ive been wanting to try it but i don't know whether its something id enjoy

dude. i've been grinding the shit out of this game for the past week or so. It's surprisingly addictive and definitely something that i'd recommend to NSFWhump enjoyers.

Essentially, you're playing as an 18 year old stuck living in an orphanage and trying to make money. There's plenty of ways to do this, some of which are legal and some are not. You'll meet new people and discover new places, along with developing relationships that will help you in the long run.

Click the 'read more' for reasons why i would/would not recommend it:)

Content: Rape/non-con mention, beastiality mention, pregnancy mention, pedophilia mention.

Why i'd recommend it:

The gameplay is incredibly customisable, including all the main characters. You can choose which kinks do and don't appear in the game, adjust body part size limits, what percentage of the population has certain genitalia, and opt in and out of beastiality/monsters. What animals/monsters do and don't appear are also something that's customisable. All this can be changed after the game begins, too.

There is so much whump to enjoy. Whether you enjoy lab whump, stockholm situations, kidnapping, rape, conditioning, etc. there will be something for to enjoy. My personal favourite so far involves being sold to a farmer who keeps you as cattle and slowly transforms you into a cow/bull for milk.

There's things called 'feats' that basically work as achievements. As you progress through the game, you'll earn these by doing certain things for the first time or raising/lowering your stats.

Creating outfits and changing your hair style/colour is so much fun.

While the orphanage is your home, you do find safehouses throughout the game for sleeping, redressing and reducing stress/trauma.

There's sex toys, muzzles and gags. You can gift these to partners or use them for yourself.

The animations during sexual interactions is surprisingly hot.

While you are able to eventually have children, I don't think pedophilia is an option in this game.

Things to watch out for:

You cannot opt out of name calling (slut/bitch/whore/etc.). Characters will do this no matter what your settings are adjusted to.

While the game is very accepting of transgender characters, everyone is still gendered.

While there are people who will rescue you, rape is extremely normalised in this game.

The asylum is probably one of the worst things about this game for me personally. There's a lot of gaslighting and abuse, and it can be triggering for those who've had similar experiences in real life.

Due to it being a text-based game, the day-to-day interactions with people will start to get repetitive.

There's a LOT of grinding to be done when it comes to stats. I personally really enjoy it, but if you're not someone who likes that sort of thing then it's probably not the game for you.

[lonleywriters-blog]

Hi hi!! I was wondering if I could ask for maybe some Gotham villains with an gn s/o whose a juggalo/Juggalette (idk the gender neutral term for them)??? More specifically the ones that are based off of the ICP, a kind of subculture that is characterized by wearing black and white face paint and dressing up as clowns- It’s ok if not!! Have a lovely day/evening/night!

Yess absolutely! I am a fan of ICP myself!

Gotham villains with juggalo/juggalette s/o

I mean the colors match. He loves your outfits and makeup. He will sit on your bed and watch you through your vanity as you paint your face. He will help you find underground places to buy clothes, he can find a clown shop. When the joker is on the rise it's a lot easier to find clown clothes/accessories. The Juggalos and Juggalettes are actually a big thing and Gotham and they will gladly accept you. Dating Gotham mayor may not be the best for your friendships or public figure though. He will be worth it in the end don't worry.

He obviously loves clowns. Your makeup is most likely what drew him to you. He had no idea what ICP was giving him going to the asylum straight out of the circus. He's just going to think it's a cool clown before you explain. After you tell him what ICP is and what Juggalos and Juggalettes stand for he will be super into it. Thinks it super cool and will ask you to do his clown makeup at times. Steals you props all the time. Always gets you the best seats for the concerts.

Victor is somewhat cultured in music, so he knows of ICP. Victor will ask you if you correspond with ICP. Explain what Juggalos and Juggalettes are. He thinks it's super cool. He may paint his face for events if you go. He will buy you tickets to concerts if you want them. He spoils you with whatever you want. Tries to keep it underground because he knows you prefer it.

She thinks you look super cool, that's why she talked to you. She has probably heard some ICP while living on the streets. She wants to help you style your hair and outfits. She helps you pick out lace paint and the best face remover for skin. She steals you the best of the best. She will get you to go wipes and carry them just in case you forget yours. Happy to sneak into a concert with you or tag along if you have an extra ticket.

She thinks the Juggalo/Juggalette look is super intriguing. That's most likely why she struck up a conversation with you. The reason she likes most likely has nothing to do with ICP or the Juggalo/Juggalette thing. She most likely thinks you are super sweet, cool, and attractive. Buys you the cutest shoes, clothes, and accessories. She will do everything in her power to make you happy and she will get you whatever you want. She will let you do a Juggalette makeover to her if you ask.

He thinks you look straight out of a fairytale. He will invite you for tea. Has a black and white clown teddy bear that he gives you. He lovingly supports you but it's not his cup of tea. He will try to get you merch or hypnotize you both into a show. He will get you too shelf face paint that doesn't do anything to the skin.

He thinks that ICP is super cool. He doesn't dedicate himself to saying he's a Juggalo, but he enjoys listening to the band. He will buy you all the CDs and records for you both to share. He won't mind if the apartment is decked out with merch. Will take your chains/belts and shoes off for you. You will softly massage your feet and kiss your shoulder asking how your day was. Eddie never lets you fall asleep in makeup, he will wipe it off for you and tuck you in for bed.

[cannedbeefaroni]

The Bad Touch (Edward Nashton X Reader) (SMUT MDNI)

Part 2

Summary: You are a social worker at Arkham Asylum. The high profile criminal, The Riddler, is assigned as your patient after he's gone through many failed attempts of treatment. You devise a sinister plan to become the only therapist capable of treating Mr. Nashton.

Content: SMUT 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MEDICAL MALPRACTISE, MANIPULATION, POWER IMBALANCE (for those reasons, i consider this fic to be DUBCON), Reader and Edward have a bit of a role reversed Harley Quinn and Joker dynamic, Edward is described to struggle with hypersexuality and paraphilias (based on how the reader is described, they also have those issues), handjob, oral sex, exhibitionism (public sex), physical restraints, degradation

Y/N is referred to in second person as you/yours and is written to be entirely gender neutral.

In order to survive in your line of work you have to be at least a little bit insane. Over the many years of being a therapist at Arkham Asylum you’ve felt yourself becoming a dull, emotionally detached person. It was ironic, considering you went into psychology with the goal of helping people. Despite this feeling, you acknowledged that you were probably the least jaded and cruel social worker in the asylum. Your coworkers thought your methods were ineffective and soft, and your bosses didn’t assign you patients as often as you’d hoped. You liked to think of yourself as an understanding and approachable person, but your qualities weren’t appreciated. Things started looking up, though, once you were assigned a patient for the first time in a while. He was the high profile public enemy, The Riddler, AKA Edward Nashton. He’d been institutionalized several months ago upon his arrest, and in that time he’d gone through countless therapists. They all said the same about him, that he was uncooperative and didn’t seem to want help. You were assigned to be his designated therapist as a last resort. You felt prideful despite knowing you weren’t even close to being the first option. You had never gotten to speak with any high profile criminals like Mr. Nashton, and you were excited about it. 

You expected to be somewhat intimidated by his presence, but he just seemed to be an incredibly depressed and lonely man. According to the others’ notes, you found out that everything he had done as The Riddler was for the sole purpose of validation and attention. He had been diagnosed with OCD and severe C-PTSD. You had no question as to why he’d become the way he is. He was broken by the world around him, and let it corrupt his mind past the point of return. Before speaking to him, you’d heard so much about him being completely insane and “in another world,” but it was as if you were the only one who truly understood him. During your sessions you couldn’t help but feel empathy for him, which was something you tried very hard not to do. You were able to speak to him, but trying to push his boundaries ever so slightly to talk about him being treated, he’d either go silent or push back hard. He kept saying that he didn’t believe anything in this world could fix him, and that he didn’t want to be “fixed.” 

You realized what's hindering his ability to move past all this was crippling loneliness. He had absolutely no family, friends, or acquaintances. You became frustrated knowing that as a therapist, there was no way to help him in that department. Sure, you could encourage him to be more social but beyond that there’s nothing. You had a sinking feeling that in another universe under different circumstances, you could be that person he could lean on. It was wrong to feel that way, and you knew you should’ve passed his case onto a new therapist for that, but you didn’t want to. You needed to prove yourself as capable. You wanted to be the one to get Mr. Nashton to the point of accepting treatment. Medical malpractice was common at Arkham, so you didn’t feel guilty about doing anything it takes to reach your goal. 

You’d remember the times he’d lament about how he felt truly unlovable. You paid extra close attention whenever he discussed his past relationships. He only ever had sex once as a young adult, and afterward he became hypersexual, obsessing over the idea of having sex again. He found it impossible to find another partner once that relationship had ended. In order to combat that loneliness, he became voyeuristic, developing obsessions with people, stalking them, and even sometimes going as far as performing sexual acts on himself in public areas. He grew bashful over discussing those feelings, which you knew were natural, but deep in your mind you thought it was cute, but you were too professional to let those feelings surface in your mind. You could tell that him lacking any romantic or sexual partner for so long was one of the significant factors in his depression. 

Ever since the topic of sex was brought up in your sessions, you had an idea creeping in your mind. At first it disgusted you, but after much contemplation, you decided that it might just be the only thing that will truly get to him. On the day you decided to carry out your idea, you had already perfectly planned the session out in your mind. It would be efficient and practical, you just needed to make sure no one suspected a thing. You collected an arrangement of items you’d need and concealed them in your pockets. You knew no one else would understand, but you had faith in yourself. 

You greeted him in the plain, empty white room you’d become accustomed to. Unlike a typical room used for therapy, there was a table between the two of you, creating a distance. You both sat on quite uncomfortable wooden chairs, and his hands were cuffed behind his back for your safety. There was a tape recorder on the table, which you were sure to be useless, knowing there were much more efficient mics wired throughout the room to record sessions. It was a tool used to either intimidate or comfort patients by either turning it on or turning it off. You never bothered with it. Mr. Nashton sat slumped over as per usual, hanging his head. You looked up at you pensively, as if at this point you’d worn him down to become subservient. You picked up your chair and moved it closer to his, placing yourself in proximity to him in order to connect with him better. You were closer than usual, making him tense. 

“So tell me, how are you feeling today, Edward?” you asked in a blank, professional tone. 

“I, uh,” he mumbled, voice hoarse as if this was the first time he’d spoken in days. “I guess it’s as good as it gets for me.” 

“Which would be bad or good?” 

“Probably bad, but I’m not feeling as terrible as usual.” Edward never really looked you in the eyes when talking, but you didn’t take it personally. 

“Why do you think that is?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m relieved that I have a better therapist now,” he says quietly as if he was hoping you wouldn’t hear him. 

“I’m glad you’re satisfied with our sessions, Edward. I can tell you’ve been opening up more,” you smile, but in a way that looks and feels empty, as if you’re a robot with the sole purpose to act in the correct way. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m satisfied,” he grumbles, trying not to sound gracious. “You just aren’t annoying or pushy like the others. And you’re actually nice to me, unlike those other shitty therapists.” 

“What can I do to make you satisfied?” your choice of words shock you as you spit them out mechanically. You feel perverted, despite what you just said being quite innocent. 

“Nothing, probably.”

You sigh, “look, if you let me, I can try and figure out what works for you. Not everyone needs the same type of care. I’ve been meaning to try out a different approach with you, and I need you to tell me if you want to move forward with it.” 

“What is it, exactly?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly apprehensive. 

“It’s quite… unorthodox, but if you trust me with this, I really think it’ll be of benefit to you,” you say as you perfectly mask all feelings of embarrassment behind a neutral expression. 

“Uhuh,” he says, utterly confused. 

“Do you trust that I don’t want to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable?” you ask.

“I suppose. Yeah.” his voice gets small and quiet. 

You take your clipboard, and begin writing. Edward tries to look over at the paper, but before he can get a peak, you already turn it to let him read it. 

“You can’t make a sound for this. They can hear us. I’m going to partially undress you. Nod if you want me to do it”

Edward’s eyes widen before he glares up at you. He swallows thickly. For the first time this session, he looks you in the eyes. He sits motionless before slowly nodding his head. Red tints his face as he begins to sweat. 

You position your chair so that you’re facing him directly. Your hands begin unbuttoning his jumpsuit swiftly, and you notice his chest rising and falling with his breath rapidly. You can see a bit of his pale, bare torso and underwear underneath. Without wasting any time, you pull down his underwear, exposing his penis. It’s already half erect, and you can’t stop yourself from wondering if he always gets aroused around you. You reach into your pocket and retrieve a small bottle of lubricant, and you squeeze some on your hand before gently placing it on his crotch. Your fingers wrap around the shaft, and he gasps. You shush him, before moving your hand in a jerking motion. You don’t dare to look at his face while doing this, because you don’t want any sort of personal attachment linked to it. You just stare at his erection growing in your hand. His body writhes in his seat, arms squirming in their constraints. You hear him whimper softly, which surprises you. He sounds so unexpectedly sweet. Your other hand goes over his mouth, muffling his noises. 

“I need you to take a deep breath.” Your hand stops moving, gripping his hard cock. He’d been breathing so heavily that his glasses were fogging up. He whines against your hand as his body twitches. He relaxes his body a little, calming down. 

“Please, please, please-“ he begs in whispers. This process is torturous. Him being so pent up, it’s impossible to stay quiet. His dick twitches as precum leaks from the tip. You feel almost guilty, but you know it’ll be worth it in the long run. 

“Do you want to stop?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he whines behind your hand. You really hadn’t considered the possibility of him being this vocal. Not only did it put you at risk of being found out, it was causing you to get needlessly sexually excited. You ignored how uncomfortable your soiled underwear had become, you needed to finish the job. 

You tightly held your hand against his mouth as you jerked him off faster. His hips bucked, fucking himself into your fist. So much precum was leaking that it was getting messy. You worried about leaving evidence behind, so you got on your knees in front of him, pushing his legs open, and slipped his dick into your mouth. You lifted your head for a second to whisper, “stay quiet, or I won’t let you finish.” 

He wants to cry as he watches you take him so deep in your throat. He bites his lip tightly, holding back any moans. Your head bobs in perfect rhythm, and your tongue wraps around his shaft. You shamefully bring your hand to your crotch, rubbing yourself over your pants as you greedily suck his cock. What would everyone else think? They’d say I’m a desperate whore. Maybe I am. But I’m helping him. I’m the only one who can. He needs me. Your self degradation doesn’t help your case in this being purely “professional.” It’s not your fault he sounds so cute and pathetic while fucking your throat, or that his huge cock is filling your mouth so much that you can barely take it. You forget about your own voice as his tip hits the back of your throat. His hips begin rutting into you rapidly, and suddenly he’s cumming down your throat. You hear the clanking of his handcuffs as his arms strain against them behind his back. You shove him in as deep as possible, swallowing everything he’s got. You can’t help but finish in your pants, as your other hand has been over stimulating your body. You stay in that position for a minute, letting his dick sit in your mouth. You carefully get up and grab tissues from your pocket to clean him up, as well as wipe your mouth. Carefully, you dress him back up, and place your seat on the opposite side of the table, sitting as if nothing happened. 

“How was that?” you ask, returning to a robotic voice. 

“I wanna do it again,” he says hoarsely, eyes still wide in disbelief.

Part 2

[commonsensecommentary]

“It is not unreasonable to argue that Americans are now being forced to live in a national mental asylum created for them courtesy of the madmen, madwomen, and variously gendered crazies now driving our country into economic, cultural, and military ruin for reasons that escape all rational explanation.”