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#it. it was meant to be a clean color doodle...

doodle-throb · 9 months

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Playing Drums

NSFW Moe Doodle x GN!Reader

Warnings: BJ’s, Dom reader, begging, cum swallowing, almost caught

This was filthy. Absolutely filthy. You had Moe pinned against the wall with your hand between his thighs. You genuinely have no idea how things escalated to this. One minute, you’re watching him play drums and the next, the two of you are all over each other. And in the music room, no less. How utterly shameless.

Moe’s face was becoming more and more red with each second, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. “Uhm, (Y/n)? What are you doing?” He croaked out between heavy breaths.

“I can’t control myself anymore…” You mumble, beginning to kiss and bite lightly at his neck while continuing to rub his inner thigh. You were rewarded with an erotic sound escaping Moe’s throat. He quickly clasped a hand over his mouth, embarrassed to have made such a noise.

Moe’s eyes dart to the door and he looks at you, worried. “Um, (Y/n)? You should stop that... DeeDee and Rooney might come back and see us...”

You scoffed, “Let them watch then. I can’t help it. I want you.” Moe recognized the dangerous look in your eyes and knew exactly what you meant. You could feel his cock begin to harden underneath the thin fabric of his brightly colored pants.

Moe groans and shifts his legs uncomfortably. “Let’s make it quick then.”

You smirk and unzip his pants, resuming your relentless attacks to his neck. Moe began to whimper with pleasure as you begin to play with his tip with your fingers, sliding your pointer between the slit. He shudders, releasing a shaky breath and lolling his head back against the wall. “Mngh… (Y/n), please.”

“Please what?” Moe can feel your smile against his neck.

He sighs in frustration. “Please, please, please.”

“C’mon,” you jeer, “use those big boy words.” You grip your entire fist around his length, causing him to gasp in surprise.

“Mmngh… Pretty please… your mouth…” He whimpers.

You kiss his lips once, before getting in your knees in front of his. You take the tip in your mouth and swirl your tongue around it. Moe whimpers and tries to thrust his hips forward, but you push him back and steady them against the wall. He looks down at you with dazed eyes, taking in the erotic sight of his dick in your mouth.

You bob your head up and down his length, taking as much in your mouth as you can. The sweet sound of Moe’s muffled whimpers and whines fill the room as you suck him off at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“Please, please, please, pretty please,” He groans, “Faster, god please, faster!”

You oblige him and pick up the pace. He shudders again with pleasure. Faster and faster, your mouth moves up and down his dick. Moe’s whines grow louder and louder, signifying he’s about to reach his max. He grips your hair and pushes your head down further on his cock, unable to control himself anymore.

“I’m so close… (Y/n)… gonna cum…”

You slow down as he ejaculates in your mouth, his tip hitting the top of your mouth and shooting his load down your throat. You can feel his dick pulse in your mouth with each squirt. You lick around his tip and swallow, ignoring the salty aftertaste to lick the rest of his dick clean.

“Moe? (Y/n)? We’re back!” DeeDee calls out from down the hall.

Moe scrambles to zip up his pants as you stand up and wipe any trace of his cum from your lips. The two of you compose yourselves just in time for the doors to swing open.

“Geez, you two look awfully tired. What were you up to?” DeeDee asks as she enters with Rooney trailing behind her.

You and Moe glance at each other awkwardly.

“Playing drums.”

#moe doodle x reader #moe doodle #the doodlebops #doodlebops #what is wrong with me #self indulgent #fanfic #oneshot #smut

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dying-marshmallo · 2 months

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for the wip game-

taking a moment (i’m better) or period pain???? 👀

☆ OUF... this one is ugly since it was hastily doodled before I forget the idea, but I can explain what I was trying to do... (This is one I really wanna clean up eventually if I ever get the motivation!) ~ taking a moment (i'm better)

☆ So you know those moments where you feel like...bad? And you go for a drive, and everything feels terrible, but you look out the window, and the view is so nice you just think, huh, i think i'm happy i'm alive...? That's what this wip was going to turn out to be but then I never finished it so...!!

☆ I had like colors I wanted to pick out and what the pretty scene would be, and I had a small storyline for the image (roadtrip meant to make Leo feel better cause he's like...depressed...) i'll pick this up again, maybe one day, hopefully!

#🖍 my art #💌 asks

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katiekatdragon27 · 4 months

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Guys sorry, I am not immune to Hazbin/Helluva propaganda. I am also not immune to criticizing the designs and character motivations.

So! Let’s start with one of the most redesigned characters in the show: Beelzebub^^

So, sorta hot take, I really like the idea behind Beelzebub in the show. Ik "boo tomato tomato," but hear me out. I like how she is meant represent the hellhounds she rules over (ik she actually is a reference to Jay Jay, but let me have this connection PLEASE). However, the source material is very bug-like and compact.

The HB Beelzebub is NOT that bug like. Or compact.

With this redesign, I decided to pick all the stuff I liked about the og, and what I wanted to see more of. I kept her colors and general vibe but made her more built like a bumble bee with more inspo from the fly Beelzebub.

This is what I got.

Progress doodles n stuff below cut (it's gonna be an essay, y'all know the drill):

(She was much sharper in the sketch lol)

DESIGN EXPLANATION:

Anyways, I always imagined Beelzebub to be, y'know, more BEE like. The show did not give me that, so I did it myself. I made her wings bigger, gave her an actual bee tail and face (with the proboscis and stinger too), and more stripes and fluff. I also made her small and slightly chubby. Gotta hone the bumble bee.

I thought the hair made the original design too cluttered, but I wanted to keep the party colors. To compromise, I stuck all the goop in her tail. It sort of works like a firefly's abdomen and a lava lamp. I also nullified her cloths, so they would blend more with the body and help pop the neon colors in her eyes, antenna, and tail.

When she stands at her normal form, she is the smallest of the sins. But when she is in her "true" form (that I have not illustrated yet), she is the biggest of the sins. This is a reference to how gluttony starts small but gets really large over time, both mentally and physically.

As for additional details, I wanted to keep her "foxness". So in a brilliant brainstorm of ideas, I came up with the concept of "Masks". Basically, all the sins I'll redraw will have them. The masks are meant not only to represent their hellborn, but to represent how the sins pretend to be good things at first.

Stuff like "Rest a little more, it won't hurt" and "Be proud and don't care for what others say" are how they present on the surface, but if you continue those mindsets in a toxic way, it turns into sloth and pride and stuff instead of self-care and being proud of things.

For Bee specifically, it's "Have a little more, you deserve it!" and she has a hell-hound/fox mask. This also feeds into her personality change.

PERSONALITY CHANGES:

In the og, she's a party animal who cares for... moderation??? Yeah, I hate this about Helluva Boss. Why is it so hard to write *sshole/negligent people in power and why is it only Mammon who's allowed to be like this? Give me more morally dark grey powerful people!

That's where Bee is different for the redesign. She runs te lowest ring in hell and is in charge of hellhounds, the lowest species in hell. B/c of this, she is much more lenient compared to the higher ranked sins in hell, which is why she is often seen talking and hanging out with lower classes. (She gets slack for this from the other sins). She is also the only sin who has had open relations with lower class citizens all the way down to hellhounds. However, none of them last. Most of her relations outside of the sins are one-night stands and flings.

As for how she sorta sucks: she is still a party animal, yes, but she purposely chooses to be blind and ignore all the suffering that occurs at the parties. People have fun, but they overindulge, and as a result get sick, sad, and violent. However, Bee leaves the parties before they get this way. She does not want to see it. She is negligent. When she comes back to the party aftermaths, she quickly gets her workers to clean everything, so she does not have to discover anything gruesome and sad. She just wants to live, party, and see people "happy". (Sort of like Gatsby's parties minus the pining for a single woman who does not care for her).

... I wonder what would happen if that mental image she had shattered? I guess only the future will tell.

But anyway, if you have any questions or characters you recommend I design or redesign, feel free to ask lol.

I hope this made at least a little sense. Have a lovely day^^

#beelzebub is probably one of my favorite sins in the show aesthetically #but it's so cluttered and looked so painful to animate #also having her be stout and fluffy seemed so novel to me #no more skinny girls with thick thighs give me tiny girls with thick everything #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #helluva boss #helluva fanart #helluva beelzebub #helluva beelzebub redesign #redesign #character redesign #vivziepop #helluva redesign #helluvaboss #also if you don't like this please don't comment that #i don't need that negativity in my life this is just for fun #katiekatdragon27

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harmonytre · 6 months

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So uh- I may have done a thing. I meant for this to be a simple sketch to figure out how I'd distinguish the RK brothers in my style, but then I ended up cleaning it and fully toning it haha! It was surprisingly calming to do and the result is woah- (I may still do a color version tomorrow, just so I can color pick for future doodles and chibis.)

#detroit become human #rk800 #rk900 #rk800 60 #Connor #Nines #Sixty #dbh #dbh connor #dbh nines #dbh sixty #HarmonyTRE #dbh fanart

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creedslove · 9 months

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Hear me out on this! Marcus is coming home from a terrible day at work, he is expecting his wife and daughter to be busy with their own stuff (Marcus is a girl dad and I will die on that hill) but he comes in to see his small child wearing one of his suits, and she is pretending to be him. Marcus cannot help but feel emotional, but even more when his daughter says he is her hero and she wants to be just like him. Marcus is totally asking for another baby after that. ~🌹Anon

Marcus Pike x f!reader

A/N: 🌹 anon this is beautiful ❤️🥺

• Marcus is a man who leaves home to work already thinking about the time he gets to come back, because we can barely wait for it, he is happy man who's got a beautiful wife and daughter and finally work isn't the only substantial thing in his life

• But he still needs to work his ass off, because he's the head of the department and he's a good agent so good results are expected from him, some cases end up well and some don't, some are easier than the others and some are simply a nightmare

• the thing he hates the most in the world is having to get home late, he hates to arrive after dinnertime because he misses important moments with his family

• one of his favorite times to spend with his daughter are the meals because he finds so cute how his toddler eats, she is like a little princess, eating off her beautiful colorful plate, chewing things up slowly like she was taught by you and being overall adorable

• he doesn't have a reason to why he likes that so much, but he does and he loves his daughter and he's the best dad in the world so that's awesome

• not to mention that whenever he gets home after hours, his beautiful princess is already asleep

• he watches her sleeping, stroking the same beautiful hair she inherited from you but it pains him that he can't listen to her sweet voice and having her watching him with attentive eyes

• and your daughter on the other hand misses her daddy all the time, he is all she ever talks about, and she waits by the window every single evening, in hopes to see his car parking in the driveway

• Marcus had been so stressed out you decided to leave that out and not mention it, it would only break his heart and make him feel guilty, but his absence was also something you hated and you missed your husband too

• when it was laundry day, you separated Marcus' business suit to take them to the dry cleaner in order to get them perfectly clean but you were so caught up in other activities, you left them on the couch and forgot about them

• when your daughter saw her daddy's clothes, she immediately got curious and went to check on them, giggling as they smelled like her daddy

• she hadn't seen him for a couple of days, since Marcus left before she was up and got home after she was in bed, her little heart missing him too much, she had the idea of putting the jacket suit on

• and that was exactly how Marcus found his daughter once he got home: a tiny little toddler with a huge gigantic suit jacket on pretending to be him in a work meeting and doodling on a paper while you made dinner in the kitchen

• Marcus' head hurt from the stress and the unpleasant moments he spent at work, but all of it just disappeared and went away the moment he spotted that scene, it made his heart overwhelmed with love

• he walked to his daughter who widened her eyes the moment she noticed her dad and dropped everything she was doing, in order to rush to him and snuggle him tight

• the way she squealed 'daddy' and ran to his arms was too much for him, lifting her up and placing kisses all over her beautiful face, he snuggled his daughter

• when Marcus put her down, she grabbed the drawing she was working on, it was a drawing of him, in a suit and a cape, and she explained to him he was her favorite hero because her mommy had told her daddy's job was to catch bad guys

• he was at a loss of words, he felt tears coming into his eyes as that sweet innocent little girl meant the world to him and she wasn't even aware of it

• Marcus decided to talk to you later, perhaps it was time for you two to have another baby, life was perfect with one adorable kids, but he would love to have a second one, a little baby who would have the best big sister in the world and the prettiest mommy too

• he also knew that he would have to find a way to be more present and get home earlier because he was missing out on a lot of things and that was not how he wanted things to go

• Marcus took the drawing with him to work the next day and kept it in the office so it would give him motivation to work more and more, after all, that was the most precious work of art he could ever have

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x y/n #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike headcanons #marcus pike headcanon

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marblegroves · 8 months

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Just saw your sketchbook post and I am amazed at how clean it all looks O_O /pos

So I was wondering, what materials do you use for your traditional drawings (all the stuff from sketch to final piece)?

BOY AM I GLAD YOU ASKED THIS *ahem*

Behold 😌

For the sketchbook pages, I mainly stuck to these materials though ^^ these guys are my…

PRIMARY MATERIALS

The green mechanical pencil on the picture on the left has 0.7mm colored lead in it! I alternate between blue and pink colored leads depending on what fits the overall color of the piece better.

Once I finish up the sketch, I line it with the black pilot ballpoint pen! I really like the control and feel of ballpoint pens for traditional lineart, because it gives a sort of variety in pressure I can’t seem to achieve with normal fineliners. I like to switch up the colors of the lineart too sometimes, hence the pink and red ballpens.

Then once the linearts done, I color them in with the stabilo highlighters, as pictured on the right! These guys are my FAVORITES. Sometimes when I’m just freely sketching I use the grey or peach mini stabilos. Although, they do tend to be a bit runny, ‘cause they’re meant for quick highlights and not multiple strokes over an area ^^; so you do have to be careful and quick when coloring with them to get an even coat of color!

Sometimes, though, when there are other colors or textures I want in a drawing, I use my…

SECONDARY MATERIALS

Pictured above are all my alcohol based markers! The four on the left are neon sharpies for when I need that extra eyestrainy kick. The three promarkers with the pointy cap were from when I was a freshman in uni and wanted to collect a full set of alcohol markers, but these were the only colors they had in stock and the college supply store ✌️ I’ve since given up on that dream because they were really expensive ;; they’re really good for sunny grassy scenes though! The last dark blue marker was from a set of other blue markers, but the others have since dried out… I use it when I really wanna darken up a page, like for night scenes!

This is my prismacolor set! I like to pair these with the markers, going in after the initial layer of color to give a bit of variety or shine. Some examples of when I use them would be for adding blush or giving hair a glossy sheen 👍

These ones are my “fuck it” materials lmao

I use these when I really just wanna scribble something down wildly. I had these since I was in gradeschool and its quite frankly a miracle they still work? Oh, and the red and yellow twistable crayolas are missing because I vaguely remember giving them to some childhood friends for some reason 🤔

My fineliners and gellyrolls! Haven’t used these much recently tbh. I’d used them for class before, but I never really likes how flat the thickness tends to be :/ the brush tips and chisel tips are cool though. I used them for that one yellow bdubs doodle to try and see if my opinion of them has changed ^^ it hasn’t. Moving on…

Lastly, we have the special materials! The ones that don’t really go into any sets, or have nice applications. In order from left to right:

Wink of Stella - A brush pen that applies glitter through some sort of black magic. No idea how she works but I love her

Red Marvy Art Director 1400 - A red fine tip marker. Can’t go wrong with a bright red marker 👍

Golden Posca - My only posca marker. Figured if I should get one it might as well be something special.

Faber Castell Blue Highlighter - I use this alongside the stabilos. It has a really nice deep blue color ^^

And well! That should be everything! ^^ Thanks for giving me an avenue to gush about my materials lmao 🥰

#well that was cathartic #ramblegroves

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moonstarlupinsworld · 1 month

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For her and the world [PT. 2]

Ms. Weems X Wednesday X Reader

(Platonic relationship)

TW: Aftermath of poisoning, mentions of death, hospital, past trauma.

A/N: Can you believe it took me over a year to realize that meant "author notes? And I'm in Ravenclaw, imagine that! Anyway, I just want to say I've been working on this for a while but didn't know the right way to portray what I wanted, that's why it took so long, but it's finally here.

Summary: It’s been almost two days since Ms. Thornhill decided to attack. Nevermore was a mess, but the students stopped the fire before things got even worse. But Ms. Weems can’t feel that calmness, not with you still unconscious at the hospital, trying your best to stay alive.

Whoever said that dying was a painless process clearly has lied. The excruciating pain and the burning sensation of your lungs not getting enough air accompanied you as your brain finally detached from anything that could connect it to consciousness. You’ve often tried to imagine this exact moment, especially when you lay in bed, motionless and simply thinking about existence. In your altered mind you thought it was quick, and that as soon as you closed your eyes you entered whatever the afterlife was like.

The reality was you entered some sort of dream. A dream about your life… At least that part was right, your brain decided to show you all the good moments before shutting down forever.

It didn’t take much for the first memory to enter, and it wasn't a good one. You were around five, sitting on the floor with your toys all around your bedroom. Everything was quiet, the cassette mom had left for you still playing in the background.

“Everything you care about will burn to the ground!” you heard someone say in the office, “and in the process, everyone you love will be lost too.”

It sounded like… No, he couldn’t be here, not after saying all those mean things to mom. So you ignored it, trying to find the doll you’d left somewhere so she could sit on the wooden train.

The door barged open, and there he was. His pupils were dilated, and he was sweating, barely blinking like a deer caught in the headlight, he almost looked like a maniac. Before you could react, he rushed to you and grabbed you by the arm in a rough movement, forcing you to stand up. You started crying as he frantically packed many toys in a bag, moving around and grabbing random clothes from your closet, dragging you around.

“We’ll go… safe, I’ll keep you safe”, he whispered, “your mom thinks this school is everything… She didn’t even want you in the first place… I locked her in the office, just to have more time”.

You tried to scream, kick, get out of his forceful grip around your wrist, but you couldn’t. What was he doing to you? He promised never to use his powers on you, he pinky swore.

It was even more stressful to re-watch it from the outside, knowing that you couldn’t help that little kid in front of you.

Thankfully, Larissa had managed to break the door lock, and was quick to use her high heel to knock him out, a clean hit to the head was enough.

“My sweet little child” she whispered, carrying you in her arms, trying to ease your shaky state “There, there… Mom’s here, darling… No one shall harm you again.”

Ever since then, you used that bedroom as an office for any teacher who might need it. You were moved to one of the other three rooms in the small apartment hidden behind her office. And your bedroom was just a playroom now since you hated sleeping on your own again.

After that, all the memories went by quickly. You were around six when they found you covered in Larissa’s makeup, marker doodles all around your clothes, and your hairstyle with new bangs (made by yourself). You saw yourself with mom at her important meetings, taking notes in your notebook with colored pens. Dancing with her cassettes and different vinyls late at night, singing along. Cooking your favorite foods together…

You were a straight A’s student, the pride of every academy you attended, and the perfect, shy kid who never created major chaos. Everyone around you would say how lucky Ms. Weems was to have you as her child.

And of course, how could you not be perfect? You’ve seen her cry, knowing how hard it was to achieve that. You’ve heard the comments people made about her and the school. You’ve seen how much it took her to be where she was. You had to make the path as easy as you could for her, so she didn’t have to worry with you. When you were old enough to enter Nevermore, the distance between you got wider. You found your friends and were not sleeping that often at her quarters anymore. Thankfully, she realized it before it was too late, and you started being close again.

All this small presentation was coming to an end, and before you could feel it, the last slide came by. It was late at night, and you were back at her quarters, helping with emails she had to send.

“Y/n/n?” Larissa asked, looking at you with a smile, which you half replied, not taking your eyes from the laptop, “I don’t know if I have ever said this out loud, but I have never felt luckier in my life”

“Really?” you asked, distracted, signing the last email and sending it, “Did the chief finally give up on the whole ‘mysterious creature thing’?”

She laughed before asking you to turn off the computer. You did so, and she grabbed your hand. Even if you were just looking, you could almost feel her warm, comforting touch.

“I feel lucky because I got you, silly child” she replied, looking at you with proud eyes, “you are everything to me, and honestly I don’t think I would have been able to endure much of what I did without you… I’m so proud of you”...

Everything went dark and empty, and after being in some sort of shock, accepting your own death, you panicked. No, you didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not alone in the dark. You’ve sacrificed yourself for the better, and now you were whining like a child. Does that make you a weak person? Does that invalidate your sacrifice?

Darkness surrounded you no matter the direction you took. Running in circles, you tripped with your foot, falling face first to the ground. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your breathing shallow as you tried to find something to ground you. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, only silence. A silence so deep you could hear your breathing, you could listen to your thoughts clear like water. Nothing was real. What was going on?

Your senses, overwhelmed, begged for the torture to stop. There was no purpose in trying to stand up, so you curled up in a ball, hugging your knees and closing your eyes. Every time you were feeling down, scared, or sad, Larissa had been there for you. She was always there, holding your hand, stroking your hair to calm all your aches down. You felt like that helpless child you once were, trying to find her in this nightmare.

“Y/N?” An echoed voice flew across the emptiness, “I’m back, all right? I won’t go away anymore, promise”.

Your eyes opened, searching for the source of the sound. It was only you, the ground, and the darkness… After brushing away the tears with a rough hand movement, you listened, staying still.

“I spoke with the cops again… they say it might be better for us to hide after you get better, just in case” she whispered. You recognize that voice, vaguely. “Donovan said you were really brave back there… Of course you were, you always are…”

Where was she? Sitting up, you keep on trying to find the source of her voice. You are sure now, that’s mom. Her voice started cracking as she revealed all the things that had happened since the first attack, how she rushed to the hospital and almost lost you twice. How you were connected to a bunch of things and in a state of deep sleep (she feared to called it the real name just in case you could understand you wouldn’t get scared). The attack at midnight at Nevermore, how the students were forced to escape in a very short amount of time. Thankfully not many people were injured severely.

The best part was that you were able to help after all. Thanks to the video, the police department had been on patrol nearby the school all evening, and reacted quickly when things went south.

After a brief pause, she spoke to you about… yourself. She missed your jokes, your smile, the interesting conversations you used to have during tea time, and the pictures saved in your shared album “Mom and me”. She felt guilty, ashamed of not being able to protect you and standing still as Ms. Thornhill stabbed you with the venom, her body only reacting as your knees buckled and you dropped to the ground half conscious.

“...But I don’t know why am I even talking about this… I think you are not able to hear me, darling” she said in a sad whisper, clearing her throat so her voice wouldn’t break again “I miss your voice, y/n/n… My sleepy kitten.”

But you were there! You could hear her loud and clear, why was she saying all of that?

“Mom I’m right here, I can hear you!” You yelled, but no words left your mouth. Only a strained yell, making you sound like a squeaking mouse. “Mom I can hear you! Get me out of here, please!”

Standing up, you try to yell again, to make her notice you. How was she talking to you but you couldn’t see her? This was not funny, it was simply terrifying. You wanted to speak, to scream for help. After trying with no result for your voice to be heard, you started to give up… after what seemed like ages, you decided it was not worth it, curling up again. You started to feel sleepy. Was it possible to sleep in a dream?

“Mom I’m scared! Please…” you choke up on your tears, sobbing “ I want to wake up… help… please, someone help…”

After a long time (you didn’t know how much exactly) you woke up, still in that nightmare. Trapped inside your mind, what a fun experience! Groggily you stretched, your ears trying to seek for the known voice of Ms. Weems.

But she was nowhere to be found, and instead you were left with another. After a few minutes of listening you realized who it was: Wednesday.

“I thought you would be awake by now. After all, you have proven to be extremely strong Y/N” there was a small hint of a kind note in her voice, “Thank you for covering me during the personal investigations… I should have known that the outcome of everything would be bloody and disastrous.”

You smiled. After all you did, it seemed like Wednesday and you were friends. You were glad her first year wasn’t as horrible as she had imagined.

Someone knocked on the door before entering, greeting the raven-haired girl good morning. The first minutes an uncomfortable silence filled the room before Ms. Weems took lead of the conversation.

“I’m glad to see you again, Ms. Addams”

“I was only hoping to be able to say my farewells and thank them ” she explained “I won’t be able to see them until the next term of your torturous school begins”.

Even if you were not able to see them, you could bet almost anything that comment made your mom smile. She was happy, even if she didn’t wished to admit it, that Wednesday had survived the whole term at the school.

“I will be happy to see you again” Ms. Weems replied, before adding “And, Wednesday?”

She looked her in the eye, knowing what Larissa was about to do, but before trying to stop her, the principal continued.

“Thank you. First, for saving my child… If you hadn’t took out the syringe before the entirety of the liquid was inside them… I don’t even wish to imagine what could have happened… And second, for saving Nevermore. You are an extraordinary, gifted, and intelligent girl… I am sure your mother will be proud”

This time, Wednesday stood still for a second, before thanking them with embarrassment and asking for her not to do that again in the foreseeable future. Ms. Weems choked out a laugh, trying still to understand what could be going inside the young girl’s brain.

Wednesday searched in her pockets for something, and after a few seconds she took out a phone, handing it to Ms. Weems, who took it not fully understanding. With the faintest of blushes, she cleared her throat, looking at the principal.

“I was wondering if Y/N has one of those things Enid seems to enjoy so much… So I could write to them, once they are awake… Insta-gram, I think” after a few seconds of silence, she added, like defending herself “I’m still getting used to having one of those.”

With a subtle nod, Ms. Weems searched for your profile, followed you on that phone and handed it back to the black-haired girl. She thanked her, said her farewells, and left. Larissa was quite amused at the ever so mysterious girl being more into social media, and how flustered she looked when admitting she knew nothing about those things. Even the one with the darkest hearth had a sweet inside, even if they don’t usually admit it, she thought.

But after the minutes of amusement, the tears came back to her already red eyes. She had never seen more undone. Her always flawless hair was messy, half combed into a bun. Her face pale, dark circles fully visible under her tired eyes. Her hands were cold, but she rubbed them one against the other to warm them up. Yours were as cold as ice, she only wished for you to feel a bit warm.

The nurse had come early in the morning and announced you were responding to the treatment, and changed your oxygen mask for a cannula. It was now up to you wheter you woke up in a few minutes or hours. That got Larissa’s hopes up, before realizing maybe you were not ready to wake up yet.

She announced the good news, grabbing your hand and rubbing gentle circles on it. Trying to motivate you, she started thinking out loud places where you could hide. A few sobs were heard as she kept rambling, trying not to break down again in the sight of an unpredictable future.

This was enough right? You were making everyone so worried, and mom had stated the fact you needed to hide as soon as you were in good shape again. You had to try to wake up, for her. The world was no longer in danger. And even if it was, you didn’t think it mattered anymore. You tried to get control of your body… And then you felt it, a warm sensation around your hand. Slowly, you were beginning to feel again.

“You see? I told you Wednesday wanted to be your friend. After all the mischiefs you conjured during the past months I woulnd’t expect anything else” She sighed, grabbing your hand, “could you please show me you are still in there, kitten?”

Just a sign. You could do that… How, you had no idea. After a few minutes of what you thought useless attempts, the darkness dissipated, leaving space for a very bright light.

“I felt your hand moving, great job Y/N” she encouraged you, happy tears streaming down her face, “You can do it darling, just open your eyes.”

It took a lot out of you, but somehow you managed to escape your prison. Your eyes opened slowly, squinting a bit as you adjusted your vision to the bright room. Groaning, you started feeling your senses again.

What happened? Where is this place?

“...Mom?” you asked in a whisper, still lost and half-asleep.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” she reassured you, stroking your hair. “Welcome back, sleepy kitten.”

With a vague smile you simply let her stroke your hair as you finished understanding everything that was going on. Then, aware of your surroundings, you cleared your throat. Still, not a noise came out.

“It will take some time, don’t worry” mom’s voice explained, “you just woke up from a really long nap, after all”.

The first meal you had after being entirely on IV therapy was glory. It wasn’t much, true, but you felt like it been ages since you ate something. Your body was recuperating, and you had no major side effect, aside from the weakness and the fact you were not able to walk five steps without falling over. But it could be worse, right?

You wrote to Wednesday as soon as you were allowed to have your phone back, and it was so funny to see how many accidental typos she made, or how many times she would send weird stickers. After a few weeks you were given the all clear, finally ready to go to your new home. Where? That was gonna be fun to find out. Thankfully mom was able to infiltrate on her office, grabbing two bags full of clothes and other important stuff, so you were not able to miss any of your favorite stuff.

Your sacrifice was for her, and you were happy you took the risk, even if now you are weak and might need some aid when walking. The mystery was over, everything was good.

Things won’t last much like that, sure, but for now it was time to rest and see where destiny would take you.

#wednesday addams #larissa weems #hurt/comfort #hospital #fanfic #wednesday fanfic

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prismarine-dungeon · 1 year

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okay hi

so recently I've been in a bit of an art block, mostly with designing. this lead to me deciding I wanted to design concepts based on skins I know nothing about, and what better than lifesteal? i think I've watched at most One video from someone from that, so it meant I'd have no bias or fanon ideas

I had asked @aroaceacacia for some skins on anon, so here's a leowook and ashswagg

explanations and thoughts below the cut, since this'll be a bit rambly

okay so leowook

I decided to start with sketching the symbol on the face over and over in a notebook until I got something I could work with, and that landed me with the eye. It's slightly tilted on the face, as to match the symbol better. I went with a nice yellow to make it stand out, but I didn't plan that initially. I didn't intend it at first, but the eyebrow and mouth also help to make a shape with the pupil of the eye reminiscent of the symbol :D

In that early sketching phase, I also kept making him fluffy. I'm not really sure why, but it kept reoccurring, so I ran with it. I ended up giving him more animal-like legs and paw feet to keep the appearance. Though subtle, there's a gradient and freckles on the legs, as well as freckles on the face and a gradiant on the bang. I ended up messing with the colors on those a lot, since originally he looked too yellow. He was going to get a tail as well, tbh, but I felt like he didn't really need that, he worked better as a completely ambiguous fluffy guy.

On clothing, he and ashswagg are kinda, unintentionally, influenced by the different series I've been into lately- dishonored, assassins creed, and thief, but most notably the former. For leowook, I looked up suits on pinterest until I found this interesting one with a similar top piece, though it had a longer tailcoat with pockets on the sides. I was going to keep those, but I wasn't happy with how it was coming out, so I kept the parts I liked. I also made the pants into shorts, so I could show off the legs more. The suit in the image also had an ascot, so I decided to get a little silly with it and turn his tie into one. I know it likely doesn't make sense, but I don't care. Last things of note are the fact that I turned the buttons gold as to match the skin and added some onto the pants. There's also the belt with the pouch, but it was kinda an afterthought, so if I were to ever come back and reevaluate these concepts, this is something I'd completely redo

After I finished him, I was having fun and doodled him a little. Nothing too clean or anything, just things for fun

ashwagg

ashswagg ashswagg ashswagg. this guy gave me so many troubles. I'm not happy with how he turned out, but i think i shouldnt do anymore work on him.

initially, I wanted to go with something more galaxy/space inspired. I'm not sure what it is, but the silver and gold in there made me think of stars. however, I couldn't settle on a way to execute it. I wanted to make him space, but I also wanted to make his clothes space, but I also wanted him to just be a fuckign guy, but like make him very obviously not human in such a subtle way. I wanted to give him long hair, but also long hair just felt wrong somehow. eventually i just ended up getting to a point where I just put something on the canvas and I'd work with it.

with his hair and face, I wanted to obscure any face he could have. all I wanted visible was his mouth, partially because I kept playing with the idea in my head that he doesn't have a face under there, only a void or glitch or just an uncomprehensible darkness over where eyes should be. I tried to make the hair resemble his face, but I had trouble balancing that effect with the desire to cover his face how I wanted. one of my favorite concepts I played with was greasy emo punk kid who's bangs are so long they obscure his line of site, but I feel like it got a but lost.

if I were to reattempt him, I'd give him that greasy hair, but instead of the long bangs, a mask that covers most of his face or something. play with a weird balance of teenage menace and cool minecraft oc design.

with the outfit, I veered away from suits to coats and jackets. I just knew I wanted to go with something long (which, as you can see, didn't stay). I had saved a few different references, but the ones of note were this cool sleeveless coat thing and, essentially, the little hood he has on. attempt after attempt lead me to nix the first image and just use the hood for ideas. another concept I played with was a shoulder cape, like the ones ezio auditore wears in most of his games, but I wasn't feeling it.

with the colors, I wanted to make his skin a shade of purple, because I thought it'd be something fun to play with. his hair ended up, by process of elimination, this almost black color with a brighter purple on the tips. the rest of the outfit ended up being a similar palette, with barely thought out pattern concepts thrown on to try to grasp onto the color balance present on the skin. I think it could have worked if I had managed to get a glitch effect to work, especially if the glitch effect was a more purple-toned one, but as is it kinda just falls flat.

a fun detail, his kneepads were intended to be made out of a material like crying obsidian. I just thought it'd be neat. also, the hood on the cape I ended up giving the beak shape we see on assassins from ac, because it's silly to me and I thought itd fit. I was also planning on doing after doodles, but I ended up deciding against that by the time I finished

overall ashswagg ended up being an underbaked concept with too many things thrown in. hes the vanilla extract design of these two, if you will. in typing this, I did consider the idea of 'okay but what if I made him a kinda fucked up wizard thing with greasy emo hair' and that's an interesting avenue.

this was a lot of fun to do, despite some unhappiness here and there. that's the nature of concept designs and stuff, not every one is gonna be a winner. just means that you can eventually work out what you don't like later on.

and honestly, this experiment has given me a good perspective for future endeavors like this with my mcyt ocs. it's interesting to think about how a fandom would interpret them, and this'll give me a neat perspective on that. maybe I'll do similar studies and post those some day

#my art #lifesteal #mcyt concept art #leowook #ashswagg #while typing this i also considered ash with way too many eyes #so many possibilities #so little attempted #maybe if i feel like it ill try again with him #also to anyone who read all that #hi #i hope you enjoyed my 1 or so am thoughts

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summercourtship · 10 months

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stay to burn (only to drown instead): chapter six: karma [part I]

masterpost | ao3 link

jonathan crane x reader; bruce wayne x reader; edward nashton x reader | warnings: canon typical violence, sexual content (actual smut here)| word count: 5712 words

DISCLAIMER: these chapters are not meant to be read alone. not every chapter has content for one of the three pairings listed. this is an ongoing fanfiction that I am cross-posting here on tumblr, not a series of one-shots.

chapter one |

A stray drop of water hit the crown of your head, pulling you out of the dazed stupor you’d slowly put yourself. You’d been keeping yourself occupied by doodling absentmindedly without really looking at the paper, which was the only way to survive the longer shifts. You peered upwards, frowning at the small wet spot on the ceiling, another drop slowly getting ready to fall. Of course, there was a leak in the store’s ceiling. You grimaced, rubbing the water into your hair before you thought about the fact that the convenience store was on the bottom floor of a four story building. Meaning that the liquid on your head probably wasn’t rain water. Or if it was, it had been a long time since it had actually fallen from the sky.

You stepped to the side just in time for the second drop to fall and hit the floor.

“Ugh.”

You leaned against the counter, staring at the yellowed clock on the opposite wall of the store, the numbers barely visible behind its musty surface. It was probably your job to clean it but at this point it would be more efficient to just replace it and heaven knows that nobody at the store was going to spend the money to get a new one. So you were stuck with the gross clock, squinting at it to make out the time. You’d been in the store for barely three hours and yet it was like an entire day had already gone by.

Only a week had passed since Spring Break had ended, meaning only a week had passed since you’d visited Arkham. On its own, it would have been a fairly uneventful day if not for the surprised job offer from Jonathan, which you put in the back of your mind to think about later. And also coming face to face with Edward Nashton.

It wasn’t like you had forgotten that he currently lived in the asylum, it had just seemed unlikely that you would encounter him given the clearance level you'd been assigned that day and the sheer size of the asylum. But no, of course they had to be moving inmates down that hallway at the same time that you were traveling through it. And of course the Riddler, of all people, had been among them. It was nothing short of proof that there was, indeed, a divine blueprint for your life. The higher power of Gotham had singled you out and decided to make your life as dramatic as humanly possible.

But all things considered, you were proud of yourself for not reacting the way you would’ve expected, given your mental state for the past year. Sure, you’d been startled by his presence and there was a small twinge of genuine fear in your gut. But it quickly dissipated upon seeing him and his reality. Because while he had inspired some dangerous people with his own actions, he, himself, was no longer a threat. He was locked away with little to no access to the outside world, his days of streaming vitriol and murdering corrupt public officials behind him.

It was what he deserved. And yet, there was a small part of you that had recognized a horrible twinge of sympathy when you had made eye contact with him, when you thought about his soft features needing to survive in a place as rough as Arkham.

You looked down at the scrap of receipt paper you’d been drawing on, realizing with a groan that you’d accidentally drawn the Riddler’s symbol, the question mark and barbs mockingly staring up at you. Recoiling backwards like it actually had thorns, you tried not to think about why you’d drawn it. Snatching your pen from behind your ear, you scribbled over it, coloring an entire square inch of your paper black before ultimately deciding to just crumble it up and throw it into the trash can that sat underneath the counter.

And then somehow you missed, the paper ball landing pathetically on the stained linoleum floor.

Sighing, you crouched down, snatching the paper ball off the floor and crushing tightly within your fist. The ink from where you scribbled over the symbol was still wet, staining your skin with the stinky pigment. You stared at the splotch and realized that you apparently hadn’t done a great job covering up the question mark as it was clearly visible on your skin.

The bell above the door chimed out, bringing your attention up from the floor. With a sigh, you finally tossed the ball into the trash can. Keeping your eyes on it to make sure that it had actually made it into the trash can this time, you stood and looked up from where your attention had been focused on the trash can underneath the counter.

And right into the barrel of a pistol.

“I don’t want to shoot you.” The man had on a cloth mask covering the bottom half of his face, his dark eyes laser focused on you. His voice quivered slightly, though the hand holding his gun was steady. “Reach into the register and give me the money.”

You didn’t think twice before you reached over and, with your own shaking hands, unlocked the cash drawer. Grabbing the paper money was hard with the instability in your hands, but you managed. Throwing the wad of cash across the counter, you placed your hands on your head, praying that the amount would be enough for him.

It was then that you realized that you weren’t afraid that the man would shoot you- you were angry that this type of shit was happening again. Your hands were shaking from the adrenaline, not fear.

As you watched the man grab the money, you couldn’t help but think back to your conversation with Jonathan, about Gotham branding you as a victim. You fantasized for a moment launching yourself across the counter, taking the gun from the man’s hand and turning it on him. Taking out the frustration you felt at the lack of control you had in your life and making him pull the trigger- You stopped yourself from going any further in your imagined scenario.

Violent fantasies never helped anyone.

The man counted the cash, quickly flipping through the wrinkled paper.

“This is it?”

“Yes.” You didn’t have it in yourself to say it meekly, to play at being anything other than pissed. Perhaps having too many close calls with danger but being saved at the last minute took away your sense of self preservation. Like a wild animal who had been fed by humans too often, maybe you’d forgotten how to fend for yourself, how to survive in a dangerous city like Gotham.

For a moment, the man looked like he was going to ask you again, or worse, come around the counter himself. You didn’t know what you would do if he did that- it's not like you had anything protecting you back here- no secret weapons, no panic buttons- but you liked having the barrier of the counter between you and the robber, no matter how flimsy it actually was.

But then the man accepted your answer, or decided that the money he had gotten was enough, because he simply nodded once and, keeping his gun trained on you, left the store, walking backwards until he pushed open the door with his back. Then he turned and ran down the street, shoving his gun back into his pants.

You watched him leave, your breathing surprisingly even.

And as the intro to Shake It Off started from the store’s radio, sounding tiny and muffled as the opening drums echoed eerily in the empty space, you sighed and buried your face in your hands, threading your fingers through your hair and pulled.

Working at a corner store in Gotham was an inherently dangerous job.

You knew this the day you applied for the job. You knew it when you accepted the job after a bare-bones phone interview. You knew that’s why the job was so easy to get in the first place.

Even so, you hadn’t had anything actually dangerous happen while you were on the job. Walking home after work? Sure, there’d been a few tense moments and the unfortunate mugging last October. Encounters with Gotham nightlife. But during work hours? You’d been lucky enough to say that you’d been relatively safe. Until today, of course.

But it’s not like you could just quit, right? You needed the money, you had no other source of income. You were barely coasting by as it was.

Though, you did have that other job waiting for you… One that probably paid more than this shitty job that didn’t even cover the cost of living.

“No.” You told yourself out loud, you voice loud in the empty store. You’re thankful the security cameras had no sound, if they were even functional at all. “No, I’m not leaving one slightly dangerous job to go work at Arkham Asylum, not happening.”

Even as you said this, you knew you didn't really mean it. You were well aware that a well placed touch or one perfectly timed glance from Jonathan would immediately entice you to accept the job, or to do anything else for that matter. You were positive that if you told him what had happened during your shift, he would try to convince you to switch to Arkham right now. To forget about the stupid convenience store and work with him- under him.

You continued to debate with yourself as you watched your shift drift closer and closer to its end. Quit your job and work in a hospital for the criminally insane with your psychology professor who you were also sleeping with or stay at a shitty job that didn’t appreciate you? It was a hard decision.

Fifteen minutes before your shift’s end, the bell above the door rang and the last person you wanted to see at this moment entered the store. You groaned, burying your face in your hands again even though you knew what he would say when he saw you.

Sure enough, soon his gravelly voice overpowered the Fleetwood Mac song currently being piped into the room.

“What are you doing, slouching behind the counter like that? I don’t pay you to lean.”

Slowly, you looked back up at your manager. And despite your earlier apprehension at quitting, seeing his smarmy, greasy face with patches of unshaven beard and a dab of spaghetti sauce on the corner of his mouth brought forth all the unpleasant emotions you had been made to feel since you began working there. It was his fault that you were mugged that night, that you were just held at gunpoint. The constant dismissal of your very real concerns about your safety, the audacity of him calling you spoiled for not wanting to work late at night as a young woman in a city with the worst crime rate in the state, if not the entire country, had boiled over into a stew of resentment and anger.

Then he smiled at you, like he was your buddy, and that was it. You were very aware that you had been staring at him silently for longer than was socially acceptable, but you no longer felt any need to care about it.

“I quit.” The quiet words were out of your mouth before you realized you were saying them. It was like you had said them as you had thought them, as you realized how much you truly desired it, not thinking about the change they would enforce on your life. No, you didn’t care about the butterfly effect they would cause from this moment onwards when you said it. Because it was worth it to see how it instantly wiped the smile off of his face. Even though he was certainly used to people quitting on him, you had taken his abuse and turned a blind eye to his mismanagement for so long that he surely thought you would never stand up for yourself.

“What.”

You straightened your back, no longer afraid of angering him. Finally, you had said the two magic words that usurped any power he had over you.

“I. Quit.” You reached down to your name badge, ripping it off of your stained work shirt. The force of your movement created a small tear in the shirt, but you couldn’t care less. You’d rip the shirt off your body and leave wearing just your skirt if it meant you never had to step foot in this store again.

Snatching your purse from where you’d stashed it beneath the register (thank goodness the robber hadn’t seen it and demanded you hand it over, not that you had any money inside), you stormed around it to the other side, brushing past the manager. He was still, watching as you swept out of the store. But before you opened the door to leave, you turned to him.

“Oh, and we were robbed. There’s no fucking money in the register.”

Slamming the door behind you, you scanned the street for Jonathan’s car, knowing he was bound to be here already with how close it was to the end of your shift. You didn’t dare to look back at the shop behind you but you were sure your manager was staring through the window and sending daggers into your back with his eyes from behind the counter.

Finally, you spotted his familiar black sedan, picking up your pace until you were able to wrench the door open with your shaking hands.

You jumped into his car, squeezing your eyes shut and taking the deepest breaths possible as you tried not to break down into sobs. If he said anything in greeting, you missed it. You could feel him staring at you, his concern unspoken in the chilly stagnant air between you. It was that weird time of year where no one seemed to agree on whether to turn on the heat or air conditioning in their cars. Jonathan had decided on AC, making his car uncomfortably cold.

Though his car was running, and he was clearly poised to start driving, he didn’t pull out into the street.

Instead, he placed his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing a circle over your skin. He probably thought the action would soothe you but with each circle, his touch became more and more overwhelming, your already overstimulated nerves screaming to be left alone. It took every ounce of self control to not grab his wrist and yank his hand away from your body.

But he still didn’t ask you what was wrong, clearly waiting for you to break the silence.

So you did.

“Can you just-“ You stomped your foot, all of your unnamed complex emotions from the day boiling over into a stew of frustration and anger. “Drive?!”

Although, you planned to calmly ask him to start driving. But clearly it hadn’t come out that way, and now the air was heavier than before, anticipation weighing you down. You were stuck with him in this car, waiting to see how he would react to your outburst.

You hoped that he would see the sour mood you were in and just take you home.

But he didn’t. The car was horribly immobile, and you could feel the slowly increasing weight of his stare on you. You began to turn to face him when he moved, grabbing your chin with a vice-like grip, wrenching you further around to look at him. You were so shocked by his sudden movement that you were still, a deer stuck in the headlights of his attention.

The gesture itself was gentle, but there was a pressure behind his fingertips that betrayed the underlying tension in his body.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He spoke softly. In a different scenario, this would all be wonderfully intimate. Romantic even, with his touch on your face. But instead it was terrifying, the weight of his attention crushing at such a close distance. His fingers pinched your skin, holding you still. You were a muzzled dog, eyes wide and staring into his.

(And somewhere, deep down in your body, was the familiar beginnings of arousal. But you would examine that later when you weren’t on the verge of tears in his car, when he wasn’t inches from your face and able to see every twitch and quiver of your muscles. Part of you thought that maybe he was able to see it in you anyway, even after you decided to push it down.)

“Now, do you want to be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?”

Slowly, you nodded. To your relief, he let go of your face, though he still didn’t start driving. It took every ounce of will power in your body to not press yourself against the passenger side door, to give yourself some space from his suffocating presence.

“I quit my job.” Shakily, you began to describe the robbery, but also all of the awful things your manager had said to you, today and for the entire time that you worked there. Throughout it, Jonathan simply watched you speak, not reacting, not offering words of comfort.

Halfway through your explanation, Jonathan started driving, his eyes on the road but sliding over to you every few seconds. Like he was waiting for you to lash out, to lose your calm again. For your part, you kept your eyes on him, though you wanted to remind him to keep his eyes on the road.

“...And that’s why I’m in a bad mood.” You finished speaking, a bit lamely. Any of the frustration and unidentifiable emotions that had been stuck in your throat dissipated as you spoke, leaving you with nothing but a cold numbness and a sense of embarrassment at the rashness of your actions.

He was predictably silent.

You sighed, turning to look outside of the passenger window. At least you no longer felt like you needed to scream, or to cry. But you still had no solutions to the fact that you were now jobless. You knew that Jonathan would, probably, remind you of the job at Arkham and that you’d said you would take it once the semester ended. Surely, you could take it earlier, he would reason with you. But you still didn’t know if you had told him that because you’d actually meant it or just because you wanted to get him off of your back for the moment, to buy yourself time to figure out what you actually wanted to do.

Yours was the eternal curse of indecision, it seemed.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure if he was apologizing for what happened to you or for how he just treated you. If it was the latter, you’d forgive him. You’d already forgiven him the moment he let go of you. His eyes were on you, long enough that you feared he didn’t know what was actually happening on the road. “Why don’t you come over and let me make it up to you?”

You finally tore your gaze away from him, instead choosing to stare down at the ink splotch on your skin. If you squinted, you could still make out the question mark from your absent-minded doodling. It was like the universe was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t figure it out.

“I… suppose that would be fine.” You heard your voice like you were listening through a paper tube, or a phone call with poor reception. You didn’t really want to go over but the idea of being alone was worse than sitting in his sterile apartment.

And you really didn’t want him in your apartment.

“Good.”

Jonathan looked back at the road, the yellow and white lights of the passing buildings and street lamps reflecting in his glasses. You watched him from the corner of your eye, feeling like once again you had lost some battle. And then you berated yourself for even thinking that. You and Jonathan hadn’t defined your relationship but you knew that no matter how you ended up defining it, you shouldn’t feel like you were in a constant war with him.

But your chin still smarted from the pressure of his fingers on your skin and your pride still stung from the humiliation of your own behavior. You had acted like a petulant child, something you never did around Jonathan. He was right to be upset, you reasoned, because you were acting like a brat when you were a fully capable adult who was able to communicate effectively.

Jonathan cleared his throat, something he rarely did.

“The job offer for Arkham still stands.”

There it is.

“I know.” You paused, uncertain how to express yourself. “But-” You stopped, shaking your head before taking a deep breath and starting again. “But I don’t know if I actually want that job. I mean, am I even qualified for this job?”

You missed what he said next from the overwhelming sense of deja vu, a flashback to half a year ago when you were in his office and asking him the same things about your TA position. Which, in reflection, seemed to become less important with the more time that you spent with him. It didn’t even seem like he needed you to do work for him as an assistant anymore. Since spring break, you haven't been given any assignments to grade, even though you knew that he was still collecting them (thank you, annotated syllabus). You couldn’t shake the feeling that he had exhausted his use for you there (and was searching for somewhere else to put you so that he could keep you close).

Then you berated yourself, again, for flattering yourself.

“What?”

He made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat, a low sigh that almost had you flinching backwards. But he didn’t move, simply repeating what he’d said. You’d overreacted, mentally chastising yourself.

“It’s a secretary position. Hardly anything that needs qualifications.” He smiled, in an attempt to be reassuring. But you still felt like a fish on a hook, right before the line reeled back in. Or perhaps like someone who was about to have the rug pulled from under them.

“But it’s still in a hospital-”

“I wouldn’t have offered you this job if it wasn’t above board.”

“Alright.” You sighed. “I’m not agreeing, but I’ll trust you.” Sorry for doubting you, you tacked on in your head. “Just let me think about it.” The six words that kept him at bay because you knew that, ultimately, he would get what he wanted.

His hand found its way back to your thigh again, though he refrained from resuming the circular motions with his thumb. Whether he knew it was because it was too much for your over stimulated nerves to take or because he didn’t want to risk you lashing out again.

He stopped the car, removing his hand from your thigh and parking with ease. You scrambled out of the car, your legs unsteady beneath you like a newborn deer. Taking a deep breath, you crossed around the car to Jonathan’s side, allowing him to place his hand on your lower back and guide you into his building.

Jonathan’s apartment had remained relatively unchanged in the few weeks since you’d begun sleeping together. You had no drawer of things, no personal effects scattered around his space, nothing to indicate that you spent a large amount of time here. It didn’t bother you. You really hadn’t spent that many nights together, with the exception of the four days you’d spent tangled together over spring break but it was certainly not enough to begin encroaching on his space. And besides, he rarely entered your own apartment, and you liked it that way.

You liked to keep the memory of him visiting you after your Scarecrow encounter sacred. You didn’t want to sully it with random sex scenes and mundane conversations. Domesticity would ruin it, would clear away the romantic haze that your memory had cast over it all and leave you with reality.

Even so, you were more than comfortable entering his space. You no longer felt the need to perch on the edges of seats or linger in his doorways. (Though that’s probably more due to the three and a half days you had spent in various states of undress around his apartment than any sort of newly gained confidence after your first visit).

You sat down on one of Jonathan’s arm chairs, watching as he crossed the room and took his own languid position on his couch, one leg crossed over the other, his posture relaxed against the couch’s back.

“I’m not saying I’m taking the job but I do want to know- what exactly would my duties be?”

“It’s secretarial work but it will be similar to what you do with me now. Just paperwork, running errands around the asylum, pretty mundane things.” He removed his glasses, placing them on the arm of the couch before leaning his head back, closing his eyes. His neck was exposed further with the change in his position, a long column of white against the dark fabric of his suit and the couch behind him.

“Errands?” Your throat was dry and you did your best to subtly clear it. Jonathan’s eyes stayed closed, the inner end of his eyebrows pinched.

“If I need to get a memo to a doctor in the medical wing, you’ll take it. The electronic system they have in place for things like that is flighty. It’s a lot easier to send a person with a paper than to try and send an email.”

“Right.” You nodded absent-mindedly, rising from his couch to look out of the windows. It was quickly becoming your favorite way to view the city, so high above it all but still in the middle of it. You weren’t looking at the skyline but rather observing your place in it.

A thick raindrop splattered against the window before being followed rapidly by others. Splat, splat, splat. The sound was loud in the silent room and you wondered if Jonathan had fallen asleep. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing he would do, but he was so quiet. You watched until you were no longer able to see out of the window easily, the colors of the city melting into each other through the coat of water.

Sighing, you turned back to the interior of the room, immediately meeting Jonathan’s open eyes, their arctic blue focused on you. He watched as you crossed through the room before settling beside him on the couch. You were restless, something he now seemed to be keenly aware of.

“Do you enjoy being my TA?”

“...Yes?” Not intending for it to sound like a question, you shook your head before restating your answer more firmly. “I enjoy the work… and I enjoy spending time with you.”

“That I know.”

You smiled at his gentle teasing. Of course, he knew.

“But I do think you’ll enjoy working with me over at the asylum.” He shrugged. “It’s very similar work.”

“You really want me to take this job, don’t you?”

He nodded, his eyes flickering to your lips. Your heart skipped a beat, your breath quickening instantly at the simple gesture.

Insatiable, you thought as you scooted closer to him, crossing the rest of the couch before closing your eyes as your lips met in a gentle kiss. You pressed yourself firmly against him, rising to your knees to kneel on the couch cushion, leaning over him slightly. His hands found your hips, bunching the fabric of your stupid work shirt.

Pulling away from him, you ripped the shirt off of your body, tossing it onto one of the arm chairs, needing to get the disgusting fabric away from you. As soon as it was off of your body, you rejoined your mouth with his, pushing his body against the back of the couch.

You were well aware that he was letting you take control right now, that it was not stolen dominance but temporarily borrowed. The moment he decided to take it back, you would gladly let him.

Your hand drifted downward over his body, lingering over the slowly growing tent in his pants. Smiling against his lips before parting from him, you looked into his eyes as his cool breath fanned over your face. Your fingertips teased at his button and he watched unblinking as you kept tracing vague shapes over his clothed length, obviously debating whether or not you should undo his pants and pull him out.

Like he could sense your indecision, he took your wrist and pressed it down firmly onto his cock, hissing through his teeth at the sudden pressure.

Surging forward and pressing your open mouth to his parted lips once again, you undid the button on his pants, fumbling until you were able to pull him out of his pants. Keeping the pressure that he had guided you into, you began to move your hand. When you pulled back from kissing him, his lips were wet with your combined saliva and flushed, parted as he panted with your ministrations.

Unable to decide which was better, you switched between watching his face and your own hand moving up and down on his cock. When you looked up to his face again, you met his half-lidded eyes as he watched you essentially ogle his member and your grip on it, his lips parted slightly.

You stuttered in your pace and he moved suddenly, gripping your wrist tightly and pulling you off of his cock.

“Get up.” He patted his lap once and you immediately understood. Breathing out shakily, you moved over his body and climbed onto his lap, grinding down onto him, sighing at the pressure against your core. He slipped his hands beneath your skirt, hooking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear before pulling them down your legs. You rose again, helping him in slipping them off of your body.

With a final grind of your now exposed cunt to his hard length, you groaned when the head of his cock pressed against your clit. Now impatient, you reached down and guided his cock to your entrance, slowly sinking onto his hard length with a deep groan from your chest. His head was leaning against the back of the couch again as he looked at you down his nose, his lips barely parted as he watched you slowly impale yourself on him.

With each inch you sank further into your own abyss, no longer caring about the ugliness of the day. What was there to care about when you had Jonathan Crane beneath you, looking like he did as you filled yourself with him?

With a deep breath, you bottomed out. Keeping your breath even, you allowed yourself a moment to adjust before gently pushing yourself upwards, his cock sliding out of you until just the head remained inside of your cunt.

And then you set a slow but steady pace, fucking yourself on his cock.

But with each time your hips met, your pace grew faster, your legs working to pull you up and down until you were practically bouncing yourself on his cock.

“Good girl.” His voice was breathy and deep, muttered against your lips as he allowed you to take your fill of his body.

You knew that you were whimpering and nodding like a mad woman, eagerly grinding down onto his cock as you chased your orgasm. You snaked your hand down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You could feel yourself clench around his hard length and your bouncing slowly morphed into a frantic grinding, drawing pictures with your hips as you tried to find the spot within you that would send you into your climax.

“That’s it, come on my cock, that’s a good girl.” He whispered and you had no idea if he meant for you to hear it at all but it was enough to push you over the edge, your body caving towards him as you shook with the force of your orgasm. You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, pressing down on his cock until your hips stilled, your body tight with sensitivity.

But Jonathan wasn’t done yet, his cock still hard inside of you. As soon as you were finished coming, his hands found your hips. Quickly, he began to thrust upwards into your cunt, using your body like it was nothing more than a method for him to finish. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, biting back whimpers at the continued assault of sensations on your overstimulated senses.

He cursed sharply under his breath, his grip tightening as he began to lose his rhythm. With a last few sharp thrusts, he threw his head back, groaning deep in his chest as he filled you with his warm spend.

After a few moments of sitting with his slowly softening cock still inside of you, you started to move away before he grabbed your hips, stopping you from getting up off of his lap. Slowly, you sat back down, not unaware that he was becoming hard again.

“We aren’t done yet.”

Later, in the familiar haze of the afterglow, your nose buried in the crook of Jonathan’s lithe neck, you mumbled your decision. “I’ll take the Arkham job.”

He shifted underneath you- you’d moved to the bed a few rounds ago, but they all blended together into an abstract portrait of sweat and lust- pushing against your arms to pull your face away from him and to look into your face.

“Are you sure?”

Not at all.

“Of course.”

It all felt very familiar, though the last time you’d agreed to something like this with him you weren’t in his arms or his bed. But you felt the familiar twinge of pleasure at the soft, pleased smile on his face. And underneath that, the curl of anxiety at the notion that you had given in too easily.

next part

#the title Karma is more in reference to LWYMMD than the actual song Karma- I firmly believe that Ed was in his rep era during the film #jonathan crane x reader #anyway #my writing #jonathan crane x you #scarecrow x reader #the batman #batman fanfiction #my fic

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pekasairroc · 4 months

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Tagged by @sinfulauthor

1. Were you named after anyone?

My mom used to have a friend named Holly who remarked how she always loved her name. I have been repeatedly assured I was not named after Big Hol.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Christmas Day when Ed’s parrot Azul died :(

3. Do you have kids?

Nah

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

As a kiddy kid I did a lot of sports for a season or two (soccer, basketball) or several summers (softball) but I fenced foil for a few years and later on did some cross country. I would like to get back into fencing but would need to find a casual club that’s a good fit and change from a French grip to a Pistol grip due to hand hurty

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Often, but I prefer deadpan understatements.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Currently it’s whether they have a flu shot badge at work and then if they’re masking (mandatory if they don’t have the shot, highly encouraged regardless). I have had to do so many audits and trying not to STARE at people’s badges and lower faces due to exposures at work.

7. What's your eye color?

Blueish gray green. Aka blue.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

9. Any talents?

I can make myself and others stop hiccuping on command.

10. Where were you born?

Chicago suburbs

11. What are your hobbies?

Lots of art, writing, sewing, and crafting is what I usually tell people without getting into the details.

12. Do you have any pets?

No, but once I figure out the petsitting situation I would love to get two rats. I am not actively figuring out the petsitting situation.

Look, it’s one thing to ask a big group if someone could watch a cat for a weekend and it’s easy af to find a dog sitter but it’s hard to ask people to feed and clean up for two rats. It just is.

13. How tall are you?

5’8”

14. Favorite subject in school?

Latin. Languages in general.

15. Dream job?

I sit as the creative head of a production company. Is it animation? Is it comics? Video games? Doesn’t matter. I explain to the group in the room ideas for stories and they wait with bated breath to the finish. They applaud. Standing ovation is implied. They set to work on making my visions and stories and characters a reality with far more technical artistic skill than I personally have but 100% under my 100% perfect creative direction. The story is an international hit. Millions adore these stories and characters and are impacted in their life in a positive way, always remembering these little tales and being so normal about them. I live a quiet life in a cute little house drawing silly doodles when I’m not drafting the next story— and let’s be real, I don’t need to draft since it’s perfect and easy from the start— and give Q&As where no one asks dumb questions and everyone perfectly understands and respects my vision and desire to not tell certain details but listens spellbound for every tangent I go on about the history of one line or a part I thought was funny. Everyone leaves me alone but radiates in my storytelling prowess and is inspired in turn. Me and my characters are forever remembered in the realms of history.

That's not what you meant by “dream job?” Well, I actually like my infection control job and the parts I dislike are the parts that suck for all regulatory jobs. Love 2 tell people to wash their hands.

#a day in the life of a holly

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goodtimeswithgrian · 1 year

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how do people even manage to post sketches. my sketches look like a mess of colorful lines and i go "oh no, i can't post that, even i don't know what exactly i'm looking at here" and draw a clean sketch. and then color it. maybe even add shadows. and oh my god i technically finished a piece that was meant to be just a doodle and it's 4 am now.

#at the same time. this is how i taught myself to draw fast #years ago when i had a mlp oc ask blog i'd finish a shaded piece with a simple bg in 30 minutes or less #because it impressed people watching my streams #and then never managed to just. stop doing exactly this for the next 10 years asdfsdafsd #szad.txt #would you guys even want to see my sketches. i feel like i don't have the line confidence yet to make pleasing sketches

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jewish-anime · 10 months

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doodle of my vtuber friend Zoiteki!

i meant to just clean up the sketch w/ their stream in the background but ended up finishing it in one go lmao....

im also a little glad it took me so long to color this bc it meant i could include the new freckles lmao

#zoiteki #zoiteki virtual oni #vtuber #ive never drawn vtuber art before idk how to tag this

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gallexy-cat · 2 years

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Dual Sun and Moon doodles I did! They're meant to be under a tree, in the moonlight and sunlight respectively. idk if I'll clean them up, they were mostly meant to be more of a color and lighting test, and I mostly like how they turned out :3

Also I'm almost done my Devils Train animatic with Moon and Gregory, so hopefully I'll post that soon enough, maybe within another few weeks (cuz school starts next week ugh)

Anyway, enjoy your day/night!

#sundrop #moondrop #fnaf sb #doodles #fnaf sun #fnaf moon

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multishipper-baby · 2 years

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@chocottang I can't draw today but- the bros <3 Golden fell asleep after getting overworked by grandpa so Gray is letting him take a nap and death glaring + throwing things are anyone who tries to wake him up.

Also a failed doodle under the cut I didn't fully like it and thus didn't feel like coloring it or cleaning it up: