#SCREAM FOR THOSE BUTCHES!

[chimchiri]

HEY! YES YOU!

Want more of those butches? Do you wanna see those lesbians kiss and get dirty? Is my art ship art not nasty enough yet and you need more smut?? Angry I haven't drawn this one amazing butch lesbian yet??? WTH?! Then you should

... RIGHT HERE UNDER THIS LINK!

-> Vote on what I draw next! -> Give ideas and suggestions (just scream into my face that you NEED to see those two lesbians make out sloppy style!!) -> See all the NSFW art uncensored ! -> Are you an artist? Send in some art and I'll leave feedback!

I'm putting my art both SFW and NSFW on there before anyone else sees it - as well as any sketches, WIPs, and timelapse videos.

Listen, by now there's I think three pieces/sketches/wips I haven't posted online yet so at least some new things already!

And guess what: You even get the privilege of saying you're helping me reach a point where I could reduce my day job! Let people know what an amazing and generous person you are! (Don't worry, no one needs to know you're just there for the women grinding on each other. Your secret's safe with me!)

"I'd love to join, but it's so close to the end of the month and I don't want to be charged twice when November 1st starts-"

Don't worry! Patreon introduced a new monthly billing system for which I already opted in for. You get billed monthly on the day you choose and NOT automatically on the 1st, so there's no reason for you to wait until November (you can if you want to of course!). If you do join now and for some reason you get charged twice (again on the 1st), let me know and I'll have a look and refund you in that case!

-> Last one: if you join, do it via the desktop option and NOT via iOS to avoid any additional charges from Apple!

[birdiemcnally]

there she is……. keychain’d……..

[marziemoo]

This fucking book is a hard read.

[felice-girlboss]

Shoutout to fashion icon Omar for putting up with Simon’s horrendous wardrobe

YOUNG ROYALS (2021) | 1.01

Simon agreeing to get the booze for August to impress a boy ♡

[ncrthofnowhere]

sweet dreams — part one

summary : your roommate sucks, but you sort of wanna fuck her, and that's just a terrible problem to have.

tags : nsfw! modern!au, sevika's huge butch cock, & mentions of masturbation.

wc : 1.1k

notes : for the precious anon that wanted more badroommate!sevika <3

Sevika was the worst roommate ever.

You’re going insane. You swear your lungs are turning black from all the second-hand smoke you’re inhaling. Sevika smokes inside the apartment constantly and she doesn’t listen to you when you yell at her to blow it out the window. You would really like your security deposit back, but at this point, you’re shit out of luck because the walls are definitely going to be stained yellow by the end of the lease.

You’re going insane. You get no sleep. She brings girls over every night and they’re always so damn loud when they’re going at it. You hate it. 

(“Oh Sevika!”

You’re on your stomach, biting into your pillow and trying to keep quiet as you rub furiously at your engorged clit. Unlike some people, you were considerate of the fact that your apartment had walls as thin as paper. Still, keeping quiet was difficult when your fingers felt so good against yourself.

“Fuck, you’re so big!”

You can’t help but whine at that. God, your mind drifts to Sevika, how insufferable she is and how deliciously her cock would fill you up. You’ve seen it, you work mornings and have seen the bulge she sports around in the early dawn when she’s half awake and still slightly hard from morning wood.

You think about how smug she would be, fucking you, how she could fold you in half and pound into you like you were meat and how you would thank her all the same. You think about how it would look to a third person, how her musclebound ass would clench with every thrust she makes into your cunt. You think about how you would come and whine for her to stop, saying it was too much and that you were too sensitive and how she would smirk and tell you that you could take more for her.

You think about Sevika, Sevika, Sevika. 

Your hips jerk sloppily to the rhythm of the fingers on your cunt. The noise it makes is delightfully sinful. You want Sevika to drink it all up, to tongue at it until you were writhing and screaming on her bed.

It isn’t long before you hear a moan that was louder than the rest and a low groan that definitely belonged to Sevika.

You come with them, your cunt squeezing and spasming against your hand. The orgasm has you struggling to breathe steadily as you flop onto your back. You’re too spent to get up to clean yourself, so you suck yourself off your fingers and wipe the spittle against your bedsheets. You let out a pleased sigh and fall headfirst into blissful sleep.

You can’t quite look Sevika in the eyes the next morning.)

You’re going insane. You’re annoyed all the time. She seemingly loves annoying the fuck of out of you because she teases you every time you walk out of your room. You’re trying to get used to it, the sexual innuendos (you always roll your eyes at those), the size jokes, (you’re really not that small, she’s just well built, alright?), and the fucking sex jokes, by god, the sex jokes at your expense. No, you aren’t a “prude,” you just… don’t have time for that.

(It started after the fifth girl she brought over. You confronted her, begged her to go to a damn hotel or something because it was getting ridiculous. You're probably only getting five hours of sleep a day and your clit really cannot take another night.

“I don’t really see the problem here,” she had said with her signature smirk.

“Sevika," you hissed, fuming, "You have these girls moaning like it’s their job!”

“Jealous?”

You had blushed at that and Sevika, observant as she was, did not miss the way your face turned tomato red.

“Wooow,” She draws the word out with the biggest grin on her face, amused to all hell, “you are!”

“Wh–” You wheezed, caught off guard, “No? I’m not!”

You sort of are. There’s no fucking way you’ll tell her that though.)

You’re going insane.

This woman is fucking insufferable. You wouldn’t really call yourself a petty woman per se, but Sevika makes you that kind of person. The idiot leaves her prosthetic arm everywhere around the apartment and it brings you immense satisfaction to hide it —  just to see how panicked she gets when she has to tear the entire place apart to find it.

You do not know how you were going to survive sexual frustration without fucking your roommate, which would be very, very bad. Or without going completely bald from the stress. Baldness would be preferable, honestly.

//

You sigh as you fumbled with the old front door knob to your shared apartment. You really don’t understand why the fuck your landlord refuses to just replace this ancient thing — the prongs of your keys get stuck in the eroded hole on a regular basis and it is a pain in the ass to wrestle it out without breaking the metal.

After ten straight minutes of struggle, you finally get the door open, only to get hit in the face with the strong odor of cigarillo smoke. Fucking god.

“Sevika!” You snarl, ready to yell at her.

The woman in question is sitting by the window, cigarillo in hand while actively blowing the fumes outside. You blink and look up and down at her. Sevika has seemingly dressed down for the night, wearing only an undershirt and loose sweatpants. The bulge between her crotch is deliciously highlighted by how she’s manspreaded across the loveseat. 

She raises her eyebrows up at you expectantly. You swallow, your throat suddenly desert dry. 

“…Hi.”

Sevika chuckles lowly at that, “hello.”

“I was—” you cough, “—I was going to yell at you for, uh… smoking inside.”

Sevika nods along slowly, like you were the crazy one here and she wasn’t the woman sitting in the living room with a hard on and blowing her cigarette smoke out the window for the first time in the three months you’ve lived here.

She uses her muscular arm to brace against the loveseat in order to sit up properly on the couch. The cigarillo looks delicate in her calloused hands. The movement highlights the muscles in her biceps and forearms, but it also jostles her cock, making you swallow harshly. She has to be doing this on purpose, you think.

“I’ll just—” you squeak out, gesturing awkwardly towards your bedroom, “I’m going to my bedroom now.”

Sevika smiles at that and brings a hand up to wave condescendingly at you.

“Sweet dreams.”

At that, you run to your room, slamming the door so hard the walls around seemed to vibrate. You slump against the door frame, horny and sweating.

What the fuck.

those that wanted to be tagged : @sevikalover824 ; @sevikaswife135 ; @djstinkyfartz ; @carotenoidstereo

[taamlok]

varric tethras woke up and put on his cock ring necklace and red tunic. he threw his hair up into a messy bun and came downstairs.

"pack your things bitch! i sold you for red lyrium money" said hawke from the kitchen table, cigarette in hand.

"what? you're a horrible person!"

"well i love red lyrium and i hate you!" said hawke. varric felt something hard hit the back of his head. hawke had thrown a copy of hard in hightown at him. varric ran for the door.

"hawke, he's trying to run away!" screamed anders as he grabbed varric. he was also smoking a red lyrium cigarette. when varric opened the door there was a beautiful butch lesbian standing there with a bald guy and a person with a glowing hand.

"ello, love! we're your new owners! i'm cassandra" said the beautiful butch.

"aren't you those losers from that stupid inquisition? there's no way i'm going with you!" varric turned to run away. the green hand one gestured to the bald guy, who started telling stories about the fade in extreme detail. it was so boring it started putting varric to sleep.

"thanks for taking him off my hands, inquisitor! goodbye, slut!" hawke laughed. it was the last thing varric heard before the bald guy's iambic pentameter made him pass out.

[astroellies]

˚༄࿔ more singer ellie (ft. actor reader) headcanons

warnings! happiness and fun.

⭐︎ you know that one video of oscar isaac and jessica chastain? yeah ellie likes doing that when you two are on red carpets together. she’s shameless and lovessss to show you off, especially when you’re feeling hot.

⭐︎ likes to take 0.5s or other unflattering photos of you during commerical breaks at award shows. she likes to post them for your birthday or anniversary (to keep you humble of course).

⭐︎ she likes you to star in her music videos. especially if they’re short films or otherwise telling a story. if you’re fem(me) she loves when you have a hyper-feminine vibe or if you’re more masc she thinks it’s so hot to butch out with you. her videos are essentially thirst traps but she’d never admit it.

⭐︎ AND the fans absolutely eat up the bts of the music videos. you like to bring a camera to set to film her. cute videos of her getting her makeup touched up and smirking at the camera saying hi baby. or silly ones of her talking in a thick southern accent dressed as a cowboy saying something like howdy, partner.

⭐︎ pre-eras tour ellie says that she isn’t a swiftie but you drag her along to the concert and catch her doing a frat-flick during we are never ever getting back together. (also she heard champagne problems live she became evermore’s #1 fan!)

fans see her too and definitely give her friendship bracelets and post videos of her dancing to tiktok. the masses are saying that ellie and taylor need to collab (no matter how different their music styles are).

⭐︎ speaking of ellie liking taylor swift she loves to hype up the other music girls. she was definitely spotted at chappell’s gov ball set wearing heart sunglasses and screaming after midnight. i feel like she’d dream of collabing with sabrina carpenter and being freaks together. ALSO megan the stallion is her biggest celebrity crush like watch out if she ever meets her it’s over for you two. specifically loves big ole freak.

⭐︎ sings with joel all the time. whether he’s famous or not (nepo ellie?) he’s featured on at least one of her songs. they’d definitely do a cover of like country roads, take me home or something.

⭐︎ you two would somehow end up doing like a wired autocomplete interview together and they have to cut the footage because you two are flirting or just being silly together. like pedro pascal and oscar isaac’s but romantic.

⭐︎ there are definitely some paparazzi photos out there of her looking just straight up silly lol. i’m talking one of those i’m not a gynecologist but i’ll take a look shirts, huge ass adam sandler shorts, mismatched socks, and crocs. and she’s like on a grocery run or walking a dog or something.

⭐︎ has done calvin klein or perfume ads that have people going crazy. close ups of her eyes and her tattoo. in a sports bra. hair slightly slicked back.

⭐︎ your biggest fan ever when you win awards. full standing ovation, kissing you all over before you can actually go on stage and collect the award. will post a picture of you two at like dennys or some 24/7 diner post-oscars. your hair and makeup messy. you’re wearing her blazer. the trophy sat next to you on the table. and the caption is like so proud of my girl.

⭐︎ if you kept your relationship private before getting married the internet would lose their shit. like you post a singular picture of her, tattoo peaking out from under her suit, ring on full display and hand wrapped around your waist. saying something like best day of my life with the best wife(!!).

⭐︎ i think she’d love sending edits of you, herself, or both of you to you. she’d be like babe we’re so hot. (if you have opposite aesthetics people definitely edit you to style by taylor swift!)

⭐︎ she’d probably get her instagram password taken away after posting like it was her spam account. like maybe she unintentionally spoils a new movie you’re in by posting a bts photo of you in her photo dump.

⭐︎ no matter how famous she gets, black converses will always be her go-to performance shoe. and she wears them to the DEATH. it doesn’t matter if you buy her a new pair she will wear the old ones until the sole is falling off and then she will wear the new pair. her fanbase definitely jokes about this similarly to how the tlou fandom does. like tiktoks of the most fucked up shoes and they’re like this is so ellie williams core.

⭐︎ she goes on like jimmy fallon or some late night show and they show a clip of her after getting her wisdom teeth removed (or some other procedure that makes you loopy)…

and she’s crying because she called you really pretty but she has a girlfriend and she feels so bad about it. but you’re behind the camera telling her you’re her wife. which makes her cry harder because you’re so so beautiful and perfect. and joel’s in the front seat, driving, and laughing his ass off.

⭐︎ you two get to go on snl together, you’re hosting and she’s the musical guest and you two fuck up every skit you’re in. like as soon as you make eye contact with her you’re bursting out laughing (how could you not when she’s dressed like an 80’s rockstar or a stereotypical nerd).

[redtail-lol]

Shoutout to lesboys who aren't actually men or boys. I'm sorry you have to be misgendered by exclusionists when they scream about how men can't be lesbians to invalidate your identity and you're not even men. This one's for the butches that like the word lesboy as validation for their masculinity. This one's for transmasc enbies who don't fully ID as men but they do (partially) connect with masculinity and manhood and so they use lesboy. This one's for gender variant lesboys who aren't men but use lesboy to make sure everyone knows they're not a woman, who are more comfortable being perceived as "more boyish" than as a girl. This one's for all the lesboys who aren't men or boys but still identify with being a lesboy. Stop misgendering them because the only argument against their identity that you can think of is "men can't be lesbians."

Obligatory "I support lesboys who are men and/or boys as well, I'm just specifically focusing on those who aren't right now"

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

Diahann Carroll (Paris Blues, Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess)— Face of an angel. She had the range. She brought chemistry with every romance she portrayed. She also had a great fashion sense, and was so pretty Mattel made a doll based off of her.

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Diahann Carroll:

Another groundbreaking black actress, although she might be better remembered for her television roles. She was also an activist and worked with charities to support women in need.

here she is hanging out with shadow prince anthony perkins :3

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

[spatialwave]

“passionate kissing, pressed up against a wall” prompt with Viktor, Jayce or Mel? If not, i want to add i love reading your work 🤧

thank you so much!! <3 i hope this mel fic does justice hehe.

➸ pairing: mel medarda x fem!reader ➸ word count: 687 ➸ tags: mdni! passionate kissing, semi-nsfw, wlw, reader is a butch enforcer baddie and basically mel’s bodyguard. ➸ notes: eeek this was sooo fun to write. i love wlw content, please send more asks if that’s your vibe!! came from this prompt!

“Your mother wants me dead.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

Your eyes lingered on Mel, leaning back against the brick wall of the council room. The large area was empty, and you had been tasked to watch over her for the time being as tension rose between Piltover and Zaun. Strong arms crossed over your chest, the enforcer uniform stretching over your muscled skin.

“She simply doesn’t appreciate those who, well, don’t listen.”

Mel’s voice was calm, soothing. Gods, you wanted it so badly to irritate you, but it always stirred a swirling feeling in your stomach.

“So, she does want me dead?” You quirked an eyebrow, lips lifting into a smirk that Mel wanted to wipe from your face.

“You’re being dramatic,” Mel murmured, her slender arms lifting to wrap around her body as she stood before you, turning to look over her shoulder at the empty seats where the council sat.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed yourself away from the wall with your foot, sighing. Her mother was… a tough subject.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “I know it’s hard for you that she’s here,” you continued, lifting a hand to tug Mel’s chin so she was forced to look back at you.

She shook her head, “don’t apologize,” her voice was soft, eyes closing as she nuzzled her cheek to your calloused hand. 

“Do you want to forget about it?” You asked quietly, swallowing thickly as your other hand reached out, hesitantly settling on her hip, “just for a little.”

You enjoyed seeing the way she smiled at you, looking up to meet your gaze. A small smile graced her lips, “Last night wasn’t enough to sate you, was it?” she asked teasingly, two hands grazing over your stomach. You stared down at her, heart jumping into your throat as her hands filled your body with static.

“Oh, whatever,” you scoffed, playing it cool, “I’m not the one who was screaming my name out last night.”

She parted her lips in response, flustered as her fingernails dug into your uniform, “Well–”

You were filled with excitement at her reaction, twirling her around with your hands on her hips until she was pressed back against the wall. Your knee pushed between her legs, allowing the woman to roll herself against your thigh.

“Keep it quick,” she breathed, eyes half-lidded as her hands crawled up your body and rested on your jaw, “but don’t hold back.”

Fuck.

Lips crashed together, the gloss she wore smudging against your skin as your tongue slipped into her mouth. You chased after her tongue, her moans muffling into your mouth as the two of you tasted each other. 

Her hands reached into your hair, tugging and clawing at you.

“Look at you,” you breathed against her lips, mouth moving to drag along her jaw, teeth catching on her skin, “bet you couldn’t stop thinking about me all day.” 

Mel let out a whimpered as she tilted her head, providing you with access to kiss at her neck. Fingers tightened in your hair, and you whined at a harsh tug. You pulled back to look at her, both of you sharing the same look. Heavy breaths, half-lidded eyes, and the urge to rip each other’s clothes off now.

“Why don’t you give me a reason to think about you tomorrow?” She asked, her voice sickeningly sweet as she closed the distance between your lips, brushing them in a teasing fashion, “Can you do that for me?”

“Sure. Anything for you,” you said obediently, licking into her mouth with a quick movement. You pushed your body hard against hers, chests pressed together and hands gliding along the exposed skin on her thighs.

You felt her twitch under your touch, her lips parting to accept all you had to offer, as your mix of moans muffled in each other’s mouths. She was putty in your hands, pressed against the wall and eager for you to make a mess out of her.

Pulling back for air, you slowly dropped to your knees, watching Mel’s eyes flutter open and stare down at you, thighs beginning to shake.

“Ready, princess?”

[sorin-sunchild]

Masculinity is only a prison when you don't want it. Masculinity is only a prison when you don't want it. Masculinity is only a prison when you don't want it. Masculinity is only a prison when you don't want it.

Look I love and adore everyone who has had masculinity thrust upon them against their will and found the ability to sprout wings and fly away

BUT

I have to stress that masculinity can also be beautiful. It can be a warm weighted blanket. It can be shining armour. It can be enpowering and fierce. It can be cosy and peaceful.

Butch women embrace it, trans mascs embrace it, drag kings who are otherwise cis women embrace it

and we love it!

We're not shackling ourselves by doing so, nor are cis men who enjoy being masculine keeping themselves caged! It's rude to suggest otherwise, of anyone, because their personal gender euphoria (and cis people get GE too) is not understood by you!

For many, feminity and womanhood are a locked room where no light comes in, where it's damp and lonely and you ache all the time, screaming without being heard until you can't scream any more, it's a choking force presented to us as soft and pure and good even as it makes us want to die. Maybe we'd like to try it out a little, on our own terms, but now it's nothing but a heavy iron collar around the neck and the key is there but it's too dark to see it.

And for those of us who feel like that masculinity is freedom. Being able to embrace it is one day looking up and seeing that not only is the door open but suddenly there's windows and beautiful sunlight is pouring in.

[genderoutlaws]

went to buy hair dye today after work and got fucking chased down in the parking lot by 4 dudes in a car screaming slurs and shit at me abt my body and my hair and shit. and 2 ladies were walkin in front of me n no one said shit or asked if i was okay. being a girls girl isnt for dykes and heshes i am well aware but it always stings and it sucks feeling unsafe and also knowing theres no one on your side. cant show your heart or tears just have to rage and scream and fight back and hope for the best bc what else is there. last time i saw a girl in a parking lot getting yelled at by dudes in a car driving by i screamed go fuck yourselves and she thanked me and it felt good and i will always stand up fr others but i wish tough butch dykes had someone to stand up for us too sometimes. thts what femmes are for honestly but my femme is 200 miles away and im just Here. anyways i hope those guys get in a fiery car wreck and die

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

sometimes complaining about girlboss characters starts to feel like complaining about mary sues or manic pixie dream girls. theres a real criticism of the trend at some point but its gets quickly drowned out by a lot of misogyny. its okay for girls to do cool things

oh i'm fine for natural girlbosses. dot warner is still an icon above icons.

the problem is with "girlbossing," when someone looks at a feminine girl character and is like "now wait a minute. she can't be feminist if she is Nice and Romantic and Untrained At Combat. it's not like feminism is saying 'traditionally feminine things are not the problem, and they've been severely undervalued in favor of traditionally masculine traits.' no, it's the femmes who are wrong. we shall make them more masculine and in turn make them more feminist. but god forbid we make them actually butch. obviously we can't go that far" also somehow these characters usually end up as business owners because capitalism is good

ie: 90% of Cinderella adaptations in this day and age, Disney's reboot of Snow White, Mario Movie Peach (tho I haven't seen the movie myself so I'm just going based on what people told me).

Sometimes it's done WELL- like Webby in Ducktales'17 is textbook girlbossing, with her being more combat-oriented and less "cute." But that was clearly done as a way to explore more of her character rather than relegate her to "the character we pander to the Females with" and make her more proactive in the story they were telling, rather than as a way to make her "less girly." She's still into sleepovers and pink dresses and has female friends (who were added into the reboot), she just ALSO likes blood sports. Mario Movie Peach might be the same way, as I said I haven't seen the mov. or sometimes the girlbossing is Camp™, like & juliet. in which case it's fucking awesome

But the vast majority of the time, it's people thinking that a character being traditionally feminine is automatically antifeminist, without thinking "well, is this a character with a personality, wants, and agency"? Cinderella is constantly belittled for "doing nothing" but she's an abuse survivor in a situation she can't escape, who as soon as she's given a way out is active in trying to get her happy ending. 1950's Disney Cinderella literally is the one to run down the stairs screaming that she has the other slipper. Their 2015 girlboss Cinderella spins and dances in her room until the prince comes and gets her. And that's like. Their LEAST offensive reboot girlbossing.

Goddamnit I have to leave for work now. tl;dr the problem with girlbossing isn't "letting women do cool things", those things are sick and awesome. The problem is the writers implicitly saying "any girl that doesn't conform to masculine ideals of strength is clearly weak and needs to be fixed."

[victimbutch]

they'd never had dreams so vivid. every night for the past month, when the knight laid down to rest, they'd had the most real dreams of their life. and the past three had given them a mission.

for weeks, they'd begun to look forward to sleeping, to the dreams that had been so comforting. weeks of passionate dreams of gorgeous femmes lavishing them, of another butch taking them so hard they thought they could feel it in the morning, of battles fought valiantly and brutally in the nude... and the past three had ended with an angelic figure leading them from their home to the cave of a great beast, telling them to slay it and save the city they were charged with.

the morning after the third dream, they suited up and head out. their horse carried them along familiar yet unknown paths, toward the cave they knew their quest led to. the darkened trees and waving violet grasses were expected, they'd seen them before. what wasn't expected, was when the angelic figure appeared to them again, speaking within their mind. "your charge has relocated. follow me, quickly," it bid.

dutifully, the knight followed after the spectre. it had brought them such comfort in those past weeks, and they believed its intentions were true. their city depended on their trust of this being.

their horse slowed in anxiety as they approached their location, the figure urging them onward, so, the knight abandoned their horse. they would go the rest of the way on foot, if they had to. so be it. the figure rested a hand on their shoulder and ushered them onwards, deeper into unfamiliar, twisted woods. the touch was warm, even through their armor, as if it were touching their body.

it didn't occur to the knight that they didn't remember the path they'd taken until they walked into a clearing and the angel disappeared. something unknown to them stood in front of them, arms and horrible tentacles splayed wide in a display. they couldn't stop their feet from carrying them forward, they couldn't draw their sword or raise their shield. the creature drew them into an embrace, and they shuddered at the familiarity of its touch. they knew this creature. it had been fucking them for a month in their dreams.

they tried to pull away, but their body wouldn't comply, rather it began to remove their armor piece by piece. they screamed at the creature, something unintelligible, and it let out a clicking chuckle as they stripped themselves naked. a booming, masculine voice burst through their mind, "don't bother fighting."

it was petrifying, to have control of their body wrenched away. the knight found themselves kneeling and touching their cunt, lavishing their tongue over the flat expanse of the creature's crotch, tears of frustration, fear, and rage pouring down their face. "you're doing well. your lovers must have been pleased," the voice split their mind again. they cried out, and the creature made them push their fingers deep inside themselves.

it lifted them without touching them at all, their body rising and moving in the air as if in water. it splayed their legs over it's shoulder and supported them to lay on nothing but air. the tentacles of its face spread open to reveal a beak, and as it leaned in towards their pussy they thrashed about. it laughed at them again before simply pushing one of its facial tentacles into them. their legs squeezed together around the beast's head, intense pleasure blooming from its touch.

"what... the fuck..." they breathed out. the creature pulsed its tentacle and they keened. it rotated them in the air, dropping their face back to it's flat crotch. it slipped a second and third tentacle into their pussy, and one into their ass, and a booming command to "worship" blazed through their mind.

their mouth dropped open and their tongue began to lavish. they found themselves sucking on the flat surface, lapping at it, truly worshipping. the tentacle in their ass squirmed uncomfortably, but each movement sent a wave of unbelievable pleasure through their brain. the tentacles in their pussy twined and fought and thrust in and out of sync, driving them wild with sensation. it wasnt long before the creatures grip on their mind forcing them to eat its nullspot was gone entirely, the knight simply devoting itself to pleasuring the blank space. completely broken to the creatures control, the knight was aware it wasn't anything but a pet anymore.

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

I Can Fix That... | Dr. Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary| She's the detective assigned to investigate one of Gotham's top villains, Falcone, but as she follows her leads, she uncovers a new suspect: Dr. Jonathan Crane. His charisma and good looks won't stand in the way of justice, or at least that's what she thinks.

Warnings| Mentions of self-harm in the beginning in accordance to the movie (Batman Begins 2005). Not explicitly discussed but implied sexist and misogynistic work environment. Some archaic language when discussing psychiatric hospitals bc I tried to follow the language that the movie used. Violence with needles, drugging someone. Gun is mentioned but not used. Knife is mentioned a lot but never used to inflict pain. Smut, dubious consent, unprotected sex, restraints.

word count: 6757k (long-ass story bc I didn't want to make separate posts)

Song for a Guilty Sadist- Crywank 🎶

Butch 4 Butch- Rio Romeo 🎵

IFHY (feat. Pharrell)- Tyler, The Creator 🎶

Please read warnings before continuing, thanks <3

i 

She had been following him for weeks, stealing into the shadows at every turn as Jonathan Crane walked through Gotham City’s Police Station. She’d been suspicious of him for months and with the men in the police force finally working up the nerve to investigate Gothem’s leading henchman, Falcone, she’d uncovered a theory that pointed simultaneously at the notorious psychiatrist. Of course, the men in her force had refused to believe her, reminding her of Crane’s long history with the department and work to establish Gothem’s Psychiatric Hospital for the Criminally Insane: Arkham Asylum. But the real reason why Crane had never been investigated was because of his status in the department of justice, and it didn’t hurt that the man was charismatic. He knew how to work the system to get what he wanted. 

Jonathan Crane had a reputation of declaring criminals insane after mere minutes of deliberation, especially those who happened to work with or for Falcone. She’d been in charge of carrying out Falcone’s case and taking him to trial as a detective for the prosecution. After being put in jail, Falcone had managed to slash his wrists just enough to draw attention and a little bit of blood. He was immediately flagged for psychiatric evaluation, bringing Jonathan Crane once again into the basement interrogation rooms to administer an interview. When he clamored down the steps onto the basement floor, she was waiting for him by the door into Falcone’s interrogation room.  

“Dr. Crane,” she greeted him with a smile, drawing every ounce of her long lost theater-kid days into play. 

“Miss —,” he remembered her name and shook her hand with a serious glint in his blue eyes, covered by harsh rectangular glasses. His handshake was firm and strong, and he made eye contact that still shook her even after speaking with him so many times before. She didn’t let it show, however, and nodded towards the door. 

“He cut his wrists last night during the changing of the guard but we don’t know how he even got access to the weapon that he used; and I’ve spoken with him numerous time since we processed him and he’s never given me any reason to suspect that he was mentally unstable, but of course, you are the professional. It’s better that he be evaluated anyway-”

“In case anything were to happen,” he finished for me and clenched his jaw. He gave a curt nod of his head and went inside, shutting the door behind him and drawing the blinds on the door closed. She scoffed quietly beneath her breath and clenched her fists. Don’t be fooled by his good looks or superior smile, she told herself, Jonathan Crane was capable of things that she didn’t know of yet. He was not someone to admire, he was someone to distrust. 

After only ten minutes of quiet murmuring, she could hear clear and blood curdling screams through the door. She knocked on the door, “Dr. Crane?” She called through the door but it opened in her face before she could do anything. He stood in the doorway, his dark hair falling into his pale, angular face. 

“He’s definitely what I would classify as mentally unstable,” he chuckled calmly as he side-stepped her and closed the door. He ran a hand through his hair and fixed the glasses perched on his nose. “I can’t treat him here, I’ll need to move him to Arkham.” 

“Are you sure?” She asked, more surprised than anything. He had started to walk down the hallway to the stairs when he turned around, stopping right in front of her face, his breath fanned across her face. 

“Are you questioning my diagnosis, detective?” He smirked, an underlying tone of warning below his wide-lipped smile. His blue eyes were unwavering as he studied her face, she swallowed to steady herself. 

“No, sir. Of course not.” She apologized and crossed her arms across her chest, ducking her head nervously. When she looked back up, his eyebrow was cocked. 

“Do I make you nervous, detective?” He smiled and she could tell he was setting a trap, attempting to make himself more likable, more trusting. As if he could be anything of the sort. She laughed lightly and met his eyes, holding his eye-contact defiantly. 

“No, sir.” She answered and he nodded. 

“Good day, Miss —.” He called with his back turned, walking to the stairs and climbing them quickly. She watched him leave and finally released a sigh of relief. There was something about him that unsettled her, but it was something that also attracted her with a devious strength, ripping factual and independent reasoning from her head. 

She had started following him when one of Falcone’s men had been moved to Arkham two weeks before. She switched her assignment for the day to escort the man to Arkham, getting a chance to see the asylum for herself. It was a large gothic building with a modern facade in the center of Gotham. The attendants at the door led the prisoner (or patient now) through the heavily guarded door into the hospital’s main ward that was closed to visitors. Even police or other officials had to obtain a special license that granted them clearance into the institution. The second time she’d stepped inside, she was following a few yards behind Crane, studying how he actually entered the building. They had a separate entrance for the asylum’s psychiatrists at the side of the building by the alley. She waited a few minutes for Crane to enter the building before she approached the guard stationed at the door and flashed her badge. He’d allowed her in but warned that he’d lose his job if he did it again. The next time she followed him, she would need a new method of entering the building, one that didn’t alert Crane that she was in the building in case he got suspicious. When she entered it was easier to blend in so she followed the maze of hallways until she reached a small hub with arrows guiding attendants to the different wards of the hospital. Dr. Crane’s office was included in the psychiatrist ward (funny they had their own ward). 

The psychiatrists each had their own labs, whether or not they used them was their own business, but she knew for sure that Crane used his but for what, she didn’t know. Walking down the hallway to his office, she peeked inside the wide panel of glass into his lab. He had one assistant who was copying his notes into a binder for Crane but quickly left when Crane shooed him away from the set of beakers and vials of powders he was working with. She flattened herself against the wall and pretended to answer a call on her phone as the assistant passed her in the hallway. She hurried to leave the institute, leaving through the same door she entered, thanking the security guard discreetly. 

This time as she watched Crane climb the stairs, she pulled aside a police officer and explained Falcone’s transfer. The officer nodded and left to initiate the transfer to Arkham, Falcone’s hysterical screams still audible through the thick steel door. Crane tugged at the starched collar of his shirt as he crossed the lobby of the police station, sighing in relief. Falcone had tried to corner him. Him! Falcone may have been powerful but he was stupid and Crane didn’t have patience for stupidity especially from someone who was supposed to be a criminal mastermind. News flash: he wasn’t. Falcone was sloppy and arrogant, he didn’t take his own threats seriously. He’d threatened to tell the police about Crane’s experimental drug concoctions but in reality, he still didn’t know the full extent of what Crane was planning to do to Gotham. 

“You don’t know anything,” Crane said pointedly, tired of Falcone’s attitude. 

“I know that half of the drugs we moved belong to you and the police still don’t know what they are or what they can do.” Falcone scratched his greasy nose. Crane almost laughed. He removed his glasses and sighed, reaching into his open briefcase. 

As soon as the words, “would you like to see my mask,” left his mouth, Falcone was done for. The only thing that had inspired a shred of panic for Crane was hearing the girl’s voice through the steel door, calling his name. He expected her to open the door and see his mask, and while he had an explanation that a normal officer would believe, he knew that she was different. He didn’t trust her but something about her made him laugh. She was good looking and smart but too invested in his work and he didn’t like that. He’d have to keep an eye on the young detective, Miss —. In fact, he’d like to strap her down… hide her away in his asylum and play with her head like he did with his other playthings - - - oops - - - patients. Same thing.

ii 

She pretended that her plan was straightforward, it was the only way that she could convince herself to go through with it. No one else in her department would have had the balls to sneak into the asylum where once you went in, you may not be able to leave, that is- if Dr. Crane diagnosed you accordingly. She left a note on her desk in her office, explaining where she was going and the evidence she had already collected. Photos, “destroyed” medical records, and recent missing shipments from cargo ships including one micro-wave machine meant for warfare. She made copies of everything and hid them away in a special box directed to the only person she really trusted in her department, Sgt. Gordon. Even if someone dumped the notes on her desk, Sgt. Gordon would find the box of evidence, she knew. Falcone had been transferred the day before and was nearing his second night in the institution, now was her time to investigate what he was planning to do to him and why. 

She stashed a small knife at her thigh, having learned that a woman had to carry multiple weapons in this city if she wanted to protect herself, which unfortunately, happened often. She checked her weapon and put it in her holster at the small of her back. She was wearing a gray quarter length top tucked into a black skirt. She pulled on her straight black leather coat and closed the door to her office, locking the door. She knew that Crane would be in his office, he almost never went home, and with Falcone there and at risk to disclose sensitive information, he would be sure to stay close by. 

The sun had already set hours before when she approached Arkham Asylum. Each window was bright with light but it didn’t make the building any more welcoming. She shivered as she approached the side door, seeing a different security guard at the door. He stood when she approached, not recognizing her.  

“Stand down, officer. I’m detective — on police business,” she showed him her badge.

“You’ll have to check in at the front, detective.” The officer sat back down with a nod. 

“My business here is strictly confidential; Dr. Crane said I could enter in this way.” She pointed at the side door and the officer looked nervously at her. He reached for his walkie-talkie. 

“I’m here about Falcone. I am the detective assigned to his case, he was transferred here two days ago. I’m supposed to meet with Dr. Crane about some of the things Falcone has said during his initial treatment. Because of the sensitivity of Falcone’s case in the department, as I’m sure you know, the department has asked that we keep this confidential. No one inside can know that I was here to meet about Falcone. We haven’t told the public yet that he’s been transferred here. Your compliance is necessary for this.” She lied out of her ass but the officer nodded slowly when she finished, his eyes widening at the mention of Falcone’s name. 

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry for delaying you. It’s just business.” 

“I understand completely, thank you officer.” She smiled kindly as the officer scanned her in. Once she was inside she hid her police badge and followed the path she had scouted days before, following the black arrows to the psychiatrist ward (again, funny that they had their own ward- almost as if they were patients themselves). Her black mary janes squeaked quietly as she finally turned onto the hallway where Dr. Crane’s office was located. A row of fluorescent bulbs flickered ominously and she rolled her eyes, silently cursing the asylum for its additional eeriness. His lab was empty and dark and his office was empty though the lights were still on. An assistant passed her, coming from a different lab with a pile of boxes in her arms. 

“Excuse me, do you know where Dr. Crane is right now?” She asked the assistant who shuffled the boxes in her arms to answer. 

“I saw him in the ward with the new transfer patients just before I picked these up, so he’s probably about to start a sit-down with a patient. Do you have an appointment with him?” She asked curiously, knowing it was too late for a business meeting. 

“No, I work in the office and I was going to request a few files to finish a transfer of a patient but it seems that he’s busy. I’ll try tomorrow morning. Thank you!” She smiled and the assistant nodded. 

“Have a nice night,” the assistant hurried off down the corridor into the hub. She wasted no time in checking the door to Crane’s office which was miraculously unlocked. She hurried inside and closed the door, making sure that she left everything as she had found it. The door to the lab was located inside Crane’s office, so she entered the lab through the office. The blinds were closed to the outside so she opened the flashlight on her phone and scanned the dark lab tables for the powders she had seen before. The room smelled heavily of chemicals and cleaning solution and it was hard to breathe normally already because she was nervous. The first table was empty of anything but the second was set up for what looked to be his next round of testing. A box that looked like a closed mouse trap was set up on the table. There was a single switch on the top of the box which she knew better than to turn but she examined it nonetheless, hoping to see what it may contain. A tray of petri dishes full of powder sat beside it. Each was marked with a different series of numbers and letters, denoting their different status, she assumed. She recognized the series on one of the dishes: F7jw009. The number had appeared on the list of drugs recovered from Falcone’s drug transport. It was one that hadn’t yet been tested to see what it was composed of. She didn’t recognize the two other dishes but she assumed the powder and the mousetrap device were used for the same thing.

There was a small bookcase attached to the base of the lab table and she crouched, scanning the spines. The books on the top, free of dust, were on phobias. A bound scientific paper on the chemical structure of fear sat on top of the textbooks. She picked it up and flipped through the pages, noticing strokes of pen and notes on many of the pages. In the centerfold of the paper, she saw a picture of a cartoon scarecrow, one from a halloween decoration. It looked like it had been ripped from a kid’s storybook. She stared at the picture, struggling to place where she had heard about a scarecrow before in the precinct… she flipped farther through the pages and landed on a second photo shoved between the pages. It was a drawing of a mask made of burlap. The mask resembled a scarecrow’s face, she furrowed her eyebrows, more uneasy. Finally, she flipped to the very end where she found a clear note detailing what Crane thought the synopsis of the paper had been: 

Fear can be constructed using a series of complex compounds and put into an admissible form. They have already invented serums that temporarily remove the presence of fear by blocking certain receptors in the brain that receive signals of distress or pain. By doing the very opposite, temporarily numbing the receptors that calm the nervous system when danger has been averted, fight or flight is heightened and the human mind is more susceptible to the suggestion of danger and terror. Fear merely needs to be suggested to elicit a response after the brain is prepped for the reaction. Fear can be weaponized. Building the compounds of fear into a powder, the drug can be administered immediately into the air and receive a simultaneous reaction. Pills? Water? How can we distribute this powder? What is the easiest way to administer fear to the entire population? 

iii 

The distinct click of a door opening and closing shocked her back to attention. She put the bound paper back onto the shelf and switched off the light on her phone. In the dark she scrambled into a hidden alcove inside the lab behind one of the hooded chemical boxes. She was pretty sure that the lab’s closet would be shared with the lab next door but she couldn’t remember which side of the room it was on. Dr. Crane had gone into his office and removed his suit jacket. He was too excited by Falcone’s reaction to his fear serum in powder form and he needed to get a handle on himself. It was nearly midnight when he checked his watch. Most of his colleagues would be gone by now, just the night staff remained to look after the patients. Night was the perfect time to work undisturbed in his lab, especially because his assistant couldn’t know the full extent of his research into the chemical compounds of human fear. He slipped his coat over the back of his desk chair and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. 

He exhaled slowly and removed a stack of papers from his desk, flipping through them as he opened the door into his lab and kicked the door closed with the heel of his shoe. His elbow flicked on the lightswitch and he spread out the papers on the first lab table, seemingly absorbed by the chemical structures his assistant had prepared for him to review. He scribbled a note in red pen on the corner of the document, berating his assistant for his obvious mistake with one of the compound structures. What was this? High school chemistry class? He licked his thumb and turned the page, writing another note in the margin. 

“I know you’re here, Miss —.” He smiled, not looking up from his notes. He tossed the first set of pages further down the table and moved to the next one. “You and your perfume… I can always tell where you’ve been by your scent. I don’t think you’re naive enough to wear perfume in your field, especially when on your little jaunts into other people’s business. So, the lovely smell is from your shampoo, I venture. You use an expensive brand of shampoo because you think that your hair is your best attribute, and I agree, it's one of the best. Your job makes you feel dirty too, doesn’t it? This city makes you feel dirty and so you wash your hair every night with the same sulfate-free shampoo to get the smell of our city out of your system. Your shampoo smells like mint and you like it the best because it makes your head feel cleaner, tingly,” he laughed and moved to the next stack of stapled papers. “And that’s why you chose this job, a detective, because you feel like you’re cleaning up our streets; removing all of the bad blood of Gotham but it’s been a disappointment to say the least. The system is backwards, though you knew that from the beginning, you thought you could fix it. You want things to be right and I don’t blame you, so do I.” 

Dr. Crane finished writing a note on the last paper and capped the pen. He circled the table once before moving to the second table. 

“I’m cleaning the city in my own way, I guess you could say. This city needs a restart button, a way to begin everything again and start fresh. Fear can do that, fear can be controlled and it controls.” 

She could barely breathe, her back was pressed against the wall of his lab. She was scared and she knew that he knew. Fear was his thing, his kink and she anticipated the absolute worst as she waited out her fate, wondering how long it would take for him to find her or if she could manage to escape. 

“This machine can diffuse the compounded form of fear. I’ve used it on most of your suspects, all of them Faclone’s men. I even used it on Falcone himself. Oh, I wish you could have seen his face! The second the powder entered his system he abandoned the arrogant criminal persona, he reverted back to who he was at his very core. He was suddenly controllable and easy to manage. So you see how this could be used to clean up Gotham. It’s a way to seize back control of our city, take it away from the people who run it now; the sycophants and billionaires.” 

Crane pulled a needle from the drawer at his hip and flicked the glass tube. Her chest rose and fell in a state of panic. Dr. Crane leaned against the counter calmly. 

“That’s why you like me. I’m clean. I’m orderly and smart. I’m the opposite of the criminal justice system that reminds you of this dirty city. And, Y/N, that’s why I like you.”

She tensed at his use of her first name. She’d never heard him use it before and it sent a chill down her spine. She reached for her gun. Dr. Crane rounded the corner and stabbed the needle into her neck, pushing the tranquilizer into her bloodstream. She wobbled before slumping back against the wall. She managed to push past him and run for the office door but the drugs worked almost immediately and her legs began to go numb. She couldn’t feel anything below her waist and she worried that he would break her legs running without being able to feel which bones she was using to get away. She collapsed on the floor of the lab and looked up at Dr. Crane who smiled down at her, his hair disheveled. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he cooed and crouched at her feet, “I applaud you for your efforts. You may have succeeded had I not recognized the smell of your shampoo. I know you’ve been here before. You’re a smart girl but I won this game, and the victor gets the spoils. That’s how it works, Miss —.” He crawled over her and pulled the needle from her neck. She didn’t even feel it. Her hair that he loved so much was fanned out on the floor, falling in loose curls. He twirled a curl between his fingers and nodded approvingly. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll treat you with the utmost respect. Afterall, you are my colleague, of sorts,” he shrugged and stood up, straddling her. “It’s a pity that you became a detective. You would have done well in this bloodthirsty field because,” he disappeared for a moment and returned with a set of keys which he slipped into his front pocket, “you’re like me.” 

He pulled her up and put one of her arms around his shoulder, supporting the brunt of her weight that way. Though he was small and lanky, he was muscular and strong. He dragged her through the door in his lab that connected to a separate room that she hadn’t even noticed. He flipped the light switch with his elbow and sighed with pleasure when the room was lit up with light. 

“Here it is. This is where the real fun happens, Y/N. This is where I test my new treatments on our most psychotic patients. Falcone will be here soon, perhaps tomorrow once you and I finish our discussion.” The room was smaller than the lab and housed what looked like a mortuary slab. She tried to scream but her mouth was numb. He dragged her to the table and lifted her onto the flat surface. The numerous straps he buckled around her waist, her wrists, and her feet. When she was secured onto his table, he pushed a peddle at his foot which titled the table forward, propping her more upright. 

“Ah, and now I can finally see you,” Dr. Crane smiled and moved her hair so that it was caught behind her back. He straightened her hair against her chest, running his fingers through the strands. He moved a stool in front of the table and sat on it, his legs spread and his arms across against his chest. “Do I make you nervous now, detective?” He smirked and chuckled darkly when she couldn’t respond. “It will wear off soon. It’s one of those doses that act quickly but then wear off just as quickly. I wouldn’t do anything to you while you were in this state. What kind of man would I be if I did that?” 

He watched her for a few minutes, his bright blue eyes trailing up and down her body. She knew what that look meant from men. Her gun was so close and yet she knew she wouldn't be able to reach it even when she regained control over her body. While he waited, he arranged numerous tools and vials around the room, humming softly to himself. She could feel herself starting to get feeling back in her stomach as the blood recirculated from her heart. Her hands and her feet took the longest to twitch awake. She dropped her head from left to right, groaning in the absence of words. Dr. Crane came back and checked her pulse, pinching her wrist and counting the seconds on his watch. 

“Good girl, you’re coming back. Can you speak yet?” He supported her chin with his hand and when she didn’t answer he nodded. “That’s all right. You’re all right.” He soothed her and she couldn’t help but relax as his eyes checked over her. “Now, Miss —, where are your weapons?” He posed the question theoretically and touched her, she flinched beneath his hands. He felt around her waist and inside her jacket. “There aren’t many places to hide it.” He whispered and wrapped his hands around her waist, finding the gun at the small of her back. “Ah, here it is.” He smiled as he took the gun from its holster and tossed it onto a small lab table. “You have something else, don’t you. You’re smart so of course, you have a second weapon.”  He licked his lips, thinking but it didn’t take him long to trail his hands up her thighs, glancing up into her eyes as he did. Her skirt rose as he felt below it and soon, his fingers were on top of the knife’s handle. 

“What do we have here?” He lifted her skirt, showing the knife’s hiding place at the top of her thigh. “This is honestly almost funny so forgive me if I laugh.” He ripped the knife from the holster and she cried out as much as she could, terrified by his quick movement. He let her skirt fall back into place and twirled the knife in his hand, examining the small blade. “You’ve just made my night so much more interesting, Miss —.” He smirked darkly. 

iv 

She finally regained her ability to speak though her words were jumbled and hard to get out around her tongue.

“Use your words, honey.” Dr. Crane frowned frustratedly. 

“Please…” she managed, “don’t… hurt… me.” She pushed the words out and he listened carefully. 

“Oh but it’s so hard to resist when you so willingly came here and with your own weapons. Can you see how this might be hard for me?” He furrowed his brow as he spoke and she couldn’t tell what was sarcasm and what was real. 

“It was nothing personal… I had a job to do.” She whispered weakly and he cocked his head, his lips parted. 

“You know it's funny because Falcone’s men all said the same thing. I know you didn’t work with them… but I can make it look like you did.” He whispered close to her face and her chest clenched with fear. “I can do whatever I want, do you understand? I have the power to say that you checked yourself in and I evaluated you. I found you on the verge of a psychotic breakdown because we all know you were already prone to hysterics. But your office shouldn’t worry because I’ll be your psychiatrist. And so what if you happen to disappear- go missing? No one comes in here, except for you, and that was stupid.” 

“You might die tonight, detective. I’m sorry to say it because you are one of the most attractive women I have met in Gotham and I fear that you have ruined our chances of continuing this to a second date.” He studied the curvature of her clavicle as it dipped above her sternum. Not knowing what else to do, she kissed him. Dr. Crane stiffened as her lips met his. He pulled away, stopping short a few inches from her mouth.

“What are you doing?” He raised his eyebrow. 

“If I’m going to die, I might as well make the most of it,” she shrugged and kissed him again, her head leaning as far forward as she could reach. She hoped that she sounded truthful enough. He pulled away again and stared at her, his forehead creased as he watched her. She panted softly, straining against her restraints. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest had broken out into hives from the stress. Fear made her even more beautiful. Going against his better judgment, he leaned forward into her and kissed her hesitantly. Slowly, he began to kiss her more aggressively, his tongue dragging against the roof of her mouth before he captured her top lip in a deep kiss. Her hands instinctively went to reach for his hair but they snapped back against the table. He broke away, panting, and took a few steps back, resting his back against the wall. 

“I don’t trust you,” he put his hands on his hips, still holding the knife. 

“What can I do, Jonathan?” She tried using his first name and he raised an eyebrow again, “I can’t move, no one can hear me scream, you’re going to kill me… what reason is there left to trust me? So, either kiss me or go ahead and kill me.” She nearly cried, overwhelmed and terrified. Her plan had been to seduce him, to use most men’s fatal flaw against him, but she worried that it wouldn’t work with Dr. Jonathan Crane. In a way, she had planned for this. The evidence was back in her office waiting to be discovered. She hadn’t gotten a chance to take pictures of the lab but maybe depending on how far he went with this, she could get away. But God, even though she was terrified and held on a slab against her will, he was beautiful. He was looking at her with his aquamarine eyes, his black hair gelled and falling around his face. Even his glasses looked perfect on his face. 

“Jonathan…” she started with a shakily voice, “despite why I came today and what you’ve told me about what you want to do to Gotham, right now, more than anything, I want you to come here and kiss me because while I may hate you and you may be the cause of my death, I want you. Give me some comfort if you’re going to take everything away from me.” 

“Freud would have some things to say about you, Y/N.” He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and studied the edge of the knife. “Your psychology is so interesting,” he flicked his eyes up to her’s and set the knife down on the table. “To study you…” he trailed off as he loosened his tie and ripped it from his neck. He approached her, standing far enough away that she couldn’t reach him with her mouth. She exhaled, waiting. “I almost studied anatomy,” he pushed a hand against her navel, holding her even more in place. 

“Why didn’t you?” She whispered. 

“I loved the human mind too much to abandon it,” he smiled and drew a hand up her thigh. Her muscles spasmed beneath his hand. He leaned in against her ear, “I know you’re scared of me,” he whispered calmly, “and isn’t that incredible? That you can be so afraid of something that you want so much?” His hand pulled down her underwear and it stretched between her open thighs, held apart by the restraints. His hand went further still, gently tracing the folds of her labia. She knew that she was wet and it embarrassed her, though she knew it helped confirm her story that she wanted him, he didn’t seem to care either way. His thumb rubbed her clit as he slowly inserted his middle finger into her, pushing past the initial resistance. She always hated fingering because it didn’t feel like how people pretended it did. That being said, she sighed as he gently inserted a second finger and pulled against the top of her cunt, fingering her slowly. 

“The body holds fear because our bodies hold memories,” he explained as he pressed her clit harder. “I can find what really scares you and I can fix it.” 

“I’m scared of you,” she whispered, her breath escaping in a sharp pant. 

“I can fix that.” 

He pulled his fingers out of her and held her neck still against the table as he kissed her. The sense of urgency to fight and escape melted into an afterthought when the back of his hand slid slowly down one side of her neck, making the tendons flex. He held her neck still as he kissed down to her collarbones, licking their shelves and tracing the bone with his tongue. His free hand groped her breast over her tight shirt and then surrounded her waist. She started shifting her hips back and forth, wishing that she had something between them to relieve the pressure she felt. He smiled against her skin and clicked his tongue, pulling away from her. He pressed the pedal again with his foot and the table reclined once again as it had been. He climbed onto the table and sat above her on his knees, looking down at her as she panted. 

“Look at me,” he told her and made sure that her eyes met his. “I have no plans to kill you tonight and I know this act is solely for the benefit of your own survival. But knowing that I will not kill you, would you like to change your mind?” He put both hands around her waist, showing the pale flesh of his forearms. She tried to weigh her options, she tried to think clearly but it all felt like a dream. It didn’t feel real enough to have consequences, so she shook her head and licked her lips quickly.

“No, keep going.” She whispered, “please.” Dr. Crane chuckled lightly and trailed his fingers down to her ankles. 

“In that case, would you like to see my mask?” He smiled darkly, teasing her. 

“No, I want to see your face.” She answered calmly and he nodded. 

“Fine.” He removed the restraints around her ankles. He took the knife from the table and cut away her underwear with one strong swipe of the blade. She gasped and he smirked, “I’m a doctor, remember? I know how to use a knife, detective.” 

He put the knife aside and pulled her knees up, sitting between them. He unbuckled his pants and withdrew his erection, glistening with precum. He guided himself into her with his hand, his eyes never leaving her face. She gasped again as he entered her. He rocked his hips slowly back and forth and groaned, watching her mouth open in a silent moan. She raised her knees higher, closer to her chest, giving him a better angle at which to fuck her. His hands pressed against her stomach and his thrusts became faster as his body began to learn hers. 

“You’re getting wetter,” he observed with a sly smile, “I must be doing something right.” He teased her as he started to rub her clit with his thumb, the rest of his hand pressed against her uterus. She couldn’t even speak. It had been months since she’d last had sex and even then, it wasn’t good sex. “I’m going to go harder but you can take it,” he told her matter of factly and placed either hand by her hips on the table. Leaning forward he shifted his hips slowly but harder, going deeper without much care for how her body adapted to the thrusts. “There you go,” he grunted as his hips bucked rhythmically into hers. She cried out, her body sliding up and down against the table, hot with her perspiration. Holding onto the top of the table, he moved farther up, pushing more inside of her, and started thrusting fast. He was suddenly in so deep and only backing away a few inches before snapping back in. Her hips bounced off of his and she gripped the excess material around her wrists to help her stay stationary. 

“Slow… God, please! Slow down… its so much, fuck.” She whimpered and smiled down at her face, flushed and angry with red. He slowed his hips, squeezing his glutes together whenever he thrusted inside. He leaned down and kissed her slowly, still rocking in and out of her. Her body shuttered from the high and started to build a more even climax. She hummed against his lips, her voicing getting higher as she started to orgasm. 

“And here comes the orgasm,” Jonathan smiled and sped up slightly, leaving hickies up and down her neck. She orgasmed with a shuttering cry that she couldn’t cover with her hand, but he didn’t let her finish there. “Fuck, you got so tight again.” He groaned as she panted, her system overwhelmed with waves of pleasure and exertion. She started to tighten further around him as her thighs squeezed his hips. Her breath left her lungs in short pants and she moaned beneath him like a pitiful creature. “Are you cumming again?” He laughed and stroked her cheek. She nodded weakly and he kissed her again briefly. 

“Its so tight, fuck. I won’t last much longer like this.” He took her hips in his hands and started a steady rhythm, pulling her hips onto his cock and thrusting at the same time. She came around him and he groaned animalistically, his thrusts becoming more sporadic and needy. He watched her breasts bounce inside her shirt and how he slid in and out of her, her cum collecting at the base of his shaft. Finishing with fast, desperate movements, he moaned loudly. She felt him finish inside her and it felt almost better than if she had finished herself. He pulled down her bottom lip with his thumb and admired her fucked-out face. Her pupils were shot and she shook slightly from the high. Finally, he pulled out and stuffed himself back into his pants. He sighed as he straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his hair. He took the gun and the knife and stuffed them both into a drawer and locked it with a set of keys from his pocket. They stared at each other for a while until Jonathan broke the silence, clearing his throat. 

“You’re coming home with me tonight, Miss —. We’ll decide what to do with you later.” 

[renguro]

Now that S2 is almost over, I wanted to finally get out that post talking about all of the insights and things I did, learned, or other fun stuff about the countdown pieces I made. I still have something in mind for the S2 finale, so maybe if you read (or skip) to the end I'll have a preview for you?

Oh god here we go One day I was coming home from work and decided to check how many days there were until the new season released and I found it was 7 days. So I did all of these in 7 days. Literally everyone was worried about me because I did nothing but draw for those 7 days.

... Except for when I went back to work. I worked I came home and then drew until I literally couldn't anymore lmao. I remember being dazed and exhausted after the Clock Keepers and my dad came up to my room literally right as I finished and asked, "Have you gone to sleep?" And I said, "NOPE! :D" I was living on energy drinks

I'm also 90% sure this started the "ren you're doing too much you need to chill the hell out" thing with me and my friends now

When I was doing these, I had only read the first ten volumes of Hanako-kun at the time, so I was stopped right in the middle of Picture Perfect. I had the second box set, but I just hadn't gotten the time to read it since I got it for Christmas. That means I didn't know Shijima's full deal, and I didn't even know Hakubo's name, so I was winging it hard.

All of the full pieces are linked by clicking their names :)

NO.7 HANAKO

You can tell from the speedpaint I was struggling hard with the pose lmao. I honestly felt like the one I chose was a cop-out and didn't feel energetic enough, but the time crunch got me. At this point, I was also really unsure about how I wanted to treat the colors, because I'd only just started dipping into seriously studying how Aida does it. So many references. And him wearing basically all black didn't help I wanted to scream. I was TRYING to keep everything as solid colors without falling back on overlay and multiply layers, but I got desperate. Still looks pretty good I think.

My favorite part was probably the hakujoudai and the detailing on his collar/shoulders! If I were to edit anything, I think I'd put more on the bottom half of the background because it feels a touch empty. kinda killed it on this pant leg and his hat tho

NO.6 HAKUBO

Like I said, I had no idea who Hakubo was. For the first half of things, I couldn't even find his name, I was just calling him "Shinigami-sama..." I wasn't going to go trampling into spoilers just for references either, so I was freaking out on what to do for the background. All I knew was that there was something to do with lotuses or bugs, and already having an idea of where I'd take Tsuchigomori, I took the lotus route. I uh also hope I didn't make his face too feminine. I don't know why but when drawing male characters who are larger or more built (even if it didn't turn out obvious in this piece) I somehow keep making them look like butches.

Shading his hair was the most fun part out of all of this, I usually never draw characters with hair as short as his, so it was a fun challenge! I'm also just a sucker for kimonos and flowy clothes. He was probably one of the most fun ones for me, even if he was so early on. I LOVE the texture I got on the skull. (even if it's technically too small.)

NO.5 TSUCHIGOMORI

Tsuchigomori onwards ALL used this sticky note full of thumbnails I drew at work for reference. Yes that is a note next to him that says + cuntier. He was also drawn on the same day that I did Hakubo, so I managed to buy myself some extra time.

I was so excited for this one because I could see it so well in my mind's eye, until I realized how many hands I'd need to draw. And then I sucked it up and locked in because I love Tsuchigomori. I'm so pleased with how I worked in more of the blues into the shading and his hair. It was at this point that I think I was understanding how I wanted to take the colors for all of these pieces! I enjoyed doing the fun trick I learned with the weave on his sweater and the spiderwebs where I drew a thick like and then erased the middle. Nearly forgot the markings on his forehead too lmao.

I wonder whose black book he's reading?

NO.4 SHIJIMA

Oh Shijima. I truly had zero real clue about her, and I managed to dodge spoilers about Mei even when I was looking up references. That's why she's painting using her paintbrush clone haha. It's still cute though, so I'm keeping it. Her hair kept giving me trouble because it's the kind of hair you draw and don't really realize just how big you're drawing it until you have to fix it. Actually, I'm having that exact issue on what I'm working on right now, and I'll fix it after I take a break.

I dug up a comment I made while I was working on it and I still stand by this.

There's also something a little odd about the positioning of her chin that I was too exhausted to fix, and I SUPER fudged the coloring on her hair. Also I really didn't know what to put in the background OTHER than the atelier, but I can't really draw buildings! So uh! The exhaustion was beginning to set in after 3 days of this. (Since Hakubo and Tsuchigomori were done on the same day. I didn't keep that time advantage for long though.)

think i fudged it okay, though.

NO.3 MITSUBA

I was struggling on Mitsuba some because that thing where you see/read something and then forget about it only for it to arise as something you think you did happened. That pose I thumbnailed on the sticky note was WAY too close to the official Hell of Mirrors standee/art. Luckily I contain extreme Mitsuba bias (shocker) and I was able to figure it out. I had a ton of problems shading his coat just like I did with Hanako. It's so hard to keep things from melding together when you've mostly got them wearing black.

It's an odd thing to be proud about, but I feel I did the best on the.. Legs of his pants, the chains and lockets, and the eyes and teeth on his jacket. That and the ribcage scarf. I'm really disappointed in myself for the background and his hair, if I'm being honest. I wanna fix his eyes. I STILL haven't figured out his hair either too. Which makes me even more surprised that my friends said, ren, your bias is showing on this one because I was like IS IT??? ARE YOU CERTAIN?

his hand turned out nice too and did i mention i had fun on the ribcage

NO.2 YAKO

I sketched the first initial draft for Yako on the same day I drew Hakubo and Tsuchigomori, but when it finally came time to sit down and draw her? I realized there would be so much empty space where I couldn't have fun with colors and it'd just be the white back of her kimono, so I turned her around and scrapped the idea of her fox form curling around her. I couldn't fit fox Yako in, and I'm STILL kind of bummed about that.

The flow of her hair was so much fun to figure out, as well as the patterns on her kimono. I'm really happy with the background, combining the aspects of the Misaki Stairs' original version and the one after she's been removed from her seat with the spider lilies. The lilies themselves are a little fudged if you look too close, so... Don't look too close? :3

loved the kimono. every bit. can't believe i had her turned around.

NO.1 AKANE/MIRAI/KAKO

MY FAVORITE PART ABOUT THIS WAS THE COGS IN THE BACKGROUND SORRY AKANE'S FACE BOTHERS ME I NEED TO FIX IT ONE DAY HE LOOKS TOO OLD I WAS LOSING MY MIND AND THE EXHAUSTION WAS KILLING ME IT BEGAN MY HATE OF DRAWING AKANE'S HAIR BECAUSE *GESTURES VAGUELY*

Uh okay some good things to say about this one... The colors were a ton of fun to figure out how to place, and I think I at least did a good job on that part. Shading gold things is always really fun! And at least Akane's ponytail was fun to make flow, I was riding the high from Yako's hair here. I think I got a lot of that fun flowy movement in here, which I'm pleased about. This was another one that my friends say turned out the best, again that I'm ??? about.

these cogs are my everything

FINAL THOUGHTS + EXTRAS

All of the kanji's colorings for their numbers were taken directly from the anime! I don't really wanna get rid of that fun reference even if in like, Tsuchigomori's case the colors are REALLY different from the main piece.

Most of the first day was spent on, Hanako of course, and then setting up the frames for everyone else to go into. I spent money to get the patterns to go on the colored part, actually. Constraining everyone to the frames helped a LOT in terms of balancing myself and made it fun to choose what elements would stick outside of them. If I pushed for entire full backgrounds, then I would have been doing even worse.

I was on the ropes at the end. I was half dead and drawing like I was possessed. And the catharsis of it being done and it all looking acceptable just. Ough. I don't know if I'll ever have a high like that again. There's an evil, evil part of me that says, ren! redraw all of them for s3 under the exact same constraints! And shit I might but I'll complain about it. I think it's more likely though that I go back and doctor them up some so I can print them as standees. Probably just for myself, but I do want to build a stock for artist alleys.

I had so, so much fun overall even if it was so much it really could have put my already bad health in more danger. I learned so much about coloring, lineart, framing things, and I really attribute my gauntlet to the explosion in my art progress. That, and my sheer adoration for this series. Am I rambling? I just love TBHK. It's only been 5 months since I first discovered it and it's done so, so much for me.

Even if you went and scrolled through all of this nonsense, which I don't blame you for, here's a little preview of what I'm trying to finish by next week for the finale.

I can't believe we're on the final episode! It's so close now, and it keeps flooring me how little time has really passed. I'll try and push to get SOMETHING else done before then, but we'll see. I've got so much I want and have to get done.