gloomyteddybear

[gloomyteddybear]

y'all remember that time danny was writing his soggy notes in his a/c-less car and fell asleep like he didn't live in fucking florida and woke up drowning in his own sweat

[gloomyteddybear]

Just one chance PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

[gloomyteddybear]

Dbd doodles

guess my old mains challenge impossible

Sewing doodle inspired by @breadtreez's post on pinterest 🔥

Its supposed to say "it would be silly" btw i just can't type

[gloomyteddybear]

like i knooooow ghostfaces little floaty straps are just cosmetic flair because he's the entity's favorite little incel but i think it'd be fun if they become a part of his body

and it'd be really fun to pull on them-

[gloomyteddybear]

fix the air-conditioner

oneshot

cw/tw: some unegotiated sadism and implied noncon-somno(?) by danny. weird fluff on the end. then again, he is a conniving manipulative murderer.

reader is off-handedly mentioned topping but it's mostly to add emphasis, dw power bottoms. 

weirdly enough, this is chronologically the first smut i wrote of him. ig i got the writer's block.

this took too long to make, ugh.

his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you inside the back-seat of the car as your foot tripped on the piles of loose paper on the carpet, back thudding harshly against the cardoor, one dirty shoe flat on the floor and the other on the seat cushion.

jed climbed on top, pulling your leg--- neck getting dug into by the cupholder-door-handle of the door and head bumping against hard cushion--- until you had to fold your leg to fit on the seat then pinning you down by the hip.

"what are you---" as soon as you tried to steady upright, jed's hand pushed you back onto the seat, forcing his entire weight down on your chest.

despite leaving his jacket somewhere on the floor, he was still wearing layers, you feel like a victorian prude glancing at the small sliver of skin.

his voice whispered your name, breath warmed the shell of your ear with every tone and vowel. he kissed you chaste on the lips then dived to your throat.

a warm tongue grazed your neck, his mouth circled the skin in a light peck before sucking. his hair tickled your cheek as he moved to trail marks onto your neck further down to the collarbone, aiming for something, anything that made you falter or make your breath hitch. like a cat kneading on you, claws included.

he bit you, not in the sexy way, skin pinched between surprisingly sharp teeth, you hissed in pain.

he moaned at the sound, suddenly drew away from you, a look of shame painting his face, "s-sorry! sorry! i don't know what came over me," he traced the bruises on your neck, eyes filled with anxiety and hunger, like a dog being trained not to bite, "are you okay?"

you hated pain, but you hated seeing him like this more, "keep going." he sucked in a breath at this.

his breath fanned your neck, chapped lips scratching the raw skin of his handiwork, the soft barrier of teeth touching such a vulnerable artery, kissing and licking and worshiping. his hands moved upwards your shoulders, gripping them tightly (tight enough to sink into skin and leave marks) to finally give you a final peck on the lips, resting his feverish forehead against yours.

"need you so bad, i missed you so much... i've been waiting this for so long..."

"bad enough to pull me into a toaster oven?" you joke.

his silence is telling.

you breathe heavily, air heavy with sweat and lacking the telltale hum of air conditioner.

your body moves with the weight of being underwater, moving onto your elbows to glare at through the seat blocking your view of the broken mechanism, "you still didn't fix that thing?!" you can feel your brain melt and become lighter with the heat.

there wasn't a lot of comfortable rooms for a cramped space. barrel something fish other.

he smiled tightly, "you don't really notice it once you get used to it, you know?" he sheepishly explains.

you huff, a bead of that sticked to your face slipping down into a more itchy spot, "how many minutes until we both pass out of heatstroke?"

"i guess less than thirty minutes?"

god, you can see the scenery behind the windows grow foggy. the frosted layer of condensation making it look like you were stranded and outside was vaporized. 

"this'll be a really-really quick one then." as soon as those words left your mouth, he punched his lips against yours.

you felt his tongue on your bottom-lip, you opened your mouth and grabbed onto his shoulder for stability as he pressed further against you, fingers harshly gripping your head and face--- front teeth nearly clicking against eachother at the hurried almost desperate pace, you felt sharp teeth nearly nick your tongue the few times you managed to actually reciprocate.

through the fog of heat and your dwindling supply of oxygen, you remember that you don't have time to take off your clothes. too much energy and you don't think the heat-fog would allow you to find a condom that wasn't melted. so any-way-in-shape-or-form of penetrative sex is throw out of the window and sizzling outside, and weird-desperate-feverish-delirious humping it is.

but his fucking jeans. you wince. ouch.

he pulled back, arms hanging around your neck and his crooked glasses all fogged up, "wait." he breathes into your mouth, unmakes his belt and yours, settles both hands on the window for leverage---then finally speeds up, rubbing his dick against the tender spot that was once muffled by your own clothes, panting with every effort. 

his slack jaw morphs into an adoring, wobbly grin (all-teeth and hungry); you can't tell if it's the temperature or if it's him that melts you. he's so perfect. you can't help but kiss his jaw, wrench his hips to fit against yours harder, and grind him down into sticky paste.

jed wails your name and grips the cushion behind him and his back arches back, shifting his whole body to get the perfect angle for you both. god, it looked like he was riding you.

he looked drunk, hair and clothes disheveled, eyes half-lidded--- yet surprisingly sober in it's intensity. his face so blotchy-red that it made you unsure if it was the heat or the heat.

you swallow, "did you miss me that much, then?"

his hips canted into yours, hard, nodding as wildly as he could without breaking eye contact.

“mhmm! mmhm!.. god, i missed you so fucking much."

“thought about you- hha,” his words are garbled, mixing with the moans spilling from his mouth, “thought about thisss--- fuckfuckfuck--- 'ssso much!”  

jed kisses you, "i missed this,"

another kiss, "missed you,"

kiss, "so so much,"

another, "lots and lots and---"

a lick "you- don't leave me like that again, stay with me, mine, all mine." he babbles.

you kiss back, "i'll stay with you forever."

he freezes, his chin falls to his chest, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open as he heaves through his orgasm. he comes, still rubbing himself desperately and by timing or design--- so does you. fuzzy darkness and sharp, throbbing pain greets you. fuck, did the almost-30 minutes already pass?

jed's hand reaches to slot your open mouth right against his. sharp teeth meets yours once again, but this time it digs harshly on your tongue and you both taste blood.

his entire body shudders violently, almost as if he’s experiencing a second orgasm his cock trembles, another weak rope of cum spilling, grinding until you see that it visibly seems to hurt and he stops.

sweat-damp forehead and hair lean sticks to your shoulder while he tries to catch his breath, definitely bending the wire frame of his glasses.

you don't know if the sleepiness is the post-orgasmic one or the danger-heat-passing-out one. you try to squirm yourself awake, jed hisses-moans and shifts back at you.

you whimper and pass out.

you awake to refreshing cold air and ice on your forehead. you wince, nerves kicking in your legs as you feel a damp rag between them--- it felt more sore-sensitive than usual and you felt more exhausted than usual.

you meet his eyes, you smiled, "hi."

"hey."

"sorry if it hurts," he bit his lip, "there's a lot more than i expected, it'll take a bit to clean up."

jed runs his fingers through his hair, nervously fixes the askew glasses and kisses you gently.

your tongue hurts.

the hum of the air-conditioner of his car lulls you back to sleep.

[gloomyteddybear]

bwuhhh more of him ....

[gloomyteddybear]

Weak attempt are drawing a more Cannon looking Danny like his drivers license in game. I have notes for myself to improve upon 😌

[gloomyteddybear]

A singular void Danny while I work on my super secret nsfw thing

[gloomyteddybear]

I'll be seeing you in all the old, familiar places.

[gloomyteddybear]

danny johnson the man you are....

[gloomyteddybear]

new white boy of the month i fear

[gloomyteddybear]

you're so real. bro is like an onion he got layers.

like yeah ghostface is a literal mask but metaphorically you'd assume he'd be like a batman thing where bruce wayne is the mask---but no, it's also another mask.

jed is a mask in the way ye amateur psycholgy enthusiast calls a persona (and neurodivergent ppl too, if u think abt it). but idk if jed is the mask above ghostie's or the one below it since it's the first face you see behind it. but mby he's one in the same way an alibi is one.

but danny is also a mask, forcing cold and calculating but inside he is hella bitter, cynical and has the temper of a toddler.

but underneath the underneath he is obv insecure and puffing out to make himself bigger... like those small and fragile old-lady pocket dogs who act like satan himself.

then the core... probably whoever he was before johnson sr. got discharged

Put on my Danny playlist and like… have some incoherent post-work babbling,

I just think it’s really interesting to think about the idea of masks and how you can play that in relation to Danny. What IS the true face underneath?

Jed Olsen is a mask, definitely.

You could argue that Danny Johnson is also a mask, just as much as you can argue that Ghostface is the mask for Danny himself.

There’s a lot of room to play which is so exciting to think about.

[gloomyteddybear]

[gloomyteddybear]

You ever just stare at your crush like

[gloomyteddybear]

“Look at that… you can be trained,” Ghostface cooed, the shiv vanishing just as fast as it appeared. “Like a circus flea. You know, I was once given a box of ‘trainable circus fleas’ as a child. They infested my dad’s house and he beat me black and blue. Never could look at a bug the same way after that…”

The two of them stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before he sighed, “I’m trying to insinuate I hate bugs, you fucking insect. Christ alive… Do the world a favor and drown yourself in whatever slop they’re cooking us for lunch, will you?”

“Bugs are delightful, you’re just mean,” David mumbled. @sourgummibears

[gloomyteddybear]

This definitely isn't what I normally post but I was watching some Dead by Daylight gameplay and wanted to draw a quick drawing of my version of Ghost Face without his mask >:)

Photo is enhanced a lot because my camera sucksssss

(Text: "Don't worry, locking windows won't keep me out. :D")

[gloomyteddybear]

his father-problems wouldn't let him finish whiplash.

i feel like he'd hate black swan tho. 'cause it was heavily inspired by perfect blue. he's a gatekeeper like that.

he'd be watching the most cerebral, rabbit-hole research heavy, psych-horror movie (think ari aster, david lynch (fly high, king) or robert eggers) or have a growing collection of a banned-in-9-different-countries, 3 lawsuits, 4 people dying during production, unfinished due to budget, definitely haunted, exploitation thriller. no in between.

RIP Danny "Jed Olsen" "Ghostface" Johnson he ain't dead but he would have loved Perfect Blue (1997) directed by Satoshi Kon