Digital Artist | Character Designer | lvl. 27 | ♌️ | 🇨🇴🇨🇺 | AuDHD Portfolio Link: https://sketchpooch.carrd.co Sometimes a LITTLE bit 🔞 NSFW 🔞 so please if you’re a minor- don’t interact as much and be aware Commissions with Mutuals Only ATM
I’ve been drawing and making character designs for a long while, I’m very slow at drawing and I burnout easy, but I’m going to do better and continue updating my style, all of my social media, and portfolio!
Fun Fact: I was hyper fixated on Dragon Ball for a long while but right now I’m currently obsessed with DC Comics- specifically Batman and the Rogues Gallery!
So your gonna see a lot of art on that along with a lot of OC art 😅
Okay~! For Dadcrow, at what age did he let Autumn watch a scary movie or read a scary book? And what were her first ones?
Okay so remember that experiment some psychologist dude did on his baby to fear cute fuzzy things and it had long lasting damaging effects.
So I would imagine the opposite happened to Miss Autumn. Jon introduced her to horror media as soon as she could crawl, which subsequently made her think scary looking things were cute 🥰
First movie would probably be The Shining. She thought it was boring and fell asleep.
First scary book would be scary stories to read in the dark for bedtime. She would sleep to Jon’s ever so calming voice<3
Synopsis: Jonathan Crane feels really burnt out after yet another miserable work week at Arkham Asylum, dealing with adult children (aka the Rogues). Jon decides to decompress with some fancy liquor he got from Edward Nygma, except he doesn't want to drink it alone. So, he had the impulsive idea to call Edward's lovely assistant, Ms. Delphi (or Ariadne "Ari"), and invite her over to indulge in some of the liquor with him! And things... Get physical after a drunken heart-to-heart... 👀
Word Count: 4k
Content Warning: NS4W, P0rn with Plot(?), Slight Banter, Drinking, Drunk S3x, Oral Fem Receiving, Fingering, Rough S3x, Dirty Talk, PiV
// This little dirty fic is part of a mini-series between my OC and Jon...! I'll post more down the line whenever I can! I just hope you guys love my first attempt at smut with a lot of literary and dialogue help from my wonderfully talented bestie!
It was only meant to be one or two drinks, not whatever this led up to.
Before all that, maybe it’s best to take a few steps back and retrace everything back to last night, specifically this previous evening, around six-ish or so.
It was a long day for Dr. Jonathan Crane at Arkham Asylum. After dealing with so many Rogues who kept talking and talking through their therapy sessions and whatever other services he could provide, it was finally the end of the workday. He could hear that Thirteenth Colony Bourbon calling his name, practically his ambrosia in a bottle.
After such a long day or even a more agonizing week, one would think that the only company one would seek above all else would be his own. In most cases, that statement would ring true. But dammit, he’d be lying if he didn’t want to be selfish, or at least more than usual, about some things- why do others get to scream and complain about what a horrible week or day or whatever they’re having, but he can’t?
Why do they get to vent about their shitty encounters and occasional throwbacks to their childhoods or whatever traumatized them, and he needs to be the one to listen while he’s just brushed off like a Sunday afternoon? Well, aside from the fact that he preferred to bottle it up, that wasn’t the point!
By the time he reached his home, Jonathan was about to insert his keys when he paused and had a brief debriefing in his head. Taking a second to unlock the door and enter, he dropped his bag on the floor with a heavy sigh.
After locking the door and greeting his sweet crow, Jonathan pulled his phone from his pocket and decided to make a call. While waiting, the rings droned in his ear as he settled his keys and bag properly somewhere.
“Pick up, dammit…!” he muttered, the longer the rings went on. Just as he thought the call wouldn’t go through, it finally did.
“Now-now–! Before you hang up, I have an offer for you! Bourbon’s my callin’, but I got plenty of other stuff. I sure as Hell need it, but I feel you could use a lil’ somethin’ too, and we both know— as fancy and considerate as Edward is, he probably ain’t got that kinda kick in his liquor cabinet. One drink after work hurt no one!” There was a short pause.
“How’s ‘bout you try to find out my ‘actual deal’ or reasonin’ is when you get here, huh?” Another pause. A longer one.
“Wine? Shit, I can check. Edward might’ve given me a bottle at some celebratory occasion; I think it’s called ‘Pinot Noir’ or somethin’. Bourbon n’ Gin may be my go-to, but sometimes a bit of wine is all right. I’ll see you in a bit, then, maybe? Ya won’t regret it!” In the end, Jonathan mused, his tone teasing, a diabolical half-grin gracing his sunken face.
After a few more mutterings of confirmation and hanging up, he properly put his stuff away and slipped off his lab coat. Jonathan had lost track of time to the point that he almost didn’t even hear the car pull up to his driveway. How long had it been, really? Was it ten minutes? Maybe twenty?
By that point, he had long since brought out his bourbon and the glass of Pinot Noir he had spoken about over the phone. One wine glass and one half-full rock glass were on the living room coffee table; he didn’t bother cleaning up or sweeping the rest. It's not like there was much energy to do anything nowadays.
The doorbell had been busted for a long time, so it was best just to knock unless you were Edward and either wanted to politely call to let him know when he was here or use a skeleton key or other means of breaking and entering.
Deciding to play the role of a gracious host, Jonathan Crane walked to the door just as the first few raps were emitted from outside.
Once he unlocked the door and opened it, Ms. Delphi lay in all her glory. Judging by the time, she had just gotten off her shift and was clad in uniform, without her purple domino mask, which Ed now made her wear. It made her drooping eyes stand out much more this way; he always found the look classic and endearing. It could also be sadism, enjoying the constant “sadness” the shape held, like someone forever crying or upset.
Whatever it was, they were endearing. All the same, she wordlessly stepped in with a glance over, nose wrinkling at the mess and smells—mothballs, dust, old laundry, and who knows what else.
“I appreciate the invitation, Corvidae, but with the given pigsty that is your apartment, I’m unsure if I should be nauseated or somewhat offended instead.”
“And a hello to you too, Ari.”
Jonathan uttered just as dryly, yet with a hint of bemused sarcasm woven into his tone.
Stepping aside so she could look around, the gangly man soon closed the door and grabbed the wine bottle. He pulled the cork off with his teeth before pouring her a glass and handing it over. Watching her silently nod in thanks before taking a small sip, he did the same. He put the bottle down and poured himself just a little more bourbon before holding his glass up for a toast and swigging it like water.
“It astounds me that a man of your caliber lives like this.”
“What, in filth and trash?”
“Not in a barn. But then again, that would insult pigs since, contrary to popular belief, pigs are clean creatures. And I do not wish to do a disservice to them if I were to imply you both deserve to live in the same enclosure.” Ariadne responded casually, not skipping a beat with her clapback.
The drinks stood more than just helping their physical selves relax- their lips would also loosen up. Or so the case went for Jonathan at the very least; sure, their usual banter went about as it always did, but even the banter would gradually become silence on Ariadne’s end as she listened to the other start to get into his own emotions while quietly nodding here and there to show she heard.
“—And is jus’- HICCUP -like…! Why am I always the one tryna sacrifice my own bullshit so others feel better ‘bout themselves!? I got feelings n’ shit too, ya know!?”
“Mmm…”
Jonathan looked as if he wanted to say something else, but stopped when he felt his overworked and exhausted brain slowly dial up like a Windows Home Screen. He wasn’t sure why, but something about this interaction felt nice; it even felt validated. Not only did it feel as if he knew she was listening to him, but she didn’t mind his ramblings. Well, either that or the alcohol was starting to make him kind of soft again. No, not soft- that wasn’t the right word.
Vulnerable maybe...?
Yeah sure, that sounds about right. The thought made him sick, but he was reaching a point with the alcohol that everything was unraveling on its own, almost naturally. Though he wasn’t sure if he had one drink or five at this point, Jonathan knew something else- he was starting to realize Ari might actually be someone who would allow him to turn his brain off, or as much as he could, and just co-exist for even a little bit. It seems she enjoyed her fair share of silence, too.
Good.
“Ari…”
“Yes, Corvid…?”
“Don’t call me that right now...” He whispered as he leaned in towards Ari’s ear.
She didn’t move; she didn’t blink; all she did was listen to his deep-southern drawl murmuring against her temple. Jon was practically nibbling on her earlobe.
“Please… Call me Jon… Fuck, please, Ariadne…” He pleaded with pure desperation as he gently held both of her shoulders, applying just a bit of pressure. This, of course, threw Ari off a bit, but in a way that made her feel rather randy…
“Okay… Jonathan…”
Time was a blur- the rest of the night was too, the more Jonathan thought about it. He wasn’t drunk, which he was very much aware of. But he certainly teetered on the fine line between tipsy and drunk, admittedly to the point where he wasn’t sure he said or did much else, though there were some things he knew he was in sync with. One such example was tasting the wine on Ari’s lips and how her thick, dark locs got just a little tangled in his bony fingers.
His back had definitely hit the wall at one point, or was he slamming Ari’s back there instead? Whatever it was, his malnourished self was ravenous for only her lips and the growing need to watch those eyes of hers cry in pain from the very weapon he held in his trousers. He was almost sure that he drew blood from her bottom lip without much effort. He may have been biting, but again, he couldn’t tell.
Ari, on the other hand, grabbed and latched her talons on his back as she held on for dear life, grinding against the torpedo-sized tent in his pants.
Jonathan’s ego was rising as he became fully aware of a secret, locked-away part of Ariadne, which was equally carnal at this moment. If she didn’t want any of this, she’d have kicked him off, or at least pushed him off, and crashed on the couch to recuperate until she was well enough to drive herself back to her apartment.
Whatever happened against the wall was soon led down the hallway and eventually to his bedroom. No matter how much time passed, Jonathan felt it was only seconds. In his borderline drunken stupor, he flopped Ariadne onto his bed, ending up right on top of her. He didn’t want to undress fully, finding even the thought egregiously bothersome.
He wondered if perhaps she felt the same, only deciding to go halfway as they fumbled with each other’s trousers. His belt was thrown to the side, her own practically yanked down, even if he nearly fell on top of her torso trying to. Uttering half-mumbled nonsense of carnal desire, Jonathan went right to work. He attempted to steady himself the best he could do with the abilities given to him, hoping he didn’t look like a damn idiot.
Then again, the possibility was high after the liquor went to his brain and bloodstream.
Jon, in a random, gentlemanly fashion, grabs one of his pillows and places it under Ari’s back for comfort and support, making her blush a deep burgundy. But obviously, this is no time to be all Mr. Prince Charming for Crane.
Jon always thought the idea of foreplay was too tedious to initiate, let alone participate, as he’s an impatient man who would rather just get to business. Give the other the good ole’ wham bam thank you ma’am!
However, something about this situation makes him feel as sensual as he is feral.
The scrawny hornball would have her pinned down on the bed, letting the moonlight streaming through the windows fall upon her face as the glow brings out her gray eyes.
She is hauntingly gorgeous like a spirit coming to comfort you on a lonely Sunday night.
“Shit…” Jon cursed under his breath.
“What…?” Ari asked anxiously.
“Don’t mean to sound all sappy n’ shit but… You are as gorgeous as a supermoon on a cold winter’s night…” And he meant every word of that; all Ari could do was blush deeper and give him a soft smile.
Long, creeping fingers trail down from Ari’s face to her chest, and good lord, does she have huge, soft jugs! All he did for what felt like thirty minutes was massage her clothed breasts roughly, pinching and twisting her inverted nipples with his middle and index fingers through the fabric with all his might, making Ari gasp softly and her sensitive cunt wetter.
Her little gasps alone made Jon gather some kind of unhinged, horny strength, and he ripped and tore off her midnight violet, cropped, sleeveless turtleneck, even managing to tear apart her black bralette somehow. It was so abrupt and rabid, poor Ari couldn’t help but feel petrified at the idea that her flesh could’ve been ripped up, too.
She grunted and barked at him,
“JESUS CHRIST, CRANE! Was that fucking necessary–!?”
Jon shushed her by crashing his lips to hers as his way of saying, ‘Oh, shut up and enjoy this!’ Not that she really minded…
With her tits finally splayed out with the same moonlight shining down on them like an ethereal spotlight, Jon could finally enjoy the sight he’s been so gunho on since the first day they met. And that was almost two years ago.
Now his fantasy comes to life before him: those voluminous teardrop breasts, puffy inverted nipples, and deeply tan areolas, as if his monstrous cock couldn’t weep any more than it has ever.
Without hesitation, the ever-so-horny doctor latches his claws upon them both with a massive shit-eating grin,
Poor Ari gasps, and before she can tell him to be more gentle, Jon interjects with venom in his drawl,
“Do you have any goddamn idea how long I’ve wanted this? Huh? Long enough. Now shut up, and let me enjoy this, princess…”
Diving right into it, Jon lowers his head and devours one nipple at a time, savoring the soothing song of Ariadne’s breath and whimpers,
“Haah..! J-Jonathan..! Ahh… Fuck..!”
Gods, the way she cries out his name was sweet and heavenly. She sounds more delectable when he nibbles on one flesh bud and pinches the other.
Ari gasps, almost yelping.
“Crane...!”
Jonathan growled as he kept nibbling on her teardrop tits,
“You love this, don't ya, my little owlet? Love letting the man you fuckin’ detest chomp on your fat tits like this...?”
Ari gasps and hyperventilates a little, and her thighs quiver and practically feel her pussy vibrate on its own.
“Yes…” she whispers.
“Didn’t quite catch that, darlin’. Come on now, let me hear your lil’ hoots,” he purrs and bites down, driving her to yelp again,
“Y-YES! Yes, I do!” she sobbed.
Satisfied with that response, he smirks devilishly, his ghostly eyes glowing within the darkness like some kind of cryptid out for blood.
Crane gradually lowered his head, trying to use his teeth to remove her black leggings and her midnight blue satin panties, taking big whiffs of her scent, feeling the wetness from her cunt on the tip of his pointed nose.
Now he gets to enjoy his main course…
Ariadne’s pussy, all spread out and glistening just for him, and damn if it isn’t beautiful.
Outer labia folded outward like a tiger lily, bush nice and trimmed, and a shy little clit hiding in its hood. All for a dirty older man to feast on like it’s a Roman supper.
“Well… Heheh… The spirits blessed me real good tonight, huh, owlet…?” the not-so-good doctor teased with that same evil smirk, all while trying not to slur his words from the slight inebriation from the wine and bourbon. Thankfully, he didn’t drink so much that he ended up with whiskey dick; it looks like the spirits really did bless him.
Not wanting to blue ball the lady, with his gawking, the leering straw man takes one more strong whiff of her mound before licking down and up her pussy in one swoop to then kiss and suckle on her clit, nice and slow.
“Ahh-haah..!!”
Ari cried out and mewled, craning her head back in ecstasy, a clear sign for him to go on to feasting on her fruit as she reached for the back of his head with her shaky hands and pushed him in further, slurring out,
“Ahhh… Ohh shit… Dr. Crane… You… Oooh…”
While flicking his sharp tongue on her little bulb, Jon takes a slight minute to realize something about her: she’s more sensitive and easily aroused than any person he’s been with, and looks almost terrified even to let him do this, maybe. Just maybe. Ms. Delphi is...
Inexperienced...
A little virgin with a higher-than-thou attitude to compensate…
And here she is, melting, moist, and unraveled on Crane’s tongue alone.
How cute~
Crane eats her out as if he were starving, with each flick of his tongue on her delicious mound. Ariadne felt aroused enough to relax her hole, which allowed him to stealthily insert his middle finger deep inside and slowly twirl before pumping in and out.
Ari’s eyes widened, and her body jolted a bit the second she felt Jon’s finger inside her and hissed,
“Oh shit–!! F-fuck! Y-yes..!”
“Oh? Is my sweet lil’ virgin loving my long digit in her cooze? Want me to put one or two more, owlet?”
Sweet Delphi moaned blissfully, huffing,
“Please…”
“Please, what darlin’..?”
“Please… Fuck me with your fingers, Dr. Crane!”
“With pleasure, Ariadne…”
With that confirmation, Jonathan plunges both middle and index fingers inside her cunt roughly and begins to pummel her warm, velvety walls, pumping in and out with a passionate intensity.
All Ari could do was gasp, scream, and roll her eyes back from how good this felt; she’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or the atmosphere, but with this being her first sexual experience of her life, she kinda regrets not letting Dr. Crane crack her sooner, if it wasn’t for their heated tension and pride.
“What a damn sight, owlet; here you are screaming for my fingers, you hungry whore. You just keep fuckin’ squealing for your doctor… I can only imagine what my cock will do to you…”
Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks, both fingers still inside her. He sat up a little and looked down at the desperate, inexperienced slut with a sadistic gleam in his eyes.
Ari hyperventilates once more, confused and annoyed at the sudden end of the awesome finger blasting, and growls at him,
“Corvid. Why the fuck did you stop? I didn’t say you–”
Jon swiftly removed his fingers and shoved them in her mouth, making her taste her sweet juices. She willfully licked and sucks on both digits as if they were hard candies.
“Who said you’re in fuckin’ charge here, lil’ lady? Last time I checked, we ain’t in your house or on your bed. We’re on mine. Got it? You ain’t goin’ come like a damn fountain unless it’s on my dick. Understood?”
Ari’s nose twitches as she scowls at him, even though both his fingers are still in her mouth. This irritates him enough to pull them out just to grab her neck and lightly choke her, making the stubborn girl look him in his cold eyes.
“Understood, Ms. Delphi?”
She tried to gulp, but the grip was a little tight; yet she somehow felt even wetter from the choking, and all she could do was nod.
“Now that’s a good girl…” He cooed to her.
He let go of her neck and used his now trembling hands to lower his boxers. Delphi looked ahead, and her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, like a pug on a tight leash, in pure horror when Jonathan’s horse of a member showed itself to her.
“What. Is. THAT!? That’s NOT a phallus. That’s a curse brought by fucking Priapus himself!”
Ariadne slurred all of that out somewhat, only incurring a drunken laugh of euphoria from the man as his voice lowered with a cocky grin, saying,
“I know. Impressed? Or frightened?”
“You know, and you plan to use that? You had BETTER have some lubricant or know how to aim your spit! I swear to Ares if you don’t go in slow, I will donkey kick the fuck out of you!” She hissed, wishing her eyes could focus just a little more.
Jonathan slammed both of his hands between Ari’s frame, almost trapping her in place on the lumpy mattress. He leered down, his eyes nearly piercing hers like daggers.
“I want to see you writhe, just as much as I want those pretty grays to weep while you scream my name. I want to make you wither inside and out. So suck it up, Buttercup. ‘Cuz I’m gonna ROCK your shit and love every damn moment of it.” Jonathan nearly snarls while looking down at her with a menacingly lustful gaze. Ariadne, for once, looked a little terrified. This only made Jon more feral.
Now that that’s been said, he yanks both her legs and hikes them up over his shoulders. He slaps his nearly foot-long rod against her flapping lips, rubbing his angry head around her entrance, feeling her nectar pour down on his terrifying cock, practically teasing her impending doom via penis.
Though he isn’t that cruel, since he understood this was literally her first time with anyone, let alone him. He did heed her words to go slow, but not gently.
Needless to say, he was right. Her screams? Bliss. Pure fucking bliss.
But he didn’t insert right away, oh no. After all, he had to prepare her; he had to ensure she was wet since that would be his only needed lubricant. There was a reason Harley kept coming back to him, and a few other pretty numbers whose faces he enjoyed watching twist and contort in sheer agony from being unable to take him.
Or if they did, they would’ve spewed promises about never coming back, which was more than enough for him. Their screams were enough. It fueled his sadistic pleasure and his ego alike.
Ariadne groans in pain when he bottoms out; somehow, all those twelve inches fit inside her tight cunt quite snug. He pulls out agonizingly slow before slamming right back in, making the poor virgin scream, digging her short but sharp plum nails into both his arms like handlebars.
Her pussy felt like absolute heaven, a tepid, moistened, velvet— no, satin-filled heaven; all Crane would do was keep slamming over and over, hearing her tears of pain and pleasure and the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room.
He would look down on her once more, her face contorted and eyes shut as drool and tears poured out, her thighs and small pudge rippling, and her tits bouncing beautifully. What a show.
Her fluids were like honey and ambrosia, something he enjoyed licking off his fingers, but what she said next, as the moonlight hit her grey eyes just right from his dusty window, did something else altogether:
“Gods… I fucking HATE you, Jonathan Crane…!”
“Ditto…”
Jonathan’s pace grew faster, but a little out of rhythm, no thanks to the bourbon; he still concentrated as best as he could on his prey, Ari’s pussy squeezing around his cock like a vise. She was close; they both were. But only one of them can cum first, and it’s gonna be Jon, just out of pure unadulterated pride and spite.
“You cummin’, huh? You cute slut… You think you goin’ cum before me, you spiteful little bitch..? Nah. I don’t fuckin’ think so. But I’ll be gracious…”
He grabs her wrist and pulls it down where her clit is, and that gives her enough indication to start rubbing herself down when he continues pummeling her cervix even harder, not faster, harder.
Ari squeaks, feeling his tip hit deeper; Jon mumbles to her breathlessly,
“You feel that..? You feel me hittin’ that spot..? I want you to remember it in the mornin’, in the afternoon, and at night… Fuck, I want you to remember it for weeks after I’m done with you…”
The thrusting kept going while Ari kept rubbing and moaning.
Even if he still didn’t know what the Hell she feared most in this world, Jonathan knew her screams and cries were a must. He just heard her hoots of pleasure as he finally engaged in the grand finale. He grunts out loud when he finally comes deep inside her, filling her with his bitter fluids. She comes not too long after, letting out a breathy moan as she feels his cum pouring down to her ass.
With a rough grumble, he slowly pulls out his perfect dick from her, and all she can do is watch and go limp into deep sleep. So does he soon and passes out face down on his pillow next to her, with an arm resting on her stomach.
The post-coital smell filling his bedroom was heavenly in itself. Anything after that, though, he couldn’t remember.
By the time the sun’s rays peeked, Jonathan woke up alone, groaning as a headache hit with full force. His head was feeling so hazy that the man hadn’t bothered to see that not only had Delphi left the scene completely, but that his apartment was cleaner and more organized than it had been before.
“What time is it..? Ah, who fuckin’ cares? It’s Saturday…”, he grumbled to himself, walking to the kitchen.
He then saw a note on his kitchen table that made him smirk as it read:
‘I did you a little favor. You’re welcome.
Plus, your apartment was a dumpster fire.
Though I won’t lie, I did enjoy our night together.
artist friends please accept this link to my scans of morpho: fat and skin folds by michel lauricella- also if you find it as helpful as I do please consider buying a copy for yourself!
I’ve had this headcanon at the back of my mind that started as a joke but now it’s not a joke anymore!
And yeah I’m talking about actual goats living at Arkham Asylum, hear me out one second!!
⬇️ ⬇️ FULL EXPLANATION DOWN HERE ⬇️⬇️
Obviously the greenery around Arkham and outside of Ivy’s greenhouse often gets unattended to and Ivy either makes it worse or doesn’t do much about it.
Hiring landscapers is a lawsuit waiting to happen knowing how murder happy certain patients are the second they get to walk around the outside of the asylum.
So what else can they do about the grass and weeds?
Well, Dr. Jonathan Crane suggested: GOATS 🐐
— “Uhh.. Why goats?”
— “Well, goats are cheap, goats eat grass, goats got horns and enough audacity to knock a patient out for getting near, so I say go with goats.”
And so they do. Six goats in total, and one sheep he got for free.
Of course they’re all black billy goats because they gotta remind you to live deliciously, and OF COURSE Jon names them all after gothic/horror icons:
David (after David Lynch)
Victor (after Victor Frankenstein)
Phillip (after Black Philip obviously)
Herbert (after Herbert West)
Wes (after Wes Craven)
Romero (after George A. Romero)
And then there’s the one black sheep... But not just any sheep… One Jacob’s Sheep:
MARY (after Mary Shelly)
⚡️ DUN-DUN-DUNNNN!!! ⚡️
The biggest and most aggressive of the herd, and matriarch of the goats.
She’s Jon’s favorite of course~
And like Jon said, they were pretty cheap and they got to munching on the tall grass and weeds faster than he anticipated.
As well as head butting the HELL out of the patients who got too close for comfort.
Their main targets: Joker, Jervis, and Edward
Mary hates Jervis the most for some reason…
They respect Jon, and only tolerate Ivy, Harley, and Waylon.
The only person the goats and even Mary would be a little afraid of is Batman funny enough.
But yeah I had this idea for a while now and I love it to a stupid degree 😭
It’s been a while since I’ve drawn my girlie Ari 😭
I’m honestly happy that I changed from this character being a Miss Tuesday interpretation to her own character because NOW I can actually make an accurate Miss Tuesday who I made to be Riddler’s niece and looks up to Ari like a cool art teacher 🤣
