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#though irl has irl consequences

booperbeanv3 · 4 months

Note

You ever drawn an egg crack for June?

i have not! soz for letting this rot in my inbox, i was rlly considering drawing smthin for it but i'm better expressing it in words

being that i think it would be a long, arduous process and she'd only clock it once something insanely dumb happens

basically exactly how i went abt it. bro if you ask my friends, there were so many signs. it was so obvious that telling them was like telling them the sky was blue. unless they were completely oblivious to transgenderism as a concept beforehand

as far as Fitting Things Into A Timeline goes, i've discussed propping her up on the ship. 3 years of dogtier sisters, crowboy sprites and then some kinda picks at your base normal enough that you might start clinging onto what rules you have left. but your world is so small that little suggestions don't really matter that much. everyone's dead. grow out your hair. who cares

then once she actually has to meet ppl. she panics. stops panicking. gaslights everyone. proceeds as normal. but the panic still stays. cuz yknow, you gotta make a choice eventually. what do you want from yourself?

so the retcon brings Options, and like, shes got a mostly scrubbed slate to toss at people but theres still that whole. my friends arent the ones i remember. thing.

another option is earth c. just any time there. man she could even figure it out mid session and everyones like "cool okay" but i like. long. complicated. drawn out coming out timelines with so much denial it's like that river in egypt.

#bean answers #homestuck #june egbert #SORRY FOR RAMBLING SO MUCH I JUST HAVE thoughts #also it is insanely hilarious to me whenever fictional characters are in glass closets #though i will say #it's infinitely more difficult irl #though irl has irl consequences #like society #society is dead!#what are you waiting for!#i suppose betraying a dad's wishes #but im sure her dad wouldve supported her no matter what

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 4 months

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It's so funny seeing people who are like "Val is irredeemable villain but Vox could be redeemed" like... Vox embodies all evil of capitalist greed. He not only enables all things that Valentino does. He's probably also a libertarian fuckboy who profits of slavery, abuses his employees and is responsible for hundreds of lives ruined or ended. His favourite things are brainwashing and unpaid child labour. And don't get me started about the environmental damage his tech corporation caused and consequences of medial propaganda.

Just like, you know, real life billionaires who historically proven to be more of a menace to the society than singular abusive freaks*. And irl we even have all those laws and regulations that sometimes even work (to some extend). Imagine how those guys that occasionally finance literal genocides on Earth would act in Hell.

*Though I think that Vox is an abusive sexual freak as well but I have no other evidence than the fact that he has cameras everywhere and is in love with Valentino so there must be something wrong with him.

#hazbin hotel #vox #voxval #character analysis #this post was brought to you by the person with Vox on their pfp #i just want you to know that i condemn everything he stands for #i just think that he's so much fun

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in-a-nook-with-a-notebook · 10 months

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Use Your Words

Franchise: Marvel (Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x male reader (reader's pronouns are he/him/his)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: smut, sub!Miguel, dom!reader, office sex, door unlocked, loud Miguel, breeding kink, Miguel has a praise kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, anal fingering, reader referred to as sir, Miguel's claws, Miguel's fangs, minor degradation, minor angst (reader's been worried about Miguel), fluffy aftercare

Summary: Miguel had been teasing you all day, the little shit. You knew that he knew damn well what he was doing. And he knew exactly what would happen when you caught him alone that night.

A/N: Requested by an irl of mine @sixatrocities ! This is my first smut that I'm actually posting so bear with me (is it still considered a one shot when it's over 3k words??) also I myself do NOT speak Spanish (English, French and a bit of Italian but not Spanish) so most of what Miguel says is directly from Google Translate and I'm so sorry if I messed up - this was also written as though Miguel’s suit is like a physical one as opposed to what I assume is nanotech somehow in the movie

You’re in a meeting with various other members of the Spider Society. This includes Jessica, Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen, Peter and Mayday. And of course, you, Miguel and Lyla. You lean back in your chair at one end of the long table, farthest from where Miguel is at the other end. He’s mostly stopped his teasing, other than shooting you mischievous looks from across the table when no one’s paying attention.

“Any questions?” Miguel says finally, having finished his explanation about the next mission. You know he can feel your gaze burning into him, but he pointedly ignores it. No one says anything, clearly satisfied with the information given.

“Class dismissed,” you say sarcastically. Everyone begins to leave without a word. You turn your eyes on Miguel’s AI. “Lyla, take the night off,” you say. “I need to… discuss some things with Miguel. One on one.”

As Lyla blips out, Miguel swallows hard, finally looking up at you.

“You guys alright?” Peter asks on his way out.

“We’re fine, Pete,” you say, your gaze trained on Miguel’s. His eyes are dilated so much you can’t discern the black of his pupils from the brown of his irises as he scans your face. “Don’t worry about it. Have a goodnight, man, say hi to MJ for me.”

“…Alright,” he replies, though he sounds slightly unsure. “Say bye, Mayday.”

You turn to look at the young redhead, a sweet smile crossing your face as you wave to her. You nod to Peter as he slips out the door.

And then there were two.

“Y/N-”

“Miguel,” you say, your voice bordering on a warning. You slowly cross the room to where he’s standing at the wall. He begins to back away when you get too close, backing up so far that he ends up pressed between you and the wall. You place your palm flat on his broad chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips.

“What was that?”

“What, er, what was what?” He asks in a tight voice. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“You know exactly what you were doing, O’Hara.”

Miguel’s breath hitches in his throat. “I’m-”

“We’ve talked about this, haven’t we?”

Miguel nods quickly. “Mhm.”

“So you know what comes next, then, hm?”

He nods again. “Mhm.”

“Your office,” you state. “Now.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

————————

You follow close behind Miguel as the two of you walk back to Miguel’s office. You say hello in passing to some of the people you pass, like Ben and Margo, prolonging how long Miguel has to wait for the consequences of his actions.

When you reach the office, Miguel moves to lock the door behind the two of you. You catch his wrist before he can touch the doorknob.

“No,” you say.

“But-”

“Miguel.”

“…Yes, sir.”

You gesture for him to go to his desk and you notice him shift his suit a little. You follow him to the desk. He turns around to say something, but you pin him between you and the desk before he can get a word out, his hands bracing himself on the edge of the surface. The proximity gives you both some friction between your respective suits. Miguel sucks in a breath when you grind against him, chewing on his bottom lip. You can see his sharp fangs outlined against his soft pink lip while he watches you carefully.

“You can’t be a tease in the middle of a meeting, baby,” you say in a low voice.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel says breathlessly.

“No you aren’t,” you murmur. “That was bad, Miguel.”

“I’ll be good,” he says desperately. “Por favor, señor, I’ll be good for you.”

You raise an eyebrow in challenge and feel him practically melt underneath you. “Take the suit off, sweetheart.” You step back to allow him to free himself from the confines of his suit. He’s soon left in his boxers, watching you for his next instructions.

“So handsome…” you whisper. You step towards him again, ghosting your fingers over his warm bare skin. He shivers under your touch. “Just begging to be fucked, aren’t you?” You hook a finger under the waistband of his underwear. A whine escapes his lips before he can stop it. “Use your words, baby boy.”

“Please,” he whimpers.

“Please what, Miguel?”

He squirms a little under your hand. “Please fuck me, I need you inside me…”

You guide him back to the desk, framing his body as he leans against it. You can feel his hard, clothed cock against your covered crotch. He tries to grind against you, desperate for a little more friction, but you gain bruising grip on his hips, holding him in place.

“I didn’t say you could move.”

“Por favor, señor, necesito tu polla dentro de mí,” Miguel begs.

“Patience, darling,” you say. You reach around Miguel’s broad frame and push everything off his desk. He looks like he’s about to object, his mouth opening to say something, but the look you give him tells him to keep it to himself. “We’ll fix it later,” you assure him quickly. His tense body relaxes a little.

In mere moments, you rid yourself of your own suit, reaching for the secret compartment of one of the drawers of Miguel’s desk. The two of you have fucked in his office on more than one occasion, so he keeps some condoms around just in case. As you move to withdraw one, Miguel’s thick fingers curl around your wrist. You look back at him.

“Miguel?” You say in a teasingly questioning tone.

“Just your cock,” he whispers. You drop the condom and close the drawer without looking away from him.

“You want me to breed you,” you say. Miguel chews on his lip nervously but he nods.

“Yes, fuck, please.”

“You love the idea of that, don’t you?” You mutter, leaning close to his face. “The thought of being fucked full of my cum to have my kids? Is that what you want?”

Miguel whimpers as you press yourself against him. “Y-Yes, sir…”

A smirk crosses your face. “Good boy.” Your hand moves upwards to thread your fingers into Miguel’s hair. You tug his head back and a gasp tumbles from his lips. Your lips attack his neck, sucking hickeys from the bottom of his jaw down to his collarbone. As you move further down, your lips attach to one of his nipples. A sharp whine escapes him, his body arching into you. He grips your shoulders.

“Fuck,” he whimpers.

One of your hands, the one that had been hooked under his waistband, slips into his boxers, gently grabbing his hard cock while your mouth stays on his chest.

“Ay, dios mío,” he moans. “Please, sir, fuck me, I need your cock so bad, please…!”

You tug his boxers down around his ankles, letting his dick spring free of its confines. Miguel kicks them away as you shed yours too. You stick three fingers in Miguel’s mouth.

“Suck,” you order. That skillful tongue of his swirls around your digits, watching you in desperation. You stroke your cock a few times while you watch Miguel. “Such a good boy for me, baby. So obedient.” You take your fingers away. “Lay back on the desk,” you tell him.

He shifts to sit on the edge of the desk, wincing at the feeling of the cold surface under his bare ass, then lays down on his back, his legs spreading automatically for you. You run one of your wet fingers around his puckered hole and he shivers. You push one finger into his entrance and Miguel moans loudly at the feeling, gripping the edge of the desk above his head.

“So tight for me, darling, so perfect,” you murmur. You pump your finger in and out of his hole, soon adding the second one. Miguel’s mouth falls open, his moans getting more and more high-pitched with your every move. You curl and scissor your fingers inside him and soon his legs are trembling on either side of you. “Can’t wait to breed this tight hole of yours, fuck…” You add your third finger and Miguel already looks like he could cum.

“You think you’re ready?” You ask him.

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“Use your words, baby boy. Please what?”

Miguel whines as you withdraw your fingers. “Please breed me, I need it!”

You quickly grab a little bottle of lube from the desk drawer, coating your dick in the cold substance. You toss the bottle to the side when you’re finished with it. You place one of Miguel’s legs over your shoulder, lining your shaft up with his entrance.

You push in slowly, watching Miguel for any signs of discomfort. His sharp claws dig into your back. His eyes roll back and his lips part, letting out one of the most beautiful moans you’ve ever heard.

“Good boy, such a good boy, taking me so well,” you say, making sure every inch of you is inside his hole.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so big…”

“You can take it, I know you can,” you say as you bottom out. Miguel whimpers. You stay still for a few moments to let him adjust. When he looks up at you with red-tinted, lust filled eyes, you watch him.

“Move,” he whispers. “Please.”

“As you wish.”

You thrusts start slow, but once you start to see your dick bulging in his stomach, you increase your speed. Miguel’s loud moans fill the air, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin while you fuck into him. You rest your hand over his stomach bulge. “This what you wanted?” You ask. “Wanted me to fuck you like a needy little whore to be bred?” You thrust into him particularly roughly, eliciting another moan from him.

“S-Sí, señor- ah, fuck…!”

“You just wanna be filled up with my cum, don’t you? Wanna have my kids, huh?”

“Please, please, please,” Miguel begs breathlessly.

“This tight little ass of yours is gonna be my personal cum dump,” you state with a sharp snap of your hips. You can tell from the moan he releases and the way he grips your shoulders that you hit his prostate. “That feel good? You like it when I say I’m gonna fill you up?”

He almost looks like he’s in a haze as he reaches towards his cock. You slap his hand away. “No touching,” you growl, hitting his prostate again.

“P-Please, sir, I’m- I’m so close!”

“Oh yeah?” You taunt. “Gonna cum without your dick touched?” You emphasize each word with a sharp thrust.

“Señor, por favor, es demasiado!”

“Take it, you little slut,” you growl, gripping his hips in a way that’ll leave bruises. “Gonna fuck you so full of my cum, baby boy.”

“Please, please, I need to cum…!”

“Cum for me, Miguel,” you order, moving one of your hands to wrap around his cock.

It takes only one stroke from you and he’s screaming your name, cumming all over his chest and your hand. The feeling of his hole clenching around your cock almost sends you over the edge, but not yet. You work him through his orgasm, stroking his shaft as you milk him. Your hand doesn’t cease its movements after he’s finished. He begins to squirm underneath you.

“Señor,” he whines. “Es demasiado, I can’t take anymore!”

“You can and you will,” you state, once again increasing the speed of your thrusts. You can feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten.

“Señ- oh, mi maldito dios!” He exclaims when you swipe your thumb over the sensitive tip of his cock. “Santa mierda!”

“I’m close, baby, you’re doing so well for me,” you say in a low voice, fucking him with everything you’ve got. “You’re gonna take it all and you’re not gonna spill a drop, got that?”

“Sí, sí, sí- oh mierda… jodidamente arruinarme…!”

All you have left in you to say is growling out curses as you get yourself off with Miguel’s hole. Your hand is no longer on his cock, but bending his legs so his knees are up to his chest, giving you an even better angle at his prostate.

“Y/N, sir, please!” Miguel shouts. “Please, cum inside me, please…!”

With your hand on his stomach again, you feel the coil in your stomach snap. Your thrusts falter. “Fuck, Miguel!” You yell, burying your cock to the hilt in his ass, cumming harder than you have in a while. You can feel Miguel squirming underneath you, his hole clenching around you as he cums again suddenly. He’s trembling beneath you. Your balls drain, your cum painting his insides white. You see a bulge in his stomach where your cum is and feel a sense of satisfaction. You stay inside him for a moment, revelling in the feeling of having bred him.

“Good boy,” you say in a low tone. “Gonna keep that all inside, sweet boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Miguel murmurs, looking thoroughly fucked out. His claws retract and his hands drop to his sides. Your shoulders burn where his claws had dug into your skin, but you’ve always loved getting to see the marks he leaves behind.

“Good boy, Miguel, so good for me.”

You lean down and press a deep kiss to his soft lips. Your tongue pokes into his mouth, feeling his fangs. You grin into the kiss. When you pull away, he takes your hand that had been jacking him off and licks off the excess cum that had been left when he had climaxed, and damn if it wasn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen.

“Let’s go home and get you cleaned up, babe,” you say gently.

You carefully help Miguel to his feet, finding his boxers on the floor. You have to help him back into them, considering he can barely move or walk properly. You help him out his suit back on as well. He hisses at the feeling of his oversensitive cock rubbing against the fabric of his underwear. You tug on your boxers and your suit as well. You know you’ll have to wash or replace both of your suits, considering there’s likely cum all over the inside of Miguel’s now, but how else were the two of you supposed to talk back to your apartment? Naked?

As tempting as it is to show everyone that Miguel isn’t so scary under the right circumstances, you wouldn’t do that to him. Plus, you’d like to keep that sight for yourself.

You have to support Miguel as the two of you walk, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Anyone who questions his stiff movements look to you for an answer. “Rough mission,” you reply with a smirk.

————————

Miguel leans against the wall next the door to your shared apartment, waiting for you to dig out your key. You do about 75% of the Macarena to locate it, jamming it in the keyhole and letting the two of you in. You lock the door behind you when you’re both inside.

“How you feeling, hot stuff?” You tease gently, giving Miguel a once-over.

“Sticky,” he admits quietly.

You grimace. “Sorry. Shower?”

“Can’t stand properly,” he says, a tone of humour in his voice even though you can tell he’s still feeling pretty stiff.

“Bath?” You suggest. He nods tiredly.

Miguel uses the wall to hold himself up as the two of you make your way to the bathroom. You walk more quickly so as to get the water running. While the tap is on, the water warming up, you move to help Miguel get rid of his suit again. You set it by the door so you can remember to wash it later. You do the same with your own. As you help Miguel out of his boxers, he sucks in a breath through his teeth; his cock is still sensitive and you’d just accidentally brushed it with your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, cupping his cheek with your hand.

“’S’alright,” he mumbles. He turns his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the heel of your hand. You smile at him, then finish helping him undress. You set his underwear aside with his suit, again doing the same with your own.

You lean forward and softly connect your lips with Miguel’s in a loving kiss.

“I love you,” you murmur.

“I love you too, mi vida.”

“In all seriousness, though, are you alright?”

“Soy perfecto, querido,” he says assuringly. “A little achy, maybe, but I’m alright.”

“If I ever go to far-”

“I’ll tell you. Promise.” He kisses you again.

The two of you slip into the warm water, Miguel resting between your legs and leaning his back against your chest. You press a kiss to the back of his ear and he hums contentedly.

“Comfortable?” You ask. Miguel nods.

You help him clean up the mess you’d both made, happy to feel him relax under your touch. He’s been tense all the time. Any moment of comfort and rest you can bring him, you’ll do it. As much as you love him, he’s been off for a while now, always tense and grumpy. Nothing you couldn’t handle, but it still worried you. He wasn’t always like this.

You had your suspicions as to why - or, rather, who - was making him feel like this, but you knew you shouldn’t mention her. She’d deny it a thousand times over, and you weren’t sure Miguel would believe you either.

“You’re safe, my love,” you say quietly, wrapping your arms around him.

“Thank you.” He pauses for a moment, then he tenses. “Oh, shit, my desk-”

“We’ll go back, it’s okay,” you answer quickly. You reach one hand up and run your fingers through his hair. His posture softens, leaning comfortably against your chest again. “We’ll clean up that mess after we’re done with this one. Okay?”

He nods slowly. “Okay.” His eyes close a little; he’s tired, and you know it. He’s been tired for a long time.

“Tell you what,” you say. “I’d say we’re pretty much cleaned up, so how about we dry off and you curl up in bed, and I’ll go back and fix your desk.”

“But-”

“I know how you organize it,” you reassure him. “And I’ll swing there and back, so I won’t be gone long. Is that okay?” Miguel hesitates. “Baby, you need rest,” you remind him, gently rubbing his arm.

He sighs tiredly but he nods. You kiss the nape of his neck. He leans his head back to rest on your shoulder, looking at you with exhausted brown eyes.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you tease softly. He grins lazily.

“Hi.”

#miguel o'hara #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara smut #x male reader #x male top reader #sub!miguel o’hara #spider man #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099

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gallusrostromegalus · 7 months

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So how much are you willing to talk about Ulquiorra?

I will talk so much about him. There are so many things wrong with that man, but to make a brief list of his most notable features:

He's dumb as hell.

I say that with tremendous sympathetic affection. Ulquiorra barely thinks. It's easy for him to do nothing and go nowhere. He eats chocolate in the middle of the night in the dark. When he gets access to a garden, he often just stands around in it. He's often waiting for things to happen.

He just LOOKS smart compared to nearly everyone else in the fic because he doesn't have much to say, so he's not constantly opening his mouth to jam his foot down it.

Consequently, Ulquiorra starts off having little to no initiative of his own. Stuff just happens to him. Some of that is because he is colossally depressed, but he's depressed because the idea that he has control over his circumstances has straight up not occured to him.

The first person he meets that shows him that "You can just do whatever you want, forever" and the boundless joy it is to be a creature of free will is, unfortunately, Aizen. And Aizen left off the key corollary "-EVERYONE is allowed to do whatever they want, forever. We are all equal in God's dead, empty eye sockets."

So Ulquiorra wanders around trying out this "doing stuff" thing without any concept of ethics.

I realize I am infantilizing this character, but I am doing so in a twilight zone "hey, wouldn't it be fucked up to watch a fully anatomically functional person who is able to speak and blow stuff up with his mind go through the emotional development steps of a toddler?", because I think that's a fun high-concept premise to explore with him. Yeah, what if a toddler could speak articulately and also destroy you? How would he act? How does he feel, learning to have feelings?

It'd probably suck for him and everyone around him, and make him very easy to manipulate, for one thing.

So I don't think Ulquiorra is evil, because evil takes intent. He is dangerous to be in the general proximity of, though

Like a horse

lose

in a hospital!

I love that sketch as much as the next person but if an IRL horse got loose in a hospital it would be bedlam, but the horse would be mostly confused and probably willing to follow around the first person who looked like they knew what they were doing.

You know, like how Ulquiorra follows Aizen around because that's the first guy he's met who THINKS he knows what he's doing, and is good at convincing others he knows what he's doing!

So Ulquiorra's entire first character arc is being exposed to more and more people and realizing he does have control over his life, and that he can take actions, and that those actions have consequences.

Like being emotionally devastated by a teenage girl because he was an asshole to her and she's willing to scream at him about it.

Hm.

Consequences hurt.

He lives through the Las Noches arc, and decides to follow his own star!

He follows it right through a portal that was not meant for him and now he's sort of trapped in somewhere he's really, really, really, really, REALLY not supposed to be.

But it's a beautiful place

And nobody is forcing him to do anything.

And for a long time, he just stands out in the garden, waiting for something.

But then

Ulquiorra experiences a novel pair of emotions that he's recently learned from his new...

Orihime is too mad at him for him to call her a friend.

-but he did learn the names and therefore the experience of two new emotions from her: boredom, and it's natural remedy: curiosity.

So Ulquiorra's second character arc is him learning how to be himself without anyone telling him who he is and what he ought to be.

He's travelling up Maslow's hierarchy with the inscrutable but unstoppable instinctual drive of a salmon returning to its spawning ground.

This has lead to an important discovery on my part: Ulquiorra is terrific for comedy because he is the ULTIMATE straight man to everyone else's nonsense, because he's immune to nearly all nonsense.

He doesn't have societal taboos to be hung up on, nor any sense of what is "normal", so the sole thing he geta hung up on is a lack of internal consistency in others, meaning he can slip between straight man to the absurdist at the drop of a single scathing observation. Yet, he retains a sort of understated dignity that compels people to try to earn his respect.

Hence, I'm having fun turning him loose on the most absurd, internally inconsistent and frankly, insane batch of characters in the series:

The Royal Guard.

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #ulquiorra cifer #Ulquiorra #mild spoilers

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 3 months

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bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

tuesday, zhang hao— string ensemble

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here. ⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.8k ⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used a couple times) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down) ⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated. ⋆˙⟡ tuesday summary: happy tuesday, you know what that means: two straight hours of wind ensemble. and it's made even more enjoyable by first chair, zhang hao, chewing you out for every mistake you make. he's been quiet today though. it's making your skin crawl. can you manage to get out unscathed?

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. dub-con. bullying. stuck up, tattletale hao. this is a doozy. you'll be glad we took it easy monday. smut in gn and fem versions are substantially different due to logistics/circumstance. also i clearly know nothing about playing the violin so just 🤓☝️ pipe down over there, k? ily. actually would love to hear real violinists thoughts on this so hmu. ⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★☆☆ (3.5)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: foreign object and finger insertion (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), dub-con: hao doesn't have consent before sexually touching reader but reader is turned on by it, cum play, bullying.

DO NOT PUT ROSIN UP YOUR HOO HA YA DINGUS!! purely for entertainment purposes, this fic exists in a world where there aren't consequences for that okay? DON'T. I REPEAT DON'T. DO THIS IRL. okay thank you, love you.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

you take a deep breath, bouncing nervously on the balls of your feet at the south campus entrance. you’d barely gotten any sleep last night after your encounter with jiwoong, too busy tossing and turning as you pictured the dirty looks you’d be getting all over campus the next day. but as you walk across the main courtyard to the music building this afternoon, you’re surprised and elated to hear no frantic whispers in response to your presence.

had jiwoong really kept what happened yesterday a secret? you find it hard to believe he’d want to protect your reputation and mental well-being. still, the proof was in the pudding and, so far, the pudding seemed entirely unaware of who you are. just how you like it.

on tuesday afternoons, you had string ensemble in place of advanced drama. although it was a relief to have jiwoong out of sight and out of mind, there was another force at play to deal with.

as you enter the orchestra room, you spot that force immediately— already seated and delicately coating the hairs of his bow with the lifetime supply of premium rosin he’d won for first place violinist at the chinese international music competition three years ago. you know this fact because he never lets you forget it.

with your violin case in your hand, you make your way to your seat: second chair, of course. first chair is eternally occupied by your conductor’s most favorite student.

you sit down in your black music chair, smoothing your skirt so that it doesn’t ride up while you play. opening your violin case, you carefully pull out your instrument and begin quietly tuning it as the rest of the string ensemble files in. you place your bow to the strings, playing a note to assess the sound. the note comes out airy and weak and it makes you inherently wince.

“fucking fix that right now,” a familiar voice to your left suddenly demands. “i won’t ask again.”

your left eyebrow peaks in confusion as you mumble, “you didn’t ask a first time.”

he doesn’t even look at you. and though you already intended to fix the problem without his prompting, you place your violin back in its case and start to fish around in the velvet compartments for some rosin. when you come up empty, you start to panic.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor ahn greets, tapping her conductor’s baton on the frame of her metal music stand. “we have a lot to get to today, so let’s just jump right in.”

shit. you really need rosin.

but there’s no way you can raise your hand and disrupt professor ahn’s flow. she already thinks you’re a second-rate violinist that “hides her lack of talent behind incessant practice”. this was a direct quote you’d received on your evaluation sheet last semester. besides, all professor ahn would probably say was that you should’ve made sure your bow was up to par before you even got to campus.

you couldn’t argue with that. it was the truth. but your little incident with jiwoong had preoccupied you and suddenly every perfectionist task you routinely performed seemed... obsolete. how could you let him get to you like this?

and why did it still feel so good?

professor ahn taps her baton again, signaling for everyone to turn to the first page of your spring concert repertoire. you swallow nervously, opening your sheet music booklet to tippett’s fantasia concertante on a theme of corelli. it’s an extremely difficult piece that an outstanding violinist struggles to play on a good day. and you would be playing it with your bow in a noticeably poor condition.

you stumble through the piece as quietly as possible, cringing when the sound your instrument produces is less than satisfactory. though your ensemble is still learning the song, others’ mistakes aren’t enough to hide the strange performance coming from the second-chair violinist.

“zhang hao-sshi,” professor ahn suddenly calls. the boy to your left looks up at her in attention, causing your heart to sink to your stomach. “who is responsible for that unsatisfactory sound?”

you were foolish to think you could escape what inevitably always happened during string ensemble: the second of your five jerk-off bullies ratting you out in front of the whole orchestra.

there was a reason professor ahn held such distaste for you and your craft and that reason was zhang hao. each and every rehearsal, your professor would ask the first chair to list any mistakes he’d heard from your section and he apparently only ever noticed yours. you’d sit there, cheeks heating up with embarrassment as hao described every error you made in great detail that day— professor ahn taking note and deducting points from your rehearsal grade as she saw fit.

hao had seemingly made it his mission to single handedly make you quit violin in a sea of unbearable shame.

so you’re shocked when all hao replies is, “i apologize, professor ahn. i was too engrossed in playing to notice where the error was coming from.”

what the fuck? why would he lie? it couldn’t be to help you. hao would throw you to the wolves without a second thought if it meant remaining superior to you.

but his gaze returns to his sheet music, pencil floating across the paper as he quietly adds annotations. you’re honestly freaked out. had he hit his head? had the difficulty of the piece actually thrown him that much?

rehearsal ends shortly thereafter and you stay in your chair, silently tending to your violin next to hao. you’re both usually the last to leave, but hao always makes it a point to stay just a few seconds longer than you. just to prove something.

after your instrument is safely back in its case, you stand up and make your way over to the instrument storage closet. you find your cubby, pulling out your key and unlocking your unit so you can leave your violin there for the remainder of your classes this afternoon.

as you place your violin case gently inside and lock your cubby, the unexpected sound of footsteps behind you makes you freeze in place. slowly, you turn around to find hao standing in the doorway of the storage closet.

weird. hao would never undermine his unparalleled musicianship by keeping his violin in a public storage unit. he sets his case down next to him, crossing his arms and leaning on the left side of the door frame.

“i’m waiting,” is all he says, brow raised expectantly.

you look to your left and right, trying to discern what it is hao could be waiting for. you can’t find anything of note. “um... for what?”

“what do you mean, for what?” hao spits, eyes narrowing angrily. “i didn’t tell professor ahn about any of the mistakes you made today. and i don’t know if you noticed, but you made a fuck ton.”

and the shoe drops, you think.

“did you not even notice my act of kindness?” he asks indignantly. “don’t you think i at least deserve a thank you?”

“oh,” you reply, tilting your head in surprise. you swallow the urge to tell him that kindness in demand of a thank you is not exactly kindness and instead, just nod. “yeah. thank you. i guess.”

it must be some weird power play over you. it’s probably best to make a swift exit and not give him the attention he wants, so you turn on your heel and start to walk toward the door to leave. but as you approach the exit, hao reaches across the door frame— your chest colliding directly with his forearm as he blocks you in.

“c-... can i get through? i have to be in calc iii in fifteen minutes,” you ask with a frown.

hao’s arm stays glued to the other side of the door as he continues to stare at you. “i want a better thank you.”

“you—... why?” you question, brow furrowing in confusion. “i already said thank you. and i didn’t even ask you to lie for me in the first place.”

hao blinks at you. “so you’re not grateful?”

“honestly, you’re kind of making me uncomfortable,” you reply, ducking under his arm and walking back out into the orchestra room. “so if my lack of gratitude means you’re going to go back to humiliating me in front of the entire string ensemble every day... i guess i’ll just have to continue living with it.”

you make it halfway out of the rehearsal room when you hear a faint: “wait.”

you turn around to find a slightly panicked hao still standing in the doorframe of the storage closet.

“you need rosin, right? you ran out?” he asks, as if he couldn’t tell exactly what your problem had been from hearing you play today. “i’ll give you some of mine.”

clearly you’ve just hallucinated. you’re so stressed from yesterday’s events that you’ve started hearing things. or maybe you’re still asleep in your bed at home. or maybe you’re dead. because there’s no way hao would ever give you his beloved rosin.

“let me just get it out of my case,” he says, bending down to the ground and opening up his very expensive violin case. you walk over to him slowly, partly because you don’t believe him and partly because you’re starting to worry something is terribly wrong with him.

“hao, are... are you feeling okay?” you ask, stepping back into the storage closet and watching as he pulls out a fresh cake of premium rosin. it’s a box-shape with rounded edges and no plastic holder, the golden-brown hardened sap shining beautifully even in the dim light of the storage closet.

he stands back up, holding the rosin between his fingers delicately. “never better.”

“you’re—... you’re gonna give me your cimc prize rosin?” you ask, incredibly confused. “why would you do that?”

“because you need it. don’t you?” he answers with a shrug.

“but... but—.” you protest, head spinning a million miles a minute trying to make sense of hao’s bizarre and uncharacteristic display of benevolence. “what’s the catch?”

with no discernible inflection, hao repeats, “the catch.”

“i don’t see why you’d give this to me without a price,” you elaborate skeptically. “you don’t like me. you’re actively mean to me actually. it doesn’t make sense that you’d give me something you value without asking for anything in return. i mean, you couldn’t even randomly choose to cover for me during rehearsal without demanding a thank you after.”

hao considers this for a moment and then nods. “well, what if i ask for the same thing then? in exchange for this rosin, i want a thank you.”

“i can’t even begin to figure out what’s gotten into you today,” you respond with a reluctant sigh, “but fine. i guess i can agree to your terms.”

“we have a deal,” hao affirms with a stupid, perfect smirk. he closes the gap between you, holding out the rosin in his palm. when you try to take it from him, he retracts his hand. “i’ll take the thank you first actually.”

“sure,” you agree, rolling your eyes. “thank you.”

he tilts his head to the side, prompting, “what was that?”

“thank you, hao. i really appreciate you giving me your rosin,” you feed flatly, hoping you’ve finally appeased him.

“an improvement,” he says before shaking his head again. “but i’m still not loving the tone coming out of you... i think you could use some rosin.”

“what do you—” you start to ask, but it’s already too late. without any time to spare, the door is shut behind you and a sudden draft hits your heat as your panties are shoved to the side beneath your skirt. the air leaves your lungs as long, thin fingers dip through your folds and squeeze something cold and smooth inside of you.

“there you go,” hao smiles, incredibly satisfied with the stunt he’s just pulled. “i think that might help your tone.”

“y-you... did you...” you stammer as you gawk at the boy in front of you. your cheeks are beet red at the violation of your sex. you’re in such shock that all you can whisper is, “you can’t put that in... there.”

“an instrument should be well cared for,” he challenges, sinking to his knees and running his hands up and down your bare thighs. “gonna make you sound so pretty.”

there’s a flutter in your core that you desperately want to silence. you could not be turned on by this. one of the men you hate most in this world just shoved a foreign object up you without asking. so why is the hungry look in his eyes as he backs you against the wall of storage units exciting you?

hao hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. you step out of them without a word. he lifts your right leg over his shoulder, bringing your cunt closer to his face as he holds your hips steady.

he licks a stripe starting just above your opening to your clit as if he wants to taste every inch of you. the sensation makes you gasp and then immediately cover your mouth in shame. were you really enjoying this?

“hm, still an airy sound,” hao observes, eyes locked on your center as his fingers grip into your hips. “definitely needs more rosin.”

he dives back in, lapping at your cunt— tongue flicking your bundle of nerves as your arousal builds. you must’ve fallen into an alternate dimension. fainted. been in a terrible bus accident on your way to campus. but why you’d dream of hao’s head between your thighs in a storage closet is beyond your comprehension.

the more he works you with his mouth, the more hums and sighs escape your lips but all of your worries aren’t eased just yet.

“it’s... it’s gonna melt,” you say softly, starting to feel a bit dizzy. “the r-ros—.”

“rosin starts to crumble from heat at 50 degrees celsius,” hao interjects in between sloppy traces of his tongue. “the average internal temperature of a vagina is 37.5 degrees.”

“but—”

“don’t act like you don’t know how numbers work. aren’t you in calc iii?” hao ridicules, biting gently at your clit. you throw your head back at the sensation as he increases the pressure of his tongue against you. “are you just a fraud in every subject you take?”

“hao,” you beg, his slander just adding to the pleasure you’re feeling as your right hand tangles up in his hair— tugging from the root. “feels so good. so, so good.”

“fuck, that’s beautiful baby,” hao pants, right hand detaching from your hip. he parts your entrance with his fingers, the cake of rosin slipping out into his palm with a crude, wet smack. you both stare at the golden brown block, still perfectly intact but now dripping in your arousal. he drags it down the inside of your thighs, mesmerized by the trail of glistening honey it leaves on your skin. “mm, coated perfectly now.”

he drops the rosin on the floor next to you, replacing the empty space in your pussy with his ring and middle fingers. you gasp at the stretch, clenching involuntarily around him.

“i think you’re ready to play,” hao decides, curling his fingers up inside of you against your front wall and pressing on your clit with his thumb. he watches you intently, mouth open slightly as he drinks in the sight of you writhing in pleasure. “c’mon, baby. let me hear you.”

you do as he says, moaning as the pads of his fingers press into your sweet spot again. with every rhythmic stroke, your sounds grow less inhibited and hao grows more entranced. he’s making the face he usually makes while playing his violin— focused, impassioned, and devastatingly sexy.

was hao enjoying playing you as much as he enjoyed playing his other instrument?

“gon—... gonna make me cum,” you whine after another minute, the look in hao’s eyes turning feral. he immediately returns his mouth to your cunt, sucking at your sensitive bud with a renewed vigor.

as hao brings you closer to the brink of orgasm, your moans only grow louder and sweeter like a crescendo. the harmonic sounds coming out of you are intensified by an increase in the pace of his finger-fucking. it’s all too much for you to handle, your walls spasming around him uncontrollably.

“oh my god, hao—,” you cry, your climax crashing over you like the perfect wave. “c-cumming... i—...”

you can barely hold yourself up, clinging to the shelves on either side of you as hao works you through your high. your breathing returning to normal, he looks up at you as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy— lips pink and glistening with your juices.

he removes your right leg from around his shoulder, eyes locked with yours as he stands up and brushes the dust off his knees.

“th-thank... you,” is what comes out of you as you stare at him, dumbfounded. “thank you.”

“yeah, sure,” hao replies dismissively. after making such a big deal about a thank you, it figures he’d pretend he never cared in the first place. “clean off that rosin and use it next week or i’ll tell professor ahn you stole it from me.”

“oh. okay,” you quietly agree, unable to control the awkward energy that’s now tying your tongue. “um. thanks... again.”

he just shrugs, walking over to the door and picking up his violin case. unlocking the door and pushing it open, he takes a few steps out the door before suddenly stopping in his tracks. he turns over his shoulder to look at you. “i almost forgot to ask...”

you gulp at the sight of the upturned corner of his lip in a smug grin.

“... was it better than jiwoong hyung?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

gender neutral version below

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: hand/oral (reader receiving), throat fucking with fingers (reader receiving), dubcon: hao does not have consent before inserting fingers into reader's mouth, reader is turned on by this, cum play, bullying.

IF YOU WANT TO COVER YOUR ROSIN IN CUM, YOU CAN I'M NOT THE BOSS OF YOU but from everything i've read in research for this fic, it will ruin it so maybe don't. up to you tho, babe. love you.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

on tuesday afternoons, you had string ensemble in place of advanced drama. although it was a relief to have jiwoong out of sight and out of mind, there was another force at play to deal with.

with your violin case in your hand, you make your way to your seat: second chair, of course. first chair is eternally occupied by your conductor’s most favorite student.

you sit down in your black chair, propping your sheet music booklet up onto your music stand. opening your violin case, you carefully pull out your instrument and begin quietly tuning it as the rest of the string ensemble files in. you place your bow to the strings, playing a note to assess the sound. the note comes out airy and weak and it makes you inherently wince.

“fucking fix that right now,” a familiar voice to your left suddenly demands. “i won’t ask again.”

your left eyebrow peaks in confusion as you mumble, “you didn’t ask a first time.”

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor ahn greets, tapping her conductor’s baton on the frame of her metal music stand. “we have a lot to get to today, so let’s just jump right in.”

shit. you really need rosin.

but there’s no way you can raise your hand and disrupt professor ahn’s flow. she already thinks you’re a second-rate violinist that “hides your lack of talent behind incessant practice”. this was a direct quote you’d received on your evaluation sheet last semester. besides, all professor ahn would probably say was that you should’ve made sure your bow was up to par before you even got to campus.

and why did it still feel so good?

you were foolish to think you could escape what inevitably always happens during string ensemble: the second of your five jerk-off bullies ratting you out in front of the whole orchestra.

hao had seemingly made it his mission to single handedly make you quit violin in a sea of unbearable shame.

so you’re shocked when all hao replies is, “i apologize, professor ahn. i was too engrossed in playing to notice where the error was coming from.”

what the fuck? why would he lie? it couldn’t be to help you. hao would throw you to the wolves without a second thought if it meant remaining superior to you.

“i’m waiting,” is all he says, brow raised expectantly.

you look to your left and right, trying to discern what it is hao could be waiting for. you can’t find anything of note. “um... for what?”

and the shoe drops, you think.

“did you not even notice my act of kindness?” he asks indignantly. “don’t you think i at least deserve a thank you?”

it must be some weird, new power play over you. it’s probably best to make a swift exit and not give him the attention he wants, so you turn on your heel and start to walk toward the door to leave. but as you approach the exit, hao reaches across the door frame— your chest colliding directly with his forearm as he blocks you in.

“c-... can i get through? i have to be in calc iii in fifteen minutes,” you ask with a frown.

hao’s arm stays glued to the other side of the door as he continues to stare at you. “i want a better thank you.”

“you—... why?” you question, brow furrowing in confusion. “i already said thank you. and i didn’t even ask you to lie for me in the first place.”

hao blinks at you. “so you’re not grateful?”

you make it halfway out of the rehearsal room when you hear a faint: “wait.”

you turn around to find a slightly panicked hao still standing in the doorframe of the storage closet.

“you need rosin, right? you ran out?” he asks, as if he couldn’t tell exactly what your problem had been from hearing you play today. “i’ll give you some of mine.”

he stands back up, holding the rosin between his fingers delicately. “never better.”

“you’re—... you’re gonna give me your cimc prize rosin?” you ask, incredibly confused. “why would you do that?”

“because you need it. don’t you?” he answers with a shrug.

“but... but—.” you protest, head spinning a million miles a minute trying to make sense of hao’s bizarre and uncharacteristic display of benevolence. “what’s the catch?”

with no discernible inflection, hao repeats, “the catch.”

hao considers this for a moment and then nods. “well, what if i ask for the same thing then? in exchange for this rosin, i want a thank you.”

“i can’t even begin to figure out what’s gotten into you today,” you respond with a reluctant sigh, “but fine. i guess i can agree to your terms.”

“sure,” you agree with a sigh, rolling your eyes. “thank you.”

he tilts his head to the side, prompting, “what was that?”

“thank you, hao. i really appreciate you giving me your rosin,” you feed flatly, hoping you’ve finally appeased him.

“an improvement,” he says before shaking his head again. “but i’m still not loving the tone coming out of you... maybe your bow needs some rosin.”

“you already know it does! what are you even talking—,” you start to ask, but it’s already too late. without any time to spare, the door is shut behind you and two long, thin fingers are pushed inside of your mouth.

“there you go,” hao smiles, incredibly satisfied with the stunt he’s just pulled. “a thorough coat to get that perfect sound.”

he cups your jaw with his free hand as he shoves his fingers further into your mouth. you gag slightly as he approaches the back of your throat, your cheeks turning beet red at the violation of your body.

“an instrument should be well cared for,” hao says as he removes his fingers from your lips, unbuttoning your jeans as he guides you to sit down in a black music chair. “gonna make you sound so pretty.”

there’s a flutter in your core that you desperately want to silence. you could not be turned on by this. one of the men you hate most in this world just shoved his fingers down your throat without asking. so why is the hungry look in his eyes as he sinks down between your legs exciting you?

hao hooks his fingers around the waistband of your jeans, tugging at them until you finally lift your hips up wordlessly. he discards your underwear next, chuckling sardonically at your continued state of silence.

his lubricated fingers ghost over you, leaving a trail of your own saliva up and down your sex. the sensation makes you gasp and then immediately cover your mouth in shame. were you really enjoying this?

“hm, still an airy sound,” hao observes, eyes locked on your center as his free hand grips your thigh— fingers digging into the soft flesh. “definitely needs more rosin.”

hao pulls your hips closer to him, taking you into his mouth— swirling and sucking at your heat with his tongue. you must’ve fallen into another dimension. fainted. been in a terrible bus accident on your way to campus. but why you’d dream of hao’s head between your thighs in a storage closet is beyond your comprehension.

the more he works you with his mouth, the more hums and sighs escape your lips.

“hao,” you beg, pleasure building as your right hand tangles up in his hair— tugging from the root. “feels so good. so, so good.”

“fuck, that’s beautiful baby,” hao pants, right hand detaching from your hip. “maybe you can even learn something from how i’m playing you. everyone would appreciate that, huh?”

the patronizing insult makes you throb, another whimper falling out of you. he watches you intently, mouth open slightly as he drinks in the sight of you writhing in pleasure. “c’mon, baby. let me hear you.”

with every rhythmic stroke, your sounds grow less inhibited and hao grows more entranced. he’s making the face he usually makes while playing his violin— focused, impassioned, and devastatingly sexy.

was hao enjoying playing you as much as he enjoyed playing his other instrument?

“gon—... gonna make me cum,” you whine after another minute, the look in hao’s eyes turning feral. he immediately returns his mouth to you, sucking at your most sensitive part with a renewed vigor.

as hao brings you closer to the brink of orgasm, your moans only grow louder and sweeter like a crescendo. the harmonic sounds coming out of you are intensified by an increase in the pace of hand. it’s all too much for you to handle, your core beginning to spasm.

“oh my god, hao—,” you cry, your climax crashing over you like the perfect wave. “c-cumming... i—...”

hao pulls out the cake of rosin from his back pocket as he works you through your high, bringing it between your legs and covering it in your release. your breathing slowly returning to normal,he runs the sticky rosin down each of your inner thighs.

“it’s... it’s gonna melt,” you say softly, both hypnotized and concerned. “the r-ros—.”

“rosin starts to crumble from heat at 50 degrees celsius,” hao interjects as he coats the rosin in more of your fluids. “your body temperature is 37 degrees.”

“but—.”

“don’t act like you don’t know how numbers work. aren’t you in calc iii?” hao baits, licking up the last remnants of your orgasm for himself. “are you just a fraud in every subject you take?”

his eyes lock with yours as he stands up and brushes the dust off his knees.

“th-thank... you,” is what comes out of you as you stare up at him, dumbfounded. “thank you.”

“oh. okay,” you quietly agree, unable to control the awkward energy that’s now tying your tongue. “um. thanks... again.”

you gulp at the sight of the upturned corner of his lip in a smug grin.

“... was it better than jiwoong hyung?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

286 notes · View notes

starryinkart · 2 months

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[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY]

[Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!]

Hey guys!!! I said I would work on a Uzi human version to match with my N human version, so here it is!!! I decided to make her a mix of Japanese and Middle Eastern, since Nori means seaweed in Japanese and I’ve have a friend named Khan who was Middle Eastern irl!

Since you guys like the headcannons last time, have some about Uzi:

Uzi was born with blue eyes and black hair, like her parents had, though Khans eyes were a more icy blue. When Khan started to neglect Uzi, she decided to mimick the appearance of her mother instead, seeing her as a role model after everything cool she heard about her around the colony, dying her hair purple like her.

In this AU, Uzi knew her mother before she died for a short time as an infant. Of course, she doesn’t remember much, but she does remember the play dates she used to have with her cousin Doll anytime her aunt Yeva would come over.

Nori and Yeva were sisters, both genetically modified to have the solver inside of them, making Doll and Uzi cousins. Nori and Yeva knew the consequences of having offspring with the solver in their veins but were actively working on a cure before Noris demise.

Uzi, Doll, Lizzy and Thad used to be childhood friends, but after Nori died and Yeva began to pull Doll away from her cousin to protect her from any trace of the solver, Doll and Lizzy began to bully Uzi.

Uzi came out short, like her father Khan, whereas Nori was tall, partially due to the effects of the solver.

Uzi's favorite foods are Philadelphia Sushi Rolls, Shrimp Tempura Rolls, Shoyu Ramen, and Khan Plov (suprisingly)

Uzi's favorite dessert is Apple Cheesecake!

Khan and Uzi used to have a pretty wholesome father daughter bond, but when Nori passed, he distanced himself from his daughter around the time Doll and Lizzy started bullying her, due to fear the solver may have developed in his daughter. Unfortunately we all know what eventually happens in the series and how Khan picked the worst time in her life to try and rekindle a bond with her.

Uzi has a scar on her left shoulder from N stabbing her with his wing in the Pilot, but honestly she doesn't care if people see it, unlike N who's self concious about his scars, and she thinks it looks cool.

Once she begins to be taken over by the solver, her thirst for oil is uncontrollable, though she HATES the taste of it.

Uzi's favorite anime is Chainsaw Man, though N thinks it's to gorey.

N taught Uzi to fly with her wings, and it went...as well as you could expect the first few times, but eventually she learned.

Sometimes Uzi has moments where she doesn't remember certain events in the day like what she ate for breakfeast or what she did that day in school, and her mind sort of blips all over the place ever since her solver powers were activated. She doesn't know this, but whenever that happens the solver is slowly getting acustomed to her body, putting her conciousness to "rest" while it tries out her body.

N and Uzi's favorite activity is to watch the sun rise together from inside an abandoned building they have made their "treehouse" of sorts. V doesn't know about it, and it's filled to the brim with comfort items, furniture and decorations for whenever they decide to stay out too late and no make it back home to risk burning up.

Uzi's favorite animal is cows!

Uzi and N spoon each other often, even when they were just friends, because the warmth of their bodies makes them feel safe and loved.

Uzi's favorite subject is Science and anything to do with being hands on. She likes learning and school, but just "dislikes" likes and doesn't know how to speak to them without being bullied her peers with a passion.

Uzi can be very motherly and protective, and is actually very nuturing and kind underneath her edginess.

She'll NEVER tell V this to her face, but she's grown to love V as a big sister of sorts and cares about her as much as N.

Her favorite color purple. She thinks it makes her and N match look cool but you didnt hear that from her.

She likes alot of metal and hardstyle types of music, but acutally enjoy's N's upbeat and pop music from the late 1900's and early 2000's human era more than she lets on.

She doesn't like when N uses his deeper voice and whispers in her ear...it makes her feel...weird. But in a good way- wait what?

She loves to draw and totally doesn't have sketches of her, N and V as superhero anime characters, her and N building a neural network together in her sketchbook. EW. GROSS.

I didn't know how to end this, but I will say Im totally doing the other characters! Next is V!

____________________________________________________________

ALSOOOOO…

THANKYOU ALL FOR 1,000 FOLLOWERS GUYS!!!

IM WORKING ON A BUNCH OF STUFF LIKE ANIMATIONS ON YOUTUBE, MORE AU THINGS, AND WORKING ON MY ABSOLUTELY FANFIC! I'm hoping to expand more on my comics on Tumblr like my @thedarknessyouhold and the Murder Drones universe as a whole, so stick around for some awesome stuff coming soon!

My commisions are also open! You can find them on my KO-FI HERE and HERE !

You can ALSO find updates and sneak peeks sometimes as well!

AND my LINKTREE HERE!

#murder drones #murder drones fanart #murder drones uzi #uzi md #md uzi #digital art #fan art #starryinkartwork

182 notes · View notes

decolonize-the-left · 9 months

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.....does anyone else get the vibe that the limitless expanse of the internet, media, and consequent ability to interact politically, spiritually, and apathetically with people locally and globally maybe had an influence not only on the individual's relation to the collective but also their ability to participate in it and see their significance to it?

Can we talk about it?

Like I feel like as some who was a frontline activist and now is a disabled social activist who dabbles in radicalizing liberals... The wall I and my peers continuously keep running into is the collective feeling that someone else will do it.

"it" being whatever action.

For me it's signing a petition, protesting, donating, community organizing (both online and offline).

We get tons of interest on stuff. Interest which very rarely translates to doing more than showing a poster to the friend theyre with before trashing it, reblogging a post, or hitting "interested" or like when we post local events.

And on All these platforms posts gets to a point of "enough" responses where ppl just stop responding and sharing, too.

On Tumblr you see this a lot with donation posts and people constantly having to make new ones. Cuz they're getting notes, but not tangible assistance that will help them. And the reblogs stop because there are so many notes that ppl start assuming that the goal was met or will be met soon.

But that isn't what's happening. And like I said this isn't just with donation posts or money so the answer isn't "well ppl are broke" which would be an easy and sensible answer.

Honestly, I've been thinking that with so Many people easily accessible online with so many opinions and varying levels of popularity and followers that it's easy to lose yourself in them. Especially now when so much of life takes place online.

It's so easy to think you're just one of those many people. ....So surely nobody would notice if you were being a little facetious, right?

Gonna be real, it seems a lot to me like a lot of people are trying to hide their lack of integrity through the anonymity offered online.

And like sure maybe nobody would notice if it was just a few people being facetious about supporting something but it's SO MANY (in my experience? Upwards of a thousand once) and Everywhere. Online, offline, and apps.

And the thing that makes it weird is that every one is assuming that people are being more helpful than they are. That more people are showing up.... Even though they themselves are not showing up either. Like I said reblogs for donations stop, shares stop, and only a handful of ppl show up to events irl. You can literally compare reblogs to the signatures when a petition is being shared.

Wanting to show up isn't the same as showing up.

"People" are not coming to change or show up to the revolution. It's you. You are the people. You are the people that need to show up. Not just as a notification on my screen but actually, because you think someone else will have enough integrity to show up for you but they don't.

Your integrity matters.

You matter so much. I don't know what it is behind this mass behavior that has y'all acting otherwise but I'm telling y'all right now that YOU and the choices that YOU make matter. The events that you choose to spend your time at and how you spend your energy and protecting your rights matters!

That isn't some "im just another drop fighting an endless battle in the ocean" kind of deal.

I'm telling you from experience: there is no ocean! We are in a fucking drought and every drop matters.

Show up. Nobody else is doing it on your behalf.

.......or is it just me? Has anyone else noticed this

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theoddest1 · 2 months

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nothing irks me more than the defenders saying shit like "its a fictional character its not that deep/important" like it hasn't been proven that fiction can affect reality. yes i can differentiate fiction from reality.

downplaying the goofy ass of valentino, and joking about said character his actions, WHICH IS JUST A RAPIST, just tells me you don't actually care about this and the potential consequences. defending fictional characters like that leads to victim blaming and rape culture. see the sexy merch (/s) of angel often being chained up, or just look at raph and their defenders.

you can like valentino as a character (even though i really dont see what would be likable about him, his only traits are abusive manchild rapist), but defending his actions and joking about it is another thing because he's fictional.

i did not live though the era of real people thirsting over real serial killers and being "fans" of said real serial killer and defending them (on tumblr) for people to pull the "fiction" card like it's a "gotcha". the mentality behind defending fictional characters is the same as for irl people, thats my issue. its a slippery slope. the fiction card is so often used to justify the most disgusting shit eventually.

sorry for the rant. im just livid at how blind these people are. fiction is different from reality but to act like it can't or won't affect reality is...yeah.

Nah, dw fam, your rant is valid! Lots of these people sound a lot like those folks who try to justify Loli's by saying the same exact excuse, coupled with "well, she's actually 1 million years old"

I know some who go through the horrors of SA go through their own trauma in various ways, and so indulge certain fetishes as a way of coping and the like, but this is a show that all sorts of people view, including those who never went through SA, some of which will look at ep 4 and see it as goon material. The whole episode actually feels like an angst A03 fanfic tbh! It falls under some tropes I have seen or seen discussed within communities. The very fact that Viv stans look at Val, who has NO OTHER QUALITIES OUTSIDE OF ABUSIVE, romanticize and simp for him, and Viv herself indulging in this gross ass behavior is absurd but unsurprising.

This one below could be liked for the art, but considering the fact that she enjoyed Raph's gross ass animatic, I'm inclined to believe she thinks this dynamic with Val and Angel is attractive.

#anon ask #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel #hazbin fandom critical

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sorrelpaws · 4 months

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what are your personal favorite hcs for morty? (coming from another guy who is prime morty irl) and this could be any morty ^___^ or even hcs for how c137 and pmorty interact and just stuff about them/their dynamic since i really really enjoy how you depict them i feel like you’re one of the few that really Get the way they act around each other yknow. if that makes sense. you are just very epic like that /gen

ANOONNN this is such a cute ask SRYY its taken me a gazillion years to answer this its cuz a lot of my hcs/ the way i interpret rick and mortys dynamic is like. its hard to explain i sort of just get visions of dialogue and scenarios in my mind. BUTTT!!! ive managed to clean up the sludge a little . a huge hc i have for pmorty is that he has a lot of tiny miscellaneous scars because as he gets older he sort of wants to feign independence a little and act like he doesnt want/need rick's help. could also be a form of reclamation, "here's me exhibiting bodily autonomy" and all that. i love drawing him with a little eyebrow scar, its one of the more prominent ones i think um. For Reasons I Will Not Disclose but that i imagine are incredibly apparent either way. But an "canon" explanation for it is that he gets it sometime during the entire rickshank rickdemption fiasco, specifically pre-showdown. since this episode reallyyyyy tests mortys loyalty to rick, i think it'd be kind of fun to have his faith in him be punished with something so tiny but so permanent.

i've mentioned this before but i really think the best parallel to draw for rick and mortys day to day dynamic is high school guys who say they're best friends but dont even know each others favorite colors. like they just spend a lot of time hanging out and doing things together, but emotionally there's very little conscious substance, if that makes sense ???!! in the sense that they dont turn to each other if they need actual comfort, they just sort of bottle it up and cry about it behind the corner.

their whole dynamic is jumpstarted by rick needing someone by his side. he's just an old man who's desperate for company, and so he intentionally isolates morty from his peer, which in turn makes morty very reliant on rick, but rick really doesn't want to or know how to meet the emotional quota he deprives morty of. IF THAT MAKES SENSE. rick wants a loyal dog but doesn't want to put in the effort to earn its trust and respect. this kiindd of changes in newer seasons, with rick being less reliant on morty and instead opting for therapy and Friends in the same mental and physical age group as him, but it seemingly pretends rick's actions in earlier seasons have no consequences, and that morty is in no way affected by being robbed of a social life, which is ugh. whatever. i guess.

they're forever super clingy though. they're each others favorite person, even if they maybe kind of hate each other. rick is very emotionally stunted due to years of unprocessed trauma, and morty is hopelessly devoted to someone who gives him a semblance of positive attention.

#rick and morty #asks #RAAGHHHH #this kind of devolved into a meta analysis but o well......#morty smith #rick sanchez

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unsoundedcomic · 22 days

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Lots of peoples irl think an immortal soul/eternal essence/unforgettable memories is/are a defining characteristic of humans.

cont. "I mean to say that to those people it isn't so weird for humans to persist while the inhuman fade with their material being."

I know, I think that's most people. Humans tend to intuit some kind of extraphysical existence, the same way we intuit a flat earth and free will and a sun that moves across the sky - if we don't investigate all this and learn any different. I don't personally see how such a phenomenon is possible when we know that consciousness and indeed everything we are is produced by our brain. When the brain dies, we go black like the light on my ceiling fan when I flick the power switch off. We don't ask where the light went. It's just gone. Wolf's not still flailing around somewhere trying to avoid flung poop from an angry monkey when I end sekiro.exe.

I do understand the intuition though. When my dog died and I was carrying her out to the car to go to the doggie crematorium, her body was so shockingly pliant, heavy, and suddenly empty. It was like she'd left it and gone somewhere else. She didn't go with her body out to the car at all, she was just laying in my room behind my desk chair, still. It felt like that for weeks.

A lot of Unsounded's cosmology is the result of me wondering what the consequences would be if there really was extraphysical conscious existence. Like, there are so many versions of you. Which one would be eternal? Would your consciousness and memories at the time of death lift off you in one intact blob, or would everything break apart into all the selves you were? Your five year old self has no idea who your fifty year old self is, and vice versa, more or less. I don't see how they could stay together. If your five year old self simply doesn't get to be immortal like your death self, what about if you die with terrible dementia or a brain injury, would that just be you forever? Or does it roll back to a previous version? Where is that previous version coming from? Are there back-ups? So your child selves DO persist? What about all your trauma? Do you have to remember it all forever? Maybe you have no memories at all and are just an empty consciousness. Is there much satisfaction in being the equivalent of a disembodied houseplant for all eternity? Can you make new memories without a brain? How would you do anything without it? Or eyes or any senses?! AAAA!

Of course the simplest answer to all this is there's no reason to think it's a concern, the whole concept is just something we intuit incorrectly. Like the inak, I'm pretty cool with that. Because the alternative is really scary to think about.

Duane imagines Ssael seeing the khert and the eels and the squishes and all that, and deciding immediately that the Gods had to go.

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elbiotipo · 3 months

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Workbuilding Fundamentalist question: when it comes to dates, times and calendars in a fantasy setting where do you stand? I'm always conflicted as a writer just because changing the length of a year or what all the months are called all makes sense given that most fantasy worlds aren't earth and because every month is named after a person or deity and our calendar has been changed like 7 times in the real world. And yet I don't want to throw all this extra work at the reader.

Example I have a gas dwarf planet with like, winderwaker islands poking out above the gaseous ocean what people live on. And there's only 4 months in a year there so a 64 year old is still a teenager and it just seems like a lot to make someone keep track of.

First of all, very cool setting, I love islands among the clouds! Now, this is actually something I've given a lot of thought into, and might become a real concern if humanity goes to other planets.

There's, for example, an opening line of a Heinlein novel (IIRC) where a girl says she's 10 years old and thus old enough to marry, which is true, on Mars (the year is 687 days there). There is no reason, if one is designing a new planet, or even finding one IRL, to expect it to have the same day and year lenght to Earth, not even close. Mars with 21 hours is pretty close, but the length of our year and day is really just a cosmic coincidence. You could easily have an reasonably earth-like planet with shorter years (because it's closer to its star, or just revolves faster), or longer days or years.

However, very few fictional settings bother with this, and it's not hard to see why, you can have all sorts of exotic additions to your setting, but to wrap our head through different lenghts of the year or the day is a bit too much. Even different week lenghts, which did exist on history, sound strange. There are all sorts of different fantasy and sci-fi calendars, but at the root, most authors operate with "Earth-time". I don't blame them, it is 'extra work' for some readers, and it's not easy to wrap our head around, it's easier to say "this is sort of an alternate Earth" and be done with it. Also, to lenghten or shortern the year or day might bring all sorts of consequences from ecology to climate that should be considered, otherwise it's just a lame gimmick in my opinion.

HOWEVER, it's still an interesting piece of worldbuilding to consider!

Calendars of a sort have existed since humans started to count seasons and days, but our current society where there are calendars and clocks everywhere is quite recent, actually. I'm sure you are aware of the different calendars besides the BCE-CE one was imposed as the standard, many cultures . But there are also different ways of counting years;. The classic one is seasons, farming societies of course need it the most but hunter-gatherers also follow and know the seasons. There is no reason at all for them to correspond to the "temperate" seasons (summer, fall, winter, spring). Dry and wet seasons, cold and summer, and other options are not only possible, but have actually been widespread on human history. I recommend reading on Wikipedia about seasons, especially the section about non-calendar based seasons.

Of course the above applies to pre-industrial civilizations where timekeeping isn't as widespread. But even in those, counting years and ages is treated differently. Birthdays, for example, don't exist in all cultures. Koreans still count age based on the Korean new year, not your birthday. Some medieval Christian celebrated on the feast of the saint they were named after (and there are lots of them) or IIRC, their baptism. And so, a culture as yours might use different ways of counting the age of a person, perhaps by more "qualitative" rituals than just counting the years (though I have a feeling they would quickly adapt to their own calendar). Much like I told you about different kinds of seasons for different climates, I imagine that in worlds where the years are too short (or too long) to really make sense for the average person, some other ways of counting time will prevail. For example, are there predictable climate cycles in your planet? Moons (lunar calendars are always fun)? I can assume your planet has shorter years because it's closer to your star (by any chance, did you base it on red-dwarf orbiting planets?), so perhaps you could use something regarding the very visible star to count time?

Like I said at the beginning, this will be a real concern when humanity expands through space, and there's even a bit of debate if the human body can adapt to such heavy changes on its circadian rhytm. In any case, my prediction is that there would be a "Earth time", that is, 24-hours day and 365 day year, that is kept as standard out of convenience and in spaceships and space habitats (in my own setting Campoestela, it's called "ship time" because human spaceships use it as standard) and lots of "local times" on different planets with all the quirks I mentioned above, with everyone going into space learning how to convert their own time to "Earth time". Or maybe, to make things even more fun and, admittedly, complicated to the reader, the time of another time is taken as a standard. There's lots to play with here.

DON'T even ask me about relativistic time (like in Interstellar) because it makes my head hurt, even if I did use it a couple times on my stories. But "ship time" might be a real thing. Some cultures might have completely different 'times', not calendars, actually *times*, depending on relativistic time delation.

BTW anon, sorry for using this to promote myself, but if anyone loved this rant and would like to see more, I would appreciate some tips on my ko-fi (given the situation down here, now more than ever) and suggestions for other topics to talk about!

#worldbuilding #calendars #writing

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fangirltothefullest · 9 months

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Saw your post about the fandom, and wanted to stop by and say hi! It actually was nice to see that pop up on my dash, cause a lot of people are getting really negative about the waits, and I've seen it get kinda nasty. So seeing you be so genuine about enjoying it is really nice to see. I'm always open to talk about Sanders Sides, though, it's still one of my favorite things even after all this time.

ME TOO! I love it so much and I think... well as a Content Creator myself, I know how hard these past few years have been for me and I am not surprised at all that it's been hard for him and his team so I can be impatient and want more content but also... I can't be mad. A little peak into my brain coming and I apologize if that wasn't what you were looking for but-

I had to close commissions and my own patreon because I had to get a job that could actually support me, and had a TON of personal stuff happened to me and my family IRL that affected a lot of my online presence.

As a consequence I don't post art NEARLY as much as I used to and I found myself feeling EXTREMELY upset about it. I used to even livestream art, can you believe it? 8U

And I sat there worrying I'd never post art again because of the burnout and stress..... and I thought everyone who liked my stuff may leave. Because that's happened before- I was a product, a machine to pump out free stuff for people to enjoy, and when the product stopped coming, people just left. That's SO hard to face as a creator, ESPECIALLY when you are trying to GENUINELY provide your art and works pretty much for free and you're already going through traumatic stuff IRL behind the screen.

To see people getting SO angry with the content that HAS been provided hurts me more than the wait and it's not because I put the man on a pedestal it's because I humanized him. I had a shit few years and so did he. Would it have been nice for him to be like 'hey I need to go on a break for a while I'm sorry', hell yeah but I didn't either. I posted every so often about Going Through It and kicking myself privately because I could barely sketch on paper, much less muster the courage to do a digital piece, but I didn't tell people wehat I was going through until later and even then a lot of my life is private and I haven't disclosed stuff because... it's personal, it's private. Online space isn't supposed to be privy to all my secrets and stuff you know?

So when I see people nitpicking the plushie episode because it's also doubled as an ad for the toys, I want to growl and bite and hiss because it's STILL an episode with an actual PLOT; it's not like the crofters ads. FWSA, the cartoon one, is a 24 minute ASIDES video and was LITERALLY given to us during Covid when EVERYTHING ELSE was shut down. Have I Grown is an hilarious video that also somewhat recaps but less episode recap and more personal sides recaps- seeing how their current mental state is. The Wes Anderson one is literally a Season Recap episode. We got a fucking Janus Cover of an OtGW song and they're all in their casual clothes and that song is about pretending everything is ok just for a littler while and it's STILL technically plot related. WTIT is a fucking ASIDES video that's 28 minutes long AND HAS PLOT! AND THE CANON CONFIRMATION OF THE SUSPECTED ORANGE SIDE!!! Incorrect Quotes was a way for us to see them being silly and lighthearted and so is The Sides Need A Nice Day!

I just- that's a lot more content than I think people realize. Yes he has a full team but that doesn't stop the stress or the burnout, especially when half your fanbase is saying how terrible you're being not being faster.

Not to mention the bloopers and the Gavin Sides and the entire episodes of Roleslaying AND a cartoon therapy have all come out AND he was part of a few song collabs too.

I just.... I can't imagine going through the stresses I went through and how much it would hurt me to provide that much stuff and still have people angry. Do you know how much I've done since Covid? Not nearly as much in terms of BIG PROJECTS.

Sorry if this came off as a rant, I'm just so passionate about this show that I love to much! >//<

#sanders sides

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lemmetreatya · 1 year

Text

Eren’s Insta Spam (pt. 2)

eren x black!fem reader

pt. 1

pt. 3

Back again with these since I’m not making imagines until my uni work is somewhat up to a good standard *chu chu*

OKAy!! so as we know Eren is cautious of putting you on his main/public spam but he genuinely really wants to post more of you so he has a private insta where it’s mostly just his irl friends and family who can follow it

He’s on this account waaaay more but its actually amusing because most of his family dont know that he’s a public figure/internet famous. Not because he’s scared to tell them but simply because they’d just embarrass the hell out of him sudidxkdk so erens tricked them into thinking that his priv spam is his main. the only consequence to that is that they always urge him to treat it like Facebook TM

“Habibti, post that baba picture I sent you the other day on instagram.” Carla directs towards Eren but says as she scrolls on her phone.

“Oh my gosh, Eren’s baby photos?! Let me see!” Hearing part of the conversation, Dina comes from around the table to look over Carla’s shoulder, eager to see her step-son’s adolescent stage.

Rolling his eyes, Eren only slugs his feet towards the fridge to get himself something for the two of you to eat. Don't get him wrong, he was happy his mother and step-mother got along but together they were an insufferable pair.

“Amma, why would I show everyone my baby pictures? That’s too embarrassing. In every picture my hair always looks dodgy. If I didn’t know it was me in them, I’d think the child was neglected.” He joked.

With an expression of shock, Carla looked over at her son.

“What you mean you looked neglected? Your hair always looked right! I always made sure to have it cut and nice on the sides. Not like how you and your Abba have it now, all long and untidy.”

“My hair isn’t untidy.” He’d mumble. Not because he was ashamed in his hair but because he knew saying anything louder would count as backtalk and therefore get him in trouble.

“Hey, darling! Come!” Upon seeing you enter the kitchen, Carla beckoned for you to come to her. Unsuspecting of what conspired before you came in, you glanced in Eren’s direction before walking in to his mother instead.

“Hey Mama.” You’d say as you stood next to her.

Seeing the cheeky expression on her face and the quick look she made in Eren’s direction, you knew she was up to no good.

“Look, look.” She’d say in a hushed tone, gleefully turning her phone in your direction. “This when Eren was a baby.”

In her hand was a picture of a child who sat in the bath tub, face displaying childish tantrum. Clearly the child had a disdain for the bath time activity but what made the picture all the more memorable was the plethora of bubble suds that mounted on top of his head.

“No way. That’s Eren?” You laughed behind your hand.

Unaware of what was going on behind him but hearing his name in conversation, the brunette turned around to witness the commotion.

“What the— Amma, No!”

Even though its mostly embarrassing, Eren genuinely likes when you interact with his family. They were so receptive of you from the first time they met you. To a certain extent he even believes they like you a lot better than him 😭😭 They make this especially clear in his comments section

Liked by carlaakarjaeg_34, mikamikamii and 56 others

ej__jaeger can a guy ever get any sleep around here??? @ynprivnotpriv

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carlaakarjaeg_34 She Can Never Do Wrong!! Eren Make Sure You Be Nice xxxxx

lordhokagetheninth I. find this very amusing because….. i was never allowed to look at girls let alone havr them in my room at ur age. i walked so u could run.

ej__jaeger @lordhokagetheninth zeke can u stop changing ur @ i barely ever recognise u i was about to sb,, + ratio

ej__jaeger @carlaakarjaeg__34 always amma ❤️

Liked by carlaakarjaeg_34, dinafritz_off_fitfh and 74 others

ej__jaeger to my beloved. @ynprivnotpriv

on your special day id like to say thank you for being the most incredible thing to ever happen to me. without you there’d be no improved me. you always push me to higher capabilities but simply because you care and not because you have to. your capacity to love and to be uniquely you will never cease to amaze me. never change, not even for me. ill keep this short because i’ve literally written u 5 different paragraphs elsewhere but know that i appreciate you, way more than u imagine.

every time i will always choose you.

happy birthday baba.

urs always. ej x

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dinafritz_off_fifth Happy Birthday @ynprivnotpriv!! Hope your day is full of love, joy and all things lovely Just Like You!! 💖

annie_leonhart12 Happy Birthday X @ynprivnotpriv

yummir Eren you beyyer sling it on her today and i mean it. she deserves to be d1ck3d down 👽👽

ynprivnotpriv Thank you for all the kind wishes everyone 🥺🥺 I love you all @carlaakarjaeg_34 @arminarletarmin @lordhokagetheninth @dinafritz_off_fitfh @annie_leonhart12 @mikamikamii @grishaj__ @conniethe_conman @sashabear7891 @reiner_braunofficial @jeankirjr @berth_hoovr

ej__jaeger @yummir HELLO??????

————————————

Tags: @quiveringdeer because once again thank you for that reiner camera roll one and bc imma just tag you into these from now on

#eren x reader #eren jeager #eren yeager #eren x black reader #eren fluff #eren aot #eren moodboard #attack on titan #attack on titan eren

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