#this is what sleep deprivation does to a person!!!!

[hoshifighting]

idk if someone asked you this but i’m a new reader and I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS!!!

can you please make wonwoo, the nerdy president who u thought was innocent and sweet but he’s the one behind ur fave nsfw audio creator???? AND HE’S A HARDFUCKER.. not what u expected tho..

i don’t know if i make sense but please pretty please 😭☝️

Synopsis: where you discover that the nerdy class president is the one man who creates the most nasty NSFW audios that you spend long nights listening to. WC: 2.8k WARNINGS: smut, audio porn, masturbation, hard fuck, dirty talk (obviously), bad sleeping habits (because of wonwoo), fingering, spanking, dirty talk, pussy eating, penetrative sex, protected sex, wonwoo whining, a lil invasion of privacy.

you’ve been running on fumes all day, the hazy buzz of sleep deprivation clinging to your brain like static. it’s no surprise, really. your night had gone the way it always does: you got home, flopped into your chair, threw on your headphones, and let onyx_lens—your favorite nsfw asmr creator—drag you under with that stupidly deep voice of his.

it was kind of pathetic, actually. you barely remember what the script was about—something about obedience or whatever—but you do remember the sound of his voice sinking into your brain like warm honey, making you cum so hard that you blacked the fuck out right after. now here you were, bleary-eyed and trying to stay upright in literature class, the regret of last night’s poor choices catching up with you.

wonwoo, the class president who was somehow both effortlessly chill and annoyingly observant, had been glancing at you every few minutes. you could feel his eyes on you as your head dipped forward for the third time, only to snap back up like a busted bobblehead.

but, in true wonwoo fashion, he didn’t say anything. no scolding, no judgmental sighs—just quiet observation.

when class finally ended, you were ready to yeet yourself into a nap for a solid 72 hours. you were shoving your stuff into your bag when wonwoo’s voice cut through the noise.

“you good?”

you froze. his voice wasn’t the same as onyx_lens’s, obviously, but it had that same deep, smooth timbre that made your brain short-circuit for a second. it didn’t help that his question sounded so much like something out of an nsfw script. you turned to face him, hoping your face wasn’t giving away how flustered you suddenly were. “uh—yeah,” you said, shaking your head a little too quickly. “just tired.”

wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “not sleeping well?”

your brain screamed. your tired, half-horny brain screamed louder. the overlap of his voice and onyx_lens in your head was un-fucking-bearable. you managed to nod, muttering something about late nights and deadlines, hoping he wouldn’t pry.

he didn’t, but his next question wasn’t much better.

“think you could help me with the sci-fi project? your last lit analysis was good, and i could use the extra pair of hands.”

you blinked at him. “me?”

he nodded, adjusting his glasses. “you. unless you’re too busy with...whatever’s keeping you up.”

oh, you mean my nightly sessions with onyx_lens and my vibrator?

you swallowed hard and tried to play it cool. “nah, i can help.”

and that’s how you found yourself standing outside wonwoo’s apartment later that evening, clutching your bag. his place was exactly what you’d expect from him—minimalist, neat, and smelling faintly of coffee.

“come in,” he said, holding the door open for you. “make yourself comfortable.”

easier said than done. you perched awkwardly on his couch as he set up his laptop on the coffee table, your eyes darting around the room in an attempt to ignore how nice his voice sounded in person.

“so,” he began, sitting across from you, “any ideas for the project?”

you cleared your throat, trying to focus. “uh, maybe something about robots and humanity? like, exploring ethical dilemmas or something.”

wonwoo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your skin heat. “good idea. we could tie that into the main themes from class.”

he leaned forward slightly, scrolling through a document on his laptop, and you couldn’t help but notice how his glasses slipped down his nose. you were so not prepared for this level of proximity or his stupidly deep voice.

“you okay?” he asked again, glancing at you.

you blinked, realizing you’d been staring. “yeah, just...thinking.”

his lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. “good. let me know if you need a break or...anything.”

the way he said anything sent a shiver down your spine. you weren’t sure if it was exhaustion, residual arousal from last night, or the sheer presence of wonwoo in his element, but your brain was a mess.

you were supposed to be helping him with this project, but all you could think about was the way his voice would sound whispering in your ear, saying things that would make onyx_lens blush.

you were so close to winning the “most pathetic college student of the year” award it wasn’t even funny. after much back-and-forth with wonwoo, class president of your downfall, you somehow convinced him to let you walk home alone. except the man still went all soft and paid for a taxi anyway, which, like… thanks? but also stop being so nice, what the hell.

it was nearing 11 p.m. when you got home, and as if on cue, your phone pinged with a notification: onyx_lens’s weekly live is starting.

you stared at it for a second, blinking in disbelief. today’s theme? "neon circuits and orgasm denial (a cyberpunk experience) 8d audio"

sci-fi-themed. of fucking course.

you almost laughed at the audacity of the universe for this one. was this some sort of cosmic joke? was wonwoo onyx_lens?! no way. no goddamn way. you shook off the thought as delulu nonsense and dragged yourself to the bathroom for a quick sponge bath.

by the time you flopped into your chair, headphones on, the live was already in full swing. that voice—that stupidly deep, velvety voice—flooded your ears as the chat buzzed with unhinged comments. onyx purred, and you were done for.

you couldn’t even focus on the sci-fi plot he was spinning, something about rogue androids, monster cock, neon vibrators and human experimentation. his voice wrapped around you like a silk chokehold, and you were gone—just a vibrating mess in your chair, coming undone embarrassingly fast.

fast forward to the next morning: you woke up feeling like a used dishrag. again. headphones still on, your phone dead, and the memory of last night’s live replaying in your brain like a broken record.

by the time you dragged yourself to class, you were running on fumes and vibes. your hoodie was scrunched up around your face, making you look like a cross between a gremlin and an overgrown baby.

wonwoo noticed. you could feel his eyes boring into you as you tried—and failed—to stay upright. you were so close to just giving in and laying flat on the floor. honestly, it might’ve been comfier than your chair at that point.

wonwoo, sitting two rows away, looked like he was internally debating whether to intervene or let you rot in peace. when the bell rang, you startled awake like you’d been electrocuted, nearly knocking your stuff off your desk in the process.

“you okay?” he asked, falling into step beside you as you shuffled out of the classroom like a zombie.

“i’m fine,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your hoodie. “just need food. like, now.”

you detoured to the convenience store on the way to his apartment, snagging an entire kimbap roll and tearing into it like a starving animal. wonwoo followed behind, holding your water bottle with a look that was equal parts judgment and amusement.

“you couldn’t wait?” he asked, watching as you ate half the roll in one bite.

“bro,” you said around a mouthful of rice, “if i didn’t eat this, i was gonna pass out on the cold asphalt. your problem now, mr. class president.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, just handed you your water like the reluctant babysitter he was.

this was going to be a long afternoon.

you couldn’t help yourself. the suspicion had been eating away at you for weeks now, ever since you first heard his voice in class and that nagging sense of déjà vu set in. wonwoo had escaped to the bathroom, and you had the perfect opportunity to snoop.

your fingers hovered over his notebook, but then your gaze darted back to your own screen. back and forth, back and forth. his notebook. yours. the coincidences were piling up like a conspiracy wall in your head. the voice, the specific vocabulary choices, even the cadence—how did i not notice this earlier?!

“fuck it,” you whispered to yourself, grabbing his notebook and quickly pulling up the site where you normally streamed your favorite asmr creator. just to check. just to confirm your theory.

your heart pounded as the site loaded, every second dragging like molasses. the channel page opened, and at first, it seemed normal. too normal. you almost clicked away, feeling stupid for even suspecting anything.

but then you saw it: edit profile. analytics.

your breath caught, and a sharp scoff escaped you as you crossed your arms. oh, my god. the realization hit you like a freight train. it’s him. wonwoo. class president. sci-fi nerd. “how the fuck did i not notice?” you muttered, half impressed by his audacity.

you were so lost in your spiraling thoughts that you didn’t hear him return—until his voice, practically kissed your earlobe.

“what. do. you. think. you. are. doing?”

you jumped so hard your knee slammed into the underside of the desk. whipping around, you found wonwoo standing over you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tight.

“uh—nothing?” you stammered, trying to slam your laptop shut, but his hand darted out and stopped you.

“‘nothing’ doesn’t look like you snooping through my computer,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

your cheeks burned. “okay, fine, maybe i was curious—”

“you were curious?” his tone sharpened. “curious enough to invade my privacy?”

“invade your—bro, you’re literally whispering dirty robot sex fantasies to the entire internet. how is that private?”

“that’s different!” his ears flushed a deep red, and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. “that’s content. this—this is personal.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “oh, please. you’re mad i figured it out. admit it.”

he leaned closer, towering over you now, his hand pressing down on the desk beside you. “what do you want, huh? blackmail? are you gonna tell everyone?”

you laughed, loud and incredulous. “tell everyone?! dude, relax. i’m not gonna expose your little side hustle. besides…” you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. “you should be thanking me. clearly, i’m a fan.”

wonwoo’s eyes darkened, and his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. 

“you’re a what?” he asks, your pulse skyrocketing as he stepped even closer, crowding you against the chair.

“did i stutter?” you whispered, the challenge clear in your tone.

his mouth crashed onto yours, teeth and tongue and frustration. you barely had time to process it before he was yanking you out of the chair, his hands rough as they gripped your hips and spun you around.

“you want to act like a brat,” he growled into your ear, his voice so reminiscent of his asmr persona that it made you roll your eyes back slighty, “then you’re gonna get treated like one.”

he bent you over the desk, the cold surface pressing against your chest as he yanked down your college skirt and underwear at once. his fingers slid through your folds, already slick just from being around him.

“so fucking wet,” he muttered, almost to himself. “you get off on this, don’t you? knowing it’s me.”

“shut your mouth,” you gasped, but it came out more like a moan as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them and pressing them hard on your front wall.

“make me,” he challenged, his other hand coming down sharply on your ass. the sting made you gasp, your hips jerking against his hand as you tense on the desk.

the pace of his fingers was relentless, his thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts. every part of your body was starting to be feveirsh, and you hated—hated—how easily he was unraveling you. you spent nights thinking about how it would be if onyx fucked you, and here you are. of course you would be a mess in a second.

“sorry” he mocked you. “am i too much for you?”

you clenched around his fingers, your nails digging into the desk as you tried to hold back a moan. “you talk too fucking much actually wonwoo,” you hissed.

“yeah, that's what's paying me at nights” wonwoo chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers out and flipping you onto your back with his big arms. before you could protest, he was kneeling between your legs, his mouth suddenly hot and insistent against your core, better than any other vibrator you insisted on using at night.

the sounds—the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue—mixed with your whimpers as he devoured you like a man starved. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

“stop—”

“stop?” he looked up, his chin glistening. “not until you admit i’m your favorite.”

you glared down at him, breathless and defiant. “you’re such an asshole.”

“and yet…” he smirked, diving back in and flicking his tongue against your clit until your head fell back, a broken moan spilling from your lips.

it didn’t take long before you were coming undone, your body shaking as his mouth pulled your clit. wonwoo didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, dragging out your orgasm until you were a trembling, incoherent chaos beneath him.

wonwoo doesn’t waste a second after pulling back, his hands flipping you over again so you’re bent over the desk, your cheek pressed to the cool surface as he grinds against you. the thick outline of his cock rubs against your dripping folds, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants. you gasp, your hips jerking back involuntarily, and his pearly-white smile flashes above you.

“look at that,” he murmurs, almost smug, as a dark spot begins to spread on his sweatpants from your slick. “you’re soaking me through.”

the way he emphasizes the word makes your back contort in shivers, but you’re too far gone to care. your fingers claw at the desk as he keeps humping against you, his pace quickening. when he finally pulls back, you hear the shuffle of fabric as he yanks down his sweatpants and briefs. the soft clink of a drawer opening catches your attention, and you crane your neck to see him sliding on a condom.

“you’re still melting all over my desk,” he rubs a hand over the curve of your ass. “can’t even wait for me, huh?”

before you can respond, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you gasp. he doesn’t stop, spanking you again and again until your skin is flushed and burning.

“you look so pretty like this,” he says, his hand smoothing over the heated skin before gripping your waist and lining himself up. “all messy and desperate for me.”

when he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch until you’re full and breathless, pussy trying to clench at his big grith to adjust. wonwoo groans, his head falling forward as he sinks in to the hilt.

your walls flutter around him, and he moans at the feeling, the sound so real and raw that it sends a jolt straight to your core.

“talk to me,” you manage to gasp, your voice muffled against the desk.

he chuckles, his pace picking up as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “you want me to talk dirty? you want me to tell you how tight you are? how good you’re taking me?”

you moan in response, your hips bucking back against him as his words send you curling.

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he continues, his voice thick with lust. your moans grow louder, and he suddenly remembers the videos you must’ve listened to—the whining, the moaning. the thought makes his stomach flip, and he decides to give you exactly what you want.

he starts letting out soft whimpers, his voice breaking with each thrust, the sounds spilling out almost involuntarily. “fuck, babe, you’re gonna make me cum—”

the genuine desperation in his voice drives you wild, and your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper. he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave marks, but you don’t care.

“please,” he moans, his voice high and strained. “let me cum for you. let me—fuck—”

you push back against him, meeting his thrusts as your own climax builds, your breaths coming in short, broken gasps. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies moving together, and the tension snaps all at once.

you come hard, your body shaking as you cry out, and wonwoo isn’t far behind. his hips stutter, a guttural moan escaping him as he spills into the condom, his body trembling with the force of it.

he collapses over you, his chest heaving against your back as you both try to catch your breath. after a moment, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his voice still hoarse as he murmurs, “guess i’m a little better live, hm?”

you just let out a defeated moan, the coldness of the table soothing your hot cheeks.

“keep quiet about this, and i'll keep giving you more.” well, it's just an excuse that wonwoo said to fuck you over again.

[pinkxpantha]

New Years Resolutions

-Lyney x GN!Reader

#: synopsis- Lyney has a massive crush on you, and decides he needs you by his side before the year ends

#: cw- 1.9k words, you/they pronouns, lyney is kinda oblivious, kiss scene (brief) Lynette and Freminet mentioned, confession, ect ect I'm so tired 😭

Lyney is confident, charismatic and so many other positive adjectives according to himself and others. Yet why does it feel as though none of that matters when it comes to you?

You weren't some important figure, realistically, you didn't stand out from most crowds.

But why do you have to be so.. you?? Lyney isn't the type to get so overwhelmed when he sees someone smile that his heart stills in his chest. So unusually that the first time it happened he thought he was on death's doorstep.

And of course, it just had to be you to cause this feeling in him.

"ney--"

You always sparked such an unfamiliar experience in him. The novelties of life always had a touch of 'you' in them.

"Lyne--"

How could he ever dare to dream of a new day without you in it?

"Lyney, wake up."

"[Name]--" He quickly cut himself off at the sight of his sister deadpanning. She looked so done with him, and that was kind of warranted.

He cleared his throat, "Er-- Lynette." Lyney rubbed the sleep off his eyes as he looked up at her.

"This is starting to get concerning." She spoke, her voice as monotonous as always. He didn't miss the edge of worry in her tone.

His hands kneaded into the plush of the couch that he somehow fell asleep on.

"Lynette, that's a stretch. I know calling you-" "And freminet." "... and freminet by the wrong name on accident is annoying but it's nothing to be concerned about." He waved his hand in a placating gesture.

"I still recognize my wonderful sister and enthusiastic brother." Lyney nodded.

"Enthusiastic?" Lynette echoed, her arms folded into each other.

"You should see him ramble about some of the things he's found on his diving trips."

Lynette nodded in thought, "I see it, but that's not what i'm talking about."

What? That's the only unusual thing he's done recently. What is she talking about?

"--your painful crush on [Name]."

Oh.

That... makes a lot more sense.

"I know i'm not the best person to give you advice on this manner-- but you need to do something about it. We can see how much it's been affecting you--"

"Lynette, I appreciate your concern but i'm fine." He assured. It wasn't like Lyney was steeped in longing. You were just--- ugh. So many things reminded him of you. Could you really blame him when your absence felt like his oxygen was being deprived?

"You say that but how much longer are you going to wait?" Lynette said, her words pointedly accusing.

"..?"

"Are you going to wait for them to make the first move or until these feelings of yours bubble over?"

Lyney hesitated. Lynette's words seemed so direct, as though she was confronting a part of himself he hid under layers and layers of facades and empty promises.

"What are you so scared of?"

He doesn't want to lose you. A world where everything reminds him of a faded memory-- one he could never hope to experience again would feel like torture.

But this anemoia of what it feels like to wrap his hand around yours could become something real if he just made a move.

Lyney didn't need to say anything for his sister to understand what he was thinking. As if each thought was paved into the muscles of his forehead, and his act of stoicism only made the words more legible for her to read off him.

"Reach out, Lyney." She advised.

Lyney was many things, a fool might be one of them. He had a golden opportunity, and he'd be an absolute moron to ignore it.

Lyney has scrolled through way to many websites in the past twelve hours. He hopes nobody finds his search history in the moments of desperation he held.

Wikihow articles be damned--- he was going into the new years with you by his side.

How many romance related searches has he looked for? Good question, anyways. He would have to put is faith in those cookie-filled sites even as desperate as he was he wouldn't put any faith into Instagram, TikTok or god forbid Reddit.

Not to mention the hour he spent just rewriting one text.

'hey [name] r you doing anything for new years?'

'wanna celebrate new years w/ us?'

'pls come over I cant do this anhmore'

'are you doing anything? I want to spend new years with you'

Shit, he didn't mean to press send. He quickly went to delete the message only to see you just happened to read it at the same time.

So the world really does hate me.

'a and with freminet and Lynette too of course!! 11!'

Lyney quickly typed out that second message. He groaned, flinging his phone onto his bed, his head now stuffed in between the pillows cushioning the head.

Even as he felt the vibration of his phone from his embarrassed position on the bed, he made no movement to check.

Fear of rejection? No, this would kill him.

Maybe he was being dramatic-- yet he typed each letter with the yearning of a thousand starving lions, and like felt you would see how down bad he was through the screen.

Though when he eventually had to check his phone (because unfortunately he can't ignore everything) his siblings heard his cry of joy.

You agreed!

A few more texts were sent coordinating where you were going to meet up.

So there he was, right at the shore of one of the nearby beaches.

The dusky night made the sand look dark, almost muddy if not for the faint illumination of the stars. His siblings were already with him. Lynette preferring to rest by the car as to not feel the grains of sand somehow slipping under her feet. Freminet moving just where the sand and water met, his ankles getting splashed occasionally.

And then he saw you, dressed a lot warmer than he was, a scarf wrapped around your neck. Even in the shroud of darkness the first thing he saw were your eyes. The starlight glimmer made them shine so beautifully.

"You look like you're going to freeze."

A voice he recognized so well, too familiar to his heart.

"Hey [Nam]--" He cut himself off, fabric swiftly wrapped around his neck. He didn't even notice how cold it was until you made him feel so much warmer.

"There, you should stop shivering soon." You were so close to him-- he realized you were right, his hands were trembling at his sides.

Thank archons it's nighttime. He would hate to have you see how flustered he was, he could feel his face grow hot, and not from the scarf.

Get a grip!

He tried not to focus on the proximity of your faces, but he couldn't help it. You backed away from him with a chuckle, your head turned towards the ocean stretched out ahead.

"Thanks," he said, his gaze completely locked onto you. "I wasn't that cold." The breeze of night brushed against your face.

You turned back to face him.

"Hah, sure. I'll agree with that for now." You grinned

He blinked.

Why were you smiling like that? Your lips stretched to the risen corners of your mouth, the corners of your eyes crinkled just the slightest.

Curse all those sources saying to "Be confident" that might work for him if it was anybody else he was talking to.

"Are you cold?" Good save, Lyney. good save.

You shrugged, "I'll be fine."

"We could start a fire or something." He offered, only partially joking.

You let out a few breathy laughs, "once a pyromaniac, always a pyromaniac."

You both kept talking, walking along the beach, right next to each other. If you bothered to pay attention, you might've seen freminet and Lynette distance themselves as the clock ticked closer to twelve.

It wasn't long before you both were secluded, the only other person was each other.

Lyney checked his phone, '11:55' it read.

"Only five more minutes before the new years." He smiled as he spoke, his steps halting in the sand. The footprints you and he made all lead up to this right?

"You excited?"

He nodded, "I guess." Lyney took a deep breath, his priorities solely focused on you. You stopped next to him, moving in front just so you could see his face.

"What's on your new years resolution?" He asked. His hands stuffed in his pocket. His fingers traces barely around the edge of the paper.

"Probably just the usual, I haven't given much thought to it." You said, your hands rubbed against one another. "You?"

He hesitated-- no, he didn't have time to hesitate.

"I want to spend more time with my family,"

Freminet and Lynette came to mind, their faces were plastered all over his life, he'd be damned if they weren't there.

"I want to experience new things."

He thought of you, the warmth you brought into his life. His instincts craved the comforting heat of safety, of home. Each new thing he could cup in his hands always had that warmth since you taught him to appreciate these minuscule things.

"And.. I want to be with you."

He confessed, as soon as the words escaped his mind and into the atmosphere around you, he couldn't stop.

"[Name], you're too good to me. Each second I'm near you, I swear you've changed something fundamental in me. Even though it feels like I can't breathe, I've never felt more alive in those moments."

He looked up to face you, your eyes wide and gaping at him. His blonde hair messily fell down the side of his face as he looked up at you-- just you.

He grabbed your hands in his, raising your knuckles up to his lips, letting his warm breath sooth the cold that nipped at your fingers.

Even with the fireworks booming off in the distant areas. you were the only thing he focused on. You consumed all of his senses.

"I want to be yours this year." He said, his voice a mere whisper in the grand scheme of things.

But you weren't the type to look at a wide picture. Those small details, each individual brush stroke mattered to you. The sincerity of those words took you off guard.

His eyes were locked onto your face, his heart thrumming in his chest. Then you moved.

Your fingers slipped from his palm, cupping the sides of his face instead. The cold still clung to the tips of your fingers, but he didn't mind. He realized what was going to happen.

You leaned in, and so did he. Your lips slotting together in a mix of warmth and chill. He wasn't prepared for this, and he thought you weren't either.

Expecting the unexpected is a part of life though.

So even as your lips parted he swore he could still feel them on his, the warmth lingering.

"Happy new years." You said, your chest heaving with each breath you took.

Lyney was still in the past, hung up on the feeling of you.

"W-wait," He covered his mouth and nose with his hands, the tips of his fingers pressed against each other.

"You look flustered." You hummed, the circles of your cheeks risen in a smile.

"A-ah.. yeah." He only said in response.

Lyney was confident, and charismatic. When it came to you, he poured his confidence into his actions, his words left behind. He was charismatic, his words, although delayed, carried such sincerity. He acts complex.

"Could I kiss you?"

But he is a simple person.

[vikdec4i]

why did mordecai shoot viktor?

i wish i knew BUT we can always do what every fandom does: SPECULATE!!!

i have seen a lot of people interpret this as a very messed up, angsty, “i shouldn’t have been so infatuated with you and now i need to deal with my repressed emotions” goodbye. i do love this interpretation. THE FACT MORDECAI WAS WILLING TO ACCEPT VIKTOR HATING HIM FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES IS SO EUGH… IT’S CHEF’S KISS

or, simply, they got into a very heated and violent argument which seems very plausible as well!

BUT HEAR ME OUT…

what if viktor actually knows mordecai than we think he does. and that mordecai shooting him in the knees was his way of saying:

“I’m leaving and don’t even think about trying to find me.”

[the--firevenus]

That one world quest with cassadee where we try to help her realize that her idolization of merlin maybe not for who he is as a person, but rather what merlin represent.. Which is magic itself....

Anyways, take that concept and put it to when young mirael when she was still merlin student. In a sense, her adoration for merlin appear the same to cassadee idolization for merlin, and once merlin had said to young mirael; "are you sure you're adoring me for who I am or are you adoring merlin?" and for the longest time mirael was so sure what she likes about her mentor IS for who that person really is, not the title he carries, not what he represent as a whole. Merlin was mirael dearest and she so sure of that, so sure she looked for her mentor for 20 years...

Then she meet her dearest again, except... He's different. no longer the same person she remembers (and he doesn't remembers her)

So once again came in the question... Is it merlin she adore, or her dearest "mentor"?

[bruhstation]

of fucking course the best, most harrowing, most gut-wrenching tugs character only appeared in one episode (a bit of ramble in the tags)

[teaitis]

That Gojo booklet...

[green-cinnamon-stick]

Louis De Pointe Du Lac: A Study on Memory

Okay this started off as me berating myself for watching "I Could Not Prevent It" before work. And devolved into revelations. So enjoy my sleep deprived ramblings. Spoilers ahead for S2.

Okay why the fuck did I watch this episode knowing I have a week of hell at work ahead of me? Because now I'm spiraling going through the tag on Twitter. There is SO much nuance added to Loustat. And after hours upon hours of the manipulation that is Loumand, to finally have Loustat again is driving me mad. Because we got them back but at what cost? This isn't them and because so much of Paris is laced with Armand, it's hard to tell what's real from what we think is real. Hell Armand said the very same. But I don't mean the obviously not real elements like the trial. I mean the times Lestat breaks character, but instead of adding to what Louis told us, it's almost a complete rewrite. Which brings into question how unstable Louis' mind actually is. Louis who is attentive and consistently praises Daniel for his memory. Daniel who is not a spring chicken and had a very serious drug addiction for almost a decade. The man whose memory shouldn't be as intact as it is. Why does he recall more than the vampire who's supposed to be better than humans. Yes time warps things but complete rewrites? Is Louis' brain and memory that fragile or is this more manipulation from Armand? Which also begs the question, how much is Armand doctoring Louis' memory? After the San Francisco episode they want us to believe if he can rewrite a week, he can do more. But what if he HASN'T done that much. What's Louis' actual mental decline and what's Armand? We also still have no explanation for Lestat outside of Louis potentially being schizophrenic...........holy shit I think I just answered my own question.

Schizophrenia is a genetic trait. I've been saying it's the trauma because I wrote off Paul as an anomaly in their family. But what if he's not? What if Louis' own schizophrenia was simply delayed BECAUSE of the vampirism. But time is catching up to him and the immortal blood can only do so much. "Law number 2: The Dark Gifts must never be given to the crippled." The law goes on to say it's because the gift should be bestowed on beauteous people as a laugh in the face of god. But time and time again we've heard it can't be given to children who are also considered crippled, because their brains can not handle it. It has nothing to do with beauty and everything to do with vampirism exacerbating issues. When Lestat made Louis he seemed of sound mind and body, and he was...because it hadn't started yet. And a vampire surviving brutal injuries in turn makes them stronger. Louis burns himself his first day. The fall was his first big recovery. Then the burning in SF. He's gotten stronger which keeps the decline at bay. But he's growing weaker living in that tomb of an apartment. Armand goes out but Louis stays home. Isolated.

He tried to break free with Daniel once. Here we are again and would you look at that...his memory is suddenly coming back clearer. Okay I need to sleep before I dig even deeper into whether or not I'm way off base or I've cracked the code.

[fellhellion]

sorry i need to expel the demon that is comicsverse thoughts from my head w a weirdly structured ramble ive been trying to articulate fdsjkfhkjds

-> miguel is initially alienated from his body post transformation - not just due to the nonconsensual nature of being spidered - but because he views the transformation as alienating him from a claim to humanity

-> however, the identity of spiderman and the ideals that represents seems to be in big part the means by which miguel reconciles himself to the nature of his physical body. not only do his abilities become naturalised to his understanding of himself as Miguel (rather than being thought of as alien) but they enable spiderman to be that force for good and change that miguel so desperately wants to see in himself

-> but miguel simultaneously depersonalises himself from his spiderman identity. he thinks of it as the better half of himself, as something almost ephemeral, that he doesn't quite have a claim to or is able to reconcile completely to Miguel The Human Being and all his associated baggage

-> and that's an interesting internal conflict to have when he simultaneously can never escape the lived reality of his own body and where it diverges from those around him, even as that lived reality eventually becomes something he can reconcile himself to far more easily

-> and what overhangs across this entire discussion is context of (and thus how Miguel would be influenced by) Nueva York's hypercapitalist society and thus the understanding and conception of your physical body in that lens. how much or little your body is owed by you yourself. the access you are told must be permitted to it by others/corporations. how the physical body is policed and politicised. the commodification of the body in the most literal sense via Vulture's cannibalism.

[irrelevantso]

Not thinking it through

My friend asked me to describe a good Ninjago ship, just before the pilot started (her first time watching the show.)

In a rush of stupidity, I blurted out "The son of God & a cameraman."

Needless to say, she turned off the TV.

[bleaksqueak]

Insomnia is letting up off and on, but I'm still super jelly brained from it case in point, I want to continue back with posting WIPs for the aired pages, but I can't remember what page I left off on now lmao (guess I'll have to dig through my blog to check... eesh. at least it's decently organized by tags?) Not a result of goo brain, really, but equally "AUGH" is that I let my screen protector go for too long without replacing it and now it's slick as snot and I don't have a replacement handy to put on it. This isn't a resulting consequence of goo brain but it does mean I'm going to be trying to draw without any traction while I'm already loopy. Good times ahead!

[acourtofquestions]

Possibly dumb fandom question of random nonsense: is Rowan vegetarian?

— If he isn’t… does that mean he eats all meat… including bird? … or is that cannibalism?😅😂

[promise-you-doie]

how does brothers best friend sound? Slow burn, 30k words. (maybe that’s not slow burn but idccc) Fuck it i’m gonna do it.

[babsaros]

How did you know you were gay?

ah, couple reasons i guess. some that only became obvious with like 15 years of hindsight, and only after pulling myself out of the deep dark pit of compulsory heterosexuality.

like. classic symptoms of lesbianism include shamefully staring at the floor when you pass the women's underwear racks in the department store, even though you're not quite sure why you're uncomfortable. that sort of thing.

i have memories from early elementary school of accidentally glimpsing down a girl's shirt at recess and then bottling up that feeling and refusing to think about it. any time i had a crush on a boy, it was from an extremely idealized and safely non-actionable distance. the one time i did have a boyfriend, it was just my guy best friend from middle school, we dated for barely a school year before i ended it and the most physical intimacy i was ever comfortable with was holding his hand when we walked to class. i went to a different school's prom because a guy i was kind-of friends with asked me, and spent the whole night uncomfortably avoiding eye contact.

basically i started questioning my sexuality towards the end of high school, when i noticed myself getting like. jealous about my guy best friend's girlfriends?? like. i wanted to date them. i wanted to steal them from him lmao. i thought girls were pretty and soft and nice and cute and i was too afraid of being a predatory creep to do anything about it besides have far-fetched daydreams, but there was no heterosexual explanation. like, i hugged a girl i thought was pretty one time and it did things to my brain. that memory got locked in for life.

i identified as ace/pan early on, but again- compulsory heterosexuality. the idea of being with a guy romantically or sexually was never actually appealing. i had just been told that was what i was supposed to want my entire life, and the movies do a great job of selling that fantasy. but really i was just a lonely depressed helpless romantic teenager that wanted to be loved lol.

a large part of why i identified as asexual was because i was so sex-repulsed by the idea of penetration, honestly? (which i have since gotten over, but specifically Only with girls. the idea of having sex with a man still icks me out, and my preference is definitely femme-presenting ppl) a bit of it was probably also because i hadn't unpacked gender yet either. it made it very difficult to actually imagine myself having sex with anyone ever lol. this is gonna sound so cringe to say, but reading gay smut did awaken things in me.

in conclusion, tldr, i just like to think about tits and kissing women sometimes, idk. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[pirateborn-a]

Forever normal ab roger and his not-sons-yet-boys

[septembersghost]

me watching any piece of media ever made: how can i make the thesis here about the wondrous, fulfilling, frightening, destroying, restorative, glimmering thrall of, and tragic inevitability of grief within, any and every form of love?

elvis (2022): *very first thing we hear* oh, let our love survive... *later*: love song i've known since childhood used in a dark, ominous way and a desperately tender one: some things are meant to be. take my hand, take my whole life too, for i can't help falling in love... *later still*: it was love. *last*: i need your love...

ah. okay. so you just made my job too easy. i don't even have to search for it. thank you. guess i'll go insane.

[dandelions-and-white-wolves]

You can tell the exact moment I fell asleep while actively writing and my brain proceeded to predictive text the most rambling non-sequitur until my head fell and woke me up again.