#like to enable my hyperfixation

[thekuraning]

tempted to start my own tiger & bunny wiki that isnt on fandom tbh

[5-htagonist]

i love art, im very grateful for adderall for gifting me with the executive function, ease of prioritization, and clearness of thought <3

[hiddenonigiri]

pretty much just consumed all of the king's avatar content out there (watched the donghua, watching the drama, read select chapters of the books/webtoon past where the donghua was at). with all the difference between all the iterations, there is one thing that pretty much stays the same:

ye xiu really out here collecting rookie kiddos like nothing

[elytrafemme]

okay i actually have an insane amount of work to get done but to lovepost about my college best friend RQ bc since coming to college and realizing that i actually escaped the borderline unlivable conditions of my high school life i realized i'm actually really talkative (crazy that you talk a lot when people listen LMFAO) and my poor friend has had to hear like SO much shit about dan and phil. and with the other folks i talk about them to they already know who dan and phil are but my best friend never got into them and he knows the Era but it was never up his alley and yet he's been. so patient to me as i like ramble to him about the Dan is leaving me video for the thirtieth time... sometimes there is joy in being annoying Sometimes there is joy in knowing your friends don't care about WHAT youre saying but just care that you're saying it. idk i love him

[studioeisa]

im here to harrow you.

thinking about f1 minghao crashing out on radio…. idk why… its burned in my mind…

crash and burn 📟 minghao x reader.

★ mercedes driver!minghao x reader ┆ word count: 1.8k ┆ includes: profanity, slight Trivia 承: Love reference. ┆ footnotes: oh, you are CRUEL for preying on my hyperfixation like this. how i ended up writing this much is anybody's guess.

For a moment, the entirety of Mercedes falls quiet.

You could hear a pin drop. The pit wall, the operations room, the garage. Deathly silent. 

Xu Minghao never swore on the radio. 

He could have. He’s certainly had his fair share of instances where a cuss or two would have been acceptable. The time he crashed into Williams’ Vernon on the final lap of the Australian Grand Prix, for example. Or the Singapore race where he ended up in the barriers after battling his teammate, Wonwoo, for podium position. 

Minghao hadn’t cussed then. Everybody liked to joke that his face often did the talking for him— his expressions post-race landing him on the front page of every sports media outlet. 

The Chinese racer was calm, cool, and collected under pressure. Critical without being cruel. Demanding without being demeaning. 

And yet, today, in Monaco— 

“Why do I have the penalty?” Minghao screeches, his voice crackling over the radio. “Hello?”

“Track limits, turn nine,” his race engineer says, voice carefully measured.

“You’re kidding!” Minghao downshifts aggressively as he rounds the next corner. The tires wail, the car jolts, and the telemetry lights up with data that makes the pit wall wince. “I stayed within the white line! You saw it, everyone saw it!” 

The pit wall scrambles. Engineers replay the footage frame by frame, dissecting every pixel of the contentious corner. The commentators speculate wildly, cameras cutting to Minghao’s onboard view. Sky Sports plays the radio message on repeat, the words for fuck’s sake! echoing through living rooms worldwide.

But Minghao doesn't care about the broadcast. Doesn't care about the headlines already being written. His pulse hammers, hands locked around the steering wheel like a vice.

“Box this lap, Hao. Serve the penalty,” the team calls. “Then push. We can still fight for points.”

Minghao murmurs something incoherent, though it doesn’t take a genius to guess that it’s probably another curse. He lifts off the throttle, coasts through the last sector, and dives into the pit lane. The Mercedes crew swarms the car, stoic and efficient, every second ticking down with excruciating slowness. 

The lollipop stays down.

Ten seconds feel like an eternity.

Minghao slams the throttle as soon as he’s released, launching back onto the track with a cloud of tire smoke.

“Gap to P10?” he demands, his tone unusually biting. 

“7.3 seconds to Boo. But DRS is enabled—” 

“I can catch him,” Minghao decides on his engineer’s behalf. 

Nobody doubts it, really. 

Minghao takes the next lap like a man possessed. Nailing apexes, brushing curbs, deploying battery in the perfect spots. Purple sector times flash on the screen; the crowd roars as he slices through the field like a scalpel.

Clean. Precise. Ruthless. 

Minghao pushes right past Alpine’s Seungkwan, who screeches into his own radio about this reckless man, trying to kill him with the way he faked to the outside. It doesn’t matter to Minghao. Not when he’s through. 

“P10, Hao,” his engineer says, relief bleeding into his voice. “Keep it up.” 

“Don’t—” Minghao cuts himself off. Everybody can more or less guess what he was about to say. Don’t tell me what to do, he had planned to snap, and it only drives the team into a deeper state of confusion. 

It’s even worse in the press room. 

Minghao sits in the middle, flanked by Aston Martin’s Seokmin and Red Bull’s Jihoon. Minghao’s Mercedes suit is still speckled with sweat, and his jaw is tight, hands clasped in front of him on the table.

The moderator introduces them. “We’ll start with questions for the drivers. First, to Mercedes’ Xu Minghao. P9 after serving a 10-second penalty. Can you walk us through your race?” 

A muscle in Minghao’s jaw ticks. Not a good sign.

Minghao leans into the microphone and very simply states, “It was bullshit.” 

Again, that stunned silence. Seokmin balks like he had been physically struck. Jihoon fights back a grin. 

The moderator blinks. “Uh,” she stammers. “Could you elaborate on that?” 

“The penalty,” Minghao says plainly. “It was bullshit. I’ve seen the footage. I stayed within track limits. And even if I hadn’t, we both know there were other drivers exceeding limits all race who didn’t get penalized.” 

A reporter from BBC Radio pipes up. “You’ve been known for keeping a cool head in difficult situations, but we heard your radio messages. Do you regret your reaction?” 

The question draws a humorless laugh from Minghao. Today, his wit is razor-like in its sharpness. The claws are out, so to speak, as Minghao answers the query. 

“Regret? No. I regret not pushing harder after the penalty. I lost ten seconds and still clawed my way back to points.” He pauses, letting the fact sink in. “What does that tell you?”

Somebody from Fox Sports pushes the envelope. “Are you implying bias in the stewarding?” the journalist calls out. 

Minghao’s eyes flash, making even the most fearless of the media personnel shrink back a bit. 

“I’m saying there needs to be consistency,” he hisses. “That’s all.” 

Mercedes’ PR manager shifts uncomfortably in the background; one can assume they’re already drafting damage control statements in their head. The list of people to apologize to only grows when a ballsy ESPN journo dares to ask, “Do you think this will affect your relationship with the FIA?” 

There’s no reason for the FIA— the Formula One’s governing body— to be dragged into this. Or maybe there is, with the way Minghao is crashing out in public. 

The racer smiles coldly. “Maybe,” he answers, “but I’m not here to make friends.” 

“Okay,” the moderator interjects. “I think it’s time for us to move on—” 

Minghao concedes, leaning back into his chair and pushing the microphone over to Jihoon. There’s the slightest of miscalculations, though, when Minghao grumbles something to the Red Bull driver.

The microphone catches Minghao’s snide side comment, supposedly meant solely for Jihoon’s ears. “You should ask the FIA why they’re so scared of drivers who fight back,” the Chinese driver huffs. 

The room explodes. Minghao doesn’t flinch. 

Mercedes’ PR manager accepts that it’s going to be a long, long night. 

Even Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for his co-driver’s uncharacteristic behavior. The driver frowns when the team principal brings it up. 

Wonwoo runs a hand through his dark, sweat-slicked hair, as if reviewing what he witnessed pre- and post-race. “Hao was already a bit… off when he came in this morning,” Wonwoo admits. “Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something.” 

“Drivers like Minghao don’t just wake up one morning and decide they’re going to be the devil reincarnated,” the team principal says tentatively. 

Wonwoo takes a moment to contemplate. “Trouble in paradise, maybe?” 

“Drivers like Minghao—” 

“Don’t let their personal lives affect their racing,” Wonwoo finishes before waving his hand dismissively. “Well, I don’t know, then.” 

Except— for once— Wonwoo is right. 

The team doesn't press Minghao to celebrate, not when he’s a walking PR disaster in a foul mood. He heads straight back to his apartment, shedding all his rage on the way home. 

It’s the only reason he manages to gently open the front door. He toes off his shoes at the doorway and shrugs off his hoodie, each action deliberate in its intent and slowness.

He finds you in the kitchen.

You’re seated at one of the bar stools, forearms leaning against the island. Minghao doesn’t come close. Not at first. He lingers a couple of steps away, stock still as the two of you lock gazes. 

You open your mouth. Minghao beats you to the punch line. 

“I know,” he says, his voice the most gentle it’s been the entire day. “Trust me, I know.” 

“I wasn’t going to tell you off.” 

Minghao lets out a derisive snort of laughter, though he’s quick to look chastised when he catches the shift in your expression. “Alright,” he says tiredly. “What were you going to say, then?” 

You hop off the stool. Minghao holds his breath. 

He still feels like he isn’t breathing by the time you’re standing right in front of him. Where others might hesitate, you don’t. 

Your hand reaches up to cup Minghao’s face. Your palm is warm against his cheek, but your words are much warmer. 

“I was going to apologize,” you say slowly, enunciating each word, “for breaking rule number three.” 

Rule number three. To have it brought up now is comedic. Minghao thinks of the restaurant tissue framed in the living room, the one bearing the silly list the two of you had jotted down when you first started dating. 

The very rule you’re referring to right now had been in Minghao’s loopy handwriting, underlined twice to emphasize its importance. 

#3: No fights on race weekends. 

It had come with an asterisk, a couple of caveats. Still, it was one of those ‘rules’ the two of you tried to see through the most. For not only Minghao’s sanity, but Mercedes’ as well. 

Minghao sighs, the tension in his shoulders easing with the heavy exhale. He can’t help it; his cheek nuzzles into your palm, seeking the familiarity of your touch after being without it last night. 

(That was his choice, admittedly, after he opted to sleep in the guest room instead of your shared bedroom. He left in the morning without all of his usual routines— his 30-minute guided meditation, his good luck kiss from you.) 

The fight— God, what was the fight even about? Minghao is embarrassed to admit he can barely remember. 

By the way you’re looking at him, though, it looks like you’re also ready to put it past the two of you. 

“Did you watch?” he asks. 

The corners of your lips twitch upward. “What’s the right answer?” you shoot back, half-teasing as Minghao’s arms gingerly wrap around your waist. 

“I think I’d prefer that you say ‘no’,” he says wryly. “I was a monster out there. I’ve got so many people to apologize to.” 

You give a low hum of approval. Minghao tugs you into his space until he can bury his face in the top of your head.

For a moment, the two of you bask in the aftermath. The bittersweet race, the shaky reconciliation. Minghao breaks the silence. 

“I said fuck,” he mumbles, horrified, “on the radio.” 

“You did,” you confirm. “Twice, actually.” 

Minghao groans. “And at the press conference—” 

“You told the FIA they could take it up their a—” 

“I did not,” your boyfriend says shrilly, “say that!” 

You break out into giggles. Minghao can’t help it; his arms tighten around you, and he holds you like he’s trying to erase the past 24 hours through touch alone. 

Tomorrow, Minghao will be back to his usual self. He’ll play the PR game— waxing poetics about mental pressure, apologizing to the FIA for his conduct. He’ll pay the fines and promise to do better, be better. 

Tonight, Minghao softens all his edges and loves you. 

[sunderandsunflowers]

Having a group of comedians as your current hyperfixation should be great! Instant dopamine ×4 anytime you need it! And yes, I regularly laugh so hard I get tears in my eyes while watching their videos, but unfortunately I, and half of the rest of the fandom like ✨️angst✨️ (I might be projecting onto Amanda. Just a little. Fan content is enabling me)

[stxrrnightjxr]

Autistic Regulus, whom I hold so near and dear to my heart, they can never take you away from me. 😔

As an autistic person, (who gets probably way to hyperfixated on certain characters) these are my HC’s:

- He was diagnosed late. Like, REALLY late. Canon compliance, he wasn’t at all, and in some modern AU it was probably late into his twenties, maybe early-to-mid-thirties, and after he was out of his parent’s hold. Because Walburga and Orion could never accept that there was something wrong with their daughter, son (because I live for trans Reggie) so why should they ever enable anyone to believe that he was ‘mental’? Or ‘slow’? No, a Black child wasn’t those things. (OOC; Just for reference, autistic people are not, nor do I think they are, mental, crazy, slow, or any of those things. I am autistic myself, and have many friends who are, and know that is not the case 💚)

This also leads to a lot of trauma for Regulus, and a lot of repressed emotions. He learned how to mask very quickly, and very well.

- he’s sensitive to bright lights (which his light blue/gray eyes do not help with), and so he squints his eyes a lot. Barty once told him he looked like he was scrutinizing his face, and Regulus simply said ‘I am, it’s ugly.’ (He doesn’t believe that, but he’s not going to tell you that.) (I love sneaking in unrelated Bartylus)

- along with bright lights, he’s sensitive to loud noises. That was hard for him when he would have to listen to, or endure, his parents screaming. When they’d scream at Sirius, Regulus would hide up in his room, in the closet, with his hands over his ears, hoping nobody called for him. When he was the one being screamed at, he’d just zone out and hope they would just go away.

- he used to be that he couldn’t bear to hold eye contact, like it physically hurt him; but his parents beat it into him that it was disrespectful, so now he’s ended up being that guy who will just dead-stare into someone’s eyes if they’re talking to him. It often unsettles them, and makes Regulus out to be some ‘weird, creepy kid.’ (Regulus was originally confused by this; wasn’t he doing it right? Do you look at their eyes or no?)

- his voice is very monotone. He was often able to get away with this, because it sounded much like his father’s. (Orion had a number of peculiar habits, and quirks. No one talked about it.)

- intimacy (even friendly touch, like hand-holding, hugging) is difficult for him. Regulus does not hug, he does not hold people’s hands. (Unless it was Sirius’, because Sirius was the one who’d hold his hand when he was melting down every other night. Sirius’ hand feels too familiar to hurt, like most others’ do.) he’s only comfortable with touch once he REALLY gets to know a person, and even then, there’s still strict no-no’s. (No touching his hair, his neck, his wrists, his legs, his feet, his stomach, (basically nothing below his waist) )- in retrospect, not much. (Those rules had more leeway with Barty, he supposed.)

- he HATES certain sounds. Cannot stand chewing, cannot stand repetitive sounds (even though he occasionally makes those, only when he’s alone), sounds of bugs, cannot stand certain textures, too- velvet, for one (formal events were nightmares, for that, and many other reasons), microfiber, and certain denims.

- he loves the water. It’s very calming, has a nice sound, has a nice texture. He listens to thunderstorm/rain sounds to go to sleep to, (because another thing is he cannot tolerate silence.)

Again, this may be me way too much projecting, but I really don’t care 🫶

[unluckycactus]

I have been entertaining the concept of writing a TCF x ORV crossover for a few days, and a comment I got not so long ago is kinda enabling me.

... of course, it'd be Heniroksoo centric because he's my biggest fanfiction hyperfixation.

But also, because he'd be so fun to read in the ORV setting.

I'm cackling thinking of this guy wrecking the plot, without even knowing there's a plot; chaebol-ing his way through the apocalypse, rage-baiting Yoo Joonghyuk's constipated ass, and making Uriel and Jihye's shipper asses despair for fun.

Heniroksoo: oh? so you don't want Kim Dokja? Does that mean he's up for grabs?

KDJ: ... why are you like this? << can't handle being flirted on by a super hot man

[love-minor-poltergeist]

A/N: Back on my bullshit after a long-ass hiatus! I ended up getting too eager to share this since I'm returning a to a hyperfixation, so please enjoy this surprise in the meantime!

Outlast Trials has wiggled it's place back into my brain, and since poor Gooseberry was left out of my general Prime Asset Hcs a while back, I decided to make her my muse for the occasion! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

!Content Warning!: Mentions of drug abuse and verbal abuse from Dr. Futterman, general Outlast-level violence!

"Don't you worry, Mother has her ways!"

General Mother Gooseberry Headcanons:

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Though it has been a great sum of years since Phyllis had practiced the occupation, Dr. Futterman’s passion for dental hygiene had followed her well into adulthood. Her skin may be torn and scarred beyond repair, her mind broken and scattered, but you won’t find better teeth anywhere else in Sinyala. 

Amidst the broken doll parts, forgotten books and their dog-eared pages, and Futterland memorabilia within her cell, many guards have noted the various oral products she has sitting on her sink:

Three boxes of dental floss (because what if she finishes one up, or like Dr. Daddy says “her stupid, klutzy self loses it after he bought a perfectly good box just a day ago”), a bottle of mouthwash with another safely stashed away in her bedside table (Dr. Daddy always did love his liquor. And since he doesn’t have access to Gin, he had to go with the next best thing), an oral irrigator (for those nasty little bits of food that loved to hide from mother), and a steady supply of toothbrushes. 

It was also worth noting that a few guards have caught the occasional porcelain jar full of sugar, so to speak, on her dresser within her cell during instances where they needed to sedate and escort her into trials. She developed quite the cocaine habit before Sinyala; especially during her time as the hostess to Futterland. Between the stress of stardom, the letters and phone calls she made to Daddy, and the constant need to make sure that the children are happy– it’s no wonder that she needed a little pick-me-up just to get through the day. The habit followed her until the day of her arrest. While Murkoff is willing to enable her cravings, they severely limit her intake. 

Of course, she never takes it orally. It’s bad for teeth, after all.

Children loved seeing Phyllis during their visits (even if most of them hated the dentist). The younger patients in particular loved it when she brought out her puppets– some of them even begging to see them even when they weren’t due for surgery. She received many drawings and hand-woven friendship bracelets as gifts, and treasured every single one of them. 

Though they never actually practiced the faith, nor was religion well-liked in the house, Phyllis and Dr. Futterman are Jewish. Dr. Futterman wasn’t exactly the kind of man to attend Synagogues often and the only Torah present in the household rested in her father’s personal desk. They at least got latkes and kugel from the bakery and made brisket and knishes for Hanukkah (Phyllis was in charge of handling them if her father wasn’t in the mood for it– which was often). 

Poor dear struggled with weight problems since she was little. It had felt like no matter what she did, her body stubbornly held onto the extra fat of her stomach and thighs, and it didn’t help that her father was quick to attack her appearance whenever he was angry (or just in general). It wasn’t until she briefly left her childhood home, away from daddy, to focus on Futterland that she managed to slim down dramatically. Granted, a lot of it stemmed from her drug abuse and skipping meals. It was only after she had lost her father that she rapidly gained it all the back. 

Fell in love with taxidermy thanks to an unconventional gift from a patient of her father’s: a perfectly preserved dove. It was a small, unassuming little thing, and yet Phyllis couldn’t help but marvel at the craftsmanship. There wasn’t a single feather or stray lump to be found, the pure white of its plumage a stark contrast to the grey and peeling wallpaper of their home. Had she not known, she would have thought that it was alive and still with them.. 

This fascination may or may not have led to little Phyllis experimenting with any of the poor strays or birds that died nearby– carefully utilizing a little sewing kit she had underneath her bed to stitch together any loose flesh and marbles to replace rotting, gelatinous eyes.

If she wasn’t at the office helping her father or at school, Phyllis was usually left alone at home to her own devices. Though she didn’t have the luxury of a break. She was expected to do the cooking, cleaning, and repair their clothes. Once Dr. Futterman was home, Phyllis then had to tend to his needs; usually by fixing him a glass of gin and massaging his sore feet and shoulders. It always left her tired, but the moment Dr. Daddy gave her a gruff, mutter of “Good girl, Phyllis” she was over the moon. 

Gooseberry had Murkoff commission a little doll’s bed for her Dr. Futterman puppet. She even sewed him a special little nightcap to match the sleeping gown she made!

Never really had gotten the chance to try any candy since it was forbidden in the house, but she would’ve loved turtle candies or Queen Anne Cordial Cherries. I could also see her being quite charmed by Australian Frog Cakes!

Gooseberry often has to…borrow new faces to replace the decaying mask she wears. Any unlucky reagent that’s been chosen either ends up dead or joining the ranks of the ex-population. She’s as happy as a clam, on the other hand. It’s not all uncommon to see Gooseberry celebrating the occasion with facials and massaging cold cream into her new skin.

╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝

[steddiesmuttyseptember]

WEEK FOUR MASTERLIST

FICS

You and me makes three by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated E | no cw | tags: Omegaverse; A/B/O dynamics; Alpha Steve; Omega Eddie; Mates; Mpreg; Pregnancy Kink; Breeding Kink; Vibrators; Knotting; Possessive Steve; Jealous Steve

Boba by @dame-zoom-a-lot | Rated E | no cw | tags: Breeding kink if you squint, Soft Dom Eddie Munson, Brat Steve Harrington, Brat Enabler Eddie Munson, Weird Biology, Human/Monster Romance, Monster Eddie Munson, Monsterfucker Steve Harrington, Getting Slapped with a Dildo

Born to Run by @tinytalkingtina | Rated E | no cw | tags: Role reversal no upside down AU with some canon divergence, Jock/Track Star!Eddie, Metalhead/drug dealer!Steve, appalachian Eddie, confident bisexual Steve, Eddie has a sexuality crisis but is in denial, Eddie's sleeping mind decides to take matters into its own hands, wet dream (contains spanking and public humiliation), running of both the literal and metaphorical kind, child abuse referenced indirectly (physical beatings that happened in the past)

If You Love Me Right, Then Who Knows? by @fkinkindagauche | Rated E | cw: BDSM themes | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, Dom Steve Harrington, face slapping, hair pulling, breeding kink, deep throating, anal sex

try again later by @steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | no cw | tags: Established Relationship, Rock Star Eddie Munson, Dom/sub, Mean Dom Eddie Munson, Sub Steve Harrington, Vibrators, Breeding Kink, Steve Harrington Has a Breeding Kink, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Loud Sex, Face Slapping, Cock Slapping, Orgasm Control, Anal Sex, Anal Plug, Coming Untouched

honeysuckle by @hawkinsbnbg | Rated E | cw: slapping, cock and ball torture (kinda) | tags: Daddy Dom Eddie Munson, Mean Dom Eddie Munson, Trans Eddie Munson, Genderfluid Eddie Munson, Lingerie, Rough Sex, Sneaking Around, Brat Steve Harrington, Good Boy Steve Harrington, Boot Worship, Cock & Ball Torture, mentioned - Freeform, cumming in pants, Boot Humping, Name Calling, Subspace, Domspace, Strip Tease, Bondage, one pump chump Steve Harrington, Cunnilingus, Come Eating, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fisting, Spit Kink, Nipple Play, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Orgasm Denial, Face Slapping, Aftercare, Steddie Smutty September (Stranger Things), Sub Steve Harrington

Any way you want it by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated E | no cw | tags: Nudity; Light BDSM; Blindfolds; Sensory play; Slapping; Dirty talk; Top Eddie; Bottom Steve

Like a good neighbor by @steddie-island | Rated E | no cw | tags: Accidental voyeurism, exhibitionism

Pledge by @thisapplepielife | Rated E | cw: Recreational weed use | tags: AU, Established Relationship, Frat Steve, Shotgunning, Anal Sex, Light Breeding Kink, Role Playing

slipped between these ribs of mine - chapter 4 by @thefreakandthehair | Rated E | no cw | tags: top/bottom vers eddie munson, top/bottom vers steve harrington, spit as lube, anal sex, couch sex

Thunderous Evenings by @griefabyss69 | Rated E | cw: see ao3 notes | tags: established relationship, anal sex, anal fingering, love, making out, condoms, face slapping

Exactly what I've been yearning for by @miss-bushido | Rated E | no cw | tags: spanking, dom eddie, sub steve, anal sex, rimming, established relationship

ART

Breeding kink & Loud by @saku-rhyth | Rated M | explicit link available

[nights-at-crystarium]

You know what, I assume that people always read my pinned, or notice the pointer "new reader? start here" in every new Fragments' episode. I might be deluding myself. So hi hello lemme TALK ABOUT MY COMIC.

Before I get too rambly (and I mean RAMBLY), here's a quick intro. Fragments is a comic focused on feels and slice of life, made by a queer guy, aiming to ~character study~ the main cast (Vivi, Raha, Alisaie, Feo Ul) and fill in the gaps in canon (or linger in canon moments that needed more air imo), the tone ranging from angst to fluff to meme. Good punches require a good windup, so please don't expect angst anytime soon :3c

The story's segmented (fragmented, heh) into episodes. Episodes 1-11 take place in ARR, you can enjoy them with no worry about spoilers. Episode 12 onward is ShB, with all the spoilers and lorebending.

My storytelling style assumes you haven't only played through ShB, but know it like the back of your hand, i.e. it's for nerds and thinkers. Of course there's plenty of silly moments that don't require any deep knowledge, but the overarching story does. Often I skip canon events, only hinting that they took place, simply because I don't wanna retell the msq 1:1, I've got plenty of original scenes waiting to be drawn. You're in for a treat if you like obsessing over emotional and moral implications of things. And, yes, this's a story about a morally grey mc. Don't expect to be spoon-fed "and this's why that thing's bad, kids".

Currently I've outlined all the main story beats up until post EW, so it's like, not being winged as I go. Yes I refine things here and there, but I know where I'm going. I'm going ham!!!! With the lorebending post ShB. Initially I didn't plan to, but the more I learned about Vivi and personally grew as a writer, the more courage I got to "divorce" from canon. The general xiv story may still be good wherever it's headed, but it's not suited for an established wolgraha, so I'm making food for myself.

Everyone imagines the lil scenes from their wol's life, I'm taking that a tiiiiiny step further. Fragments tells a cohesive story that's looking to be the longest project at least in our corner. I can and will hyperfixate on this for years.

I started out just like many others, being hit with ShB like a truck, I wanted to put a catboy under a microscope and rotate him forever. Although I'd already been drawing for decades, I didn't have the comic-making skills yet, or eloquence to write the dialogue, so I spent the first half of 2022 self-studying, just because I needed a mouth to be able to scream about my ship.

Vivi didn't exist prior to my obsession with Exarch. He was made for this, he started out as a reagent (or a foil, now that I know fancy writing terms) for a rich and fun chemistry, and keep myself entertained for years, first and foremost.

Me, a fool: okay let's make a guy that falls in love with Exarch in this particular moment, what kinda life must he have led to- Me: ....oh no

The chemistry quickly bubbled up and exploded in my face, involving not only Exarch, but other characters (first as a means to subtly tell about Vivi, then they also demanded their own screentime), and here I am, sitting with a massive script on my hands, drawing my blorbos every day. Thanks for enabling that btw.

I care about characters a lot. I ask a lot of whys and hows. I'm critical-minded and burned on many bad stories that did their characters dirty, and I wanna be an opposing example. What I'm doing is extremely ambitious and risky, yes, but I can only invite you to tag along and see if I stick to my word.

The internet's a cruel and unforgiving place nowadays, and here I am, pitting my passion against what feels like decaying humanity. I'm making this comic to keep myself happy above all else, being sincere and cringe because life's too short to be anything else.

Thanks for reading this, and if you haven't yet, read Fragments here!

[sky-byte2007]

More shark facts for my Sky-Byte headcanons!

They’re mostly just add-ons from my previous post though :3

So an add on for when I talked about shark vision is that high contrast colours are what attracts them the most. More specifically (according to the NOAA or the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) yellow, white, and silver seem to be the colours that attract sharks the most. Now I find this super adorable for Sky-Byte because Jetfire’s colour scheme literally matches that description.

Also side note but I feel like Sky-Byte would love anything colourful in general, and he would own it. I mean I did headcanon him to be an artist lol.

Speaking of senses, sharks also have a lateral line which is present in lots of fish species. This specialised organ helps detect movement around them which is why schools of fish are able to move around seamlessly without running into each other :D!!!

Sharks also have a network of electrosensory organs known as the ampullae of Lorenzini (named after Italian physicist and ichthyologist, Stefano Lorenzini who described them in 1679) that enable them to detect weak electric fields of nearby animals/prey. Essentially they’re mucus filled pores that look like little black dots around their facial area. Sky-Byte would essentially be overpowered.

Very random but why am I imagining him with like small black freckles on his face 😭?

Another thing I kinda forgot to mention was the sensitive areas of a shark. If any of you ever saw notices or videos on how to drive a shark away, then you would know that a shark’s weak points are their eyes, snout and gills since they’re what render a shark vulnerable. Basically punching Sky-Byte in the face would really hurt him (poor baby 🥺).

Silly Great White shark fact! Because of how incredibly curious they are, they often partake in a behaviour known as spy hopping. Spy hopping is when the shark pokes their head out of the water to see what’s going on up above. They are also known to breach, or jump out of the water, at a height of 10 ft or 3.048 m!

My shark hyperfixation is about to explode. I’ve been ill for almost a week now, and they’re all I can think about 😭. Send help (and sharks).

[lingrimmart]

L: Hyperfixes always touch some weird little string in your soul and just yoink - and suddenly you're sitting there like "wtf… was that always in me??" It feels so natural.

I invest so much of myself into this thing. Time, thoughts, feelings, little fragments of my spine. But it pays off - especially when I get to admire the art and writing of others. And especially my partner's. She’s also in the trench with me, co-piloting the madness and enabling every crime. I'm just sitting there like "wow I want to tape her every art to my face."

I'm so obsessed I've become efficient. Like, disturbingly productive. I'm doing work at double speed. I'm working on TCoL like it's l not a vast metaphysical epic I've poured my soul into.

Of course, on the other side of this little rollercoaster is the clinical concern. I'm watching myself like "is this just joy? Or is this the early jazz hands of hypomania?"

Like babe... don't crash. We just got here. We just started having fun. We're on the meds. Let's keep it cute.

Yes, I've sacrificed sleep. Yes, I've forgotten to respond to messages. But I am literally so powerful right now. Let me have this.

[mymanyfandomramblings]

Mabel's perspective in Sock Opera is equally, if not more sympathetic than Dipper's: An Essay

Most people generally wouldn't consider Mabel to have a terribly sympathetic plotline in Sock Opera, even those of us who don't necessarily feel that she's horribly selfish. I think that's because, from a narrative perspective, her plotline is (as it so often is) shafted in favour of Dipper's, and from a viewer's perspective, Dipper's makes more sense. We, as viewers want to know who the author is. We, as viewers, know that Gabe is inevitably going to turn out to be some variety of impossible, and we know that the Author of the Journals is a major mystery. However, from Mabel's perspective, none of this is true, because she doesn't have the luxury of knowing she is in a TV show. Even if you take out Gabe, her perspective still makes perfect sense.

At the beginning of summer, Dipper found this journal, and Mabel has generally been pretty happy to go along with his adventures as the journal has led them, but it's clear she doesn't have the same degree of fascination with it. Maybe she may have been a little intrigued by who the Author is, she's probably a bit curious, but not to the same extent. By the time of Sock Opera, she's probably reasonably ready for the Journal fixation to be over, considering that they nearly all got killed by a shapeshifter trying to find the author. She knows that trying to investigate the author is dangerous--Stan warned them away from the supernatural, they've all nearly died multiple times, but Dipper cannot be stopped. And now Dipper has decided to spend hours and hours and hours, forgoing sleep, sitting in front of a screen, typing in passwords. The fact that Mabel tries to drag him away from it is a good thing--anyone with a relative who spends excessive amounts of time in front of a computer can tell you that. Generally, having someone close to you become deeply fixated to the point of obsession with anything can be challenging, however in Mabel's case, Dipper has become obsessed to the point of prioritising getting into the laptop above anything, and this isn't just a regular hyperfixation: this is a hyperfixation that has nearly gotten them both (plus their loved ones) nearly killed multiple times in the last few weeks. It's absolutely the responsible, good thing for Mabel to do to not enable that behaviour.

And then if you add the puppet show back into the equation, then yes, it is kind of ridiculous of Mabel to put on a whole show of that kind of magnitude just for a boy (regardless of whether the boy deserves it), however, as viewers we must accept that this is, in fact, thoroughly within character for Mabel, who is kind of ridiculous. Any kind of production of that size is a huge commitment, especially if you've given yourself a week to work, and I'm not remotely bothered by the fact that Mabel has to get everyone involved on this. And to Mabel's credit, she does try to help Dipper as soon as he appears to her in puppet form, she just isn't immediately willing to stop the show. Back in high school, my drama class did a play that I mostly wrote, mostly managed and also had a small acting role in (yes, I was an overachiever in drama), and let me tell you, it would have taken a lot to have gotten me to call off the show halfway through, much less publicly sabotage it. A demon threatening the lives of one of my siblings? Probably yes. That probably would have done it. And Mabel does allow the thing that she poured blood, sweat and tears into to go literally up in flames in front of everyone, once she realises that's what she has to do (and personally, I don't think that there's anything wrong with not immediately being willing to drop everything for this. It's not like Dipper doesn't dig in his heels about doing what's best until the very last possible second). I don't know why people insist it's not 'technically a sacrifice', because while, yes, obviously Dipper's life was more important, and she 100% made the right choice, it's not easy to wreck something you worked hard on in front of people.

All this is to say that although it's easy to become irritated at Mabel during this episode because she's hindering Dipper's ability to figure out who the author is, it's also very easy not to realise that she has a thoroughly reasonable perspective, simply because the narrative puts greater emphasis and attention of Dipper's perspective.

[imagineakatsuki]

Kisame friend headcanons? (He’s one of my hyperfixation characters, i love sharks)

Or Deidara

Kisame:

A super great friend to have. He’s mature, but also playful. Expect a lot of good-natured ribbing, especially if you’re short/tiny.

Worships loyalty and trust as the tenets of a true friendship. If you ever lie or betray him, and he finds out, your friendship is over.

Many people like him for being a cool guy, so he has a lot of friends. However, his close circle of friends that he would regularly hang out with is actually very small.

Communication is extremely important. He’s a good observer, so he notices if there is something wrong with his friends. He won’t pester you to share, but he will let you know that he’s there (and he would appreciate being in-the-know because he could possibly help).

Definitely a beach bum and will frequently ask his friends to hang out there. He’s so chill, you would think he’s a stoner, but you would be wrong. He experiments for fun sometimes, but he doesn’t really have any vices (you couldn’t even count it as casual). He acts as the good role model and impulse control of his friend group.

Deidara:

The type of friend that will 100% drag you into their bullshit and get you in trouble.

Always good conversation when he’s around. He can carry a conversation by himself, so if he’s with other friends who are also yappers (*cough* Hidan *cough*), they could be at it forever.

Being his friend will probably force you out of your comfort zone because he’s quite daring and adventurous, but his friends usually end up appreciating the experience of whatever he ends up making them do with him.

Not the best listener, but still the friend that you go to if you want to rant. That’s because he will always be on your side (even if you’re wrong), hype you up, and enable you.

Will not draw you like one of his French girls, but will ask you to sneak into restricted-access chemistry labs to help him make his dream explosive.

Admin S

[pistachiozombie]

I don't know if anyone else has felt this way to this extent, but Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Tolkien, and even Bofur in general, have definitely changed my life and only made things better. I love my other hyperfixations too, but this one is hugely different and stands out from the rest. I may moan about the 'half of the fandom' that may not like my OC, or the hundreds of Bofur/Leanna content I have posted since 2019... but the greatness that came from it outshines the haters.

Not only have my mom and I bonded stronger with my love for all things Tolkien, but because I shared with her my embarrassing love for Bofur, we have made a story, which inspired her to finally make an OC - which then inspired my dad to make an OC - and he doesn't even go on the internet! Not to mention she prefers strictly staying with the lore, so adding Leanna, Estilil, Sven and my beorn dad, was surprising!

I have drawn them so many times i have gotten comfortable with drawing unique face structures and natural wrinkles, hands, poses, expressions, because i want to match the love that emits from the films.

I have met some wonderful friends and followers that have definitely enabled and pushed the love even further and motivated me to keep posting. I didn't get as much hate as I first expected to ship an oc as hard as I do with a canon character. Granted I did get some anon hate through the years that hurt, but what can you do. The inspiration I give fellow OC creators gives me a nice boost!!

Anyways, like I said, I know I bitch about the hater side of the fandom, but nobody wants to be hated for doing something they love. In the end, it was all a positive experience. I hope some of you have felt something similar too.