#when will the jackass hyperfixation end

[dangerehrensretainer]

Being one of the few active jackass blogs in 2025 is so insane of me but I’m holding out hope that if I post just enough they will all come back and we will all hyperfixate on jackass together like one big happy family

[drifloonz]

steven/mocha is canon

[abusivegymrat]

i know i promised y'all some freaky soap smut but this one ended up being finished earlier haha

this is kyle garrick being a huge jackass

writing angst was probably too big of a bite for me since my shitty skills are still in progress but anyyywayyy so might edit this a couple years later idkk

i kept fussing over how it was so short then said fuck it rambled some shit to finish it and posting it rn so as u can tell i got a bit lazy at the end

last part not proofread obv

inspired by brent faiyaz’s skits/wasteland album = wake up call

wc is about 2.4k

warnings: cursing, attempted suicide, mentions of death, pregnancy, kyle being an ignorant jackass

you could call it angst if i wrote it well enough

And thanks @goatgoesmbe for injecting itching thoughts of toxic gaz into my brain that chased me and my hyperfixation around so i could finally finish this one

dk if this is what u wanted to this shit is downright terrible tehee

It’s been weighing down on you heavily like a wet cardigan you can’t shake away, your heart thumps with worry– what will he say? How will he react? Do you even care at this point? Your chest clenches, conceiving a double-layered barbed wire around your throat. The gaze of the gods above you watching you squirm only tightens it, and you’re left genuinely feeling like you can’t breathe.

From the moment you collapsed onto your knees after finding your own diary from when you were just a child, lying beneath layers of dust between old cardboard boxes, you clutched your past thoughts, hopes and dreams to your chest and fell asleep like that. He didn’t care, didn’t carry you and tuck you into your bed like he used to. You had it all, and an astonishing career. You threw it all away for his dreams of a family of his own, driven by your love for him, you never said no.

But he sits in front of you, eating calmly. His demeanor is a huge contrast to the hurricane of emotions rupturing within you: yet he’s the only one who’s unaware of the consequences of his actions, ironically. His presence is huge, it makes the walls feel like they’re clamping down on you each time you breathe. All you can do is to either stand up for yourself or wait patiently to be crushed.

Every bite is stuck in your throat, your own cooking feels like poison, burning your tongue as it dissolves on it, your body shivers with cold sweat, and you just can’t take this anymore. There used to be a string that pulled you together your entire life, the same string that held you back from going up against him every single fucking time, the same damned string that is making you hunch in your seat and appear smaller, weaker. The same string that just snapped, right about now.

“What the fuck!?” You slam your fork on the table, water spilling and plates clattering with the force of it. He looks up at you from his dish with questioning eyes, uninterested.

“You know I’m not from the UK!” You cry from the top of your lungs, only for him to continue his cruel silence. He’s torturing you. “I have nobody to look after me in this shithole, I lack a support system during my fucking pregnancy and you said ‘don’t worry about it–”

your chest suddenly heaves with an emergency breath, hitching as your lips quiver. You close your eyes and push through the lump sitting in your throat. “and told me countless fairy tales about how you were the only love and support I needed. What the fuck happened to that?”

You want to sound mad, and you want to sound intimidating. But you can’t. Not when your voice is breaking and trembling like a train off its rails. There’s nothing left for you to do as you let your tears flow, staining your cheeks with the stamp of weakness and shame. You sob, but he doesn’t react, as still as a statue. A wall would give more reactions than him at the moment, you think.

“I feel very… alone… when you’re gone for months. And if you meant what you said, that should really fucking concern you!”

Kyle’s chewing slows down as he swallows, “it does–”

His chopped answer is enough to ignite a fire within you, you scream. “You told me you were happy about me having your first child, you’re sure as hell not acting like it!”

He stares at you for a moment, silenced, thinking. He never stops, he always shoots back, what happened now? Did you finally manage to get him to listen? Is your life about to change, did he understand your pain? Your chest is filled with hope–

Then, the whisper of his ringtone hits your ears, and he picks up his phone without thinking, without questioning, without letting you question it. Your lips part, mouth agape, eyes wide with a rush of bewilderment at his audacity. Your previous thoughts collapse on top of you like a failed sand castle, your knees buckle, your hands shoot towards the kitchen counter to keep your balance. You’re devastated. He doesn’t see it. He never does.

“Wow. You answer right back to every side bitch except the person carrying your child. Wow.” You huff in disbelief.

“Side bitch? Don’t be stupid, ‘s my lieutenant text’n me.” And your jaw is rolling in an instant, and you breathe through your nose, knuckles whitening at your attempts to hold back from slapping him across the face.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Your lieutenant officer is not more important than–”

“Stop being dramatic. I’ll just take this call and leave for the airport ‘cause I don’t wanna make you more upset.” He talks as if he’s soothing you, his voice is a calming timbre. He gets up and leaves.

He leaves.

For the last time.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Your hands tighten on your phone, your tears paint the screen as the October breeze sends shivers through you. The cold drains the life from your face, you wait helplessly for him to pick up for the last time. The city lights shimmer beautifully before you, in fact, everything is more beautiful tonight for some reason. You can’t help but think it’d be even better without you.

Your mind reels back to how you sucked the soul out of everyone around you, exploiting their emotions and pity for you, just so that they could fill the crater in your chest your husband had left. You wanted to feel better about yourself, because he never made you feel like you were worth it. Maybe this is what you deserve.

The lady sitting near you at the office, the salesman, the cashier, everyone you met, you ruined their day. Just the way Kyle ruined your life. You thought it was fair, they can lose a day for you, is that too much to ask for?

“Hello?” His words break the silence, and no matter how much you think you hate him, you could still fall asleep to that voice on your deathbed. You had loved him, you really did.It doesn’t matter now, though. Nothing really does now that you heard of the only person you had left.

You part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out. You fight it, the weighty chunk of emotions sizzling in your throat. You choke and whimper around it, but no proper sound is heard.

“I fucking hate you.” You croak with the last bits of strength, and pray to god for the first time in decades he doesn’t ask for a reason why. You’re too weak to respond, but he was always too curious to not press further. At first, you thought it was because he cared. Now? Eh, does it matter?

“I can’t do this anymore,” you quiver, voice as hoarse as the whining of a dead goose.

“What the fuck are you talking about? What’s going on, it’s three in the morning– where are you?”

“Shut up! Shut up and stop acting like you care!” Words aren’t enough to hold your sobs back, so you clamp a hand around your throat, not sure if you’re squeezing harder or trying to lose the contradictions in your throat, but you’re sure as hell clawing blood out of your chest. “You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me!”

You swallow back at your courage, breath shortening.

“Tell me where you’re at!”

“You won’t care anyway, I’ll fuck myself in the head here, and over once you’re done with your stupid fucking pampering! I don’t want you and I don’t want your comfort! I don’t want your pity, I don’t want your love!”

“All I ask of you is to leave me the fuck alone!” Your voice falters, you beg. But you’ve begged your whole life. You wouldn’t be here if it worked.

“You don’t realize how serious this is, sweetheart– you have a baby in you!”

“So it was never about me, then…”

“Wha– w– love! Just back the fuck down and we’ll talk face to face, we’ll talk about this in person– I promise you we’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t deserve to have this baby, Kyle.” You interrupt him, demolishing the only and single moment of empathy and positivity between the two of you.

“Fuck you mean I don’t deserve to have that baby?” The first time tonight, he springs back to his old ways, just when you thought it was getting better. He’s screaming at you over the phone.

“You’re a terrible husband and an awful father, We will always hate you for it.”

“That is not your call!”

“You will never see your daughter!” You scream,

“I’ve always felt depressed and alone before I met you.” The old times appear behind your closed eyelids and you smile, words softening with a tune of fortune all over again. “Then you came into my life. And into me, if that helps… And I felt happy for the first time ever… I trusted you with everything. My virginity, my child, my career, my life.”

“My world changed, I was filled with hope, and all the dreams I crushed for you were replaced with new ones… Felt like I suddenly unlocked all my potential, like I was entering heaven’s gate and you were the key.”

“But you just had to come and fuck it up, didnt’t you! All of it! Look at me! I’m alone again! All because of you!”

“And now that I have a piece of the devil himself in me, I swear to god I will find one way or another, to get this beast out of me…”

“Forever.”

“Baby, don’t do this, I know i fucked up seriously, give me a chance–! I’m almost there, hold on, please. Don’t hurt yourself or the baby–”

“No! You can’t always get what you want! Not this time!”

“Goodbye, Kyle.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Hey, Jess.” You smile into the phone. “How’s Delilah?”

“She’s doing good, tucked in nice and well…” she sighs.

“I’m really sorry, could’ve never predicted mere debriefing would take this long.”

“It’s okay, this is what I get paid for. Should I expect you at 1 am?”

“Yeah, sure, ‘round that time… I’ll call you if anything goes wrong?”

“Fine by me. Good evening.”

“Good evening, Jess.”

“Oh and, one more thing…” she pauses, “take care.”

“You too.”

You stuff your burner phone into the pocket of your green cargos, pacing through the halls of the base to help Kate with something related to her laptop, she said. You know she’ll bat her lashes for tea on your way back, so your intent is to go prepared.

You turn a corner to enter the kitchen, before your figure hits a wall. Huh? You remember the tea house being here? You look up to see a giant figure hulking above you, taking up all the space in the entrance, hell, base. “‘scuse me.” the man(?) mumbles and goes his way, leaving the gate empty for you to pass.

Since when is wearing masks around the base allowed? A lot must’ve occurred when you were gone, It’s a blessing you didn’t completely retire, otherwise re-enlisting would be even more arduous than it is, and jesus– they let anyone in the military these days, at least it looks like it to you as you eye every soldier you see. It seems your (in)famous death stare hasn’t faltered, because they seem to shrink for every second your eyes are on them.

You’re glad you got to keep and continue from your previous hard-earned rank, the thought of training with these rookies sent a shiver through your spine, starting over aside.

You knock on Laswell’s door and twist the knob without being called on, ready to get this over with without much bother.

“Alright, what seems to be the problem?”

However, you seem to have failed to notice a certain sergeant the way he noticed you, staring at you like he saw a ghost until he tensed.

“Can I help you?”

Laswell clears her throat, pulling your attention back to her. Right, sorry.

And before you know it, he’s apologizing to Laswell and pulling you out of the room, insisting that you need to “talk”, like he ever listened.

“Thought you were a cop.”

“I enlisted.”

“Why, miss me?”

He turns sharply, “where the fuck have you been?”

“I’m not gonna answer that.”

“The kid?”

“I’m not gonna answer that either. If you’re done, I’ll–”

“Get the fuck back here!” You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at his confidence.

“Excuse me?” You glare at him and tilt your head. “That’s my kid. You lost all rights to her the day you left me for dead.”

“I never left you for dead, ain’t my fault you tried to kill yourself.” He spits.

“Because of who, I wonder.”

“Look I’m sorry–”

“Look, I’m truly sorry for what I did and I will spend my entire life making it up to you even though I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I still see you as my wife and the mother of my child– well shove it up your ass because I already forgot about it. I know your empty apologies to heart.” You force a smile and smack his hand away from your wrist.

His eyes widen when you recite every single word he was about to utter. “So you forgive me?”

“Forgetting doesn’t mean forgiving, and I did it for my sake, not yours.”

“So you just… got used to it?”

“Pretty much.”

“What now?”

“Now, you will get out of my way so I can do my job by assisting my colleague.” You shove him away and stride back to Laswell’s door, he calls out to you when your hands touch the knob.

You normally wouldn’t do this, but you turn your head, curious about what different thing he has to say, or if he’ll say anything different at all.

“I’m sorry.”

You’d frown, or maybe put a pistol on his forehead. But you smile. His wording will never change, and his apologies will never end (as they should). But you have a feeling he, himself, will change.

“I’ll think about it.”

“One more thing…” he pauses, “I’m sorry you had to go through that, apart from what I did.”

“Tears dry on their own, Sergeant Garrick.”

[mutipede]

A funny thing is.

I never knew my dad - parents got divorced too early to have anything but the vaguest of memories. Then my mom told me my whole life he was abusive specifically towards me, but she subsequently made herself known to be an incredibly unreliable narrator and abusive + neglectful herself so I don't know what's true and what's not. I found out he died in I think 2018? And only found out because my mom happened to find an obituary a couple years after the fact.

I was in trade school in 2018, and I learned both welding and machining, although I ended up going with machining as a career I still FUCKIN' LOVED welding and maybe someday if/when I can afford a place with a garage or something, I want to try basically every other form of metalworking, like casting stuff and welding for sculptures and personal projects and stuff like that. TIG welding was so incredibly meditative. And I think trade school was the last time I remember feeling... like, belonging in a group of humans IRL.

The first semester there was one guy who was a jackass. If you picture going to trade school and you imagine the guy you would want to avoid encountering there you'd probably land on that guy. Grew up on a farm and therefore stick welded shit before and therefore thought he knew everything and wanted to be a big badass pipefitter and therefore it didn't matter if his welds were shitty.

When we were in 1st semester and just starting out learning how to weld in a straight line, the 3rd semester students had an assignment to make new quenching tanks for the whole shop. They made them with a valve to easily drain the water and refill them. He loosened the valve on one. Got water all over the floor in a shop involving electrical arc welding. Made the instructor think the 3rd semester student who had made that tank had leaky welds. Aaand they did the whole Full Metal Jacket "one guy does something, the whole class gets punished" and had us spend a full day cleaning the shop. Everyone except for a couple of guys who decided to play the toadies latching onto a bully game like holy fuck guys we are preparing for careers here are you 12? - Everyone else hated him.

And then he got kicked out of the school after threatening to fight a guy in the parking lot. And then everyone in the entire rest of the class had a great camaraderie time.

The instructor made us all little customized can coozies with either the nickname people had gotten over the course of the year, or a little catchphrase. There was a dude who made a custom tophat he wore every day and kept a deck of cards to do random magic tricks and got a coozie with "STEAMPUNK". I'm pretty sure I got through trade school entirely due to a hyperfixation on metalworking and people actually fucking... came to me with questions and I suggested things that helped them weld better. And the instructor got into the habit of saying something about metallurgy or something, and would ask ME "Is that right" and I'd either confirm or I SWEAR I kept noticing things wrong or missing on blueprints or he'd do some math wrong, and I'd actually explain it and I'd be right so mine's got my name and "IS THAT RIGHT?" and man, people... trusting that I am not an incompetent dumbass lol that felt really nice.

Anyways, my dad, who I never knew my entire life and died before I could meet him, was a welder.

[icannotgetoverbirds]

tell me about your fic on ao3- @rowans-blues

warning i am going to be talking in caps and this post may be very long

HI YES HELLO YOU CALLED TO ASK ABOUT MY BLORBOS???? YES YES RIGHT THIS WAY I HAVE MANY A FINE WARE TO SHOW YOU

EXHIBIT A:

JAY: BIRD BLORBO. HOMEMADE. AGED LIKE FINE WINE. SHAMELESS SELF-INSERT. potential mary sue BUT WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THAT. ULTIMATE FLOOF WHEN SPOOKED/EXCITED. CAN TURN INTO AN OWL. ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED THE LOCAL DOCTOR BEFORE EVEN LEARNING HIS NAME. FAT TRANS AND AN ABSOLUTE WET BEAST. WILL KILL ANYTHING THAT ATTACKS HIM AND CRY THE ENTIRE TIME.

EXHIBIT B:

DOCTOR HARVEY: HAUNTED AS FUCK. GREAT MUSTACHE. LOOKS LIKE BDG. THE UNCHARISMATIC BISEXUAL WET PAPER BAG OF A MAN. DID NOT SIGN UP FOR ANY OF THIS MAGICAL SHIT. IS TRYING HIS BEST AND TO HIS CREDIT HANDLING THINGS REMARKABLY WELL GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES. DOES NOT KNOW THAT HE'S MARRIED TO JAY. shhhhhh don't tell him anything. SERIOUSLY HE DID NOT ANYWHERE REMOTELY NEAR SIGN UP FOR ALL OF THIS SHIT WHERE IS THE INFORMED CONSENT PAPERWORK FOR LEARNING MAGIC IS REAL.

EXHIBIT C:

MONA SYLVIA JASPER: NOT A FEMME FATALE BUT CERTAINLY A FATAL TRANSFEM. ROCKING THAT WHITE HAIR AND ELDRITCH MAGIC. MENTORED ALONGSIDE JACKSON BY RASMODIUS HIMSELF. died a horrible death BUT THAT'S OKAY BECAUSE SHE CAME BACK TO TIE UP SOME LOOSE ENDS AND IS STILL HERE FOR ADVICE FROM TIME TO TIME.

EXHIBIT D:

JACKSON, ABIGAIL, SEBASTIAN, AND SAM, AKA THE JACKASS CREW. GOOFY GOOBERS WHO CAN ABSOLUTELY WRECK YOUR SHIT.

D1: JACKSON. BASED OFF OF MY IRL BESTIE WHO'S THE SINGLE MOST OUT OF POCKET FEMBOY I HAVE EVER KNOWN. LOCAL CHILD PICKS UP THE EQUIVALENT OF THE CORE OF A NEUTRON STAR WHICH THEN EMPTIES ITS CONTENTS INTO HIS SYSTEM - PROCEEDS TO BLOW A MASSIVE HOLE IN THE CLOUDS WITH A MASSIVE FUCKING ELDRITCH BLAST. LIVES TO TELL THE TALE, IS NOW EVEN MORE POWERFUL THAN WAS PREVIOUSLY POSSIBLE. IN POSSESSION OF SCHRÖDINGER'S GODHOOD.

D2: ABIGAIL. AROALLO POLYAMOROUS TRANSFEM. SKILLED WITH A SWORD AND EVENTUALLY GAINS THE ABILITY TO [SPOILER REDACTED]. We all know who the real father is AND SHE HAS TO FIND OUT EVENTUALLY.

D3: SEBASTIAN. LOCAL EMO WEED BUYER, USER OF ICE AND ELECTRICAL MAGIC. PART OF A LOVE TRIANGLE BUT DON'T WORRY WE TAKE THE POLYAMOROUS WAY OUT HERE. HAUNTED BY NIGHTMARES AND THE WAY THINGS COULD HAVE BEEN.

D4: SAM. LOCAL BUNDLE OF SUNSHINE WHO IS CONSTANTLY WORRYING ABOUT HIS BESTIES THAT HE'S ALSO IN LOVE WITH. EVENTUAL USER OF LIGHT AND ELECTRICAL MAGIC ONCE HE COMES AROUND TO IT. WILL MAKE OUT WITH [SPOILER REDACTED] TO PROVE A POINT.

AND THAT'S JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG, MY FRIEND. WE HAVE SO MANY OTHER BLORBOS FOR YOU TO SEE, AND A SECOND FIC ON THE BACKBURNER WITH A SIMILAR CAST OF CHARACTERS.

Small-Town Tales is my pet project. It's my baby and if anything happens to it i'll kill everyone in this room and then myself (reference). Jay is a barn owl avia (bird equivalent of a selkie) and arrives in town to the rudest greeting possible: getting mauled by wolves. After mauling the wolves back, he manages to fly his sopping wet bloodied self to the front door of the clinic before collapsing in the plaza, essentially on Doctor Harvey's front doorstep.

Cloak shenanigans ensue in the following chaos as Harvey saves Jay's life, bada bing bada boom you got an accidental marriage that nobody wanted. Jay manages to settle into Pelican town which, despite seeming like an idyllic little village, is actually a massive source of chaos for anyone living there. Other character arcs coming soon to a chapter near you.

Promise? Is my project on the back burners. Despite this, I love it just as much as STT - although it certainly won't end up anywhere near as long (pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease have mercy on me gods of writing and hyperfixations). Doctor Harvey finds himself down bad with hanahaki for the local aspiring author. Angst ensues - do not fear, for i am an absolute slut for the comfort part in hurt/comfort.

More details on both can be found on my sideblog, @gracklekeyer2000 , as well as my Ao3 account by the same name. All of my writing on Ao3 requires an account to view because of the muskrat's data scraping. However, The Incident is linked in the pinned post on my sideblog. It's not quite complete yet - there's meant to be a part 3 - but the most important, plot-relevant details coming from that piece have been ironed out in the first two parts.

[shojimezolovemail]

May I please request platonic hcs (jackass) where neurodivergent!reader loves to infodump about their special interest and gets really happy and stims? Thank you! :)

(My special interest is primates and last week I got to see a Wooly Monkey AND a Golden-Cheeked Gibbon irl for the very first time - it was awesome! ASKSHSJS)

thank you so much for this request! sorry it’s taken me so long to get to it :���)

warnings: none!

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE

johnny’s very supportive of anything you find interest in

you’re into primates? he’s amazed with the knowledge you have!

your hyperfixation is about something morbid? he’s dying to hear about it! (no pun intended)

he’s so impressed with how much you know and understand about these topics

johnny ends up passing on any information you give him to other people around him

which introduces more people asking you about your interests! how exciting

when you get super excited about a hyperfixation that you stim…johnny’s right there doing it with you

he’s an excitable person anyway so seeing you so happy just sets him off

STEVE-O

if you had an interest in animals in general, any information you share would be very beneficial during the filming of wildboyz

in fact, steve-o loves how your mind works so much that he essentially makes you apart of the wildboyz show to share facts and information

if anyone on the set tries to diminish anything you say, he’s on the defense immediately

“the fuck do you mean that my friend here doesn’t know what they’re talkin’ about?” “are you an all knowing god? no? exactly. let ‘em speak.”

if you get so excited to talk about something and you start stimming? he’s a little confused at first

“what’re you doing?” “oh, uh, i just got really excited. sorry.”

steve-o’s immediately assuring you that there’s no need to apologize

CHRIS PONTIUS

this other wildboy is immediately dragging you on any trio he takes for the show

he makes sure you’re as comfortable as possible don’t worry

you get nervous flying? he’s trying every remedy possible

chris lets you infodump at any moment in time by the way

he’s in the middle of a conversation with someone? he’s telling them to hold on so you can tel talk to him

he loves seeing you happily ramble and he’d hate to ever shoot that down

you have a specific interest in an animal? he’s buying you a plush of it anytime he sees one available

he’ll also always stim with you as well

he’s jumping and bouncing around with you

BAM MARGERA

this man basically has a hyperfix on HIM so he’s more than happy to embrace your interests

you could pour out the same information every time you spoke about it and he’d still be fascinated

even if it was something he’s not particularly interested in, he’s always very happy to hear you ramble

bam’s not very good at showing it though so there might be a need for some reassurance

if you ever get so excited that you stim, he probably won’t join in but more likely encourage it

he thinks it’s cute and will never stop you from it, no matter the place

you get excited to see an animal you enjoy out and about so you stim? incredible!

now, if someone says anything offhanded then he’s immediately on the defense

“the fuck is your problem? cant deal with a little excitement you fucking weirdo.”

then he’s being extra sweet to you so you know his change in temper wasn’t directed toward you

RYAN DUNN

ryan doesn’t quite understand the hyperfixation/special interest aspect but he’s supportive as long as you’re happy and safe

he’ll let you ramble as much as you’d like though

he loves seeing you happy

ryan will definitely engage with a lot of what you talk about too

“so… your favorite animal is really capable of all that? that’s pretty incredible.” or maybe a “i’m super impressed with your knowledge. you learn that all on your win too… i don’t think i could do that.”

the first time he sees you stim he’s very confused

doesn’t say anything about it just observes until you feel his stare and stop

“why’d you stop? you looked like you were havin’ fun.”

“you were looking at me weird, ry.”

“oh…sorry about that. didn’t know what you were doing.”

he’ll get you right back into a happy mood though don’t worry

DANGER EHREN

ehren’s another person who will engage in your interest

he’s always asking questions or trying to relate with information he knows about the topic

even if he doesn’t know much, he’s always trying rest assured

if it’s with animals or one specifically, he’s definitely giving you little doodles of them whenever he sees you

it’s not even that he’s artistically gifted, he just loves seeing you smile

when you stim, he asks questions about it

“so, you do that when you’re really happy?”

“mhm! it helps me get all my jitters out.”

ehren’s then stimming with you every so often because he sees how helpful it is

you start stimming halfway through talking about your interest and he grins a little

it’s very nice for him to see someone be so authentically themself

DAVE ENGLAND

another man who’s confused at first

he asks questions about the degrees of your interests though to better understand

“you like this one thing a whole bunch, right? so you like things a normal amount but then there are specifics that you like the most?”

“yes! it can change sometimes though. it really depends.”

dave’s always trying to tell you fun facts he learns about your interest so you feel like you can relate to someone

you might already know what he’s saying but it’s another excuse to talk more about it and he’s okay with that

he loves seeing you excited to tell him anything and everything he could wonder about

dave also fact checks with you if he talks about your interests, you’re an all knowing person on the topic in his eyes

him seeing you stim probably came from dave gifting you a book dedicated to your interest honestly

he thought it’d be a nice surprise but now you’re vibrating

dave joins it because he figures you’re just super excited

[knoxvilleforever]

Jackass Guys Dating a S/O with Autism Headcanons

request: Jackass guys dating a autistic male reader. It could be anything from the guys making sure if you stay in a hotel that the sheets are specific materials. Or helping you during sensory overload. Which guys would just listen to you ramble about your hyperfixations?

it goes without saying that all of the guys would put your needs above their own

they’d constantly be making sure you’re comfortable in the environment you’re in

i feel like johnny especially would be really vigilant about things for your comfort

he’s the one who takes every precaution as to not end up with you in a situation that doesn’t work for you

100% calls up the hotel you’re staying at and makes it very clear what materials the sheets should be

and he brings his own as a back up because he doesn’t trust them

chris would absolutely be one to read a situation which might become too much for you

and as soon as he sees signs of it becoming too loud or too much going on

he’s doing all he can to remove you from the situation and keep you calm

listens to your every word about what you need in that moment

always has headphones with him if music is something which helps calm you

very respectful about what you need in the moment

if it’s needing to leave or if you can’t communicate with him

all of the guys would ask what they can do for you during sensory overload

and they’d follow what you said to the exact word

now i think bam especially would enjoy listening to your hyperfixations

he’s mesmerised whilst he’s listening to you talk

and he asks a million questions because he’s so interested

i feel his personality would mesh well and he’d take a genuine interest in what you have to say

i’ll say the same for steve o

we know this man loves to talk

but what he loves more is listening to you talk

the two of you could spend hours listening to each other

and he’s always ready to listen whenever you feel like rambling

both bam and steve o would also remember what you say

and they’d tell others about it if they’re in a situation where it arises

i think johnny would make an effort to look into your hyperfixations if he didn’t know much about them

because he wants to listen and understand what you’re talking about

and also be able to contribute to what you’re talking about

chris would go out of his way to find out something he could tell you about

it’s his way of showing that he hears what you’re saying and isn’t just entertaining it

overall i think all of the guys would be very attentive and above all listen to what is best for you

they’ll do anything to make sure you’re comfortable

nothing is too much to ask for them when it comes to you

[cakers-2000]

~"You're an idiot, you know that?"~ (Miya X Fem!Reader)

I would die for Miya Chinen

Miya Chinen protection squad, let us assemble.

He's too precious for this world.

Uh but anyway I'm hyperfixating on this show and Miya really bad so have this scenario that I whipped up rather quickly.

(Warning: A bit of foul language!)

Word count: 1.1k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had always surprised you that the people and competitors in the S community welcomed you with open arms. You weren’t a skateboarder, you knew next to nothing about the sport but they accepted as their own.

You always felt like you had a home among the many members of the community, they had always been so nice to you. Though you wanted to believe that this was because they were just nice and welcoming people, you knew this most likely wasn’t true, (except for maybe Reki and Langa). The real answer was most likely due to the fact that you were Miya Chinen’s girlfriend. You only found yourself at S to support him and his endeavors but truth be told you had grown to love it there.

Though the Miya you knew seemed to be completely different from the one the other skateboarders knew. He was such a kind and sweet soul to you, but it seemed the other skaters didn’t think of him as such.

It was almost a weekly activity to join him a few times at night to the old mines S was located in. He’d take a small break from the skating scene to walk with you towards the starting line, your fingers intertwined as you walked together. Though during these times his attention was never focused on you, instead he would survey the crowd and try to get a read on his ‘competition’. But you didn’t mind, just being able to hold his hand was enough for you.

But sooner rather than later you had to let go of the warmth that always radiated from him and step aside so that he could race. You’d take your normal spot next to Langa and Reki and watch the show begin.

Tonight was just like any other. The stroll to the starting line, the sit down and cheer with Reki and Langa, and then joining Shadow at the finish line to welcome him with the normal hugs, pats on the back and kisses (only from you of course, though you wouldn’t deny Reki had indeed tried to slip one on the younger boys cheek to mock him, which didn’t end well for the older boy).

“Oh wow, look at him go, the dude’s got him cornered! I haven’t seen anyone corner Miya like this since the race with Langa!”

As usual Reki was practically foaming at the mouth as he watched the two skate, most likely itching to be racing right alongside them.

“You really think so?”

You were just as entranced on the screen as Reki. you really hadn’t seen Miya struggle with a win like this since his race with Langa. You could see Langa staring at the two of you out of the corner of your eye. He looked rather surprised, maybe he thought differently then the two of you. You slowly leaned yourself backwards to rest on a crate behind you. You weren’t particularly worried. Miya was one of the best, and everyone knew it. He would pull through in the end, he always did.

“Ugh this is so lame.” Your interest was piqued as you heard another man speak to a group a few feet away from you. “This is all so bs. That kid is only good because he cheats to win.”

You could feel your blood boiling just at hearing the allegations these men were throwing about your boyfriend. Your body tensed and you slightly stood yourself back upwards and continued to listen.

“Like that time he raced Shadow. There’s no way he could’ve won without some kind of cheating. He’s probably getting in the poor dudes head right now as we speak.”

“What the hell.”

With all of your patience gone you stormed your way towards the men, unbeknownst to the rest of your group of friends. You weren’t going to let them get away with tarnishing Miya like that, especially when he wasn’t here to defend himself.

“(Y/N) it looks like he’s pulling ahead! I think he’s gonna win this!”

Upon not hearing a response from you Reki glanced to his side and a wave of panic hit him. Oh god where were you!? He was so so so dead if he lost you in this crowd.

“What the hell did you say to me you little bitch!?”

The shouting beside him was the key indicator for where you went. A long sigh escaped his lips, all focus on the race now gone and he practically sprinted towards you, Langa following as well.

“I said to take back what you said! Miya doesn’t cheat, he never has you jackass!”

“Oh you’re asking for it kid!”

You were so blinded with your own emotions you hadn’t even considered the possibility of danger, but now here it was right in front of you as this man wound his fist, ready to attack and you could do nothing but cower and brace yourself for impact.

“(Y/N)!”

The hit never came. Instead it was the sound of wheels grinding to a halt and a brush of wind past you. You slowly but surely opened one of your eyes to get a glimpse at what had just saved you, only to be greeted by a familiar green sweater and black hair.

Miya had managed to place himself in between the two of you, board raised slightly above his head so that the man's fist clashed rather harshly into the wood of the bottom. If looks could kill this man would have been dead a hundred times over. He wanted to speak, he wanted to cuss this man out, to give him what he deserved but a small tug at his clothes brought him back to his senses and he turned rather quickly to face you.

Reki had already stepped in to deal with the man Miya had fended off so he had nothing left to worry about but you. His board clashed to the floor and his hand instinctively fell to your cheeks, gently caressing and examining every inch of your face. His emerald orbs shone with nothing but worry and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you alright!? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No, no I’m okay Miya.” Your hand fell to rest on top of his in an attempt to reassure the poor boy. He was probably just as frightened as you after all. “Thanks to you.”

You could see a small dust of pink form on his cheeks before a small sigh escaped him and he moved one of his hands to instead run his fingers through your hair, eyes still full of concern. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

A small giggle escaped your lips and you moved your wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. A small hum of satisfaction escaped him as he moved his free hand to wrap around your waist and continue to play with your hair, it had always been rather soothing to him.

“But who’s idiot am I?”

The blush on his cheeks worsened still but he responded, voice barely above a whisper as he placed a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Mine…”

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Sometimes a Great Notion

This is one of those old movies my mom requested that we couldn’t even find at our local library. It’s incredibly hard to track down, which says more about how easily lost our film history and culture can be as we move from format to format rather than its quality as a film, but that is another conversation. Basically this 1971 film is the second that Paul Newman directed, and it tells the story of the Stamper family, a family who run an independent logging business in a town where the local logging union has gone on strike. As independents, they take the union’s former contracts and as the film goes on, the consequences of that choice become larger and larger, and depending on your perspective, this is either an indomitable tale of the perseverance of the human spirit or a disheartening look at everything that makes America the end-stage capitalist nightmare it currently is.  

Some thoughts: 

It appears that I’m supposed to think Henry Fonda, as the patriarch of the Stamper clan, is a charming old coot, like an Archie Bunker type, complaining about Commie pinko socialists and calling his estranged son a New York fairy. I’m not really seeing the charm here.

I’m not 100% sure what’s going on with this subplot where Joe B (Richard Jaekel) and his wife apparently attend the Church of God and the Metaphysical Science...so maybe they’re cult members too? That never really gets delved into, which is a head scratcher.

I feel like with this dialogue they’re supposed to be kind of...gruff and jokey with each other, but I really don’t get it. None of it seems funny at all, just aggro. 

I think I'm just really confused about what exactly this movie IS. It’s not a character study because we’re learning so little about these people. It doesn’t seem to be a David vs. Goliath small business taking on The Man story because the whole union vs. Stamper family thing doesn’t seem to be anything the Stampers are that concerned about. Leeland (Michael Sarrazin) coming back after a long absence is certainly a wrinkle, but no one is actually delving into what that means for the family or how they feel about it. Like the purpose of the film seems to just be “these are some people doing their jobs and going about their business for a couple hours.”

Like for real, there are multiple really long segments that just show them doing logging shit. 

And listen, I’m not one of those people that only wants to watch media where I like the characters. There are a lot of bad people and evil characters that I don’t want to emulate and would absolutely hate to be around in real life that I REALLY enjoy watching. Hell, in the last year, my main TV hyperfixations have been Succession and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. So it’s not the fact that the Stampers are sexist, stubborn, union-busting jackasses. I just don’t really care about any of them and I question why I should care about their story because the movie isn’t doing a very good job at convincing me. 

There are some Very Good Dogs! At least that’s something.

This would be a way more interesting movie if Leeland and Viv (Hank’s wife, played with stunning grace by Lee Remick) hook up because Leeland is the only one who talks to her or listens to what she has to say. He sees her in a way no one else in the family sees these women at all. ESPECIALLY because even though Henry is Leeland’s father, Hank had an affair with Leeland’s mother too, which is deeply disturbing because we find out he was 14 and she was 30. Fuck, now there’s statutory rape and unresolved trauma involved. Wouldn’t this be a fantastic thing to actually talk about and delve into? Wouldn’t this whole relationship entanglement and the ripple effects it’s had on this family be really interesting? NOT ACCORDING TO PAUL NEWMAN I GUESS.

As much as I love Paul Newman, I’m really questioning a lot of his directorial choices, too. He can’t control the story or the script so much (this is based on a Ken Kesey novel) but other choices are baffling. The pacing is a mess. Some scenes go on for what seems like forever for no reason, others are brutally short or feel cut off. The transitions between scenes are all these quick cuts that don’t let anything breathe. Leeland and Viv’s deep, intimate conversation ends with her saying Hank’s satisfied and Leland asking “Are you?” and then BOOM next scene where bluegrass kicks in and they’re all riding motorcycles. What should have been a body blow of a moment gets its legs cut out right from underneath, and it’s a damn shame.

“To work and eat and screw and sleep and drink and keep on going, that’s for what. That’s all there is.” - the film’s central thesis, uttered by Henry Stamper in his big Oscar-worthy monologue. Which in a nihilist sort of way I agree with, but there’s a big fat asterisk that gets ignored here: if you’re doing those things and directly, knowingly causing the suffering of others - and you can make choices that AVOID that as much as possible, and you DON’T - well that’s where your philosophy turns to shit, I’m afraid.

And the consequences of that philosophy are laid bare when the Stamper family has one HELL of a bad day. Play stupid games and win stupid prizes. 

I really thought the movie was going to end with Hank sitting alone in his dark, quiet house drinking beer and feeling sorry for himself and maybe reflecting on the enormous cost of his decisions. Instead the movie ends with Hank displaying his father’s severed arm at the top of his boat, flipping the bird to the town he’s turned his back on. And frankly it’s a big “fuck you” to the audience as well, for thinking that the Stamper family could learn or grow or see outside of their own rugged individualism for one second. 

Did I Cry? I probably should have, but any emotional weight the tragedies we watch hold gets completely deflated when no one learns a goddamn thing from them. 

All things considered, this movie is a perfect encapsulation of the toxic attitudes that have yielded every single moral failing of America from its inception. The myth of the American frontiersman, pulling himself up by his bootstraps, owing nothing to no one and simply trying to work hard and provide for his own family - it’s all wrapped up in the same wars (both literal and figurative) we’ve been fighting for centuries. We’re supposed to cheer at the Stampers for sticking to their guns and moving forward to get the job done no matter the cost, and that’s precisely the fucking problem. Costs matter, especially when they’re paid in human lives. And I would be more willing to view this film as a fascinating artifact of attitudes that have gone by the wayside if we weren’t having the same damn argument today. As a result, it ends up just feeling frustrating. 

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[galahadwilder]

We Are Miraculous, Ch. 1: Exposed

We Are Miraculous Archive

Ladybug worries her lip with her teeth as she looks over the connecting cables. She knows which ones go where—she’s the one who added the ports to the yo-yo—but this moment isn’t one she’s been looking forward to.

She flips open the compact, positions it so she can see the screen, and mounts the webcam on the railing. She picked this roof because it’s about eight blocks from her house, so there’s no chance of anyone using context clues to guess her identity. The webcam’s USB cable slots into the yo-yo with ease; she wishes, just a little, that she’d had to struggle with it. Getting annoyed always calms her nerves for some reason, and this, right here, is the most nerve-wracking thing she’s ever done.

The webcam set up, she presses record on the yo-yo, then steps back into frame. She crosses her arms in front of herself, clutching her wrist, then thinks better of it and lets go. She raises her chin, takes a breath, and looks straight into the camera.

“My name is Ladybug,” she says. “And I have an anxiety disorder.”

*

It started with some jackass on TVi. There’d been a new study on PTSD in Akuma victims, and whether it increased the risk of repeated Akumatizations; Nadja Chamack had interviewed a few experts on psychology, and then this one guy—a municipal councilor the 16th Arrondissement, all the way across the city from the 21st where most Akuma attacks were concentrated—decided to open his big mouth.

“Obviously, the problem is the prevalence of untreated mental illness among Parisians,” he’d said. “Hawkmoth takes advantage of emotional instability. These loonies he targets are just as dangerous as he is—we should be devoting police efforts to keeping an eye on the people who are so clearly the most likely to be evilized—”

An actual expert cut him off at that moment—that was most definitely not how Akumatization worked, not even slightly—but the damage was already done.

By the end of the week, violence and discrimination against the neurodivergent had spiked. The Ladyblog was flooded with reports of “thwarted Akuma attacks” that were in fact just unprovoked violence, physical or verbal, against vulnerable people. With one stupid interview, anyone who showed a single sign of “otherness” in public had become a potential victim of an unforgiving public. Many people had become too afraid to go outside; some of them were missing vital treatments for fear of the kangaroo court of public opinion.

If Ladybug didn’t know any better, she’d say that Hawkmoth had paid off the guy. He couldn’t have created a better atmosphere for Akuma if he’d been trying. Given the ones she’d had to fight this week—most of them desperate, scared people who’d been offered an escape from the judgment—Hawkmoth was reveling in this.

That couldn’t fly. Ladybug couldn’t let it.

*

Now, on the roof, Ladybug looks into the webcam, breathes, and begins. “My name is Ladybug,” she says. “And I have an anxiety disorder.”

She has to take a moment, as her heart clenches and tugs her ribcage inward, before she can speak again. She looks away from the camera, her mouth open, unable to actually say anything.

She decides, in the moment, not to edit this out. It’s important. People need to see her struggling, people need to see that she’s like them.

Finally, she turns back to the camera, rubbing her temples. “If you’re watching this,” she says, “there’s a good chance that you, or someone you love, has a mental illness.” She closes her eyes, clenches her teeth, trying not to growl. “Édouard Caron has claimed that these people are dangerous. That they are targets for Hawkmoth.” Her arms fall to her sides, and she opens her eyes, raises her eyebrows, purses her lips. “Of course, that requires ignoring the fact that the vast majority of Akuma are caused by nothing of the sort.”

She steps forward, clenching a fist. “Chat Noir and I have repeated, again and again, that Akumatization is not the victim’s fault. Monsieur Caron: what you said on Monday was irresponsible, dangerous, and above all, false.” She turns away from the camera again, breathing in. “Most of my friends have been Akumatized, and they are, as far as I know, way more mentally stable than I am.”

The enormity of what she’s doing crashes in on her again, and she whimpers. “God, I wish Chat were here,” she says, clutching at her elbow.

She’d better leave that in the final product too.

She clears her throat, looks back at the camera. “My name is Ladybug,” she says. “And, like I said, I have an anxiety disorder.” She smiles. “Also, probably ADHD, but I haven’t had that checked.” She glances away again. “I have... panic episodes,” she mumbles. “Hyperfixations. I’m always worried about worst-case scenarios, even when they’re completely unreasonable. My friends always tell me I need to get out of my own head, but...” She snorts, looking back at the camera. “Easier said than done, right?”

She points at the camera. “Long story short. I am mentally ill. I take medication. If Monsieur Caron were correct, I should have been Akumatized multiple times already.” She grins. “Instead, I have actually driven off every Akuma that Hawkmoth tried to send after me, simply by willpower.” She raises a fist, clenches it. “Anxiety is my superpower,” she says, moving her hand to point at her temple. “Nothing Hawkmoth sends after me can ever be worse than what’s in my own brain.”

She turns around, hugs herself, and breathes. Almost done, she thinks. Just one more minute. Then you can get off camera and go grab some blankets.

She turns back to the camera. “Neurodivergence is not—not inherently dangerous,” she says. “Despite my anxiety, I’ve been entrusted with one of the greatest powers in the universe, and the responsibility to use it wisely. And as most anyone in Paris can tell you...” She spreads her arms. “I kind of have.” She blinks, slowly, breathes in, then out. “I ask everyone who watches this video to—to spread it, to show it to your friends. Édouard Caron is wrong. And if you’re like me...” She clutches her elbow again. “If your brain doesn’t always do what you want, remember that you aren’t alone. The Hero of Paris is with you.” She lets go, gives a quick wave. “Bug out!”

*

She sends the video straight to Alya as soon as it’s done editing. Alya’s response is an all-caps keysmash, and a rapid turnaround, posting the video straight to the front page of the Ladyblog. 2 hours and 10,000 hits later, Marinette’s heart finally stops clenching every time she reloads the page and sees another few hundred people have watched her expose her shame in front of the entire city, and she calms down enough to go to sleep.

*

“I can’t believe that asshole!” Alya screeches the next morning, slamming her phone onto the desk.

“Wha?” Marinette murmurs, lifting her head from the desk where she’s been taking a quick power nap.

Alya’s face is apoplexy-red—Marinette can see the veins popping on her forehead. “I just... I can’t...” Her right eye flutters closed, like she’d eaten something so sour she’d lost control of her face. “You know that asshole from the 16th Arrondissement who was calling for mass surveillance on the mentally ill?”

Marinette’s chest tightens. No. “Yeah,” she says, trying to keep her voice level. “I’ve heard of the guy.”

Alya shakes her head. “I just... Here,” she says, thrusting the phone into Marinette’s face.

Marinette looks down, and her entire body goes cold.

Caron Questions Hero’s Qualifications After Shocking Confession from Ladybug

“What an absolute ass,” Chloé growls from behind them. Alya nods along.

Marinette can’t breathe. It’s all she can do not to cry.

We Are Miraculous Archive

[dangerehrensretainer]

My beautiful wives who are also insane

[ragingbookdragon]

To Challenge The Flow Of Fate PT. 2

An Adrian Tepes (Alucard) x Reader Story

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence Author’s Note: Since this is my hyperfixation ATM, Castlevania is all y’all are getting rn. So, have fun! -Thorne

She squinted as she stared into the clear sky. Most of the damage around the Speaker house had already been cleaned out, but the scent of the dead still remained, hanging in the air. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, careful to not move too much from her position. Trevor hadn’t been overly fond of leaving her alone with the vampire, and she had to admit, that on some level, standing with her back to him didn’t exactly bring fondness to her either. However, he was a warrior, and his swear to not kill them counted enough for her to trust it. The two hadn’t spoken since they’d left the crypt, but when he finally started to speak, it wasn’t to her. His voice was so quiet that she had to strain to hear him, and she held her breath, determined not to make a sound. “Alucard, they called me. The opposite of you.” He shifted, and the sound of scratching reached her ears. “Mother never liked that. Did you know that? She hated to idea that I might define myself by you…even in opposition to you. She loved us both. Enough that she wanted us to be our own people. Living our own lives. Making our own choices.” She drew her gaze from the sky to the ground, her own memories clouding her mind.

           “Mistress (Y/N), are you paying attention?” Her eyes darted from the window to the older man standing in front of her.

           “Not if I can help it Alders.” He frowned and placed the parchment down on her desk.

           “Then help it. You need to learn how to distinguish this monster from-” (Y/N) frowned, voice nonchalant as she cut him off.

           “Striga’s are distinguishable by their agility, strength, and the way they move as well as they look. All fours and gray skin. They sleep in crypts during the day, hunt at night, are resistant to steel but susceptible to silver.” She leaned forward, glaring at the scholar. “Have I missed anything?” He raised a white eyebrow and asked,

           “How do you kill one?” (Y/N) looked down at the parchment and murmured,

           “If you can keep the Striga from returning to her crypt by the third crowing of the rooster, she will turn to a human again.” The old man sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

           “Mistress (Y/N), you are apart of the Belmont family. It is your duty to kill monsters, not cure them. How would a something like that be capable of functioning after a life of being a monstrosity?” She glanced out the window, watching her brother fence with his trainer and whispered,

           “Probably the same way we’ve survived being murderers.”

           A sharp stab brought her back to reality, and she tipped her head to the side, listening to Adrian murmur, “And so here I am. Choosing to honor my mother by killing my father. No longer Adrian Tepes. Choosing to be Alucard of Wallachia, the name of my mother’s people. I’m sorry mother.” (Y/N) frowned at how heartbroken he sounded but wiped the look from her face as she saw Sypha and Trevor approaching. She nodded at them, flashing Sypha a sad smile. “And so, we begin again.” The two entered the house, and Sypha stepped forward asking,

           “So, how do we proceed?” Adrian glanced back at them.

           “Have the Speakers left?” Trevor nodded.

           “Yeah.”

           “I’m sorry,” He offered the Magician. “In success, you will see them again soon, in far happier circumstances.” At that, Sypha glared at Trevor, gesturing to the vampire.

           “See? He knows how to be nice.” She paused a moment. “Is it true, then? The castle can travel somehow? We know the stories, but sometimes it’s hard to separate myth from truth.” (Y/N) watched her brother bend over and open a box, beginning to rummage through it.

           “Tell her about Dracula’s castle, Alucard. Her day can’t get any more ruined.” Adrian looked passed them for a moment.

           “Dracula’s castle moves. How to describe it? It travels without moving. It appears at locations as if…well, as if my magic.” (Y/N) almost let out a laugh as Trevor picked up a broken bottle, but kept quiet as Sypha said,

           “There has to be some way to trap it. How do we start?” Trevor frowned and muttered,

           “I want to go home.”

           “Have you been drinking again?” Trevor glanced over his shoulder.

           “Some chance. But no. I want to go home. The old Belmont estate.” This caught (Y/N)’s attention and she stared at him as Adrian countered,

           “I was under the impression it was destroyed. Villagers, pitchforks, and torches, that sort of thing.” Both (Y/N) and Trevor’s faces drew dark.

           “It was. But the value of the old house wasn’t the house itself. It was-” (Y/N) cut him off.

           “The Belmont Hold.” Trevor glanced at her and nodded.

           “The family library and trove.” Adrian blinked, but then nodded.

           “The collected knowledge and material of generations of Belmont’s who fought the creatures of the night.” His golden eyes narrowed, and his tone took on a hint of intrigue. “That sounds interesting. If it survives…” Her brother raised his hands.

           “If there are solutions to the problems of finding and killing Dracula, they are in the Hold.” The vampire crossed his arms, turning his gaze to Trevor.

           “You’re guessing, though.” (Y/N) turned around, looking at the three.

           “He is guessing. Trevor can’t read or understand magic, but our family stored everything they found, books of magic, potions, weapons, and whatever other weird shit they came across.” Trevor nodded and she added, “He can’t do anything with it. But we three can.” For a moment, no one said anything, then Adrian quipped,

           “Fortunate indeed, then, that I choose not to kill and eat you two Belmont’s.” (Y/N) snorted unwilling to take the bait, but Trevor couldn’t resist it as he glowered at the vampire.

           “And that I decided against gutting you, flaying you, and,” Trevor bent over, motioning to his foot, “turning you into shoes, Alucard.” Sypha sighed, turning to leave.

           “Such a merry band we are. I will find us a covered wagon and horses, if you two can manage not to kill each other while I’m gone.” Adrian scoffed.

           “Oh please. We’re not children.” Sypha glanced at them over her shoulder with a look of doubt before turning to (Y/N).

           “Please keep them from killing each other.” She walked off as (Y/N) raised her arms in the air.

           “Wait! I am not playing mediator for these morons!” The Speaker simply waved a hand back at her and she sighed, propping up against the wall as Trevor muttered,

           “Eat shit and die.”

           “Yes, fuck you.” The two began chuckling as (Y/N) groaned, and after a moment of silence, Adrian questioned,

           “Do you two really believe we could find the tools to kill my father at your old home?” Neither sibling said a word until Trevor responded,

           “I’ll be honest with you…I don’t have a better idea. I just know that right here, right now, we are under-equipped for the job.”

           “And you, (Y/N)?” She looked at Adrian, her shadow obscuring his face; she shrugged and stated,

           “Trev’s right. None of us are equipped to fight Dracula and whatever horde he’s got in his castle. The hold has armors and weapons we can use, and knowledge we can learn.” She met his eyes. “We need into that hold if we want to win this.” Adrian went quiet for a moment, then nodded, looking between them.

           “I’m trusting you two Belmont’s. Don’t make me regret it.” Trevor scoffed, but kept silent, and (Y/N) announced,

           “A horrible decision really. You’re stuck with the two most annoying people in the world.” She caught sight of the smirk that played Adrian’s lips, and reminded, “It won’t take Sypha long to get the horses and wagon, and since it’s still midafternoon, we should probably wait for sundown to leave.” Her brother studied and asked,

           “Why?” Her eyes narrowed into a glare and she deadpanned,

           “Hmm, I don’t know Trevor. Maybe it’s because we’re traveling with a child of the night? Who can burst into flames if he steps into the sun? You know, what happens during the day? The sun is up. It would be counterproductive to kill the only one who could actually kill Dracula.” Her brother’s face pinched and he muttered,

           “I could kill Dracula.” Adrian and (Y/N) both glared at Trevor and retorted,

           “No, you can’t.” The two looked back at one another and laughed, then Adrian asked,

           “Is that why you’ve been standing there the entire time? To shield me from the sun?” (Y/N) nodded, but went still as he stood, walking over to her. He stopped and gazed at her as she stared in shock.

           “You can…you can walk in the sunlight?” He nodded and thanked,

           “Despite the fact that you didn’t need to, I appreciate you thinking of my safety.” When she didn’t respond, Trevor leaned over to look at her and barked a laugh.

           “Good job vampire. You’ve pissed her off.” Adrian barely had time to mutter, ‘what?’ before (Y/N) set into him, an annoyed look on her face.

           “You mean to tell me that I woke up at the ass crack of dawn, got into a position where I could block the sun from hitting you, only to find out like nine hours later that you can be in the sun?” She leaned forward. “It didn’t occur to you to mention that earlier?” Adrian blinked at her before shrugging.

           “You didn’t say what you were doing.” (Y/N) could feel her eye twitch as she took a step closer.

           “You didn’t think to ask me? Do I look like the type of person who stands around looking like a jackass?” Adrian opened his mouth, but she pointed her finger in his face and threatened, “That was rhetorical, and I swear to god if you answer that I will shove your head up his ass.” She ended the threat by pointing at Trevor who raised his hands defensively.

           “Oi, don’t drag me into this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” She ignored him, turning away from the two, and griped,

           “I can’t believe I skipped out on valuable sleep to shield a vampire that can walk during the day.” (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot impatiently when a hand rested on her shoulder; she looked over to see Adrian smiling at her.

           “Thank you (Y/N). Your concern is greatly appreciated. Truly.” (Y/N) swallowed thickly before clearing her throat, waving him off.

           “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She pointed towards the way Sypha went off. “I’m going to check on Sypha and see if she needs help. Don’t kill one another while I’m gone.” The two men nodded as she left, then a moment later, Trevor warned,

           “Don’t touch my sister Alucard.” He turned around and scowled at him.

           “What are you her father?”

           “I will kick your ass.”

           “As if you could.”

Some Time Later:

           The fire snapped and popped as (Y/N) dropped another log into it before moving back to her spot between Adrian and Trevor. “I’m still not completely clear on why you don’t catch fire in the daylight.” Sypha’s words drew their attention to Adrian.

           “I am half-human.” He looked away from them as if remembering something important. “My mother’s name was Lisa, and she was mortal.” The speaker let out a laugh.

           “I would very much like to hear the story of how that happened.” Adrian chuckled softly and explained,

           “She actually showed up at his front door. She found the castle and banged the door with the pommel of her knife.” Sypha smiled.

           “She sounds interesting!” The vampire nodded, smiling faintly.

           “Oh, she was remarkable. She beat on the door until my father let her in, and then demanded he teach her how to be a doctor.” With the revelation, Trevor sat up and wondered,

           “Wait, Dracula taught a human woman how to be a doctor?” He scoffed. “What was first? Blood-letting?” Her brother broke into laughter, and (Y/N) reached over, socking him in the arm.

           “Would it kill you to not be a shithead for once?” Trevor stuck his tongue out at her, but she rolled her eyes, gesturing for Adrian to continue.

           “My father-” He was cut off as Trevor included, ‘Dracula’, but kept going. “is a man of science, a philosopher, a scholar, and knows things our society have forgotten three times over. Do you still not understand the enormity of what we’re doing?” Adrian turned his gaze to the fire. “He’s gone mad. And from that, there is no recovering him.” Trevor rolled his eyes and muttered,

           “Shame.” (Y/N) reached over socking him again, and he pulled away from her rubbing his arm, but Adrian nodded.

           “It’s a tragedy. He’s a repository of centuries of learning. He could’ve changed the world. I think he might have, if mother hadn’t died. She’d sent him out into the world. And that’s why he wasn’t there when the bishops took her.” (Y/N)’s lips pulled down and she whispered,

           “Oh god…they burned her at the stake…” Adrian didn’t respond, but she knew the silence was her answer.

           “She sent him away?” Adrian glanced over at Sypha and nodded.

           “She sent him to…travel. To learn the true state of the world, the true nature of humans and how they live.”

           “She was turning him.”

           “Imagine if he could have aimed all that knowledge at improving lives. If the religious inquisition hadn’t proved true all of his worst instincts about humans.” Trevor, who’d been silent up until that point, interjected.

           “And now he’s going to use her death as an excuse to destroy the world.” The vampire huffed, gazing away.

           “Oh, the world will still be here, Belmont. Trees will still grow, birds will still sing, animals will still hump away in the undergrowth. But you won’t be here Belmont.” He glanced at Sypha. “You won’t be here.” Finally, he turned his gaze to (Y/N). “And neither will you.” He paused. “The sun will still set, but you will not see it rise. There will only be Dracula, and his war council, and the hordes of the night. He writes in great books, you know. He hews the covers himself from oak, and wraps them in the preserved skin of the people who he hated most. And he writes plans. I’ve seen them. Ideas for darkening clouds and making them as permanent in the air as the frost of the north. Create strange flying machines that pull shrouds across the sky to block out the sun. Imagine it. A world without humans, under endless invented night. And Dracula in his castle, his revenge so horribly complete that there is nothing left to do but look out over a world without art or memory or laughter and know that he did his work well. That he did it all for love.” The silence was heavy and the atmosphere so awkward around them, that no one seemed to be able to break it until Trevor said,

           “He needs a hobby.” (Y/N) nodded, not even upset at his disregard. They fell silent once more, then a moment later, low growling sounded from a distance followed by rustling branches. Trevor looked at (Y/N). “Did you hear that?” She nodded, but Adrian simply waved a hand.

           “Animals humping in the undergrowth.” The growling seemed to spread, and (Y/N) reached beside her, pulling the silver sword from its sheath, and rose.

           “It’s not animals. I sense darkness.” She looked down at them. “Get up. Get up now and get ready.” Her brother kicked the fire out and looked at them.

           “Which is the nearest town? Is it still Gresit?” Sypha shook her head.

           “Arges is closer to us.” The snarling became louder, and (Y/N) turned, staring into the distance.

           “I can’t see them, but I can hear their steps. There’s at least twelve out there.” She looked at Trevor. “Go high, Adrian, you hit them head on, and Sypha…well, you do what you do best.” The three nodded, and (Y/N) turned, moving towards the trees.

           “What is she doing?” Trevor waved off Sypha’s question as he moved to the tree.

           “Don’t worry about her.”

           Minutes later, the three stood amidst the destruction. Adrian peered at the damage. “(Y/N) said there was twelve. I count eleven.” A dark snarl echoed in their ears and they turned, seeing a bigger beast moving towards them, it’s teeth and claws sharp and glinting in the moonlight. Trevor pulled out his whip, beginning to twirl it as the beast hurdled towards them.

           “There’s the twelfth one.” The three readied themselves when a silver chain shot out through the air, wrapping around the beast’s stomach. It recoiled, screeching as the chain burned into its skin. A figure appeared from the side and darted towards it, a longsword gleaming along with it. The figure wrapped their arm in the chain and pulled with such strength, that the creature slammed into the ground. Not wasting a second, the figure leaped to the creature’s backside, climbing up its shoulders. The beast raised its arms, but it was too late as the figure brought the longsword down in a large arc.

A moment later, the beast’s head dropped to the ground, and its body went limp. The figure jumped off and yanked the chain back, watching it recede into the handle before moving towards the trio. Trevor eyed the handle in their hands and quipped, “You know, I forgot that you had that, and I’m still jealous of it (Y/N).” She grinned at him, tucking the tool back into her belt.

           “Then you can stay jealous, because it’s mine.” She looked at the other bodies around them. “Sorry I wasn’t here to help you fight these ones.” (Y/N) nodded at the one she’d killed. “I sensed that one lagging behind, so I went to get ready for it.” She glanced back at them. “Is anyone hurt?” They shook their heads, and she moved past them. “Then we need to get moving. If he’s sending parties this far, chances are we’ll encounter more on the way, and we still have another day until we reach the estate.” Sypha followed after her, but Adrian nor Trevor moved.

           “You sister is powerful.” Trevor side eyed the vampire and nodded.

           “She is…she’s the most powerful person I’ve ever seen.” Adrian gazed at (Y/N)’s back and murmured,

           “She really would’ve cut my head off if I hadn’t stood down.”

           “Probably cut your cock off too.” The vampire turned to the brother who snorted at him. “I’m joking…mostly.” He coiled the whip around his arm and began walking off, leaving Adrian alone. The vampire gazed at the beast before turning away, heading to the wagon.

[mikiruma]

✨ 🎥 💕🏳️‍🌈 with saints row!

✨ what draws you towards your hyperfixation? what is interesting about it?

viddy game.... Fun..... i like the plot being linear enough so its easy to follow but juuuuust batshit to allow comedic potential... and also ik some ppl would say flat-ish characters r bad, but i think enough is provided abt characters already so u can expand on them urself... that & the fandom in general is VERY creative!!! so if theres somethin u didnt like in source, chances are like 20 ppl have reworked it in 20 different ways and theyre all pretty appealing. not canon specific but im puttin that out there :P

🎥 do you have any favorite scenes from your hyperfixation?

hard tie between “dex & troy,” “a romantic dinner” and “of shipments and skee-ball”.... those cutscenes make me go nuts ive rewatched em so many times

💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

ONLY ONE>??

johnny is the easiest choice so of course i’m gonna go off abt him.... he’s the designated badass & i love his whole “surviving mortal wounds” schtick, but like. listen. he’s a doof??? listen his love for dumb sci-fi??? taking shit from nobody except the boss??? his sr4 loyalty mission??? or just anything he does in sr4???? also im repressed twink so when i see a bear/hunk i heart eyes

oh yeah i have also been in a pierce mood, i’m so mad he’s just the funny haha butt of all the jokes bc he honestly seems like one of the best friends u could have... going out of his way to try and lift everyones spirits in sr3??? as much shit as boss talks abt him he’s genuinely fun to be around and i love when u get to hang out with him???? yeah he’s kind of the meme too but he’s also real and i would die for him

🏳‍🌈 do you have any headcanons (lgbt, race, neuro, etc) that are important to you?

i don’t have TOO many hard-set hcs but like... johnny & pierce bi rights & boss is trans/nb.... also idk if i saw this somewhere or just thought of it but trans lin?? thank you. WAIT ALSO johnny/aisha/boss good end ot3..

for neuro hcs.. autistic matt miller of course....

but yeah all my sexuality hcs are basically “vaguely het’nt” bc i dont focus too much on ships, but if i like it & think abt it enough & have it in my peripherals often enough i just might hop on... same w gender hcs, like as much as i joke and jest abt everyone being trans, in the end it comes down 2 projection or considering other ppls hcs. yes i think for myself

no race hcs bc i honestly don’t do as much homework as i should on this front & don’t wanna be a jackass

[sweetlywingedcreation]

Stranger things 4 volume 2 spoilers.

Like MAJOR spoilers

I’m fucking emotionally devastated rn. Like I’m not angry even though I should be, I’m just disappointed.

Eddie didn’t fucking deserve that. Sure it was a close to his zero to hero story arc, but Jesus CHRIST. He died for a town that never loved him, will never know the sacrifice he made that was in VAIN since Vecna still won in the end.

The only people who mourned him were Dustin and Wayne, none of his friends, none of the hellfire club. They just left his body to get eaten by the bats and time skipped when they could have atleast shown the upside down crew console Dustin.

And don’t get me fucking started on the queer baiting. The official accounts retweeting Steddie art and making joke posts about them being in love. The blatant disrespect for Will and his feelings for Mike. The only queer person who got atleast a glimpse of happiness (not before she was devastated by seeing Vickie with a guy though) was Robin and even that’s up for debate seeing as they were just being friendly.

As a Queer person this just felt genuinely mean spirited and homophobic. Using a gay boys unrequited feelings for his best friend to further a straight relationship just. It really fucking sucks. Eddies obvious joke flirting with Steve in episode 8 (0 hetero explanation for “dontcha? big boy! :3), him being the “freak” and being so obviously queercoded only to be killed off in the next episode. Making Will and Robin see their crushes be with other people while standing in the background. It just really sucks to see the characters you love go through shit like that, especially when I really wasn’t necessary.

I just, I’ve been hyperfixating in this show so fucking hard, I stayed up all night to watch the last episodes, just to feel like I’ve been hit with a truck.

Was I expecting Eddie to die? Yes, though I was praying he’d be fine

Was I expecting Byler or Steddie to actually be canon? Byler kinda? (they were hyping it up with the fucking painting and the sad glances), Steddie no absolutely not. It would have been nice but I knew that was not going to happen.

Did it still ruin me emotionally to see one of my favourite queer coded character die on screen? Yes. I don’t cry to media but the scene between Dustin and Wayne broke me. I went to bed feeling numb and when my mom woke me up I cried again.

There’s people theorizing that there could be time travel some how and that Eddie will come back because Joseph said something about wanting to be in season 5. I think he’s going to come back but probably for flash back sequences. There’s 0 chance they’ll pull a Hopper and have him secretly be okay since we literally saw him take his last breath and there’s 0 chance that going back in time to kill child Henry Creel will work. If they manage to do that it’ll ruin so many character arcs, Steve’s especially since he wouldn’t have any big brother moments with Dustin nor become besties with Robin. He might even still be a jackass since Johnathan only was with Nancy because of the demegorgon, he’d never get beaten senseless because he’d never see them together.

I just. I have too many thoughts and feeling about this stupid fucking tv show that I’ve only been a fan of for like a month. I hate that I’ve hyperfixated on it this hard cause now that it’s over, and it destroyed one of my favourite comfort characters for me idk what to do now. Like I still want to talk about it and enjoy it because it’s the only thing my brain has latched on to for a while. But all the fics i have are going to just make me fucking sad and I feel so emotionally numb and all social media’s are gonna be filled with sad edits of Eddie.

I’m probably going to still watch season 5 but that’s not for another couple years, I just hope all of this bullshit gets resolved.

[tiqerboy-archive-blog]

ok uh personal shit under the cut

so y’all know how i like sing and i’m hyperfixating on it and stuff

but in all honesty it meant a helluva lot more than i let on. 

when johnny started singing “i’m still standing” at the end (presumably referring to his dad in the song, the song choice isn’t a coincidence), i nearly cried several times

i’ve never heard “i’m still standing before”, but i’m so glad i know it now. because when that song came on, suddenly my chains broke and snapped.

y’all know that i was in a hugely toxic relationship before, and it affected my life so much. everything reminded me of them, and everytime i reminded i would be consumed with either anger or sadness. they controlled my life even though they weren’t even in it anymore. it was infuriating. humiliating. unfair. why should this person that ruined my life have so much control over my thoughts and feelings? why should i still pine for them even though they hurt me?

if y’all don’t know what the lyrics to “i’m still standing” are, here’s a link

a lot of these lyrics spoke to me, and i suddenly felt so empowered and so confident in myself. i thought, “yknow, this person hurt me, but i’m still here. they didn’t beat me. i’m proud of that! why should THEY get the power over me? i beat THEM, not the other way around!” and suddenly my abuser’s influence was gone. suddenly the chains that tied me to them were broken, and i had control over how i FELT. 

i���m still reminded of them constantly, but now every time i’m reminded i think of that song and that scene and i grow proud because now I control the show, jackass. you don’t have reign over my feelings anymore. 

i’m even confident that if i were to meet them face to face again, or make eye contact, i could smile. 

do you know how amazing that feels? my life has been a constant hell of reminders for the longest fucking time, and now i’m free. it’s just-this movie caused all that. 

so yeah, i like the movie and think it’s amazing, but THIS is how much it meant to me. if i’d never been introduced to that song or that scenario in the movie that connected to me, i probably would still be miserable. i’m just so happy.

[dangerehrensretainer]

More fav jackass pics