#sorry I got a little hyperfixated
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murphy x reader one shot
crying screaming over murphy calling you an angel brb
warnings: smut :)
word count: 1.8k
The late morning sun filters through the blinds, casting soft shadows across Murphy’s small, cluttered apartment. The smell of coffee fills the air, warm and grounding, mixing with the faint scent of smoke as he leans against the doorframe, watching you. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling a curl of smoke as he lets his gaze linger on you, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.
You’re at the counter, barefoot and clothed in only his shirt that barely covers the cheeky lines at the juncture of your thighs, your hair still a little messy from sleep. There’s something peaceful about the scene, the simple routine of pouring coffee into chipped mugs, as if the world beyond these walls doesn’t exist for a moment.
“You’re somethin’ else, angel,” Murphy murmurs, his voice low and warm, breaking the quiet. The way he says it—like he can’t quite believe you’re really here—sends a flutter through you.
You glance over your shoulder, catching the softness in his expression, the way he’s looking at you like he doesn’t want to look anywhere else. “It’s just coffee,” you say, smiling as you hand him a mug.
He takes it from you, setting his cigarette aside before reaching out to pull you close. “Nah,” he whispers, his fingers brushing along your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheek. “It’s you, bein’ here, love… feels like I don’t even need to die to get to heaven.”
Your breath catches, his words wrapping around you, and he leans in, eyes holding yours for a lingering beat before he closes the last bit of space between you, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is gentle at first, warm and unhurried, as if he’s savoring the moment, letting it sink in.
You hear him set down his coffee mug and his other hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, his mouth fresh with the taste of coffee and cigarettes. You blindly set yours down on the counter beside him, both of your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, threading through his hair as he holds you steady, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that leaves you feeling completely lost in him.
Before you know it, he’s lifting you just slightly off your toes as he walks you backward, guiding you toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. You smile against his lips, a giggle escaping you as you're blindly led to the other room.
You feel the edge of the mattress against the backs of your knees, and with a gentle nudge, he eases you down onto the bed. He follows, his weight settling over you as he props himself on his elbows, careful not to crush you but close enough that his warmth surrounds you. His lips find yours again, this time with a little more urgency, a softness tempered with a raw need, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of you in every kiss, every touch.
You lose yourself in him, your hands wandering over his back, pulling him closer, feeling his heartbeat against you as he deepens the kiss, lips tracing down to your jaw and lingering along your neck, leaving soft, reverent kisses that make your breath hitch. His fingers thread through your hair, holding you gently as he looks down, taking a moment to soak in the sight of you lying there beneath him.
“An angel,” he whispers, bringing his lips back to your neck, his kisses soft and warm, with his teeth grazing sensitive places that send goosebumps across your skin. His hand slips from your hair and slides under the shirt you stole from him, your bare body arching instinctively to meet his touch. His hand rests on your waist, memorizing every curve, and he groans as he leans into you, desperate to be closer.
Your hands are hurried as you tug away the last of each other’s sleepwear, bodies heated and hungry against one another. He pulls you on top of him, your hips straddling him as he looks up at you with reverence.
"Beautiful," he says, accent always thicker when he's full of desire.
“Could say the same thing,” you whisper, slipping off him to lie between his legs, your hands finding his warm, ready cock. He sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers wrap around him, his head falling back against the pillows when you brush your thumb over the tip. Your other hand stretches along his stomach, resting along the trail of hair that curls there. You press soft, wet kisses along his length, his whimpers growing needier as you tease him until finally, you bring him to your mouth, tongue tracing over the precum. Murphy’s head lifts, his stormy blue eyes fixed on you, filled with raw need. A small smirk plays on your lips before you take him completely, cheeks hollowing as you pull him deep.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his gaze locked on your face, taking in every detail. You moan around him, loving the weight of him between your lips, eager to draw more sounds from him. Your hand moves where your mouth doesn’t reach, mirroring the motion of your head as you glide along his cock. His fingers tangle in your hair, gently guiding your pace, and you let him, loving his control even in its gentleness. With a sudden movement, you surprise him, taking him to the back of your throat, and his hips buck as you gag slightly around him.
"Christ, I’m sorry, angel,” he says breathlessly as you lift your mouth from him, cracking a smile,"Lord's name in vain, Murph--"
His hand moves to cup your jaw, his thumb grazing your swollen bottom lip. “Tha's what confession's fer, now c'mere,” he murmurs, sitting up and drawing your face to his. His lips crash into yours, tongues sliding together as your moans mix with his. He presses you down onto the bed, settling beside you. One hand cups your face with reverence, while the other glides along your body, tracing the sensitive skin of your breast. His touch makes you shiver, and he gently twists your nipple, pulling a soft whimper from your lips. Your eyes flutter shut as his mouth replaces his fingers, his tongue soothing the sensitive bud while his hand wanders further down. His fingers trail along your thigh, encouraging your legs to open and he brushes the pads of his fingers along the inside of your thighs, teasingly close, making you arch toward him.
"Murph," A soft, breathy moan escapes your lips, barely a whisper, but it’s filled with everything you're feeling in that moment, an aching need for him. Your back lifts from the bed, hips just barely undulating in the air, desperate for anything.
“Yes, my angel?” he murmurs, releasing your other nipple he had moved to.
“Please,” you whimper, but he stills his fingers, drawing a soft whine from you.
“Please what, my love?” he teases, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.
“I need—I need…” you struggle, voice trembling with need.
“Use your words,” he chuckles, low and rough, letting his fingers barely graze closer.
“Murphy, I swear to god—”
"Lord's name is vain, sweetheart," his smirk twitching his cheek, and as you're about to snap back, your words cut off as he presses two fingers against your wet heat, your eyes rolling back as he groans, feeling your arousal coating his fingers. His fingers return, gliding over your clit in slow circles, moving at a maddening pace that leaves you breathless. Your hand grips his face, pulling him in for a kiss as you whimper and moan against his mouth. He slips his fingers inside you, hooking them just right, and you gasp, your mouth falling open as his tongue brushes along your top lip, coaxing every reaction out of you.
“My God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with raw need as his gaze locks on your flushed face. You pull yourself together long enough to deepen the kiss again, rocking your hips against his fingers. He hooks and scissors his digits, working you with precision as his thumb grazes your clit, making your entire body tremble.
Just as you feel yourself nearing the edge, he pulls his fingers out, and you whine, your body thrumming with anticipation as he moves between your legs.
“Can’t wait any longer,” he says, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. His hands slip beneath you, holding you tightly as he pushes inside, his cock meeting no resistance against your wetness. He groans deeply, his voice roughening into a growl as he bottoms out and his teeth find the sensitive juncture of your shoulder and neck. He bites down as he withdraws almost to the tip, then thrusts back in with a force that has you crying out. His lips travel along your neck, leaving a trail of wet, hot kisses as he moves against you. Every thrust feels like more than just the physical; it’s as if you’re weaving into each other’s souls, binding in ways words could never capture.
"My beautiful fuckin' angel," His breath catches, a low, throaty sound escaping him as his lips hover close to your ear, rough and heated. "So fuckin' perfect, like your cunt was made fer me, eh?"
“Oh god, Murph—” you gasp, a desperate sound slipping from you as he groans, and your hips lift to meet his. His hand moves from around your back to slide between you, his fingers finding your clit again. He pulls the hood back, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in circles that make your eyes widen. He smirks, almost blasphemously, as he watches you, his fingers working expertly. You let out a shuddering sigh, every nerve on fire, your hands pressing against his chest as you feel yourself cresting. I's too much, too overwhelming, too much too much too much as pleasure skyrockets in you, and you're moaning his name as he continues his thrusts, slower now to let you concentrate.
"Come on, dove, let me see you. Let me feel tha' sweet pussy cum all over me cock," he says, almost under his breath he is breathing so hard. Your fingers dig into his flesh as he sucks in air, "Tha's it, right there, come on,"
Your body obeys, arching against him as the first waves of your climax hit, your muscles tightening around him as stars burst behind your closed eyes. He groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release, pulling out just in time. He strokes himself, and with a low growl, he spills over your thigh, his voice a hoarse, reverent chant of your name.
As the euphoria settles, he collapses beside you, drawing you close, his breath warm against your skin. The two of you lie there, tangled together, the world outside forgotten.
"Gonna need to put on another pot of coffee," you groan, a breathy laugh against his chest as you roll over onto him.
He lets out a contented sigh, his fingers running through your hair. “As long as you bring that coffee right back here, I’ll allow it.”
#take a shot every time he says angel#dont actually do that#sorry I got a little hyperfixated#murphy macmanus x reader#murphy x reader#murphy macmanus#norman reedus#norman reedus fanfiction#boondocks saints#murphy one shot smut#murphy x reader smut#murphy macmanus smut
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breaking: old man trying to visit his family for Christmas after four months on the ocean viciously attacked the second he steps through the door, more at five
#[stan voice] i think you kids have got it confused my name is grunkle stan not jungle gym#you CANNOT convince me that the twins didn’t ensure that the grunkles were invited to the Pines holiday party#dw Ford gets an equally enthusiastic greeting he’s just getting stuff out of the car at the moment this pic was taken#don’t ask me how the extended family found out about the whole secret-assumed-dead-twin-brother situation i do not have an answer#let’s just assume that everyone has accepted whatever lie they were presented with and moved on :P#sorry to hit you with a christmas thing in september. inspiration waits for no man#gravity falls#dipper pines#mabel pines#stan pines#grunkle stan#gravity falls fanart#my art#don’t follow me for gf stuff i’m probably not doing more#ok maybe a little bit more we’ll see where the hyperfixation leads
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Welcome home little hero, we've been waiting for you for a very long time!!
#legend of zelda#echoes of wisdom#princess zelda#the princess of legend#maybe???#i will change this if its not#kokiri art club#rei 💜#sorry for not posting this earlier we got hyperfixated on my little pony out of nowhere#dont tag as ship
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i feel like im going insane
#fantasy high#d20#dimension 20#d20 fantasy high#gorgug thistlespring#ragh barkrock#thistlerock#goragh#yeah sure i will feed this ship#i have more fantasy high art i just have been drawing gorgug a lot and particularly liked this one a lot#i watched ep 16 (not normal about ep 16)#did you know gorgug has two hands#PS I DONT KNOW WHAT HAPPENED WHILST DRAWING GORGUG HE LOOKS SO DIFFERENT FROM HIS OFFICIAL ART#IDK MAN. I LIKE DRAWING HIM THAT WAY#he gets more hair added on the more i draw him#the most bi disaster ever#i feel a little self conscious but im allowed to be happy sometimes. ehatever.my joy#oh god. what else was i gonna say. oh right guess who got hyperfixated on another d&d show#and i latched onto the character who gets called a freak all the time i wonder what that says about m#sorry. sorry. sorr#WHAT ALSO GETS ME IS THAT THEY WWRE BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF EACHOTHER MOMENTS BEFORE THIS#im so ready for season two (<- is not ready)#potatart
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MY FAVORITE GUY !!!!
Started off as a doodle, ended up actually shading 💀
CLOSE UPS:
#qsmp#pactw#qsmp pac#I FINALLY GOT A DESIGN DOWN FOR HIM#i've been meaning to properly draw him but i just couldn't get that design down#also. yes that is tangotek.#i didn't tag him because this is mainly about pac but like. he's there#a nice little treat for anyone who recognizes him#yeah i realized i had a new hyperfix and one of my first instincts is to immediately combine it with an old one...#so! life series x qsmp! kind of#missa would've been with jimmy and bagi would've been with cleo if anyone cares about that#i just got tired and couldn't will myself to draw them rn#maybe in the morning#sorry. ramble over now.#my art
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For your femboy liking a-
HDGFHSDFKHJGF I WANNA DEVOUR HIM SO BADDD- HE'S SO GOOD YOU COULD EAT HIM UP- HIS DEER TAILLL
I can't figure out what those red spots on his back and arms supposed to be tho. I love your art a lot btw!!!
(I am unhealthily obsessed with this deer-man.)
"Thank you for the dress, deer!"
#if you draw any more I think I might just go insane#SORRY BUT YOU JUST GOT IN MY WAY#I PROMISE HONEY I CAN FEEL YOUR PAIN#AND MAYBE I ENJOY IT JUST A LITTLE BIT DOES THAT MAKE ME INSANE!?#please don't underestimate the power of an autistic person's hyperfixations...#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanart#hazbin hotel#art#my art#digital art#hazbin fanart
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'he looked like a boy masquerading as a gentleman' girl he got turned when he was like, 5 years younger than you what are you talking abouttt
#sorry i cant stop thinking abt the fact they made armand 27 when he got turned its like. why would you do that#i think early 20s wouldve been way better for him... just my two cents 🤓#when you get to the hyperfix stage where you start picking apart every little detail. in my case its timelines.......#he was 17 when marius turned him in the books btw#piksla.txt#iwtv
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kiritetsu au where they just have a podcast. they have a podcast and talk about dumb shit. also they act VIOLENTLY bromantical
#kiritetsu#mha#bnha#kirishima x tetsutetsu#tetsutetsu tetsutetsu#tetsukiri#sorry for being dead guys#ive been MAD busy#mad busy being GAY!!!!#aka someone got a little crushy crush and stopped thinking about their hyperfixations for two months#whoops#ill try to post better and more elaborate ideas i promise
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alright here's the essay under the cut.
entirely just my experience w/ MASH, almost no editing [just spelling mistakes and a few apostrophe misuses]. fair warning, my father was [is] an alcoholic and a horrible person, and i mention that a bit, so if thats something you're sensitive to, bewarned.
My story with M*A*S*H begins a hundred years ago when I was somewhere between 5 and 8, old enough to watch television but not old enough to remember how old I was when I was doing it. The childhood I had was overall unremarkable, marred only by my pitiful excuse for a father that parented by either drinking or being hungover on the couch in between screaming at his children or beating his wife. Unfortunately, he is part of this story, but only accidentally. See, he used to do all that stuff in our unfinished basement, on an old ugly couch, hiding from his family all day. Then, eventually, he decided he liked the couch and television upstairs better, and plagued the family room for many years instead, putting whatever he wanted to watch on instead of letting his children watch cartoons. I ended up liking The Three Stooges quite a lot, less out of actually thinking it was fun and more out of it being the only thing he’d put on that I found remotely entertaining, so I was taking what I could get. We kept the old burned CDs he’d made of them after he moved out.
Anyway. My mother had (and still has) a television in her room (it used to be their room, but she kicked him out) that she could avoid him with. Not wanting to be around the violent cesspool of a person on my couch, I’d sometimes crawl to her room, so as not to let him see me and have him make me come over and listen to some music or whatever he wanted. Old guitarist reliving his glory days or something, I couldn’t tell you. But anyway, I’d enter her room and sit down on her bed with her or on the floor, and we’d watch TV. More often than not, she’d put on MeTV, because she watched those old shows with her own father, and it was a bright spot in her memory that gave her some escapism too. There were a lot of shows on there, but I only really ever remembered things like Gilligan’s Island, ALF, Columbo, Bewitched, The Twilight Zone, and, of course, M*A*S*H.
I liked the other shows, of course. I remember them fondly, especially Gilligan’s Island, maybe it was the catchy theme song with words I could learn. I didn’t like how brown and gross Columbo was, but my mom explained that that’s just how it looked back then. I thought the puppet on ALF was funny, and The Twilight Zone scared me, but I was still interested. I remember enough of Bewitched to remember the nose wiggle and constantly mix it up with I Dream of Jeannie for some reason. Really, anything was better than watching the same episode of Farscape again, which I’ve heard is actually a very good show, but my father kept forgetting that he’d already made me start watching it, and so every viewing session was just the pilot. That’s also the reason I never learned Spanish.
But then I got to M*A*S*H. I won’t lie to you and say that, as a wizened 5-to-8-year-old, I could ‘tell something was special’ about this show. It was a show. It was a show that I remember looking at my mom during, and seeing her really happy. Later she told me, after watching it with me in present day, that she would watch it with her own father, before her parents got divorced. Her father more or less was not present in her life after the split, and that happened when she was 14-ish. The show started airing when she was the age I was when I watched it with her, and she and her father made a weekly thing of it. Neither of us at that age should have watched it, but for both of us, it was forming a little bright spot in our minds, a good dream with a parent when times were tough.
I remember laughing, even if I didn’t get all the jokes. I remember thinking I liked the shade of red one of the characters wore, and also the shade of dark blue the same character wore sometimes. I remember one or both of my siblings being there sometimes, laughing along. One of my siblings told me recently that B.J. Hunnicutt and John ‘Trapper’ McIntyre, both filling roles as doubles partners for Benjamin Franklin ‘Hawkeye’ Pierce, had merged into the same person in their memory. I thought that was hilarious; how could they ever think those were the same person! B.J. Hunnicutt had a mustache! Imagine my surprise re-watching season 4’s opener, ‘Welcome to Korea’, featuring a clean-cut fresh-faced Mike Farrell, lacking the horse brush I had so clearly remembered him housing under his nose.
But the rewatching, yes, the rewatching. It started innocently enough. Between breaks at college, far beyond my young-youth, the real youth people mean when they use that word, my mother opened it up on the tv and put it on. No matter what era you go to in our household, the TV was always going. Most of the time no one was watching it, sometimes blatantly, loudly, explosively chattering and guffawing and gasping with our own business and ignoring it entirely. It was background noise, we all needed it, so we always had it. But something a little strange happened; my mother was watching it, as she often did when she put something on in the evenings to massage her brain to bed after a long day at work. I was typing away at something on my laptop, like I am now, sitting on the couch with her, which I am also doing now (although she’s long gone to bed), and I looked up.
I saw Hawkeye.
It didn’t feel like a rush of emotion, it didn���t feel like something important was happening. That was just my old friend. Looking absolutely horrible with the haircut he was rocking in the pilot, but I remembered him. The pilot doesn’t open with the theme, as I recognized that as soon as it played, it opens with golf, a little vignette of the camp before the choppers come in with wounded. I saw Hawkeye, I saw his shirt, and it really was like when you see an old friend, one you can’t really remember what all you did with, or where you met, or even each other’s names anymore, but you know they mean something to you. You knew this person, and you liked them, you liked them enough that even though you forgot everything else, you remember the love that was there.
And it was a very small thing that happened, and it didn’t happen with every episode, but I would pause my music. My own background noise to drown out everyone else’s background noise, blasting into my headphones. I’d pause my music, read the subtitles, hear them faintly through muffled ears, and laugh along. Smile when I’d see a smile, and a little more than half pay attention.
I went back to college, life went on, we only got maybe to the beginning of season two, but my mom didn’t continue without me. She waited, and eventually, I came home for the summer, summer of 2024.
She put it on again, and the same thing happened. But this time, I way more than half paid attention. I really paid attention. By the time we got to Abyssinia, Henry, I completely paused whatever I was doing when it was on and sat, laptop open, head at a 45 degree angle to watch the TV. I’d still futz around during commercial breaks, but I waited for the commercial breaks to do anything now. More and more it warmed my heart, to see all these old friends I’d forgot about, drag them all out of the closet, finally see B.J. Hunnicutt with that stupid mustache again for the first time in over 15 years at least—it was all so amazing. I was laughing at this show that came out over 20 years before I was even born. My parents hadn’t even met yet when this thing ended. Then, of course, because of the way my brain unfortunately works, it is now all I can think about it, to the point I’ve convinced several people to watch it just by virtue of never-shutting-the-hell-up.
And then? I finally got to see all my friends go home.
I remember the night I watched the finale with my mother. We’d gotten to the penultimate episode, and we’d paused. It was near 8ish, near my mother’s bedtime, and she and I both agreed we could not handle the finale that night, it was too much. And so we put on something, My Name is Earl, anything to make noise, something funny, something light. That’s how the next several days went; do we feel like we can handle the end? No. Tonight? Maybe tomorrow. Maybe after dinner? It was a long day.
But then, after dishes had been cleared and we were both sitting quietly, the sun had already gone down, and she proposes we watch it.
So we did.
I don’t cry at things anymore. I used to cry all the time as a kid, scraped knee, called an idiot by a sibling, way too much crying even for a kid. I got it out of my system, apparently, because now I’m an adult and I have trouble with making tears, and when they do come, they sneak up on me. The last time I remember crying was at my grandmother’s funeral, months ago, and before that, I have no idea. I get misty-eyed, sure, but nothing makes me boohoo.
The same held for the finale. Contrasted heavily by my mother, the woman that regularly cries at especially-touching commercials, shedding a few for every other scene (the bus revelation, the final meal, Charles’s music adventure finale, the wedding dress, every single goodbye, and of course the big one at the end), I was mostly quiet. I remember it ending, and thinking, well, that was about the best finale I’d ever seen. I also thought about how I’d seen strikingly few finales, and that I ought to see more series through til the end. I spoke with my mother a bit about it, we had some good moments from the program tossed back and forth, and she went to bed.
Then I took a shower, and after I got out, the floodgates busted. I was boohooing alright, blubbering too, but I couldn’t point to why. Sure, there were moments in the episode worthy of tears, but this was full sobbing, aching and pitiful and messy. I just left it as something not to worry about, and went on. Since then, on my own, I’ve rewatched select episodes, watched the finale (again) with the sibling that confused Trapper and B.J., done three paintings of stills from the show, made a miniature version of the signpost for my mom, and started writing again for the express purpose of doing things with these characters, and I’ve only now put a fine point on it. It’s a threefold answer of why I fell apart leaving the shower after watching an episode of television that aired 40 years ago.
The first is simple; I have got it in my head that I need to be alright for everyone. If I’m happy, then everything is okay. I think it’s a relic from what made me stop crying, this need to tell everyone, “Hey, I’m the crybaby, so if I’m okay, then really, everything is okay!” My tears are (were) meant to be shed in private. They were my own cross to bear, especially for places like the bathroom where I could get privacy, as I shared a room with a sibling growing up. This is something I’m getting better about.
The second answer is very warm; I finished M*A*S*H with my mom. I remember my grandfather, though he wasn’t too present in my life, and I loved him. He passed when I was young, but I was old enough to remember him, and his death date is near my birthday. My birthday is actually near a lot of either death-dates or birthdays of people that are now dead that my mom loved very much, so I am constantly reminded that my birth is the only good thing that happens to her that month. Finishing the show with her was special. We did it. It’s a tradition now. I don’t plan to have kids, but the future may be strange. At the very least, I know at least one sibling does, so I’ll just have to make sure their kids watch it, too. I don’t have anything of my grandfather’s, his family wasn’t kind to mine and took pretty much everything when he died, but now I have this show. And I have this with my mother. It keeps my heart warm.
And lastly, the thing responsible for the most boohooing, is that, like I said; I got to see my friends go home.
I didn’t really think about it hard, but these were my little friends. I couldn’t remember them, but I remembered that I loved them. That they were something that made me happy, and made my very sad mother happy when I was little. They were funny, they were going through a very bad time and they were still being nice to each other and doing their best. They laughed, cried, cried some more, laughed some more. They drank, but in a safer way than what I knew of it at home, so it felt okay. They hugged, they fought, they loved each other. Then they were locked away in a little memory in my heart, and they sat there for over a decade, nearly two. And then those lovely people that made my life a little bit better finally, finally,
Got to go home.
A catharsis.
Everything isn’t perfect, but all of us are somewhere better now. We have new problems. We have old scars. But the big bad is over. A little part of me healed. It was okay, finally. They got home. It’s okay.
And if I can pick up a show from the 70’s about the 50’s that’s also still about the 70’s and the Vietnam war about all war that’s also about love and family and surgery with a cast that’s almost all gone now that so painfully soldered its place in my heart that watching the end of it all put me in a puddle on the floor of my bathroom at 11 at night, if I can wait 15 years and still manage to rouse these old soldiers and send them home, a little cracked but finally safe,
I think B.J. Hunnicutt can drive those 3,000 miles to a little place in Maine to see his best friend.
#mash#mash 4077#m*a*s*h#mashblr#mashblogging#sorry gamers we're in our feels this morning just like we were at 2 am last night#it also helps explain why im riding this hyperfixation so hard. not only am i unmedicated#but also this show has a lot of latent emotions for me entangled with memories i didnt remember til recently#writing fanfic got my brain on the Writing train again and at roughly 1:20ish last night i started writing and couldnt stop#finally went to bed at around 2:10 am. way too late for me 1 is already pushing it#didnt tell anyone abt the bathroom thing after the finale and lied to my family that i didnt cry cause i was embarrassed#but we workin on that. we're getting Better#but yeah if its not legible i Apologize its just Me Brain with No Edits and Little Thought#and also 1-2 am so. not the sharpest. hence repeated phrases#godspeed god bless crags fail to trip your feet etc etc smooches#.yappin
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I just showed my cousin the picture of mike nesmith’s giant fucking ass and she replied in a monotone voice: “oh. that’s… cool. that’s… so real.”
#mike nesmith#she’s so disappointed in me guys#she just got done trauma dumping to me and i’m like ‘hey so i need to talk about mike nesmith’s big butt because i have a hyperfixation’#and yes… tonight the hyperfixation is mike#and you may be like ‘yeah is that new?’ but the hyperfixation is specifically on little strange mike nesmith intricacies that are always in#my mind but i don’t always FIXIATE on#like usually i do this with micky and mike is just my entire being but tonight it’s mike#like his big bum is one of the silly things and another is his emo fucking daughter and how much she looks like michael’s mother#like she really does it makes me cry i am not related to these people i do not know them but i care for the nesmith’s so deeply cause monkee#like she looks like her grandmother!! i can totally see phyllis in her but all mikes kids got his vibe#lil baby mikes#and his mother came out in his daughter !! genetics !!!#sorry for the rant in the tags if anyone sees this. i just love monkees so much#it’s like nothing i’ve ever loved before except maybe scooby doo when i was 6-9 years old
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one day i am like. going to seriously hyperfixate on spongebob again and everyone who follows me is gonna get subjected to serious bob fanart . i love that sponge!!!!!
#bee babbles#spongebob#genuine like. idek if its a special interest but ohhh its so dear to me#hyperempathy for spongebob squarepants Exclusively. for all my life. every time he cried id cry#if i start making spongebob fanart u all have to be nice to him#ive been thinking abt him recently cuz i watched that yt vid ranking episodes#im just like wow. guys i love that sponge. hes literally so kind forever and is full of joy and whimsy#sorry ive got bob autism'#last time i hyperfixated on it was when i was like Little. and id come home from school and put s1 on the dvd player all afternoon#TAG FLOOD. SORRY. im normal abt that sponge.
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so a lil heads up!! that i will probably be very scarce/quiet until monday! despite my efforts to juggle everything, this weekend is just busy and it's got me pretty tired. thank you for being patient with me and pls have a very lovely pre-halloween weekend!!
#on a side note i devoured the second book in the shadow and bone trilogy and it's got me YELLING!!!!#kinda sorta wanna add nikolai but in classic bel fashion i feel the need to read everything involving him before i ever do that#and i found out this guy's got a duology?? haha : ) i'm about to run through ruin and rising so quickly#the guy is just my kinda character -- someone who changes their personality for each situation and hides their true thoughts??#sounds familiar :' ))#i also wanna make an oc but i dunno!! tbh as much as i love the series i wouldn't know how to even enter that fandom#bc no way am i making a whole other blog when i know i can barely manage one asdfg#and my attempts to enter a non anime/manga fandom didn't go very well this last time with my multi#don't really wanna repeat the experience tbh uvu#ANYWAY sorry for rambling in the tags so much asdfg i'm just maybe a little or a lot hyperfixated on the grishaverse rn :' )#definitely a comfort when i've been so tired lately#get ready to ramble | ooc
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girl its so embarrassing but i love jonmartin so fucking much i havent cared this much about a ship since like. high school
#NOTHING COMPETES#guys its really bad that i got a new hyperfixation while in a bit of a rough period mental health wise#because MAMA MIA!!! THATS A GOOD ESCAPISM!!#i think i might. i think i might still be manic? its a little hard to tell. it can sometimes last more than just a day for me#sorry im bipolar posting abit#sometimes ur just having a fucking moment#its weird right because like. knowing im manic doesnt stop the manic. like i didnt know but now i do but i cant stop it! i would like to !#but at least i have my escapism lmao#kara stop blogging#ANYWAYS back to jonmartin#yeah theyre literally so romance. for the past several years i havent really been reading romance fics/interacting with any ship fanworks#like art or whatever#not intensely anyway#not out of a dislike? just a general disinterest. not sure why! just havent been in the mood? i guess?#but holyyyyyyyyyy fuck jonmartin is like. you are a 13 year old girl who just discovered shipping on tumblr for the first time again#I KNOW ITS A HORROR PODCAST BUT#LIKE COME ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN#the characters are just so! FUCKING! GOOD#i also ADORED daisy and basira's dynamic#wough. okay ill shut up now#tma#also these fucking tags are like legit proof that the tags on my personal posts are just full on incomprehensible diary at this point. bye
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WIP files game
RULES: post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! tag as many people as you have WIPs
i got tagged in this a looong while back and i cannot remember by who so i apologize ): i was looking through my drafts and was Reminded
(something something "recoil") -- silly leoichi curse/chatfic thingie
origami ghost au
casey jr seratello future "drabble" (for atty)
casey jr post-movie oneshot (working title: casey jr's 10-step battle strategy to defeating "the big sad" [citations included])
event horizon // chernobyl still burns
uhhh ye olde midwestern gothic type deal? (with ninjas)
aaaand thats... all i can think of lmao
no pressure tags:
@noodlenoodlenoodlenoodle @ironinkpen @whatareyoudoingwithamaserati @crows-murder @nyaranyaranya @skyline-sunset-in-my-veins
#rottmnt#fics#these are all rottmnt wips haha#sorry the hyperfixation is strong#i hesitate to put the last one on here bc i do not actually have anything “concrete” for that#just the vibe i'm imagining for it haha#all my fics kinda have an “aesthetic” associated with them lmao#got these from my notes app and google drive B)#i am actually and actively working on the top one#idk if i'll publish anything for it but it's good to have a side thing to do along with my bigger projects ('iwf' lmao)#so i dont burn myself out on them#i am branching out i am forcing myself to tag my “famous” mutuals more often okay#(idk what you guys are doing here but o: i am very excited to chill w/you guys a little)#also if you've been tagged for this before feel free to ignore haha
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i have homework but i just spent an hour organized my bookmarks on ao3 >:) so now i have a lil public collection of my fav agere fics and series yayay
#emmy talks#🍊#it’s all nice and organized now im so pleased!!!!#i have a weird habit of privating like all of my bookmarks idk WHY but i went through and unprivated th agere ones i liked#and added them to a collection#so now!! it’s all organized!! and i don’t have to search through the mess of my bookmarks to find smth specific#some of them are so dated tho like i went through and deleted a BUNCH#like 2 years ago when i was hyperfixated on hannibal and had a bunch of agere stuff bookmarked but I DIDNF KNOW THEY HAD AGEPL*Y UNDERTONES#LIKE AT ALL :( AND I DIDNF REALIZED UNTIL NOW AND FELT SOOO GROSS AFTER#bc i thought it was just. wholesome little will graham :( but NOOOO i don’t read tags i GUESS UHG#anyways i got grossed out and deleted a big chunk of my book#marks#oh my hod sorry for rambling i don’t think anyone cares but i like gotta talk
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ok wait rlly quick let me get this out of my system
UUEUEIDUFHCHDJSKSKWOWOXCSJSKFJFFUUUYUCKKK BKOOIUBWJEIOFJF NOUUGGGHGHGHGHFHH THE FUCKING TRAGEDY OF THIS. NOOIUGGHGH. MR PUCKETT I CARE YOU. I CARE YOU SO MUCH. GOD. FUCK. THE TRAGEDY OF PARENTING.
ALSO YOURE SO STUPID WHY DID YOU GAVE THIS TALK IN THE BALLPIT ARCADE KID CASINO LASER ARENA.
I’m thinking so hard abt Max’s, “as much as his dad’s goofy side annoyed him, seeing him serious like this was way worse.”
Oh to be a single dad of two, woefully aware of your shortcomings but trying ur hardest to care for and support ur kids. But your kid is pushing your help away because he doesn’t want to see you hurt, because he’s already lost one parent and he doesn’t want to lose the second.
UEUEUEUEUFIFISKWKELFOFIOFJVOKNWNWNEHRD AAAAUUUGGHGHGHGH
ok now we r back to ur normally scheduled programming (dndads content)
#cal rambles#i got sized by the throat by a returning hyperfix and had the pure mania fuel me to 3 am and then I crashed bc I realized my nostalgia#was messing with me a little maybe#i still fucking love mr Puckett though this only reinforced that#but unfortunately I don’t think we’re gonna see much of him again soon 😔#OUGH. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH#HIS FUCKING. TALK WITH MAX#Ouugghh OUUUGGHGHFHH#ok but I think after I sleep I will be ok#👍#sorry for my pnat relapse#it happens sometimes tehe
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