#shitpost filled with anxiety and stupid thoughts

[s1yfox14]

I realized a second ago that I am semi to almost fully anonymous on this platform and reblog so much shit that anything i say will most definitely be lost so i can just dump my thoughts here. Why didn't i think of this sooner.

some of the thoughts i've had today:

i should stop playing the 24 hour game of "what happened 24 hours ago" and "where will I be in 24 hours" the answer to both of those should be in bed and sleeping if I should be sleeping right now instead of letting the insomnia take over after getting into bed.

i was having a rough morning the other day but pretended i was fine when my friend asked me how i was doing. when i was clearly not fine but its okay im good at hiding it.

I also mayyyy have insulted another friend by acknoledging their presence after they had told me they wouldnt be coming to school but changed their mind. I was simply surprised. Good surprised. But words are hard and it probably definetely did not come across that way. anyways im still thinking about it.

I should also start asking my one friend's pronouns more often. Their pronouns change and I keep on forgetting to do so. and i also need to do more nice things instead of just letting others do nice things.

when i was tired the other day i made the decision to use my friends as a podcast while i half doze off, causing me to follow them around. it always felt like they were leaving semi-soon after i reentered the space (probably me exaggerating i have no feel for time whatsoever). I somehow feel like I shouldnt have done that. Even when I didnt say anything. Its probably just anxiety tho.

My friend said I remind them of a dandelion. I accepted what I believe was a compliment in the moment - they are always nice to me and wouldnt have a reason to randomly insult me as far as im aware. My brain decided that they meant I was a weed. I can't stop thinking about it and then thinking about how irrational that thought is before going back to thinking about the possibility of my friend hating me.

which makes zero sense.

i need to consistently use the medication I have been prescribed I'm really not good at that.

I am in pain more often than I should be as a child.

I have an exam tomorrow that I have done 0 null zilch no prep for and it will probably go horribly.

i didnt sleep well last night I wonder what will happen tonight.

was i annoying in that cat meet and greet i did today? probably but the cat got adopted so it doesnt matter.

that one woman has some odd spiritual beliefs but they seem to work out for her so props i guess.

im tired. and i should stop watching true crime.

I havent made my lunch for tomorrow. I should skip all my classes tomorrow. but also im excited for tomorrow.

one of my friends wished me good luck on my exam. another friend who had an exam today i wished good luch yesterday and they havent responded. a different friend said their exam yesterday went well.

i dont know what to do with any of this information.

[sygneth]

IMPORTANT (TW&INDEXES)

First things first:

Don't hesitate to ask me things, DM me or suggest drawings, I don't bite (usually).

DON'T repost my art without credits, reblogs are very appreciated. You can use it for personal purposes (icon, wallpaper in ur phone, printing it out and eating putting on your fridge ect.) (and if it's the icon/header/ect. kinda thing please credit me).

If you are here for art only, you may be interested in my art archive sideblog @sygneth-archives

About me (meet the artist): 2023 - 2024

WARNINGS

I am and will be posting content that is not suitable for children and sensitive people. My current and future posts for both fandom stuff and OC content may directly include or mention topics such as:

graphic violence, death

mild gore; body horror, blood

swearwords, slurs (censored), in-universe slurs for fandoms

anxiety, depression and other mental disorders and their consequences

suicidal thoughts, suicide

abusive relationships, toxic relationships, trauma

sexual jokes/talk, suggestive talk and posing, soft NSFW content (occasional frontal nudity but rather not in sexualised way)

use and abuse of alcohol, cigarettes and other substance

addiction, co-addiction, codependence and people not always dealing with them the right way

If you don't want to see this kind of content, please unfollow me or consider taking some measures that will help you filter out those posts. Stay safe.

Second things second:

BLOG INDEX

I'm a multifandom mess and I'm not in charge of whatever my brain decided that I am going to hyperobsess over. Fortunately my obssessions rather stack than die away so sooner or later I will probably come back to whatever era you've found me at.

My recurring topics are for sure Undertale/Deltarune, ACD Sherlock, Good Omens, Disco Elysium, and whetever else that I forgot to mention.

I am currently handling a few projects:

ACTIVE:

Echoes of Elysium (a Disco Elysium comic where Harry tries to stay sober and sort out his relationship with people, set directly after the events from game, with some retrospections) - AO3 - ComicFury - INFO - Page 1

Sherlock Holmes and Victor Trevor College Adventures (a short comic series about friendship/QPR between the two of them, retelling/filling in the events from the story) AO3 - Masterpost - Chapter 1 (finished) - Chapter 2 (finished) - Chapter 3 (in the making)

HIATUS (let me believe I'll come back to them):

Postcards from Revachol (a postcard series + my thoughts to it, where I paint over my photos of my hometown bc it reminds me of Revachol and here is why)

Postapo Disco Inferno (a stupid silly AU where I do not think too much. Revachol got bombed 20 years earlier and Harry, Kim & Jean have a dog Dolores) - here

Sonnaá (my OC universe that may turn into something with some chronology one day)

Aside from those I am sometimes drawing or writing unrelated things in mentioned fandoms or in other fandoms too.

General tags:

#my art , #my writing - the names say it all

#holmes collage adventures - a mini-series exploring Holmes' and Victor Trevor's friendship

#echoes of elysium - for the Echoes comic

#echoes talking - for the Echoes lore

#postapo disco inferno - for postapo silly content & Dolores the dog

#jeanalysis, #jeanposting - special tags for a special man

#conversations with the void - my shitpost tag

#[fandom] scribbles, #[fandom] talking, #[fandom] meta, #[fandom] analysis - pretty self explainatory, I assume (including them here to keep the order)

Tags for other things are generally corresponding but forgive me if I suck at keeping them in order (I probably do).

Third things third: If i come up with anything else, I will update this pinned post. Have a nice day!

[cosplayspacepirate]

Tag Game!

I was tagged by @kanzukikarin , I’m sorry it took me so long to do this! Thank you for tagging me sweetheart!

1. why did you choose your url?

When I first made my blog I was way more active in cosplaying and also at the same time I was obsessed with an anime about lesbian space pirates so I just combined the name and that what ive been using on pretty much any social media site.

2. any sideblogs?

I have a post pinned on my blog that lists the names of each blog but i do have a couple of side blogs tho the most active ones im on are my kpop side blog and a blog i have for darker aesthics/occasional venting. (Though I try hard not to vent much cus i know it can trigger others. Everthing is always tagged of course)

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

 About 7 Years.

4. do you have a queue tag?

Yes everything under the tag ‘fak queue’ is queued.

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

 I honestly dont remember I’m pretty sure it was because my friends all had one and we all liked similar things. Plus I wasn’t very active on other social media site.

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

 I just thought it was very pretty and i felt like i needed a fresh change from the usual icons i use.

7. why did you choose your header?

 Again I think it was just to match with my icon in a way that i thought looked aesthetically pleasing.

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

 Most definitely some meme about homestuck that i made.

9. how many mutuals do you have?

  93

10. how many followers do you have?

 1,160 (thank you all for putting up with me lol)

11. how many people do you follow?

 601 but I just when through and unfollowed some dead blogs.

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

 Oh definitely I was a homestuck 

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

I’d say that i open the app at least once a day unless life gets really busy.

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

 I mean yes and no I’ve had fights or arguments with friends that i know in my personal life but not someone I’ve never met before or really dont know.

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

 I think they’re kinda stupid just because it causes some people a dumb amount of unnecessarily anxiety. My self included of course.

16. do you like tag games?

 I really do like tag games its just I have trouble filling them out on my phone sometimes since i work all the time and i type faster on my laptop. Which is usually why im so late to fill them out. (Please forgive me mutuals!)

17. do you like ask games?

 I love ask games but I feel like im not interesting enough to get any asks so I usually dont do them much.

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

 There are quite a few that I wonder how the hell they’re following me tbh.

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

 I have like those dumb ‘i want to be your friend’ crushes on my mutuals.

20. tags?

 I tag @echoooohce @friendly-jester @yoonjunghan @angel-type @kisskisskawaii @ichigo-sundae @moonfairyrose @paladinsheart @crochetlesbian @red-skady @bigsoftloser

 Only do it if you want~

[animetrashlord-007]

Tumblr Takeover

Word Count;; 2.2k

Genre;; Fluff

Pairing;; Ushijima x Reader

Summary;;

You groaned as you scrolled through your Tumblr profile, glaring at the content that seemed to have no end. What used to be your messy, themeless blog filled predominantly with anime, nightblogging and the occasional debate, now contained volleyball. Only volleyball.

[The cringe is real, folks]

Notes;; Published: 2017-04-06

My Masterlist

   You groaned as you scrolled through your Tumblr profile, glaring at the content that seemed to have no end. What used to be your messy, themeless blog filled predominantly with anime, shitposting and the occasional debate, now contained volleyball. Only volleyball. You slammed your laptop shut before packing your school supplies and running out the door. Your teacher would never let you hear the end of it if you were late for the third day in a row, even if you tried to pass the blame onto a certain third year. It was his fault after all; he altered your entire blog overnight without asking beforehand, and the early morning discovery put you into a temporary state of shock. You growled and quickened your pace - no sane teacher would accept that excuse and you had no intention of gaining detention because of a volleyball-obsessed dork. Once you reached class (on time, much to your amazement), your irritation faded. As much as you hated to admit, it wasn't his fault. You should have expected this to happen sooner or later. You knew what you were getting into when you shared your account with him. He had told you his intentions at the beginning: Ushijima wanted to share his love of volleyball with you and your poor followers.

   It wasn't like you disliked the sport either; you knew your school’s team well enough to attend their matches (with only mild persuasion necessary on their part) and, while you could see the appeal, it wasn't your first pick for a hobby. In fact, it wouldn't be your second or third pick either, but if you had to choose a sport… you might consider it. In all honesty, the thing you enjoyed most about volleyball was the players. Shiratorizawa’s team was determined and they had talent. Somehow your admiration for their abilities had led you to befriending each of them to different degrees. When you saw Tendou in the halls, you’d yell manga references at one another, each quote becoming more obscure than the last, until the bell rang and you both bolted to class. Goshiki did his best to avoid you after watching you challenge Shirabu to an impromptu dance-off, which, to his horror, his upperclassman accepted. Neither of you were being very serious as you dropped it low and pumped it up, laughing at how stupid you both looked, yet Goshiki claimed to be scarred for life. At lunch most days you pretended to study with Yamagata and Ohira whilst spamming Semi with memes and vine compilations. He once blessed you with a response, and had it not been at two in the morning after a long night of studying, you would have been impressed with the video of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” on loop for ten hours. Never in your life would you have suspected to be Rick Rolled by your senpai, but you weren't one to back down from a challenge. Feeling invigorated, you continued to spam him every chance you got. To his regret, that included sending TED talks about asexual reproduction in various species in the dead of night when you were unable to sleep.

   “I think the real question here is why the hell do you watch videos about animal reproduction at midnight every week?” Semi sighed as he wiped the sweat off his brow before throwing his towel at you.

   “Gross! I don't want your stinky towel!” You snapped, tossing it back. You grimaced as you stretched, the obnoxious cracking of several joints resonated throughout the gym. After being hunched over your textbooks for the first half of their practice, it was nice to stand up and move your tired muscles. Goshiki muttered a protest to your presence under his breath, which you elected to ignore.

   “No way, she still sends those to you?” Tendou bellowed, slapping his friend’s back with a grin. The setter shrugged, shooting you glare before walking back onto the court, leaving you with the middle blocker. His grin fell into a devious smirk upon seeing your narrowed eyes. Knowing full well what his mind was focused on and that he had no intention of letting his inquiry go unanswered, you stalked toward the door. He kept pace with you, poking you as he continued, “You can't avoid it that easily.”

   Feigning naivety, you quipped, “I don't watch them, I just send them to Semi to bug him.”

   “Oh, no, no, you don’t. Not that question, the one before that. Why don't you annoy Ushijima like you do everyone else?”

   You allowed a quick smile to flicker across your features before turning to the boy who was still following you to the door and ignoring his coach’s calls to return to the damn court already. Pure bliss flooded your mind as you pursed your lips, hand lifted over your heart in mock despair as your eyes quivered. Giving yourself a mental pat on the back for being on the verge of tears, you whispered, “I annoy you, Satori-kun?”

   “No! Of course not! I just meant-”

   “I'm sorry, Satori-kun, I'll leave you all alone from now on,” a single tear flowed down your cheek and you just about imploded with pride. Who needs to take theatre courses when you have this much natural talent?

   “No, no! Don't cry!” Looking to his teammates for help, he pointed at you with exasperation. His silent pleas were met with snickers as they each turned their back on the scene.

   On the outside, you were a delicate mess. On the inside, however, you were rejoicing. No longer was his mind on why you acted just a touch different with the team’s ace (since evidently nothing slipped past those maroon eyes of his), but rather on how to stop the waterworks that threatened to break before him. All that was left was to run out of the gym, celebrate your narrow escape, and continue to avoid him until you could formulate a believable excuse. You didn't want him to catch on to the small crush you had developed on Ushijima, but more importantly, you didn't want him to know about your Tumblr. He would never let you live down your low-effort blog after he had shown you his organised manga-themed one. Nevermind the the flack you would receive about how much of a pushover you had become to allow Ushijima full reign over it. Perhaps you could lie and say that the third year intimidated you, so you didn't want to push your luck around him. Maybe fortune would favour you and Tendou would drop the subject completely after this disaster. Knowing him, however, that was unlikely.

   “I'll just go, since I annoy you-”

   “What did you do this time?” A gravelly voice resounded across the room. It sent shivers down your spine as you faced the sound. Ushijima towered over you, a mix between confusion and disappointment aimed toward Tendou. The redhead just laughed before running back onto the court.

   “Hey Wakatoshi-kun, did you finish your exam?” You fumbled with your bag strap as you tried to sidle out of his vision. Much to your dismay, his eyes followed you with an intensity that would make a weaker person crumble.

   “What did he do?” Reiterating his question with a deepening frown, he moved in front of the door and blocked your escape.

   “Oh, you know Tendou-kun. Everything he does is annoying. Well, I've got to go!”

   “Before you leave, did you see our Tumblr? I changed it a little.”

   “A little?” You repeated, bitterness tainting the smile you flashed toward him, “You changed it more than a little, Ushijima-kun. My favourite part of it would have to be the ask from a mutual about why I'm suddenly a volleyball blog, and if I'm sharing my account because it seemed even more all over the place than usual and I just loved waking up to a new theme as well. Yes, it was very nice, Ushiwaka-kun, very nice.”

   “You should try regulating your breathing, you look flustered. I am glad you liked it, however. I spent a decent amount of time on it,” he nodded, brushing past you to join his team in their practice. Unbelievable.

   “Oi, you! We're not done here! I'll be calling you tonight, so, uh, prepare yourself!” You shouted after him, huffing at his thumbs-up. A tinge of pink painted the tips of your ears when Semi and Shirabu smirked at you, which bloomed into a full blush at Tendou’s, “You can call on him anytime!”

   The rest of the day whirled by in a blur. You couldn't procrastinate on Tumblr without being reminded of your new theme, which turned off your desire to slack off in general. You finished your homework early, then you finished next week’s as well. Something seemed off, but you didn't stop to question it - you were motivated to work for once and you didn't want to jinx your flow. Even after finishing two essays, you had time to kill before you could call Ushijima. Since he was tardy to practice, he would undoubtedly stay late to make up the lost time. Heading to the kitchen, you grabbed out the ice cream and threw yourself down on the couch. With nothing left to do, binge-watching Netflix would feel rather guilt-free for once. Your relaxation was cut short when you heard a knock at the door.

   “I don't want to buy your shit, go away!”

   “It's Ushijima,” a palpable pause, “and I'm not selling anything. I have your textbooks. You left them in the gym.”

   You groaned at your own stupidity. How could you have let Tendou work you up enough to abandon your textbooks? On top of that, you allowed your desire to scold Ushijima to blind you to your obvious lack of study material. Without it, the likelihood of errors had increased exponentially. You smacked yourself with a pillow; now you would have to double-check all your homework. Anxiety tickled your numbing thoughts as you turned off the television. You didn't make any effort to meet him at the door, “Ugh, just come in already.”

   He offered a nod in acknowledgement as he entered the living room and placed the books on the table. He sat down next to you, smiling as he grabbed the dessert from your hands. You were used to him being in your home after many an afternoon spent showing him how to use Tumblr. What came as a surprise was watching him eat the ice cream. Most days he would return it to the freezer, disregarding your pleas. You took the chance to observe him while his own gaze fell to the carpeted floor. The embodiment of a proper gentleman, he maintained perfect posture. He was still in his school uniform, and he always looked tense in it, but he seemed to loosen up when he was in your home. You knew he had taken a shower at the school, which he usually did after practice, because his hair had been styled once more. You always appreciated how the minty scent of his body wash lingered throughout your house even after he left. His clothes seemed tighter, clinging to his damp skin, providing an even more exquisite view of his muscles. Eyes falling to his legs, you let your mind wander and toy with the notion of seeing those thighs bare of clothing. You didn't notice when he turned to you at last, still lost in your own somewhat perverted thoughts. Coughing to gain your attention, he cocked an eyebrow, “Enjoying yourself?”

   “Shut up, you smell nice.”

   He blinked, a tinge of red dusting his cheeks, before continuing, “What did you want to talk about?”

   “I was going to call you. You didn't need to arrive at my house unannounced and start eating my food,” you mumbled, hitting his arm, “but I wanted to talk to you about getting your own Tumblr. Or, I guess since you already took over mine, I could start a new one.”

   “Why?”

   “What do you mean why, doofus? When I showed you my Tumblr, I didn't intend for you to take it over. I just thought you might want to see that someone posted one of your matches and it was getting notes,” you sighed, hitting his arm again. He chuckled at the effort, lifting a spoon of the frozen dessert to your lips. You swore under your breath as your cheeks exploded with crimson heat upon swallowing the treat.

   “I'm sorry,” he placed the tub of ice cream on the table before facing you once more, taking your hands within his, “You mentioned how your blog was personal to you, and I enjoyed that you shared it with me. I enjoy spending time you.”

   “Oi, you can't just say things like that! Dammit, Bakatoshi! You're making me blush!” You slapped his arm once more, earning an amused grunt from the attractive volleyball-obsessed idiot. He leaned in to you, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear.

   “It was nice having something that was ours,” You could feel his breath on your lips as he caressed your cheek. Your heart skipped a few beats, waiting for him to make his move.

   “Geez, just kiss me already, Wakatoshi-kun!” You closed the gap, lips smashing against his. If he was surprised by your forwardness, he didn’t show it. Instead he entwined his fingers within your hair, returning the kiss with equal passion. Patience was never one of your strong suits, not that either of you were complaining.

[obutsuwrites]

Play with Fire (dabi x reader, pt. 1)

Summary: “You summoned the fire demon Dabi to feel up his horns?” This brat. xxx basically fire!demon dabi smut that's a 2 parter coz i'm gross :3c smut is in part2~!

words: 1,777

my ao3 for more shitposts

my inbox b open 4 requests~!

She was positive this time the ritual was flawless. The wooden floor displayed various burnt circles, all failed attempts. Drawing a perfect circle required practice. The task took longer due to the woman’s poor eyesight. Each circle had been abused for her ritual. Flecks of spice decorated them. Squinted eyes observed the shape. A smile plastered across her face. Yes, this was it.

Without haste, the young woman began to prepare the circle. Spices and herbs sprinkled around the scorched area, candles set in an outer half circle. The website had dictated no less than six inches between the burnt circle and the candles. A measurement the woman abided by. She was never one to stray from the usual. A strict woman.

It was the woman’s craft that led her to this. She was a minor pyromaniac. Blazes would send the flesh on her arms into euphoric goosebumps. The delight almost aroused her. She felt like she could devour the flames and become one. A hot exchange of fire and flesh. That thought aroused her. Fire licking at sensitive flesh; her face flushed with pleasure.

She squeezed her legs together. Thoughts pooled against her; the moist fabric of her panties noticeable. The woman had stumbled upon the site by accident. Her nightly viewing consisted of the occult and found footage of infernos. The woman’s interest in the occult was merely a hobby. She had heard hushed whispers speak of despicable flame demons. Monsters that used to ravish ancestors. Originally, she had assumed them to be rumors. However, the woman’s hunt for knowledge had gotten the better of her.

☼

The website looked like it was out of ‘97. Poorly animated neon graphics decorated the page, the cursor a tongue-in-cheek broom. In big circle letters read the site’s title: ‘Occult for Dummies~!’. It was almost cute. A website obviously made by a student for some web design class. She had chuckled at the thought. Curious fingers clicked the first graphic: ‘How to Summon Him~!’.

Him?  

Tired eyes tried to decipher the page. Foreign symbols and phrases were sprinkled through the article. The article was confusing. As if the summoning of a demon was science. As if it were real. She clicked off the page. A tidal wave of sleep washed over her.

☼

‘How to Summon Him~!’ had faded into obscurity. The woman’s mind consumed with the routine of suburbia. Job, go home, sleep. A schedule of mundane. However, a particular event revived the memory.

It was Friday. Promises on the weekend were a privilege for her; a much needed break from the conventional pattern. Normalcy was a bore for the young pyromaniac. Habitual work peppered in with sleep was tedious somehow. This is why infernos excited her; their chaotic, violent nature. Brilliant oranges and reds popping against kindling. The aroma of smoke invoked a sense of peace within her.

She was headed home. The traffic backed against the mid-afternoon sun. Heat pressed into her back, the woman seeking relief from a rolled window. Bored eyes scanned the road before, no stop in sight. She sighed. A soft sound stuck in the humid air.

Seeing it had caused a lump of excitement to form in her throat. The woman’s eyes stuck to a blossoming cloud of obsidian. A fire’s threat against the horizon. Air rushed from her lungs; the organ now starved for oxygen. The woman anxiously glanced around, traffic still thick as syrup.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Wobbly legs escaped the vehicle, trembling hands fumbled with the locks. Arousal mixing with sweat. The sun beat against her. The woman’s face ablaze from embarrassment and exertion. She shuffled to the sidewalk. An inferno awaiting her. Passion budded in her chest. The smell of smoke was an aphrodisiac. Legs carried her in search of the blaze.

Eventually, whiffs of smoke evolved into the asphyxiation of smog. An audible moan echoed into the black cloud; the sensation of choking was erotic. Helpless.

Before the woman stood the ancient, smoldering bones of a building, the inside reduced to charred bits of wood; phantoms of a house. Fire no longer raged inside. Little orange sparks against dying embers. The woman sighed. She never quite arrived early enough to see a fire in full force. Hungry flames that engulfed man and structure.

‘Occult for Dummies~!’ ‘Learn How to Summon Dabi: the Demon of Cremation!’

☼

“Okay, now I need… Oh fuck, yeah, I need the paper,” the pyromaniac thought aloud. A scrap of paper somehow hidden among the mess of soot and herbs. After furious digging, the woman found it. She had scribbled the phrases that were necessary on a scrap of singed paper. Abuse from failed attempts had reduced the sheet to a palm sized remnant.

Archaic words sprang forth from the woman; the evoking of a chant.

☼

Oh my fucking god. Jesus Christ. What the fuck?

She awoke from a daze, joints aching from an uncomfortable position. Her hardwood floors offered no support. The woman blinked sleep from her eyes. Had… had she fallen asleep again? Anticipating a myth?

Doubt settled in the pyromaniac’s chest. Perhaps, she did. Fucking stupid. The woman stood up, feet smudging soot. She didn’t quite remember turning off the nights or… how stupidly cold it was. Goose flesh prickled against the chill. Moonlight cast into the room; a faint LED 61 the only other light source. An awkward laugh echoed from her. Right. Sixty-one.  

Frigid hands reached blindly against the wall. Light flooded the modest space. Tired eyes noticed nothing suspicious. The scrap of burnt paper was simply that charred. Blackened ash sat underneath the occultist instruction. Her eyes lingered at the soot. It felt wrong. Soot had not… Had not been there before.

An exasperated sigh escaped the woman. Nothing would get done with such needless paranoia. The very idea was ridiculous. No stalker or crazy neighbor would break in, only to leave a slip of paper in embers. Who would just burn one piece ? Such a pathetic sliver of paper would require kindling. No inferno wasn’t complete without kindling.

☼

No light filtered through the blackout curtains; the young woman instead experiencing the shrill sound of an alarm. Negative ASMR. Sleepy hands fumbled in the darkness, eventually disarming the alarm. Stale breathe expelled into the room. The woman’s body still trapped in sleep. Muscles slack against a willing body.

“What… What the --”

Before she could finish her muttering, a foreign raspy voice resounded through the door. His true tone muffled from the wood.

“Gonna let me in?” He sounded bored. As if it was a usual activity to break into a single woman’s apartment and stand menacingly behind her bedroom door! This guy is a fucking pervert. Quick. Quick. She sat up; her body thrown into survival. I have scissors! Adrenaline filled legs carried the woman to the bathroom, her legs quivering from fear.

A rough knock broke her concentration. Blunt scissors were poised in her grip. The woman now adequately prepared for an intruder.

“I know you’re in there. You move like a mouse.”

The man’s tone held a hint of annoyance. Obviously, her reaction was inordinary.

Soft footsteps thumped through the room as she attempted to move quietly. Action movies taught surprise attacks. Hot breath was forced from her lungs. Her chest felt ablaze. The desperate sounds only fueled her anxiety.

The woman found her voice. “Get the fuck out. I mean it. I -- I have a fucking bat, asshole!” She waved around the scissors, trying to emulate bravery. Perhaps, he would buy her bluff.

“Little bit of a brat. Oh well. Your loss, I guess. I was summoned by you anyway,” the mysterious man replied, a throaty chuckle muffled. A sarcastic undertone in his voice.

Summoned?

“I summoned you? What the fuck are you talking about? Are you mentally deficient?” she mocked, a trembling hand against the cold door knob. The woman’s doubt mirrored through the warped brass.

Anxiety shot up the woman’s spine as she felt the knob jiggle. Horror ate into her belly; the woman paralyzed with fear.

“You’re not the pyro that started all those shit circles?” he asked.

Shit circles?!

The woman turned the knob. The wooden door ripped open, scissors in hand. “Listen, asshole. You can’t break into my home and tell me how shitty it is!” The words boomed from her tiny frame; the woman hopelessly dwarfed by the stranger in her living room. “It took me fucking hours.”

She noticed his skin first. A tapestry of pale flesh and charred remains, stitched together by staples that glistened in the moonlight. Electric turquoise eyes watched her. A stoic expression bore into his face. Messy strands of obsidian framed his face; a distinctive pair of horns sprouted from his head. Miniature goat horns coated in the same obsidian with specks of dull blue. Silver mismatched earrings hung from his lobes, the man’s only garment a pair of black shorts.

“Holy shit. Are you okay?”

The scarred man’s gaze didn’t falter. “No wonder. You barely summoned me.” His eyes traveled down her form. The scissors stayed to the woman’s hip. This man was mentally unhinged.

A laugh erupted from the woman. No fucking way. NO fucking way.  

“I know what this looks like,” she said, a free hand gesturing to the various ashened circles that decorated her floor. No getting the deposit back now. “I had a mild fire. It’s fine now. Uh, are you drunk? Were you at a con?” She had to admit the horns looked hyper realistic. As if they were an organic part of him.

“No. Don’t you listen? You,” he pointed to the woman, “summoned me.” The mortal before him was a brat. Her behavior was unbecoming. She should be worshiping him, begging the fire demon to wreak havoc.

The woman’s brows pulled together. A pensive quiet overcame the two. Lack of sleep was apparent. Fuck. What was a question to ask him? ‘Hey Dabi, those horns a prosthetic?’ She racked her brain to conjure the next step from the article. A crucial aspect she had neglected to write down.

A trembling hand reached up and grasped the man’s horn. The appendage felt solid. Craftsmanship was obviously a concern. She rubbed the horn, a soft vinyl met her touch.

“These bad boys real?” The question rushed from her mouth; the woman not realizing how crass she sounded. An urge to tug on them crept into her.

He smacked her hand away. A stern look now painted on his face. First, a stupid brat summons him. Now, she’s fondled his horns. The man felt insulted.

“You summoned the fire demon Dabi to feel up his horns?” This brat.

[rocksinmuffin]

Answering questions under the read more like a fuckin scrub

No, I haven’t. I vaguely remember it playing on TV early in the morning before I had to go to school but I was a weak as she loser back then and I thought giant robots were dumb. I got better, but still never saw that particular series.

I know of Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures and you named probably two out of three characters who’s ever names I recognize but my experience with the fandom is finding a page from the manga pop up in my feed, me thinking it was edited to say something wild and stupid that makes no sense, and then me finding out that, no, actually, the series is just like that.

Like, specifically that pairing????? I mean, real talk, my knowledge of the Super Mario series is vague because I just casually play a couple games here and there without any real knowledge or care of the lore. So, I guess I could write it but chances are it is going to be a shitpost because I make up for my lack of knowledge or strong genuine feelings for the series with laughs and goofs.

I haven’t played it but I’ve seen a little bit of gameplay and I love Trico, he’s baby.

I guess????? He’s an interesting character and Omega Flowey was genuinely fucked up so yeah he’s aight.

Sadly, I have never seen the original She-Ra cartoon so I wouldn’t feel confident writing for the series, but if I ever get the opportunity I’ll try to check it out.

I’ll be honest, all I know about Dragon Ball Super comes from the Beerus and Frieza movies and the lore they put in the Xenoverse games. I’m a fake dragon ball fan.

Sorry, I don’t really consider Legend of Zelda one of my big fandoms so I really don’t know any blogs that write for it.

Yeah, I think I already put it on the list but I would write for animal crossing. But, honestly, I wouldn’t write NSFW for the series. It would just feel weird for me. Shitposts and cute animals giving weird and uncomfortable innuendos, sure. But no hanky panky.

The only Mortal Kombat game I’ve played is Mortal Kombat 10 but the story mode for that game gave me a crush on D’vorah, so yes, I would write for characters from that particular game.

While I appreciate your enthusiasm, it kind of defeats the purposes of closing requests if I still take requests while they’re closed. Feel free to send a Yes Man request in when they do open but I don’t hold onto requests to roll over to the next time because I just see my inbox count go up and it fills me with anxiety. Thanks for your understanding!

Edit: I got your second ask but didn’t see it before I posted this. Don’t worry, requests will not be open in 2 weeks while you don’t have WiFi so you won’t be missing anything.

[thetomorrowshow]

Mutually Beneficial Ch. xx

First  -  Previous  -  Next

Recommended listening: Panic! At The Disco & Fun. - C’Mon

Tw: Panic attack, self-deprecating thoughts

-

The Imagination was quiet today. Calm, docile. Today all the villagers would be picnicking, or barn-raising, or simply enjoying the fresh air.

Roman had wandered into the woods, his pajamas morphing into a forester's green and leather ensemble. He let the sickly green mist that had belonged to his brother drift away from his fingers, attaching itself to a tree, causing it to shrivel and grow gnarled. Roman didn't notice.

He found himself by a small waterfall. He came here sometimes, after spending time in Virgil's room, or after a particularly fruitless brainstorming session. Sometimes his thoughts were just too loud. The waterfall drowned them out.

Roman flopped onto the ground. An earthy smell filled his nostrils; the slightly damp grass tickled the back of his neck in a way that was almost okay.

If he stared up at the blue sky through the branches, and let the waterfall fill his mind, he could almost believe he was all right. He could almost convince himself that Virgil had never disappeared, that he himself had never been tortured, that his skin was smooth, devoid of any permanent marks. He could almost convince himself that he wouldn't freak out the next time someone touched him.

The Imagination was quiet today. But all the quiet in the world couldn't be louder than the thoughts in Roman's head.

-

Virgil had finally gotten sleep at some point. Not much, but enough that his panic was no longer dulled, as it had become the more exhausted he'd been.

“At least Patton's safe,” he'd found himself whispering over and over again. Now, however, doubts crept into his mind. He could've sworn he'd seen something green peeking out of Patton's ears. At the time, he'd written it off as a trick the panic was playing on his vision. But . . . what if it really was what he thought it was?

He tried to shake it off. Patton had Logan and Roman now. He would be okay.

Somehow, this felt like the end of something. He didn't know what, Virgil realized as he painfully, haltingly, paced the room. When he'd first arrived, the room was familiarly huge, too large a space for just him. Too empty, too silent. Too much. Now it was too full, too loud. Too little. Making one circuit of the room had once felt like a lifetime, now it felt like mere seconds. Once he had yelled just to fill the silence. Now he was quiet, just trying to appease the noise.

Walking wasn't helping at the moment, so Virgil sat, his body grateful for the rest. He needed to find another way to calm himself. Roman had always insisted that making up stories was relaxing. Maybe he could give that a try.

“Once upon a time,” Virgil began, over the deafening quiet, “there was . . . a prince. The prince never really understood how to make things right. Instead of trying, he separated himself from any solution. He was a stubborn prince. . . .”

-

He could always ask for help, Roman supposed. He could explain what was wrong. Logan would have a solution. He always did.

Just the thought of explaining what happened, and how he felt, made his stomach turn. There was no way to bring that up in everyday conversation.

“Oh, by the way,” Roman said aloud, letting his eyes wander. “Just wanted to let you know that before Deceit did . . . it, he acted . . . and he. . . .” he groaned. That sounded stupid.

A squirrel crawled up to where he was sprawled on the ground and nudged his fingertips. Roman absentmindedly scratched its head. Thomas had to be so bored right now. His creativity was barely functional and refused to communicate with the other Sides.

“He hoped—so hard—that his friends wouldn't find him.”

“Roman? Roman, are you in here?”

There Logan was now. Roman imagined him standing just inside the entrance, peering around apprehensively. Roman didn't move to respond, though. He continued to pet the furry woodland animals—a chipmunk had joined the squirrel, then two rabbits and a deer—as they gathered around him. The deer lay curled up by his side, the rabbits on his stomach. It was almost peaceful. He didn't want Logan to find him. He hadn't had a proper moment to relax in far too long.

“But they did. They found him.”

“Ah, there you are.”

The animals shifted uneasily as Roman stiffened. A bespectacled face appeared in his field of vision.

“I told you to stay out of the Imagination until you have recovered.” Logan extended a hand to help him up. Roman pretended to not notice, instead letting his hand rest on the deer's head and his eyelids slip closed.

“And they didn't understand.”

“Roman.” Logan's voice was annoyed now, and there was a shuffling sound, and suddenly there was a hand wrapped around Roman's upper arm. There was a moment of nothing that lasted an eternity, the calm before the storm. Roman felt his heartbeat speed up, his eyes open wide, his muscles tense. The creatures scattered.

Then it felt like his insides were tearing him apart.

“And he couldn't explain.”

“What in Newton's name is the matter?”

His back was against something rough, and he couldn't move, but he had to, because he wasn't safe he wasn't safe he wasn't safe he—

Then Roman blinked, and forced himself to take a deep breath. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. His vision cleared; Logan stood a good five feet away, confusion warring with concern on his face. Roman realized he was curled up, back pressing a little painfully into a tree trunk. He couldn't say anything yet, he recognized, as his mouth opened and shut several times.

Logan's face softened almost imperceptibly. “Roman, subjects who talk with someone about their trauma often feel emotionally and physically better. Do you need to—”

“I'm fine,” Roman muttered, his voice found. “You can go.”

“Roman—”

“Go.”

Logan hesitated. “Be back within thirty minutes,” he ordered. “Patton would like to see you and Thomas needs sleep.”

Roman didn't make any movement. A bird fluttered down and landed on his shoulder.

Logan turned and walked away from the clearing with the waterfall, posture stuff and head held high.

“He pushed them away. He wasn't worthy of such awesome—no, wonderful friends. They . . . they could never know how broken he was.”

Roman's shoulders dropped, his body shaking as his adrenaline from moments before vanished. More animals crept to his side, pressing themselves against him to try and offer as much comfort as they could.

A tear slipped down his cheek as Roman took in a shuddering gasp.

“He was so tired of hurting.”

-

TAGLIST (please ask to be added/removed): @kai-the-person  @stop-it-anxiety @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships @shitpost-sides  @bl00scl00s @charakitcat @ainsleyf @sandersstuffsblog @ginnyfox617 @enragedbees @minty4green @eggy-boyo @escalatingtoofast @hayden-going-insane @piixelations @supersoftsupersleep @crowsmadreadful @hpdmmdundtl @imnotjustanxiety @thenewlarislynn @mooniecoockie @eden607 @sanderssidesweirdo @cali-the-dreamer

[thetomorrowshow]

Mutually Beneficial Ch. xvii

First  -  Previous  -  Next

Recommended listening: Broken Bells - Good Luck

Tw: Blood, kidnapping, tied hands, threats, Remus, Deceit

-

Patton had been alone for a while now. Every so often for several hours, Remus had appeared in the dark, closet-like room. Whenever he was there, he paced the length of the room, muttering to himself. Sometimes he suddenly grabbed Patton by the shoulders, examined his averted eyes and trembling lips, then disappeared, leaving Patton too frightened to move.

Physically, Patton was fine—his forearms were a bit bruised up, and the head wound pounded relentlessly, but that was it.

He didn't dare move too much. The insane Side had warned him against it, a rather unpleasant knife clenched between his teeth. Patton shuddered to think of what might happen should Remus return to find him not in the center of the room, where he'd been frozen with fear since they'd arrived. He needed to move though, his legs beginning to ache, so he slowly rotated on the spot.

The room was rather bare. Concrete floor, plain walls. It was dark, too—no light bulb or window. A smashed mirror hung on one of the walls, dusty shards of glass littered about the floor beneath it. The only furniture was a twin-size bed, shoved as far into the corner as was possible. Peeking out from under the bed was a small chest, appearing exactly as one would imagine a pirate's treasure chest would look.

Patton didn't like to look at the treasure chest. He didn't like to look at anything in the room, actually. Moving pulled on his ears strangely ever since Remus had jabbed his fingers into Patton's ear canals. It hadn't really hurt, but his ears felt all slimy and gross and it almost sounded like something—or someone—was whispering into them? Patton shook the thought away. He had to think about something pleasant.

The room was like a box—no, a present, Patton decided. Someone would open it and he would pop out, all smiles and fatherly energy. “Guess you didn't expect to see ol' Patton here, did ya?” He'd say.

Patton sniffed back a tear.

-

“Guess who I have!”

Virgil sighed. “Who do you have?” He was trying to sleep. Why did Remus have to bother him now?

“Guess!”

“Patton,” Virgil threw out. Remus was going to make him guess three times, wasn't he?

Remus's face dropped momentarily. “Who told you?” he demanded.

Virgil sat straight up. “What?” he gasped. He couldn't really have Patton. He had to be lying. He had to! A small voice in the back of his head reminded him that Remus never lied, he was as honest as could be. “What—don't touch him!”

Remus cackled. “I think I'll break his fingers next!” he confessed gleefully.

Next? Next? “No! Remus, no!”

“Remus yes!” The Side turned away and bounced to the door.

“No! Please, I'll do—”

“You'll do what?”

Virgil's mouth opened and closed. Remus had frozen, his back still turned. Virgil really didn't want to say what had popped into his head, but . . . Patton. He couldn't let him go through that pain. He spoke, his voice echoing deeply.

“I'll . . . tell you why I'm here.” It would be a breach of contract, but maybe Remus wouldn't tell Deceit? Who was he kidding, Remus would tell everyone. Too late, he desperately regretted his words.

Remus's head swiveled around on his neck, owl-like, those glinting eyes meeting Virgil's. “Tempting, Virgie.” Then he was right in front of the anxious Side, their noses almost touching. Virgil recoiled.

“But what would Dee think of that?” Remus hissed. Then he was gone.

-

“Patton?”

The moral Side looked up, and Deceit took in his tear-filled eyes, his dirty clothes, the dried blood that was stark against his pale cheek.

“Heya, kiddo,” Patton said, a false smile plastered onto his face. “Long time, no see!”

Deceit ignored the words, stepping further into the cramped space that had once been his own bedroom. Patton was standing, shaking, in the center of the room, his hands tied behind his back with what seemed to be a scratchy length of rope.

“Are you all right?”

Patton chuckled. It was a thin, strained sound. “Most certainly not.”

Deceit groaned in frustration. Most days, Remus was fine. Too curious, of course. Gross. But this was just out of hand. Had something distressed him, or did he just genuinely dislike Patton?

“Can I go home now?” Patton asked pitifully, haltingly, like he thought he might be punished for speaking. Deceit almost sunk out with him right then and there. He might dislike the moral Side, but he knew that Thomas cared very much about Patton, who in his turn was just trying to do what he thought was best for Thomas. Yes, part of Deceit said Patton needed to get home right now, but another part. . . .

Another part of him understood how much Virgil cared about Patton.

“Of course,” he said silkily. “I can sink you out.”

And, with his hands bound, stupid, trusting Patton ran straight into Deceit's arms.

-

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships @emo-adjacent @kai-the-person  @stop-it-anxiety @shitpost-sides  @bl00scl00s @charakitcat @ainsleyf @sandersstuffsblog @ginnyfox617 @enragedbees @minty4green @eggy-boyo @escalatingtoofast @hayden-going-insane @piixelations @supersoftsupersleep @crowsmadreadful @hpdmmdundtl @imnotjustanxiety @thenewlarislynn @mooniecoockie @emilybaker607 @sanderssidesweirdo Tell me if I missed anybody!