#is this anything. screaming in the void here

[distuff]

HIIII i love your writing so much....

can you do (lowk all the boys but BABY IN PARTICULAR if u dont wanna) where their partner is like, I don't know how to descirbe it, bubbly I guess? or cute? like they're sleepy so they're kinda sluggish and pouty (if that makes sense...?) and they end up just falling asleep on another saja boy's shoulder cause they didn't wanna move, and the saja boy decides to not move just to cause its funny, and baby finds them and has a mini anuerusm but also doesn't want ot wake the reader and how he would sort it out and get his s/o back?

Answer: No worries readershi ! I get what ya mean by the reader however, I would like to remind ya that the ver of Baby you see in my stories is a bit... diff than what I realised many readers want him to be (￣▽￣*)ゞ I want to make ya happy, but at the same time I can't go against something that doesn't feel right. I can only hope the story delivered ! I'm honestly just usin' my readers prompts as a character study fufufu~ (Is it correct? I donno qwq)

📍Requests: Please check HERE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Baby Saja: Reader Falling on Another's Shoulder

Featuring: Baby Saja Reader: Gender neutral

🍼 Feelings... Baby thought, were useless. He may not remember why he believed that, but his body did. Every time he feasted on a human soul, or his clawed fingers traced the honmoon waves—feeling scorching cool—it knew.

🍼 He didn’t need memories. His body told him all he needed to know, even if it did so without words.

🍼 Not that Baby had to worry about physical reactions the way humans did—their so-called "emotions." No soul meant no heart. No heart meant he couldn’t feel anything beyond the hollow in his chest, that deep, gnawing ache that screamed to be filled—though it never could be.

🍼 He couldn’t feel sadness, no matter how many salty tears fell from the humans' eyes in his grasp. That sorrow was replaced by hunger. He couldn’t feel joy, no matter how loud the laughter fell out of his lips. That thrill was replaced by void. And that tight squeeze in the chest—the kind that made people bite their bottom lip when they saw someone they felt safe with, someone they trusted—was just a mask. A façade.

🍼 Behind it: a grin. Sharp teeth. Saliva. The anticipation of a fulfilling meal.

Baby never imagined he’d sit with himself and think about what he once had as a human, and what little he could now feel as a demon. All because he agreed to Jinu’s ridiculous idea: these soul-collecting missions, crafted so the selfish bastard could try filling his own void with something only Gwi-ma had the knowledge to return. Still, Baby would give Jinu silent praise. No need to inflate his ego more than it already was.

And yet— Here he was. In a private van owned by the humans who worked for a slave house… or "production company," as Jinu insisted it be called.

He, Mystery, and Jinu were returning from yet another mind-numbing interview for the SAJA members—the ones "behind the music." The others had been lucky enough to stay back at the house, soaking in space untainted by human scent.

Baby wasn’t a picky demon when it came to souls. But lately, the taste of lust, admiration, and infatuation had started to grow stale on his tongue. He was fed them daily, and they no longer satisfied.

But then—there was your wave. The one that made him recoil from its warmth. It no longer burned, yet it slithered over his skin like blood: thick, sticky, clinging.

Baby bit his tongue, resting his head against the van door. His eyes were unfocused, gazing through the window as the scenery blurred past—fighting off the shiver crawling up his spine.

He hated that kind of warmth the most. It felt gentle, yet possessive. Like it wanted to hold him—yet demanded something in return. And Baby had nothing to give. Not physically. Not emotionally.

The humans had a name for it. Love. Connection. Bond. Romanticised nonsense masking what was, at its core, a parasitic exchange.

No one gave without expecting something in return. Even those who claimed to act out of kindness did so for a pleasure only they understood. Nothing was done without a reason. And Baby knew, deep down, that he was your means to an end. One neither of you could ever truly reach.

And yet… your soul. So enticing. It didn’t taste like the cloying sweetness of lust. Nor the intoxicating grip of obsession.

No—attachment tasted like thick, sweetened water. It never filled the hollow in his chest… but it gave the illusion of it. And that illusion made Baby’s teeth itch.

Would your soul be the one to finally fill that void?

Logically, no. Only his own soul could do that. But the demonic instinct inside him—Gwi-ma’s voice, cruel and amused—whispered:

“Y͟e͜s͢~ F͢e͟a̸s̕t̴.”

Ash filled his mouth. He bit into his tongue. A flicker of flame licked the back of his throat before the wound healed within seconds.

He didn’t even flinch. The van remained silent, its passengers drained from the endless, pointless interview meant to entertain the masses.

: : :

Neither of them spoke once they stepped out of the van and into the high-rise complex given to them by the company. They didn’t need to. Their auras said enough.

Baby could feel it clearly—his seniors just wanted to get to their shared apartment and retreat to their own rooms in peace.

As soon as they entered, Mystery made a beeline upstairs without a word. Jinu disappeared down the hall, probably heading to one of the rooms cluttered with books or games—whichever distraction his restless energy chose tonight.

Baby was ready to follow Mystery up to his own room, but he paused the moment he caught sight of the living room. Romance sat casually on the couch, painting his nails a soft iridescent pink, with you slumped gently against his shoulder. From the slow, steady movement of your wave, it was clear you’d fallen asleep.

Baby stood there silently, his expression unreadable, as his eyes scanned the room bathed in your red line. The crimson pulsed with lazy, satisfied warmth—so vivid it swallowed up the once-prominent blue hue that used to dominate from the Huntr/X fans who were now becoming attached them.

He could only spot one bright blue wave pulsing among the dullness and red, barely clinging on. But Baby’s attention didn’t linger there.

No—his gaze stayed fixed on the deep red wave coiling around you. Crimson with delicate whips of purple curling at the edges near your chest. So focused was he, he didn’t realise his canines had extended until—

"Atatata~" Romance’s sing-song voice cut through the silence.

Baby blinked, snapping out of his trance, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the older demon’s smirking face. Romance wiggled a finger at him playfully, the other hand still holding the brush.

“Not yet. Don’t forget—we need as much of these as possible.” He nodded toward the crimson wave, its slow movement matching your steady breathing.

Baby clicked his tongue and stepped forward, the low thud of his boots a warning. “Bullshit. You’re feeding off it bit by bit,” he accused, voice low and sharp. The purple flames on your wave weren't exactly subtle.

Romance chuckled, unfazed, and waved him off with a lazy flick of the wrist before turning back to his nails. “Not as much as you are. Poor lamb’s so pale,” he drawled. “You should take it easy on the soul.”

Baby’s eyes shifted to your face. Blank. Unreadable. Then a smirk stretched across his lips, slow and cutting, as he took another step closer—his shadow falling over your sleeping form.

“Why waste an opportunity served on a golden platter?” he murmured.

Romance snorted, dipping the brush into the bottle again. “You’re starting to sound like Jinu-ya,” he said with a sly grin. “Careful, Baby~ You don’t want to end up with forehead wrinkles like him.”

Baby let out a dry laugh, but the smile slipped off his face quickly. His eyes never left yours. You were smiling faintly in your sleep, breathing soft and even.

Having a nice dream? he wondered, then asked aloud, “What are they doing here?”

Romance didn’t skip a beat. “I got bored. Decided to use the rare spare time to its full potential.”

A beat of silence passed.

Then Baby’s brows furrowed as he bit the air, sharp canines flashing. He turned toward Romance with a harsh whisper, “You just wanted an easy meal.”

He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake you. He was exhausted. The last thing he needed was a human clinging to him, draining what little energy he had left.

Ironic. He thought almost sarcastically.

Romance let out a low chuckle, careful not to jostle your sleeping form. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes. Yes, I can. Find your own human,” Baby snapped quietly, arms crossing as his energy flared slightly—just enough to send a warning.

Romance ignored it completely, casually getting the excess polish back into the bottle. “Last time I checked, all these humans are to be given to Gwi-ma~” he said cheekily.

Baby scoffed.

Romance continued, now more thoughtful, “Don’t play with your food too long, Baby. You don’t want to get attached, now do you?”

Baby’s eyes narrowed. “How the fuck can we get attached when we have nothing to attach with?” His tone was raspy, barely above a whisper.

Romance hummed in response. “Fair enough. Wrong term.” He paused, expression smoothing out. “Possessive. Don’t get overly possessive over something not meant to last.”

Baby’s eyes widened slightly. Possessive?

His gaze snapped to your sleeping face again.

Then he scoffed. Like I care about them. The only reason he was even annoyed was because Romance was feeding off something he worked on.

He was the one who turned your aura crimson. He was the one who got the pleased rumble from Gwi-ma for sweetening your soul.

It was his work. Not Romance’s.

You were his piece.

And you would be his offering on the day of the feast.

“Don’t consume all of it.” Baby’s voice was low and firm, his brows furrowed in a serious expression that made Romance glance up at him with a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Mmm~ Fair,” Romance hummed, clearly entertained. “But don’t think I won’t fight for such a savoury taste when the final day comes.”

Baby returned the smug grin, posture straightening as he released more of his demonic energy. Romance mirrored him, their shared pressure darkening the air between them. Both pairs of golden eyes flashed briefly—slitted pupils sharp and glinting—before the illusion washed back over their features like a tide pulling back.

“I’d love to see you try, you diva,” Baby taunted smoothly.

Romance’s aura began to flare again, the atmosphere almost crackling—until a heavier, far more suffocating presence swept into the room.

It felt like being shoved into a cloud of ash and smog. Both demons stilled immediately, expressions widening just slightly as they instinctively tried to breathe through it.

Mystery’s aura had settled over the entire living room. Tamed, cold, and unspoken—a warning. A very clear shut it.

Without another word, both demons let their chests fall, puffed bravado fading away in silent submission to the elder. The silence hung thick between them as they shared a side owilish glance.

Then they both turned toward you.

Romance felt you stir first—you were leaning against him, after all. Baby felt it second, through the ripple of your wave, the slow change in its frequency.

Shit. Baby cringed inwardly. No surprise, really. He and Romance had already washed the living room in their clashing auras, but Mystery’s aura must’ve really shaken your human soul.

Sure enough, within seconds, your eyelids fluttered open.

Your brows furrowed, your body shifting stiffly as though the pleasant dream you’d been trapped in had suddenly turned sour, decaying into a nightmare too quickly for your mind to process.

But then your gaze landed on him.

Baby went still. Please fall back asleep, he thought weakly. Just pass out again. Be a good little sheep and drift off.

Instead, your face lit up. You sat upright with childlike joy and immediately reached out to hug him, calling his name with far too much excitement for someone who had just escaped a nightmare.

He felt his chest tighten at the sound—his mind whispering for him to accept it, to draw you close and take what you were so easily giving away. A willing offering.

But his body moved on its own.

With a swift step back, he dodged your embrace, hand held up in a quiet refusal. Now wasn’t the time.

Ever, if possible, he thought, though he never said it aloud.

He was okay with physical attention—if he initiated it. There were moments when he craved your wave, when the hunger gnawed so deep that even your scraps of affection were enough to dull the ache.

But tonight, he was too drained. Too tired to talk, to act, to pretend in this human illusion. He just wanted solitude.

And yet… no matter how cold or dismissive he was, you never took it personally. You always endured it with grace.

Mystery once told him humans had a thing called “I can fix him.” idea. Baby had laughed so hard he nearly cried.

Fix him? How? By letting him consume your soul? That’d do absolutely nothing. Would you go against Gwi-ma for him? Try to retrieve his damned soul? If you did, Baby would be impressed by your stupidity—morbidly entertained, even.

But when those thoughts stirred in his head… all he could manage was a scoff.

He didn’t understand why it pissed him off so much—this idea of you giving yourself up so easily, throwing yourself into danger like a brainless creature blinded by some unreasonable devotion.

He didn’t want you to. He hoped you never would.

Because then he’d have to watch you die a completely useless death.

Baby could be cruel, teasing, distant, and cold. But you stayed.

You withstood it all like it meant nothing. He started calling you a masochist, and you just laughed.

Even when he dodged your affection, you’d smile at him—like you understood something he hadn’t even admitted to himself or you.

You’d argued, sure. Plenty of times. And sometimes, when you got truly upset, Baby would be forced to soothe you. He hated it—because your honmoon line would tense, your crimson wave would spike with defensive shards, and every instinct in his body would tell him to step back, to bare his teeth, to avoid getting cut.

You’d no longer taste sweet. Just bitter and clogged.

But you never stayed mad long.

And Baby still didn’t understand why you were so damn stubborn. Were you just nice? Did you think he was attractive enough to put up with everything he gave you? Did you see something worthwhile in him to cling to?

He didn’t get it. And he hated that.

All he wanted was for you to let him go. To walk away. To disappear into the crowd of blurry, faceless souls so he could forget the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him like he was worth the trouble.

So he wouldn't remember the way you once snuck a pat on his head, praising him for something stupid, while he stood there speechless—too stunned to do anything but freeze.

You don’t deserve it, Baby had once thought quietly as the two of you sat across from one another, lazily chatting and trading complaints like two overworked beings with nowhere better to be.

But that thought opened a dangerous door.

Which of these humans actually deserve to have their souls consumed?

That train of thought didn’t get far. It was slammed shut almost immediately as Gwi-ma’s furious voice screeched in his mind, sharp and unbearable—like claws dragging across a rock. The sound echoed inside his skull, a grating reminder of two things: his unrelenting hunger… and his contract with his Lord.

With you, Baby found himself craving something he’d never truly longed for before—his soul.

Not because he missed it. Not because of some romantic longing for what he used to be. But because he wanted to feel.

When he was with you, he didn’t feel much of anything on his own. He mainly felt what you did through your wave. The way your energy responded to him.

Still, sometimes… A voice—faint and nagging at the back of his mind—would whisper: What would I feel if I had it back?

Would he like you? Would he feel attachment? Annoyance at your dramatics? Amusement at your storytelling and exaggerated complaints?

Would he even feel anything at all for you? Or would you fade into just another face in the crowd, forgettable and dull, once the honmoon barrier no longer affected him and he became a fully formed human with his own thoughts and unclouded desires?

He didn’t know. He told himself he didn’t care.

Baby sat staring at you now, his gaze dulled. You were rising to your feet, offering him one of your small, familiar smiles. You’d already caught onto his fatigue—like you always did. You noticed everything about him, it seemed.

Romance, sitting nearby, lifted a brow at him but said nothing, already returning to painting his nails with a dramatic sigh.

“You had a hard day, huh?”

Your voice pulled Baby’s eyes to meet yours, tired and bored as they were. You looked up at him with that same soft concern that always gnawed at something deep inside him. Gently, your hand reached for his arm—easy, familiar, careful.

Baby’s body stiffened.

Your touch was warm to him—warm in the way fireplaces feel during a cold winter. A strange, scorching warmth bloomed where your hand rested, not soothing but intrusive, and every instinct screamed at him to flinch away. To step back.

But he held still.

Jinu had already scolded him recently—told him to act less detached when around you.

“You’re in a relationship,” Jinu had said dryly, like it was a contract Baby had signed. He had nearly scoffed out loud: Whose fault is that?

He didn’t get the chance to argue. Jinu’s attention had shifted just as Tiger stepped through the realm portal, Magpie sitting on its head, looking unamused like always. The trio had rushed upstairs, Jinu looking mildly guilty about something. That had immediately made Baby suspicious.

He hadn’t told anyone about what he thought was happening. Not yet. Not until he spoke to Jinu first. If it turned out to be something stupid, there was no need to alarm the others.

Still, some part of him—some quiet, stubborn part that still respected Jinu—resented the secrecy. He didn’t like being kept out. Not by Jinu. Not by someone he believes he can trust with anything.

Baby was pulled from his thoughts as you gently tugged at him. Somehow, during the seconds he’d been lost in his own head, you’d moved behind him, coaxing him with soft persistence.

When he refocused on you, you were smiling—brightly, as always. Your wave reached out to him, clinging to something invisible, something hopeful, and the joy radiating off you was so tangible that it pulled the corners of his lips upward despite himself.

You tugged again. “Come on, sleepyhead. You can rest once we get to your room,” you said with far too much confidence—as if being allowed into his bed was a given.

He should’ve kicked you out. Should’ve rolled his eyes and told you off like he always did.

Instead, his body betrayed him once more. He took a step forward.

Your touch still felt scorching, but his skin was slowly acclimating. And so, he let you guide him upstairs, watching you with a contemplative expression as you began rambling—talking about how Romance had invited you, what the two of you had been up to, the way you exaggerated every little detail with dramatic flair.

God, just shut up, he wanted to groan. But he didn’t.

His head was empty. Peacefully so.

For once, Gwi-ma’s voice wasn’t clawing through his skull. Either his Lord was too busy, or one of his brothers was bearing the brunt of his annoyance today.

Baby could breathe. Sort of.

The only downside was that Gwi-ma always seemed to hate your voice.

Somehow, it only made the demon lord more irritable. The headaches would spike, sharp and relentless. And when they did, Baby was too worn down to resist—too tired to stop you from touching him. Really touching him.

You’d run your hands gently through his hair, massaging his scalp, letting him rest his heavy head against you while his body, despite itself, clung to your presence for relief.

Even Baby knew this relationship wasn’t healthy—at least not by human standards.

And yet… here you were. Still here. Still reaching for him. Still offering something he had never wanted.

As you lowered your voice while opening the door to his room, Baby stared at your back. Your wave pressed against him gently—soothing, needy, unaware that with each rub, each pulse of affection, he was feeding off you again.

His energy returned bite by bite. And still, you smiled.

You can’t be that lonely, can you? Baby thought as he stepped fully into his room, the soft click of the door behind him signalling you’d followed and shut it.

He let out a low groan, flopping face-first onto the bed—not from exhaustion after the Interweaver, but from something heavier. Something stickier.

You took his suffering as comedy, as always, letting out a quiet chuckle before happily bouncing onto the bed beside him. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, your grin wide and annoyingly bright as you looked at his clearly unamused expression. Far too happy. Far too warm.

Raising a brow, you reached out, gently, like always. "Baby? You know you can tell me when—ack!"

You barely got the words out before his hand shot up and caught your wrist in a firm grip. The contact was too much—your crimson wave spilling over him, blanketing him in warmth he didn’t ask for and couldn’t ignore.

You wanted to stay by his side? Let yourself be eaten slowly, piece by piece, like some willing sacrifice?

Then fine. Let it be. But Baby refused to linger in that heat longer than he had to. He craved fire—the kind he could endure. The kind that hurt. That pain was nothing compared to Gwi-ma’s flames.

With no effort at all, he flipped your position, pushing you back into the mattress with a force that made the springs creak beneath you. He straddled your legs, pinning them easily with his thighs. His gaze bore into yours for just a second before he leaned in, capturing your lips in a rough, unapologetic kiss.

His tongue swept against your lower lip before he nipped at it, smirking when your wave pulsed. Annoyance. Confusion. Desire. Good. These were the emotions he could handle. Emotions he was used to feeding on.

Unlike the other thing. The clogging thing that stuck to his throat and made him want to purge.

Love… Baby thought bitterly, dazed, as you let him in—returning the kiss, softening beneath him. Is so fucking disgusting.

[the-effect-of-chaos]

Okay so, since you guys like the demisexual!Steve rambling I posted here, I figured I would keep the rambling going.

First of all, let's tap into Steve's not-so-sexuality-based-but-former-actions-based crisis. AGAIN this is 100% me projecting on my blorbo, but also feels very canon Steve to me, but the whole epiphany of "Oh hey I like dudes too" just doesn't really phase him. It's more like a hindsight, "so that's why" moment for him, then it is a crisis.

He had such a close relationship with Tommy that it really isn't such a stretch to think that if they fooled around any "as practice for girls no homo" he would have felt those tingly feelings he later only finds in Nanacy and then of course Eddie.

Scenario time!

Let's say they are in 8th grade wanting to test kissing, maybe they even get as far as handjobs by first year highschool. But imagine the HURT Steve would feel when Tommy and Carol finally got together and Tommy cut him off. (I know people enjoying them being a throuple and I have thoughts about how that could hurt even more when he breaks off with them but that is for a different post). Maybe he does end up having a threesome with them, and hey THE FEELINGS ARE BACK until he sleeps with a different girl hopeful that this time is gonna feel right ANNNND they're gone again.

He would be gutted, and wouldn't have a clue why. Not until five years later when he realises he is on his way to falling in love with a scrappy wet rat of a nerdy metal head. Looking back he has the "Oh" moment and rather than freak out about it, just slides on into a full blown crisis of "Oh my god I was SUCH a HYPOCRITE how can I ever show him or Jonathan my face again" etc.

Robin has soooo much fun talking him out of that one.

My reasoning for this is simple, Steve of s4 would not care about being considered queer. He is more settled into who he is and what he wants to be by then. He's broken free from the expectations of those that would have influenced him otherwise, plus his best friend is a lesbian. He knows! Knows! That being queer is not a world ending thing. So why should he worry about it? If anything it just made everything 'click' and settle something he didn't know was wrong.

So now we enter the Confident Biromantic Steve era.

Now to throw in something new, a Gay/Bisexual Eddie who is DEMIROMANTIC.

Eddie, who has a crush on Steve that never wavers. Even when he tries to redirect it. Eddie, who has had a few awkward fumbling sexual encounters with either sex and yet while the sex itself was fine, he never developed stronger feelings for. Eddie who asks he AroAce Uncle for guidance but doesn't really get exactly what he was looking for.

Eddie who when he finally gets with Steve is bowled over by how deeply he feels. Eddie who is so overcome with love, adoration and pure devotion for Steve he finally believes he has found his soulmate.

Seriously though I need y'all to @ me because I am just currently yelling all my Aspec headcanons into the void right now.

Like an BiAro Jonathan and of course AroAce Wayne my beloved.

If you want more send me asks! DM me to scream about them. Comments and screaming in the tags is so very welcome it is encouraged.

[i-got-poisenality]

i’m bored so i’m screaming my opinions into the void, so here’s my opinion on various newsies ships

Javid/Javey - augh i love them 10/10 the sillies leading a strike together love the homosexual tension

Jathrine - it can be written well but im not the biggest fan

Jathrid - same as Jathrine, i just don’t see anything between Davey and Kath and i barely see anything with Jack and Kath

newsbians - another top tier ship, i love how the power of gay was enough to cross versions of the show

sprace/ralbert/spralbert - hot take: not a fan of any of these, i just don’t see it and there isn’t really much that appeals to me with them for some reason but you do you ig

crutchtrack - now this, this i really like, my favorite newsies ship by far, friends to lovers and idiots who don’t realize their feelings are mutual, 12/10 even though i am in a very small minority of people who like them

redfinch - eh it’s ok, i like it as a qpr best but i have nothing for or against this

blush - YES!! THEM!!! no notes they’re perfect and i like how everyone agrees about them

darcy x bill - i like these sillies, no strong feelings but i like them

bumswiftery - i don’t know much about them but im a big fan of these dorks

binch - i like it about the same as qpr redfinch, as in i have nothing real opinions

lovebirds (romeo x finch) - ok yes, i’m in a newsies rp that’s leaning towards this and it’s becoming something i really like especially with how our romeo and finch are playing it

albert x absolutely no one because he’s aroace - i just really like aroace rep, i enjoy this hc

feel free to come at me about this or whatever i’m bored and don’t mind discourse

or even better tell me if you like the same ships i do and we can :teehee: about them together

[reddawnmultimuse]

Deidara caught the twitch. It was barely there, just a tiny muscle in Itachi’s brow giving the smallest betrayal of emotion, but oh, it was enough. And it was delicious.

The blonde's lip quirked into a smug-ass smirk. "What’s the matter, Uchiha? Not used to things not going your way, hn?"

But then, Itachi's tone changed. So sharp, so clean, and so cold it sucked the air from the room. Deidara’s cocky grin faultered, flickered, then vanished entirely. And then, the Sharingan itself changed.

The tomoe spinning, melting into itself until mimicking three-bladed Fūma Shuriken. The Mangekyō.

Oh. Oh shit.

Deidara’s body went rigid before the illusion even triggered. His pride screamed don’t flinch, but his instincts whispered run. But, it was too late as the world itself started to shift. The couch, the walls, the window, the unbearable summer heat--gone.

In their place: a vast void of red sky and black clouds. Endless nothing. And a chill that cut to the bone. It wasn’t just his skin now--it was in his lungs, in his bones, in the blood that should have been warm with adrenaline but felt like it was turning to ice water.

He tried to break it with his eye, tried to push chakra through it, tried to resist--anything! Just like he’d trained it to. It had worked on the Sharingan! But this? This wasn’t the same illusion as before. This wasn’t a trick of the nerves. This was deep. Like his body was no longer in that room. Like he was here, wherever here was. This was the Mangekyō. And Itachi, still there, still calm, still watching.

Twenty-four hours, he’d said.

Deidara stiffened. "Twenty-four--are you serious?!" His voice cracked from the sudden drop in temperature. "L-Look, I was joking, alright? It’s not that serious, hn! You don’t have to--how are you so petty?!" Pot, meet kettle.

"You’re really doing this over a failed genjutsu?!"

ㅤOf course, it had been working all too well. Far too well, in a way that matters never did whenever Deidara was involved - which meant, when it all came spectacularly downhill all of a sudden, Itachi wasn't surprised. Nonetheless, he was disappointed. Because, if there was one thing in this entire world that he did not tolerate and did not really know how to deal with, it was failure. You don't do that to a pathological perfectionist and expect him to accept it peacefully, oh no. This was starting to get personal.

But... even then, he was able to keep his frustration mostly under control. Still sitting perfectly elegant, perfectly tranquil. His eyebrow may or may not be twitching.

ㅤIt's okay. It's fine. We will find out what is happening and we will make it right. One way or the other. First things first, then, what had actually gone wrong? Nothing, as far as he could tell. His illusion had been flawless, the thermoreceptors responding accordingly. Which meant, Deidara had actually managed to break the genjutsu - but it didn't seem to be through conventional means. Itachi wasn't entirely sure how the other's eye device worked, not one to be that much interested in technology if he had to be sincere. But it somehow didn't feel like it'd been that? More like... something, whatever it might have been, startled Deidara and that's what did it. As if somebody else had jerked him out of the genjutsu, which made no sense because there was only the two of them there. Itachi even spared a good look around the room to ensure there were no other chakra signatures; you never knew when Zetsu might be hiding in the corner, creepily staring from inside a flower pot.

Nothing. Nobody. What in the actual Yomi.

«Careful what you wish for.»

ㅤThe tone now? It was as icy as the sensation had been before. In fact, he was one step away from walking out and go get Kisame, so that his partner could show his own definition of dropping a bucket of water on people. But that would have been to admit defeat, which in turn would have been utterly unacceptable. He was going to save Deidara from the scorching summer heat, it was not up for debate. Even if it required resorting to completely over-the-top and unnecessarily dramatic drastic means. That may or may not also result in worsening his own progressive blindness. Yes, it was getting personal.

So be it.

ㅤWithout breaking eye contact, the tomoes of his sharingan spun once and twice and thrice, each time faster, meeting at the center to form a three-pronged pinwheel pattern. And, just like that, it was still just the two of them but the room was no more. Instead, there was an endless expanse surrounding them from all sides, never-ending, much like the crimson skies above dusted with black clouds.

ㅤ«Let us try again and get serious, this time. Twenty-four hours ought to be sufficient.»

[chimerahyperfix]

isat everyone loops au but it’s very much a horror thing and it’s in like a conga line type formation. Based on the concept of saving the game lol. Only one person is looping and the LAST person looping is ‘Loop’ [aka they take their roles, its referred 2 as redacting in mmy notes as it basically removes them from the world entirely.] The timeloop goes through everyone, one at a time, all in a row, over and over. If your redacted you remember, until the next save happens and THEY redact and you aren’t anymore and you forget. Yeah the plot’s still 90% the same. Yeah the world kinda forms around the empty hole whoever is redacted has left. Loop is the only one who remembers everything and interacts with whoever is redacted and like…. is tthe reason the save stars exist? which makes them, technically, a secondary antagonist. Sorgy loop :[

oh to be in a cycle of love and hate and life and death and you! can’t escape! no one can! And you loop, and everyone loops, and it’s ssuffering all the way down!!!!!!!! rahhhh rahhhhhh

bonus redacted sif as an example. Haiiiii

[judasofsuburbia]

my therapist said the way i describe anxiety was so good that she's gonna use it to explain to other patients??? so i think i won therapy actually

[uldahstreetrat]

i quietly dropped a new commission option on my ko-fi, it's for a gpose ref sheet in the style i made for my sister the other day, i didnt want to open any comms this month cause i wanna be able to focus on art fight but my money's hit the point where i am panicking just a little so i just opened up something quick that i wouldnt have to draw for aha

so if you want a nice simple ref sheet and have a way to send me your character appearance data, hit me up! you'd really be helping me out this month <33

https://ko-fi.com/uldahstreetrat/commissions

[imavikingo]

Everytime I look at Tumblr and see the tl I remember why I hate endgame with a passion you couldn't understand.

They fucked up Steve and Bucky so bad (yes, Bucky too bc suddenly he doesn't matter/isn't even a secondary character that deserves to be near Steve)

It's so funny to me (not) bc they talked about gay characters being in the movie at panels and interviews and even talked about Stucky at some point (basically queerbaiting) for then... Steve not even acknowledging Bucky. An awkward and impersonal hug doesn't cut it.

And Steve suddenly yearning and talking about Peggy? When he didn't even mourned her that bad and already had let her go ages ago? They knew they fucked up in CATWS with Steve and Buckys relationship, so they tried to distance them and then inserted Peggy bc ofc

(they possibly didn't have the time for a new character and they already had fucked up pairing Nat and Bruce and Wanda and Vision). Steve didn't have anyone else he cared about so they couldn't give him a new girlfriend. So they used Peggy AGAIN.

I'm not mad bc "Stucky not canon grr"

No.

I'm fucking pissed off because they did the worst character assassination and friendship assassination possible. Every movie of Cap America revolved around Steve saving Bucky at some point and him caring about him above all else, and you want me to believe that Steven Grant Rogers didn't care about him when Bucky died in front of his eyes? AGAIN? That Peggy's death was more important and impactful for him? If that was the case then why the fuck did he crash the plane then? If he cared so much about Peggy since forever?

No, that was just lazy writing and a way to reinforce Steve's sexuality "He can't be gay and you can't say that bc he LOVES PEGGY"(even tho he only kissed her once, even tho he crashed the plane and didn’t give her the coordinates, he didn't really care that much after all) they could have paired him with Nat in later movies, but they didn't.

That's why I only raise my eyebrows a lil when people say that x character will be gay canonically in a marvel movie/series. Is more than possible they won't. And if they are they're Deadpool, a secondary character no one cares about (obscure in lore too, so they can cut them off) or is plain queerbaiting again (because yes, even if you don’t see Steve and Bucky’s relationship as romantic, they DID QUEERBAIT IT)

Steve and Buckys relationship wasn't even written in a romantic way (you can ship them or not), but they tried so hard to rectify Steve's heterosexuality in endgame, that they fucked up their character arcs on purpose. And now they will always feel hollow and inconclusive. A bad taste in the mouth, a painful reminder of what it was and a what? 11 year long? characterization.

Idk man, I know I've talked about this more than three times, but omfg Tumblr reminds me why I hate that fucking movie!!! It's not my fault!!!

I know I'm going to end up writing something out of spite bc I can't take it shdkdjjcif

"It's been more than 4 years get over it" NEVER

Also the bit with Johnny Storm in Deadpool and Wolverine was also a dig (a fuck you if you will) to the fans bc Deadpool explicitly calls him Cap. And it implies that Steve as a character (not that old Steve nonsense) won't be back.

It's funny they've remade over and over again some movies (Fantastic 4, Spiderman) changed actors for characters (James/war machine, Bruce) and they include them in the multiverse/plot, but they won't do the same to some movies and some characters when they fuck up their stories, because they know if they do, they will have to acknowledge WHY they did it. Like with James/war machine changing actors.

So yeah, that's one of the reasons I don't care about Marvel anymore.

**I mean remake the movies ((Also they Can't remake Cap America bc that would mean they need to remake every important movie. And they don't have the time, the money nor the need. So that's why they decided to fuck their character arcs))

or include some characters in multiverse (they're going to do that with Tony/RDJ/Dr Doom after all, no?) and they also won't remake Cap bc the movies are amazing.

But the point stands. Steve couldn't be in DaW bc that would imply he's an alternative one or that Old!Steve was an alternative one or wasn't even Steve to begin with. But they couldn't do that ofc, no, bc that would give the fans hope in seeing Steve and Bucky together once again. So they did a dig at the fans bc "haha you thought it was Steve, but it's Johnny!"

Idk if I'm making sense at this point I'm tired af, need to sleep.

The thing is that they fucked up Steve Rogers's arc on purpose (Bucky's too, and others charas too tbh) and now they expect the fans to accept everything they give us with open arms. And imho I won't accept shit.

"Deadpool saved the MCU" how? If the other og characters are DEAD or they fucked them up too? Or are the butt of the joke now? Don't make me laugh. Most people don't gaf bout the new charas bc they only are presented in series not everyone watches (only available in one place) or are presented with characters that are dead now or as a replacement for the og characters. They aren't interesting on their own (not really, at least in mcu) and that's why most of the new stuff isn't liked as much. If they wanted to present more characters the opportunity passed already.

Also now if you want to watch and really understand 1 movie (if you don't read the comics too) you need to watch like 20 other movies and 5 shows. it's fucking exhausting.

[hoppityhopster23]

If I ever piss any of you off, please tell me. Most of the time it’s not intentionally done.

And if I pull back from a friendship, 9/10 it’s me getting scared that I’m annoying you and don’t want to impose on your life and not you.

[ibrithir-was-here]

.

[aristocrating]

hey girl have you seen that canon kentparse timeline post? I swear I saw it floating around but now I can’t find it

this is the old guide we usually refer to but kvp90 did a recent version here:

[starry1avender]

prepared for whatever the night may bring

[transsexualhamlet]

literally just got detained by a cop with my kid brother for walking on an open paved park path 15 minutes after closing what even the fuck ever. didnt let us leave for a million years because we didn't have id on us. we're in our pajamas and clearly about to leave does this guy not have anything better to do with his life

[sbggarakungfood]

I'm very into Jay's villain arc, it's just.. the whole Agent Walker/ the Administration set up is what I’m more into because:

The portal in Jay's division could be the key to find Arin's parents

Potential Sora vs Jay fight would be so cool

Zane's nindroid but human identity thing?? How the Administration discriminates Zane somehow

Jay. He didn't care about his job right? But does he care about his underlings? Make him see how badly injured his people are.. and make it personal. Let him invent something

And

What about this 'master of lightning joining *the path of darknessssss*'?? Would this be another "They use me because of my power" "The universe called me here" "I have to do this for (reason)" "The Administration didn't pay me enough so I'm here to get another income"

Maybe it's unfair to judge like that since the tournament episodes haven’t released yet.. I'm sorry, I might miss inventor Jay so much.. By being Agent Walker that means he has to rely on that side of him more. Him vs Sora fight would feel.. something else. It won't be just a fight but also a brain game (possible dirty play?). Jay ripping bunch of mech's cables when I just want to see him using cool gadgets more than just shooting bunch of lightning (It’s not like they're going to explore that power this time). He already did good with a gun..

Jay with any weapon actually

[voltaridylla]

god im desperate to yap

[thesapphicsoldier]

THE ALLEY ROSE BRIDGE??? HELLO???

And I don’t even care

If it makes me sound insane

I ran my fingers through your hair

And I thanked god to touch the flame (1)

‘Cause I swore necks were made for bruisin’

I swore lips were made for lies

And I thought if you’d ever leave me

That I’d be the reason why (2)

And I don’t even care

If it’s just a summer fling

If it’s all experimental

And you go back to safer things (3)

But I swore hands were made for fighting

I swore eyes were made to cry

But you’re the first person that I’ve seen

Who’s proven that might be a lie (2)

1, okay pen game

2, I’m sobbing wtf

3, this is so queer coded to me

I’m actually screaming oh my god this is definitely gonna be a favorite