#but imma pretend

[squuote]

have this thing. miss himm

[lover-of-mine]

[stiffyck]

Desert duo but they are married just for the benefits.

(No one tell them there are no benefits to being married in minecraft.)

[creative-robot]

I know The Founders Cut, generally, is the edited scrubbed over version of genloss from Showfall in-universe (as well as a not-8-hour-long-three-stream-binge-night whenever we want to watch it again) but something that struck me as odd and I haven’t seen anyone mention yet, is this warning

It shows up right at the junction where the third act starts, where it appears the Hero is breaking free of Showfall thanks to Hetch. But here’s the thing, while a LOT less than the previous acts the audience still played a significant role in this act, even when really only given two audience interaction choices. Which makes me wonder, how real is this warning, and who is it for? Obviously the audience involved knows what happens past this point, but the audience is also implied to be an integral part of the Social Experiments, which is part of why things start to tweak out when the Founder removes them in the Founder Cut as the Generation Loss generation loses.

My first thought, was that obviously this is another bait and switch, a way to draw the audiences attention, seeing something that’s secret, something that’s not “meant for them”, which is a tactic I could see Showfall using in universe to keep people’s attention and add an air of mystery to their shows.

But

Showfall is doing all their experiments and these shows with a LOT of help from their censors to show it off, displaying a fun silly show that is definitely not uber fucked up and that is 100% just slime don’t worry about it, it’s kid friendly if it’s green! And I don’t think they’d want to bet all their cards on this one experiment doing well enough to their audience to not question the sudden shift in tone that follows this warning. Which makes me wonder.

They did their test, they did their experiment, and the evidence of this last act? I think it was a one time run, they don’t want anyone seeing this, it isn’t for the audience. Act three is specifically to both test and play with their Hero, Hetch’s new lines add a level to this, never once does he call the Hero by their name, just refers to Ranboo as their Role, and he’s not exactly. Nice? About literally any of Ranboos concerns, which wouldn’t really seem conductive to making an audience trust him, especially with his monologue at the end. Ranboo has escaped before, possibly right before act 1 started, they tightened the security on his mask to be unremovably part of them, Hetch doesn’t like the Hero but they’re a fan favorite so he can’t just get rid of them.

Act three is the cumulation of Ranboo being punished for things they don’t remember, for daring to break free from Showfalls control, this is Hetch taking the Hero and essentially majorly fucking and manipulating them to take his frustration out on a fan favorite they can’t otherwise get rid of or give a smaller role like Slimecicle. which is exemplified by the fact that we now know Charlie most likely was never able to actually able to fully snap out of the control, that even in act three in panic and confusion there was at least still a part of him being influenced by Showfall.

So the first two acts are the usual show, they have their posters, they have Squiggles to introduce them, they have goofs and silliness and only a couple slip ups that’re quickly dealt with, the usual rose tinted curtains. Act three?

Do not watch the following material

[doublxpresso]

『So... This guy's been clingy』

page 11 - 12

beginning << page 9 - 10 < . > page 13 - 14

[monkeybebop]

POV: Lacho approach you at the bar.

[bubble-dream-inc]

i was playing cod ghosts and i got some screenshots of a scene i had NO idea existed where keegan just shows up without any mask/balaclava at all and.

bro's so fuckin ugly what the fuck. i hate his buzzcut imma just stick to my undercut hc thanks

[minnesotamedic186]

*Blanket starts to wake up and stretches*

...mmm....

-@blanky-anon

*Blanket's, well their blanket, was folded in the edge of the bed*

[civetside]

Day 6 only one bed!! MAN i know the idea isn't super creative but the ol "i want to cuddle with somebody but they their pet/plushie is in the way" is one of my fav tropes

[doinggreat]

the end of a season without any trophies brings up mixed emotions. i should be angry, i should feel disappointed, but for some reason i dont feel this way today. im sad only because of the injuries amongst the players, which have been greater than ever this season (gavi and balde i miss you deeply 😭). but im extremely happy for our current team. i am happy for all the youngsters who made their debut this season. for lamine, who i think will continue to impress us with his goals and talent for many seasons to come (the second messi, as others like to compare, but i dont want to do that. i think this is our first lamine yamal. the one and only), cubarsi, fort, who will make sure that our goalkeeper has less responsibility, guiu, who can turn a game upside down in 17 seconds. even though we didnt win anything, i think we are winners in some way or another. we finally (again) have a team that loves barca, with blaugrana blood running through their veins. also very thankful to most of our veterans who keep the team together and to xavi who went through A LOT of shit this season, he didnt deserve the disgusting treatment from the media and some fans

barca hasta la muerte 💙❤️

ps i dont want to get all sentimental and shit but im also very grateful for the friends i made along the way this season

[lover-of-mine]

[intotheelliwoods]

gosh I need to draw the 2al boys in clothes more often-

This includes but is not limited too:

sprouts knee brace

poptart wrist brace (something new I want to try?)

sprout in more button up shirts

poptart in more pants... cargo pants and kackies me thinks

sprout wearing anything but jorts-

does a sprout on sprouts head count as clothes?

in general draw the masks more often

I NEED TO REMEMBER SPROUT HAS A MISSION FIT

poncho poptart poncho poptart poncho poptart

poptart clothes where the sleeve is sewn off or buttoned up or.... something

viking fits viking fits viking fits

[hellfiremunsonn]

Tell me this isn’t Enjolras core…

[amaranthdahlia]

one of the interesting things i thought about while brainrotting over afo and yoichis dynamic is their different way of convincing others despite how seemingly similar their methods were, how they embody the way of manipulation and persuasion. and this came up cus i was like lol kudou folded soo quick when yoichi started talking to him about helping izuku, and i was like, wait isnt that kinda like, afos tactics?? until my dumbass remembered there were actual terms for this online and searched it up

and well, the basic definiton of it both is that: manipulation is done for the manipulators own selfish benefit, while on the other hand persuasion is not for the persuaders benefit but for everyone elses, and if that doesnt represent the huge aspect on what ofa and afo is about .........

[sugar-omi]

im reading an article about masahisa fukase, who took pictures of his wife every day she left the house. (the book is called "from window"), because i saw *this tweet and started reading replies which led to me reading the article where it explains she divorced him and how he went into a coma for 20 years, where she visited him twice every month.

and let me quote this part to you

He died in 2012, having been in a coma for 20 years following a near-fatal fall down the stairs of his favorite bar in 1992.

Yoko visited him twice a month throughout his long limbo - though, heartbreaking, he would have been unaware of her presence. "He remains part of my identity," she said, adding: "With a camera in front of his eye, he could see; not without."

it also says that he wished to control yoko, and also the world, by taking pictures. hoping to freeze time. and.. imagine this, specifically this quote and fukase's wish, with baxter.

baxter who is so helplessly in love with you. he loves you so much, that he takes every chance to capture your beauty.

he loves every picture of you.

but he's so obsessed with time. with mortality. with you.

he's missed out on so much during his younger years. pulling away from everyone who did love him, pulling away from those who reached out their hand to him.

mostly kept away from genuine, friendly people. they always knew how to pull him in, he was a sucker for kindness and genuineness. like you and your friends, or like qiu, tama, and ren.

tried to please his parents at times, mostly tried to rebel and irritate them. and succeeded, even when he wasn't trying.

so many years wasted.. hiding and running from life's simple pleasures. from friendship and companionship

that's why he keeps taking pictures of you, keeps trying to capture the world in a still state. because maybe. if it freezes for long enough. he can catch up...

but also, if you're always willing to be his muse. always a subject of his work.. then he still has control of himself. his life.

you're a constant. something that always happens without fail.

without fail, before you go to your destination, you're at the bottom of your window, posing for him. making a face. shouting at him.

even if you're upset at him.. you wait under the window while he takes that picture, a frown deep on your lips.

it's not much, but he still has something always in the palm of his hand. and that's you waiting at the bottom of the window.

but he loves you. God he loves you so much. some days you don't take pictures from through the window, he's too sick to get out of bed or he's gone ahead of you.

some days you're upset with him, or running late, and the only picture he takes is your frame running for the bus, the edges of your silhouette fuzzy and blurred.

but he still has pictures of you on your date the next night, and he has pictures of your bare form the night before yesterday.

but he's so busy looking through the camera... changing the setting, wiping his lense, and sorting his photos. that he doesn't notice when summer turns to winter. or winter into next spring. doesn't notice the new lines on your forehead or how your fingers sometimes shake when trying to open a jar

doesn't notice the gray in his hair. not the.. deep gray of his natural hair. but the light gray strikes that turn to ribbons of gray and white.

doesn't notice how dull his wedding ring is from years of wear and lack of polishing. doesn't notice how his favorite dress shoes have scratches and scuffs along the side and tip of the shoe

doesn't notice that his dinner is cold. doesn't notice that you don't hug him back when you go to sleep. doesn't notice your lipstick doesn't stain his cheek when he sleeps, or that your hoodie is too heavy and big on his shoulders.

only notices when the sunlight from the window hits your face perfectly, and he sees the age.

only when you don't smile or tease or shout at him from below the window like before.

only when you ate before him, telling him you couldn't wait for him to take pictures. when you stop talking to him so cheerily. when you stop looking at him with admiration and love, with awe whenever he holds the camera so expertly and insists on having you as his muse

he compares the photos from your youth and he sees happiness, he sees love, and life and he sees his whole world.

now, in some photos, he sees tiredness and aching, defiance. irritation. boredom, even...

your back is to the camera more than before. when you are facing it, your chin is tilted towars your book, or your eyes are closed, sleeping in your fluffy king bed. the light doesn't bounce off your ring like it used to.

the ones of you smiling, laughing at him from the other side, makes his heart thump and clench. he's racing.

but in others you look tired of the camera. your lips aren't frowned, but they aren't smiling either. and your eyes are heavy, not with lust or mischief or drowsiness. it's exhaustion, but it's the mental kind. it's the kind where you're at the end of your rope with this camera forever at the other end of your table

you don't see your husband

you see a camera. the damn camera that haunts you nightly and daily.

of course, there are ones where you smile. you're not entirely miserable.

but instead of seeing his beloved muse, his darling spouse. his hearts treasure.

he sees his treasure on display. in their pretty glass case in the middle of the showroom. he sees a ballerina trapped in her music box, forever spinning to the same tune.

he sees Mona Lisa looking at him through her frame, smiling and revered.

he tries to pull you from that painting. putting on his scuffed dress shoes and that same brown suit from your first date, he sets himself on the other end of you. not the camera.

he can't help but think of how the low lighting of the restaurant would suck to take pictures in right now. that he needs his setup, and he wonders if they'd be willing to let him bring all that to capture the moment here...

but you're twinkling. like you're afraid to sparkle but too enthused not to.

he swallows around the urge to capture time claws at his throat. it's beating down the door to his chest and he's trying to keep it from his aching heart.

he does try.

but when you run ahead to see the ducks on the lake, floating on top of the pearly lake, he can't help that his phone camera finds your form

it's not nearly as good as a real camera. it's pixelated and fuzzy. he has to step closer to get more details

but it's worth it, the way your face is bright and the way the wind blows is unusually perfect, shards of light slip through the cracks of thick leaves overhead

and when you turn your head, wanting him to see the family of ducks on the water, you don't mind the phone in his hand.

if you step into the frame for a moment, return to the stage of your music box, it's okay. because today was beautiful. it was so beautiful.

you sat in bed with him, the only thing between you two, the thin bedsheets and the breakfast tray. and the sand is still between your toes, and your feet are terribly dry from dipping into the sea.

baxter retracing the steps of your second meeting, plus a few extra stops to new establishments youve been waiting to enter, new mueseums and front row to your favorite theater show.

and his hand solid in yours, his eyes stuck on you like glue... so it's okay to let him pet your cheek and kiss you in the middle of this park.

because your heart is beating again with excitement, and you're thrilled with how much you had fun today.

and the next time, when he plans a sudden getaway trip for you two.

it's okay if he points the camera at you. because when you're bored, or teasing, or angry at him. you snatch it from his hands and now you're staring back at pictures of his porcelain face. with the filter on, you notice a new beauty mark under his eye easily, but you never needed it to know. but he did.

and you tuck the only picture he let you keep of his irritated face into your nightstand once you're home, you stick it under the one of him shielding his eyes from the sun and when you open thay drawer, the only thing you see is the top of his head and the birds in the sky.

there's thrills. there's always been moments of thrills. that's why youre in the frame, that's why you're his muse.

but when the day is dull. and most days are dull. some days, a couple more than you'll admit, you are tired of the camera.

some days, you want to smash that camera. smash the camera and bang your fists against his chest, slap his cheeks until he sees without the lenses.

but then he grabs the camera, and he parts your knee for you. tucks that hair behind your ear. folds the cuff of your jeans the way he wants. clasps his jewelry on your neck or wrist

and then you pick up the frame, and immortalize the moment, because even though your heart aches. and aches greatly. you love how he looks at you. how he captures your every move as if you haven't done it a hundred times before...

[jellymish-reblogblog]

Hello tumblr, I really didn't want to do this today, but I'm going on a grumpy little walk for my health. UGH. UGGGGGH. RARGH.