#inside a mind already did a v good video on it but like. an in-depth analysis is always fun to see

[slut4daviii]

character(s): d.kaminari

pt: 02/02

cw: fingering, cum/anal eating, edging, praise kink(?), daddy kink, brat taming, caught, post-shower sex, mind-fucking, slight degradation, belly bulge, size kink, thigh-fucking (kinda)

your step-brother thought he had a few more minutes before you got out of the shower. he learns the hard way what happens when you’re caught masturbating.

a/n: i hate this shit sooo fucking much. | i gave up halfway through (thats what took it so long to come out. | minors and fem-aligned DO NOT INTERACT

title: whatcha up to, sparky?

wc: idefk (prolly 2000-2500)

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he only had another minute or two.

steam rose from the crevices of your locked bathroom; music blaring from the other side.

“[n—name]! ng—ngmh! nhg!….fu—fugk! right there!” the words left his mouth in an unceremonious fashion, sounding more like a broken record; he said it again, and again, repeating himself almost indulgently. a hand ghosted his twitching erection, blazing forth a sleuth of high-pitched moans.

your hands reached for the knobs, twisting it off in one swift movement.

“just a little longer baby.”

I—I can’t…! pl—please [name]! I need to— nghm! cum!” the machinery within his body continued to spear his insides, impaling the deepest depths of his mind. with a steady flow of electrons— curtesy of his quirk, the speed of his ‘toy’ increased drastically, now entailing itself into his stomach.

“mmhg! [na—name]! I—I’m gon—gonna cum!”

he listened intently, already having memorized the audio’s contents. your voice spoke to him, shooting daggers into his body.

“does my good boy wanna cum?”

Denki nodded— phonetically speaking through gritted teeth. “tes! [name] le—lemme cuhm!”

“no.”

his body retreated away from the sound, his head snapping backwards at the edging.

sweat trickled from his forehead, exhaustion clawing at his hips. he pressed your shirt— sweat-ridden and freshly used— further against his nose, inhaling deep breaths of your musky scent, the smell sending him overflowing with lust.

he squirmed against your sheets, moving his hands to slam your pillow over his face. “nmfgh…! [n—name]! mfg—ghm!” he pulled the pillow away— vision still slightly obscured by your shirt.

“aww, I’m hurt… comparing me to something as small as that.”

Denki shot up, his quirk mushing more elegant arcs of electrical surges into the machine— it picking up enough speed to make him lurch to his side. “uhng! wa—wait! wait [n—na]! wait, it—it’s not what—what it looks like!”

your body coupled into his vision, the tranquil curves of your muscles blurring behind the liquid wall of lust coaxing Denki’s body. beads of water rolled over your smoothing skin— the moisture from your shower still sticking to the surface of your body.

“oh? is it not? then what’s goin’ on, …zappy?” the nickname fell from your lips like a satin blanket, dully dressed in the glorious afterglow of pleasure.

the toy inside of Denki was still moving, strongly striking his nerves in mind-blurring fashion. “nnguh! it—it’s because of—of your v—oice! the video you made!”

you smirked, a dark chuckle leaving you. “so you watch my videos? that makes you a perv, y’know.”

Denki fumbled, his facade falter alongside the coiling strings of semen erupting from his slit. “unug—ha!” his moan was spun on the web of a gasp, snatching his body’s actions away from him. “I— uhg! …n—no! that’s n—not what I—nghm! meant!” he gulped back his shame, sitting up against your wall. “I— was j—just…” his eyes traveled everywhere, looking for a plausible explanation as to what he was very obviously doing.

you pushed off the frame of your door, dragging your tongue along the ridge of your teeth. “so what did you mean…Denk?’”

the way the nickname burrowed yourself into his skin make him quiver with anticipation. though he didn’t know what to expect. “anything you wanna say?” the question was laced with greed— almost as if you were teetering on the idea of turning him into a, your slut.

your knee connected with the edge of your bed, your weight dipping the mattress intolerably. the water from your hair dripped down your body, running circles on your torso before making way to your v-line. “I—nghm! I was, just… just trying to…” his eyes lowered. “uh! uhm, well… I guess you— we…!”

“eyes up here, Denk’.”

you brought your hand to his chin— almost in a cliché sense, your eyes locking in a one-sided battle. “so, Denk… what were you doing?”

you were hovering over him, your height difference clouding, if not completely obscuring his perspective. your bulge pressed into the cusp of his thighs.

a shallow gasp escaped you, your head dropping to look at him. his legs were shaking slightly, the skin of his body smooth and perfectly poised. “god, your so beautiful.”

Denki flushed; his eyes darting around articulately. his body was cleansed of its own blood, now replaced and replenished by the torrents of your own; he was bound to you. bound in your spell.

“is this my shirt?” his eyes finally focused, the grey material momentarily filling his vision before you took it from him. “is this where my clothes have been going? on your pervy little curves? helping you masturbate?”

“n—no! I haven’t been d—doing anything, man! I’ve ju—just been low on—NGHM!” Denki’s hands came up to your shoulders: gripping and scratching along the skin. “[n—name]! I—I just said that— ngh! I didn’t st—steal your cloths!”

your fingers intersected themselves in the innermost nerves of Denki’s body. he reflected the feeling of arousal in his eyes— the sensation causing the irises of his eyes to gloss over with tears.

“this isn’t about my clothes, Denk’” you groaned, feeling Denki’s legs press on the head of your cock. “its about you. and what you’re doing in my room. with my shirt over your face, and a fuck machine in your ass.”

you displaced your fingers, rubbing them along his prostate. “so, what exactly are you doing?”

Denki threw his head back— a sound erupting from his mouth in a dysphoric rage of moans. “mmgh! I— I w—was low on—ahgn!” a sharp thrust of your fingers stopped his sentence, his cock twitching with precum.

“stop lying Denk’ you know mom hates that shit.”

your cock throbbed painfully, the towel around your waist falling to your thighs— your cock rubbing against your step-brother’s abdomen. “c’mon Denk’” you almost whined, desperation washing over you in arcs of painful crescent moons. “I’m so… fuckin’ horny.”

your fingers glistened within him— a grandeur sound resonating within him. he audibly gasped at it, trying to move away from you but your sudden grip on his thigh altered his movements, making him slide under you instead.

he gulped, finding himself floundering around at the feeling of your cock against his stomach. it aligned with the skin just above his belly button. his movements were spastic, a jumble of jerks and twist sending molten plasma down your shaft.

“Denk…” your words were cold— rigid with seething but controlled gasp. “if you keep movin’ like that, I’ll cum.”

Denki blushed, a liquid crimson band covering his entirety. his movements momentarily halted, the surges of lust nestling into his stomach, coiling into a warm feeling that tightened with each move of your fingers

however, they left his body in a sickly masochistic way. you brought your fingers to your mouth and slid your tongue along the skin, maintaining a dysphasic tone of eye contact. the look in your eyes heating Denki’s body to an all time high.

your fingers, now covered in a flowing sea of spit and lube reached for Denki’s lips— breaking the surface of his mouth. his heartbeat was in his throat, yet, he still took your fingers into the depths of his mouth.

you played with his tongue, using your index and middle to balance the pink muscle in a titillating, slightly uncomfortable fashion.

you moved once more, shoving yourself into his throat. he choked and gagged, spitting around your knuckles but made no attempt to stop your brutality.

after a few seconds, you took your fingers away from him, letting him breathe.

“what were you doing in my room, Denk?” you asked once more.

“hnah! mng—h! I—I wasn’t doin’ anything, ma—man!”

you chuckled, moving your hand to your cock— stroking from base to tip. with your other hand, you wrapped his torso in your forearm, lifting him to your v-line. “tsk, tsk. mom would be disappointed.” your tip grazed his hole, “first, you have the shameless idea to masturbate in my room, then you lie about it.”

you pushed inward— also grabbing your shirt and shoving it into Denki’s mouth. he moaned around the fabric, his eyes crossing when you had yourself fully excavated within him. “I guess you’ve always needed a little more time to learn things…”

your hips fell away from him, dragging your tip down the ridge of his spine. the afterimage of your shaft was still intact; exhibiting through his pelvic muscles. it was filthy. utterly disgraceful to witness. “but… it’s a good thing you’ve got me.”

not a second later, his catalyst was filled once more, your cock reaching intolerably deep into his physique. his arms slid down your chest— leaving scarlet marks on your abdominal walls.

a hiss left your lips, the sound similar to a snake. you grabbed his wrist with one of your hands, using the other to snatch your shirt from his mouth. “haah! [n—name]! de—deep! c—cock too deep’n me…!”

you wrapped his wrist in your shirt, taking the edges of the bindings and crossing them into his drooling lips— the knot forming a gag. “my what?” you mocked, laughter soon filling your white-walls. “too deep? you were just using a fuck machine, jerking your dick to the smell of my clothes! now it’s too deep?”

you began thrusting shallowly, moving his thighs to your chest and pulling his legs to fall down your back. a swift motion of your hips shook Denki’s body, pushing him into his second orgasm.

he tightened around you, a convulsive throbbing in his cock and rapidly clenching hole gave way to the white twine and muffled moans of your step-brother. he thrashed his hands around— vigorously trying to grip onto anything.

you grinned at this, continuously thrusting into him. Denki felt his consciousness leaving him, his eyes falling lidded and heavy.

you, stuttering over the feeling of your own body, groaned profusely— your hips stinging with exhaustion. “you— mgh! you can’t handle my dick? if you wanna tap out, just tell me what you were doing in here.”

Denki mumbled, not knowing how to form correct words. “I—nguhm! ne— never anyth’ng! do th’ng!” he consulted his eyes, the orange pupils glass-like and heart-shaped. “nghu! FUGKH! m—man! ca—can’t think!”

a skeletal architecture altered into his body, forming a permanent semicircular shape— an arch lifted his body off the bed, rubbing your slit into his prostate.

both of your came— your cock trembling with painful arcs of melancholy emission staining the onslaught of Denki’s organs. his body spasmed with crude pleasure— his eyes rolling into emptiness.

his body went limp in your arms: mouth slack, eyes closed, and breathing shallow.

he’d passed out.

your body heaved, heavily burned from your orgasm. your cock was still deep within him, your semen creating a barrier between the two of you— however his warmth was still surrounding you in surreal relief. it begged you to keep going, begged for you to unload your balls and every drop of cum you had into him.

a gulp traveled intermittently across your tongue, cascading into your throat. you casually slipped your finger onto his waist— gripping the skin in a gentle embrace.

you pushed your pelvis further into him, your tip ramming against the bottom of his enclosure. your head tilted back, eyes closed with plenty more pleasure.

you pulled from him, slamming back against his skin in a single breathless moment. his body rippled through with waves of light. sweat enchanted his body like a giant cloud, puddling on his stomach— entrancing the skin alongside the pool of his cum.

you again thrusted into him— this time harsher. you were transported to another world, blissfully unaware of Denki’s stirring body. he was waking back up, his cock sleek with pre-cum.

his vision was still obscured, the feeling of fabric still plastered over his tongue. he whined, more pre-cum falling from his slit. “mghph— phuhk muh! [nuhmhe]! chaut c—can’t cuhm! n’more!”

you couldn’t hear him. you were completely lost in your own thoughts: the same words repeated throughout the entire time, “fuck him! fuck him until he can’t walk! fuck him! fuck him! fuck him fuck him fuckhimfuckhimFUCKHIMFUCKHIM!”

your thoughts mushed together, a singular statement that dug deeper and deeper into your mind. it burned into your brain, forcing your hips to move internally deeper, milking a third orgasm from Denki. he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, he was racked with tears— crying out in ecstay

you were panting heavily, biting down on your lip to keep your sounds of elation. your orgasm was slowly steeping upon you, the feeling setting off a buzzing sensation all over your body.

“fuuhk… Denki, I’m gonna— Imma cum.”

Denki’s legs shook with excitement, another orgasm rumbling through his body. he screamed around your shirt, pressing his hips against yours. spit dripped from his chin, running down his abdomen and onto his maroon shaded tip.

overwhelming coils of heat knotted within you, pushing your hips into an uneven pace

you weren’t aiming at anything, just hitting Denki’s body over and over again. you were chasing after an orgasm that was mere inches away.

sloppy thrust turned to harsh, animalistic tactics— erratically fucking Denki into the soft cloth rubbing against your balls. you were going crazy, the heat from your abdomen shooting into your tip, choking you in a panicked rage.

you leaned down to Denki, ripping your shirt from his lips, quickly replacing the cloth with the chapped skin of your lips. you messily kissed along his face, moving sloppily to his neck. “who’s your daddy?”

Denki moaned— the sound hoarse and cracking. “y—[name]! m’daddy! m’yer slut!”

the words only continued to edge you, your tip twitching inside him, “say it again— fuck… I’m so close to giving you my kids…!” your shaft throbbed at his mindlessness, the moans bouncing like embers from a raging river of fire. “please, say it again…! what’s my name, Denk?”

“daddy! da—duaddy! mngh!… ma’cuhm! cuhm n’daddy’s cock!” again Denki clench around you, his swollen hole screaming at you to keep going— keep abusing him until your name was spelled into his organs.

“fu—“ you couldn’t finish your sentence, a powerful surge of pleasure rushing through every blood cell in your body, energetically jerking your lower body around. like an angry explosion your cum clawed its way through you, pushing out any and everything you had within you, transferring it into Denki.

Denki’s cum was clear— thin and falling onto his pecs, dripping like water onto his face. he shivered at the feeling, not having the energy to move or even breathe correctly.

you sighed, head falling painfully to your pillow, the feeling of Denki’s hair right beside your face annoying the nerve endings of your skin.

you pushed his head away, closing your eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

until…

“[NAME]! DENKI! WHAT IS GOING ON?! WHAT ARE THE TWO OF YOU DOING?!!”

you gulped.

shit.

#dom male reader #gay #seme male reader #top male reader #mha smut #mha x male reader #mha x dom male reader #gay smut #bnha denki #denki x male reader #denki x dom male #denki x top male reader

[wyverwithy]

ne/xpo hinting at possibly covering catastrophe crow/crow 64 soon............you love to see it

#.txt #inside a mind already did a v good video on it but like. an in-depth analysis is always fun to see #the google doc has a Lot of info and theories that i've read through and a hyperfixation is threatening to pop up bc of it </3

[sleepdeprivedsloth]

The Beginning of Birthday Traditions

[MHA - Bakusquad]

summary: The Bakusquad has trouble coming up with a way to wake up Bakugou for a midnight birthday celebration that doesn’t result in them being buried six feet under. Mina then reveals a plan that would get the birthday boy to wake up with a smile on his face. (platonic Bakusquad tickle fic)

potential warnings: swearing, tickling

words: 2.1 k

a/n: how could i not write a lee blasty boy fic for his birthday ?? i absolutely  l o v e  the bakusquad they are literally so wholesome :,) anyways i hope you guys enjoy!

--

“It’s physically impossible to wake Bakugou up in the middle of the night and survive,” Kaminari tried reasoning with his friends. It was only a few minutes past midnight on April 20th, meaning that it was officially Bakugou’s birthday. The Bakusquad was currently gathered inside of Kirishima’s dorm discussing how they should go about celebrating the special occasion. Specifically, trying to figure out a way to wake up the birthday boy in the next dorm over that didn’t end with them getting sent to their graves.

“But we can’t just do nothing! The Dekusquad already threw a little midnight party on Tsu’s birthday,” Kirishima argued.

Sero gave a dejected sigh, “Yeah, you’re right. We can’t let them one-up us like that. I just wish there was a way to avoid him getting pissed at us for waking him. It honestly might ruin the whole birthday mood.”

Mina, who had chosen to stay silent and patiently listen to the hopeless discussion, decided that this moment was the perfect time to pull out and reveal her wild card to the rest of the group. With a small smirk and excited gleam in her eyes, she said, “Ahem, I may have some super exclusive, top-secret info that could allow us to wake up Blasty for his birthday and live to see the light of day.”

All heads immediately turned towards Mina, their gazes both intrigued and dangerously curious. Kirishima eagerly encouraged, “... go on..!”

Mina pulled out her phone and motioned for the boys to come closer. Without hesitation, they all crowded around the small device before Mina started playing a video.

The visual was extremely dark, but they could still make out the vague silhouettes of two boys. They seemed to be struggling against one another, the taller one fighting to get away from the shorter one’s strong hold around his sides. The audio was very faint, so the group had to strain their ears to hear what was happening.

“If we w-weren’t in the dorms right now I would not he-hesitate to blast your ass into nehext week,” a gruff voice threatened quietly.

Another voice gasped, and then spoke teasingly, “Did the Kacchan just giggle?” The shorter boy’s hands then traveled further up the taller one’s torso, going up to his ribs, and not even two seconds later, not-so-quiet laughter could be heard echoing throughout the dark room.

The camera recording suddenly turned towards the ground and started shaking around, showing Mina’s blurry, socked feet quickly pattering away, before the video abruptly ended.

The Bakusquad slowly brought their heads back up to face one another, the boys all sharing the same dumbfounded, gaping expression and Mina looking smug as hell.

Kaminari was the first to speak up, barely able to contain his newfound excitement. “No way. No. Freaking. Way.”

A mischievous smile formed on Sero’s face as he said, “This is just too good to be true.”

“I know right!!” Mina exclaimed, obviously very proud of capturing the personal and adorable Bakugou moment. “Who would’ve guessed that our resident boom boy is ticklish?!”

“Sooo.. we’re all thinking the same thing right?” Kirishima asked, looking over at each of his friends expectantly.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Sero said, while Mina and Kaminari nodded in agreement.

“”So what are we waiting for?!” Kaminari declared while standing to his feet. “Let’s go give the birthday boy the wake-up call of a lifetime!”

After the rest of the Bakusquad got to their feet, they all excitedly rushed out of Kirishima’s dorm and into the hallway. Once outside of Bakugou’s dorm, Kirishima pulled out the spare key the blonde had given him that was supposed to be used strictly for emergencies, but he honestly thought that their mission could be considered a birthday crisis of some sort.

Kirishima unlocked the door and quietly pushed it open, just enough so that he could briefly peek inside to make sure that Bakugou was asleep. He then pushed the door wide open, allowing him and the others to sneak inside the pitch black room. They made sure to close the door behind them and leave the lights off, but the group could still see each other’s shining, playful grins.

The Bakusquad crept over to Bakugou’s bed and saw him sleeping peacefully and softly snoring. Perfect. Kirishima and Sero crouched down onto the ground near the foot of the bed and gently pushed the blanket out of the way to reveal Bakugou’s bare feet. Meanwhile, Kaminari and Mina quietly climbed onto the bed and settled themselves on either side of the sleeping boy.

From the floor, Kirishima motioned for them to start putting their plan into action. After a quick nod, Mina slipped one of her hands underneath Bakugou’s tank top and started lightly tracing her fingertips along his bare stomach. Not long after, his face scrunched up and his body slightly curled inwardly on itself, trying to escape the soft sensations.

Deciding to step it up a notch, Mina ran her fingers over his side, not too hard as to immediately wake him up, but just enough to get him sleepily squirming. Bakugou lazily brought an arm down across his torso, his unconscious mind telling him that it was just a bug.

Desperately wanting to get in on the action, Kaminari slithered his own hand underneath Bakugou’s top and slowly dragged his slightly wiggling fingers from the birthday boy’s stomach up to his ribs.

Bakugou twitched awake, sleepily whining a small, “Son of a-” before he opened an eye to see what had woken him up while Kaminari and Mina quickly retracted their hands. He had definitely not been expecting to see people sitting next to him on the bed in his dorm, causing his eyes to widen and his body to jolt out of shock. Once his sleep-filled mind had actually caught up to what he was seeing, Bakugou was able to recognize and identify the two smiling faces as Mina and Kaminari. He let out a small sigh of relief before relaxing his body and closing his eyes again, mumbling, “Pinky? Dunce? Th’ hell you two idiots doin’ in my bed ‘n the middle of th’ goddamn night?”

“Actually, there are four idiots. Kiri and I are here too!” Sero pointed out with a suspicious amount of energy and excitement, but Bakugou was so tired that he honestly couldn’t care less.

In fact, the blonde had already started falling back into the depths of sleep, only letting out a small, “Mhmm.. get out losers,” in response.

Kirishima dragged a singular finger down the length of one of Bakugou’s feet. “C’mon Bakubro, you gotta wake up!”

Bakugou’s breath hitched before he immediately pulled the attacked foot back underneath the protection of the blanket. “Don’t do tha’ shit. I- Jus’ let me sleep, guys.”

Kaminari butted in, bravely placing a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder to gently shake him awake, “But we need you awake! Do you even know what day it is?”

Bakugou shrugged Kaminari off and completely ignored his question, instead tiredly mumbling, “Make sure to lock th’ door on your way out.” A few moments of silence passed, and the birthday boy was on the cusp of falling back into a deep sleep, when he suddenly felt soft fluttering on both of his feet and down his sides. Fingers were lightly grazing over the balls of his feet, dipping into the arches, and circling the heel before going back up and starting all over again. Small squeezes were given spontaneously along the length of both sides of his torso, traveling from his waistline all the way to his lower ribs. 

He tried to pull away from the gentle touches, but found that all four of his limbs were being pinned to the bed. Shit. He was so screwed. Bakugou tightly squeezed his eyes and tried to keep his mouth clamped shut, but he couldn’t prevent the tired smile and sleepy giggles from inevitably escaping. Normally, he would be fighting like hell to keep his laughter under control, but he was freaking exhausted dammit! “Whahat the- shihihit! What do you dahahamn extras think you’re doHOHOING?!” Bakugou’s laughter unconsciously became more desperate and louder when Kaminari suddenly wiggled his fingers higher up on his ribcage.

Noticing the increased reaction, Mina started focusing her tickling on his higher ribs as well. “We’re tickling you! I thought that was pretty obvious.”

Bakugou tried to thrash his way out of his captors’ grasps, but he was heavily outnumbered and disadvantaged. Still, there was no harm in fruitlessly trying. “Leheheheave me alohohohone! I’m nahahahat even tihihihickli-AHAHahaha!”

“Hmm.. I don’t know, dude.” Sero playfully teased. He pulled back Bakugou’s toes with one hand, using the other to gently flutter his fingers on the sensitive space in between, rewarding him with more thrashing and a shriek that dissolved into uncontrollable laughter. “Seems like you’re pretty ticklish to me.”

“NOHOHOHO I’M NAHAHAHAHAT!! WHIHIHIHI-WHY ARE YOU ASSHOHOHOLES EVEN DOHOHOING THIHIHIHIHIS?? HAHAHAVE A DEAHAHATH WIHIHISH OR SOHOMETHIHING?!” Bakugou attempted to threaten his friends, but his bright smile, joy-filled laughs, and adorable blush covering his face counteracted the murderous words.

Kirishima was dragging his index finger along the padding of Bakugou’s toes, occasionally dipping down in between them and giving a little wiggle, causing the blonde to give out a little squeal each time. “Because it’s your birthday!”

“Yeah, we have to wake you up so that we can celebrate together!” Kaminari exclaimed. He moved both of his hands to grab at either side of Bakugou’s hips and repeatedly squeezed. With his head thrown back from the force of his hysterics, Bakugou bucked his waist left and right, trying to dislodge Kaminari’s fingers.

“YOHOHOHOU IDIOHOHOTS ARE GONNAHAHAHAHA REGREHEHEHE- AAAAAAAHHAHAHAHA!!” Bakugou started pulling at his arms desperately, bouts of laughter pouring freely out of his mouth, as Mina trailed her hands upwards until they wiggled against his highest ribs, only an inch or two away from his armpits. “NAHAHAHAHAHA! NO MOHOHOHOHORE, NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE!!”

With a villainous look in her eyes, Mina dug her fingers into the spot with more purpose and vigor, while Bakugou absolutely lost his mind to the sensations. “We’ll stop as soon as you promise that you’re gonna have tons of fun on your special day!”

Sero quickly half-jokingly added, “AND that you won’t kill us for waking you up.”

“OKAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY!! WHAHATEHEVER JUHUHUST LEHET MEHE GOHOHOHO!!” 

“Not enough, Bakubro. You gotta say that you promise!” Kirishima teased.

“ALRIHIHIHIHIGHT IHIHIHI PROHOHOHOMISE!!”

Kaminari leaned down next to Bakugou’s ear, brought his hands up to his bare armpits and started creating feather-like flutters while whispering, “Say that you pinky promise, birthday boy~”

Bakugou’s blush only deepened as he fell into silent hysterics for a few moments, tears of mirth gathering in the corners of his eyes. Seeing that Bakugou was being tickled beyond the point of responding, Kaminari mercifully stopped his fluttering, but kept his hands rested on Bakugou’s armpits and slowly drummed his fingers against the soft skin. Once able to verbally form sentences again, Bakugou pleaded, “Pihihihinky prohohomise! Ihihihi pihihihihinky prohohohohomise!!”

The Bakusquad all immediately ceased their tickle attacks and released their hold on Bakugou’s limbs. The blonde quickly tucked his arms and legs back underneath the blanket and curled in on himself, trying to catch his breath and slow the stream of leftover giggles pouring out of his mouth. “Dohoho nohot e-hehe-ever doho thahat agahain asshoholes.”

“No promises on that one, Blasty,” Mina declared while Sero and Kirishima got up from the floor and joined the others on top of the already-crowded bed.

“Oh yeah, we’re totally doing that again!” Kirishima excitedly commented. “We’ve seriously gotta make wake-up tickles a birthday tradition in the squad.”

Bakugou groaned fondly at their silliness, a soft smile still present on his lips. The others all shared a look with one another before exclaiming, “Happy birthday, Bakugou!!”

When the birthday boy looked up, he saw his friends all wearing the same stupidly huge smile on their faces and doing dramatic, and surprisingly synchronized, jazz hands that they must’ve practiced on together for hours. He let out a few chuckles, “Yeah yeah, whatever losers. So what are we gonna do for the next five hours before class starts?”

“Wanna go raid the kitchen for snacks and play Mario Kart?” Sero suggested.

“Obviously, just don’t throw a tantrum when I completely dominate all of your asses!” Bakugou quickly challenged.

“Tough words for someone who’s deathly ticklish…” Kaminari teased with a knowing smirk.

Bakugou buried his head into one of his pillows to hide the oncoming blush and nervous smile quickly spreading across his face. “... shut up..”

--

a/n: ahaha not me posting in the middle of class :D but i really hope that you all enjoyed reading this and thank you for taking the time to do so!! I’ll be posting my fandom list tomorrow because i love procrastinating on it lol have a great life guys!!

#bnha #bnha tickle #mha #mha tickle #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #kirishima #eijiro kirishima #kaminari #denki kaminari #sero #hanta sero #mina #mina ashido #ler!kirishima #ler!kaminari #ler!sero #ler!mina #lee!bakugou #ticklish!bakugou #bakusquad #platonic #tickling #tickle fic

[mochuelovelli]

GAAAAHHH OKAY

Let's talk about the Timephoon Episodes

This is such an old topic of discourse but after reading many fanfics, videos, and some posts on the subject I have found little divergent takes on the whole subject.

While commentators are of the mind that, for the most part, the punishment and execution of said punishment for Louie's actions were partially if not fully justified but how she went about it was wrong.

Some fanfic writers and some subsects of the fandom but they are much more critical and often in a more black and white interpretation. Which is valid for vent art. However, I find both these portrayals to be lacking in some nuance.

Specifically when it it comes to who's to blame for the next 3 episodes, and to me, its more than just Della (and Louie but there really isn't much discourse here).

Let's start with Timephoon:

This pretty much solidifies their relationship throughout the episode[Also sorry for no captions]. Multiple times Della is shown to have a very laissez faire style of parenting as she primarily wants her kids to enjoy being kids and having fun. This is probably in part to her personality in general - which is probably what Beakley assumes here - however it is also her want to be loved by her children and even more critically, she doesn't ever want them to suffer like she did. Above all else, she wants them to be happy and feel confident in themselves. We see this in all the previous episode with her and her kids - From Dewey and reassuring him that he doesn't need to prove himself to her [notably in this episode she only shows concern when Dewey himself is in danger, she doesn't give a shit when he almost kills her] to Huey and helping him to have the most fun he possibly can, to even Webby and making sure that she also feels confident in herself regardless in how she goes about things.

Bringing up all these adventures does raise some pretty damning hypocrisy. Della encourage Dewey's reckless behavior in his episode. The lesson at the end wasn't, okay maybe we shouldn't be going on dangerous adventures, it was its okay to be afraid and you don't need to prove to me that you're great I already know you are. Huey's message was similar, albeit more low stakes. Webby's lesson wasn't even that she shouldn't be trying to take such risks to find adventure in the future, it was just a lesson in not being disappointed when things don't work the way you want.

So why wasn't Louie's adventure treated the same? Well... let's look at some more examples of Beakley V Della this episode before we answer that -

This is right before the kids find Bubba, Beakley's reaction is what most people would consider to be parental as she is concerned for the safety of the kids running out in a hurricane. Again we see Della acting casual.

Once Bubba is inside and Huey geeks out about him, Beakley actually smiles bc she knows that something like this means a lot to Huey [keep this in mind for l8r]. She only gets serious after Della says it's neat without much after thought so she gives the lesson of the episode - "Small problems become big problems later if not prevented early."

Next we have Della's faux attempt at being strict with her kids. Letting the irresponsible thing happen as long as they are "safe". While also harkening back to her previous episodes where she also is shown to have this attitude that "the kids can do anything as long as they are safe with ME or Scrooge or another SAFE adult", it is also good to note SCROOGE'S expression here to her patting herself on the back for her parenting. Now he could just be confused as to why Della is taking this "lesson" as a win, but he could be noticing that she really doesn't know what she is doing but unlike Beakley doesn't make any attempts to correct this.

Another scene that people often forget when reviewing this episode, just like with all her other kids she at first takes LOUIE'S side and decides they should just roll with the punches like always. Which honestly is sort if valid because that's kinda Scrooge's whole MO; though he also had others to there to keep him afloat but we all know someone like Scrooge, Della, and the kids hardly see that. I also want to hammer home that, just like with the other boys, she doesn't shy away from displaying that she loves them ALL. A few seconds later, it's subtle but she is shown smiling and patting Louie on the head because like the other kids she just wants him to feel supported. If I was to be critical, I would say this is possibly because she likes the IDEA of her boys more than them but I mean - this is pretty much everyone's attitude towards kids. It might be amplified bc of her trauma but it's not unusual. But even still I would argue that she mainly does love the boys for who they are as she is excited to get to know them.

After Della figures that they are looking for a "master thief", Scrooge and Beakley immediately know it's one of the kids. Shocking her since she later states she is of the belief that her kids are too "good" to do something like this. I also want to bring attention, again, to Beakley smiling (ik im putting a lot of stock into expressions but animation tends to do stuff like this for a reason). She is smiling at whom she expects is Dewey for messing with time and space. Bc even if she planned to scold him, she knows it's just their normal. Scrooge seems to also be of the same mind. Later Beakley gives a really good line about "Even good kids can do dumb things. We got to make sure those dumb things don't turn into bad things like destroying all of existence!".

Mrs. B exists stage right

All jokes aside, this must have been a nightmare for all of them but especially Della. She had just finally admitted that she was out of her depth and made another mistake in parenting. But now it seems like she lost her chance to rectify that. Because for all she knows, Mrs. B will never come back. This is import-ALLRIGHTWEGETIT

Della is then shown explicitly worried about her family. Emotions, insecurities and fear obviously getting the best of her. We don't know exactly what she is thinking but we know she is terrified of the possibility of losing one of her kids. When she asks about Louie, she probably thinks he must have disappeared without her knowing. That she might have already failed more than she could know, because she wasn't there to protect him. She doesn't know - she is "Della Duck" and she doesn't know how to fix this. She didn't expect everything to go so horribly wrong, but that's her theme isn't it?

She is both relieved and understandably PISSED when finding that Louie was responsible for almost destroying the fabric of reality (let me say this again, nearly destroying the fabric of reality). She goes scold both herself and her son about the danger he put them in. Later we see Della, the last one leave and seeing almost everyone she loves vanish. We don't know how long each of the characters who left were in the past but we can assume it was long enough to have to change clothes. Yeah this was probably more of a visual gag but like, the other past characters didn't change their outfits when they came to the present so - (also Launchpad was specific about knowing how the world ends so he had to be there enough for him to understand it). Side note someones gotta write fanfic of these characters time misadventures. I wonder if Dewey and Webby ran into Agent 22.

[Last picture of the infamous scene, side note did anyone notice Launchpad NODDING his head when Della mentioned his time schemes could've cost them their future? He's the only one who knows what happened so maybe Louie's misadventure has more impact than we think-]

Anyways, yeah we know what was said here. But I think it's important to see the reaction the other adults (sorry LP, and Gryo i GUESS) have here BC this is basically why I made this post. What Della decided to do was unquestionably the wrong decision, at least her way of going about it and I will not absolve her of her many MANY mistakes. However, let's remember she wasn't alone in any of this. She was with other parental figures who KNOW more about her kids than she does.

After Louie leaves, why did they think it was good to encourage this course of action? Why did they think giving full parental control to a PTSD, trauma survivor who barely got back less than a month ago was a good idea? Sure it's one thing to not want to overstep your boundaries but are you telling me they wouldn't want to guide her in the right direction at least? We KNOW both Beakley AND Scrooge have their grievences towards Della's parenting strategy or lack there of. Beakley so far doing the most to try and put her in the right direction (which speaks volumes to the problems Scrooge has).

So why wouldn't they explain that, hey, maybe taking away the one thing your kid thinks he is good at ISNT a great idea? Why didn't either say anything about their two day vacation? Something that came up presumingly on a whim and might of prevented (although i doubt it) Louie from trying to steal w/ time? He might have considered pushing back time schemes at least 3 days later. While Mrs. Beakley might be less aware of Louie's insecurities and ambitions, Scrooge definitely isn't. He should have talked to her, and hey we don't see what happens before they leave so maybe MAYBE they did. But again, I doubt it. Seeing as how they all agreed with her at the end, I don't see them trying to meddle with her.

But they should've. They are both experienced guardians and they have nothing to say to her? Plus Donald (goddamn it i almost finished a post w/o him) have THEM responsibility to take care of the kids NOT Della. So they are obligated to help her. Really, the other option other than just well negligence would be not thinking this punishment was a big deal. I wish this aspect was also scrutinized just as much as Della and Louies role in this arc.

Beakley and Scrooge (more so Scrooge) are just as much to blame in what happens as Della if not MORE since they know of her situation in only a way that an experience adult can. There is no excuse for their negligence.

#god this was so long #i just need to rant #i hope im not alone on this feel free to comment or ask me about this crap i dont mind #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #della duck #mrs beakley #scrooge mcduck #dt17 #ducktales timephoon #discourse #i guess #this is misleading this was basically just Timephoon bc u ran out of space so part 2 maybe?

[robin-blogs]

-11.03.2021- Thursday Lecture Surrealism

The beginning of this lecture started with Julie showing a video of the brief history of surrealism which was presented by Peter Capaldi. I already found myself at ease with this formatting of information as I often find it very difficult to have a good basic understanding of a subject through how its presented by master’s degree lecturers. I have always found it difficult to gain a good understanding on the basics and in-depth segments of subjects and art movements such as surrealism or post-modernism (( or any )) as I cant take in the information the way its presented to me. I’ve tried multiple times to purchase and read books on several art movements and pivotal moments in history, but I just can’t take it in and understand it, and I find it makes some of these lectures difficult for me. I know the lectures cant possibly fit around my specific way of learning and taking in information, but part of me wishes they had more videos like this at the start of each lecture on a subject, or a simple overview of what it is. Even if it was just something they decided to email out after each lecture as a way of helping others like me gain a better understanding and foundation of each subject. Overall, I felt I learnt a lot about surrealism just from this small segment from TATE Shots. For example I learned how surrealism started in 1924 in the Les Deux Magots café by poet Andre Breton, which is something I never learned from all the over-complicated books and websites I found on surrealism as they always seemed to be over pinned by words I didn’t understand or pages of text before getting to where it started in the first place – its something very confusing and frustrating for me when this is something that seemingly comes so easy to others. I was happy to learn more throughout this clip such as how Breton published a manifest that was inspired by psychoanalysist Sigmund Freud who then wrote a book called The Interpretation of Dreams. Throughout this book he explored the idea of which he believed there was a deep layer of the human mind where memory and our most basic instincts are stored – he called this the unconscious mind, as most times we were unaware of it. Breton believed that art and literature could represent the unconscious mind. He found artists who also followed this belief such as Salvador Dali, Max Ernst, Meret Oppenheim and Claude Cahun - ((one of my personal favourite surrealist and Dadaist artists!)) Throughout the video it is then explained how a lot of surrealist art was about sex as Freud believed the motivation for all things in life was sex, to which he then later changed his mind. Surrealists enjoy putting objects together that aren’t normally associated with one another; a form of juxtaposition; to make something that was playful and disturbing at the same time in order to stimulate the unconscious mind. Something interesting I found when looking at the visuals shown throughout this explanation in the video was how I felt oddly connected to the idea of the fox head and the metronome and its additionally something id like to explore through a sketch of my own as a direct inspiration from this lecture and the movement of surrealism.

*show my sketch//idea – blood, metronome ticking and cutting throat, blood pooling*

Throughout this video it was also explained how there are two kinds of surrealist painting: one about dreams featuring lots of Freudian symbols such as apples, hats and birds. The other called Automatism, inspired by Freud’s idea of free association which was deigned to reveal the unconscious mind. An example of Automatism is a piece by Joan Miro with his piece Painting’ made in 1927. This piece is mainly blue as Miro liked to interpret dreams using the colour blue, the shapes are arbitrary and random as if drawn from the artist’s unconscious mind. Miro’s conscious mind has then turned the shapes into objects such as a shooting star, a breast or a horse.

There were also surrealist films such as the most famous called Un Chein Andalou in 1929 by artists Luis Bunuel and Salvador Dali. This film was best known for its scene in which Bunuel’s eye is cut open. I understand how some people are very put-off by this scene, which is understandable! For this reason I won’t be showing an image or clip of it for those sensitive to this sort of film, but for those interested just search Un Chein Andalou on YouTube :)  I have always felt very drawn to this specific part of the piece, mainly for its intensely gory visuals of an eye being sliced open. I’ve always been very drawn to gore and horror within my own artwork and it’s something I find inspiring when I see elements of it with other artists work too.

Towards the end of the lecture it was explained how some people didn’t like surrealism, even Freud didn’t like it. He spent his life deciphering the codes of the unconscious mind so that people could understand themselves better. The thought artists should paint the conscious mind rather than wasting their time painting Freudian symbols such as apples, hats and birds. Although still even to this day, surrealism has had a large impact on culture and society as Breton said Surrealism is not just an art movement, it’s a way of thinking, a way of life, a way of transforming existence.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPD6okhfGzs

After this segment of the lecture, Julie then went to talk about different theories and methodologies to look at Surrealism through. The first she talked about was Biographical Theory in which you focus on the biography of the artist and how the work reflects the artists personal history or personality.

The next one to be talked about was Psychoanalytical Theory which is the method in which you analyse a physic or emotional phenomena. Psychoanalysis has been used at various times to address the subject matter or content of individual artworks; he relationship of artworks to the artist; the relationship of the viewer to the piece and the nature of creativity itself.

The last to be talked about was Reception Theory in which it argues that the viewer actively completes the work of art. Gombrich described this as ‘the beholders share’ – the viewer brings their own stock of images and experiences when they view the artwork.

One of the first pieces to be shown within the lecture was a piece by James Durden called Summer in Cumberland painted in 1925. When talking about this piece I realised Julie using reception theory when she started to tie in her own experiences of being a female when she commented on how the women depicted inside the house are trapped behind a wall; that wall being physically represented by the wall and windows of the house. They are shown as being enraptured by the domesticity of life as they are shown sat together drinking tea, dressed up nicely and seemly have nothing better to do than to talk to the cat. Meanwhile, the only man depicted in the painting is shown looking into the house freely while all the landscape is outside, belonging to the same side as the boy while the women are separated from the outside by a wall.

Another piece shown within this lecture was the work of Leonora Carrington. In the beginning of this segment Julie showed an interview with Carrington in which she was asked about her work. She then replied with “You’re trying to intellectualize something, desperately, and you’re wasting your time. That’s not a way of understanding, to make a sort of mini-logic, I’ve never understood that role.” When I heard her say this within the interview, I felt myself having such a strong connection to her. This is something I’ve had an issue with for a long time when considering my own work, how people always immediately go to the insides of something to try and find meaning or something larger than what it really is. It really bothers me, and I can see how it bothers Carrington too. For this reason, out of respect of Carrington, I wont delve into the meanings behind her work or try and find some intellectual meanings behind it as its clear this isn’t how she intended her work to be seen, especially considering she flat out said it herself. I really respect how she was clear about this, and how she refused to talk about her work at all throughout the interview and instead went to criticize why there needed to be any explanation of it in the first place. I really respect the response of that.

Overall, I found this lecture to be inspiring and intriguing. Although I found it intriguing how I learnt more from a short 5 minuite video breaking down surrealism than I did during the hour and a half lecture about it. Although I know this is just my personal way of learning and it isn’t a criticism of Julie, I loved this lecture and I found it interesting to see how others see surrealism, its just not how I would personally go about learning about this subject.

[princesskokichi]

yasuhiro hagakure v. the ocean

hah, alright This is something that gets my blood pumping :D

ah, tw warning : major character death, drowning - mod kokichi

- he had lived in hiding for three years

- he was living the good life for three years, not leaving a paper trail behind him, using his ' gift ' of clairvoyance to help those around him and in turn, gaining more weight on his small fortune

- and then they found him

- once you're deemed an enemy of the yakuza, there's not much you can do to lengthen your time on this planet

- he had already known that, but for some reason, had decided that this way of going out wasn't fit for him, and he ran

- he ran, and he ran, away from those out for his blood, his fortune

- he didn't know how they found where he was hiding, but the moment they stormed his place, he knew something was going to end poorly

- guns were out of holsters, pointed directly at his forehead with their sights on murder if he didn't comply with the wishes of those enforcing their own law

- ah, damn yakuza ,

- he had his hands up, the dust from the cheetos he was eating while watching some youtube video that was still playing in the background on his laptop still on his fingertips

- yasuhiro : " woah, calm down everyone. everyone gets a free first reading from me, so there's no reason to pull out guns. "

- there was no response unless red sight lasers pointed at his forehead counted any

- a short female - roughly about 5'3 he would say, he almost never forgot details about his clients - stepped into his room, her nose turned up at the sight of him

- ??? : " a filthy place for a filthy creature. take him out of here. get him somewhere safe. "

- yasuhiro : " natsumi, is this something you need to take a break to think about ? i think if we calm down for a moment and look around instead of looking down at me, i think you'd see that doing,, whatever you're planning to do, wouldn't help anything. "

- natsumi laughed. it was that kind of laugh full of malice, yet slightly scared for her own safety.

- whether or not she was doing this out of her own hatred for him or to preserve the kuzuryu family name, yasuhiro already knew that this wasn't something that he could talk his way out of,, whatever " this " was.

- for such a cute person, she could be such a bitch,,

- he was pushed away off of his couch, his hands tied with what felt like some coarse rope behind him while he was walking

- gosh, they were really serious about this, weren't they ?

- the next thing he remembers was a blur. he could recall going into the back of a van, talking a little with a few of the men who'd now adult-napped him, and gave one of them a very half assed reading

- and then he was in a chair in a room that he couldn't make anything out of

- there were shackles around his wrists and feet, and there was something that he was pretty sure was a handkerchief keeping him from talking

- every move he made was accompanied by the sound of metal chains clinking together to support the new change

- there was a voice overhead on a pair of speakers. it wasn't natsumi, but sounded like it was coming from an older male. he assumed he was listening to the little girl's father, which was a lot more worrying than if he was listening to her brother or something.

- the current head of the clan was known to be precariously ruthless to people with the red stamp on their foreheads dubbed the enemies of the yakuza

- this was a bad sign

- ??? : " are you a fan of the water ? perhaps you're a good swimmer. don't get me wrong, you were brave. running away from us for three years is a feat in itself, but this is the end of your little run. did you see this coming, clairvoyant ? "

- water ? they were in a room, he had no idea what that man meant by water.

- and then he heard it

- the faint whirling sound of an engine, steady with its work as it leads him somewhere, presumably with water

- the reality of the situation hit him quickly, forcing him to realize that this was not going to end in a pretty manner for him

- the ocean

- a cargo plane

- oh, oh fuck no,,

- he couldn't die here ! not at the hands of a client gone wrong ! there was no way this was going to happen

- at any time now, he was going to get pulled back by a rope or something and this scare would be the end of it

- in his panic, he realized how hard it was to breath already, trying halfway to breathe through his mouth and sort of breathing through his nose

- the latch of the plane opened up before he was even ready to accept reality. this was really happening.

- ,, was this the end ?

- the cargo plane took a sharp incline upward, bringing the chair that he was shackled to forward with gravity, edging closer to the opened end

- boxes that were also in the back began to shuffle towards to the end, pushing him even further until there was no going back, and he was looking at the edge of the plane into the crystal clear blue water, already littered with a few heavy crates that had fallen

- it only took one particularly heavy box to push him off the edge, falling into the unforgiving ocean

- he hit the surface of the ocean with so much force that it knocked what little breath he had in his chest

- his first immediate reaction was to try to swim towards the surface, even as it began to slowly get further and further away from his reach

- yasuhiro struggled to hold his breath, the burn in his lungs forcing him into the submission of needing air

- he flailed his shackled arms and kicked his feet, only able to produce a few bubbles as he sunk further into the unending ocean

- the chair he had been tied to had broken apart from the impact of hitting the face of the water

- he grunted through the cloth gag, his front canine teeth digging into the inside of his lip, tearing the skin and letting his blood drift in the water in front of his face

- he looked at it as if he'd never seen blood before

- by now the urge to breathe was too much, he couldn't make it

- he unintentionally tried to breathe through his nose, his body and nerve system now working just to find any air around him that could keep him alive, even if there was only water around him

- as the water filled up his system, the burning in his chest made tears come to his eyes

- he hadn't given up, not yet

- yasuhiro forced his head back, his hair obscuring his sight as he moved his shoulders and arms frantically, trying to loosen the chains around his wrists, or somehow escape

- he tried calling out for help, even though in the back of his sane mind he knew it was useless, his voice coming out as muffled and quiet in the ocean, the only thing produced by his frantic calling was a few bubbles

- he felt himself losing consciousness, and yet he couldn't give up struggling for his life

- perhaps it was the oxygen deprivation that made him delirious, perhaps it was just a coping mechanism to swear he saw the surface get closer, as if he had almost reached it

- he kept forcing himself upward, fighting against the current with his arms and legs shackled

- the light his eyes were grasping around him before he could realize what was happening began to get dimmer

- no, no, not yet

- please not yet ,

- his struggle ended quietly, as if sinking into the dark depths of the ocean and singing with the creatures of the ocean

#danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #trigger happy havoc #yasuhiro #yasuhiro hagakure #danganronpa yasuhiro #yasuhiro imagines #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa requests #requests #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #danganronpa 2 goodbye despair #goodbye despair #killing harmony #tw: death #tw: drowning #mod kokichi

[limitededitionsanderssidesblog]

Virgil’s Hidden Past

I just wanna take a sec to thank @winnie-the-patton​ for helping me with this theory.

Since February of 2018 a large group of fanders have head-cannoned Virgil of at one point being a dark side due to the entrance of Deceit and the knowledge that more (sinister) sides exist within Thomas. In Deceit’s introduction video, Can LYING Be Good??, Virgil was the first to realize who ‘Patton’ really was and had shown suspicion throughout the entirety of the video, going through different stages of speculation portrayed through the way he looks at ‘Patton’.

First there’s a peak of interest. Next there’s confusion and wariness. Then, lastly, realization and contempt.

Not only this but it is intriguing to take into account the reaction Roman elicits from Virgil when he mentions the existence of ‘the Dark Sides’:

There is most definitely annoyance is his response, but also a sort of sadness and emptiness to it. Roman said himself that he had made up that name on the spot, meaning that the other sides hidden away from Thomas aren’t (or weren’t) commonly called that. Virgil’s reaction could very well be a hurt reminder of who he once was or what he used to be a part of. Remember, Roman has given him similar nicknames before, such as “Dark and stormy night,” and even “Dark, strange son” by Patton, albeit without malice.

These fact and these looks alone were enough to act as a starting point for theories, but the trail often ended here. Until the recent past two videos.

In EMBARRASSING PHASES: The Nightmare Instead of Christmas! the entire purpose of the video was the fact that the other main sides had come to terms with who Virgil was now, which is a good thing, but consequently disregarded who he used to be and what he had been through while he was still the series antagonist. 

I found this to be really odd as I thought Virgil himself would want to forget about what he had been subjected to as a villain and would want to appear as less harmful to the group. Then the end credit scene came and Deceit made an unexpected appearance, and do you know what the first thing he said was? 

“Very well done Virgil. You’re so evolved.”

This line by itself holds a lot of meaning depending on whether or not it’s interpreted as a lie. Deceit could either be mocking Virgil for having not actually changed at all, or admitting that he has in fact grown. However what he says next leans the meaning more towards the former option.

When Virgil questions Deceit’s reason for being there his response is: “Hm, a bunch of talk about Halloween. A season for dressing up and pretending to be someone or something else.”

Note Virgil’s facial reaction to his saying this:

First he roles his eyes in irritation, but then he gives a sadder look off to the side before turning back to Deceit with possibly the softest look he has yet to give him, as if he’s really thinking about his words and taking them to heart.

Adding this in to his earlier statement Deceit's words could then be translated into meaning that he sees Virgil’s evolution was nothing more than a season of dress up and pretending; and as all seasons do, that it will end and he will eventually return to how he used to be.

What truly stuck out in this out of the blue appearance, and confused a lot of people, were the words, “just be sure to.. keep up that personal growth, Virgil. Who knows? Maybe soon... you could be rid of us all...” 

Again, the meaning behind these lines depends on where the lie is held, or if there is one at all. Looking at it straight forwardly Deceit is telling Virgil that if he continues to distance himself from who he once was he’ll lose them (whether [them] is the dark sides or the main three is hard to tell.) But if you add emphasis on the “rid” and the “us all” then the meaning is rewritten into Virgil’s attempt to change being the trigger that will cause him to recede back to what he was.

This all could be just wild ideas being thrown, but if you reverse the video and put the end credit scene at the beginning then what you have is not Deceit reacting to Virgil’s development, but rather Virgil’s retaliation to Deceit saying that he hasn’t, or rather can’t, change. The video then makes so much more sense. Instead of Virgil randomly trying to scare the others to show that his past hasn’t been erased, we have Virgil proving that his dark past won’t erase his progress and future with the others.

The fact that Deceit would say that Virgil is “evolved” implies that he knew what he used to be like, meaning that the two of them had interacted closely in the past. But is a simple statement or a few looks enough to confirm their history, or at least the depth of it? Well that’s why I’m going to be analyzing not only their interactions with each other, but also their similarities.

First off, the mother load of Virgil v. Deceit content, Selfishness v. Selflessness. In this video I noticed that Virgil was 1000% more hostile towards Deceit than in any of their other shared interactions. Back in LYING and EMBARRASSING PHASES Virgil still held a cold attitude towards Deceit, but there was defiantly a more mellow (but still tense) atmosphere as they talked. In S v. S Virgil was ruder and more abrupt, even interrupting him the second he was revealed and spending most all of his screen time trying to convince the others to get rid of him, such as when he yelled “Why is he still here?” He literally looked as if he was second away from throwing hands. 

Skipping forward a bit, one of the stronger bits of their interactions in this video is when Virgil tried to defend Patton when he tried to bribe Logan with a Butterfinger, saying that the whole set up was already rigged since Deceit, a liar, set it up. Which lead to this interesting part.

“Takes a liar to know a liar.” said Deceit, glancing from Virgil to Thomas. Virgil then looks around with heated suspicion, not yet understanding what he’s implying.

He’s thinking, pondering. He looks around in confusion before it hits him, that Deceit could expose his secrets at any time. He always knew he was a threat, but here it really hits home.

As it goes on and Patton consistently fails to put up a good fight against Deceit, Virgil realizes that he’s losing, Deceit might get what he wants, and his anxiety goes up.

He looks on in horror, shock, and disbelief, and recluses in on himself.

After that Virgil is called to the stand to be the next witness, to which he makes a face at Deceit refusing to go, not wanting to be used as apart of his scheme. Deceit in turn says, “Very well, you don’t usually have anything helpful to add anyway.” 

Sound familiar? It should, as it’s what Logan, Roman, and Thomas had told him on multiple occasions back before his redemption arc. Deceit played perfectly on one of Virgil’s insecurities of being useless to Thomas and manipulated him to play the game he didn’t want to be a part of. Then during his interrogation Virgil says something rather interesting:

“He’s a liar. You literally know him as Deceit.”

This stands out for several reasons. Why didn’t Virgil say “we know him”? Does the fact that he didn’t include himself mean that he know something the others don’t? Also, when he says “as Deceit” is he hinting that another name exists? Later in the video when Patton interrogates Deceit he asks if that is his real name, and Deceit answers “It is.” That could be a lie, or it could be true. 

After Virgil says this, Deceit then stops him by saying, “Glass houses, Virgil. You you’re self said you’re not a beacon of truth.”

The ‘glass houses’ part is what tripped me. Coming from the saying “people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.” this means that you should not criticize other people for bad qualities in their character that you have yourself. Touching back on when Deceit said “It takes a liar to know a liar.” This is followed up on with a layered, almost vague, back and forth conversation between the two of them. 

Deceit: So you’ve never been reluctant to share anything with the group then?

Virgil: Don’t.

Deceit: What? I just meant your name!

Virgil: Don’t!

Deceit: Maybe that’s why it’s so easy for you to recognize me for what I am. Like I said before, it takes a liar to know a liar.

This conversation is further analyzed in my other theory [Virgil Isn’t What He Seems] and for the sake of time, I won’t repeat everything glossed over in there, but I will bring something back up.

As I see it, the purpose of Deceit saying these things and aggravating Virgil is because he knows who Virgil truly is inside and wants him to stop denying who he is, just as he did in the end credit scene of EMBARRASSING PHASES when he spoke of him dressing up and pretending to be something he’s not. Virgil can recognize what Deceit for what he is because they are both pretending.

A hop, skip, and a boat later, after Deceit loses and leaves, Virgil tells Thomas “Do not allow him [Deceit] or any of his... friends to stick around that long ever again. Ever again!” When he speaks of his friends, he hesitates and pauses for a moment, as if he’s trying to find a correct term to describe the other dark sides. 

Out of everyone in the video Virgil was the only one strongly against Deceit’s presence. Sure Patton didn’t want him there because he was trying to get Thomas to act dishonestly, but Virgil didn’t want him there under any circumstances. As Deceit pointed out, Virgil didn’t want to go to the wedding either, but he was willing to put his feelings aside just to get rid of him. The fact that no one else was worried about his being there shows that the dark sides and the light don’t really interact with each other that often in the mind palace, except Virgil; maybe not presently but definitely in the past.

Moving away from specifics of interactions I found that Virgil and Deceit held several similarities to each other, and a few other important notes:

They both want to protect Thomas from what they represent, but cannot help who they are. 

Deceit didn’t want Thomas to fall victim to a society based on a lie, even though he’s literally the embodiment of deceit. While Virgil wants to protect Thomas from feeling anxious and feeling panicked, yet in the video he admitted that he told Thomas that a drink would poison him after sitting alone for 10 seconds.

Deceit makes an interesting foil to Virgil

Back when he was still Anxiety some fanders had issues with him due to their own anxiety, but it was never that extreme. On the other hand, while it’s perfectly alright and understandable, a lot of fanders have issues with Deceit on a much larger scale then there ever was for Virgil. Highlighting what could have been if Virgil wasn’t so lovable and stayed a villain.

both hiss (silly but true)

Both have inhumane characteristics

Deceit’s scales and snake eye and Virgil’s deep, demonic voice that he gets when he’s overly anxious.

Unique powers: Deceit’s ability to silence the other sides. Virgil’s ability to summon darkness around him.

Notice that these two powers of their’s creates 2/3 of the well known proverb of the Three Wise Monkeys, “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil” which, in some scripts, lead to the fourth “do no evil.” Deceit can mute the sides and Virgil can blind them. Which just so happened to be foreshadowed back in MOVING ON Part 2/2

It’s possible that the other dark sides complete this proverb.

Virgil may possibly have naturally heterochromia eyes, just like Deceit, but has hidden them away.

This moment at 38:24 of S v. S has been speculated as Virgil having two differently colored eyes, or it just being an optical illusion due to the light shinning on his hair. But after looking over the video I found that it never happened other than then, which if it had been due to the lighting it would have happened at least twice.

Also, notice that both Deceit and Virgil were the only ones to not go under oath, as if both of them have something to hide

What exactly he may be hiding was brought to my attention by @my-analogical-romance

All the sides have multiple functions except for Virgil Unless he’s hiding them from the others because those functions may appear malicious or harmful to Thomas because of his core purpose as Anxiety. Anxiety in itself manifests and changes as people grow up and come out more as individuals (which as said in MOVING ON Part 1/2 was while Thomas was a teenager.) Anxiety could just be an umbrella for all that he represents, such as Logic and Creativity are just blanket names for what Logan and Roman contribute and manage in Thomas; or because there’s something he wants to keep hidden, something that could link him to Deceit and the Dark Sides.

There is a very high probability that Virgil was once a dark side and rather close to Deceit and the others before he decided to make a change and go to the Light sides. He could have been an accomplice to whatever it is that they did or do. When he was Anxiety he wasn’t truly welcomed by Thomas or the sides. He wasn’t seen as helpful and appeared as just an evil bad thought that had his heart set on ruining Thomas’s life, even though they now know that’s not true. Based on the analysis, in my opinion, Deceit, and possibly the other dark sides, want Virgil back to how he was, or how he seemed, which may tip the scale in the balance of power in Thomas’s head because they believe, as Deceit made claim to, the way the light sides are running things are putting Thomas at risk. 

#does this make any sense #sanders sides #sanders sides theory #ts theory #ts deceit #ts virgil #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #thomas sanders #dark sides #light sides #ts spoilers #thomassanders #my theory #long post

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 53: Epilogue

Sunday June 29th, 2036 - Talk Story Bookstore, Kauai, Hawaii.

Stepping inside Talk Story after two decades had passed was surreal. It remained essentially the same, right down to the red painted walls. I, too, remained essentially the same, if you ignored the wrinkles that had begun to etch themselves into the flesh of my fifty-eight-year-old face…laugh lines, frown lines, and a downright furrow between my eyebrows from a lifetime of what-the-fuckery. The grey hair that had first appeared when I found myself wrangling three children all under the age of five was now expertly masked with copious amounts of dye applied by the talented folks at Zig-Zag Hair & Body. I still did yoga on a regular basis, more now that the kids were…well, grown, I guess. For the most part. Which was really a mind-blower, as is everything else associated with the passage of time in regard the human condition. Aging, kids, is not for the weak. No one tells you that if you sleep too long, your body parts will hurt. Your tits will sag, you’ll pee your pants when you cough, sneeze, or laugh too hard, your hands will ache if you, you know, use them to do stuff…like hold books. Your knees will creak to the point where you aren’t sure if it’s you making sounds or the stairs you’re descending. After you’ve finished a round of particularly vigorous doggy-style, you’ll find yourself uncertain as to which will be more detrimental…remaining in place or attempting to get off the bed. It’s an unimaginable brutality, standing powerless against the effects of time on your physical being while the inner you, the corporeal you, does not follow suit. This Maude was the same Maude who had married the love of her life in this very place, right down to her limitless desire for Lindor truffles and continued disgust at the idea of pineapples on pizza. I can, however, confirm that time does aid in the healing process, which is how we ended up back on Kauai. Each year that passed put more distance between us and the horror we’d endured, and little by little we were able to work through it, first by being able to actually view our wedding photos and videos, then feel small bits of joy while doing so, until finally, sixteen years out, the fear and anxiety was almost fully overridden by that joy. And here we were, on the day of our 20th wedding anniversary, right where it had all begun.

Some unpleasant memories, though faded and dim, still lingered, and as a result neither Tom nor I could bring ourselves to return to the Coconut Beach Marriott. The kids were all aware of the circumstances surrounding our wedding and the days that followed, as we’d vowed to be open and honest about it if the subject ever came up, because we preferred that they learned the truth from us rather than believing what they might have seen on the internet. Two years ago the need for the ‘the talk’ had arisen, and Henry’s reaction had utterly floored me…he’d leapt up off the couch, pulled me into his arms and whispered that he’d hoped his presence had brought me some comfort and that he wished he’d been able to do more. He’d turned nineteen in February, my firstborn, and even though as a parent you’re not supposed to, like, have a favorite…he was, in fact, my favorite, at least in the sense that there was a depth and level of understanding between us that was akin to psychic connection. Perhaps it was due to our shared trauma, or perhaps it was the trauma that caused me to relate to him differently…though in the end, it didn’t matter because I’d never expressed such a sentiment out loud, nor would I. Besides, I’d always known that he already knew anyway.

 Henry…also known as Our Son the Writer, as well as Indy Gallagher, his chosen pen name. He’d taught himself to read at age four, having grown frustrated with Tom and I not being able to drop whatever we were in the middle of, which was usually dealing with one of his siblings, in order to do it on his behalf. From that point forward, books and the stories they contained were his passion…he was never without reading material, absorbing any and all information he encountered and losing himself completely in imagined realities, always longing for more. It was that longing which set him upon the path to becoming an author when he was thirteen, having found himself unwilling and unable to accept that George R. R. Martin’s ‘A Song of Fire and Ice’ series had gone unfinished and deciding he’d tackle the task on his own. A year and many kudos on AO3 later he’d started to build his own fictional universe, and when he self-published the first book of the series, ‘Times Prior’, in August of 2034 it sold a half-a-million copies inside of sixty days without any marketing whatsoever. The main characters were inter-dimensional entities left stranded on Earth, their memories thought to have been wiped clean, and the story followed their journey as they sought to combine the snippets of their past that remained into a single coherent whole that revealed their history while attempting to covertly integrate with humanity. Book two, ‘Presented Puzzles’ had been released in early December of last year, hitting the million mark within two weeks. Though I already had first edition tucked away at home, I hoped to find one here to purchase so I could secure the receipt to the flyleaf with a notation that this copy had been purchased from the location where Indy Gallagher’s own story had begun.

 When I felt Tom’s hand on my back as he stopped to stand on my left, I turned my head his way, peering upward. Though he had his share of wrinkles and his hair, which he’d taken to wearing long enough to brush his chin, had gone completely grey at the temples with salt and pepper throughout the rest, the fucker did NOT look fifty-five. Not to me, anyway…when you’re young and you imagine being fifty-five it seems so damn old, but when it’s staring you in the face, or especially once you’ve passed it by yourself, not so much. There were still bricks in his stomach, his ass remained quarter-bounce ready, and, now that the Hiddlespawn had matured, I took advantage of the Silver Fox Hotness Level One Billion as often as humanly possible. As you do. He grinned at me, then leaned in to nuzzle my cheek with his own.

 “Well, here we are, my love, at long last. How the ever-loving fuck has it been twenty years? Speaking of…perhaps I can interest you in a waltz down memory lane via a certain out-of-the way restroom?”

 My jaw dropped open. “Oh my god, how dare you? Since when am I the kind of woman who has sex in public places?”

 He laughed, tongue poking out between his teeth. “To the best of my recollection, since…forever.”

 I crossed my arms, eyes rolling skyward. “Your recollection has clearly become unreliable, old man.”

 “Mmm hmm. Meet me there in twenty?”

 "Absofuckingloutely." I uncrossed my arms with the intention of pinching his nipple through the fabric of his white V-neck T-shirt, but was interrupted by the arrival of our entourage as they filed through the door and filtered into the space around us.

 Simon settled in to my right, with Luke at his side, as per usual. Simon’s approach to aging was best described as rage, rage against the dying of the light…his hair remained blonde, though these days, much like Tom, he’d been wearing it longer, so much so that he occasionally sported a ponytail. Just a ponytail, never, ever a man bun. Never. I was, and I quote, to ‘dispatch him quickly and without prejudice’ if I ever witnessed him committing such an unforgivable offense. Fillers and chemical peels were a regular occurrence, as were weekly spa visits and a thorough daily skin cleansing and hydrating regimen. He made use of our gym more than Tom or I did and had taken up running more than a decade ago, which he’d deemed necessary in order to have enough physical stamina to open his own restaurant. It was a joint venture with his son Roland, aptly named Ka-Tet…with permission from Uncle Steve, of course, who was still cranking out wordy goodness at eighty-nine. It was located close to home, near Regent’s Park in the space formerly occupied by Odette’s, with a décor that was best described as dystopian spaghetti western. There was no set menu…Simon decided he’d be preparing whatever the fuck he felt like making on any given day, take it or leave it…and they were only open Friday and Saturday nights, which created an air of exclusivity that resulted in the place being booked almost a year in advance. It was perfect work-life balance for him, and whenever anyone mentioned how youthful he appeared he’d nod and reply that all credit belonged to his favorite preservation method…daily alcohol infusions.

 Luke remained at the helm of Prosper, though he’d pulled back significantly since Ka-Tet had opened and essentially served only in an advisory capacity. He’d begun to lose his hair just prior to turning forty, and he’d opted to just shave it all off and embrace baldness as opposed to undergoing transplants or wearing a toupee. It suited him, honestly, and his penchant for quirky glasses and three-day stubble seemed to transform him into the way he was always meant to look. Scholarly, like a college professor. Which he and Simon had role-played, as I’d been forced to discover even though my hands were covering my ears, because Simon wouldn’t take no for an answer and spoke louder instead when I requested that he keep that shit to himself. I watched as he reached for Simon’s hand without even a glance downward, their fingers twining together in a gesture so often repeated it was automatic, built into the fabric of their muscle memory. They turned to smile at each other, then shifted their gazes in unison to focus on their daughters as they passed by to their right.

 Seph’s light brown hair was wound up in a bun that rested at the base of her neck, dressed in a light blue linen tank dress that matched the frames of her glasses. She resembled Luke a great deal, other than her lips and nose, the former much fuller, the latter more rounded at the tip. Her frame was lithe, almost lanky, and she stood an inch or two taller than me sans heels. In the fall she’d be returning to Cambridge for her second year in pursuit of her BA Tripos Degree in Law, after which she intended to obtain a Masters in Law, then finally a Doctorate in Law. Ez, who was essentially a carbon copy of Simon as far as physicality was concerned, was currently a student at the New York School of Design and would be heading back to the city after our vacation. She’d just finished the Fashion Design certificate program and was scheduled to intern at Manhattan Fashion in the Garment District from July 15th through September 1st, at which point she’d return to NYSD to complete their Couture and Menswear programs back to back.  She’d designed the dress Seph was wearing, as well as her own, a white cotton sleeveless wrap-around that hugged her curves and accentuated her impossibly tiny waist. Which I supposed was made possible, along with exceptional genetics, by running six days a week, an activity she’d often participated in with the other masochists in my life…Simon, Tom and Henry. Now that she was based in New York it was solely Henry, their ability to pair up simplified by the fact that both of them resided in the same building, Henry in my old apartment, Ez in hers two floors below. He was standing next to her, dwarfing her five-foot-six frame with his own, his height topping out at six-foot-one, just an inch shy of Tom’s. His hair, worn shoulder-length, was black like my mother’s but curly like mine, eyes identical to Tom’s in shape and color. He had Tom’s nose as well, but my lips and jaw. Like his father, he was lean but muscular, blessed with a gracefulness that I had never possessed. He’d relocated to New York the previous summer to focus on writing, opting to forgo college in the wake of the success of his debut novel. I agreed that college would be a waste, being a firm believer in the fact that one could either write, or couldn’t, but I’d called bullshit on the ‘going away to focus’ aspect, at least privately when Tom and I discussed it. He and Ez had always been very good friends, nearly inseparable, and I felt it in my bones that the real reason he’d decided to leave London was so they could remain in close proximity to one another. Her desire to live in the same building had been presented as great way for both of them to adjust to new surroundings without feeling isolated, which was true, but again, my bones had whispered that there was something bubbling beneath the surface. There had been no confirmation as yet, and I’d stopped mentioning it when Tom, the most hopeless romantic amongst all hopeless romantics, told me I was turning into an even more hopeless romantic than he’d ever been. But it hadn’t stopped me from, you know, looking for signs.

A flash of flaming red glimpsed out of the corner of my eye caused me to turn and look to my left, basking in the breathtaking sight of the whirling dervish that was our daughter, Mona Diane Hiddleston, born at sunset on Wednesday, June 17th, 2018. Her hair was the color of my father’s and Tom’s paternal grandmother’s, wavy like Tom’s, worn long and loose and hanging halfway down her back. Her eyes were brown like mine, and shaped like them as well, but the rest of her face was all Tom. She was five-foot-nine, and often described as a force of nature, at which point I’d smile and say that I had not the slightest idea who she’d gotten that sort of personality from. She’d be relocating to New York in mid-August to begin her dual-enrollment program at Julliard, studying both Instruments and Composition with the goal of a Doctorate in Musical Arts and a career as a conductor in mind. Unlike me, she could read and write music, and play any instrument she was handed with little to no training. Her singing voice was exceptional, her range higher than mine though not quite as broad, but she’d never expressed any interest in developing it other than participating in the school chorus because she needed an elective to flesh out her schedule. Mona had been our ‘difficult’ child…as a baby she’d been fussy, easily irritated with a sleep schedule that was measured in fifteen-minute increments, and as a toddler we’d dealt with outbursts and tantrums over what we considered to be thoroughly minor issues, such as the lights being too bright, her clothes being too tight, or the seams of her socks being ‘wrong’. Throughout it all, the only consistent way to soothe her had been with music, be it listening to it or creating her own using our piano, pots and pans, or anything else that provided rhythmic sounds. Shortly after she turned five, she was diagnosed with sensory processing disorder, which we learned later on went hand-in-hand with her being highly gifted. All three kids were, which wasn’t exactly a surprise given Tom’s and my placement on the IQ scale, but giftedness manifests differently in each individual with a variety of traits, some more challenging to cope with than others. Once we’d established a methodology for managing her SPD, she was like a different human being…strong, steadfast, boisterous, fully confident in her sense of self and intent on extracting each and every thing she expected from this world without apology. And my god, I was so very, very fucking proud to be her mother. And honored. She’d noticed I was staring at her and had just opened her mouth to ask me why when our youngest bounded out from behind her, paused briefly at her left, then pivoted to park himself directly in front of her.  

 Sean James Hiddleston, born Friday, October 23rd, 2020 five minutes before midnight, named as such due to the fact that the blue hue of the eyes that peered up at me when he opened them for the first time was identical to my father’s. He’d been a complete surprise, so much so that I hadn’t even realized I was pregnant until I was three months in…at 42, I’d figured missed periods meant I was embarking on the journey into menopause, and when Tom suggested that perhaps I should take a pregnancy test I’d laughed and laughed. Henry had just turned three and Mona wasn’t quite two, and when I saw the giant plus sign in the test window the laughter faded damn fucking quick when I realized Tom and I would shortly be outnumbered by a trio of ankle biters all under the age of four. After the initial shock dissipated, we were overjoyed, in awe of how the universe continued to be so generous to us, providing yet another miracle. By the time I’d begun to show Henry was cognizant enough to ask questions, and when I informed him he’d soon have a new brother or sister his face had paled and he’d whispered ‘Mamma, will it be like Mona?’, causing Tom to run out of the room, unable to keep his shit together, while I comforted Henry by explaining that every baby is different, the entire time asking myself the same question he had internally. As it happened any worries about his temperament were for naught, because Sean had been a jovial soul right from the get go. He was the child, however, that we had to keep the closest eye on because if left to his own devices even for a second he’d be into something he shouldn’t have been, and when confronted he’d just grin and simply say ‘But I’m learning things.’ Even still, at fifteen-going-on-thirty, he uttered that same phrase at least once a day. Sometimes more. Like when I’d caught him trying to remotely hack into my brand new Alienware laptop two weeks prior…you know, just to see if he could. And, of course, he could. Of all three children he resembled Tom the most, blond wavy hair, same blue eyes, nose and jaw…the only bit of me in his face were his lips. He’d begun his adolescent growth spurt just after Christmas and had shot up from five-nine to six-two in what seemed like no time whatsoever, and if I did a side-by-side of him and Tom from his Eton days it wasn’t easy to tell who was who. Despite their physical similarities, Sean had been cursed with my lack of grace and had already broken almost every toe and sprained various extremities on the regular. He had been blessed, however, with my engineering and mathematical skills, and his abilities made an accelerated program via online courses the best option for him after he’d finished year six. Once he turned sixteen he’d be permitted entry into Cambridge’s School of Technology, where he planned to focus on Computer Science, but the next round of required classes wouldn’t be available until fall of 2037. Starting in September of this year he’d be officially interning at CodeHex, working both with me and other high-level employees across our departments. I say ‘officially’ because he’d been interning in an unofficial capacity for nearly four years, popping in every weekday as soon as he’d finished his online courses back at our flat. When he was a preschooler he’d spent a good bit of time there as well, at my side or on my lap, as I worked to establish the CodeHex company and brand during my ‘free’ hours while Henry and Mona were at school. On the first day of his own year one he’d frowned as Tom and I hugged and kissed him goodbye outside the school’s entrance, stating that while he was very excited to make all sorts of new friends and learn new things, he’d very much miss his old job and old friends. Then he’d spotted a girl with a Captain Marvel backpack and promptly ditched us in order to run over and introduce himself, turning back to wave and smile at us before returning his attention to her and walking into the building while Tom and I stood on the sidewalk crying our eyes out like a couple of schumucks.

 He’d moved closer to me, though still blocking his sister, arms raised and hands extended, palms toward Tom and I as he spoke.

 “This is it, then, is it Mum? Where you and Dad met? All those years ago? Right here? In this bookshop?”

 I nodded. “Yeppir. Also where we got engaged, and where we got married.”

 Tom elbowed me, and Simon twisted his torso sideways to gawk at me, his head cocked to the right.

 “Woman, have you finally lost your mind? You were married at the Marriot. I was there, looking resplendent in my purple tux while you puked in the bushes, remember?”

 Opting to attempt to make a royal fuck-up appear as if it were a conscious choice, I turned my head towards him, index finger of my right hand raised and pointing toward his chest. “Well, you’re not totally wrong…we were married at the Marriot, but that was actually our second ceremony. The first one happened here, right after midnight so it was officially on the twenty-ninth.”

 Simon gasped, placing his right hand over his heart, finders splayed wide. “Are you telling me right now, twenty fucking years later, that the two of you snuck off and got married without your best friends and spent the entire next day pretending your entirely invalid not at all legally binding apparently just for show wedding ceremony was one-hundred-percent genuine?”

 I bit my lip and glanced skyward briefly, then back at Simon. “Yes. Yes I am.”

 He reached out and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Maude Hiddleston, I have never been prouder of you than I am at this moment, you sneaky little MINX. How did you keep it a secret this whole time?”

 I shrugged. “Only four people on the planet knew…me, Tom, the judge and Roger Marshal.” While researching our trip we’d learned that Roger had passed away in 2033, but his daughter Denise had taken over the business. Tom and I planned on seeking her out during our visit, but hadn’t provided any advance notice as we felt that expressing our condolences in person would be most appropriate since Talk Story, and her father, had played such an important role in our lives. I poked Simon’s left pec with my right index finger. “Shouldn’t you be all ragey because you weren’t there or something?”

 He released my shoulders and crossed his arms in front of him, rested his right elbow in his left hand as he tapped his lips with his left index finger, then pointed it at me. “You know what? I fucking should be. But I’m not. Because I’m sure it was all mushy-mushy gushy-gushy and there was probably sniffling and crying and Shakespearean sonnet level verbal exchanges and therefore I’m dropping it in the ‘glad to have missed it’ bucket.” He mock-gagged, and as I swatted at him he pulled back and away, flipping me double birds.

 Mona stepped out from behind Sean, her head tilted to the left. “Well that diminishes both the impact and validity of all those lectures on the critical importance of honesty a bit, doesn’t it?”

 Tom roared with laughter, and I smirked. “I look forward to opening the box that contains my ‘HYPOCRITE’ T-shirt this coming Christmas morning. Men’s 2 XL, please. Black with white lettering. Maybe a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ on the back written in a script font?”

 Henry raised his hand as he joined in. “Oh! Oh! There must be some photographic evidence of the clandestine ceremony hidden away somewhere, I’d imagine? That absolutely needs to be on the T-shirt’s front-side. And Dad’s complicit, so we’ll have to have one made for him as well.”

 Sean grinned. “If such evidence exists, you can count on me to track it down.”

 I glanced over at Tom, who was still chuckling. “This whole kid thing…your idea, wasn’t it? I can’t fathom having done this to myself without being coerced by an insanely hot dude via repeated seductions until I…”

 All three of them screeched in unison. “MUM!”

 Tom pointed at them in turn. “The lesson here, progeny of mine, in case you needed a refresher course…your mother is a master of diversionary tactics and especially enjoys their implementation when the outcome is likely her having…hmm…how shall I phrase this delicately?”

 I snorted. “What your voluble father is attempting to convey without incurring my wrath is…the last word. I like having the last word. He neglected to mention that no topic is off limits in the pursuit of achieving that particular goal. So, shall we move on or would you prefer that I begin my dissertation on our wedding night activities?”

 Again, in unison, with Simon, Luke, Seph and Ez joining in this time around. “MOVE ON.”

 We all split off then, singly for some, in pairs for others, and wandered around the shop. Tom and I paused in the precise spot I’d been standing two decades earlier, narrowing down my reading options for what I’d thought would be hours of alone time on the beach. His arm slipped around my waist, and I circled his in turn, each of us leaning into the other, silent in our contemplation of the Before and the After, which is how we both viewed the stages of our lives prior to and since crossing paths. I could hear Sean exclaiming to Mona that he’d located the music section and that she just had to come see it immediately, Seph and Luke laughing as Simon assured them that yes, he did in fact still enjoy reading the Twilight Series novels and that there was nothing wrong with having a little vampy wolfie sad girl angsty fluff in your life thank you very much, and then, footsteps behind us…a strange echo of the past, and this time I didn’t hesitate to spin around to see who they belonged to. Tom did the same seconds afterward, and before us was a woman wearing a tea-length bright green tank dress, her jet-black hair worn in two braids that hung nearly to her waist. She smiled, and my mouth dropped open when I took note of her name tag. She smiled, realizing I’d recognized her.

 “Aloha, Hiddlestons. Welcome back to Talk Story.”

 I shook my head in disbelief. “Alani. Oh my god. Well, this is a mind fuck of epic proportions. And I’m spewing profanity. Whoops. Sorry.”

 Tom somehow managed to speak like an actual human being. “Alani! What a marvelous thing, seeing you again in this very special place…you’ve been well, I hope?”

 She laughed, then stepped forward to embrace both Tom and I, then pulled back. “I have. I teach at the Waimea High School during the year…9th grade English Literature. Weekends and summers inevitably find me here. This place seems to have a gravitational pull I’m unable…and unwilling…to escape.” Sighing, she glanced around the room, then fixed her gaze back on us. “Have you heard?”

 Nodding, I reached for Tom’s hand and took hold. “About Roger? Yes, but not until we started researching our trip. We wanted to wait to meet Denise to express our condolences. Is she available?”

 Alani shook her head, frowning slightly. “She’s not, I’m afraid. Honestly, we’ve not seen very much of her at all, and she hasn’t been back since she told us she was putting the place up for sale. Of course, I understand that it reminds her of her father and…”

 My grip on Tom’s hand tightened, as did his on mine, so much so that we both let go as if we’d received an electric shock. I took a deep breath, telling myself to be cool, Maude, be fucking cool before giving nonchalance a go.

 “So. Talk Story’s for sale? Huh. Well, we most definitely hadn’t heard that. I don’t recall seeing a sign…”

 Tom cleared his throat. “Neither do I. Does that mean a sale is pending, or is the property still available?”

 She nodded, which was not at all helpful, but the words she spoke afterward were. “It’s still available. The sign’s off to the right of the building, attached to the potted tree so it faces oncoming traffic. The realtor’s been in a few times since it went up in January, but never with any clients. Our revenue isn’t even a quarter of what it was a decade ago, and Denise isn’t very involved so things have gotten worse since Roger passed. At this point, I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be able to remain open, but I’m going to keep hoping that someone sees the value here, the history this place contains…” She cleared her throat, then shook her head back and forth slowly. “Goodness, I’m so terribly sorry. I honestly only meant to say hello…everything else just sort of…happened. I don’t know what came over me.”

 I reached out and patted her upper arm. “Please, no worries. This place seems to foster that sort of thing. Books aplenty with the occasional divine intervention. That’s so going on the marketing materials. You on board with that, Tom?”

 “Oh yes. Yes I am. Alani, do you happen to have the realtor’s number handy?”

 One walk-through, two hours, and countless document signatures later we were officially in contract to purchase Talk Story, with a closing date set for Tuesday, July 1st at 1 PM at the Kauai Coldwell Banker Realty office. Much like I had twenty-one years earlier, we all had to haul ass back to Kapaʻa in order to make our dinner reservation at Kauai Pasta, though this time we were a party of nine instead of three. We’d requested the same booth area, spilling over into the two additional sections in the same row that backed the wall. Tom and I, in an effort to be appropriately extra, ordered the exact same meal we’d ordered the day we met, but sat side-by-side instead of across from each other. Midway through the main course we turned to each other, smiling as our eyes met, and all the noise of friends and family faded into the background as we paused to remember, lost in our thoughts of days gone by, and I felt this monstrous rush of emotions…love, joy, peace, and so many more…and I was so…so…grateful. Granted, I was grateful every day, but this was an all-encompassing gratefulness, and I looked away for a moment to survey our friends, their children, and each of our own children in turn. Life is incredibly strange and unusual, even downright cruel at times, but like the weed-dealing kid in American Beauty said, “sometimes there's so much beauty in the world, I feel like I can't take it, and my heart is just going to cave in”, and that’s where I was at in that moment, in the very same space that had fanned the flames of the spark that had emerged at Talk Story. Which we’d just bought. For nine-hundred and fifty thousand dollars, all contents included. I turned my gaze back to Tom, my head tilting to the right.

 “Did we, like, just actually buy a bookstore? As in, the bookstore we’ve always considered ‘our’ bookstore is now…our bookstore?”

 He nodded, and I felt his hand first on my knee, then creeping up under my shorts. “We did. And while I’m thoroughly delighted with that particular development, I’m also a tad disappointed because we missed out on our restroom rendezvous this go-round. Care to christen this one instead?”

 “Oh, that’s a bold move right there, Thomas. The ladies’ room is literally separated from this table by a single wall. I’ll go first, you get up five minutes later and lurk outside the door…I’ll leave it open a crack so I can keep watch. When the coast is clear I’ll pull you inside.”  I lowered my voice, whispering in his ear. “And then I’ll, you know, pull you inside again. And again.”

 He groaned quietly. “Woman. Cease. And go. Go now.”

 I excused myself, and that five minutes seemed to take a thousand years. There was fire in his eyes when he shut and locked the door behind him, and without a word he turned me around, bent me over the sink, pulled off my shorts and underwear and fucked me so hard I couldn’t help but cry out his name as I came, which he muffled quickly by covering my mouth with his left hand, which made me come again. And again. He soon followed, leaning down and biting my clothed shoulder gently to stifle his own cries. After he pulled out I stood upright, and he leaned in to kiss me, sucking my tongue into his mouth as he zipped himself up, peeked out the door, then exited and darted into the men’s restroom next door. I used the facilities, washed up, and waited for three minutes after I heard him finish up and walk by. A sly grin spread wide across his face awaited me as I returned to the table, and as I sat down Sean asked if we’d be ordering desert. Simon, ever the obnoxious asshat, smirked and commented that he was reasonably sure that some of us had already had their desert, which left Sean puzzled, Mona and Seph disgusted, and Henry and Ez blushing like mad, which really got my Spidey Senses all a-tingle. Luke simply smiled at me, shrugging helplessly, and I sighed, nodding, both of us silently accepting yet again that yes, this was indeed the life we’d chosen.

 As it happened, no desert was ordered…instead, we headed back to the beach house we’d rented on the Coconut Coast, in Anahola Beach Park, which was seven miles or so up from the Coconut Beach Marriott. With only four bedrooms, it meant the kids had to share, so Sean and Henry were in one room and Mona, Seph and Ez in another, but it was literally steps from the beach, totally private, and had a pool and a hot tub. All of that was lovely, but lovelier still was the item tucked away in the fridge…a two-tiered chocolate cake with layers of cheesecake filling, iced with white buttercream and decorated with green and purple fondant orchids. As Tom and I fed each other a slice, Simon smeared icing on the back of my neck. I retaliated by flinging a banana from a bowl on the counter in his direction because bananas are disgusting and there was no way I was wasting cake, and suddenly we were in the middle of an all-out food war that ended with all of us jumping into the pool fully clothed. Fun was had, at least until we clambered out of the water and got a gander at the current state of the formerly pristine kitchen. It was almost midnight by the time we finished cleaning up the mess we’d made, but we’d powered through by taking turns listening to our favorite playlists. Just as we’d begun to discuss our shower schedules, the first few notes of Adventure Of A Lifetime began to play. Without pausing to determine who was responsible for choosing it, Tom and I gravitated toward each other and began to dance, then sang, and as the song progressed we were joined by Simon, Sean, Henry, Ez, Mona, Seph and Luke. By the end we were essentially screaming the lyrics, a troupe of dancing fools bound by love and blood still sharing the same adventure, celebrating where we’d already been, exited for what we’d discover down the road. Everything you want’s a dream away…we are legends, every day.

 Later on, after all the good-nights were said and Tom had passed out after our engaging in some seriously spectacular anniversary shenanigans, I found myself wide awake. I walked to the glass sliders and stared past the pool at the reflection of the moonlight on the waves, the ebb and flow of the ocean that had always, to me, seemed representative of the back and forth, the ups and downs…all the moments of our lives as we pass through them. And then, there they were…Henry and Ez, walking toward the pool, holding hands. They too stood gazing out at the waves, and released each other’s hands to slip their arms around each other’s waists. Without warning, since I wasn’t privy to their conversation, Henry leaned backward, face to the sky, laughing the laugh that I knew sounded so very much like his father’s. I could see them both shaking with mirth, and they quieted slowly, her hand rubbing his back. As I continued to watch, transfixed, she rested her head against him, and he turned to pull her into his arms, then leaned down to kiss her.

 At that point what migh happen next was absofuckinglutely none of my business, so I turned around and headed back toward yet another temporary bed that contained the sleeping form of my personal, perfect, permanence, awash in moonlight. I was now more awake than ever, so I remained in a seated position next to him, my back resting against the headboard. He mumbled in his sleep, rolling over to drape his left arm across my lap. The desire to wake him up and share what I’d seen so I could have a ‘HA, I told you so’ moment was strong, but it was cast aside by a vivid memory from when Henry had been an infant. Tom had just returned from promoting Kong, and I, in my incredibly sleep deprived state, experienced an instance of déjà vu that evolved into a vision of me, at some point in the future, passing the sleeper Henry had been wearing that night to a young man. Back then, the voices I’d heard weren’t familiar, nor recognizable, but now…now they were, because I’d been listening to them all day long. I recalled that when I was still carrying him inside me, each time I’d held Ez, Henry had thrashed about wildly, something that had never occurred in such a fashion with anyone else. The entanglement particle theory came to mind, one that Tom had referenced in Only Lovers Left Alive, which Einstein had dubbed ‘spooky action at a distance’. If entwined particles become separated, even if they wind up at opposite ends of the universe, if one is altered or affected, the other will be identically altered or affected.

 I started down at the ring on Tom’s left hand, and the two on my own, one which had been inscribed with two lines of text at the bequest of the man who’d become my husband twenty years ago. On the first was ‘Talk Story - 6/29/15 - Our Story’, and on the second, ‘My Light in the Mist’. I was, briefly, unable to breathe, feeling that I suddenly, and for certain, temporarily, understood life, the universe and everything.

 Even in the darkest hour of our journey through this life, there’s light. You won’t see it in that moment, you might not see it for a long time afterward…but it’s there, hidden by darkness, and as the darkness begins to fade there will be tiny specks of it in the distance. Chase after them, because those specks – they’re hope. The fading darkness transitions to a thick fog, then a translucent mist…you may find yourself lingering there, in the in-between, reasonably content. Living, but with a sense of incompleteness that you can’t seem to define, are able to suppress, but can’t quite shake. That’s the light, reaching out for you. And one day, it will finally make contact. And if you’ll allow it, the light will take you by the hand and lead you out into the open where the sun can fully shine upon you again…or perhaps for the very first time. And I’m here to say…allow it. Grab that hand. Grab it with everything you have, and never let it go. No matter what, never, ever let it go.

- Maeve Curry, June 2015- July 2019

#chapter 53 #epilogue

[manifestation86-blog]

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[selfless1978]

I wish I had the knowledge to make the kind of music video that I envision with this idea. But, I don’t have the smarts or the equipment to do something that advanced. So, I’ll stick to words.

Just, imagine this as a video where the beat is her steps walking. She never changes pace, but the AU around her changes, as does her walking partner. Never done something quite like this before, and I hope it turns out right. Love you guys, and the muns behind you.

“Leo, it’s a long walk. And I’m tired. Walk me home? You never know, the boogeyman might get me.”

Vicky is already heading towards the door, a smile on her face and humming a steady tune.

There's something in the way you roll your eyes

Takes me back to a better time

@fearlessheartofasamurai

“You can put me down Leo.” She looked at him in mild amusement. “These rooftops around here are mostly flat.”

“And you are notoriously flighty.” His face didn’t change expression, but his eyes lowered to look at her. In their blue depths was a hint of amusement. “I can’t accuse you of cheating if you become a permanent fixture on the pavement below.”

“Gee, thanks....”

“You are quite welcome, Vicky.”

She crossed her arms and huffed at him, but there really wasn’t much she could do about it.

Not that she was going to complain anyway.

When I saw everything is good But now you're the only thing that's good

@4bandedbrothers​

“Stop that!” Vicky’s face was blushing. A deep shade of red rarely seen on this normally hardened face.

“Stop what?” Again, his expression never changed, but it was very clear he was enjoying this. Then his eyes roamed from her face and down her body suggestively. Eyebrow raising as his slow, and intent gaze made her turn more red.

“You know!” She flared lightly. “That!”

He just laughed softly as hooked his arm into hers as they walked on. “I don’t think I will. It amuses me.”

Vicky glared at him, but it didn’t seem like he was really bothered by that.

@ravenousmonstrosity

Tryna stand up on my own two feet

This conversation ain't comin' easily

Blue wings twitched nervously. Vicky winced a bit at the pain from her still healing break in one of them.

His caught the motion and he side eyed her. Concern on his gruff, tired face. Tired from everything he went through in his life. It had made him a bit wary to let her in, but she finally managed to get him at least to the point where he would take her to the near by spring. She needed the water, for deeper reasons than to be clean.

Water was now a part of her.

He had picked up on it, and the desperate need shown on her face when she had asked where it was.

“I will guide you. These woods can be treacherous to those unfamiliar with them.” Had been the firm statement at her request.

Vicky was looking everywhere for danger, but was greatly comforted by his presence.

And darling, I know it's getting late So what do you say we leave this place?

@allthefictionalboyfriends

Vicky nodded. It was way past time to go.

She shuddered at the memories these dark halls brought forth. Behind her, the brothers were still laughing and jeering at Bishop, and his latest bedpan mishap. One that had left his face severely beaten and bruised.

But, she was in no mood for humor after all of this. She just wanted to go home. Home to him.

His arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. His face stern for anyone who would dare to try and hinder her steps, but gentle when they looked down at her.

It would be ok. She was safe, he was safe, and their unborn child was safe. Vicky leaned against him, completely losing herself in his presence as they walked on.

Walk me home in the dead of night

I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm

@nycbarabrothers

He let her have her space, even as she trudged along close to him. These tunnels were familiar to her, but she was struggeling with so many things.

He saw that she was troubled, and not as attentive as she should be.

It just would not do to have her fall headfirst into the first holding tank she had to circumvent because her mind was lost in the thundercloud of her thoughts.

So he walked with her. His hands repeatedly flashing out to keep her from running into walls or slipping in the muck.

Vicky would talk to him when she was ready, he knew that, but for now he just did what he did best. Watched over her as they walked.

but you would think she would be at least a little bit more attentive on to where she was going....

This was going to be a long walk.....

So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

@the--atrocity

“Will you slow down?” Vicky grumbled at him.

Such a stuck up ass! She almost wanted to scream.

He ankle was still bothering her, and this dipshit was just going to let her flounder in his garden. Just because she told him he needed to smile more. And that she didn’t like the competition he was giving her in the self pity, hung up on the past, let me be overly emo department.

At least he didn’t turn her over to the populace she supposed. That was a good thing. At least there was some kind of compassion in the prince.

But still. 

“Slow down! I’m going to get lost out here!”

Maybe she had been better off in the forest where she could fall out of trees in peace.

There's something in the way I wanna cry That makes me think we'll make it out alive So come on and show me how we're good I think that we could do some good, mhm

Vicky made it to the door, pausing to look behind her. And smiled. She made it. Safe, unharmed, and her spirits lifted by her company. The stars glittered clearly in the cloudless night, but she could easily see the shades hovering around her.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

They stood firm between her and the cares of the world beyond. Their faces, each so similar but yet so different. And each had touched her heart. And, in a small way, helped to keep someone else alive.

Walk me home in the dead of night 'Cause I can't be alone with all that's on my mind Say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on

There was a shot of blue fire overhead. A large bright blue ball of flame lit up the night as large wings flapped almost silently. Then the dragon landed. His piercing blue eyes never changing as he shimmered and the form went from a dragon, to her own well loved Leonardo.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong There is so much wrong There is so much wrong going on outside

He stood next to her, his arm wrapping firmly around her. Not in a possessive manner, but one to show he was glad she was home.

“You have my thanks.” He calmly told the gathered group. “For tending to her when I could not. All of you helped keep her hopes alive. And that in turn kept her own world holding on. There is nothing I can do to repay you for that simple act of kindness.”

He nodded his head towards them all in a respectful, and grateful manner, and gently led her inside.

[laystudio]

hi! im that anon that asked for a tutorial and you said something specific and i really liked your harvey dent edit? the one that said, god is dead. and it was all red and stuff and super cool looking? no pressure! i just think your stuff is really cool and was wondering what the process behind some of it was!

ofc! it’s no problem at all :)

so i’ll just give a brief rundown and a v rough tutorial on how i made those particular graphics. thank u so much for the support, i’m especially proud of them too and it’s nice to hear u like them as well!

what you’ll need:

photoshop cc 2015.5 but any ps would do really

basic knowledge of photoshop

patience

fonts: dk shaken not stirred, liquido, couture, helvetica, helvetica neue, votu

so the first graphic is a really stupid move and i just realized it like hours after i posted it: it’s one of two graphics that feature a fanart instead of a faceclaim. looking at it as a whole, cohesive set it looks really stupid and surreal? bc it doesn’t match and just throws u off? so my advice is don’t do that. if ur gonna edit from an actual comic then the rest should be like that too (2D) but if ur gonna edit with real life elements i suggest to just stick to that path (3D) so that everything looks coordinated and neat :)

the second one actually took me a while to get right but basically the red circle is in [linear light] and the black circle is in [hard light] mode while the top most white is in [normal]. the paper texture is above all three layers and is on [multiply] mode so it only looks visible on the white circle. the “angels” text is just some basic layer mask so it looks like it’s inside the white circle. as for the style of the graphic itself it’s just based on the previous harvey graphic i did here, the last one on the left. the thing with that is i look for inspiration from other graphics i find and there’s a lot on behance, flickr and even pinterest. just search for ‘graphic designs’ and you’ll find a lot of good ones. u don’t have to copy them exactly but u can adopt and transform it into something urs! but if imitating some designs and tricks is what helps, then it’s fine too. nobody is born an innate artist/designer/whatever so just explore and experiment with what u know and what u want to see. eventually, u’ll be able to develop ur own style.

the third one is basically the same as the second and fairly straightforward. the big, red 2 is set to [darken] mode. i guess with this graphic it’s mostly abt negative space??? and also maybe laziness but negative space is good so that overall, ur graphic set wouldn’t look too cluttered. it helps the eyes breathe i think.  also the main focus is the faceclaim, and since the graphics above and below it is already optically centered, it’s at the rightmost side for asymmetry. just a thought.

ok i’ll be real this is one of my faves bc it just looks so harvey i couldn’t believe my eyes when i saw that hand. i just cut it and applied a gradient map of white and light red i believe so it looks like it’s sketched out or smthng. it looks just like harvey’s burned hand but bc i’m an idiot i forgot to flip the canvas so that it would look like his left instead of his right hand. to this day i regret this mistake. if u look close enough the coin has harvey’s face on it too. damn i love him. but moving on, the lines are made with the pen tool. the pen tool can be a hit or miss thing to use and i just recently learned how to use it properly but it’s v convenient once u got around it! it’s like a sophisticated brush tool if u want to incorporate more lines in ur stuff. u can also use it to cut stuff out (like with the quick selection and magic wand tool) but i don’t do that method often so probs don’t listen to me. i only have a v basic knowledge on it but there’s a yt video tutorial on how to properly use the pen tool if ur interested.

this fifth one is very….. meh. theoretically, it could’ve been better but since i’m the Worst in practice it ended up like that. the design is p much those adidas ads with the many dots? sorry for the plagiarism, adidas, but i don’t make money off of this. so when in doubt just slap some geometry on ur edit and ur good to go. i go for circles bc they’re more aesthetically flexible, if that makes sense? i find rectangles cool but they tend to look out of place in something so vertical; it leaves little space for words and other elements. but polygons look better on horizontal canvases so u can try that too!

the last and definitely least is the most ‘meh’ out of the bunch bc i literally stopped caring abt 2/3 into this thing. the thought that comes to mind is: time magazine cover nov2017 so what does that say abt it really. the text is naturally like that thanks to the font: liquido with a wave-like option if ur into that kind of stuff. some layer masks too to get the effect of the text being inside the harvey art. it looks so dumb now wtf i’m an idiot. but hey, 2 harveys. i’m a visual genius in that respect. again, some gradient maps and a red rectangle border. tip: u should most definitely add a contrasting color or accent in ur graphics, which i once again failed to do here. in this case it’s black since the color palette is red, white and black. it adds a depth to ur work. if ur skilled enough, u can use a wider range of color palettes instead of the usual black, white, [random color]. i, myself, haven’t mastered that yet so that’s what i usually use but one extremely prolific graphic maker who has a good eye for these colors is user mattelektras. u can check out her stuff and see how she uses complementary colors in her edits.

some other things to note:

if u need a paragraph-like text for filler, u can go to type > paste lorem ipsum then adjust the font size to ur liking (somewhere around 0.8pt for maximum unreadability)

it’s good to pay attention to colors and spaces in ur works! the color wheel is ur friend in this trying time

smart sharpen always and forever (at abt 65-130 depending on ur image size)

this got lengthy but i hope i was able to help! i know it’s not that detailed but if u have anymore questions don’t hesitate to ask :) i’m not bothered at all so don’t worry abt it. happy designing!

#answered #achilleanachilles

[hearsaykrp]

                 Presenting — yoon haejoon as the tern.

— info.

name / yoon haejoon birthday / 930501 pronouns / he/him occupation / freelance video editor

— traits.

( critical, sly, independent, dynamic )

critical – haejoon tends to view things in a negative light, easily finding fault in everything and everyone, himself included (at least internally). and he’s not afraid to share his findings in blunt words, whether his opinion was asked for or not, which can render him off-putting.

sly – though he can be blunt when he wants to, he can just as easily be dishonest and cunning if it’s in his best interest, whether that means cheating systems or tricking people into trusting him or otherwise. in the end, his goal is always selfish as he believes he’s all he’s got.

independent – to a fault, haejoon often relies only on himself. on his thoughts, on his knowledge, on his instincts, on his own beliefs and opinions, and so forth. which, while sometimes preferred and commendable, can also leave him with a blind spot or have him stuck in his own echo chamber.

dynamic – haejoon’s dynamic in that he is energized in a way that’s non-stop and obnoxious. he is always driving towards his goal, and will stop at nothing to get there by any means necessary.

— about.

i.

haejoon’s birth, much like the rest of his life, was inconsequential.

this is what his father’s always led him to believe, anyway, and so it came with no surprise that he’s spent his life trying to disprove it.

an accidental second born to a family already struggling to feed three wasn’t exactly a welcome one, but haejoon has always made his presence hard to ignore. from loud cries to incessant whines of, “mom, look,” to constant calls from his teachers complaining of disruptive behavior and everything in between. he’s never hidden his desperate need for attention, and his mom was happy to give it to him for the first five years of his life. with an old clunky video camera in hand always documenting his growth and a warm smile on her face, haejoon grew attached. perhaps not any more so than most children would, but importantly so. because when his overworked father never viewed him as anything more than an inconvenience, and his older brother was a constant comparison propped up on a pedestal, where else would he get the affection he so needed in that household?

nowhere, he soon found out.

even now he remembers that night so clearly. the loud patter of rain against the window, the knock on the door of their tiny one-bedroom apartment, the way his legs turned to jelly as the police officer told his father the news. a suspected drunk driver hit-and-run accident, and they were trying their best to catch the culprit.

they never did.

and just like that, a five year old haejoon learned of loss and lived with unresolved closure.

ii.

they say there are five stages of grief. but for most of haejoon’s life, there were only two.

denial, which consisted of him begging the police officer to tell him he was joking and to bring his mom back. then anger, which motivated most of his childhood and teenage years.

he started talking back when his dad would yell, instead of begrudgingly accepting and apologizing for things he shouldn’t have had to like his mom always told him. he started picking fights with his brother out of frustration and jealousy and resentment. and soon enough, as he entered high school, phone calls from teachers turned from harmless disruptive behavior calls to something more bloody. bloody knuckles, bloody noses, bruised eyes, cut lips. a scrawny boy with a big mouth and an equally big fake ego unknowingly built out of self-preservation, taking on things twice his size.

his only solace in such a stifling environment was that clunky old video camera, the same one his mom loved dearly and used to capture haejoon through her eyes.

he continued what she started soon after she was gone, recording himself through the years as she might have, even occasionally talking to her through the camera, giving updates on his life. he slowly grew out of it by the time he got to high school, but by then his love for the art of video and film blossomed. he retired his mom’s well-worn camcorder to the safe depths of his drawers, and scraped together money from odd jobs and slipped from his dad’s wallet to buy a more modern camera. it was with that, his first prized possession, that he shot and edited a multitude of stupid skits he thought were masterpieces at the time. all uploaded to video sharing sites and only ever garnering a few hundred hits.

but that didn’t matter then, because in the beginning haejoon just enjoyed the process. enjoyed the fact that it gave him reason to leave the apartment and sneak back in at one in the morning. enjoyed the zone it put him in when he could sit for hours just editing on his second most prized possession, a refurbished laptop, and tune everything else out.

so, when a routine argument with his father came to a boil and ended with his laptop broken into pieces strewn all over the street below their apartment window, it was no surprise that he moved out the moment he could.

iii.

it wasn’t easy, of course. haejoon was a recent high school grad with little money to his name and grades too poor to get into any good universities, after all. but still, he tried. sending applications to many small colleges in cities far from daegu, and impulsively taking the very first to accept him in a town as inconsequential as his birth.

with needing two part-time jobs just to pay for rent and tuition, and his general lack of discipline in school, he took an extra year longer than most to finish. but even after he did, not much changed. the name of his school held zero weight in the industry and his diploma in film was useless for most non-entertainment entry jobs. in the end, he had no choice but to carry along with his part-time jobs busing and delivering food to feed himself.

no setback stopped him, though. the always stubborn, yoon haejoon. he drafted screenplay after screenplay, and shot non-stop to bring them to life, sending them off to film festivals both big and small and getting uniformly rejected year after year. all of which he blamed more on his lack of prestigious background than his lack of talent. his body of work gradually became a graveyard of failed short films and a few commercials shot for small local businesses that pitied him after weeks of constant convincing.

it was only in the past two years that he found small success, if one could call it that. after all, being a freelance video editor for small youtubers and streamers wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs, but it allowed him to quit his soul-sucking customer service jobs. and, more importantly, bought him more time and energy to focus on making his own films once again.

iv.

back at the drawing board and with the rise in the popularity of documentaries, haejoon found himself back at his roots.

of course, six year old haejoon wasn’t shooting any ground-breaking documentaries when filming himself learning how to play the piano like his mom always wanted him to – but, the idea was the same. documenting reality.

or, well, framing reality in a certain way.

it was with this in mind he found ilmyo. after weeks of trawling through news article after news article in all the small towns he could think of, it was the deaths of kim donghyun and choi goeun that reeled him into the rabbit hole that was ilmyo’s mysterious history.

there was little information to be found online and no one seemed to be talking about it outside of town, but that had been a selling point too. no one knew of ilmyo and he would be the first on the scene. the first to shed light on a dark past and help unravel a questionable mystery – and, really, wasn’t that what audiences wanted these days? intrigue and justice?

that had been enough for haejoon, who quickly packed his things and took the first bus to town the following day.

v.

now, haejoon lives in a dinky old motel situated a few blocks away from the supposedly scenic stretch of birch trees. it’s a boring town, a far cry from downtown daegu, but then so was the previous town he called home for several years. and so he’s settled in easily – as easily as a nosy, obnoxious outsider can in these suspicious times.

haejoon hasn’t bothered making his presence a secret. by now, he’s sure almost everyone knows that the outsider is making a documentary on the tragic missing persons cases, whether they like it or not. he’s made sure of it, announcing himself and his purpose to anyone who will listen, and would they care to be interviewed? it’ll be shown in the busan international film festival next year, he’s falsely promised time and again.

he knows none of them believe him, knows that most of them despise him if the glares and groans he gets when he enters a room are anything to go by. but, unsurprisingly, that hasn’t weathered him down any more than the cryptic death threats thrown his way. haejoon’s more than used to being disliked, and it was never part of his plan to stay in ilmyo for long, so who cares if he makes any friends when he’ll burn his bridges soon enough?

hawk and heron are all he cares about being friends with anyway, and it’s only with them he bothers to tone himself down. first by offering a positive light to hawk in his documentary in exchange for insider information. then by attempting to bond with heron, offering to watch each other’s backs in a kind of strange truce to investigate together and share information (albeit selectively from haejoon’s side).

but trust has been slow to build and haejoon’s been growing impatient.

with most reluctant to share anything with him, he’s resorted to taking matters into his own hands. after his own investigation in the matters and his belief in occam’s razor, he’s concluded that magpie and starling are the likely suspects. there’s no smoke without a fire, after all, and magpie and starling have too much smoke surrounding them. as far as he’s concerned, they’re guilty and the police are just too close to everyone in this small town to do anything about it when the proof is all circumstantial.

so, it wouldn’t hurt if he falsified concrete evidence, would it?

if the culprits never paid, what’s the point in all of it?

he would just be giving the closure he never received to the families of the lost ones.

vi.

but there is one thing. if this is going to be his breakout piece, he wants it done without getting his hands too dirty.

for now, haejoon’s biding his time, false evidence lying in wait in a locked safe. only time will tell if he’ll have to use it.

#hrs tern #hrs min yoongi #hrs accepted

[karunator]

Infinity Review

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Modder to Developer - muppetpuppet

Today we have a special treat. We caught up with Tomas Sala, a.k.a. the esteemed Skyrim modder muppetpuppet, about his upcoming game release and his history in modding. For those unfamiliar with his work, muppetpuppet created one of the first "new world" mods for Skyrim back in 2012 - Moonpath to Elsweyr. [b][b]Thank you for joining us for this interview Tomas (aka [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/3232189]muppetpuppet[/url]). [/b]So, going back to the very start, when and how did you first get into gaming?[/b] I actually started straight out of art school in 2001, we started a studio in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. But at that time there was no self-publishing, I think Steam wasn't live yet and iPhones would be years away. So we rolled into educational and advertising work for hire, making games for anyone and everyone, it took many years to progress into entertainment games properly eventually creating PSVR exclusives for Playstation as games for the Wii, Switch and mobile. [b]How long have you been working in the gaming industry and what roles have you taken up during that time?[/b]  I've been working there since 2001 and have always been a multirole person. I'm a 3D artist by trade, but I'm more than handy with a scripting language and nowadays C#. I've also been creative director and game designer over the years. I think that diversity is now coming into its own with The Falconeer. [b] Tomas is the sole developer of the upcoming game "[url=https://store.steampowered.com/app/1135260/The_Falconeer/]The Falconeer[/url]". From the screenshots and gameplay videos, it looks fantastic. For our readers who've not heard of the game, how would you describe it?[/b] Well, it's a throwback to the games I loved as a kid, [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freelancer_(video_game)]Freelancer[/url], [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars:_TIE_Fighter]Tie Fighter[/url] even [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crimson_Skies_(video_game)]Crimson Skies[/url], and - of course - a good dose of open-world love inherited from Skyrim thrown in. So basically, you are a pilot or rider of a giant Falcon and you serve as a mounted warrior for your faction, doing air -combat missions as well as open-world exploration. Someone online described it as "what would happen if Gandalf had ridden into Mordor on a giant eagle..... but with lasers", which is a fair description. The actual combat gameplay is very WWI-WWII style close up dogfighting but with giant falcons, dragons and other fantastical creatures. [center][youtube]3viT_KoZ538[/youtube][/center] [b]It's not just the game itself you created. I've been reading the [url=https://www.thefalconeer.com/world/]extensive lore and set-dressing[/url] you've meticulously written to create a cohesive world for your story to unfold in. What can you tell us about the setting of The Falconeer?[/b] Well, I love lore-heavy worlds, for me, it makes exploring an open world so much better if the setting makes sense and has depth. The world of the Falconeer is called the Ursee and it's a bleak yet beautiful icy ocean world. Mankind has always had a hard time surviving on it, and societies have been founded and collapsing for millennia, leaving the seafloor scattered with wrecks and ancient relics. One major faction steering these societies are the Mancer Order, an organisation that has access to a wide array of technologies hidden away in their massive vaults. They manipulate and organise the other factions by doling out these technologies through permits and grants. If a king has the Mancer's favour he'll get steam engines, if he loses it, he might find his competitor suddenly has machine guns. The Mancer order doesn't involve themselves with the daily politics of factions such as the empire in which most of the game takes place, they have a hidden agenda with a long term goal. Part of the different campaigns you'll participate in, inside this world, is to figure the true goal and history of the Mancer Order, and with it the Ursee. [b]In a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0VJAaZpkfM]video by Digital Foundry[/url] covering The Falconeer, they mentioned that the entire game is created without using any conventional textures, is that true? If so, what made you choose this approach to game design?[/b]  Indeed, it's better described as no pre-made textures. So I don't work with a painting or material editor or even something like photoshop to create the material expression of my world. Rather I use procedural tricks and fairly abstracted shaders to do the heavy lifting. So, for instance, the snow on objects is a [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perlin_noise]Perlin noise[/url] I generate in the game, and I then also use that for lava and water foam. The same goes for the colouring of the world, It's all done with gradients based on lighting and atmospheric parameters and values. It basically means I can create models and paint them fairly simple and have the game itself add a lot of detail and environmental colouring. I've had comments saying this must be because I'm lazy, and I certainly like an efficient art pipeline. But it isn't 100% the case - the effort I put in to create certain effects would be many times less if I'd simply use a texture. Take the clouds, creating those without textures was a crazy endeavour iterated over months. The same goes for the ocean another very advanced effect, stuff that certainly wouldn't have been possible a generation or so ago. The reason I do it is mostly twofold. One, it forces me to adhere to a very strict esthetic, and it keeps everything I make very, very compatible and unified. Giving the game a very clean and stark look while having radically different objects, buildings, vehicles and so forth in it. I both love how that looks and how "together" it makes everything feel. Secondly, it forces me to find novel and original solutions to visual designs, I cannot use "out of the box" clouds, water or lighting, so I have to take a different path to get there. Both the journey of that as well as the end result are usually novel and interesting, which is what appeals to me. [b]The Falconeer uses Unity at its core. What did you consider when choosing the engine for your game?[/b] I've used Unity through my work, so I was familiar with it, which is a huge boon because knowing what you are capable off is quite a good thing to have, especially alone. You don't always want to dive off the deep end. That said I'm quite attracted by Unreal's blueprints and after the Falconeer is done, I aim to dive into that for a bit as well. [center][img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1581950089-410859194.jpeg[/img] [img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1581950095-1401396009.jpeg[/img][/center] [b]Some Unity games allow mods (or can be modded with tools like Harmony), will The Falconeer have any scope for user-created content? [/b] It's something under consideration, but modding and even game development are very distinct from enabling the creation of mods for your game. So basically because I'm working by myself it's quite a daunting task, but it is very much on my mind. It's also one of the few aspects I'd consider having external help with, as it's just such a specialisation to create adequate tooling and an open framework from the ground up for your game. [b]In terms of modding, your biggest achievement has to be [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/9782]Moonpath to Elsweyr[/url]. When you released it in 2012, it was one of the only true "new world" mods. That must have been quite an undertaking, considering the Creation Kit had only been out for just over a week at the time. What can you remember about the process of putting it all together?[/b] Well, I remember getting into a bit of a creative frenzy after diving into a few tutorials. At my work, we had just wrapped up a kid-friendly RPG for a local dutch theme park ("[url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raveleijn]Raveleijn[/url]"), so there was lots of curiosity on how the big games did certain things. I think there was already a group of people trying to use the existing NIF tools and update them for Skyrim. Being a 3D artist grasping some of the odd quirks and oddities of that format and the tools seemed less of an issue. And within a very short while I had some [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/10312]trees and foliage[/url] imported. I think those were the palm trees and other greeneries uncommon to Skyrim. [center][img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1581947917-582928013.jpeg[/img] [img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1581947923-1718214276.jpeg[/img][/center] From there I just went crazy, first with adjusting some of the material properties of default Skyrim objects, such as turning the snow into green moss (just fiddling got pretty good results fast). I think I then set about exploring the library of atmospheric fog and light FX and tweaking those to create a tropical vibe. So initially I released a player home really quick, it's actually a really simple and manageable mod type to start with. What then happened is that the community just jumped on board and started offering voice acting, pointing out bugs and even assisting with my horrible spelling. That in itself was a ridiculous driver to continue, the player base (and other modders) was always waiting at the Moonpath Nexus page, ready with more feedback, more requests and more general helpfulness. I think up to that point I had never had such a direct audience engagement, and it was a complete trip that burned away every free hour I had for about six months until most of what is now the Moonpath was there. [b]I noticed that both The Falconeer and Moonpath to Elsweyr feature airships, would you say that's something a staple in your creative works? [/b] I think the need to fly away and escape has a very literal form in much of the art and games I create, so I'd say that's something that's just a part of me. I'm also a huge fan of tall ships and historic sailing ships in general, so visually I'm always drawn to ships and airships. [b]For Skyrim Special Edition, you entrusted the development of Moonpath to Elsweyr to [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/1240951]Illiani[/url] was this a difficult decision for you?[/b] No not at all, there was a point where I realized I needed to focus on other things and long before Special Edition, I opened up the Moonpath and all its assets to any modder that wanted to use them. The [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/24587]Dev Aveza[/url] already showed what sharing things could lead to (I think it might actually still use my base airship model underneath all their epic expanding they did to it). So no the community was part of creating the Moonpath and happy to see other modders take it onwards to new places. And improving it in many places I might add. [b]How do you feel modding Skyrim helped (or hindered!) your career as a game developer?[/b] It has been an incredible boon because the direct contact with the community is a unique perspective which is hard to get when doing a more classical game dev project. I've also met plenty of people in the industry that played the Moonpath and it's opened many cool conversations over the years. I even met some people from Bethesda who knew it (I guess they kept close tabs on the modding scene in the early days). [b]If you were to work on an Elder Scrolls title with everything you know now, is there anything you'd do differently?[/b]  I have nothing but admiration for how Skyrim was made. I've made my own educated guesses on why certain choices were made and understand the lineage of the creation kit, and I think it delivered an unparalleled game world and modding environment. I wouldn't presume to be able to improve on that. I do really like the more "out there" aspects of the TES lore and would love to see that remain centre stage in a new iteration. [center][img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1581951105-1941102210.jpeg[/img][/center] [b]Important question - when do you expect we can get our hands on The Falconeer?[/b]  Hahaha. Definitely later this year, working as hard as I can. ;) It'll be playable at [url=https://east.paxsite.com/]PAX East[/url] (Feb 27 - Mar 1) for those wanting a gameplay taste. [b]Do you have any final words of wisdom for aspiring game devs in the Nexus Mods community? [/b] I think for those who want to use modding as a stepping stone it's good to keep realizing how much a part of the wider game industry modding has become. It's part of game development. And there might be moments where people showing off their mods can get apologetic because it's "just" a mod and they fear people might still see it as something derivative or adapted from something original. But I've never met anyone in the games industry who isn't a huge fan of mods. Mods are such creative original works of art by themselves. So if you make something don't be afraid to show it to any game developer or artist you might meet, good chance they love mods, are gamers themselves or have even modded in the past. [b]Thank you for joining us Tomas, we wish you the best of luck with the release![/b] [line] A big thank you to Tomas for taking the time to speak to us! If there's an author or mod project you'd like to know more about, send your suggestions to [b][url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/64597]BigBizkit[/url][/b] or [b][url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/31179975]Pickysaurus[/url][/b].  [center][url=https://store.steampowered.com/app/1135260/The_Falconeer/] Add The Falconeer to your Steam wishlist to get notified when it releases. [img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1581950708-1759106569.png[/img][/url][/center] Published first at Modder to Developer - muppetpuppet

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