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sinnabum45 · 4 months ago

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Regrets and Apology

Link to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸

[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). End plain text.]

[Image description: Black and white digital comic of Ace Attorney characters Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth.

Page one: Phoenix is facing away from the viewer with a speech bubble: “I was angry that [red text] you didn’t even bother telling me [end red text], or anyone, that you were suffering so much…” A memory of a tired Miles looking to the side saying, “I’m tired, Wright. I feel as if… something inside of me has died.” Phoenix’s hand is holding Miles’ crumpled resignation letter. Phoenix: “But the truth was that [red text] you did. [end red text] You did tell me and [red text] I left you to deal with it alone. I even hurt you. [end red text] I just… Couldn’t take the fact that [red text] I could’ve helped you, but I didn’t. [end red text] Finding a reason to blame you was a lot easier than facing the fact that [red text] I couldn’t save you [end red text] from your past.” Phoenix is on the far left of the page with an angry expression. Pearl is holding onto his arm and looking back at Miles. She has a worried expression. Miles is on the far right of the page. He is holding his right arm with his left hand and looking down with a hurt expression. Page one end.

Page two: Present Phoenix is smiling sadly, facing away from the viewer at Miles. Phoenix: “haha Pretty pathetic, huh?” Miles reacts with an uncomfortable shift while looking at Phoenix. They look away from each other in silence. Miles, facing away from viewer: “You’re not pathetic, Wright.” Phoenix twitches with a guilty expression. A memory of Miles sitting at his desk with crumpled paper all over the desk. He is crying with a blank expression while holding a pen over a sheet of paper. Miles: “I was too deep in my own pain that [red text] I justified disregarding everyone and everything else… I was a coward and ran away without saying a word. [end red text] How can one not feel grief from such selfishness?” Page two end.

Page three: Miles, facing away from the viewer, looks down. Miles “… Wright, I’m sorry for running away. I’m sorry for abandoning everything I used to be… For abandoning you.” Phoenix is surprised. Phoenix then puts his hand on Miles’ shoulder and Miles looks up at him. Phoenix: “I’m sorry for abandoning you, too, Edgeworth… And I’m sorry for saying those horrible things to you.” Page three end.

Page four: Phoenix starts to lean closer to Miles with tears in his eyes. Miles’ expression stiffens. Phoenix: “ I… I don’t want to lose you again.” Phoenix is right in front of Miles’ face and a tear falls. Phoenix: “I’m glad you came back, Edgeworth.” Phoenix hugs Miles and they start crying. Phoenix: “ I missed you…” Page four end.

Page five: Doodles of different scenarios. Top left: Miles is holding Phoenix’s arm while looking away and blushing. Phoenix is shocked, but smiling. Miles: “W-Wright… Would you like to have dinner together?” Phoenix: “HUH?! Oh- um… Yeah!!” Top right: Miles is looking away and holding his right arm. He looks pained. Phoenix is looking at Miles with a worried expression. Miles’ thought: “How could I have done that? He must be so disappointed in me… It’d be better if I wasn’t here.” Phoenix’s thought: “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re stronger than you think, Edgeworth.” Bottom left: Phoenix is facing the viewer with a scared expression, sweating. Miles is glaring at Phoenix from behind with a menacing aura around him. Text: “Hyping himself up to talk to Phoenix [arrow pointing at Miles]” Bottom right: Phoenix is wearing his beanie with a stubble. He is talking on the phone with a smile on his face and his eyes are closed. Trucy is next to him happily yelling something. There is a split to where Miles is. Miles holding his book and smiling while talking to Phoenix on the phone. Box text “They’re not perfect, but they’re trying.” End description]

This is supposed to be a part 2 of the comic where Miles spirals. You don't have to read that one to understand this one, but I'll link it if you want to see it! (TW// suicide ideation, graphic depiction of suicide attempt) Link to the comic

Some of my opinions/thoughts below! I tried my best to make it make sense-- 🙇🏻‍♀️

There was supposed to be a whole scene where Miles calls Phoenix, they talk over the phone for a bit, and decide to meet up. I didn't know what they'd say and I didn't the energy, so I skipped to their conversation-- 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

Also, I was skimming through case 1-5 again and I noticed that Miles was actually very open and communicative about what he was feeling and going through. Even Phoenix (and everyone tbh) noticed how badly Miles was suffering. They saw it with their own eyes, too. I hear a lot of people in the fandom talk about how Miles doesn't communicate his feelings at all, so I was surprised to see that.

Although it doesn't excuse Miles hurting his friends, it made me understand more of why Miles probably felt alone and had to deal with his problems himself. It'd be hard to trust people/ask for help when they've either betrayed you in some of the worst ways possible, ignored you, minimized your feelings, or is a literal child. I love Lana, but imo she was probably one of the worst person at the time to be the one telling Miles to trust people. From Miles' POV she just betrayed and traumatized him, so I find it hard to think that Miles could listen to her about trust even if he wanted to.

Even with Phoenix. They're not close at this time and so far, no fault on Phoenix, Miles hasn't had many good experiences with Phoenix in adulthood. Yes, Phoenix solved DL-6, which Miles seems really grateful for, but he leaves Miles to deal with the aftermath alone. Of course, it's hard to know how to help someone suffering with trauma. (I really don't like the whole "saving" Miles from his trauma, cuz you can't just do that?? Like they both say that... 🤨) Regardless, Miles didn't really have anyone he felt like he could trust there. At least according to the games, Phoenix drops everything because Maya left. He didn't get in contact with Miles until case 1-5. Throughout the OG trilogy, Phoenix thinks a lot of things, but rarely says them out loud to comfort/reassure his friends. It's common for people to be uncomfortable with having to verbally comfort others so they choose to not say anything at all, but that will have its consequences, too.

I like to think that they did apologize to each other or something. Phoenix seems to put in more effort to verbally show his concern and comforts Miles. He even thought about "hugging it out" with Miles when he thought that Miles would need it. That scene was so cute 🥺

I get that realistically, a lot of people struggle with proper communication, but people have the ability to learn and grow, so I want to portray these characters with that in mind. They don't have to be perfect, but they don't have to be completely toxic either. I like it when characters like each other (romantically or platonically) and actually show it. Which I do notice that AA portrays a lot! I do think the characters could be a bit harsh to each other for no reason, too, but that's just me cuz I'm sensitive-- 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ lol I haven't gotten into AJAA yet, but I did see some scenes. I love how Miles and Phoenix could just have random conversations now. They seem so much more comfortable with each other than the earlier games. I want to see more of how the all of the characters' relationships changed over time throughout the games! 😆🤲 (Might take forever cuz my brain is already bursting with just part of the 1st trilogy)

If you have read until here, thank you for your time! As always, I love seeing people's interpretations/thoughts, so that's why I want to share mine, too. If you want to share your thoughts on this post, feel free to do so! Just please be respectful 👍

#image description #described #ace attorney #ace attorney fanart #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #Pearl and Trucy are there only once so idk if i should tag them #wrightworth #narumitsu #it's them pre-dating #in the other comic i put implied when i meant pre-dating SKALSKDML #whoops #fanart #comic #art #digital art #my art #SinnaArt

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saintmeghanmarkle · 8 months ago

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William’s masterclass in playing the press and maintaining privacy

From u/canellelabelle on X @ canellelabelle Unarchived link

TL;DR

William got injunctions to stop press publishing the grainy pap photo of Catherine. They issued their own (photoshopped) image. (Catherine supported him by issuing the apology).

The press issued the Kill order to the photo so the press can’t publish it.

W&C own the copyright to the original and only photo.

70m+ people have seen it on Twitter

Full article text:

The masculine Jawline and broad shoulders match the defiant and headstrong attitude indeed. Nature never makes a mistake📷 In the Past 24 hours the press finally went to Head with Prince William and it was a long time coming📷

Since his youth, William has evaded the press. With Catherine, they hoped they finally had the weak link; they now realised: Only Iron cuts Iron. Catherine is as headstrong, private and loyal as William is📷

So after 2 months of literally harrassing this man in articles and hate campaigns for a picture of HIS wife and getting nothing, the paparazzis supported by the World press, decided to invade the couple's privacy and capture some intrusive shots.

The World press wanted to publish them but Prince William, via palace lawyers, exerted tremendous pressure on the british press, AP, Reuters, Getty and AFP, to NOT publish the illegal pictures📷 That was a massive win for William that annoyed them to no end. Thus, they expected something Big in return..like the rights to Catherine first picture📷

To their dismay, the Wales pulled another historic blinder: Not only did they not get advance notice of the picture, but Prince William himself took the picture of his family, in the intimacy of their Windsor home, and Catherine edited it and posted it with her personal message for mother's day📷

That was a massive play; The press was robbed of their oportunity to make huge money by having rights to the picture and Now the picture was getting huge exposure on the Wales pages without any need for the world press. They got played on BOTH hands📷

So the World press decided to teach William a lesson and decided to retaliate with all their might, issuing a discrediting "Kill notice". They DEMANDED that not only the picture be pulled from their publishing papers but that the Wales DELETE THEIR OWN FAMILY picture from THEIR OWN SOCIAL MEDIA over THEIR OWN EDITING. They even put a community notes on X and restrictions on instagram against the picture📷📷📷

This crucial moment in the history of publishing house is where William officially BROKE the world press📷 The Fact that they were so livid at his continued evasion despite, their very public bullying tactics, that they had to out their own game is a Win📷 We witnessed the world press band together over "editing" issues, to bully a Man into serving his own wife on a silver platter for their consumption because she makes them big money📷

What happened next is another lesson in evasion tactics: Catherine once again took to X clarifying that she made the edits to their picture and politely apologising for the confusion while wishing everyone a good Mother's day as she had. One would think, "oh she caved". Not quite📷she pulled another blinder. Catherine is not asleep, she is fiercely backing William📷 The Press did not want an explanation, They WANTED W&C to hand them the Original of the picture so they would finally publish it and make money of it📷 William and Catherine said "Meh"📷

The same Picture with the same edits, William's now iconic picture of his wife and family, is the ONLY clear picture of Catherine. It is STILL UP, the community note and restrictions have been removed. It is Now the ONLY source of the picture. No one made money off It. The pic has now over 72 million views in 24 hours on X📷

So All in All, who pulled the blinder and came out victorious?📷 Prince William is still in control of his Wife's privacy as the world still doesnt know anything about Catherine's diagnosis or what is truly going on; The press is still mad and was still burned on both ends: No pap pictures published and no first pics of Catherine published📷

THESE are the defiant actions and the defiant face of the son who has learned from his mother's mistakes; from witnessing her trials with the press to losing her in a paparazzi car chase and swore to himself: 'Never Again'📷

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author: WorthSpecialist1066

submitted: March 12, 2024 at 09:03AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

#SaintMeghanMarkle #WorthSpecialist1066 #top post #prince william #princess catherine #kate middleton #british royal family #brf #princess of wales #prince of wales #british royals #prince george #duchess of cambridge #princess charlotte #reblog

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velvetures · 10 months ago

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Helluuuu!! I saw your post about sending requests and mine is actually a really simple one cause I don't have a creative but I just though about a ghost hurt/comfort story

Little Secrets

A/N: So this is very self-indulgent... I hope you don't mind. I think there are quite a few people who struggle with taking meds for depression/anxiety or feel guilty for it. Me included. Hopefully, this helps everyone feel valid, seen, and supported. Summary: Task Force 141 is where you belong. But it doesn't make the work easy by any means. You finally get the help you need and try hiding it. Ghost notices and is the one who sets you straight. T/W: depression/anxiety themes, medication, guilt, insecurity of reader, fem reader, and I'm sure I've missed something, so let me know.

photo by: pedropcl

You couldn't keep fighting it for any longer.

Staring down at the two orange bottles of pills in your hands and the directions packets in the other, you felt like you'd failed despite the psychiatrist you'd spoken to reassure you that this was certainly not a failure. Your brain kept refuting that this was a step in the right direction. Working as a professional and legal murderer should've meant you had no feelings. No failures of regulating your emotions or having such miserable trouble falling asleep at night. That nice woman who'd put the prescription in for you said it would take two to three weeks to see a difference. It felt like no time, yet an eternity all at once. Relief felt so far away, but insignificant compared to other people you often compared your personal struggles with.

You weren't homeless, you could eat without worrying, you had clothes and shoes all of the time, and never needed to wonder if you would have enough money to take care of your responsibilities. Education hadn't been a problem, you were well-respected despite being a woman in such a male-dominated field and kept up with your work extremely well. At least, when your brain decided to deny that you had the ability to do anything. Or... repeatedly try to convince you that nothing you did was worth a damn or actually made you useful. Vicious cycles of fighting with your own brain, knowing that you shouldn't feel or think this way but have no strength or way of stopping. None of the "hacks," meditations, or affirmation bullshit touched that panicky feeling you had mere minutes after laying down at night.

The pills shaking around in your hands were your last resort. And they made you feel so fucking embarrassed as you tucked them in your pockets before entering back into HQ. Praying to god that none of the 141 would see you with them or hear that slight sound of them rattling in their bottles. By grace or luck, you were able to avoid all of them and got back to your quarters to stash them under your bed in a small ammo box repurposed for some personal belongings. The directions you'd thrown away on your drive back, just taking a picture of them for reference and ditching the paper copies so you wouldn't have to keep track of those.

"This better fucking help," You breathe out heavily to yourself.

Staring up at the ceiling and almost dreading having to take one tonight before bed and the other when you wake up the next morning. Daily reminders of how you couldn't be hard and cold like the others. Cool and collected like Gaz, confident like Soap, unaffected like Ghost, or just so very reliable like Price. It made you feel like the weak link needing support. You'd never needed it before, and within two years you'd suddenly realized that your own mind was winning in a fight you'd never even been aware of fighting in the first place.

Keeping all of them in the dark about this would be safest. If they didn't need to question your stability, then it wouldn't feel like such pressure to perform. And hopefully, after a few weeks, things might start to shift a little. Maybe enough to where you could begin sorting out the other problems without the image of a cluttered attic representing the state of your head. Taking care to not raise the alert of the 141 wouldn't be easy. Always noticing everything out of sheer training and sharpened instincts. Having no other good ideas... You just settled on doing everything you could to keep your little secrets under wraps.

In the following couple of days, you’d become adjusted to the routine of taking your medications on the surface level. While the one tasked with easing you anxiety and depression wasn’t going to take effect for quite a while longer the other -a sleeping aid- was definitely making a significant impact. You were able to actually fall asleep and stay that way, problem was, with a couple missions impending in the near future, you were getting concerned that if you took them when you were supposed to -on a schedule- that staying awake would be next to impossible. And if you didn’t take them at all… you didn’t want to deal with the consequences of breaking a much more healthy habit.

And the reason you were so worried about the missions was because of a reoccurring problem that the 141 began finding you falling victim to. Thankfully you were all on leave, making it a lot more acceptable, but they still began walking into different rooms around HQ to see you sleeping soundly. No matter the noise level, temperature in the room, or the space you’d fit yourself into. And no one was quite as intrigued with your sudden change in behavior was the Lieutenant.

Ghost liked things to have order, and often used regiment or habit as a very small form of comfort when he felt that his physical situation was one that could be trusted. And while the others just thought you’d found a new safety in HQ and enjoyed sleeping somewhere safe, Ghost could see that something much different was happening. Your sleeping wasn’t a new habit.

It appeared far too quickly, and you oftentimes didn’t look like you had much control over it. There had already been three times where he’d watched you fall asleep on one of the guys late in the evening without as much as a single attempt to fight the drowsiness. While Ghost didn’t like to think that he cared that much about you, he found himself paying even closer attention to you than he had before.

“There she goes…” Soap chuckled quietly, pointing to you on the couch; head laying in Captain Price’s lap, eyes closed and sleeping deeply with your arms tucked against your chest and lying on your side.

Price had a loving hand on your head, and had been idly petting your hair much like a father would despite being hardly of age to act it. Yet, Ghost felt that Price’s warmth towards you wasn’t the entire reason you had yet again fallen asleep before 11 o’clock. Purposefully he’d been keeping count, and this was the fifth time in a week. More than enough to raise alarm with the others… but he was still waiting silently for someone else to bring it up.

Price chuckled, glancing down at you. “I carried her to bed last time,” His pointed look at each of them was more than enough to guess what he was about to say. “Someone else needs to, otherwise you’ll be voluntold.”

Ghost internally groaned. Not only was that kind of behavior what made people soft, but it also made seeing through the mask of affection far more difficult. But before Soap or Gaz took initiative, the Lieutenant was up on his feet and approaching Price with every intention of being the one to take you back to your quarters. Looks got thrown around the room, and Ghost wasn’t stupid enough to not notice. It was the first time he’d gotten this involved, and there was certainly a spectacle of him picking you up carefully enough to not wake you.

Even though he was quite certain it would take a lot more to get you up than that.

Your door opened up into warm, glowing light from a little lamp you’d left switched on. He catches sight of your quilt on the bed and the little rug that made the polished concrete floors look so much less like the jail cell his own quarters resembled. The whole room smelled like you too. Sweet, and a lot like cinnamon rolls. Probably some type of candle or other smelly thing that you had thought was worth spending money on. Plenty more reasons added to the list of what separates the two of you. Debating your differences or the reason you preferred your quarters smelling like a bakery wasn’t his purpose for bringing you back to your room.

But even with laying you down on your bed and pulling the sheet and blankets over you, Ghost wasn’t seeing any of the possible signs that could lead him to better understand what was going on with you. Nothing is out of place though. Your room is pretty much spotless save for a sleep outfit you’d laid out for tonight, but wouldn’t have the chance to get changed into. And right about the time Ghost decided he’d been looking into your business too much, he bumped into your nightstand.

It knocked something off into the floor, bouncing under the bed and clattering a bit.

Ghost sighed, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling and having quite the frustrating experience of dealing with the sudden responsibility of making sure you were cared for. And that meant picking up whatever shit he’d been too busy watching you, to not knock somewhere under the bed he’d have to fish around and find. So he knelt down and pulled his phone from his pocket and used the flash to spot a tube of chapstick near the bed frame foot.

That, and an ammo box with your initials spray-painted onto the side of it.

Compared to everything else, it didn’t look like it fit amongst the rest of your things. And damn if Ghost didn’t have a sudden gut feeling that it was the reason you’d been sleeping so much. Why you’d been so out of character; Setting his teeth on edge. Reaching out… Ghost grabbed the lip balm and got back to his feet and sit it down on the nightstand where it couldn’t be as easily disturbed again.

“G’night kid.” His whispers fell on your unconscious ears as your Lieutenant dismissed himself from your room and back down to his own space.

***

You woke up in your bed after falling asleep somewhere unintentionally, for the who-knows-which time. Just like before, left in whatever clothes you’d been wearing and all of your blankets tucked up tightly around you. It left a lingering sense of disappointment in yourself. A little pinch of sadness rested like a rock in your stomach. You couldn’t really remember falling asleep to begin with. If you ended up keeping this little habit going, there’d be no doubt you would risk everyone on a mission falling asleep at the drop of a hat.

All because of this damn medicine.

One that you needed to grab from under your bed, and sneak into the kitchen so that you could have some water and food. You'd seen one of the tens of sites -during your research of your pills- that it would help digest it better... whether it actually worked or not wasn't something you could tell. But either way, a doctor had said it, and plenty of people taking it agreed. So you grabbed the pill, shoved it in your pocket, and went out into the kitchen to find a glass.

The floors felt cold even with socks on. And while a steady rain poured from the sky, you were more heated with concern that someone would notice you. Notice your sleeping issues, the way you crawled around in the morning for the first couple hours before the pills began working, or the shady way you hid your face in the refrigerator while swallowing down your medication. Surely the stuff had to be working since you'd not been struggling to get your work done throughout the day. But maybe that was the hard part. Taking pills to fix your head, but needing your brain to recognize whether or not you felt better.

"Oh god help me..." You mutter quietly, searching past Soap's energy drinks and Gaz's revolting jug of green juice to find something you could make for breakfast.

A cabinet door shutting behind you nearly stopped your heart. Seeing Ghost's dark eyes evaluating your reaction didn't make your heart rate drop back to normal either. In his typical day-off wear, a pair of well-worn jeans hung low on his hips and an old SAS t-shirt you'd seen him wear countless times stretched tightly over his chest and shoulders. No doubt he'd been up since four. Quite certain he never actually slept, you wondered momentarily if he could benefit from the sleeping tabs you took. But quickly that got covered in anxiety when his eyebrows furrowed at your expression.

"Nothin' to eat?" He asked with a smooth voice, nodding to the refrigerator door you still held open dumbly.

"N-no... just a bunch of shit drinks." You reply, letting the door shut and noticing that he's got a brown bag with grease spots at the bottom corners. He just nods, looking off into the empty common room. Like he's trying to think of the right way to talk shit about both Gaz and Soap's bad choices in hydration.

"Sit. I've got enough to share." He jerks his head to the other side of the counter, turning that wide back to face you, leaving no room for argument.

You're swallowing down a thick bite of a bagel with god-knows-what in British style as Ghost brews tea. Silently making you a cup as well and standing stiffly with both milk and sugar on the table with the expectancy that you tell him how you like it. Not really unusual behavior from him... typically you get along just fine. But it's the fact that he watches so heavily.

"Just sugar, please." You say through a mouthful, covering your mouth with your hand.

He nods, but then starts putting the sugar in, mentioning something about fucking Americans before sliding the mug closer to you with a couple of fingers. Those damned eyes are just as observant as ever when you crumple up the finished sandwich before he even steeps his own drink. It made you nervous. Wondering if those pills were helping with your appetite too. The psychiatrist said it could; Something about feeling less stressed can give your body more opportunities to worry about being hungry. It was one of those facts on the medication packet you'd taken pictures of.

"Plans for today, L.t.?" You ask, sipping the tea, eyes grazing over the cup rim as you stare at the back of his head.

Mask rucked up high enough to eat and drink freely he nods his head. Leaning his lower back against the edge of the kitchen counter

and resting one hand back.

“Yeah, you?”

You shake your head uselessly, “No. Maybe some laundry, but I’m not really even due. Wouldn’t be worth the water in the machine.”

He hums lowly, taking a drink of his tea. You can hear his swallow and a steady exhale of air that follows. Whether it’s him cooling off the steaming cup or just breathing, you cant tell. But it’s so steady that you actually mimic the tempo of it. Feeling the way it expands and contracts your lungs smoothly. Almost settling. Much like L.t. himself in that way. Terrifying until you see just how easily you can be around him. He’s always quiet and composed, even when there’s plenty of reasons not to be. You wished it was something you could do too. Maybe it would help the task force if you didn’t have to spend your energy keeping yourself at an unnoticeable level of consistent panic.

“Know anythin’ about cars?”

“No,” You’re quick to add on. “But I can learn fast.”

You watch the way the back of his mask slides down further and how his head tilts from side to side to settle it comfortably. Seeing the rest of the tea get dumped into the sink and his own sandwich bag get crumpled up. He’s silent as he washes the cups used and methodically cleans up after the pair of you. Even reaching across the counter to swipe a couple of crumbs off your t-shirt with a subtle nod to his own satisfaction.

“I like to hear it,” His hand palmed at the back of your neck. Gently tugging you off the barstool, and grabbing your jacket to toss it to you. “You’re comin’ with me then.”

Learning about cars actually became quite easy… when Ghost was teaching.

He explained the parts clearly, what his goal was, and didn’t get pissed when you handed him the wrong size socket wrench on the first try. On the other end, you’d only been working next to him -well, sitting on the wheel well- for a couple of hours when you started getting tired again. Almost helpless to your own frustration, you yawned. Fighting the sleepy feeling valiantly, and taking as detailed of mental notes as possible while watching Ghost’s greased knuckles tighten a bracket holding his master cylinder in place. Surely it was a cosmic joke. L.t. was fixing his brakes, and it felt like someone had stomped on yours.

“Hand me that,” He muttered, head stuck down in a gap between his engine block and alternator, still effortlessly pointing at a pair of channellocks. “And get in for me.”

You did as he asked, yawning one more time. Trying to blame your sudden exhaustion on the rain pelting the metal roof above you. Sliding into the back of the car and kicking off your boots to let them rest on the concrete floor outside of it. Attempting to be polite by not getting any dirty spots on the mats of the -very original- DB4 GT Aston he’d given you trust to even sit in. The leather seats help you glide into the driver’s seat, giving you a very slim look at Ghost through the gap in the hood.

“What exactly am I doing in here?” You ask, loud enough so that he can hear you.

It prompts his head to pop up from inside the engine bay, giving you those same, observant eyes from earlier. He looks back down, reaches in and taps on something harshly, then looks back to you.

“Roll it over.”

The car starts effortlessly. Practically purring under you, and echoing in the metal hangar making it sound all the more ruggedly beautiful. The whole car hums, and as you watch Ghost go back to focusing on something in front of him, you feel the heat come through the dash. It’s a perfect storm that lulls you even closer to sleep. A dangerous thing, considering the one man who could figure out what was wrong with you was the only one close enough to see. Hell, you weren’t even sure he didn’t already have it figured out, and wasn’t planning some way to tell Price about it and have you removed from the task force.

Unfit for duty.

You could just picture it now. Red pen in Price’s handwriting detailing your medications and how it was grounds from honorable discharge. Perfectly common in the military, but it felt like death in your hazy mind.

Not that you could fight it for much longer.

Because by the time the Lieutenant had finished his little bit of work, he came into sight of you, slumped over in his driver’s seat with you lips parted and your arms wrapped around yourself. Nothing short of a pretty sight for sore eyes. His car had damn near rocked you sleep, and for once, Ghost felt his heart couldn’t take the feeling of waking you up. He’d watched you all morning. Gauging your reactions, your lack of conversation, and the way you tried to keep from showing him any sign of being tired. Initially he wanted to be angry. Mad that you were hiding something from the team… from him. But seeing you sleeping there, he knew there was a fight in your head. A fight he knew well. So he left you there to sleep.

Turning off the engine to keep from filling the garage with exhaust, but pulling up one of the small space heaters close to the open door to keep you from getting cold while he worked. Making small adjustments, looking over future jobs, and even entertaining the thought of adjusting you over in the seat a little bit so that he could drive-test his handiwork. But that didn’t come, because Soap arrived with a grin on his face and no idea that you were sleeping.

Until Ghost told him to lower his goddamn voice.

“Sleepin’ again bonnie?” Soap chuckled to himself, looking at you before back to Ghost. “How long’s she been out?”

Ghost shrugged, “Few hours.” Really he hadn’t been watching the clock; far too comfortable to concern himself with it.

“I know you’ve been tryin’ to figure it out,” He started back, resting his hands on the hood. “Why she’s doin’ this so much. Have ya’?”

Ghost shook his head. “No. Not yet, but I’m not concerned.”

Johnny laughed softly, slapping Ghost on the back and beginning to walk away. “I never took you for the type to be worried, L.t.. But since you’re so reassurin’ I’ll take it t’heart.”

Any way Ghost came at that statement, he felt himself on the end of a losing battle. Maddening. Losing a fight wasn’t in his nature. Even if that meant he had to take some of the most fucked up torture to reach it. But what bothered him more than Soap knowing he was concerned about you was the knowing you weren’t okay.

Days out in the field were bad enough. But when they got worse, you were always there. And maybe you didn’t feel much better than he did, yet you always held softness. For everyone. For him. A kind of understanding and acceptance that wasn’t required, or exactly approved of in this line of work. You could keep a secret better than anyone he knew, and while he didn’t burden you with a single one of his, there was always the foreign comfort in being able to come with them if he wanted to. Hiding your own feelings wasn’t right though.

Selfish maybe. Thinking it was okay to linger in his own issues and still demand you give him yours.

But hiding behind his rank and position over you meant he could make that kind of decision without any questioning. A type of don’t fucking ask why that saved him face when carrying you from his car back to your room after you still hadn’t woken up nearly seven hours after passing out in his car. Shouldering open the door just like the night before, he expected to see nothing out of place. The same lip balm on the side table, the same rug, and maybe a different night shirt since you’d mentioned doing laundry. But there was something out of place. And damn if it didn’t make his gut twist up in a ugly kind of feeling. One he’d not felt in years, but certainly recognized as soon as he spotted the orange pill bottle sitting on your bed.

It made sense.

The sleeping. The different behavior. The reason you’d practically swallowed a whole fucking sandwich for breakfast when a cup of tea would typically be all you stomached until afternoon. And thank god… you were finally starting to look a bit fuller. Getting prettier every day, and he finally had something to place the blame on. All hesitations about you being able to handle the upcoming missions faded once he got a good look at the bottle. A medication, funnily enough, that Ghost was well-acquainted with. It wasn’t part of his own personal line-up in his medicine cabinet, but it was one he’d taken for a while.

You’d been in need of some help, and luckily for you, it hadn’t been nearly as hard for you to get help as it had been for him. Actually asking for what you needed -and while frustrating- decided to try and manage it without anyone else’s knowledge. Ghost couldn’t think of a better scenario. Realizing that the only thing he needed to know about was your side effects, and how to best manage them alongside you. Thank fuck you weren’t sick… well… sick in a way that someone couldn’t help you with. A way that he couldn’t help.

So, he sit down in on the floor in your room and waited.

Your wake-up call came in the form of sleepy eyes opening to see the massive silhouette of Ghost sitting in your floor. Dark eyes much softer than you’d expected, and a much more concerning sight of your pill bottle resting in his massive hand. A sight that sat you up ramrod straight in your bed, gasping softly and staring at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t tell Price.” You sputter, rushing to get the words out of your mouth. Terrified that he’s going to get up and run out the door. Just sitting long enough to let you get a good look at his plan before exposing you to the Captain as some sick kind of satisfaction.

His eyes narrow a little, “Don’t tell Price?” His voice sounds hoarse. “Don’t tell Price?”

It sounds that much more broken and gritty when he repeats it. Standing up to meet you a bit more level, fisting the pills in his hand, and lightly making them shake. He can’t understand your fear. Completely blind to the fact that -much like him- you’re fearful of being shamed. Misunderstood for it. Or worse. Ghost can’t recognize why you’re looking at him as if he’s going to be the reason your life ends. When in all reality, you don’t see how he’s trying to figure out why you didn’t feel safe coming to him.

“You’ve been takin’ these… fallin’ asleep on everyone, and-and struggling for who knows how the fuck long…” It’s hard for Ghost to keep his tone even, thinking about it. “Why didn’t you tell me. you should’ve told me. Said something. Anything.”

Caving in on itself, your chest burns. Eyes locked on his and scanning every confusing moment of emotion and each shift as it comes and goes.

“You wouldn’t…”

Ghost takes a fast step closer, “I wouldn’t what?” His hand drops the pills on the bed and quickly grabs your face, soft fingers pressing into your jaw. “I wouldn’t get it? I wouldn’t do what you needed me to? Wouldn’t let you sleep on me?”

Your lips open in surprise at the softness in him. All of him. The gentleness of his fingers, how his eyes lay silkily on you. Even his voice, falling so softly despite it’s rough tone and deep sound, feels like he’s terrified of you being scared away from him. Like that gentle hold on your face is all he can manage, and he’d rather do anything other than let you pull away from it.

“You have to know…” he starts weakly. “You have to know that - that I would do… anything you needed me to. Anything to make this easier for you. Even somethin’ small, I’d do it for you, honey.”

reblogs & comments are appreciated 🤎

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #anon <3 #velvetures answers #anon answered #anon ask

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incisors-galore · 1 year ago

Text

Easy Paper and Tape Stencil Tutorial

made one for reddit so I might as well post it here as well

Materials

writing utensil (pen, pencil, marker, etc)

paper (i usually use plain printer paper but most other scrap paper works fine as well, just be aware that thicker paper makes it harder to trace existing designs/logos)

clear packing tape

scissors and/or exacto knife (those little scissors you can get in cheap nail care kits work great

Optional Materials: Device w/ screen of your choice, printer

Step 1:

Draw out your design, trace from device, or print out design

(in example image I am tracing from a screen)

r/AnarchoStencilism (Deviantart link if you prefer) is great for free stencil designs

Step 2:

Cover both sides (front and back) of the design in packing tape

Step 3:

Cut it out

Step 4:

Use your exacto knife/scissors to cut out the design

Step 4:

Apply to whatever you want!

Happy DIYing!

#kahvi draws #patches #stencil #diy stencils #diy tutorial #punk diy tutorial #stencil tutorial #punk diy #folk punk #diy patches #pat the bunny

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the-bus-called-graveyard-8 · 2 months ago

Note

can you show your entire madagascar collection?? sorry if you already showed it 😭

Sorry to sit on this ask for so long anon!! But I've finally sat down and photographed everything I've got! Turns out, there was a lot. So without further ado:

Long, picture-heavy post ahead. Image descriptions in the post body. Click for better image quality.

DVDs & DVD extras

Madagascar 1-3 + Penguins of Madagascar

Merry Madagascar, Party with the Penguins, and Madly Madagascar

The Penguins of Madagascar, Operation: DVD Premiere, New to the Zoo, Happy King Julien Day, Operation: Get Ducky, Operation: Blowhole, and Operation: Special Delivery

Operation: Video Fun (cereal box prize! It has two episodes on it, off the top of my head I want to say they were "What Goes Around" and "Snakehead!") and Operation: Search and Rescue (redbox ebay buy, I think it has six or eight season two episodes)

Marty's Rainbow Wig (Mada3 bonus)

2 Poppin' Penguins wind up toys (PoM Blu-ray bonus)

Video Games

Mada1 for GameCube, Mada2, Mada3, PoM and Madagascar Kartz for Wii, TPoM, TPoM: Dr. Blowhole Returns Again and Madagascar Kartz for NintendoDS, and Operation: Penguin for GameBoy Advance

Literature

Mada 1-3 + PoM movie novelizations

Madagascar: It's A Zoo In Here!, Madagascar Little Golden Book, Meet the Penguins!, Fish Happens: Words of Wisdom from the Penguins

Mada2, Mada3, PoM Concept Art books

Two Feet High and Rising, Skipper's Log, Elite Strike Force, King Julien's Guide to Ruling the Zoo, Banana-palooza

Learn to Draw Madagascar, two Penguins of Madagascar sticker and activity books

Mada2, Mada3, and four TPoM coloring books

DreamWorks My Busy Book (also features Shrek and Kung Fu Panda

Comic Books

Operation: Wonder from Down Under parts 1 &2, Operation: Weakest Link, TPoM Comics issues 1&2

DreamWorks Madagascar issues 1-4 + Madagascar 3: Long Live the King

Five Penguins of Madagascar comics + 1 book compilation When in Rome...

Misc. Paper Stuffs

Penguins birthday card

Three issues of Nick Mag featuring Madagascar, a few cut-outs from other issues, and a one-page ad for DirecTV featuring Mada3

Mada3 2013 calendar, Madagascar Magic Pen book, two paper Skipper figurines

three boxes of Valentines (two Mada3, one PoM)

two boxes of Mada themed cereal and two boxes of Mada themed fruit snacks

PoM puffy 3D stickers, Madagascar The Musical button set (featuring Alex, Marty, the Penguins and King Julien)

Toys and Collectibles

Skipper Happy Feet plush, King Julien Tsum Tsum plush, mini Skipper plush w/mini Meet the Penguin book (I also have a King Julien plush that is packed away somewhere I didn't feel like digging out)

TPoM Return to the Habitat board game, TPoM Clementoni Impossible Puzzle, TPoM Kidz Cards (I got shorted buying this; it was supposed to have Go Fish as well but I only got Crazy 8s), TPoM Uno

Five Madagascar figurines of Alex, Marty, King Julien, Gloria and Melman

Ten various Mada McDonald's toys

Cake toppers and rings that the baker at the local grocery store gave to me

My birthday cake from 2016, PoM themed of course (I still have the toppers, the cake is obviously gone lol)

Skipper, Kowalski, Rico and Private Funko Pops

Super Spy Penguins Hallmark Keepsake ornament

Apparel

Disguise Master baby Penguins shirt (Zazzle.com, no longer available), I Like to Move It Move It King Julien shirt (ebay), caroling Penguins shirt (Zazzle.com, I think this one is still available)

two TPoM kids backpacks, King Julien Loungfly bag

Miscellaneous

Penguins kids drink cup, TPoM Activity Coloring Roll

PoM ice cube molds

Skipper shaped flash drive, PoM keychain

TPoM inflatable punching bag

TPoM kite (I think I still have the actual kite, if my mom didn't get rid of it without telling me, but it's unfortunately broken)

TPoM decal sticker I made in Web Design class in high school and never stuck to anything

TPoM Hot Wheels car

PoM movie poster (torn and wrinkled and stained from mounting putty because I never put it in a frame lol)

And I think that's everything! I'd love to someday have enough space to actually put all this stuff out on display. We're moving next year so maybe 👀

Things I'd like to get someday

the last three TPoM DVDs I'm missing

Mada soundtrack CDs

Mada1 on VHS tape (just for funsies)

the comic books I'm missing (several)

Madagascar Sorry! board game

an autograph from Tom McGrath

#mada merch #grvyd8.pics #grvyd8.inbox

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versadies · 2 years ago

Note

it's the pink apron phenomenon. everybody, i present; how do scara, diluc & xiao (seperate) take care of their beloved pink apron and how did they get it?

house husband au ofc ! apologies if ur reqs arent open (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

the origins of the pink apron ! (the way of the househusband au)

SALUTATIONS. THE ORIGINS OF THE PINK APRON (twothhau)

ADDRESSED. diluc ragnvindr, xiao, scaramouche/wanderer (w/ gn!reader)

CONTENT. fluff/no-angst, modern!au, househusband!characters, cheesiness, ooc?, mentions of yakuza, wanderer is referred to as “scaramouche” here, not proofread properly (couldnt access to google docs and my grammar checker atm so i apologize for any grammar errors 😰😰)

STAMP. after some inconveniences, the houshusbands find themselves in a situation where they now have to wear pink aprons, and to your surprise, they like it ! (or, how they get their pink aprons and why they kept it)

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @ragnvdnr @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @nejibot @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @nejibot @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @astrequa @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino @dudufodd @somberrock @yevenly @lemontum @nghing

POST-SCRIPT. it’s been so long since ive written a househusband fic sooo here you go my lovelies <333 !! enjoy the wholesomeness and cheesiness as always (might make a part two w other househusbands if the people demand so)

LINKS. TWOTHHAU MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST || TAGLIST

diluc.

It was supposed to be a joke for your husband.

You thought it would be great to buy an apron for him before you go home after finding out that it got destroyed, knowing how your husband would definitely need one for his baking classes and whenever he cooks. Out of all the aprons you could’ve chosen though, you just had to pick the one that made you laugh from imagining your lover wearing it.

When you first see a cute pink apron, you just know you have to buy it, giggling to yourself at the image of Diluc wearing it. Of course, you bought another one that’s actually for him and planned on giving it to him the day after he receives your pink apron gift.

Diluc didn’t mind how you were grinning mischievously when you gave him a paper bag that contained something he couldn’t tell until he brought it out. The image of your husband’s soft expression turning to utter confusion and horror will forever remain in your head.

“Is… This for me?” He asks hesitantly.

You nodded, trying to contain your laughter. “Yes.”

He didn’t ask further after that, nodding slowly before putting the apron back to the paper bag, and you thought that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

The next day after getting ready for the day, you were about to give your husband his actual apron you bought for him until you noticed something different when you entered the kitchen.

No, it wasn’t the fact that your breakfast is a new and different meal like everyday, nor the music that’s playing on the radio, but rather your husband’s current style.

Lo and behold stands your loving husband, an ex-yakuza boss and one of the fiercest men in the land, wearing a cute pink apron that has a cartoon bear with a chef hat on it.

You try not to laugh. “..You’re actually wearing it?”

Diluc stops preparing your meal for a moment, turning his head to look at you. “Does it look… ridiculous?”

You covered your mouth to stop yourself from laughing, clearing your throat. “N-No I was just surprised you’d wear it.”

“Of course since it’s from you.” He responds, proceeding with his task once again.

You decided to hand over the paper bag that has his apron to him. “I was just kidding about that pink apron, this is the one I actually bought for you.” You explain.

He takes one look at the paper bag you’re holding before looking away. “I’ll try it out later. You should eat your breakfast before you’re late again.”

Your eyes widened a bit at his response, surprised that he didn’t instantly change it. It’s as if he wants to keep wearing it.

Not that you’re complaining though, it is quite a sight to see.

By the time you came back home from work after that shenanigan, you thought you’d see your husband wearing the black apron you bought for him, only for your jaws to drop when you saw him still wearing the same pink apron you bought for shits and giggles.

“Did the black apron not fit you?” You asked as Diluc grabs your bag and keeps it somewhere.

Your husband pauses for a moment. “...I forgot to try it on.”

You fight the urge to laugh again. “Really?”

No, actually. Diluc did try the black apron on as soon as he finished cleaning the house away but decided to continue wearing the pink apron. As much as he didn’t want to admit, the pink apron managed to rub on him after wearing it for only half a day.

What stopped him from removing it was the memory of you trying to hold your laughter whilst smiling so wide at the sight of him wearing it, causing him to decide to wear it from now on just so he could see you smile and laugh more.

Not that you’d know of course, he’d rather get teased for wearing this apron than get teased for being such a “big ol’ sweetheart” as you comment about him.

When it comes to this apron, he sees it as a reminder of what made life worth more than he thought: you. So it’s a responsibility to take care of it.

Other than that, the pink apron has also made him less intimidating to other people whenever he wears it outside (either because he forgot or just because he felt like it)! It’s a slight change when people start coming up to you two every now and then whenever you go out.

He made sure to thoroughly clean it whenever he makes a mess sometimes, making sure that no stain has been left ignored and missed. He also made sure he won’t make the same mistake that he did with his previous apron, so he’s very careful with not ripping it with his undeniable strength whenever he puts it on and removes it.

When he finds himself in a situation where he’s required to fight – which is a rare situation, really – he’ll make sure not one single person will lay a hand on him and on the apron. He’ll be disappointed in himself if he gets it destroyed!

Of course, he did not put your money on the black apron to waste. He’ll use it whenever he goes to baking class and whenever his pink apron is in the laundry. Either that, or you use it yourself whenever you cook with Diluc despite its size! It’s quite an endearing sight to see you and Diluc cooking together while wearing the aprons.

Eventually, it’ll be a normal sight to see your husband wearing such a cute apron, even if you sometimes chuckle or grin at it. To Diluc, it’s worth wearing it if it makes you happy, especially if he’s the reason for your cute smile <3

Plus, pink kinda suits his striking red hair as much as he doesn’t want to admit it hehe

xiao.

Xiao is a different story.

For someone like Xiao, no one had ever thought about him wearing something such as a pink apron – not when it seems to be something that someone with a cold and mysterious demeanor that neighbors tend to be intimidated by wouldn’t wear. If it weren’t for you, people might’ve thought he was a criminal who’s staying in a small town in order to hide from the police that’s looking for him.

So when the well-known aloof househusband comes out of your humble home wearing a pink apron with a cheesy text on it one day after a week of moving in, everyone is hella curious and hella shocked.

Is this the same man who everyone was scared of?!

It didn’t help that he looked as if he wasn’t bothered by wearing such a cute garment, as if he’s been wearing it for ages without the neighbors knowing it until now.

The real question is: why and how?

It’s simple really, all you had to do was nothing.

In reality, the apron he’s wearing is something he willingly wore by choice just because of the memories it brought.

As mentioned before in another post, Xiao rarely cooks back when he was still serving his boss and prefers instant foods since it’s faster and easier for him. But now that he’s a full time househusband who absolutely cannot afford to let you eat instant foods everyday, he knows he has to start cooking.

Cooking is no problem for Xiao, it’s just the mess he makes when cooking that he has a problem with.

He really can’t help himself making a mess, even when he makes sure to clean after himself, he always finds himself having stains and marks all over his clothing!

So when he tells you about his frustrations one night while lying down on your lap comfortably, you remember an old garment that you saw from your box while you were unpacking your things after moving in.

The apron was a gift from your friend as a joke, and you didn’t have the heart to throw it away since it would be a waste of money for your friend, hence how it got stuck in the old box for quite a while until your husband came along and needed one.

“I know it’s not something you like since it’s not really your color,” You said with a light laugh as you show him the apron that you managed to find among the boxes that were kept by the storage room, “but you can just use this until I buy a new one for you to use. With this apron, I’m sure you won’t put a mess on your clothes since it’ll fit you!”

“You don’t need to buy another one.” Xiao says as he grabs the pink apron from you without any signs of hesitation. “This is already good enough for me. I just needed something to make sure my clothes are clean when cooking meals, so thank you.”

Your eyes slightly widen in surprise, not expecting your husband to accept your offer so willingly without a complaint. “O-Oh? Alright then.”

And so began the days when you see your husband wearing the pink apron.

It felt like you’re still dreaming when you stumble to the kitchen after waking up and see your husband cooking a liyuean dish, wearing the apron that’s now cleaned and tended to by yours truly. You had to pinch yourself to be completely convinced that you’re in a reality where Xiao, one of the most well-known dangerous members in his organization, is wearing a pink frilly apron that has a big text that says “cook lover!” on it.

It turns out that he liked it a lot since it indeed prevented himself from making a mess on his clothing – besides the ones on his arms, but it’s completely better than having a mess all over him – thanking you once again for handing him the apron.

To be fair, Xiao didn’t really think he’d like it either since he only wanted something that can help him with his little problem, it was only when he decided to try cooking Adeptus' Temptation that he changed his mind.

When he first removed his apron, he was relieved that there wasn’t much of a mess! So he decided that yes, this is worth using everyday.

He takes care of it greatly, making sure that it gets cleaned and kept well. It’s as if it’s his most prized treasure, as you jokingly said. To your amusement, he didn’t have the heart to tell you you’re wrong, because you’re right, it is something that’s valuable to him. After all, he only wore it because it’s you who gave it to him.

Perhaps you didn’t know this, but your husband is always willing to wear anything you give him – like the cute green onesie you gave him that matches yours, the nice bracelet you bought that matches his beautiful amber eyes, the pink apron and so much more that he lost count of it. If you even gave him a chicken mascot, he’ll wear it without question.

Though, this particular apron is quite special for him, because it’s the first thing you’ve ever given him after he started his househusband lifestyle. He never thought he would enjoy being a househusband – let alone becoming one in this life after everything he went through. So this apron is somewhat a reminder of how far he’s gotten in this life and how he’s free to spend the rest of his life with the one he loves most.

It started to grow on him, he’ll admit. Sometimes he forgets to remove it after cooking, finding himself spending the whole day wearing it until he finally looks at himself in the mirror and realizes he hasn't removed it.

The time when he gives up on removing his apron after cooking was all thanks to when you forgot to bring your lunch with you, causing Xiao to run after you not knowing that he still has his apron on. It was only when you pointed out that he realized what he was wearing.

He lets out a sigh. Oh well, he might as well wear it the whole day instead of only when he’s cooking.

As long as Rex Lapis doesn’t see him in it, then he could care less.

Besides, wearing the apron outside made himself look approachable and friendly to most people in the neighborhood – particularly the kids, who all stare at him in awe because of how cool his hair is.

Sometimes, whenever he looks at the apron, he’s reminded of one cherished moment between the two of you whereas you prepare your meals together for the first time since he wore his apron, with you wearing your own apron that matches his as you share hushed laughs and smiles with one another.

He closes his eyes with a small fond smile at the memory.

Oh how he could never forget the taste of your love from the meals the two of you cooked.

scaramouche.

Honestly, getting that guy to wear an apron that has hello kitty designs on it is almost impossible, especially when it’s obvious that he’d rather bury himself than wear it.

Well, it would’ve been completely impossible if he wasn’t currently making tea in your kitchen wearing such a garment, looking unbothered despite hearing your giggles at the sight.

Your imagination came true thanks to timing.

You see, the way your lover works with cooking is that he always has to wear an apron even if he never makes that much of a mess. It’s just something he finds as a required thing to do since he doesn’t want his clothes to be dirty from making meals, so he’s always found wearing his black apron in the kitchen making dishes.

One thing led to another though, said black apron was ripped after an accident that he refuses to tell you, leading him to leave no choice but to buy a new one from the only store in town that sells aprons.

Bad timing for him really, because the store unfortunately ran out of aprons that are his size due to a client that ordered loads of it for baking classes. The man was horrified when he saw that the only aprons that were available and adjustable to his size were pink aprons with hello kitty designs on them.

What made it worse was that the store won’t be able to restock until next month or more, and so he was thinking: should he just wait for a month and not wear an apron until then? Or should he just go buy the pink apron so he can go on with his day peacefully?

He thought about it, and he wanted to wait for another month since pink isn’t really his color…

But he wonders what your reaction would be when you see him in such a garment…

“…I’ll buy that apron then.” He says, plastering his usual fake kind smile to keep up his kind charade, internally grinning to himself at the thought of your shocked face. “It’s not like anything will be different if I wear this one.”

And he’s right about that - if you exclude the fact that you’ve been staring at him as though he has two heads.

When you first came home unaware of the new change, you thought you were in another universe when your husband walks out from the kitchen to greet you with the apron.

Scaramouche knew he made a good decision when he noticed you staring at him for almost the entire night, trying to hold his cackling as he continued to act as if he wasn't wearing something he wouldn’t dare to wear.

“Since when did you have that apron?” You questioned with an amused smile as the two of you ate dinner together.

Your husband innocently looks at you. “What do you mean? This is something I’ve always been wearing?”

“Don’t try to gaslight me again..”

“Hehe, just wanted to check if it still does the trick.”

To tell you the truth, he actually just thought that he could just wear the apron until the apron he wanted was available in the shop. Just like what he said to the seller, nothing would really change from wearing the cute garment, and besides, seeing your reaction of him wearing it for the first time made it all worth it.

What he didn’t expect was how by the time the shop restocks the apron he wanted, he’s still wearing the pink apron.

It’s safe to say that he got used to wearing it. He takes care of it dedicatedly and dare say even more than how he took care of his old one. He makes sure to get it carefully cleaned after times when he gets a bit messier than normal. Sometimes he even unintentionally makes his outfits match with it, something you didn’t have the heart to tell him about since you thought it was cute of him.

Of course, unlike both Xiao and Diluc, Scaramouche refuses to come out of your beloved home wearing the garment. He doesn’t forget easily nor does he not mind others seeing him wearing it. The one time when he actually wore it was when you won a bet and made him wear it outside, causing him to reluctantly do it with his usual kind facade as he plans his revenge on you.

To be honest, the real reason why Scaramouche is still wearing the apron is because of its pockets.

With Scaramouch’s old apron, there was only one pocket that’s enough to fit only one item. The pink apron on the other hand has three big pockets that a few items can fit in – particularly his hand-sized recipe notebook, kitchen tools, and spices that he received from a dear friend of his who lives in Sumeru.

So yeah, it really is worth it getting the pink apron rather than waiting.

As you watch your husband making tea for the two of you on a chill weekend, you decided to bring up something about the apron.

“Hehe, remember when you were planning to keep the apron away back then as soon as the store restocked the black ones?” You said teasingly.

Scaramouche finally brings your drinks towards your table. “It would’ve been rotting in our attic by now but,” as he places the drinks in front of you, he places his hands on his hips with a proud smile, as though he’s showing off his outfit, “I realized it does fit my color after all.”

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baziutawrites · 2 years ago

Text

Punishment

Sub!Xavier Thorpe x Female OC smut

WARNING! If you are under 18 yrs old, do not read this piece. I do not take responsibility for anything if you proceed.

Masterlist is pinned on my blog. Check it out, cuz I can't link it.

Apparently, I cannot write short stories, so hopefully y'all excuse the abomination of a wordcount.

English is not my first language, please keep that in mind. And I sincerely hope this one shows up in the tags or else istfg. 😤

Xavier Thorpe was positively whipped by now and even his artwork couldn't help him get her out of his system. Even though he tried to, in more ways than one, nothing seemed to clear his head of the images she unknowingly burned into his mind. And it frustrated him beyond words, how oblivious she was to his suffering.

She wondered how in the hell was he able to do anything in here with this god-awful lighting.

Val got up from a desk, discarding the book she tried to read. Xavier’s art shed - a “studio”, as he called it, huffing in annoyance every single time he had to correct anyone who called it differently - was not the best place for reading apparently. Duly noted.

Xavier stepped back from the easel for like a hundredth time in the past half an hour, running his hand through his hair. He huffed in exasperation, glaring at the canvas he was working on like it had just insulted him. He glanced at her, noticed she was looking quizzically at him and quickly averted his eyes, almost as if avoiding her gaze.

“Can’t focus,” he mumbled. His eyes were now trained onto the mess of lines and colour splattered in an unspecified formation.

“Huh. Very, ah… abstract, I see.” Val hummed, standing next to him, unintentionally brushing his side with her arm and he hissed quietly, recoiling.

What in the heavens name was up with him today? She raised her eyebrows but shrugged it off, deciding not to say anything. Artist block must be like PMS or something, she figured. So instead, she took on exploring the rest of the space, leaving him to grumble under his breath behind her back.

There was a lot of artwork on every possible surface - some finished, some barely sketched out. Loads of tools and different mediums were scattered everywhere, mixed with empty cups, brushes and loose pieces of paper in between. There also was something on a table in the far corner of the studio that caught her eye. It didn’t look quite right - as if hastily discarded and half-heartedly covered with a piece of cloth. And, oh boy, it spiked her interest.

It turned out to be a sketchbook. She brought it closer to the light and froze, when her own face stared back at her from the paper. But this wasn’t the shocking part - her naked body, perfectly recreated in the act of riding a dick from the perspective of a person underneath her - that was. A pair of large hands were gripping her hips, digging their fingers into her flesh desperately. Xavier’s hands.

She leafed through the rest of the pages, finding loads of different sexual acts depicted with her at the forefront, with an occasional study of her face. She grinned to herself, quite flattered and embarrassed at how much she must have affected him to draw her that many times in a separate, dedicated sketchbook. Given his abilities, he definitely didn't use this solely as a study of human anatomy.

“Hey,” she called to him, smiling mischievously at him when she got his attention, “private porn collection?” She held the book higher so he could see it. Even in the dim lighting she saw his eyes growing wide. A deep shade of red flushed his face - she had never seen him so flustered and embarrassed before. He started towards her, yanked the sketchbook from her hands and shoved it angrily under some unfinished sketches.

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” She stepped back, crossing her arms.

He kept running his fingers through his hair, agitated. And then he snapped.

“You, Val. YOU. You are messing with my fucking head. Can’t you fucking see that?” He grabbed the canvas he was just working on and shook it in her face. “I can’t focus on shit, I haven’t been able to paint a single thing for god damn weeks. I haven’t been able to get you out of my fucking head for fucking weeks!”

He threw it onto the floor in anger, where it laid, wet paint gleaming in the dim light. He sat down on a stool and hid his face in his hands, steadying his breath.

“I can not stop thinking about you.” His voice now soft, quiet. He rubbed his temples, clearly very frustrated. “I dream about you more than I’d like to admit, in the ways I’m too embarrassed to say out loud.”

“It’s just… I want you so fucking bad all the fucking time, Valerye.”

Valerye remained silent. This was not what she expected to hear. A lecture on personal space or not snooping around in other people’s personal belongings, maybe. But this? Of course she noticed how needy he was when they fucked… and when they didn’t. Yet, it never crossed her mind that she had this much control over him.

Xavier Thorpe was officially smitten. And it excited her.

Step by step, she slowly advanced towards him, a slight smirk curving her lips. She could see his darting eyes and sheepish expression. This was good. Very, very good.

“Tell me, Xavi.” She stopped in front of him and lifted his chin with one of her fingers, forcing him to look her up in the eye. “How exactly is this supposed to be my problem? Or… my fault?”

His breath hitched as he inhaled sharply, eyes widened. She was calm and methodical, but he could make out an underlying tone lacing her voice. A warning to be careful, not to play with fire. This made his head spin, he gripped the edges of the seat for comfort. There also was a lingering promise of danger, a sweet risk of getting burned if he leaned into the flames too much. He swallowed, his knuckles cracking, trying not to let his mind be overcome by the dizziness he constantly felt near her. Shifting on his seat slightly, embarrassed of the fact he was getting hard so soon, he tried to hide his growing erection by pulling his shirt down.

“It’s not–”

“No?” She interrupted in a sickeningly sweet voice. And then there was her knee in between his legs, pressing against his crotch. He froze and squeaked, heat spreading through his body at the sudden contact. “Are you sure about that? Because that’s not what you’ve just screamed at me, baby.”

Xavier’s breath quickened, grasping at the fleeting self-control, desperate not to give in and rub himself on her knee. She definitely could feel his growing erection and his face turned even redder.

“I don’t think you were nice to me.” Her face was inches from his, studying his expression, her hot breath mixing with his. His plump lips parted slightly, a dazed look in his eyes, that were trained on her mouth. The way she was smiling made his head spin.

He threw caution to the wind and lunged for a kiss - but instead of her sweet taste, he felt a sharp sting on his cheek as she slapped him across his face and his head got yanked to the side by his hair. He blanked out for a second but was swiftly brought back to his senses when Val’s knee pressed harder against his now rock hard bulge.

“I think you are a very bad boy, Xavi.”

“Oh god,” he whimpered weakly, earning a dark chuckle from her that tickled his strained, exposed neck. More pathetic sounds escaped his throat as she placed surprisingly delicate, wet kisses along the line of his ear, not letting go of his hair. He didn’t think he could get even more turned on, yet somehow she managed to push him further with ease.

He felt his seat being rolled backwards and his back hit the hard, cold wall, trapping him in front of his girlfriend.

“And do you know what happens to bad boys? They get punished.”

She bit his neck suddenly, hard and he couldn’t help himself any more. A twinge of shame shot through his chest at how little it took her to make him a desperate, whining mess. His hips rutted against her knee, the pain mixing with pleasure in an intoxicating way. His moans filled the cool air inside the art studio, clashing with his flushed, sweaty skin, making Val feel the wetness seep through her underwear.

Almost as if he sensed it, his hands flew towards her waist, pulling her onto his lap, digging his fingers into her flesh in a needy way. She moaned despite herself at the sudden contact of his hard, heaving chest flush against her, his hot, wet lips crashing with hers. Oh, he felt so, so good, so right.

But Valerye could not be having it. He had to be punished. She slapped him again and gripped his face forcefully. She watched him in bemused disbelief as his eyes rolled back momentarily with a pained but lustful groan bubbling in his throat. This fucker was enjoying it just as much as she did.

“You are positively filthy, Xavi.”

He smiled at her stupidly, which made a coil in her stomach grow tighter. She quickly grasped his shirt and pulled it over his head, trapping his arms behind him in the tangle of fabric. Now, with one distraction out of the way, she could go on with the plan that has just formed inside her head.

“And I think we have to do something about that.” She smirked, pulling his sweatpants down his long, lanky legs and chuckled at how eager he was to help, lifting his hips up to make it easier for her to undress him.

“Yes,” he whispered breathlessly, “yes, please.”

Xavier shuddered under her fingers caressing his chest, bumping the back of his head on the hard wall as he relished in the sensation - but whipped back it almost instantly when she stopped at his nipples and pinched them. Hard.

Again, and again, she toyed with them, a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she watched him squirm and strain against the fabric of his own shirt restraining him. She straddled his lap, leaned forward, and latched her mouth onto one of his hardened nipples. She could feel the heat emanating from his massive bulge as he bucked his hips, desperately trying to find any friction to comfort his throbbing cock. His moans got louder, raspier, needier, the longer she sucked and licked them, leaving sloppy trails of saliva on his burning skin. And just as he started to quiver, she stopped.

His face scrunched in frustration at the sudden loss of contact, only to fill with hope as his underpants got pulled down to join the pants somewhere around his ankles. Poor thing, she thought to herself, slowly taking off her skirt and underwear, watching his eyes grow wide when she came back onto his lap. His dick was rock hard by now, twitching just mere millimeters from her wet pussy. He could feel the heat just out of his reach and whimpered, lifting his hips in a desperate attempt to at least brush his tip against her - to no avail. She grabbed him by his throat, pushing him back against the wall, making his breath wheezy.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed, smiling at his dazed expression and she slithered her fingers into his disheveled locks. “You’re not being a very good boy. Think you’ll just… watch me.”

She pulled at his hair and grazed at his long neck, earning another strained moan from him. His eyes rolled back at the sensation of her teeth almost breaking his skin, following with a soothing lick over the pulsating mark she left. And when she moaned his name into his ear, his eyes snapped back to her, his pulse quickening, as he realized what she meant by ‘watching her’. His breathing almost stopped when his eyes laid on her palm, working her own wet clit almost on top of his swollen cock.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” a strangled string of words poured out of his mouth. His dick twitched again, involuntarily and tapped her hand and before he knew it, his face was stinging again, a red splotch forming on his cheek and tears prickling the corners of his eyes. Valerie almost felt sorry for him for a moment, until he pleaded.

“Do it again,” his eyes glossy with pupils blown out, burned into hers with a sudden despair. “Please, I’ve been bad.”

Xavier’s needy, faltering voice made her jolt with sudden pleasure and a new wave of wetness seeped out of her as she picked up the pace on rubbing herself. It didn’t go unnoticed, as his dick, now leaking, twitched once again, just as another slap graced his other side of his face. To his surprise, he felt drops of wet, thick liquid on his shaft and when he looked down at Val once again, his brain went hazy. He felt as if he could explode right here, right now.

“See what you’ve done?” She moaned, feeling her juices seep through her fingers in long, sticky strings, landing on his erect cock beneath her. With her mouth agape, getting lost in the pleasure, she locked eyes with him - and the pure lust she saw in them sent her over the edge in seconds.

“Xavier–”

He held his breath the entire time she writhed and moaned his name throatily over him. He desperately tried to ingrain the image in his mind in every single detail, every movement and every sound she made. Only when she removed her fingers from her clit, he saw how much they were drenched in her thick, glistening juices. Without a second thought, he leaned forward and clamped his mouth around them and sucked hungrily, lapping and slurping her palm clean. He looked like he had never tasted anything more delicious in his entire life.

Valerye’s face flushed with heat, as she felt fuzzy at his devoted action. He earned some ‘relief’. But only a tiny bit.

“Good boy,” she cooed and she could see his mind going places. She pulled her hand away - now coated with his saliva - and hovered it over his swollen dick. “I think you’ve earned a little bit of a reward.”

And with that, she slowly dragged her slippery fingers from his balls up, coating him evenly with her juices, ending at his pulsating, purple tip and enveloped it into her hand. With a steady grip, she started pumping.

Xavier forgot how to breathe. He felt like his brain went through a system restart and then, finally, a flood of long awaited pleasure crashed over him, taking over his senses. He spasmed and started trembling, a long, guttural moan followed by a slur of garbled ‘thank you’s fell from his mouth. He was bucking his hips in a frenzy, desperate to reach his release that was inching closer with every pump of Val’s slick hand. His jaw slacked, eyes crossed and rolling back under half-closed eyelids, he looked mad, completely out of control. He was so close, so fucking close–

And then she stopped. And did it all over again, and again, and again.

He never felt so desperate, so angry and so horny in his lifetime. His cock hurt at this point, his balls were on fire and his eyes welled up with tears but he didn’t want her to stop. When she let go of him once again, just as he was about to cross the point of no return, he cried out in agony.

“Fuck, no, please, no no no, don’t!” He wailed and whined in a high-pitched, cracking voice, pumping the air desperately, feeling the release painfully getting away from him.

“What's wrong, baby, you’ve had enough?” She teased, not doing a very good job at concealing her own trembling voice. The way he acted in such a frenzied despair made her want to rut herself on his thigh, face or cock - anywhere at this point. But she had one more thing in mind, before she would let him get what he craved so badly.

“Yes! No, please, don’t–”

His incredibly throbbing dick was in her grasp again, she was pumping him so fast he almost could not take this torture anymore. He was so over, and yet understimulated at the same time. He was making sounds that didn’t sound human no more, as he felt getting closer and closer to the dreaded edge, afraid that he might get denied the pleasure once fucking again. But then he felt himself being pushed past it, and she didn’t stop. His back arched, he lifted his hips up from the seat, head thrown back, howling in anguished pleasure, as he waited for this sweet, final release. And it came, seconds after she completely let go of him once again.

“Nonononono, please!”

Dull spasms tore through his body, as his cock twitched, coating his chest and stomach with impossible amounts of his seed. It didn’t bring any relief at all. Tears rolled down his face, as he sobbed from frustration and betrayal - she ruined him. He felt humiliated, degraded and completely corrupted. However, when she cradled his face, he leaned into her touch so desperately it made her heart flutter.

"You've been such a good boy, Xavi. So good." She caressed his splotched, stinging cheeks, wiping away the tears. He looked at her with those big green eyes, filled with so much need and torment - and such animalistic lust, she couldn't help herself but kiss him. He feverishly reciprocated, still sniffling.

"Will you be a good boy if I untie you?"

He noded frantically, babbling promises of his good behaviour. And he didn't lie - he awaited her next orders obediently after he no longer had his limbs constrained. He didn't even touch himself briefly. He was completely under her spell.

She ordered him to lay down on the floor, right on the discarded canvas and he didn't even bat an eye when his back came in contact with the still wet paint. He would do anything for her at this point. And just as he put his hands over his head by himself as a precaution, not to touch her without permission, she couldn't wait any longer. She climbed onto him, straddling him and aligned herself with his hard, hot cock, earning a whimper from him. He craved her heat, her wetness so bad.

"Val, please," he croaked. "Can I touch you? Please, I'll be good I promise."

She agreed. His large, trembling palms found their way onto her hips and grasped them as if his life depended on it. They followed her movements, as she slowly but surely lowered herself onto his dick. She felt him stretch her beyond imagination as she reached the base of it, her thirsty pussy relishing in the sensation of his hot, almost boiling skin. He moaned in the pleasure he awaited for so long. She was so wet again, so incredibly tight around him. He was starved for her.

As if she could read his thoughts, she moved up and down, setting a fast, delicious pace that made his mind go haywire. He threw his head back, eyes shut tight and brows furrowed. Gravelly, needy moans were falling from his mouth. The sound of wet lewd noises filled the shed as he began to lift his hips to meet hers quicker. He was numbed from the ruined orgasm but still desperately wanted to feel every single inch of her pussy, up to the very hilt of his cock.

She tangled her fingers in his silky hair and pulled, making him crane his neck backwards, his adam's apple portruding through his skin. He groaned, barely registering what was happening he was so focused on slamming his cock in and out of her and she didn't blame him. Moaning like mad, she latched herself onto his neck and bit him, over and over, leaving marks on him so everyone would know, who he belonged to. The pain, mixed with the gradually overwhelming pleasure was fucking with his head. He brought her down on his dick with so much force, moving his hips up at the same moment, she yelped when she saw sparks before her eyes. It seemed like he wanted to bury himself even deeper inside of her seeping cunt, even if it wasn't possible.

"You are such a good boy, you know that?" She whispered breathlessly to his ear and she felt his hips stutter, as a pained whine erupted from his chest. "Say you're a good boy, Xavier."

"I-ah–" His cheeks flushed red with embarrassement. "I am a g-good boy. I am, I really am," he whimpered, feeling himself inch painfully slow to the edge.

"I know, baby." His cock was getting even thicker, sending electrifying jolts through Val's body. "Cuz you're gonna make me cum. You're making me cum, Xavi."

His relentless, deep thrusts faltered and lost it's rythm as he felt, once again, as if his mind disconnected from his body, and a rumbling growl reverberated in his chest. He blabbered nonsense at this point, tears stinging his eyes as the frustration surfaced yet again. He was so turned on but nowhere near close to release it seemed. And now, she ground herself on top of him info her own high, smearing the cum from his ruined orgasm on herself as she rode him, chest flush against his, expertly rubbing her wet clit on his cut pubic hair, with his rock hard dick plunged deep inside of her. In other circumstances, just a mere thought of something of this kind would send him cumming all over himself - but now, it was not enough.

Xavier whimpered in despair, feeling her skin getting hotter to the touch with every roll of her hips, her walls clenching tight around his painfully swollen dick. He brought her into him and his lips collided with hers, swallowing her moans in a messy, open mouthed kisses.

"Such a good boy." She moaned breathily, her words immediately drank by him as he panted like a madman. "Make me cum all over your fat cock, Xavi."

He could finally feel his own, blinding pleasure rising up to the surface. His fingers dug into her hips, as he steadied her and and absolutely pounded her like an animal in heat, howling like one too. With every thrust, his abdomen glided over her aching clit.

"Let me cum too, V, please," he was getting closer and closer along with her. His voice needy, pitiful, face stained with fresh tears. "Can I cum?"

"N-no, not y--" Her voice drowned in her satisfied whining, as she clenched on Xavier's cock, her orgasm washing over her in repeated, delicious waves of heat. She kept moving and it drove him crazy, as he now had to force himself not to fall apart inside her fluttering hole as she still rode out her highs.

"Baby, please, I can't take it anymore, please let me cum, I'm begging you, I've been good, I've been good, please let me cu--" He wailed so desperately, tears in his eyes obscuring his vision.

It happened in seconds. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking at it and lunging at his bruised neck.

"Cum," she commanded, as she bit him, still riding him through her aftershocks. This only solidified his fate, as the hair pulling has already pushed him past his limits. His breathing stopped, as he stared at at her with a pained expression and then completely exploded inside of her.

Unholy, guttural wails tore from Xavier's throat, his vision becoming blinded by what seemed to be fireworks under his eyelids. He convulsed, his torso lost contact with the canvas he was laying on for a second, then arched backwards stiffly, before he absolutely lost his god damn mind. His hips bucked so hard he lifted Valerye up several times, impailing her onto his dick so deep she thought he was going to tear her in half. He shot load after load inside her, filling her up to the brim, his hands bruising her hips as he pushed her down onto himself so hard his seed started to leak out, coating the base of his dick and her pussy in white.

He felt like he was on cloud nine, despite the dull pulsating pain he still felt in his loins. Both dazed, barely conscious, basked in each other's warmth and comfort, tired as if they had just ran the marathon twice. Xavier nuzzled into his girlfriend's neck, inhaling the scent of her skin, that was still intoxicating to him. His long hair stuck to his sweaty forhead and eyes but he couldn't bother to let V out of his arms to brush it away. He traced slow, delicate patterns on her back and chuckled when he heard her content sigh. He was lazily staring at her from underneath his heavy eyelids, studying her face in every single detail, almost as if he would never get to see her again. A smile lingered around his lips as she shifted on his chest, leaning into his embrace.

Xavier Thorpe was officially, completely whipped and he wouldn't have it any other way.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe x oc #sub!xavier thorpe

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genericpuff · 2 years ago

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words cannot express how hilarious this was to dissect in the newest FP episode-

and I'm not talking about the Hera thing, or the embargo thing (trying to be vague so I don't overly spoil people lmao) I'm talking about THIS specifically:

This is a very real panel that showed up in this week's episode of LO. Right smack dab in the middle of the comic as the word "Xenia" was spoken. Not at the bottom of the episode, not in the author's comment or in the comment section itself, nah, it was put directly into the comic like an author's note shoved into a shitty Wattpad novel/fanfiction.net AU. And no specific URL either, it's just "princeton.edu" which you probably can guess just takes you to the general Princeton University page and not to the specific article Rachel's getting this "research" from.

But it gets better.

Because if you google "Xenia greek mythology" you get THIS-

Word. For fucking. Word. Even the typo error that's missing a space between the : and Zeus' name. And the URL that's sourced? "princeton.edu" with the slug being abbreviated. This is where Rachel got her source.

BUT IT GETS BETTER.

Because if you actually CLICK the article link (which I doubt Rachel even did), you get THIS:

Oh boy. There is so much to dissect about this. First of all, for anyone who might be confused, this isn't an academic paper or anything of the sorts, it is a reading guide for Princeton University students... from 2004. And hot damn, does it ever LOOK like it's from 2004 because this website looks like something I would have used in my middle school computer classes. It's unstable (literally "Not stable" in its network protection), has broken image links, BUT IT GETS EVEN BETTER-

BECAUSE ON THE HOME PAGE, IT INFORMS STUDENTS THAT THE SYLLABUS "HAS BEEN UPDATED" AND "OTHER LINKS ARE LESS RELIABLE."

THIS IS A READING GUIDE

MEANT FOR STUDENTS STUDYING IN A SINGLE SEMESTER FROM NEARLY 2 DECADES AGO

THAT HASN'T BEEN UPDATED OR UPKEPT

AND EVEN ITS OWN PROFS ARE DISCREDITING IT AS A REPUTABLE SOURCE BECAUSE OF HOW OLD IT IS

AND THIS IS THE SOURCE RACHEL - A 'SELF-PROCLAIMED FOLKLORIST' - PUT INTO HER #1 BESTSELLING WEBTOON ABOUT GREEK MYTHOLOGY, LITERALLY COPY PASTED WORD FOR WORD WITHOUT ANY SHRED OF DEEPER RESEARCH BEYOND THE FIRST 3 RESULTS OF GOOGLE.

I'M FUCKING CRYING LOL IF THIS IS THE EXTENT OF HER 'RESEARCH' NO SHIT SHE WAS DOOMED FROM THE START 🤣 I HAVE SEEN BETTER AND MORE RELEVANT RESEARCH DONE AND SOURCED ABOUT MY O W N CULTURE AND MYTHOLOGY WHICH BARELY HAS A PULSE BECAUSE OF COLONIZATION.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #i'm fucking wheezing #just when i thought i could give rachel a break because for a second i felt like i was being too hard on her #she goes and does THIS #thank you rachel #thank you for reminding me i'm not a bad person for hyperanalyzing your bullshit #this is such a scam #lore olympus spoilers

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compneuropapers · 6 months ago

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Interesting Papers for Week 22, 2024

The influence of natural image statistics on upright orientation judgements. A-Izzeddin, E. J., Mattingley, J. B., & Harrison, W. J. (2024). Cognition, 242, 105631.

Noradrenaline tracks emotional modulation of attention in human amygdala. Bang, D., Luo, Y., Barbosa, L. S., Batten, S. R., Hadj-Amar, B., Twomey, T., … Montague, P. R. (2023). Current Biology, 33(22), 5003-5010.e6.

Diverse mechanisms of taste coding in Drosophila. Dweck, H. K. M., & Carlson, J. R. (2023). Science Advances, 9(46).

Goal-Dependent Hippocampal Representations Facilitate Self-Control. Edelson, M. G., & Hare, T. A. (2023). Journal of Neuroscience, 43(46), 7822–7830.

Reliable population code for subjective economic value from heterogeneous neuronal signals in primate orbitofrontal cortex. Ferrari-Toniolo, S., & Schultz, W. (2023). Neuron, 111(22), 3683-3696.e7.

Need for cognition moderates the relief of avoiding cognitive effort. Gheza, D., Kool, W., & Pourtois, G. (2023). PLOS ONE, 18(11), e0287954.

Developmental changes in exploration resemble stochastic optimization. Giron, A. P., Ciranka, S., Schulz, E., van den Bos, W., Ruggeri, A., Meder, B., & Wu, C. M. (2023). Nature Human Behaviour, 7(11), 1955–1967.

Early visual experience refines the retinotopic organization within and across visual cortical regions. Heitmann, C., Zhan, M., Linke, M., Hölig, C., Kekunnaya, R., van Hoof, R., … Röder, B. (2023). Current Biology, 33(22), 4950-4959.e4.

Hippocampal neurons code individual episodic memories in humans. Kolibius, L. D., Roux, F., Parish, G., Ter Wal, M., Van Der Plas, M., Chelvarajah, R., … Hanslmayr, S. (2023). Nature Human Behaviour, 7(11), 1968–1979.

Judging the difficulty of perceptual decisions. Löffler, A., Zylberberg, A., Shadlen, M. N., & Wolpert, D. M. (2023). eLife, 12, e86892.3.

Against cortical reorganisation. Makin, T. R., & Krakauer, J. W. (2023). eLife, 12, e84716.

Complex spikes perturb movements and reveal the sensorimotor map of Purkinje cells. Muller, S. Z., Pi, J. S., Hage, P., Fakharian, M. A., Sedaghat-Nejad, E., & Shadmehr, R. (2023). Current Biology, 33(22), 4869-4879.e3.

Periodic attention deficits after frontoparietal lesions provide causal evidence for rhythmic attentional sampling. Raposo, I., Szczepanski, S. M., Haaland, K., Endestad, T., Solbakk, A.-K., Knight, R. T., & Helfrich, R. F. (2023). Current Biology, 33(22), 4893-4904.e3.

Neural landscape diffusion resolves conflicts between needs across time. Richman, E. B., Ticea, N., Allen, W. E., Deisseroth, K., & Luo, L. (2023). Nature, 623(7987), 571–579.

Variational log‐ Gaussian point‐process methods for grid cells. Rule, M. E., Chaudhuri‐Vayalambrone, P., Krstulovic, M., Bauza, M., Krupic, J., & O’Leary, T. (2023). Hippocampus, 33(12), 1235–1251.

Preserved neural dynamics across animals performing similar behaviour. Safaie, M., Chang, J. C., Park, J., Miller, L. E., Dudman, J. T., Perich, M. G., & Gallego, J. A. (2023). Nature, 623(7988), 765–771.

A thalamo‐parietal cortex circuit is critical for place‐action coordination. Simmons, C. M., Moseley, S. C., Ogg, J. D., Zhou, X., Johnson, M., Wu, W., … Wilber, A. A. (2023). Hippocampus, 33(12), 1252–1266.

Neural mechanisms to incorporate visual counterevidence in self-movement estimation. Tanaka, R., Zhou, B., Agrochao, M., Badwan, B. A., Au, B., Matos, N. C. B., & Clark, D. A. (2023). Current Biology, 33(22), 4960-4979.e7.

The shared and unique neural correlates of personal semantic, general semantic, and episodic memory. Tanguay, A. F., Palombo, D. J., Love, B., Glikstein, R., Davidson, P. S., & Renoult, L. (2023). eLife, 12, e83645.

Temporally specific patterns of neural activity in interconnected corticolimbic structures during reward anticipation. Young, M. E., Spencer-Salmon, C., Mosher, C., Tamang, S., Rajan, K., & Rudebeck, P. H. (2023). Neuron, 111(22), 3668-3682.e5.

#neuroscience #science #research #brain science #scientific publications #cognitive science #neurobiology #cognition #psychophysics #neurons #neural computation #neural networks #computational neuroscience

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sinnabum45 · 13 days ago

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Astra meets Kirisaki 👁👁

Links to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸

Free commissions if you donate!

[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). Free commissions if you donate! End plain text.]

[Image description: colored comic of characters from Ultraman: Astra and Kirisaki (Tregear’s human form).

Page one: Astra is visiting Earth in his human form. He is excitedly walking around a shopping district holding a bag over his shoulder. Text: “Wow! I’m so glad I get to visit Earth. No wonder why big brother Leo likes it here so much! Humans have really cute stuff!” Astra walks into an alleyway while looking at a piece of paper with directions. Astra thinks: “Umm… I think the shop is right through this alleyway.” Kirisaki appears behind Astra, smirking. Kirisaki: “ Hm? I didn’t expect to meet any Ultras here.” Astra is startled.

Page two: Astra turns around and confronts Kirisaki. Astra: “Huh?! W-Who are you…?” Kirisaki approaches Astra while keeping eye contact, “It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Kirisaki laughs while his eyes flicker red and says, “You can call me Kirisaki.” Astra is on guard and suspicious of him. End of comic.

Page three: An info sheet for Astra and Kirisaki. Full body chibi of Astra in his human form. Text: “Astra

- 10, 000 years old

- Leo's younger twin brother

I liked his human design from the manga-he's very cute.

In this comic, he wanted to visit Earth for fun since he's only been there to help leo fight I HC that Astra is drawn to colorful, pretty, and cute things.”

Kirisaki’s full body chibi is at the bottom of the page. Text: “Kirisaki (Tregear)

- 12, 000 years old

- A little fucked up

- obsessed with Taro (canon)

I imagine this takes place in the 12 years of Taiga being on Earth, so Tregear is just wandering. He's bored, basically. (LOL)”

End description.]

What if they become friends or something— 😳👉👈 (They would definitely fight each other) LOL

#ultraman #astra #ultraman astra #ultraman tregear #digital art #art #fan comic #fanart #my art #illustration #SinnaArt #image description

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beauregardlionett · 1 month ago

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a pleasure to have in class (the art of perception) - ch.1

AO3 Link

Strangely enough, the Forensic Art History lecture at the Beijing Police Academy was not restricted solely to those aiming to be sketch artists. It was made clear in the course description that actually producing art pieces was included in the curriculum, but that fact seemed to deter only a few people.

Yang Jing dropped her bag to the floor as she sat in the seat next to her friend and classmate Huang Yi. The lecture was populated enough that they were not in a traditional classroom, instead filing into an amphitheater type auditorium staring down at a low rising stage. There were various classical paintings scattered around the stage and a podium stood proudly front and center. Standing behind it, shuffling through a stack of papers, was an unassuming man.

“Is that our professor?” Yang Jing whispered, leaning over to Huang Yi. He glanced up from where he was already scribbling in his notebook. Huang Yi looked first at her, then down at the stage.

“I guess so. He doesn’t look much like a police officer, though. I heard our professor doesn’t do much field work.”

Yang Jing made a face, leaning away from Huang Yi.

“How are we supposed to learn from someone who doesn’t work in the field?” she whispered fiercely.

The seat beside Yang Jing rattled as someone sat down quickly, stealing her attention. She was met with the frazzled appearance of Zhang Xinning.

“I didn’t miss anything, right?” Zhang Xinning asked, breathless as she dug out her notebook. “My bus was late today.”

Yang Jing reached over to fondly smooth down her friend’s messy fly away hairs, shaking her head. “Lecture hasn’t started yet, you’re fine.”

“Hello everyone,” the instructor said, soft voice amplified by the microphone clipped to his shirt collar. “Welcome to class. My name is Shen Yi and I’ll be conducting this course for the semester. Let’s get started, shall we?”

Yang Jing listened apathetically as Shen-laoshi worked quickly through the syllabus, answering questions that various students had about course requirements, and detailing his contact information and office hours.

Twenty minutes into the hour-long lecture, Shen-laoshi turned away from the podium and walked to one side of the stage. He hefted a large canvas off the floor and walked back to the center of the stage where an empty easel had been sitting behind him. Propping the canvas carefully on the easel, Shen-laoshi stepped aside and smiled serenely at his students.

“Does anyone know what this piece is called?”

Huang Yi raised his hand, Shen-laoshi’s gaze flicking to him immediately, nodding for Huang Yi to speak.

“The Garden of Earthly Delights,” Huang Yi said confidently, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

Shen-laoshi nodded, smiling a little brighter. He scooped up the pile of papers off his podium and stepped off the stage, handing them to a student in the front row. “Correct. This piece is originally a triptych by Hieronymus Bosch, but it’s been condensed to one canvas here. I’m passing out a printed version of this piece for you all to examine.”

Once the papers had been passed throughout the students, Shen-laoshi leaned his hands on the podium and stared out at his class.

“What do you think this piece is about? What do you notice?”

Shen-laoshi stood patiently at his podium, observing the class as they poured over the image before them. Yang Jing stared down at the strange, vibrant piece on her desk panel, glancing sideways at Zhang Xinning who was tracing her finger over the paper to better observe the details.

After a few minutes of silence, a student on the other side of the auditorium raised their hand. “Shen-laoshi, it’s a very…strange piece. The right side is so much darker than the rest of the painting. It doesn’t match the other two panels at all.”

Shen-laoshi turned to them, moving away from the podium to get closer to the speaking student. “How so?”

“W-Well,” the student stood as they spoke, clutching their print out between their hands. “The other two panels are very vibrant, so the one on the right stands out. The people there look miserable, too.”

Shen-laoshi nodded, his serene smile still in place as he turned to gaze out over the rest of the class. Zhang Xinning raised her hand, standing as soon as Shen-laoshi looked her way.

“There is a recurring theme in the middle panel, Shen-laoshi,” she said confidently. “There are red fruits throughout that section, probably to reference the apple from the Bible.”

Shen-laoshi nodded again as Zhang Xinning sat back down. His gaze scanned over the class at large for another moment before he turned and walked back to the podium.

“This piece is meant to trick your eye. The three panels seem unrelated in several ways, and yet they are connected for a reason. Bosch’s overwhelming use of detail draws the viewer in and distracts from the thread interconnecting the panels. That thread is sin.”

Surprised murmuring broke out among the students, several leaning over to whisper to classmates as they all looked down at their copy of the painting once more. Yang Jing stared at her copy, baffled. She was half convinced Shen-laoshi was testing them, seeing who was brave enough to call out his clear misinterpretation of the painting.

A boy in the row in front of her was the first to speak up, raising his hand as he did.

“Shen-laoshi, what do you mean sin connects all the panels? Two of them don’t appear that way at all!”

Shen-laoshi turned his still serene smile their way, tucking his hands into his pockets as he moved away from the podium again.

“Please explain your thoughts,” he prompted the student. The boy in front of Yang Jing hesitated before standing.

“The two brighter panels don’t appear sinful, the people in the center are joyful and seem to be painted in paradise. The left panel is painted the same way, and they aren’t doing anything that appears sinful since they’re just sitting there. The right panel is the only one that looks bleak and awful, so how could the whole triptych be connected by the theme of sin?”

“Ah,” Shen-laoshi said calmly, pulling a hand free of his pocket to point at the student. “You make a good point, but you have also revealed a bias.” He turned to address the entire class, spreading his arm wide to gesture back at the painting behind him.

“How many of you saw the bright colors of the first two panels and associated it with good things?” Several students raised their hands shyly, glancing around at each other. Shen-laoshi nodded as if he had expected this and continued.

“There are many common societal conceptions ingrained within us as we go throughout our lives. Not all of them are inherently good or bad conceptions, but are instead the product of group think. We form unconscious biases that narrow our view of the world down to a perceived right and wrong, and we encounter situations with these ideas shaping our view of people, places, and events before we have even begun to understand what actually happened.”

Shen-laoshi pulled a laser pointer from his other pocket and highlighted the figures on the left panel. “Here we see Adam being presented with Eve by God in the Garden of Eden. Adam is staring at her with expectation, Bosch’s depiction of lust - a cardinal sin in the Catholic faith.”

The pointer moved to the center panel, not focusing on any one subject. “Here, the plethora of baffling, fantastical details distracts the viewer, as it is meant to.”

Shen-laoshi glanced up and nodded at Zhang Xinning. “You were correct about the theme of red fruit symbolizing the sin of humanity gaining forbidden knowledge. But if you look again, this paradise is full of humans engaging in carnal lust without shame. And as you all noted, the last panel appears to be hell. The difference is in the colors, but it is also in the people. They appear to have succumbed to the consequences of their indulgence and now feel shame, but it is too late to change the outcome. After all, this is the Garden of Earthly Delights, not the Garden of Eden. Bosch already tells us this is a garden of sin.”

Yang Jing stared at Shen-laoshi with her lips parted, baffled. She could see it now that he had pointed it out, but she didn’t understand how he had been able to see any of that in the first place. There was so much detail to work through, how anyone could have managed to come to this conclusion left her head spinning.

“It is our job as police officers and detectives to be able to set our biases and preconceptions aside, to be able to approach a scene without blinders. Our responsibility lies in being able to see the whole painting, and the details. And it is my job to teach all of you, not about art, but about the art of perception. I’m sure all of you have heard a few rumors floating around the department about me, after all. I hope these rumors do not cloud your perception of me too much.”

A cell phone vibrated noisily against the surface of the podium, drawing Shen-laoshi’s attention away from the sheepish looks and mumbling of his students. He stepped over, scooping his phone off the podium and scanning the screen quickly. A moment later, Shen-laoshi looked up at them and smiled again.

“It seems I have to end class early today. Please read through the assigned chapter in the syllabus and email me with any questions. I will see you all next week.”

Several students started gathering their things and getting up as Shen-laoshi took off his microphone, grabbed his bag from behind the podium, and walked briskly out of the classroom.

Yang Jing slowly folded her desk panel away and tucked the Bosch painting into her notebook, thoughts racing. To her left, Huang Yi sighed dreamily.

“He’s so cool,” Huang Yi whispered. “I can’t believe we get a whole semester with him.”

“Right?” Zhang Xinning squealed, leaning precariously over the armrest between her seat and Yang Jing’s to stare at Huang Yi. Her fly away hairs were looking wild again, Yang Jing reaching up absently to smooth them back once more.

“Shen-laoshi seemed so laid back and suave while lecturing. He’s definitely a more interesting speaker than some of our other professors.”

Huang Yi nodded enthusiastically, grinning broadly at Zhang Xinning. The boy in front of them twisted around to join their conversation.

“I just hope he’s not one of those professors that knows everything about one subject but can’t actually teach it. We already have one of those types - I don’t want another one.”

“Weren’t you listening to him explain?” Huang Yi demanded as he tucked his notebook away. “Shen-laoshi described everything so succinctly and was so patient the whole class. He’s going to be a great professor, I can tell!”

Yang Jing gently shooed Zhang Xinning out of her space so she could lean forward to the other student. “I’m Yang Jing, by the way. This is Huang Yi and Zhang Xinning. We’re all third year students.”

“I’m Liao Cheng, a second year student. Nice to meet you all.” Liao Cheng smiled at Yang Jing’s friends before looking back at her, raising an eyebrow. “What do you think of Shen-laoshi?”

“I think he’s given us one lecture that he cut short,” Yang Jing said flatly, pulling her bag into her lap. “So my only opinion on him is I don’t know him that well, but at least he’s given us extra time to study.”

Zhang Xinning gently whacked Yang Jing’s shoulder with a quiet admonishment of, “A-Jing!”

“I’m not wrong,” Yang Jing said pointedly. “Speaking of, we have a mock quiz to study for, A-Ning. Let’s grab coffee and head to the library.”

–

Yang Jing had indeed heard a few rumors floating through the police academy about Shen-laoshi before that first lecture. There was the one Huang Yi had mentioned about Shen-laoshi’s lack of field experience, but the most common one was that he did not get along with a single instructor at the academy. When Yang Jing first heard that rumor, she found it hard to believe. There were several instructors within the academy - to not get along with any of them would be a feat only a pariah could manage.

However, the more she listened and observed, the more it seemed that the rumor might be true.

Their medical sciences professors muttered about Shen-laoshi’s lack of attendance to social outings. Their criminal psychology professor was overheard complaining to their maths professor about how Shen-laoshi was never at his desk. Most recently, Zhang Xinning had informed Yang Jing she saw their fitness coaches purposefully side-stepping Shen-laoshi in the hallway numerous times.

Yang Jing could not fathom how one person could be so removed and unlikeable.

“It’s not impossible,” Liao Cheng said with a shrug as he twirled his fork around and around his lunch tray. “One of my friends became an art student in high school, and he started acting like a different person. All artists are a little aloof and strange, I think. If Shen-laoshi is the same, I could understand how none of the other professors would like him.”

“But he’s so handsome and well spoken,” Huang Yi argued, blushing pink as he did. “How could none of the other professors get along with him? He’s not a bad person.”

“It doesn’t seem like he’s around that much,” Yang Jing commented, more focused on copying her notes over for their advanced medical science class. Zhang Xinning coaxed a forkful of soy-glazed potatoes into Yang Jing’s mouth, distracting her briefly.

“It seems to me like the other professors don’t know him enough to like him, so instead they’re annoyed by him or don’t care enough to have an opinion,” Yang Jing continued after she finished chewing. “You don’t have to be a bad person to be disliked.”

Liao Cheng and Huang Yi stared at the table, contemplating Yang Jing’s comment as Zhang Xinning held up another forkful of potatoes for her, smirking. Yang Jing accepted the mouthful even as she gave her friend a questioning look.

“You think Shen-laoshi is cool, don’t you?” Zhang Xinning teased with a playful smirk.

Yang Jing felt her face grow warm as she ducked her head down to her notes again. Zhang Xinning cackled with delight as the other two joined in her laughter.

“Shut up,” Yang Jing snapped without any heat, scribbling another note down. “I’m just doing what Shen-laoshi taught us and observing without bias.”

“Sure you are,” Zhang Xinning drawled in a sing-song tone. “And you think he’s cool.”

Yang Jing kept her head down and continued copying notes, but she didn’t deny Zhang Xinning’s claim either.

#uts #under the skin #my writing #writing #猎罪图鉴 #just doing my best over here with art interpretation take it with a grain of salt

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the-nosy-neighbor · 7 months ago

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Black Stuff in Staff Only

Potential spoilers, read at your own risk (though most of this is from the July 2023 update).

Welcome home

Black stuff

What is the black stuff? I think we first encountered it in either the original document that is a storybook page featuring Julie and siblings, or in the space underneath home. The original and a lightened copy are below, and definitely has paint smeared on top of it as well as some of the black stuff.

“All of the paper materials tucked away inside the envelopes we have received are usually crammed together and covered in paint and ink. Despite this, volunteers have both restored and recreated most of what was found on the documents. Below is an example of our work as we extract information from the original document and translate it into a digital state.”—(emphasis mine) About Us

Information about the black stuff from Staff Only:

We know not to touch the black stuff, based on information from W, written to the QA.(interestingly, it seems to say that the QA got all of the stuff that they had to this point, but the information given by W in awayfrompryingeyes seems to indicate that W was holding the weird stuff back) In the photo we have of the original document (Julie and sibs) they already know or have an instinct to wear gloves when handling the stuff.

In the letter below, the QA approaches W to let them curate the items, aka clean and preserve them in a way that won’t damage the items, and is told no in no uncertain terms.

The response to this seemed a bit over the top, but as we have seen, the WHRP members (maybe just W) have reported some kind of influence from the items. The insinuation here is that the black stuff has lead to a number of symptoms and they are bad symptoms:

“It means it is inside of you too, then, this urge to find it. Our efforts won’t be in vain.”—About us

The statement, “it is inside you too, then,” is an interesting one, because I have always taken it to mean that some mysterious force or unknown evil is spread by touching these things. It hasn’t been specifically linked to the black stuff, but it seems the obvious choice in “being infected” with Welcome Home.

“To be honest, we were drawn in unexpectedly. All of the information found on this website was extracted from documents that had been uncovered in brightly colored envelopes. We are thankful to be the first to jump start this exciting journey! But it hurts.”—About us

As we have seen above, items received have black stuff on them. It is after exposure that they become obsessed with solving the mystery of this show (have we been exposed?) The person above is using gloves, and there are notes in Staff Only about wearing gloves and they are available. There are also dirty gloves on the table. I would assume that means that they are taking the necessary precautions. But, these are far more dirty than the exhibit items. (Maybe the gloves were used with the paint roller? At least some of the black stuff appears to have been spread by fingers and hands, based on look. In addition, you can see two paint cans in the bottom corner of the image. Is this where the paint comes from? It would seem less mysterious with the paint cans there, unless this is the black stuff controlling the QA and staff and making them paint.)

To begin with, I assumed that people had become lax and were handling them directly, but it is possible that whatever influence is spread, it isn’t through direct touch. They are asked to return any items with black stuff on them:

“We are overjoyed you have received all of the work we have so far uncovered! Please take care of it while it is in your possession, but under no circumstances should it be touched with your bare hands. Please wear gloves: If a substance begins to grow on anything delivered (?), please place it back in the box it was shipped in and return it to us at your leisure. If you or anyone on your team experience nausea, dizziness, or fatigue, please don’t be alarmed!”—Staff Only

You can see in the picture below that they have gloves for this purpose. The letter instructs them to return anything that has growth on it, though they don’t specify what it would look like. It says not to be alarmed if any of them experience dizziness and fatigue. I don’t know why the QA would take the risk of the black stuff, and it seems that W knows it is there, potentially there, or that it grows quickly and unexpectedly.

This particular email has always captured my interest for two reasons: the content, but also, you can see the black stuff in its physical form. Where on the paper and walls it looks like ink, this stuff looks/acts more like kudzu (for those that aren’t familiar, an invasive species of ivy native to Japan and other Asian countries that massively took over the American south, also known as “mile a minute” or “the vine that ate the South” from Wikipedia).

In these pictures, you can see instances of the creeping black stuff. It is all over the staff only room, and on the ceiling in the exhibit space/or back room (I think it is exhibit space). We can see that this stuff has gotten out of hand and is creeping along. Is this what happens after the inky stuff starts to spread? Or when staff members touch the inky stuff and then touch something else?

As previously discussed, there is a roller on the table, and in some shots you can see what looks like paint cans. This could mean that the roller on the table and the black stuff on the walls are related and it’s just paint. There are some gloves close by covered in the black stuff as well. The QA believes someone is punking them, so this could be evidence of that, but who would know enough about this stuff to play that particular prank?

Known symptoms of contact are headache, dizziness, and nausea, and while WHRP says it isn’t anything to worry about, we know that the QA was sick for quite a while, and whether that is physically, mentally, or both is not stated. I believe paranoia is listed as a symptom as well, with both W and QA experiencing this (as evidenced by their written concerns that someone is tricking them..)

It appears that the QA didn’t take that advice in the email (or is subject to another force), leading to the spread of black stuff. Given the state of things in the Staff Only room, it would appear that the black stuff has arrived. This leads me to wonder, can they see it?

What we can extrapolate from all this, is that the black stuff could account for the behavior of the individuals we have seen so far. The ick, which can be seen underneath Home, and has grown in size during the last year, has stringy bits that reach further and further out.

(Could this explain why Eddie has his moments of paranoia during the Commercials? All his increased heartbeat and strange faces, the sweating and feeling disoriented?)

W doesn’t mention the black stuff. The curator only mentions “more of that stuff is on the walls.”

There is more of that stuff on the walls. I keep hearing phones ringing.—Staff only, QA’s notes

The association of the black stuff and the ringing has stuck with me as we have progressed.

It’s probably a not so common reference, but it reminds me of Red vs. Blue, where Tucker keeps getting volunteered to go through the portal. Tucker comes out covered in black stuff (which I believe he says is carbon.)

I don’t believe it gives Tucker any special powers, just a lot of armor cleaning. But he is pushed to be the one to go through it, because those kinds of portals have potential consequences. The rocks they test it with come out black, and they make Tucker do it anyway. (bowchickawowow?)

But the direct reference to more black stuff and the phone is ringing reminded me of W as well. They hear the phone ringing. They hear Wally talking sometimes. W finds themselves seeing things on a TV that they shouldn’t be seeing (hmm…but Eddie specifically), and the QA has a note on the TV that says to replace it ASAP if it gets broken. I can see two different ideas here: either the QA thinks the TV is broken when it starts playing things it shouldn’t, but also could be a note to have it fixed ASAP, because like W, they are seeing things in the TV that they aren’t supposed to be able to see. W, in particular, knows that there is weird stuff going on in the website, going as far to test Wally’s response. They don’t seem to be willing or able to make the connection to Wally specifically.

What if all the stuff on the website is for W specifically? Wally could be talking directly to W.

I think it is very possible that touching the black stuff not only opens you up to symptoms/not feeling well, but also infects you with something that allows you to hear or see Wally and Home. Those are the only two that have spoken to us directly. There is an argument for Eddie speaking to us, but I don’t think he is aware of us. I’m not sure where the video comes from, in universe.

But we do know that Wally has stated we draw eyes, and that allows him to see through us (or W and their team.) We have seen eyes littered throughout. On the website, all the eyes in the borders are presumably from W, since they are still on the site. In Staff Only, there are post-its with eyes littered around, including one that says “who are you” and eyes on the WHRP folder as well (in addition to the background being upside down eyes. With upside down text. OK, maybe upside down eyes.)

We are all drawing his eyes, but does he know about us? I don’t think we have communicated back in a way that is specifically identifiable as us. It could be that Wally/Home are trying to desperately break down barriers through contact with individuals in W’s universe.

That would make for a good explanation of why the show disappeared. If the black stuff started to spread in our reality, any of those kids would see the show for what it is. I don’t think we have a full idea of what it is yet, but we haven’t touched the black stuff. If kids started to act weird, and people started to notice black stuff around, they would have avoided it.

I can really see something like that coming through in a toy or other merch, and begin to spread, leading to strange behavior in the kids, leading to parents thinking it is black mold or something and pushing the series away for that reason.

This concept art portraying Sunny seems to lay out the plan a bit more (though it could have been a former plan, not the current plan for the story). “Children have seen it and now they know what to do!” It’s really creepy and shows Wally as an oppressive force.

“Everything is so disgusting to touch. Sometimes the mail doesn’t come for weeks. I want to rip into everything I have. My head feels so muddled, too. Ever since I opened that envelope.”

This interview/questions for the website are asked by WHRP and answered by QA in the email above. The note discovered by using blacklight is presumably the QA, either answering in some kind of invisible ink, or maybe they don’t remember, leading them to think it is another part of the supposed “prank.” I suppose it could be an actual prank, but I don’t think that fits the story very well.

I haven’t ever really understood the use of the blacklight/invisible ink. The messages are of the type that Wally leaves, but there is no expectation that it is Wally who wrote them. It could be the QA or another of their staff, as well. But the QA leaves instructions to use blacklight on everything. I assumed in the beginning that maybe the blacklight catches the black stuff, but given the use of ink, maybe the QA is looking for the messages from Wally. I don’t think there is enough information at this point to know the answer to that, but am open to hearing some, if anyone has theories about it.

The important thing about the black stuff, especially as experience in the Staff Only page, is a visible type of infection into our world. If we can see this stuff, either we are able to see it because we haven’t been infected, or because we have. Either way, in the realm of Staff Only, we see a physical manifestation of the influence of Welcome Home on people who come into contact with it, even now.

As we see more of it, I will try to adjust my theories, but the black stuff is an important part of the explanation of what is exactly happening to people in the direct sphere of influence of Welcome Home.

#welcome home #welcome home theories #welcome home arg #the question answerer #staff only

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