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tangledinink · 9 months

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Would it be better if the siblings brought swanatello a picture or something, like Leo had in the movie?

He does have some pictures, and it does help! He has a whole conspiracy-theory bulletin board that one of his brothers brought him that he uses to try to keep track of things, but...

It can be difficult for him to keep things organized, considering his current capabilities re: memory and overall state of mind. He does also sometimes lose notes or portions of his work, and he's not sure if he himself is doing this and then just not remembering it, or if it is a result of outside sabotage?

The problem is also that when he's in Full Guardian Defense Mode and focused on driving out intruders, he doesn't really remember about the board or his notes. He's certainly not going to take a break in driving out what he views as a dangerous intruder so that he can go and pick through his notes... But it does help. Donnie is more likely to recognize them since they got the bulletin board set up.

#asks #swanatello #uvamay #the downside to his memory and research board however #is that it sometimes leads to him remembering them (at least a little) when they arent there #and then he MISSES them #and feels very alone #which was not something he had to face previously

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alienssstufff · 3 months

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The Slimecicle analyst sleeper agent in me woke up again we analysing shit

The dynamic between qSlime and Sunny is so fascinating - like by law yes they are bound together as family and of course they care about each other and trust each other to an extent, yet there's always this distance that they try to keep.

Both Slime and Sunny put in the effort to get to know one another despite what other people say about them, but there's a billion unanswered questions Sunny has for their pop - and a billion unspoken secrets that Slime doesn't have the vulnerability to share.

Notably the assassination Slime initially had on Sunny (he never tells her this), and the conversation the two of them had in the snow when Sunny brings up the rumours. Even towards his daughter Slime is defensive, he doesn't coddle them as much as he did with Juanaflippa. The distinction between Juanaflippa (as a concept) and Sunny for Slime's character is extremely important as Sunny (even as his daughter) does not fit that flippa mold. By doing this Slime draws this line as a response from his trauma, but when these lines start to blur as Slime and Sunny do more father-daughter stuff together (egg tasks, games, lullabies) -- is when Slime starts to break down (eg: the bedtime rap).

There's only so much they can do as a family without addressing the glaring holes in their relationship before it gets worse.

#qsmp spoilers #stufff rambles #qsmp #slimecicle #qsmp sunny #archive - 21/01/2024 #DISCLAIM: this isnt saying that Sunny isnt Slime's kid - they are - but they arent *a* Juanaflippa (like Juanaflippa and Codeflippa were)#The impact Juanaflippa has on Slime isnt to be taken lightly and not smth that can easily be healed or overwritten by someone else alone #whwhwh dont ask me about the new Bedtime Rap lyrics either cuz i can and Will psychoanalyse the shit out of that too if so tempted

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forestgreenlesbian · 3 months

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youre not allowed to b a freak loser loner anymore or at least youre not allowed to mention it lol. even like five years ago you could talk about being awkward and socially weird around meeting new people but now if you do that eveeryones like "ok edgelord you are deliberately cutting yourself off from community why are you so obsessed with being alone. you all need to go outside and make real friends you are too online." which like yes obviously but why is eveyrone acting like the only two options are you either a) have a load of friends or b) you don't want them??? it is so weird. to be seen trying & failing has become so taboo that people assume if you're alone it's because you want to be and youre trying to be cool & aloof or else you see things like small talk or reaching out to people as "emotional labour" and choose not to do them. like i am not fucking choosing not to do them i literally try to do them every day and find it very hard and then you tell me i can't even joke about that struggle or being a lonely friendless loser to maybe for one second make light of the bottomless pit of disconnect + loneliness i experience every day without someone blaming me for not putting myself out there. idk

#as i'm typing this i'mrealising maybe this is an autism problem. like to feel completely separated from the social world by this pane of #thick glass your whole life and then to hear people say it's a you problem that you need to fix if you don't want to be alone forever #idk just that post going around about small talk 'i have social anxiety' 'then suck it up and learn how to interact with people!' like??#arent we trying to do that already??? i'm sorry that being percieved as a social reject freak my whole life might have negatively affected #my ability to reach out to people? it just feels mean spirited lol. idk. anyway

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hindahoney · 6 months

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Some of you need to grow a spine and stop being scared to stand up for your fellow Jew. Stop being scared of being labeled a fucking Zionist. The people calling you that don't even know what it means anyway, and they will think you are one no matter what you say. So you might as well say it with your fucking chest.

#who gives a shit #jumblr #judaism #jewish #frumblr #jewblr #what are they gonna do. be mean to you online?#youre a jew on the internet theyre already mean to you #you dont think my inbox constantly looks like a nazi message board?#bc it does #do i let it scare me? stop me?#no because there are other jews who need to see support that they arent alone #oh no someone said something mean to me #the most i do is screenshot it and laugh at it w my friends #do you think i lose sleep over what nazis think of me

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cavinginhisfvce · 1 year

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Billy, having a nerf gun war with the kids, when he's backed into a corner by Max and El, both holding their guns up at him with sinister smirks.

"Any last words, blondie?"

With his hands held up in surrender, Billy sighs, "tell Steve I love him. And he better not remarry!"

Before the words are even fully out, the two girls are pelting him with nerf bullets, cackling at his dramatic display of falling over the couch, a hand clutching his chest.

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dipperscavern · 29 days

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was having some robb stark thoughts last night trying to fall asleep… sigh

you and robb usually rise in the mornings at the same time. queen & king in the north, you have duties to attend to that force you both out of bed earlier than you’d like. but sometimes, robb has to be up before you.

his weight dips down on the bed as he sits beside your sleeping form, fully clothed & ready to leave. he wants to let you sleep, knows you need your rest—but you’d kill him if he left without waking you up to say goodbye.

his hand comes to tuck your hair behind your ears, soft murmurs of your name rousing you from sleeps hold. he pulls his hand back as you open your eyes, both of you smiling at the sight of the other. you reach out, still half asleep, hand finding robb’s. he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it as you look up at him—love etched in your pupils. you pull him closer, & robb chuckles at your neediness, voice warm & dripping like honey. he leans in, pressing chaste kisses to anywhere he can reach. he starts at your cheek, trailing down to your jaw and eventually your neck. each kiss grounds you firmer and firmer to the present, pulling you out from the hazy state sleep puts you in.

he eventually stops, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. he closes his eyes, soaking up your presence before he has to become king in the north. right now he’s just robb, the man you grew up with at winterfell. your hand comes to run through his curls, as your other thumb massages lightly at his temple. he relaxes further into your touch, a groan rising from deep in his chest. robb’s body had been wound up tight during his time at war, as to be expected. the weight of his burdens sit heavy on his shoulders, long days of fighting not only lannister armies, but sometimes his own men—clouding his mind with headaches that only you seem to be able to relieve in the slightest.

“keep doin’ that and I won’t be able to get back up.”

he’s only teasing (he’s completely serious), making you laugh as you retract your thumb from his temple. his eyes flutter open, sighing at his own stupidity, wondering how he could ever ask you to stop making him feel good. his mind takes over, reminding him of his duties. if he doesn’t get up now, he surely won’t be making it out of this tent by high noon. he can already hear greywind rustling from his guard outside the entrance of the tent, warding off someone’s presence.

he gathers his wits, trailing kisses back up your neck. once he gets to your cheek, he even teases by placing a kiss at the corner of your mouth. he smiles at his own antics, proud of himself, before he presses his lips to yours. his hand comes to cradle your jaw, kissing you long & firm, as he sits up. your lips chase his, and he places a quick peck on your lips once more as he stands up. his hand leaves your jaw, and you could almost whine at the loss of his touch.

you watch him turn & walk away, he doesn’t turn around to look at you again, knowing if he does—he’s going right back into your arms. he grabs his sword, opening the flap of the tent & walking out. you stretch, content with his goodbye. you’ll get up in a few minutes, and you’ll see each other around the camp, but it’s the quiet mornings before the world wakes up that keeps you both sane. you smile, hearing robb & theons voices outside the tent as they walk away.

“what took you so long? greywind almost had me for a snack, you know.”

“would be a small meal.”

is screaming at your own writing something u shouldn’t admit cause AHHHHHHH. put me & him in a room tg & we BOTH walking out pregnant.

#asoiaf #game of thrones #robb stark #robb stark prompt #robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #robb stark x you #GODDDD #I WOULD #OH WOULD I #THE REASON WE ARENT ALLOWED ALONE TOGETHER #IS BECAUSE THE RESULTS WOULD BE CATASTROPHIC ON A NUCLEAR LEVEL #A BIBLICAL CATASTROPHE COULD NOT AMOUNT TO THE SHEER DAMAGE THAT WOULD BE DONE TO THE ECOSYSTEM #i want his babies #sigh #hashtag robb stark dick me down on some gangster shit #ok i’ll stop now

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sparring-spirals · 1 year

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i still am processing. a lot of thoughts about this particular cameo and- similar to the C1 cameos have some reservations despite my overwhelming joy over these characters, but. But.

Being wildly, fully indulgent and just focusing entirely on Caleb and Beau, for a moment-

I am so deeply happy. That they came with each other. I am so glad that all these years after their stories ended, we see Beau pop up first with all her skills under her back and confident with Caleb watching her back. Im glad that the world has continued being a mess but they are still in tight lockstep with each other, referencing past triumphs and mistakes. I'm glad that they poke each other a bit, still, and keep each other in check, and that even as the world ends. Have each other at their elbow, and breathe easier for it.

Im glad that. After a campaign of lonely people finding each other and learning each other and not expecting to be able to keep it. We see them here, now, decades out and. They aren't alone. They have each other. Im glad.

#i have. a lot of feelings about the role of bringing them back in. while it makes sense from a pure plot perspective just. yknow. hmmm.#but at least in bringing them back we get to see all over again that they arent alone. thats. very nice.#critical role #cr spoilers #c3e50 #caleb widogast #beauregard #empire siblings #okay back to bh meta tomorrow. probably.#character meta #my meta

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nathandrakeisabottom · 4 months

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Headcannons about them with an anxious SO? Love your stuff x

Thank you, friend! Now, in full canonical honesty, I don’t believe that either Nathan or Sam would be particularly good at dealing with their deeper anxiety, let alone someone else’s, let alone someone else’s who they loved dearly and would only be afraid to make it worse (that many crumbling bridges and a guy’s gotta if consider his only superpower is the ability to destroy everything he touches) for most of their young lives.

However, I do believe that post-UC4 (perhaps a little earlier for Nathan), and a good dose of necessary therapy (paid for in pirate coins, of course)--- they’d be more than willing to finally take on the challenge.

For themselves, and for the person they love more than anything.

Drakes with an Anxious S/O Headcanons

Nathan:

In his younger days, the prince of the awkward smile and half-hearted clap on the back. A pulley doll whose only catchphrases were “Man, that’s hard”, “Yeah. Yeesh.”, and “Soooo, I guess this would be a bad time for a joke, huh?”. Scurries to the bathroom as soon as they’re not in tears anymore, and stays there for as long as it takes to stop hearing the residual sobs.

However, his late 30s and 40s bring him a much healthier perspective (and therapy— Jesus, finally) and being the smarty pants he is, he passes on no opportunity to put his new skills and knowledge to use.

That playfulness and desire to find the lightness in even the hardest situations never leaves him at any age, though.

A panic attack? “‘Is something… wrong with you’? You realize you’re talking to the guy who accidentally destroys ancient temples for a living, as an archaeologist? And I still consider myself a not so bad guy. So in my eyes, you’re basically a lesser known Mesopotamian god.”

Got a bad grade? “A D in Psychometrics? I don’t know, sounds like they don’t know anything about math if they’re using a letter to grade you. Maybe they should go get their teaching certificates checked. Hey, how ‘bout I just draw you a PhD myself? You know I have an eye for art.”

Dealing with shitty parents? Landlord? Roommates? Exes who won’t leave you the fuck alone? “What? That buffoon? Guy who can’t even spell their own name right? That bastard isn’t worth a thought of a thought of a thought in your head. Pretty sure they haven’t had a thought in their own head since 1996.”

As soon as his first wide-toothed smile is won, he’s leaning into his partner with a secretive smirk: “Ya wanna get the fuck out of here?”

Because distractions always helped him before.

Will act especially gentlemanly, and theatrically play it up, while taking their partner for a frozen yogurt, antique shop, Target trip, public park, laser tag (yes, really) decompress. Bows when he opens the car door for them. Pays for everything. Calls them ‘your majesty’ for the entirety of the excursion.

All he wants is to get them to smile. And he’s not stopping until he sees it.

When the night creeps in and his S/O starts to lose steam, Nathan’s own worry grows more obvious, though he tries his best to keep it to himself.

Watches them with wide eyes. Gives them space, but still asks every few minutes if they need a cup of water. No? Tea? Arnold Palmer? Popsicle? Massage? Hot Pocket? Sexy pillow fight? However many it takes to make his partner laugh again. But he fully means every offer he gives.

Says nothing as he helps them undress and into their PJs. Touches are tender and intimate, gently rubs their shoulders and neck. Never too hard, never too direct. Plays the friendly ghost and lets their partner take the lead, but never, ever just sits around to watch.

Makes them a beverage of some sort, even if they say no. Hot lemonade with honey is his personal homecure. Says yellow is a happy color, so it must be good for you.

And right before they turn the lights out, Nate timidly offers— with a shy, trying chuckle— if they want him to read them a bedtime story.

Somehow shocked every time they say yes. Mumbles something self-derogatory about himself (“Ya know, not the best actor, but—” “Personally I think I have the voice of a dying goose, but—”) before sitting on the nearest surface and cracking open a book.

If he’s still feeling a little awkward, will uneasily ask if they wanna hear what he’s been reading lately, and will do so if asked— but really wants to read the pirate storybooks his mother read to him and Sam when they were kids.

It always made him feel better when the world felt too big, too scary, too cruel.

So he wants to share it with the person he loves.

He wants to share everything with the person he loves.

And without even asking, goes to the medicine cabinet and brings them a tablet of whatever they need when the anxiety gets especially bad, and says “I know, it’s scary. But we’ve been through scary before, right?” with a kiss on the cheek as they swallow it down with a sip of lemonade.

Lingers, eyes down, and vaguely nods to nobody as he stands and walks to the door.

“Want me… uh, want me to keep reading to you?” But he offers before he can even get past the door frame.

“Do you want me to want you to keep reading to me?”

And the last thing he wants to see is his love, alone. The idea of them crying beneath the covers because they were too afraid to burden him with it, too afraid to be seen. Everything he felt he had to do when he was 6 and his mother “passed”, age 9, 10, 11, 12 after a black eye, the words that his brain told him wrong: spoken aloud by the playground bullies he feared he’d never be stronger than.

But he knew they were wrong. The bullies were wrong. The ones in his brain. The ones in theirs.

“Yes.” He replies without missing a beat.

And he makes sure to hold their hand in his free one until the second they fall asleep… and a few hours after, just to be safe.

The next morning they fucking better expect breakfast in bed— and he maybe, just maybe, might even be willing to spring for McDonald’s, if that’s what they want. As long as they promise to eat actual fruit after. And hell, maybe even a vegetable or two when he makes dinner that night. Did you know that eating right and exercise are actually primary solutions to poor mental health—? That’s what Dr. Dorian said— No, potatoes don’t count as a vegetable— no, especially not if it’s fried— NO, FRENCH FRIES DON’T COUNT, BABY—

Sam:

Sam takes a bit longer to warm up to discussing anxiety than Nathan does, mostly due to struggling so deeply with it on his own. It’s not like prisoners (or Shoreline guards) made the most comforting companions.

The better he could keep secrets, the less he could reveal, the safer he’d be.

So it makes sense that it’s both his greatest strength and weakness when it comes to emotionally turbulent times.

In his younger, more avoidant years, he’d be the first to leave the room, leave the building, hell, sometimes even leave the city after a particularly heavy cry or confrontation with his then-partner. Only to come back the next morning and act like nothing ever happened.

But now, he doesn’t run. After prison, after Rafe, after Madagascar, all he wants is to be allowed to stay. To be wanted to stay by someone who loves him.

Is happiest to just sit with you in the silence. His biggest skill is his ability to weather the storm. And whether you need to scream bloody murder, or need to sit and decompress and just fucking feel, but can’t do it alone, Sam’s there. Listening.

Once you’re done talking, he takes one last, long drag of his cigarette, stubs it out onto the pavement, and asks simply: “So do you want solutions… or something else, sweet’art?”

You can see in his eyes— darting less than solid, certain against your own— that he really means it, in every way that he was too afraid to when he was younger.

The wonderful and terrifying thing about having anxiety while Sam is there is that it’s a vulnerable experience for the both of you. He’s learning, discovering, trying right along with you. And he may not be able to lift you up so easily, but he’ll be able to sink into the dark places with you, and not be afraid to see what’s down there.

And maybe seeing someone he loves so deeply, sees as so beautiful, so smart, so kind, so wonderful, so absolutely perfect to him feel the same ways he does about himself… maybe it makes him think that he’s not as terrible as his brain tells him, either.

Helps you take action by letting himself (finally) not be the smart one: “When ya… get like this, what do you usually do first, sweet’art? Paint me a pit’chure.” Gives you complete control, and smiles softly when you wipe your tears and the logical, the archaeological mind awakens. Mimics unraveling an ancient map when you begin to explain, and you inadvertently hiccup out a laugh.

At times, it’ll feel like he’s trying to run again, but when he stands up and walks across the room— he always returns. This time with your favorite of his jackets, the denim one that smells like him even though he just cleaned it, and drapes it protectively over your shoulders. Clasps his palm at the back of your neck and rubs out the knot he always finds there. Smiles toothy and wide when your words are broken up by sighs of relief. Only to be filled once again with silence, gazes meeting sweet and safe.

“Remember Indonesia?” He offers with a smirk, despite your furrowed brow.

“I guess? What about—?”

“I read the runes’ instructions and ran us in circles all around Bali, only to reread the transcript and realized I got three letters completely wrong. J—V—A. Java. It was goddamn Java the entire time.”

“Your point being?”

He smiles and shrugs. Trying. Maybe he’s wrong, a foreigner in some ancient, uncertain land, but he tries.

“Sometimes our brains are just wrong.” He tries for you. “That’s all.”

You sniffle, and he leans in to press a prickly kiss to your cheek. His jacket is still warm from the dryer, wafting with the residual sting of cigarette, Old Spice Captain, cheap mouthwash, even cheaper aftershave, and something else completely unnameable.

And maybe some others would think the scent appalling, but it’s the strangeness, the specificity, and yes, the stank— everything that makes Sam him— that makes you love it. Love him. The depth. The difference.

The pain, and what he chose to do with it.

Another kiss, this time down your neck. This time, the sigh of relief is his own.

What he chose to change it into.

“So… any chance sex therapy might be a thing?” He asks grinningly.

“Why don’t we find out, ‘sweet’art’?”

#uncharted #uncharted 4: a thief's end #nathan drake #sam drake #nathan drake x reader #sam drake x reader #happy christmas yall!!!#and for those are yall who struggle today. you arent alone #feel free to jump into my inbox and geek out with me #sometimes family is just someone you share blood with #and that's allowed to be it #shea out

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