#Mum Bear
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mooztoonz · 6 months ago
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“Sorry, I Don’t Speak Bear.”
Happy 12th Anniversary to the movie, Brave! 🐻🏹
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cokoweee · 5 months ago
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This shits a mess
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Work doodles blah blah I’m GETTIN OUTTA THIS FUCKY ASS BUILDIN
Time to go home
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s0fter-sin · 4 months ago
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ghost stares at the ceiling, chest heaving in a harsh pant; sweat ice on his clammy flesh and soaked into the sheet he restlessly kicks away.
ears still ringing, his fingertips blindly drift down to trail along his vivisection scar. he half-expects blood to smear in their wake. his own line of solomon, who ordered him split in twain; half of him given to a grieving mother and half left with the grieving to be.
just for both his broken halves to be rejected.
what did it make him that his mother grieved him more than she loved him? that she begged to be relieved of him more adamantly than she begged to receive him? why did his worth spill out with his drawn blood? why was his pain lesser than hers?
his hand flexes, digging into the raised scar like it’ll part beneath his fingertips to plunge into his mangled insides. no one knows the cruelty of reforming the halved; his name, his being, not nearly as important as his body when he was stripped from himself. no one knows the pain of healing and understanding losing pieces of yourself means losing your value along with them.
how many more pieces did he have to lose before he was halved once more? before his very presence incurred grief so strong it was better to be rid of him than cradle his bloodied remains?
did the infant fight himself? did he age always at odds with himself; his halves never truly whole? he hopes he wasn’t, that he was spared the loss of self; the fear that one may be welcomed over the other.
who will he lose when the inevitable comes? when he’s ripped apart again? simon? or ghost? is it better to be cursed with choice just like his mother or live with an aftermath chosen for him? does it matter if in the end, he convinces himself there was nothing of him left to lose?
his head lolls to the side and the wild buck of his chest slows. he watches johnny beside him, his face lax with the rare peace of sleep; his cheek squished against the pillow, his lips pursed as long breaths escape him.
johnny. soap. never torn asunder but two all the same.
he carefully reaches out and ghosts his fingers along the jagged scar on his chin. even in sleep, he presses into his bloodied touch. he’s never fled his half-flesh, never shies away from his gore as it spills unbidden from his cleaved torso. he holds on where his mother let him go; cups his stomach to hold his insides in place and never minds the blood that drips through his fingers.
simon will never let him become his own solomon and cannibalise himself. he will never let him question which half of him has more value; which pieces he can afford to lose before he’s cast aside.
ghost’s soap. simon’s johnny. his.
whole, in any incarnation.
#yall know the story of king solomon?#and the two mothers who claim a baby is theirs so he orders the baby cut in half so they can each have half of him?#well guess what woke me up out of a dead sleep and demanded to be written?#anyway roba showing simon clips of his mum on the news begging for the safe return of her boy#for the government to do something; /anything/ please she just wants her son back#just for ghost to dig himself out of simon's coffin and she can't bear to look at the man he's become#he's cold and afraid and hesitant and angry and in pain and so different from her little boy that it's just too difficult for her#he's a living breathing reminder that her simon didn't come back from the desert#and ghost has to live with the knowledge that his mum couldn't love him through anything#that maybe if he got himself out sooner if he was stronger or smarter or a better soldier... if he hadn't let simon die...#maybe he wouldn't have changed so much that she wouldn't look him in the eye and see a stranger#if you know anything about me by now you know i love the separation of the self and the person they become around others or bc of trauma#whether thats hizashi and present mic or simon and ghost its one of my absolute favourite tropes#and simon knowing hes become someone else and going home expecting to still be loved anyway?#just for this new version of himself to be rejected?#thats the moment he fractures into ghost#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#we’re a team. ghost team#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soapghost#ghostsoap#ghoap#ghost call of duty#cod mw2#cod mwii#save post
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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 7 months ago
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Shinichiro at the daycare acting out stupid fights benkei and waka have(or mikey and emma in the alt color) hes so cute in his little apron but after 20 straight rejections would he be able to notice how down bad the single moms in his area are for him?
The kids are probably a little confused but still amused by all the things he acts out. The leopard and bear arguing over the weirdest things, the bear complaining about the lion holding an old blanket. The bear definitely said something outrageous here
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kingzombear · 12 days ago
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plz give me the encouragement I need to draw ragapom as veronica and christine respectively
*GRABS YOUR THROAT* Literally ur brain is so huge cuz I'm doing my 1 millionth New Vegas playthrough rn. Fucking GENIUS
Being dropped into a nightmare scenario in an unfamiliar, inescapable location, cognitive issues, not good with words but good with numbers, so tired, doesn't want to be here (also bald lol): Pomni 🤝 Christine
A sweet, caring girl who constantly tries her best, loves the 'family' that she's stuck with even though they can be abrasive, always has a positive attitude, an angel that lights up a room and can throw a hard punch: Ragatha 🤝 Veronica
If you drew them my heart and soul would be yours <3 I can see Ragatha in that cute sack hood with a powerfist now
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bumblebeebats · 5 months ago
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Every so often a poll goes round on here asking "What did you call plush toys growing up?" and i think of how I, a British 7-year-old newly arrived in the US who'd only ever heard them called 'cuddly toys,' and whose overall impression of the American South so far was that everyone really seemed to like guns and hunting, found myself in an extremely distressing conversation with my new school friends along the lines of "Do you have any stuffed animals?" "What??" "I love stuffed animals, haha:)" "Excuse me??" "I have about twenty stuffed animals. Can't sleep without 'em! 🥰💖" "YOU?? KEEP THEM????? IN YOUR BED??????"
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sealochs · 2 months ago
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w. broke up with me. & i haven't been able to breathe properly since it happened. i feel sick. i can't sleep. all my worst fears were true. it got too hard for him, too painful. & if i must be honest & generous & fair & good, it was getting too hard & too painful for me too. i cannot even be angry. everything he said is true. i wanted so much for it not to be true but it is. it wasn't working. i wanted so badly to make it work. we've been trying so hard for months to make it work. but there's been conflicting griefs & different needs & unresolved traumas & every way we've found of making it work for one of us has hurt the other. we both sat on the links & clutched one another & cried. & i couldn't stop saying, but i love you. it isn't enough. how can love not be enough. & now there's nowhere to put any of it. & i have to live a life without him. he's going to live a life without me, a whole life that i won't know about. it feels so unthinkable. even one day feels unthinkable. the future i clung to the whole time mum was ill, in those terrible times after she died, through all the hard things of this past year, gone in a moment. i can't believe it isn't going to be him. i wanted so badly for it to be him.
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styx-the-stick · 1 year ago
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bears in trees was so right life is beautiful but life IS work
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bearsinpotatosacks · 1 year ago
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Can't help but think of the missed potential of Bradley’s grief over Carole in TGM. I mean, if they really wanted Mav’s sacrifice of not telling Bradley to properly hit home, then show us how much she meant to him as his mum. Show Bradley as the tragic character he is and how he's had to crawl through losing his dad at a young age and then his mum too (I hc that she died when he was in his teens).
This would also be a great time to, maybe, i don't know (/s), tell us when and how she died? If it was cancer, like many people hc, then wouldn't it be a nice bridge after Ice's funeral between Mav and Bradley before they reconcile. Like, Bradley helps Mav up at the beach, then he apologises after he's made Mav’s wingman and they reconcile on the escape.
But think, whether Bradley was close to Ice or not, someone else close to Mav dying of cancer, and Carole also dying of cancer would give them some common ground. Some shared pain to remind them of someone they both loved and who loved them?
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jubileepizza · 9 months ago
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Episode 7 of miracle day is (literally) hit after hit after hit after hit
Gwen and Jack car drive (top ten scenes of all time);
Gwen talking about her survivors guilt and survivors glee from torchwood;
Gwen and Jack both swearing in no uncertain terms that they will kill the other to save themselves/their families and the silent forgiveness and mutual understanding despite it all;
Jack’s desperate unapologetic desire to survive;
Gay sex;
Jack getting teary talking about the doctor’s companions (and maybe he could have one too (Jack doctorification fans rejoice)(Jack’s-rejection-issues fans rejoice));
Betrayal;
Gay sex turned into betrayal;
Really bloody brutal violent betrayal;
The whole basement scene is just… and to culminate in angelo washing jacks bloody feet… god;
ANDY SHOOTS A MAN IN THE HEAD
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cakesexuality · 11 months ago
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queerstudiesnatural · 2 months ago
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mothers. oof.
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strawberryshortcake1495 · 4 months ago
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What Happened in Between the Events of the Shelf falling on Henry and him being transported to the Hospital? (in the Trapped episode)
(Featuring my OC, Beautiful Bianca! She’s Henry’s nanny who is basically like a second mother to him.)
Bianca approached the front porch of the house Henry’s family lived in. She was supposed to arrive at 7AM sharp. It was 12PM in the afternoon. She hoped Henry wasn’t too upset about her being late…that boy had grown attached to her. A little too attached. She grabbed the keys that his mum had provided her with just in case her or his dad weren’t home. She unlocked the door and entered. As she took one step inside the house, she suddenly heard a loud thud coming from the basement. In an instant, she dropped her bag and rushed towards the basement door. She grabbed the doorknob and shook it. The door was locked.
Unfortunately, Bianca did NOT have a key to the basement door. Her breathing grew heavy as she slammed the wooden door with all her might, trying to open it. As she did, she could slowly but surely hear crying coming from inside. It sounded like Peter. Before she knew it, the door had broken right off its hinges and fell down the flight of stairs leading to the basement floor. It landed with a soft thunk and Bianca ran down the stairs, jumping over the broken door.
She was horrified to find Peter standing over a giant shelf that seemed to had fallen over. “Peter!” Bianca shouted. “M-Miss Bianca! It’s Henry! The shelf- it- it fell onto him!” The blonde-haired boy cried. Bianca could hear raspy breathing coming from below the shelf. She grabbed the edges of the shelf and pulled it away from the wounded boy. He laid face-down on the floor, blood oozing down his head and his arm was twisted in a not-so nice way.
His breathing was more audible more. The poor boy was hyperventilating. Bianca got on her knees and slowly flipped him over to the front. Henry’s eyes were wide, his breathing rapid and unsteady, his arms were shaking, and his face was covered in blood. “You’re okay…” Bianca whispered, gently wrapping her arms around him. Henry panicked and grabbed her hair, his left arm was twitching in pain which made him cry harder. “I know, baby. I know, I know, I know. I know it hurts.” Bianca said, her head tilting to the side as he pulled her hair. Henry continued hyperventilating and trembling like a scared puppy. “Come on, baby…you’re okay. You’re okay. I know, I know, I know, I know baby. I know, I know.” Bianca said, her voice noticeably softer. “I know. You’re gonna be okay, alright? Baby. Baby, listen to me. I gotta get you up, okay?�� She said. “I gotta get you up. Okay?” Henry weakly nodded.
Bianca gently wrapped her arms around his back and legs and pulled him up. “Come on…” Henry whimpered and cried as everything in his body ached. “I know, baby…” Bianca’s voice began to crack. “I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know.” She turned to Peter, who was just standing there, watching with his bunny plushie clutched in hand. “Peter, go get your mum!” She shouted. Peter instantly did what he was told. “MUUUM!!!” She heard him scream as he ran out of the basement.
Bianca turned her head back to Henry. “Come on, bambino…” She whispered. “Come on, bambino. I gotta get you up. Come on…come on, I got you. Come on, darling…” She glanced down at him and realized he had fallen unconscious. She quickly checked his pulse, and as she did, Mum came running down the stairs with Peter following her.
“What has happened?!”
★🎸🎧⋆。 °⋆𖦹✮₊ ⊹
“And that’s what happened.” Bianca said. “Wow…” Henry said, resting in his hospital bed. His head was wrapped with bandages and he had a cast on his broken arm. “So you did all the work while my wormy brother just watched?” He asked. “What? Oh no no no, don’t slander Peter like that. He was just as scared as you were.” Bianca said. “I’m more surprised that Mum was actually worried about me.” Henry said. He noticed the sad look in his nanny’s eyes and glanced up at the ceiling. “Sorry.” He muttered.
“Don’t apologize, Henry. It’s okay to express your feelings. Even if your Mum won’t listen to you, I will. I’ll always be here to help you.” Bianca said calmly. Henry looked at her and smiled. “Thanks, Miss Bianca…” He said shyly. There was an awkward silence before Henry spoke up again. “Can you like…put your arm near me so I can rest my head on it?” He asked. Bianca chuckled. “Don’t you have a pillow?” She responded. “It’s not as comfy as you…” Henry said, arms crossed. “Alright, then.” Bianca stood up, walked closer to her charge and extended her arm. Henry rested his head on his nanny’s arm, right below her shoulder.
“Thank you for saving me.” Henry whispered. “Of course, love.” Bianca whispered back as Henry slowly drifted off into unconsciousness, as the strange yet warm feeling of safety engulfed him.
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asdcats · 4 months ago
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Had to wait weeks for a phone appointment with the Dr's. Even took the day of work and turned down an extra shift last night for it.
Doctor: "This is going to be too difficult to do over the phone I'll make another appointment fir two weeks time
I'm so fucking done with everything
Ten fucking years I've been dealing with this shut and I don't even know for certain what the fuck is wring with me.
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umactuallycallie · 8 months ago
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The parents! I’ve spent a very long time thinking about these books so I do have some ideas about the parents and their appearances, dynamics, roles etc. I’m obviously glad they weren’t a big part of the books, but it’s fun to think about what they were all doing when their children were fucking about in the most dangerous places in the world. These are quite rough sketches so I’ll draw them properly at some point.
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thedreadvampy · 1 year ago
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The thing is I am definitely not happy or chill in the Immediate Sense lately but I am, big picture, so fucking happy with the person I am.
It's like. My brain was made by and for consistent trauma and since that trauma stopped about 5-7 years ago, it is incredible what the amount of resilience and cleverness and flexibility and thoughtfulness I developed to survive can do when it's not being all spent on surviving. like I had a hundred ton weight on me so I had to get REALLY STRONG to stay in the same place and not get 100% crushed, and when that weight came off I found I can use the strength it used to take to stand up and I can leap tall buildings in a single bound.
I was talking to my mum the other day and she said, "you've got the 'fuck it' energy at 30 that most women don't find until their fifties at least" and I'm like yeah man. Imagine how unstoppable I'll be in 20 years.
#red said#i don't know that i can express this clearly but it's the most encouraging thing in my life#my mum's always been proud of me but just lately she seems to actually really admire me#like she's genuinely impressed. she thinks I've surpassed her. i don't necessarily agree but it's a really nice quiet joy.#anyway like this sounds super up myself and it kind of is.#but also it's part of realising just how heavy the weight I've been carrying around with me for 25 years was#like not to be ridiculous but i have realised again this week. that it isn't that everyone's been raped that much and doesn't talk about it#i just have been raped an Unusually Consistent Amount. i have spoken to a lot of people who have had much more horrifying things happen.#I'm not sure I've talked to more than a couple of people who've had a similar level of total consistency of abuse from all angles#and the one is not heavier or harder to bear that the other. but. i think i spent most of my life listening to people's awful experiences#and going ok well nothing i went through looked that bad so it's microtrauma#obviously microtraumas build up but still.#then the older i get and the more i have these conversations the more I notice that stuff which to me is a microtrauma#is a lot of people's defining trauma. and they're reacting appropriately which means i am SO SEVERELY UNDERREACTING#told my friend the other day about a time someone who i still like and respect was having sex with me when i paralocated my hip#and then just kept getting really annoyed with me for not being ready to have sex again while i was literally crying with pain#until i caved and just tried to find the last painful position#and my friend was like pal what the fuck that's horrific#and i was like i mean no that's normal I've had sex with like maybe 3 or 4 people in my life who i haven't had similar stuff with#like i am genuinely thrown when i am allowed to say no to sex and have it be the end of the conversation. and not end up having sex#out of guilt or out of physical coercion or through physical rape. and i have had sex with probably like 40 people at this stage?#and I'm not sure it's as many as 4 i haven't had that experience with tbh#so like. I'm slowly coming to terms with the idea#that i may have actually been doing a hell of a lot of heavy lifting.#like i developed a sense of self that can survive being constantly crushed and at this stage is fucking diamond.
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