#Chuckin Up

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

straight up FACTS.

[anneisalwaysangry]

I’m baking a spaghetti at 10:30pm and nobody can stop me

[sodrippy]

(at 11.40pm on a worknight when i should be asleep) omg im so borrreeedddd why is everyone so BORING

[mundanemiseries]

" ...you know....I think I might have to muzzle Ro...or something. "

[ferne-exst]

Who up Chuckin they Chil

[simsstuph]

I parked my bike and chained it to the railing on our stoop. The school day felt as long as winter does compared to the other seasons.

Danny: Hey June, what's buzzin' cuzzin?

June: I don't want to talk to you.

Danny: Oh c'mon now, don't act like big cheese.

June: I mean it, skidoo back to your side of the steps. I really don't like you.

Danny sighed: Ain't that a bite cause we're talkin'.

June: It's been a long day already, I don't need you adding to it.

He put his hands on his hips and his eye brown hardened into a hard line: Why do you always gotta be so difficult? Can't ya ever just listened without yappin' all the damn time?

My eyes opened as wide as they could: You've got some nerve walking over here with this attitude after our last encounter.

Danny smirked: SO you think about me do ya? [he slipped a quick wink]

June: My mama taught me that if I don't have nice things to say, don't say them and boy, I sure don't have any nice things coming to mind right now. How's that for thinking about you.

He put his hand out as if motioning me to calm down: Woah dolly, don't let me ruffle your feathers.

Oh, but he was and I couldn't hold back the frustration anymore. I turned a cheek and closed my eyes letting out a long sigh. I would not let myself angry cry in front of this jerk.

He stopped for a moment and grabbed my wrist as I waved him away: Now just a minute, June.. I was kidding with ya. I wasn't tryin' to hurt your feelings..

My voice cracked as I quietly said; Just go away, Danny. I mean it, would you just leave me alone.

He turned and scratched his head: Screwin' up is all I seem good at these days...

He looked back at me, his eyes were such a light green with the sunlight shining in them: I know it means nothin' but I'm sorry for the other night. Chuckin' that cigarette butt at you wasn't right and I'm sorry.

He walked away and I didn't say a word. I hated him and his apology meant nothing to me.

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

2023 Megaman Summer Fanart Contest Results!

I have no time to whip up a new results post image, but oddly enough I have a dorky 16-year-old drawing I can crop, that somewhat technically covers both themes, in some respect. Go figure.

Thank you to everyone for your patience waiting for this post! Sorry, just have felt a little lacking in focus and energy to finish this until now. As usual, the top 3 who placed will be announced first, followed by the remaining entries in alphabetical order by alias. As an added surprise, I'm also throwing in a bonus runner up mystery winner position, since there were no raffle prizes or anything extra I threw in this summer. They will get the same cash prize as our third place winners. Winners will be contacted soon!

Without further ado, after the break, here are your winners and galleries full of art!

CATEGORY 1:  The Sand-ly Cup Playoffs (Talent)

For the talent category this year, participants were to draw a sand-themed Megaman character taking part in or ruining a beach sport event.

After each entrant’s name, there will be a link to the entry, too, just in case the inserted images don’t load for you. In the interest of not breaking your browser with the usual super-scrollingly-long post, entries consisting of more than 2 images will only have 1 embedded into this post, with links to each page separately.

[Full Cat. 1 gallery]

1.) Daidairo (@aurantia-ignis): [Entry] ($150 USD prize)

Beautifully drawn, with so much going on to draw my eye towards! You've got Desertman not only helping his own teammate out by giving him a boost to spike the Met volleyball, but also firmly gripping Blues from moving with his legs covered in sand. Love all the other cameos in the background, with everyone being so active and enjoying the summer day.

2.) Kaitlin.EXE: [Entry] ($75 USD prize)

In a summer full of surprises, it was a joy to see your art for the first time in a long while! If X DiVE had sadly not been phased out this summer, this would have been a set of skins/new summer characters I know a lot of people surely wanted, with a fun new boss alt design. Finding treasures buried at the beach definitely fit's Scaravich's profile, and his little striped swimsuit armor and diving attire gave me a good laugh, plus looks just perfect for him. The boys all have unique swimwear that fits them great, individually!

3.) @nightopianfoxgirl: [Entry] ($50 USD prize)

Wait...Higsby died? This news ticker sure did take a dark turn at the end! Unless Anubis can use his nanomachines to bring him back and all. Amusing twist turning Anubis' staff into a microphone as he roleplays as Ribbita here. Meanwhile, Iceman, Bubbleman and Aquaman are drowning in the larger size uniforms somewhere. A little humor and a little fanservice mixed in to an overall crisply-drawn & colored piece!

*Bonus mystery runner up random prize!*

Tori: [Entry] ($50 USD prize)

Those pair of Sasoreenu may have spikey drill tails, but Roll and Kalinka are strong enough to power through them! In fact, I think Roll is the one who is going to spike first, and it will be game-set-match for those scorpion bots! Great job, Tori!

Another surprise this year was this being an entry from the youngest participant I've ever had submit something, to go along with being the first ever time a parent and their child have both submitted an entry into the same contest! Good to know the current generation is being brought up as Megaman fans!

And the remaining wonderful entries, in alphabetical order by alias:

@dahlia-the-nurd: [Entry]

Solar frisbee versus sawblade frisbee, who's better at chuckin' those things the farthest? I'll go with the guy who sticks his finger up claiming to be #1. Until a time stopping duo decides to mess with them both a little bit, and neither fly very far... XD

Dr. Fresh: [Entry]

Doc Cossack and all his children enjoying some family fun on the sand. Love the variety having something different that they are all involved in. Bright Man's bulb having it's own 'sunglass' essentially is something clever and creative that I can't say I've seen anyone think of before!

@eulogysinger: [Entry]

Love the concept of the digital touchscreen photos sent for Megaman to browse through, and how you incorporated all the Secret Area Navis into enjoying a beach break. It's funny seeing Yamato's shogun helmet changed into a beachwear sun hat, but still fitting his design so well. Also loved his little foot soldiers getting in on the fun with Desertman; honestly all the scenes are cute and amusing!

@ingopotato: [Entry]

Looks like that sedimentary rock-themed Robot Master is about to be turned into... ...Sandstone.

*ahem* Sorry. Ground Man mucking things up and the look on Stoney's face amused me. Very crisp art, and good job at really making it look like the sand is blowing and kicking up behind both of the main sandsurfing RMs!

Mattasaurs: [Entry]

Mummira head is the perfect volleyball! Unfortunately, just as a decoy here, because bumping that one back over is not going to get you any points, Aile. That was certainly a very well-thought out creative choice in the composition, and I absolutely loved it. The proportions and angle really give a kind of neat fish-eye lens perspective in this piece, in some respects.

@pstart: [Entry]

Well, if the net is out of commission, maybe Volnutt can stake up a defeated Nakel on two poles and hit the Reaverbot eye over it! I can feel the heat with the main sunny yellow background, but also thought keeping the two background characters in a shaded grey was an interesting style choice that also makes them seem like they are in the shade.

__________________________________

CATEGORY 2:  Bae-liawatch (Humor)

For the humor category this year, participants were to draw their fave characters with at least one as a lifeguard, in iconic red swuimsuits/trunks, as an ode to the series Baywatch. Despite my category title, nobody took the bait and drew Alia as a lifeguard, however, rendering it moot.

[Full Cat. 2 gallery]

1.) @grammars-doodles : [Page 1] [Page 2] [Page 3] [Page 4] [Page 5] ($150 USD prize)

For main pun alone, your comic made me laugh the most! Baysquawks just works perfectly for this. XD Cute, fun, with a bunch of nice visual gags. Zack may have lived, but at the cost of poor Quacky Lacky lifeguard #3...

2.) @sylviidaee: [Entry] ($75 USD prize)

The contrast in art style between these two versions is amazing! From the painterly shading, proportions, to what is happening in the scene, the "Expectation" (emphasis on PEC, while looking at Gutsy's chest!) panel is just wonderfully drawn! I don't think I will ever be able to unsee Gutsman as a grinning John Cena muscleman. XD

3.) VCampan: [Entry] ($50 USD prize)

Points for the most literal pure parody of the theme, enabling the rare buddy comedy teamup of Sigma and X. Overall, characters and look matches up really well to the 2017 Baywatch movie poster, with plenty of little Megaman-themed tweaks, although I'm laughing at Zero in the CJ swimsuit/position. He looks thrilled to be put in that there! XD

*Bonus mystery runner up random prize!*

dmr: [Entry] ($50 USD prize)

So, viewer, you are saying, "If Ace is the lifeguard, why isn't he in red trunks like it says in the rules?" Well, obviously Kelvin is the actual lifeguard, but he got too distracted flirting with that hot babe to bother to pay attention to any issues going on in the water. Isn't that another thing lifeguards are known for, anyhow? So Ace is just pitching in. Wonderfully drawn, with a lot of movement and interaction through their poses. Great job on the water and splashy effects!

And the remaining wonderful entries, in alphabetical order by alias:

 AbilityField: [Entry]

Good thing Blues always wears multiple pairs of shades on his head that he never truly has to worry about losing them. I don't know if the same can be said for swim trunks, though...

@aw-colorcat: [Entry]

Ice Man in the ocean would probably make the water cold, but I think the water's even colder when Miss Splashy is inhabiting it, after that frigid reply to Bubs. XD Goes to show how just a simple short retort can bring a good laugh. Cute, and loved Ice Man's meme-worthy expression!

miralie: [Entry]

Miralie requested her entry to be censored a bit (as seen in the link above), to shield everyone from a glimpse at Sigma packin' his *ahem* um...Gunner Sigma. As a compromise, (with permission to post) I decided to edit in Zero spinwaving his way in front of the potentially offending bits and pieces. Or...ya know, maybe Sigma can spin Zero with his Junk-O. You be the judge. Granted, I didn't think your eyes needed to be shielded like Colonel is doing to Iris here, but sometimes it's OK to be like an overprotective older brother. Forgive her, Zero! She just wants to peek a little at the beach commander between Colonel's fingers. Because Miralie did draw him with quite the impressive physique, is all.

_______________________________

Once again, congrats to all the winners, and I will be contacting you about your prizes shortly. And thank you all so much for continuing to participate year after year, both regulars and newcomers! ‘Til next time!

[confusedmothboy]

who up chuckin they chil rn

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Interesting urban exploration of the property once known as Yankee Siege in Greenfield, New Hampshire, that was abandoned in 2010.

It was a Pumpkin Chuckin' attraction that was created by a farmer who watched a documentary about medieval weapons.

In a successful attempt to attract attention to his farm the owner displayed his catapult (trebuchet) that holds a record for launching a pumpkin over half a mile away.

However, they were still catapulting cars up until 2016.

It’s roughly 3 miles southeast from the center of Greenfield on Route # 31/Forest Road and is closed to the public during the winter months, with multiple “No Trespassing/Private Property” signs posted around the premises. It can, however, be viewed from the road.

For some reason, there are stairs in these towers.

The once active compound was the home of the famed trebuchet, a moat, and a target castle on a faraway hilltop.

It also has this giant mace sitting and rusting. 

I don’t know, it just seems sad when once-cool places like this close and are left to deteriorate. 

https://www.facebook.com/ExploreAtropolis

[chesedelhim]

my cule keeps tellin me that me and my siblings are on some crazy mountain folk shit for chuckin rocks at eachother as kids. also if you dont know how to play dodge rock it's pretty simple. you need a rock that's like, oblongish and rounded (no sharp points or corners) and fits pretty comfortably in your hand. but it cant be too small. you and your sibling stand like, far enough apart for an actual throw to take place but not o far as to make the rock be travelling at mach 5 when it reaches the other person. then one person throws a rock and the other tries to dodge the incoming rock. it's important that you aim in the torso area, rocks to the shins hurt bad and rocks to the face ruin the game. you get a point per rock dodged, you lose a point if you get hit, and whoever has the most points at the end wins.

[league-of-sam]

Catching A Ghost | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

Ghost x Reader

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Simon 'GHOST' Riley x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

Catching A Ghost: Masterlist

The minute you'd touched down in Chicago, Laswell had pulled you into her arms, and refused to let you go for a good 10 minutes.

You couldn't help but break down again, tears falling from your eyes as your mother figure held you.

"I killed him." you sobbed, holding her tighter.

"I know, my darling girl, it's alright, it's okay." she soothed you.

"He tried to kill me, mama."

"I know, honey, but he can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt any of you anymore."

You put your head down, sniffing as you looked at your feet, "I almost lost control again."

Laswell frowned, looking behind you to Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz. They all nodded, confirming your statement.

"But you didn't. Okay?" she took your face in her hands, "You didn't, you had control, and you realised it was slipping."

"I still killed him."

"That was the mission. You had your orders. Alright?"

You looked at her, her thumbs wiping away the last of your tears, and nodded.

The boys stood back, letting you have the moment.

But there was no time to waste.

Hassan was here, and with the final missile.

Getting back to a safe house, Laswell laid out the plans. She had found that the missile and Hassan had been seen with his AQ soldiers in a building in downtown Chicago, owned by the Las Almas cartel.

She believed that Hassan was being held in a fortified server room, on the 54th floor of the building. You, Soap, and Price were take a helo, landing on the building. Ghost was put on overwatch across the street, while Gaz was on the ground with the marines. 

While Gaz and his marines push up the building, you, Price and Soap were to push down, ready to pinch Hassan in the middle.

"Watcher-1 to Bravo-6 Actual. Perimeter is secure. We have a possible hit on the missile container. We're moving in now." Laswell said.

"Solid copy. All Bravo, move to set. We're on." Price replied.

You were sat in the helo, heart pounding and clutching your gun.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, stopping you from looking outside.

"You good, Boo?" Ghost's voice came as he shone his light at you from the other helo.

"Uh-huh, turns out jumping off that cliff back in Las Almas was not enough to cure my f-fear of height- oh fuck me-"

As you spoke, the helo turned off, separating from the other to get in position for landing.

Price reached over, squeezing your thigh, "You got this, love."

Whimpering, you nodded, "I hope you know I'm not fucking rappelling down that."

"Nah, they're chuckin' me down it instead." Soap laughed.

You forced a laugh as he helped you down from the helo, the three off you jogging to the wall and crouching down.

"Soap, hook up." Price said, gesturing to the lock on the wall.

"Ghost, we're all set, you have eyes on?" you spoke, holding onto the back of Soap's vest as he stood atop the wall.

"Affirm. Flashing now."

A small light on the roof of the building across from you shone, and you recognised the pattern to be Morse Code.

--. --- - / -.-- --- ..- / -... --- ---

Got you, Boo.

You smiled, giving a slight nod, knowing he had eyes on you.

"Copy visual, L.T. What've you got?" Soap asked.

"Civilians...hostages." 

"Hassan's buying time, we need to go, now."

With that, Price thumped Soap's shoulder, signalling for him to drop, and then took your hand, leading you into the building.

"Don't you dare fall of that building, sergeant." you said.

"Wha'do ya take me for, Reaper? I'm a smart boy."

"Can I offer one more piece of advice?" you snickered.

"Kinda sounds like you're goin' to regardless of what I say."

"Don't look down."

"Har-fuckin'-har."

You and Price sneakily made your way through the interior of the building, matching Soap's progress as he rappelled down from outside.

The building was eerily quiet, except for the constant yells of the AQ soldiers, their footsteps echoing through the hallways as they tried to prepare for your assault.

Squatting down behind a sofa, you readjusted your mask, mind focusing on the task.

"Ya with me, love?" Price said, looking at you from his position across the room.

"Affirm, Captain. No sign of enemies yet."

"I, uh, I just wanna let ya know how proud of you I am."

Your gaze softened - it had just been you and John for years, your parents having passed in a car accident when you were both just teens. He had already turned 18, but you were barely 14, and he knew he had to look after you. 

He gave up his first few years of his career to be there for you to finish school, so you weren't taken away.

Then, the second you turned 18, you followed him into war.

The Price siblings were forces to be reckoned with.

"Been a while since we were in the field together, huh?"

"Yeah, but now I know I don't need to look back for you, 'cause more than likely, you'll be ahead of me."

"Too right."

"You're an incredible soldier, Reaper. You have to know that."

You smiled, holding up your middle finger.

To others, it seemed like you were flipping each other off, but to you, it meant I love you. A special signal for the two of you that you'd made up during your cadet days.

Naturally, he returned it, and went back to his position on the far door.

"Bravo, we're clear on five-one." Ghost's voice came

"Price, all hostages are secure." Soap said next.

You took that as your cue to move to the window, placing the small pack of C4 onto the glass.

"Charge is set, get clear!" you said before blowing the switch.

The window breached, glass shooting everywhere in tiny, sparkling splinters. Seconds later, Soap was summersaulting through the hole, dropping right in front of you.

"You didn't fall off then?" you smiled, tapping his arm.

"You should really give me more credit." he smiled back at you.

Before anyone could say anything else, the building shook violently, and a rumble could be heard.

Soap had gripped your arm to keep you both steady, Price holding on to the desk next to him.

"Laswell, what the hell was that?" you said.

"The missile is active. It's in first stage. Be advised – controls are not in the container."

"Oh, bloody fucking hell!"

With a rush, the three of you were sprinting to the target area, now knowing Hassan had the controls. It was more imperative than ever to find him.

"We're pushing into the target area now. Out." Price spoke.

As Price and Soap flanked the door, you took stance in the middle, bringing your leg up with force, and kicking through.

You rolled into the room, tossing a flash bomb down the middle.

Soap and Price followed you in, guns raised.

You could hear the startled voices of several disorientated AQ soldiers, and then bullets bounced. The noise echoed through the metal of the servers surrounding you. You called out to your team for every man killed, keeping on top of the score before managing to get to the second room, where you did it all again.

"All stations, negative on Hassan, moving to control room now."

"Where the fuck is he?" you panted, reloading your weapon.

Soap dropped beside you, doing the same, "I dunno, pet, but I hope we find him soon."

Price led the way into the control room, only to come face to face with half a dozen armed guards.

"Shit! These guys are armoured up to fuck!" he yelled.

You smiled under the mask, tossing your gun to him, "Then this is a job for me, big brother...cover me!"

You didn't even give them chance to answer, tumbling into the room and tossing your knives, hitting the soldiers directly in the little bit of exposed flesh by their neck.

The bullets of your teammates downed the others around you, and in no time at all, you were at the other side, hand on hip as you waited on them.

"Fucking hell, Reaper. You are genuinely terrifying sometimes." Soap said, tossing your gun back to you.

"Didn't even get a scratch." You smirked.

Your expression dropped though, as the control room was completely empty.

"Fuck! He's not here." You ran a hand through your hair.

"Possible visual, forty-sixth floor." Ghost said.

"Copy, we're moving." Price replied and blew out a window.

Him and Soap roped up, tying themselves securely to the panes. They turned to you, giving you the same look.

"Oh no, oh no no- fuck no!" you said, backing away.

"C'mon, it's the quickest way down." Price begged.

"I fucking told you I'm not going that way!"

You were yelling now, hands flailing about to stop Soap from pulling you to the ledge.

"Be a good girl and get on that rope, Reaper."

"Suck my dick, Ghost."

"Last time I checked, ya didn't have one."

Your jaw dropped open.

Soap was trying not to laugh, and Price had a look on his face you'd only seen one other time – the time he caught you with a boy in your bedroom when you were 17.

Your face was burning red, and once again you were thankful for the mask hiding your expression.

Not daring to defy your brother anymore, your shaking legs took you over to the ledge, where you hooked up to Soap's rope.

Moving your arms to wrap tightly around his waist, he did the same, locking you to him.

"Watch those hands, MacTavish."

"Do ya want her alive, L.T.?"

"Soap I swear to God if you drop me, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

He smirked down at you, and with no warning, he jumped. You gasped, burying your face into his vest as he walked you both down. Once again you found yourself thankful of being surrounded by huge military men that you could cling to for dear life.

As you reached the floor in question, an RPG came out of nowhere, almost knocking you and Soap off the building.

You let out a scream, squeezing tighter as your legs slipped from around Soap's waist after the impact.

With panicked breathing, you were flung through another busted window, Price receiving you as Soap followed suit. The second you'd touched down, AQ soldiers poured out of every door and stairwell, shooting at you with relentless speed.

"All Bravo, be advised – Hassan is in the stairwell, he's moving down."

"Solid copy, Ghost! Gaz- he's headed your way!" you yelled, diving behind cover.

"Roger that, Reaper! We're on it."

Sound blasted from every corner as grenades blew, shooting debris and blood around the room.

It was complete carnage.

And finally, it stopped, and there was silence.

"To the stairwell!" Price yelled, and the three of you jumped up, running as fast as your legs would take you.

"Target cornered! Floor forty-six!" Gaz yelled through the radio.

"Copy, we're moving to ya!" Price replied, leading the way.

Smoke filled the stairwell where the AQ had obviously tried blowing it up, but you were able to pass to the floor in question.

"All stations! Missile is hot! I say again, the missile is launching!" Laswell cried.

"No no no!" the three of you cried, running to the window just as the missile blew past, a streak of yellow light in its wake.

"Watcher where's the target?" you asked, panicked.

"Unknown, we're working on it!"

"I'm going for Hassan."

With newfound determination, you checked over your weapon before stalking ahead, searching through the halls and rooms of the floor. Soap and Price were not far behind.

Walking into the open space of an office, you found Gaz and the marines in a gunfight with more AQ soldiers guarding Hassan. With the team together. They didn't stand a chance, and in no time, you'd managed to clear the room, and made a beeline for the doors.

You moved to use the snake cam that Price had shoved under the door, only for it to explode in your face, sending you all backwards in a bloody haze.

Gaz dragged you to safety, but not before you saw Price get shot as Hassan ran through.

"No!" you screamed, pulling yourself forward to grab him, "John? John! Oh f-fuck-"

Soap and Gaz helped you drag him to the other side.

"You broken?" Gaz said, holding Price up.

"I'm good- Go, Reaper, you got this."

You shook your head, tears in your eyes, "But you're-"

"Go!"

Nodding, you leapt into action as Price communicated events, Soap and Gaz right there with you.

You made it to the lifts, Hassan having already left in one of them.

"Hassan's in the last car, use the others to get down there." Gaz said.

You didn't say a word, jumping straight into the shaft, your fear of heights long forgotten after seeing your brother be shot in front of you.

Holding out your hand for Soap to join you, he went to grab it, only to falter when the lift started to creak and moan. Before you could do anything else, the lift fell from underneath you, and your fingers slipped from Soap's.

"(Y/N)! Oh fuck- no!" you heard his voice yell for you in your comms.

"Soap!" you screamed for him, arms trying to swipe at his before you dropped.

Catching up to the fallen lift, you hit it hard, your weapon sliding from your hands and down the shaft. Then, the other lift came crashing down, knocking into you, and bouncing you through the open top of Hassan's.

You hit the floor with an agonising thud, vision blurred and ears ringing.

Groaning, you looked up.

In your face was a man.

Hassan.

And he was clutching the controls.

[alternia-public-freakout]

ok 2o,, you know tho2e troll2 who have really 2mall lu2ii 2o they like carry them around everywhere?? u2ually highblood2?? i 2aw one get 2o pi22ed in public at 2ome random midblood who probably didn't do anything,, that after 2topping their yelling,, they 2tarted 2huffling around their bag,, GRAB THEIR FUCKING LU2U2 BY IT2 BACK,, and THROW IT WITH FULL FUCKING FORCE AT THE MIDBLOOD. the poor creature wa2 2pinning mid air becau2e of how hard it wa2 thrown,, and I'm pretty 2ure it would have died or at lea2t broken 2ome bone2 had the midblood not caught it with the mo2t pinpoint preci2ion ive ever 2een in my life

i wa2 in 2uch a 2tate of 2hock from what i ju2t witne22ed i could barely comprehend when the midblood looked back up at the highblood,, then the lu2u2,, then back at the highblood... And promptly bolted off with the other troll2 lu2u2 in their hand2. They obviou2ly werent gonna give it back,, but i got outta there before the highblood 2tarted to make a 2cene about it

( @invertedromance )

[f] I cAn’t EvEn ImAgInE jUst chUckIn’ my lUsUs at sOmEOnE lIkE thAt, I mEAn AdmIttEdly mInE Is fUckIn’ gIgAntIc, bUt thAt’s jUst strAIght Up dIsrEspEctfUl lmAO [f]

[daily-fantasy-ideas]

I feel like in most fantasy settings someone's inevitably gonna be decide/be forced to live and raise a family in an absolutely 100% haunted cursed evil location like a scary ancient decrepit tomb.

And by doing so any kids end up having are going to end up being cursed with something that makes them become evil messed up monsters.

But this also had me thinking, hey what if some kinda massively evil monstrous (morally not literally) villain type just start chuckin' babies (not literally) into an evil tomb to get a legion of scary monster children

[desudog]

I wish I had a vomit fetish instead I just have this weird detached fixation on its repulsion that makes me make a lot of posts along the lines of "throws up all over you" but I don't have one I just am enamored by the idea of just walking up to someone and chuckin

[thelastspeecher]

Modern Stanley McGucket AU - Nail Polishing

I'm not good at coming up with cute little titles for things, but I did my best! Here's a cute idea I got days ago but didn't have time/energy to write up until today. Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

              Stan strolled past the entryway to the kitchen, whistling idly.

              “Hey, Stan,” a voice said.  Stan stopped.  He looked over.  Angie was sitting at the kitchen table, which was cluttered with bottles of nail polish.  Her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on painting her fingernails.  Stan noted in amusement that Angie did the same thing when taking pictures with her prized vintage Polaroid.

              “Are you talkin’ to me again?” Stan asked.  Without looking up from her hand, Angie nodded.  “Already?”

              “Ya say that like ya want me to keep givin’ ya the cold shoulder,” Angie said idly.

              “No.  I’m just surprised you already forgive me.”

              “I never said I forgave ya.  I’m just willin’ to let ya back into my life.  That’s all.”

              “I’ll take it,” Stan said.  Angie’s look of concentration briefly broke into a small smile, before returning.  After he and Lute broke up Angie and her boyfriend, Max, she had refused to speak to either boy for weeks.  Eventually, she started to speak to Lute again, but not Stan.

              Not like I blame her for talking to Lute before me.  He’s her twin.  I get it.

              “I was also a bit surprised ‘cause you’re paintin’ your nails,” Stan remarked.  He leaned against the wall.  Angie looked up at him.  “You don’t really seem like the kinda gal to enjoy that stuff.”

              “She didn’t used to.  Then someone said it’d help with her nail-bitin’ habit,” Lute, who was rummaging through the pantry, remarked.  “Now she’s got nails what are chewed to the quick and have polish flakin’ off.”  Angie threw a cotton ball at Lute.  It hit the side of his head.  “Rude.”

              “Don’t air my dirty laundry like that!” Angie said, feigning indignance.  “Also, yer not one to talk ‘bout poor hand hygiene.  With those hangnail farms of yours.”  Lute stuck his tongue out at her.

              “Hang on, I thought when the nail polish starts flaking, people take off the rest of the polish,” Stan said.  Angie and Lute looked at him.  Stan shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable.  “My mom likes to do her nails.  I tried to drink the acetone when I was a kid and she told me what it was for.  After she told me to never drink somethin’ I didn’t recognize.”

              “Yes, most people use nail polish remover,” Lute said.  “Angie, however, prolongs the sufferin’ by refusin’ to do so and just waitin’ fer it all to flake off naturally.”

              “I have sensitive cuticles,” Angie mumbled, now painting her right pinky nail with a bubblegum pink polish.  “At least the farmwork makes the polish flake off faster.”

              “You have the ugliest nails I’ve ever seen fer someone who actively tries to make ‘em look good,” Lute said.  Angie threw another cotton ball at him.  He caught it.

              “Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll start chuckin’ polish.”

              “You wouldn’t risk losin’ any of yer collection.”

              “I wouldn’t mind if the cheap stuff I got fer Christmas from Uncle Basset mysteriously broke.”  Angie looked at Stan.  “Say, want me to paint yer nails?”  Stan broke into a cold sweat.

              “Uh…”

              “Don’t worry, I’ve got ‘manly’ colors,” Angie said.  She screwed the lid back on the polish she had finished using.  “I wouldn’t saddle ya with Barbie pink.”  She blew on her pinky nail to dry it faster.  “Unless ya wanted Barbie pink.  No judgement.”

              “Um.”

              “And if ya didn’t like it, I can take it off right away.”

              “I thought you didn’t have nail polish remover,” Stan said.

              “She does,” Lute interjected.  “She just don’t use it.”  Angie blew a raspberry at him.  “I’m just tellin’ the truth.”  Angie rolled her eyes, then turned back to Stan.

              “If ya don’t want to, it’s okay,” she said gently.  “I understand.  Just thought I’d offer, that’s all.”  Stan swallowed nervously.

              This is the first time in ages Angie even wants to be in the same room as me.  If I turn her down, am I gonna be back at square one?  Sure, she says she’s fine with it, but can I really risk it?  Angie raised an eyebrow.  Stan’s stomach churned.  Just thinkin’ about painting my nails shouldn’t make me feel like I’m gonna throw up.  Why does it?  Who am I worried about seein’ me with nail polish?  Pops?  He ain’t here.  It’s just Angie and Lute.  And they don’t give a shit.

              “…Sure,” Stan managed.  Angie’s face immediately lit up.

              Yep.  Definitely made the right decision.  Stan walked over to the kitchen table and sat across from Angie.  She moved aside her bottles of nail polish, beaming.  And be honest, Stan.  You’ve always sorta wanted to paint your nails.

              “Okay, so, first, what color do ya want?” Angie chirped.  Stan looked at her selection.  He picked out a dark red.  “Ooh, good choice!”

              “Do I need to pick a second one?” Stan asked.

              “If ya want to do an accent nail, yes.”

              “A what?”  In lieu of an answer, Angie laid her hands flat on the table, palms down.  Stan could now see that while most of her fingernails had been painted a solid bubblegum pink, her ring fingers had somewhat wobbly stripes of yellow and white.  The stripes on her right hand were particularly messy, likely due to painting with her non-dominant hand.  “It’s just when one nail is a different design than the others?”

              “Yep.”

              “Does it have to be the ring finger?”

              “That’s what the accent nail usually is, but it could be any finger.”

              “I want it to be my middle finger,” Stan said firmly.  Angie sighed.  Lute snorted.

              “Ya walked right into that one, sis.”

              “Shut up.”

              “How about that color?” Stan said, pointing to a gold polish.  Angie nodded.

              “Do ya want yer accent nail to be a solid color or a pattern?” she asked.

              “Pattern.”

              “What pattern?”

              “Whatever’s easiest.”

              “Polka dots it is, then.”  Angie patted the table.  “Lay yer hands down fer me please.”  Stan obediently laid his hands palm down, spreading his fingers wide.  “Wow, you’ve got really good nails!”

              “…I do?”

              “Yeah!”  Angie opened the lid of the dark red polish.  “At least, they’re good in comparison to the nails I normally paint.  Which are mine ‘n Lute’s.”

              “By the way, once Stan’s done, mind paintin’ mine?” Lute asked.  Angie glared at him.  “I’ll buy ya a new polish next time we go to town.”

              “Deal.”  Angie began to paint Stan’s thumbnail.  Stan couldn’t help but stare as the polish covered his thumbnail, then his index finger, then his ring finger, and finally his pinky.  “It’s cool watchin’ yer nails get painted, ain’t it?”

              “That’s why I like havin’ Angie paint m’ nails,” Lute chimed in.  He had finally found a snack and was sitting on the counter while he ate, watching Angie paint Stan’s nails.  “It’s like one of them stim things or whatever.”  Angie capped the red polish, then uncapped the gold polish.  She painted the nail of Stan’s middle finger.  She then recapped the gold and uncapped the red again.  When she moved towards Stan’s other hand, Stan spoke.

              “I thought you were gonna do polka dots.”

              “I got to let the gold dry first.  Otherwise it’ll smear,” Angie said briskly.

              “All right, all right.  You’re the boss.”

              “Darn tootin’ I am.”  Angie painted the nails of Stan’s other hand, once again sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.  After finishing with the red, she checked whether the gold polish was dry.  When it was, she carefully applied small dots on top of the gold.

              Before Stan knew what had happened, his nails were fully painted and Angie was smiling proudly.  He reached to scratch his nose.

              “No!” Angie and Lute shouted.  Stan froze.

              “Yer nails ain’t completely dry yet,” Angie scolded.  “Don’t touch anything until they are.”

              “And then I can scratch the mosquito bite I got two days ago?”

              “Sure.  I don’t use top coats, so we’re done.”

              “‘Top coats’?”

              “A clear layer of polish on top to protect the colorful polish,” Lute said.  “Proper nail artists use ‘em.  But Angie don’t.”

              “If I did, then the polish would take forever to flake off!”

              “Again, nail polish remover.”

              “Get yer butt over here to get yer nails done ‘fore I change my mind.”

              “Sounds good to me!”  Lute hopped off the counter and took a seat next to Stan.  “I’m thinkin’ we’ll go with silver today,” he said cheerfully.  He laid his hands in front of Angie.

              “All right.”  Angie grabbed a silver polish.  As she began to paint Lute’s nails, she glanced over at Stan.  “Do ya like it, Stan?”  Stan looked down at his nails.

              Okay, I did this just to make sure I didn’t piss Angie off again, but it kinda rules.  A slow smile spread across his face.  It doesn’t hurt that Pops would have a heart attack if he saw my hands right now.

              “Yeah.  I do.”

              “Really?!” Angie said eagerly.  Stan looked at her, now smiling broadly.

              “Yeah.  And I’ve already decided I wanna do stripes next time.”