#can’tbreath

[uncrownedwords]

If my head could pound any louder I would swear it was a door, baring an intruder on the other side. Calling themselves temptation while hiding the knife of intrusive thoughts behind their back with a convincing smile.

07|28|2023|00:50

[hollywoodsargeant]

literally who runs the official duracell social media bc they are liking my logan sargeant tiktok edits

[alburnusgecko]

Ok, I think it’s as done as it’s going to get for now, so here’s gecko’s first journal entry! They’re really going through it in this one tbh (there will be worse in the future, but this one is fairly graphic) sorry if any of the writing’s weird, it’s not something I do often at all!

tw: blood, vomit, pain, choking/asphyxiation, a bit of swearing, some suicidal ideation (vaguely), and please tell me if there’s anything else you think should be mentioned here!

November 9, 2024

Entry written on a small notepad, once long forgotten in somebody’s vest pocket, now in an undisclosed hiding spot in one of the esc basements

—

I don’t know how I’m alive right now. I don’t think I’m supposed to be. Everything feels so, so wrong, I don’t think they should have saved me 

But they did. They saved me so I must be alive for a reason, I hope there’s a reason

I need to write down what happened, I think. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, my head hurts like it’s going to split open and there’s so much blood, I can’tbreathe

[the writing cuts off sharply and there are specks of blood on the paper, smeared like somebody tried to wipe them off. When the writing resumes, it is in a much clearer hand than the first few lines]

Everything felt so slow, at first. Then everything hurt. My skin, muscles, nerves and bones all felt like they were being stabbed by hundreds of needles, like they were being injected with acid. It felt like I was being crushed, like I had no real form, it was all just pain, I couldn’t breathe at all

There was something in me, in my throat, lungs, even in my sinuses. I know they were helping, they were saving me but I didn’t know it then, all I knew was panic and pain and the mud that made me slip and writhe like a crushed worm and I couldn’t move, breathe and it burned and I was dead, I was going to die -

After what felt like forever, I was able to roll onto my side. It felt like my insides were being flushed with bleach as I coughed them up, my whole body heaving until I spat them out in a mess of bile and blood. It felt like an almost unbearable amount of time until I could finally stop choking and just lay there, letting my body take its first rough and bloody breaths.

I eventually could feel my body through the burning, scalpel sharp pain. It was.. wrong. My heart was too slow. The limbs were in the wrong places, I was too small, too thin. Shaped wrong. My teeth didn’t sit right in my jaw. It felt like my body had been twisted and reshaped into something it shouldn’t be - cold, weak and unnatural.

I moved wrong, so fucking wrong as I scrambled out of the mud. Eventually I opened my eyes.

It was bright out. Everything looked fake, somehow. Or maybe too real. I could see the blood and vomit glistening in the mud beneath where I was sprawled, the light catching it in a way I don’t think I was ever supposed to see.

 I could see them, too. The thing that had been choking me. Small, dark, pulsing like a muscle. Sick and wet and disgusting. I reached for them though, so fast that I almost fell back in. I don’t know why. I think they reached for me too.

I’m here now. I found this notepad in my pocket, It’s not the best but it still works for what I need it for. Thought it might be good to have some sort of record that I exist, even if it probably won’t be for long.

They’re still with me, clinging to my hand as I write. They seem a lot smaller when they aren’t strangling me from the inside, and they’re warm and they can move. They’re disgusting. I wonder if they’re a part of me. I don’t think they are but I really don’t know anything, do I? I don’t know why I’m here, why I’m alive, what I am.

I found a path a bit ago, I think if I follow it I might find something. I have to find something, before I change my mind and go back.

[confuzzled-symphony]

feelnauseous can’tbreathe badperson

[asklittlesnot]

I'm so sorry, little angel, but my patience is reaching it's limit...

Those little friends of yours are making this task much more harder than it's supposed to be, so i have no option than to take some risks and quick, drastic measures...

I hope you already packed your things and said goodbye to your so called "friends", because you're coming with me to a place where you can be safe from all the danger and bad influences.

But don't you worry, little one! Because your friends won't miss you a bit, i will make sure of it.

The "phoenix powers" can wait, in the meantime, i will help you remember me, and love me as much as you loved me before~

Now, let's go.

Drastic measures?

he’s gonna kill them all

DON’T PLEASE!

I’ll… I-

breathebreathestrugglebreathe

Please don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever just promise you won’t hurt them.

please…

can’tbreathe

i just want to keep them safe.

i love you all so much

i love you David Shaw

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 36: Mr. and Mrs

Summary: As promised… newlywed fluff

Read on AO3

Read on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 36: Mr. and Mrs.

***

Claire was insatiable. The wee thing was on him every second of every day. She would do everything from pouncing on him when he unsuspectingly rounded a corner to jumping into the shower with him. Jamie was obsessed with it, certainly. He was completely besotted and happy to be under her enchantment. Still, he wasn’t always sure he could keep up with her. 

It wasn’t even just the usual or expected touches either. Just when Jamie would begin to forget how strange his lass was— arrogantly thinking he knew her inside and out— she would go on being her quirky self in ways that took him by surprise. 

One such example was the strange but endearing behavior that took place one cozy Saturday…

Jamie was sat on the couch while Claire was tried to wedge her way in directly behind him. Yes, indeed, she was trying to fit her body in the miniscule space between Jamie’s back and the back of the couch while the rest of the couch and numerous chairs— even Jamie’s lap, for crying out loud— were perfectly unoccupied. 

“Claire, mo ghraidh...” Jamie chuckled as he was pushed forward by her body as she worked on wedging herself behind him, “what are ye doin’?” 

“I’m trying to cuddle you, if you’d be so kind as to move forward a bit,” she huffed, struggling in her endeavor. 

“Ye’re half my size and ye want me sittin’ in yer lap?” he laughed. 

“Not in my lap. I don’t have a wish for my legs to be crushed, thank you very much. I just wanted to sit behind you so I could hold you for a bit.” Her voice was strained with the effort of her trying, and failing, to push him forward to give herself enough space to fit. 

But Jamie was having too much fun to simply end it and scooch himself up like she wanted. 

“Any particular reason why ye’re tryin’ so hard tae cuddle me, wee one?” he asked. 

He could feel Claire shooting daggers at the back of his neck as she pushed against his uncooperating shoulders. 

“Well, I like it so much when you come up behind me and hold me that I was trying to be nice, but if you’re going to be stubborn about it...” 

Jamie laughed again and decided he’d better give her the space she needed to fit behind him before she gave up and left him alone altogether. He couldn’t have that. 

Claire gave out a sigh of satisfaction as he moved forward enough for her to slide behind him. As she began to settle in, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms came around his shoulders, and the front of her body pressed flush down the length of his back. 

The cherry on top was when she began pressing kisses to the sensitive spot just behind his ear. 

“Well…” he said, trying not to let on how much her kisses were affecting him, but his voice still came out breathless, “is it everythin’ ye imagined?” 

She hummed against him, nuzzling her nose against the shell of his ear in a way that made his stomach tie itself into knots. 

“It’s nice enough. A little cramped perhaps, but I like having you in my arms.” 

“It was verra thoughtful of ye to offer to be the big spoon, sweet one,” Jamie chuckled, “but I think there are a few flaws in this plan of yers.” 

He could tell he was riling her up. Her body went tense at his words, preparing for a battle. Jamie was torn between tenderness and playfulness— because truly it was terribly adorable that she wanted to do this for him— but he couldn’t resist the temptation to play with her. Now the die had been cast, and his words had alerted her to his feistiness… or maybe it was that she could sense his plotting. Damn empath. 

“What might those be?” she asked warily. 

“Well,” he began, keeping his voice very matter-of-fact, “there’s a few logistical issues. The first being that I’m twice yer size and it would be so easy for me to accidentally crush ye like a wee bug.” 

As soon as the words had left his mouth, he let his body sag back against her as a dead weight. He crushed her down against the couch, and she let out a squeal. 

“Jamie!” she yelped, her voice muffled where her mouth was pressed against his back as a result of her predicament, “ge’off!”

“The second issue is that the couch isna exactly the ideal spot. This kind of cuddling requires space, ye ken.” Even though she couldn’t see him, Jamie tapped his finger against his chin as if thinking hard, enjoying himself immensely. “Perhaps if ye cared to try the bed instead?” 

Her hands— which had previously been wrapped around his shoulders in a loving embrace— were smacking at his chest now, no hint of soft affection from a moment before. 

“Lemmeup,” came her smothered cry, “can’tbreathe!” 

Smirking to himself, he leaned forward, releasing her. 

“What was that?” he asked cheekily over his shoulder. 

“Ye bloody bastard,” Claire was cursing as she struggled out from behind him. Her knees jabbed him in the ribs as she tried to unwrap her legs from his waist to get them back underneath herself enough to escape. 

When she’d finally wrigged out from behind him, she popped out by his side and gave him a death glare. 

“You’re a brute,” she pouted, glaring over at him with dark eyes.

“And ye married me. Ye canna take it back now,” Jamie said cheerily, answering her glower with a beam. 

She crossed her arms, looking very much like a toddler who hadn’t gotten her way. Her lower lip was pushed out in a pout, and Jamie could barely smother the rising urge to kiss it. 

“Just because I’m stuck with you doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.” 

Jamie gave a playfully gesture of being shot in the heart. “Ah, mo nighean donn, ye wound me so.” 

“And you crush me when I’m trying to hold you,” she shot back. 

“Aww, I’m sorry, lass. Come ‘ere, I’ll make it up to ye.” Jamie opened his arms to her, his voice dripping with played up regret. 

Claire stood abruptly, shooting him a smirk over her shoulder. 

“I think I’ll go cuddle with Adso, thank you very much. Maybe then you’ll learn to appreciate what you have.” 

“That’s yer choice…” Jamie dropped his voice to sound serious, “oh, and Claire? One other thing?” 

She stopped in her tracks, turning back to him with a suspicion written clear over her face. 

“What?” 

Jamie stood, looking down at his fingers where he was playing with them in feigned innocence, “there was one more flaw in your plan.” 

“What’s that?” 

She took a step back, already suspecting his misbehavior. 

“I like bein’ the one to hold you far too much.” 

He lunged forward, grabbed her around the waist with both hands and tugging her body against him all in one smooth movement. She was giggling as he did, struggling playfully as he wrestled her to him and held her captive at his front. He walked them both backward until the back of his knees hit the couch and he was able to sit down, bringing Claire down along with him. 

In order to secure her in his lap as she tried to wriggle free, he tightened his arms around her middle, trapping hers underneath. He grinned into her hair, squeezing her. 

“Much better,” he said. 

He pressed kisses down the side of her neck, letting out little hums into the skin until her struggling stopped and Claire went still. Curious to see what she would do, Jamie loosened his arms around her. Not enough to let her get up, but enough so she could maneuver a bit. 

It turned out that what she wanted to do was turn and face him. She shifted within his hold so she straddled him, and the moment they were face-to-face, Jamie would see that her expression had grown soft and her eyes had that far away look in them that they got when she was particularly infatuated. 

“This is rather nice,” she admitted in a murmur as she leaned in to press a kiss to his jaw. Then another. 

Jamie nearly laughed out loud. 

His wee faerie. So predictable. She couldn’t resist him holding her any more than Adso could resist the smell of tuna. 

Her kisses were growing more insistent now, beginning to turn heated in a way that was sure to scramble Jamie’s wits at any second. 

“So ye dinna regret marryin’ this brute after all?” Jamie asked, trying to keep up the show and keep his voice steady in the face of the magic of her lips. 

She pulled back, making Jamie’s skin tingle in her absence. “Maybe not so much…” she relented, “I suppose you win this one, Mr. Fraser.” 

“Victory is sweet, Mrs. Fraser.” 

***

Next

[set-phasers-to-whump]

breathe in breathe out

Prompt: delayed drowning

Whumpee: Nick Burkhardt

Fandom: Grimm

hey folks what’s up!!! brief fun announcement from me i finally got my drivers license today (only about two years late but shh) and i’m very happy ab that!!! anyway i hope that you enjoy this fic, it’s set right after the events of la llorona  and i did a Lot of research about delayed drowning for it!! (did you know that they no longer refer to it as things like ‘dry drowning’ or ‘secondary drowning’? i did not you learn new things every day up in here) anyway yeah i hope you like this fic!!!

They’re both fairly exhausted after the day they’ve had. Teaming up with a not-really-FBI agent to find a murderer, learning that ghosts might actually be real, saving the lives of three kids, and losing their would-be killer tended to do that to people. But it’s Halloween (sort of), and the both of them could do with a little winding down and trying to make sense of the events of the day. 

So they’re in Hank’s living room, talking about ghosts while a scary movie plays on the TV, muted. There’s a small bowl of Halloween candy on the table in front of them, and Hank is eating a kitkat. Nick is decidedly not hungry - his throat feels sore, which he supposes is a byproduct of his time in the river. 

He coughs, suddenly, startling Hank, who drops his candy. “You good?” he asks, and Nick nods. 

“Probably just a leftover from-” he starts, but cuts himself off with another harsh cough, and then another.

“You’re sure?” Hank asks. “Those don’t sound good. Do you feel sick?”

Nick waves him off. “I’m fine,” he says, and reaches for his glass of water. He takes a sip, hoping to calm the coughing, but instead nearly chokes on it, and feels, briefly, like he’s back in the river, fighting la llorona, watching her slip away…

And then the feeling fades, and he feels Hank thump him on the back. “I’m good, I’m good,” he assures him, discarding his glass in favor of putting his hands on his knees and taking a deep breath. 

“I don’t know, man,” Hank says. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Hank,” Nick insists. “Probably just swallowed some water earlier.”

Hank doesn’t look convinced, but he stops talking about it, and Nick settles back into the couch, leaning his head against the cushion. He blinks and feels his eyes fight to remain closed. He checks the time - nearly one a.m.

“I think I should head home,” he says to Hank, who turns away from the TV and looks at him.

“You alright to drive?” he asks. “You don’t look too great.”

“I’m fine,” Nick says, for the hundredth time. “Really, I promise.”

He yawns, and once again feels his eyes slip closed for longer than they should. On the other hand, maybe he’d just fall asleep right here...Hank wouldn’t mind, right?

He decides that the answer to that question is no, and brings his legs up onto the couch, curling up as best as he can in the small space. 

“Hey, what’re you-” Hank starts, but he stops upon seeing that Nick has already fallen asleep. He sighs, muttering about how Nick better not get any dirt from his shoes on his couch. 

He doesn’t mind, though, really. Especially when he takes a good long look at Nick’s sleeping face - though being asleep has lessened the effect slightly, it’s clear Nick is absolutely exhausted. His face is paler than it normally is, and there are marks under his eyes. He’s long since changed into dry clothes, but his hair is still damp, curling slightly against his forehead as it dries. Hank gives him a smile and locates a blanket to drape over him, then turns off the TV and the lights and heads to his own bed.

--

Nick wakes up an hour or so later with a burning pain in his chest. He tries to take a deep breath to get the pain to stop, but feels it catch in his throat. He breathes in again, and feels the same result. 

A panic starts welling up under his skin as he continues to struggle to breathe - his lungs are burning and there’s no air in his body and he’s dizzy because he cannot breathe. He tries to shout for help but chokes on the words, and then coughs, and then he’s coughing again, like before, only unlike before because he can’t stop. He keeps coughing without a breath in between, and every cough feels like it’s tearing its way out of his lungs and his throat, and he can taste the river on the back of his tongue, and he doesn’t know what this is or why it is happening and he still can’t breathe. 

He tries to stand up, knowing that he has to get somewhere, find someone, but the second his body leaves the couch he’s pitching forward and he’s still coughing and he thinks he is never going to stop, and then - 

Then there is a pair of arms wrapping around him, easing him to the floor, and he still can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’tbreathe, and he reaches out a desperate hand which wildly misses its mark. 

He hears, over the sound of his own coughing, Hank’s voice, and he is saying something but not to Nick. He can’t understand what it is Hank is saying, and he can’t see him, either - the force of each cough is making his eyes water so badly the world is nothing but a fuzzy blur, so he knows Hank is there, but he doesn’t know where and he can’t think or process what is happening, but he is afraid and he can’t stop coughing and his chest is on fire. He wants Hank, and tries his best to call out for him. 

And then Hank is there, and his hands are on Nick’s shoulders and he’s saying something to Nick this time, but Nick still can’t hear, still can’t see Hank beyond a vague smattering of colors and light. Cough after cough tears its way out of him and he reaches out a hand yet again. 

This time, it hits its mark, and Hank���s hand wraps around his own, steady and warm, and he says something against the side of Nick’s head which Nick still can’t hear, and then Nick is aware that he is being moved, and then something thumps him in the chest and he coughs somehow even more harshly than before, and then his body instinctively turns to the side and he coughs up a small amount of water which burns horribly, and then he coughs a few more times, and then, all of a sudden, it stops. 

He takes a shallow breath, and then another. He feels himself being moved again, and something in his brain recognizes the motion - recovery position, he thinks, and then there is a hand between his shoulder blades and Hank’s voice, again, and Nick can actually hear him this time. 

“It’s okay, Nick, you’re okay,” he is saying, but he sounds scared, and Nick is scared, still unsure of what exactly had happened to him and why it had stopped and if it was going to start again. He feels himself start to cry, his eyes which had just been starting to clear up fogging over again, and he takes a shuddering breath that burns but doesn’t make him cough. He wants to ask what happened, but his throat feels like he’s swallowed a bucket of nails and crying is already aggravating it enough. 

He feels the hand leave his back then, and makes a completely involuntary noise at the loss of contact, feeling the pain in his throat spike. 

But just as quickly as it had left, the reassuring contact is back, in front of him this time. He feels Hank lie down next to him, feels a hand on his face, hears Hank say those words again: “You’re okay, Nick, it’s alright.” 

But it’s not alright, he is still scared and in pain and confused and so, so tired. His hand reaches out for the third time, and Hank knows exactly what it means, without Nick needing to say the words. He moves an arm to wrap around Nick’s body as best as he can in their current positions, and he pulls Nick gently towards himself. 

Nick leans his face into Hank’s shoulder, relaxes ever so slightly, and breathes.

hi idk if this was any good or not but i had a good time writing it!!! i am gonna be honest the stuff about whacking him in the chest is pure bs from me but i Wanted to include it so i did lmao. the rest of the stuff is pretty true to how delayed drowning happens tho!! its pretty wild like you can be fine for several hours and then boom. also i didn’t say this in the fic but dw hank was calling 911 and nick will be fine!!

[crimsonsheadache]

📱adam and evie

what was my muse’s 5 last sent texts to yours ?

[ evie ]: yo what the fuck was prof peterson even TALKING about today[ evie ]: newt and i are going to the diner. that’s an invite. so don’t act like a fomo bitch if i post something on my ig stories 🙄[ evie ]: you paid that much for something that ugly ? 😷[ evie ]: party at kappa[ evie ]: i may not show it 💯 but you rly be giving me brain damage tho 😶

what was my muses 5 last unsent texts to yours ?

[ evie ]: can u pick me up too fuckinf drunk rn[ evie ]: can’t. calling my mom tonight.[ evie ]: come over[ evie ]: i feel like i can’tbreathe and idk wehre i am[ evie ]: ykw??? nvm. go fuck yourself.

what was my muses last snapchat to yours ?

[ snapchat to adam 💀 ]: newt literally just ate 4 sandwiches, where are u

what my muse saved your number as ?

ugh 🙄

what contact photo my muse has set for yours ?

what ringtone my muse has set for yours ?

idfwy by big sean

how many times my muse has called yours this week ?

one.

how many calls has my muse missed from yours ?

none.

[stargate365]

[SG-1] 7.17: Heroes (1/2)

??? What is happening...?

Why is there a cameraman in the Briefing Room?

Hoo boy. He’s gonna be a pain, isn’t he. Oh no, Don’t bring the President into this. Not when George has his Red Phone.

Jack doesn’t have time for this shit. Sam is not happy with being mic’d. Sam doesn’t want a pedestal, you idiot.

Daniel is busy... and his pager is going off. Run Daniel, Run!! Run run run as fast as you can! Hehehe.

“Why were we running?” “Oh! Well... I just wanted to see if you’d chase me.” Lol. Daniel I love you, you little shit.

Hi Bill!! Oh dear... Sargeant are you going to be okay...?

Teal’c and his safety goggles.

The fire extinguisher! “It’s fine... see, he does that all the time.” :D

Oh... it’s Adam Baldwin... I love him. :D 

“Bosworth is disqualified for being a smart ass”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the little buggers to death.”

Lol. He got his ruins after all!! “I win!”

Daniel is just as confused with this line of questioning as I am.

Ohmygod. Teal’c’s pokerface. #Can’tBreathe

“Oh, Dr. Jackson is gonna die when he sees this. “What? Again?”

Colonel Dixon’s “I wouldn’t paint the room blue just yet” is telling. :D

Nerd running for his life, oh shit, what did you do bro?

Oh joy... why are we letting Kinsey on the show? He’s an asshat. Jack... Jack, I love you. It’s only slander if it isn’t true Kinsey. Jack isn’t going to vote for you...

*jack starts swearing* “UNSCHEDULED OFFWORLD ACTIVATION”

Oh, you did not just go there!!!

Jack is e s c a p i n g

Sam... Sam... you’re babbling... STAPH!

WALTER!! :D YOU ARE DOING AN AMAZING JOB!!

Ugh. Go away. Daniel is busy packing...

Ey! Sam is brilliant!! :D

“Uh-oh.” That’s never good....

Oh. Oh dear. EVACUATE! NOW!

Oh hell. I think Wells is dead... Belinski, get your ass gone. 

Janet is not happy to be discussing Jack’s medical record... there’s no way Jack said yes to this.

Oh, okay, Wells is currently alive. That’s good. Bellinski looks beyond freaked out.

‘Grace Under Pressure’ is actually a very apt descriptior for Janet.

Janet very slyly bringing up how Cassie is an alien. :D

Daniel and Sam are blaming themselves... 

To be continued...

[pcrfide]

His days are no longer regular things.

Hours no longer regulated by the quick-flash of cameras and the hop-skip of public relations nightmares that creeped into his brain as he tried to route circles around them and shove them under rugs and around walls to keep Overwatch (and Blackwatch) breathing for just one more day.

Instead, now- they’re filled with the scent of plasma munitions again, and pulse fire. The sound of his own breath as he sprints down crumbling alleyways and over the edges of dead-ends. It’s the scent of blood- both his own and others’. The feeling of pain in his joints from overwork and overuse, in his knuckles and up his arm. 

The back of his neck and in his head from clawing and fighting out of nightmares and he can’t breathecan’tbreatheCAN’TBREATHE—

It’s the feeling of the sun trying to creep through the afternoon smog of whatever city he finds himself in- he usually forgets by the end of the day, coughing through either dust or pollution as it tears tiny claws into the frayed edges of his lungs. Sometimes he lucks up, and he winds up in smaller towns and hamlets where he can still see skies as blue as the ones in his childhood.

His days are no longer regular things, scheduled to the teeth with no room for variety- but he’d trade it all back, for just one more day.

And an apology. 

[ironsguilt]

@rebelpuff​ replied to your post “   i’m fucking cry laughign because i’m filling my queue w replies rn...”

https://66.media.tumblr.com/7eb7e6569dad8a183861462c378b2915/0607355ba089b890-88/s540x810/1c85d27d9cf9341c419accd03d894625ced4b71d.png

I CAN’TBREATH E HJDAGHSKJDKGLJDVHLHK

[prisoner-no-34]

A Poem from a prisoner...

#heartbreak #Can’tbreathe

[achieveintegrativehealth]

Got the C-COUGH? LOVE on your LEGS to stop the cough! #cough #asthma #bronchitis #can’tbreathe #acupuncture #achieveintegrativehealth #qraacupressure #acupuncutreguy https://www.instagram.com/p/CTP0BH1HxrM/?utm_medium=tumblr

[fightingevilhard]

I can’tbreathe

[theofficialpeanutgallery]

*wheezes* can’tbreathe hang on

I love Italy

“Did you know the Italians have 200 different words for pasta?”

[sugrmottas]

hahaha i go back to school tomorrow please fucking kill me i can’tbreathe