#i was legitimately wheezing at this part

[maribird444]

they’re my last two braincells at 3am

[mintycurry]

not me actually noting down the villa, that's a good travel recommendation ngl

[unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men]

So this came to me because I currently have a crummy crusty head cold and I feel like garbage, and I thought how would my favorite fictional characters act or what would they do if you had a cold or were sick. Enjoy!

Dean Winchester:

He’s always hated when you’re sick, even though you never say anything he can tell you don’t feel good

Catching you falling asleep, he’ll always scoop you up and bring you to your shared room, putting you under the covers.

He’ll go and grab some extra blankets in case you throw off the covers and then end up getting cold.

Getting some cozy soft socks and a soft fuzzy sleep eye mask he sets out some aspirin and various cold medication

Once you wake from your nap or are just lounging in bed, he’ll make you whatever you want to eat normally: grilled cheese and tomato soup or some chicken noodle soup.

Eventually he’ll join you in bed not caring that he could get sick himself, and if he does he knows you’ll be his sexy nurse

And he’ll always remember to buy plenty of ice cream (your favorite flavor of course) and pie so you can both share.

He will do anything to help you feel better, even reading that “slutty whore book” out loud, watching you smile as he reads a particularly filthy part. Smirking at you he tells you that when you’re feeling better it's time to re-enact some of these scenes.

Bucky Barnes

He was used to Steve being sick all the time when they were younger, but you were different. You always tried to be strong and not let on you were sick until you were super sick.

He would watch you trying to work and dozing off, your head would drop and then you would wake up looking miserable

Frowning he would walk over to you and carefully pick you up and carry you to you room, putting you in some soft and warm pajamas

He would take your temperature and if too warm would use his metal arm to cool you down, making sure to keep a heavy blanket nearby just in case.

Would cook you his Ma’s famous chicken noodle soup, he made it all the time for Steve and if he liked it so would you

Hearing your wheeze breath and your clogged nose made him think of Steve and he would always get some hot water and a towel to help clear your sinuses

If you had a cough he would get you the same cough syrup he would get for Steve amazed that they still made it, and would make sure you would take it

Baking cookies just because he knew they were your favorite, and hoping you can taste them.

Steve Rogers:

Hearing you cough or sneeze always brought back bad memories from pre serum times

He always heard the wheeze, cough, or sniffle first before you even knew you were sick, so he would stock up on supplies

Buying your favorite snacks, he would set everything up in your bedroom. He would make sure Tony would get all the streaming services so you could watch anything you wanted too.

Getting a nice hot bath together, he would use your favorite bubble bath, light your favorite candles and put on some of your favorite music

Buying you the softest, warmest pajamas he could find he also got some cooler clothes in case you got too warm

After the bath he would carry you to bed, watching you slide under the covers he sits on the bed and listens to your day until you trail off and fall asleep

He would pick up any prescriptions or any cold medication you would need, always double checking if you wanted anything else (snacks, ect) before coming home

Sometimes if you had trouble sleeping he would tell you stories about him and Bucky, silly things that happened, sometimes maybe serious things too.

Ransom Drysdale:

He wants you to stay far away with him, keeping your runny nose away from his trademark sweaters

Initially hearing you cough and sniff at night when trying to sleep annoys him, after the third night he feels bad for you and calls for a private doctor to check you out.

After finding out you're legitimately sick, he buys you a cashmere throw and has an actual masseuse come in to help you relax.

Setting up the guest house just for you to recover in, no expenses spared anything you need he gets no matter how outlandish or expensive.

He’ll cater in your favorite foods from anywhere, that gelato you loved? It’s flying in from Italy, that spicy ramen you had years ago? Just arrived still hot

Grabbing one of Harlan’s books he will sit with you in the guest house bedroom and read to you, but will deny it if you tell anyone, but enjoys seeing your reaction to the twist at the end.

He will make sure any type of medicine you need is yours. Pharmacy closed? Not anymore. Now its open 24/7

While he initially avoided you before he now knows you are really sick and demands you let him hold you, otherwise he just scowls at you.

[isa-ghost]

ok

*insert coin*

Can I ask for q!Phil hcs BUT when he's fully un Bird mode :D

Jokes on you that's easy, those are just more plain qPhil hcs for me >:D

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Sometimes if he's in a fight that he's not taking seriously he'll put some goofy ass music on in his headphones. Some favorites include the Mario invincibility star theme, Waltz of the Meatball Man, and the kind of bubbly anime ending music that plays over an emotionally devastating scene

After way too much stress, once he gets Chayanne & Lullah to bed and is on his own he'll go somewhere and just. Scream. For as long as it takes. And then he chugs tea or noodle broth to prevent his throat from dying on him.

Sleep schedules his beloathed <- wants to spend more time with a bunch of islanders he doesn't get to see often

Out of the 3 polycule members, Fit is best at cheering him up. He knows Phil best and the extent to which he lacks a filter sometimes is too powerful for Phil not to at least smile at

His wheeze laugh is the best thing ever to the the kids. If the two of them can make him wheeze, they know they've done their job right.

As soon as he knows something is safe (the maze, an event site like the code builds, that new mountain at old Spawn, etc) he's the first one to start exploring. He's been that way as long as he can remember ;)

*Slaps top of his head* This old man can fit so much survivor's guilt in him

He's only old in age and wisdom, if you try to imply he's geriatric he will get SO out of pocket about the things he's done with Fit & Etoiles and you will regret it

Okay so I've talked about how his worst fear is not having control, especially of himself. And I've talked about other fears of his, but I don't think I've mentioned his fear of loss yet. He tries to pretend he isn't, he'll insist he isn't, and to some degree he isn't Entirely wrong, but he is afraid. Being as old as he is means you get a bit desensitized to loss because it's natural when the things and people around you don't live for as long as you do. The part of it Phil fears, or maybe hates is a better word, is all the emotional turmoil after. That bone-deep ache of grief, the heaviness that refuses to leave his chest, how easy it is to emotionally compromise him, the hollowness that consumes him. The way he can't think or sleep properly, how his motivation is completely wiped out, how embarrassing it feels to not be at 100% in front of people. He HATES the aftermath of it all.

Excursions, Shuniji, and ofc Weirdest Year by C418 are Phil grief songs, in this essay I will

The Federation has learned that if they want Phil to attend an event he isn't particularly interested in, all they have to do is have really good food there, especially Latino food

He does legitimately gag a little when he kills a mob and flies or maggots come out of it. That's not just drama, he fr is like 🤢. It reminds him of the first time he saw Ender King's corpse

A fraction of the reason why he has people he trusts very deeply, like Fit, whitelisted on his security stuff is bc he knows if he ever got too depressed (like when the kids were missing), he'd never leave the house and just bum around feeling awful despite being restless. Having them whitelisted means they can get in and force him to get some air and stop festering in his emotions.

See I could get into a whole analysis abt this but like. So many of my angst hcs for him are abt how he's kinda shit at taking care of himself, esp when the people he cares for the most are removed from the equation. But it's not that he's incapable of it, he's not a baby or something like that. It's another part of how he's so locked into being the caretaker, the protector, the Strong One, the wise one, etc etc etc that he Hates being in the reversed role. He's gone so long without it that now it's foreign and unpleasant to him. He feels weak & like a burden. But at the same time, going so long without being in the reversed role is unhealthy and he NEEDS to be the one taken care of or protected sometimes. Everyone does. It's a double-edged sword: be the caretaker, shoulder everything & suffer OR be the one taken care of, feel awful about it for one reason or another. He can't win. He hates the latter but he needs it occasionally just like anyone else. He prefers the former, but the toll it takes over time is extensive.

It's why he'll do little things in an attempt to remedy it. To avoid being full-on taken care of for once while also not Only doing the reverse. Watching the sunset with the kids, adventuring in new and exciting places, sparring with friends, etc. His escape is making vivid fond memories to look back on and smile about, even if they don't always fix his emotional state. At least he isn't fully neglecting himself.

[outtoshatter]

Prompt 1: "It's not too late, let's go."

Fanfiction

Fandom: Teen Wolf | Sterek

Warnings: none | Rating: Teen & up

Trick or Treat or Trespass (also on ao3!)

“It’s not too late,” Stiles said. “Let’s go.” He held his hand out.

Derek squinted at him. “It’s two in the morning.”

“Perfect time. We’re too tired to second guess our decisions and you just said you wished you could.” His grin flashed, that wide, half-mad smile that Derek couldn’t resist.

“It’s too late,” he protested weakly. “They’re all closed.”

“How many times do you get to wish something and then make it come true?”

“You’re a little fixated on that,” he complained. “I was just talking.” He allowed him to pull him off the couch anyway. “None of them open until noon, judging starts at eleven.”

Stiles’s grin widened. “We’ll find some.” He had his phone out already, tapping away. “See, the Kimbers farm still has pumpkins left.”

“They’re closed,” he insisted.

Stiles tossed him a jacket. “So?” He shoved his feet in his shoes without bothering to untie them, making Derek wince, and grabbed his keys and a dark blue hoodie.

Derek got in the car, if only to stop him from hurting himself, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stop Stiles or see what he thought he was going to do about their pumpkin problem.

It wasn’t that important.

He looked up. “Stiles…”

Derek just wanted to make an effort to be part of the community—not the weirdo shut-in—for once. He was friendly with most of his neighbors, they exchanged recipes and baked goods sometimes, and now there was this, a community jack-o-lantern contest. Time had slipped away from him, and now it was the 30th—technically the small hours of the 31st—and he had no pumpkins at all, carved or otherwise.

He’d been dozing when he muttered his wish, more a complaint than anything. He should have known Stiles wouldn’t leave it alone.

He parked under a group of trees at the very end of a gravel lot and pulled his hood up. “You can wait in the car,” he offered, that grin flashing again.

In the dark with only the weak light of the moon to illuminate him, he looked devilish, just for a moment, and then he was himself again, mischievous but human. He got out while Derek was trying to find words. The back opened, and Stiles dragged the wagon out of the cargo space.

Derek scrambled out. “How many do you think you’re getting?”

Stiles pressed a hand to his heart. “I was going to leave money to cover it, what do you take me for?”

“As many as I can carry.”

Derek scoffed. “What did the Kimbers ever do to you?”

Derek didn’t really buy it until he added, “Now, if it was Walmart, I wouldn’t bother, but they ran out of pumpkins yesterday.”

He pulled the wagon, then stopped when the wheels made too much noise in the gravel. He glanced at Derek. “Gonna turn me in?”

He sighed.

They stole into the pumpkin patch quite easily—the only fence was a low wall of hay bales more for looks than security. Derek kept his head down and hood pulled up, sure that there were cameras on them. There was a table by the entrance, probably where people paid for their pumpkins.

Derek’s heart pounded with both panic—they could legitimately get arrested for this, and what was he supposed to say to John when that happened?—and exhilaration that he couldn’t repress. He shook his head while Stiles checked over the options and wandered to the table. He chose one of the tiny pumpkins and used it to pin some cash to the table. He was positive he overpaid, but he considered it an after-hours fee.

Something rustled.

His head snapped up. He scanned the area around them, but there was nothing. Just them, the pumpkins, and, some distance away, the farmhouse.

Stiles giggled to himself, making him jump.

“Shh!”

He waved his hands, but he couldn’t stop the high, sort of giddy laughter he never could contain. “Let’s go,” he wheezed, dragging the wagon behind him. There were five pumpkins of various sizes piled inside.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Go open the trunk and start the car,” he whispered.

Stiles’s eyes lit. He fist pumped, then ran for the car.

Derek waited, head lowered, to give him time to get to the car. He lifted the wagon. The pumpkins were dense and even for him it was heavy, and the wagon’s shape was not made to be carried. He all but ran for the car.

Stiles was jittering around in the driver’s seat while he deposited the pumpkins and wagon, twisting around, drumming his fingers, and chewing his lips.

Derek closed the trunk and jumped into the passenger seat. “You better hope they don’t call the cops,” he hissed. “How will we explain to your dad?”

“We left money!”

“We were trespassing.”

“Pshaw.” Stiles backed out of the lot with the headlights off, and didn’t turn them on until they were back on the road. He reached over to squeeze his knee. “You’ll forget all about the trespassing and theft when we’re carving.”

Derek was never going to forget tonight, but not for the crimes.

They snuck their loot into the house like a couple of teenagers out past curfew. Stiles gleefully snapped out a plastic tablecloth and spread some newspapers on the kitchen floor while Derek dug out the carving tools he’d optimistically bought in late September.

The carving process was…long. The bowls filled with seeds and guts, Stiles became delirious and giddy and sloppy from lack of sleep, and the kitchen smelled like damp pumpkins. By dawn, Derek was feeling out of it himself.

“Just one left,” Stiles said, spreading pulp between his fingers and hands like spider webs. He held it out to Derek, then laughed wildly at whatever expression he made.

He turned the last, gutted pumpkin around so he could see what stencil Stiles had put on it. The paper was pasted to the front from the sticky pumpkin juice. He snorted. “Really?”

“Think you don’t have the skills?” He smirked.

“I can carve this.”

“Okay…” He was very obviously trying to goad him; the annoying part was that it was working.

Derek blamed sleep deprivation.

By eight AM, sunlight was streaming bright and strong into their kitchen. Stiles was slumped against Derek’s back, snoring gently into his shoulder. Derek’s fingers were cramping. He dropped the carving tool and flexed his hand, admiring his work

.He moved his shoulder. “Stiles.”

He groaned. “No…”

“Stiles.” He shrugged again, jostling him. “I finished.”

There was a snuffle against his shoulder, then a noisy yawn. “You huh?”

“Finished the pumpkin.”

Stiles scrambled then, arms wheeling and legs kicking as his tired brain tried to get all of his limbs moving together. He gaped at the Wolf Man pumpkin. “Oh, that is the best one.” He reached for it, then stopped, staring aghast at the dried pumpkin stuck to his hands.

Derek looked around their kitchen with dawning horror, realizing for the first time what a mess they had made. There were pumpkin guts on the lower cabinets. On the floor. On the fridge.

Stiles reached out and peeled some off of Derek’s cheek. He laughed softly and took his face between his palms, pulling him in for a sweet, sleepy kiss. “You go shower. I’ll clean this up.”

“There’s too much,” he said with a tinge of hysteria. “You haven’t slept. We haven’t slept and it’s on the cabinets-”

Stiles kissed him again. “Go shower and I’ll get started. Can’t make progress if we panic and never start, right?” He squeezed Derek’s face lightly, then let go.

Derek reluctantly left him to begin the cleanup, shuffling to the shower in a daze.When he was clean and dressed, he returned. The kitchen wasn’t spotless, but much more manageable. Pumpkin guts had been cleaned from all surfaces and tossed, the tools were in the sink for cleaning, and the seeds were washed and drying on a cookie sheet.

Stiles was bundling the tablecloth around the stained newspapers when Derek found him. He tilted his head up and smiled. “Just need to add the tea lights, then put them on the-”

Derek pulled him to his feet and kissed him in one motion, keeping his arm locked around his waist. Emotions welled up in his chest, a tangle of gratitude and love and fond exasperation, squeezing his heart until he thought it would burst. He cupped Stiles’s face with one hand, kissing him until his own knees went weak.

“Well,” Stiles panted when he pulled back at last. “Maybe we should carve gourds more often.”

Derek snorted. “Thank you for breaking into a pumpkin patch for me.”

Stiles smiled, his eyes hazy with exhaustion. “Anytime, anywhere, anything.”

“You just like trespassing.”

He looped his arms around his waist, melting against his chest. “Always seems to end well for me.” He nipped his chin playfully.

Derek growled softly.

“Let’s go set the pumpkins out and go to bed.”

They put them along the porch steps, with the Wolf Man pumpkin at the top, then retreated into the house, though it was a couple hours before they slept.

Derek woke up to a second place ribbon stuck to the stem of his Wolf Man pumpkin and a grainy still from security footage pinned under the wipers of his car.

Stiles laughed himself silly at both and made Derek pose for pictures with the pumpkin.

He loved him a lot. But he was definitely dumping pumpkin guts over his head later.

[fetchmearum420]

1776 lines that have me cackling:

“CHRIST IT’S HOT! 😩”

“I’m coming I’m coming! Hold your damn horses!”

“SIT DOWN YOU SCURVY DOG OR I’LL KNOCK YOU DOWN!”

“Mr. Morris…WHAT IN HELL GOES ON IN NEW YORK?!?!?!”

“Don’t worry John the history books will clean it up”

“Hello! Whose little girl are you? 🤓”

“John why don’t you give it up? Nobody listens to you you’re obnoxious and disliked”

“Done?! Why certain-LEE!”

“HOMICIDE! HOMICIDE!”

“ahhh sweet Jesus!”

“Oh for Heaven’s sake let me get through it once!”

“Oh Mr. Adams you are driving me to HOMICIDE!”

“It’s simple Mr. Chase, increase and multiply”

“Somewhere between New York and Pennsylvania”

“Well Mr. Adams you are chairman of the war committee, do you feel up to whoring, drinking, deserting AND New Brunswick? 😏”

“There must be some mistake I have an Aunt who lives in New Brunswick”

“You must tell her to keep up the good work”

“And our women are serene, full bosomed (🤨)”

“Oh please do go on gentlemen, you’re making the only breeze in Philadelphia 😜”

“Son sir what son? (😃)”

“The Royal governor of New Jersey sir 😄”

*John Hancock getting embarrassed*

“But if we’re arrested now, my name is STILL THE ONLY ONE ON THE DAMN THING” (this part legitimately had me on the floor wheezing)

“Alright step right up gentlemen don’t miss your chance to commit treason 😏”

[crusherthedoctor]

Why do you love Black Doom so much? XD

Ironic love, to be more precise. >:P Though then again, considering how semi-legitimately giddy I was to see his stupid face in SxS Generations... Oh. Oh no.

Anyway, I love Doom ironically because... well, just thinking about him makes me laugh. His name alone is comedy gold. His design is as wannabe gangsta as the rest of the game he made his debut in. His voice is The Bad Guy Voice of All Time. His plan is needlessly convoluted, but somehow not as needlessly convoluted as Mephiles' plan. His boss theme... is actually really good, that part's unironic. He doesn't know what lightning is, which really goes to show what a developed and multifaceted character he is. *WHEEZING*

A lot of it boils down to him never getting the large-scale unearned fandom that Mephiles, Scourge, Surge, etc got, meaning I never had to sift through endless gushing over how Better Than Eggman he is wherever I go, thereby making him a lot easier to relax and laugh at instead of get frustrated at. Yeah, that's not entirely a logical reason, but nothing about this is logical, so there. :P

[star-going-supernova]

now there's a Prompt: (miscellaneous Princess quest ending AU where Gregory lives with Vanessa)

Vanessa turns up to work one day with Gregory, only to find a note taped to the front door telling Vanessa she's the one in charge of the pizzaplex now. Gregory starts babbling about all the changes they can make to the pizzaplex, while Vanessa mentally reboots over the fact she is now the one in charge despite having never put her name forward.

This is both silly and wholesome! As per a follow-up request, this ficlet is part of the MVP!Vanessa AU. Also, I’m not a business-y person by any means, so ignore any blatant inaccuracies, lol.

Promotion

Vanessa reread the note a third time, ignoring the way Gregory was laughing so hard he could barely breathe in the background. Beside her, Freddy scanned over the paperwork that had been left with the note.��

“Tell me it’s a joke,” Vanessa begged him. 

“These are legitimate transfer of ownership forms,” he replied apologetically. “All they require is your signature for them to be legally binding. My records are in accordance with this change, suggesting it is not a joke. The recognition software designated you the owner of this particular pizzaplex.” 

Gregory wheezed, nearly toppling over to the floor of the security office. 

“But why me?” Vanessa asked. 

Freddy shrugged helplessly, and she spared a moment to marvel at how different the animatronics were at night. Chica had mentioned once, offhandedly, that some people got freaked out if they acted too alive. That they felt comfortable enough to drop their programmed personalities around her and Gregory… it felt good, welcoming, to be trusted like that.

“So if I don’t sign, these are useless?”

“Can I sign them?” Gregory piped up. “Can I be the boss of the pizzaplex?” 

Vanessa went to shoot back a firm refusal, only to pause. That… now that was an idea. Her brother loved the pizzaplex, loved the animatronics. This building was maybe the first place he had ever truly considered a home. 

She picked up a pen without a word and signed the forms on each line that demanded her name. He groaned theatrically, but even her silent answer wasn’t enough to dampen his mood and stop him from giggling over her predicament. 

“Not yet,” Vanessa said once she finished. “But once you’re an adult… it’s all yours.” 

He paused, mirth battling with confusion. “Really?” he asked after a moment, serious. 

“Really. So, do good in school or whatever so you actually know how to run this place once I give it to you.” Sweeping the documents into a pile, she returned them to the folder they’d been tucked inside. “In fact, you’re officially the unofficial manager or—something. Idea guy. Quality control. Just, tell me what you want to do or change, and we’ll work on that. Like practice.” 

Gregory was quiet for a minute, examining her. Probably looking for a trap or a catch. Freddy was silent, but she’d felt him startle when she made the offer. A quick glance at him showed eyes just slightly brighter than normal. 

“Deal,” Gregory decided. “We’ll do it together.” 

“Business partners. Until you’re old enough and buy me out for, like, a donut.” 

“Maybe even two donuts,” he said, his amusement returning. 

Vanessa tuned him out as he started rambling about rock climbing walls and bungee trampolines and how cool it would be if there was an outdoor area, especially with the great big open field behind the pizzaplex literally just sitting there doing nothing. She turned instead to Freddy. 

“Any objections?” she asked quietly. 

His eyes flicked from her to Gregory, who had migrated to the office chair and was spinning around in circles and talking up at the ceiling. 

“Not at all,” he answered softly. “And I am certain the others will feel the same as I do.” 

“And how do you feel?”

He looked back at her, and it was at times like these that Vanessa was suddenly reminded that for all of Freddy’s sweet, teddy bear personality, he wasn’t an idiot. He was the leader of the band—of all the animatronics, if you knew them as well as she did—and while it was thanks to the luck of the draw, he lived up to the role he’d been assigned. 

“It will be a… welcome change, to be owned by someone who does not look at us and see only ‘dumb robots.’” 

“I bet.” She blew out a heavy breath. Turning around so Gregory would hear, she announced, “I think my first order of business is to give the hardworking night guard the day off.” 

Freddy chuckled, and Gregory’s sneakers-turned-brakes squeaked as he stopped the chair. He grinned. 

“Nap time for the night guard?” he asked. 

“Such a poor, overworked college student who’s frequently tossed into the path of rampaging murderous animatronics deserves a break,” she agreed. “And that means a nap. My second order of business will be to actually try and figure out the rampaging murderous animatronic issue, because I’m not convinced the higher ups were actually putting effort into that.” 

Freddy’s hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed gently, gratefully. “And you, superstar?” he asked. “What will be your first order of business?” 

Vanessa expected to be bombarded with pleas for Dippin’ Dots stands or better arcade prizes or a rollercoaster. 

Instead, Gregory popped to his feet, beaming as he bounced over to them. “I think it’s high time we got Bonnie fixed up and back on stage.” 

She heard the hitch in Freddy’s chest behind her, the stutter of his mechanical heart. His grip spasmed and tightened again, briefly, like he hadn’t meant to.

“Y’know what,” Vanessa said, feeling stupidly proud of her little brother, “first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll call the technicians and see what we can do.” 

“Yes!” Gregory fist-pumped. “C’mon, Freddy, we need to make sure his room looks okay for when he comes back!” He took Freddy’s hand and tugged, and Freddy followed after him without protest. “Do you think he’d like it if we got people to make get-well cards for him so he knows how much he was missed?”

Vanessa shook her head as they left, ready to track down a couch for herself. She needed some peace and quiet to process her… promotion. 

“Hell of a promotion,” she grumbled to herself, undoing her tie. New dress code rule, effective immediately: night guards could wear whatever they wanted. And would get a raise. And a new crowbar on the company’s dime. 

All right, so maybe she could get used to this.

[akuma-homura]

the heart acoustic still does a weird audio illusion thing to me where I legitimately hear 'girl' instead of 'boy' for 'i was just a boy you see'

like, I don't know how, and even despite knowing it's boy I still fuckin hear it

It drove me insane a bit bc at first i just kinda accepted it as >oh this must be neat little lyric trick or something, maybe gender weirdness or something something metaphorical given it's the heart's part

i even tried making it clearer and all of that and strained my brain to hear 'boy' and tried listening through different qualities and everything but no, I kept hearing 'girl'

and my brain just got stuck on it for a little while bc it wasn't acting like audio illusions usually act for me-- once I know the right word or whatever that's being said, I hear that, but it wasn't doing that for me here

friend even suggested doing a test to see what people'd hear but I just kinda gave up on that thought immediately because I felt embarrassed wheezes

a year later I still hear 'girl' there but my brain knows it's 'boy' so I just think 'boy' anyway, and a couple times I've managed to hear 'boy' there

basically: my fun time with the heart acoustic and whatever the fuck my ears / brain were doing

[sapphire-weapon]

I’m very excited for the next chapter, but oh boy the text chats are so good. I’d read a whole fic of your Eagleone texts. You write them so well.

The “I’m just gonna sit here and pine.” Part had me wheezing.

the text chats are currently at 81 pages LOL and like i said most of it is really explicit sexting, like explicit almost to the point of cringe, so i'll probably never make it public but

there's also like. headcanons in this that i haven't decided if i'm actually going to, like... share en masse with people, like.

i legit think that ashley is probably just a little homophobic in a very well-meaning ignorant straight person kind of way. like, she has no idea that some of her impressions of sexuality are wrong and also offensive, and she also has no idea that the shit she says about it can be hurtful. and i think that because of her very privileged, likely sheltered and conservative, rich girl upbringing.

so like. there's a whole thing in here where leon very casually comes out to her as having fooled around with dudes in college, and she handles it REALLY REALLY poorly just because she doesn't know any better and it ends up in a huge fight.

and it's just like... idk if that's something that will actually be received well in fandom LOL

but there's a bunch of other shit in here that i might actually use for the fic also as well -- for like actual legitimate scenes, so that's another reason why i don't want to make it public.

like here's another bit of it, which is ashley's reaction to leon telling her the truth about what actually happened in raccoon city, since i assume that the remake series is going to follow RE6's idea of "no one in the public knows what actually happened and the whole thing was covered up"

this could make a pretty compelling scene, so like. i'mma just let it marinate here for a lil bit

[gildead]

CONTENT WARNING: THE FOLLOWING DRABBLE CONTAINS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF GORE AND DISCUSSION OF ANIMAL/POKEMON ABUSE. READER DESCRIPTION IS ADVISED.

Part 1 Part 2 (you are here)! Part 3 (MASSIVE GRAPHIC CONTENT WARNING. PLEASE SEE TAGS FOR DETAILS.) Part 4

It was worse. So much worse than he thought.

Gold's first instinct was to grab a Hyper Potion from his bag in order to address the Wigglytuff's injuries. He approached her as she sat down on the picnic blanket. Forever coiled his body around the Wigglytuff to help her sit up, his tail pressed to the ground. He nudged her to face Gold with his snout, gently so as to not hurt her. He remembered being in this position before as a Houndour.

If anybody could help her, surely it would be his trainer! Right?

"C-can you open your mouth?" Gold asked in a soft voice.

The Wigglypuff did so, and Gold immediately wished he never asked.

No wonder she was in so much pain, Gold realized as his stomach lurched horribly. What a lot of people didn't realize was that the Wigglytuff line had flexible, inflatable bodies for a good reason: to protect their fragile internal organs and skeletons. Legitimate Pokémon battles, even with Wild Pokémon, had been shaped through years of League regulations preventing the use of excessive force. Whatever the poor Wigglytuff went through had caused extreme internal injuries, leaving a bloody, gory mess inside her mouth.

She let out a pained wheeze -- far from the melodic tones Pokémon of her species were known for.

"She needs a Pokémon center," Please hissed to Gold. She reached her snout into his bag and slid over his damaged yet still usable PokéGear. "We need the help of the living."

Gold fumbled to the PokéGear, his sleeves scrolling down to find the one connection to his mortal life who knew of his undeath. As he did so, Please lowered herself to the Wigglytuff, her voice lowering. "Now, dear, what happened?" she asked, using the same tone she used when coaxing Hurry to bed, "We're here to help you."

The Wigglytuff moved to speak, only emitting another breathless wheeze from her mangled throat. She was cut off by a sharp cough from Away. "Foolish creature," Celebi scolded, "Do you truly seek to harm yourself further? We will get nowhere if you force yourself to speak."

"She's doing her best." Typhlosion glowered at Celebi.

Celebi sighed dramatically and fluttered over to the Wigglytuff. "I simply believe there is a more sufficient way. Let me read her mind."

Please still looked irritated, but she stepped aside. Celebi had a point; after all, its psychic abilities were how it learned of Gold's plight -- and without them, her beloved trainer would have been condemned to a fate of eternal nothingness. The Time Travel Pokémon reached its single arm out to take Wigglytuff's hand, eye shut in concentration--

And both screamed.

Celebi had barely touched the other Pokémon before it recoiled in horror, nearly falling backwards into Hurry. The tiny spectral Cyndaquil dodged out of the way and hid behind his mother, disturbed. Wigglytuff sunk against Forever again and whined. Gold, startled, dropped his PokéGear into the ground.

"It's okay, Celbi." Hurry waddled to the shaken Celebi. "Just us. No big scary Pokémon coming back to eat you."

"Thank you, young one, but... this was no mere Pokémon at work." Celebi's face darkened as its voice dropped. "But rather... human hands."

Everybody, even the Wigglytuff, went dead silent. So silent, in fact, that the only sound to permeate it... was tearing fabric and breaking bone.

They turned to Gold, whose sleeves had dropped and whose body was showing the wear and tear caused by the monster from long ago. As his pupils vanished, a horde of Unown came bursting out from the wholes of his sleeves, intermingling with one another as they floated above, where the Wigglytuff could read them.

He floated over Wigglytuff, his expression frozen in rage. As she looked up, the message from the Unown became crystal clear.

SHOW ME WHO DID THIS TO YOU.

[membermentmania]

August 7th, 10:37-10:54pm 

*If you’re actually reading this, there were a lot of minor edits that completely changed the entire vibe of everything from the last session, but I am not including minor edits in here(as stated), my bad bros. I was going one way with Kevin and then I was actually, no I’m doing a 180. Also, I am legitimately impressed if you’re reading this. Congrats. You’re officially elite as fuck. LMFAO ENJOY??? 

You’ll get it one day though.” 

“I don’t want to!” she yelled, pushing him away. “I don’t want to get it! I don’t want to do this!” 

Any softness that was there left him. Which she was fine with. She hated that part the most. She hated what that said about her. “That really fucking sucks for you then, huh?” he responded playfully. 

“It doesn’t! I’m not doing this!”

He cocked his head slightly. She hated him. “You will and you’ll do great.” 

“Fuck you,” she spat. She turned to leave when suddenly pure agony surged through her. It was so bad she saw spots as she fell to her knees. She let out a mix of a cough and a wheeze as a fresh wave of tears bubbled to the surface. Her entire body felt like millions of tiny needles were stabbing at each individual cell. Bile crept up her throat, threatening to spill when she caught herself with her hands. She couldn’t even let out the scream that tried to escape her. She couldn’t cry for help. She couldn’t even get the words out to ask what was happening to her. It felt like a miracle when it left as quickly as it started. She curled in on herself, gasping for air desperately. Kevin stayed silent. “What did you just do to me?!” she cried out through her sobs. 

“That’s what it feels like to have your contract terminated,” he said calmly. “Is that what you want?”

She forced herself back onto her knees with her hands and wiped aggressively at her face with her forearm. “How long does it last?” she asked with pained determination. 

He looked equally impressed as he did annoyed by it. “One minute for every day left on your contract.” She took a deep breath. “That was four seconds, by the way. For reference, of course. And you have just over two years left.” He tapped a finger to his chin. You would be sitting at 798 minutes, or just under thirteen and a half hours.” 

“Will it kill me?” she breathed out. 

“You can’t actually be considering it,” he responded with a surprised laugh. She glared at him defiantly. “It might. Or you might corrupt in the process.”

“I don’t want to do this.” 

He shook his head, small smile plastered across his face. The flurries of white were back again. “You always were the stronger one.” She didn’t respond. He wasn’t hers. He couldn’t be. “Very well then.” She braced herself, but the pain didn’t come. He just  looked at her, seemingly absent. “Huh.” She went to speak but he quickly added on. “Transform for me.” 

“What?” 

“Transform.” 

“Into who?” 

“Hm. Can you make yourself look like me?” 

“Why?” 

“I’m giving you a new job. Can you do it or not?” 

“Okay,” she breathed out. She ran a thumb over the polaroid in her hoodie pocket, letting her uniform manifest itself. 

[stevenlyle1990]

What Is the Authoritative Use of Cardamom?

The lovely countries that make up Indo-China, Sri Lanka, and Guatemala ensure that cardamom is inevitable. Cardamom seedlings are rich in nutrients and energy, although they can be demanding and tiresome. Three of the seeds in the case select the exact flavor on any given occasion. Tan seeds represent just one of the various perspectives on the reasons behind the redesign within the enormous area. Vidalista 20 will soon enable you to manage ed. Even though they're incredible and capable of eating your bundle, they might be enthusiastic about you! They are frequently referred to as the "heads of Flavors," the India of the eleventh century when it comes to study!

tolerant, accommodating. It is a level of caution. Cardamom is ready to help! It's not in a particularly good spot because the entire store is passively connected to life. It has the idea of methanol inside of it. The main alcohol, which fits a very awful basis on the enormous situations, is ready to control stomach-related illnesses and conditions, regardless of the direction, including indigestion, acid reflux disease, farting, and abdominal pain.

Try cardamom out in the unlikely event that you just need a little more mending while it's on the stomach-cooperated device. A small amount of mobile work helps you get your soaking, and the fact that it's connected to your eating schedule makes it worthwhile. 

A Stand-In For Cardamom's Abdomen-Related Success?

Apart from taking a shower, the antiquated flavor might even contribute to arguments. It will become a strong carry when the size of preventing is reduced in addition to the showering repetition.

A Repair for Bronchial Asthma

Cardamom adds another layer of development to blossoming as you flow between one creation and the concurring. Drawing in bronchial asthma and associated symptoms, such as hacking, shortness of breath, and frequent wheezing, may also be beneficial. By practicing its often expected chemicals and calming qualities, the breathing apparatus can assist with the development's symptoms. As a result, cardamom can aid in soothing sore throats caused by misplaced tissues, promoting blood disbandment for the lungs, and making ordinary fluid layers more delightful.

The evaluations are proper now the technique for overseeing closing the precise wonderful benefit. However, clinically educated professionals, on the whole, will for the very best proportion of half float in the direction of inexperienced cardamom for the repair of different respiratory challenges that aren’t bronchial asthma-related which arranges bronchitis.

Help With Mollifying An Upset Throat

One other repair legitimizes the work to deal with your exacerbated throat. Cardamom’s benefits for good can asset within the restoration of sore throats generally by slashing down contamination. To get an extra robust repair becoming a member of cinnamon and cardamom and cinnamon will asset the cost by inspecting its antibacterial properties. Be part of the flavors in water and also you’ll get a horrible occasion for counterfeit sore throat remedy.

Hair Patches But Crown Nice

It doesn't just fit into your trick naturally—it also makes you feel amazed! Cardamom's benefits for antibacterial and cell support extend two or three levels beyond treating typical crown points and supporting the skin. It also enables the growth of your hair follicles' vitality. All you need to remember to do is mix cardamom with water and incorporate it with your ideal compound and conditioner. It will take the place of your hair's upside and shimmer. As things stand, you'll appear to be faltering, significant, and gorgeous!

Work From The Top Of Your Areas

These can also be places where I focus my energies. Cardamom is used to support the hair and crown, but we're also allowing it to have an impact on oral health. Obviously! The thriving offerings of its flavor will undoubtedly be the primary sources of energy for overflow, deterring terrible breath!

Cardamom's wonderful flavor and aroma come from the regular attar. However, the actual flavor may also strengthen your salivary gland remodelling by preventing tooth fractures. Additionally, it allows you to work while you relax. This bad breath cure may work well for most flavors, including anise, which is one of the many flavors that bad breath attacks.

[godtier]

u know that feeling when u clock into work at ur retail job and ur like "do I get to work with the cool ppl today or not" and u realize the cool people aren't working and ur stuck with that one overbearing loser who wheeze-laughs at family feud on the break room TV and also talks ur ear off about stuff u legitimately enjoy but they do it in such a way that makes u reevaluate ur choices and u wonder why u bothered to come in at all

u know that feeling

that's me rn with my brain being stuck in bed from vaccine recovery

it just keeps going HEY U KNOW THAT META U WANTED TO WRITE or HEY YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED PART TWO OF YOUR FIC IN NEARLY 3 YEARS ISN'T THAT FUNNY or WOW YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED ANY OTHER PROMPTS FOR THE ART CHALLENGE and on and on and on while simultaneously feeding me ideas about said things that I know I won't remember later

this truly is a fate worse than death

[colbyheartland]

Fucking WHEEZING, who in the office thought this was a good idea? Like yes yes corporation wants to make money I understand that part of it just fine but surely someone, ANYONE, had to know how bad of an idea this was and that people would hate it enough to cancel existing subscriptions. I know corporations like to think we’re dumb and all but consumers have limits especially when you have a bunch of fucking competitors who aren’t doing this. Of course piracy is an option but again, Netflix has MANY competitors and they still decided to do this. The height of arrogance to think people won’t switch over to one of the many other available streaming services.

It is actually frustratingly stupid of them. If you take away the convenience of streaming services and confine them to the home you are taking away the freedom that made them special in the first place, you are turning your site back into cable by confining it to one device in one space. Also having to constantly log in to prove yourself? Why would you do that, people hate having to do that. I have not seen a single person defending Netflix’s move. From a marketing and business standpoint this is wild, truly this is one of the worst moves they could have made. Legitimately if they wanted more money introducing ads to Netflix would have been a better move than this ridiculous idea.

[snowmuttgetsweird]

5/3/23, 1 AM

CW: Kink, Hypnosis

Little 1 AM post before bed, just a thing I've been thinking about lately.

I download MP3s from WarpMyMind, which is a website where anyone in the community can write a script for a hypnosis session, record it, and then post it for others to enjoy. Some are paid, but most are free.

The specific kind I like to listen to is kinda embarrassing for me to talk about. I'm not sure why, cause it's not that far removed from stuff I've already expressed interest in. Maybe because I know hypnosis doesn't "work" per say, but the idea of it is fun, and I guess I treat it similarly to something like puppy play, where you're sorta letting yourself sink into a different, comforting or empowering headspace.

I like a lot of transformation (TF) files. These are the files that are meant to, like... Alter your mental state so that you see yourself in a different way, or you feel more motivated and driven to take action to make specific changes in your life that result in achieving your specific goals. Some are supposed to subliminally kinda "trick" your brain into making genuine chemical changes, but they're not real, much like pup play. It's just fun to imagine and pretend. I also like the ones that are supposed to sorta wipe your brain and give you a different purpose.

I listen to ones that like... Focus on making you obsessed with your junk and your body, or keep you always a little horny, or never fully flaccid. I like ones that try to influence your brain into, like, growing really thick, dense body hair, or turning your nuts into heavy, churning testosterone factories 24/7. I like the ones that try to influence you to go to the gym, or "curse" you with something, like a rambunctious inner-pup that starts forcing itself out into your daily life if you don't give it sufficient attention and respect on a regular basis, or an inability to reach climax no matter how much you masturbate, trapping you in a never-ending edge session.

I've never noticed any legitimate effects, but the ones that are actually well-scripted and decent quality can be really fun to listen to at the time.

Problem of course is that most are shit.

A lot of them lack inductions- that is to say, the part at the beginning where the speaker relaxes you and lulls your mind into a receptive state. That or their inductions are really poor.

Some aren't spoken at all. Some scripts are read by synthesized voices that have weird inflections or pronounce things wrong, and it really breaks immersion.

Some have really poor recording quality, like they're recording their recitation from another room.

Some are polluted with a lot of wheezing noises, or wet, smacky mouth noises.

Some are mixed SUPER poorly. A lot will use white noise or binaural tones to help induct you, but mix their voice significantly lower, making it difficult to hear them.

Some of them seem almost improvised, like they were done on the spot. They trip over their words, take long pauses trying to decide what they'll say next, and use odd phrases that don't quite roll off the tongue and make them sound dumb. I'd understand if it were a live session, but being that they're pre-recorded, I'd think that they would have a script or at least an outline, and recite/record a FEW times to get a good take, or at least a composite made from multiple takes, but I guess not.

Not to mention there are a lot of very odd, and sometimes extremely specific files. For every dumb jock TF file, there are like, eight files that are trying to "sissify" you into being more effeminate, or convince you to shit yourself in your sleep, or to specifically seek out and have sex with haggard old homeless women. Yeah that's a real one I scrolled past the other day.

Now and again I find a pretty good one though.

I miss The Hypnotic Beast. They're a furry that does hypnosis files. They used to have a handful that were free to download, but now everything is behind a paywall. I don't blame them- their files are genuinely very high quality with good audio, mixing, inductions, and scripts- I recommend checking them out if you've got the money to spare for their Patreon, but I sure miss those free ones, lol.

There's great hypno art out there too. Dramamine comes to mind, though their art tends to lean more heavily into really severe "mind breaking" type stuff- like complete erasure of your personality, blank slate. I still wanna be me, I just wanna be a better me- but idk, maybe I shouldn't trust myself to know what a "better me" is, and just leave it in someone else's hands?

I guess that's part of the game.