wheezingstar

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Haven’t been on here in a hot minute but uh, just me who kind of hates the new layout?

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Hey chat, how’s it going?🤺

Can y’all send me some ideas? Silly little headcannons you have with call of duty characters or even anime characters! Doesn’t matter if I know what character or anime I could watch it or if I’m too lazy I could find a character I do know I think would also vibe with the headcannon.

I want to get back into posting silly little stories and such on here but I’m just so unmotivated and have no inspiration!

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*feels my body get anxious for no reason* what is it boy, what do you see?

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Would you mind putting your age in your bio? Want to make sure you’re not a minor.

It’s in there, I’m 18🎀

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I like where this is going music man

Just Like Heaven (Ch. 1)

“Benny! Seriously, don’t get coffee in it, you’re gonna be bouncing off of literally every wall in the city, just ask her for decaf!” 

“But maybe I want to be crazy, I’ll run home instead of taking the metros!”

“Benny you will literally die,”

“Holy shit! Was that a bomb?”

“Why is everyone running?”

“Benny? Where are you?”

“Benny get up! Please!”

“Stop! Please, stop! Can’t you see him down there?!”

“Benny! Please stand up! Why aren’t you moving?”

“Benny!”

Sweat dripped from every pore of your body, your fingers clutching tightly around the slowly rusting necklace. Your breaths were shaking, uneven, and your mouth ran dry. How many times were you going to have this dream? 

You cried quietly, the base of your palms digging into the sockets of your eyes, lips curled inward to keep yourself quiet. 

It felt like every night was the same dream. Of the day the world all went to shit, the day the virus hit the United States in its core, the day Benny died. The day the world died. Benny’s screams would never leave your head, the image of his mangled little body…

“Hey. You up? We move out soon,” The voice made you jump, your hands dropping from your face, but not before quickly wiping your eyes. It’s not like anyone would judge you, but you don’t want to seem so frail anymore. Mary, the woman who’d snuck up on you, would never judge. She was a lovely woman. 

She lost her husband on outbreak day, most people lost loved ones that day. And the day after, and after, and so on. Everyday, everybody risked death.

Dawn was breaking, which meant it was time to go. You packed up your backpack, it was an old red Jansport bag, one that you’ve managed to keep all throughout high school and even now.

There wasn’t much to pack up--a thermal blanket, water canteen, some rations. 

After the outbreak and all the bombs, not many people were left. The ones that did survive, created groups, and factions. Like this group, it had a goal. You’d heard rumors of a base for survivors, that you could be picked up by the military and brought to this safe haven of sorts. Of course, there were those who preferred to live on their own, without law and order and regulation, but you didn’t. Why would you? It was dangerous, and it’s not like you had the greatest set of survival skills. 

You watched your brother die that day, and somehow you were able to make it home, hoping to find your father, but he was gone. Phones weren't working anymore, so all you did was pack a bag and leave, until you found this group. Maybe your dad was escorted to this base, he is someone of importance. Or, was, really. In the old world. 

“Sam, you got everything?” You asked the young boy. He reminded you of Benny, in a lot of ways. They were close in age, too. He was the youngest in the group, out of the six of you. The oldest is Manny, a man in his late fifties, and his brother is Josef-- he was thirty. Anna was the second oldest, a fearful woman in her early thirties, you guessed. She never told. And then there is Mary. She always had this look in her eyes that told you she wouldn’t mind death anytime soon. She missed her husband.

“Yeah, I got everything. Saved you some canned peaches last night, you fell asleep before I could give them to you,” He said, handing you a newly opened can of the orange fruit, and you smiled. He was such a sweet boy. “Thanks, Sammy. This is why you’re my favorite person in the group,” You winked and patted his head, pouring some of the peaches into your mouth, the rest of the group already starting ahead. 

 You were headed for the pickup point, which was apparently in Philadelphia. Josef was the one leading the group--he mostly kept to himself, only really talking to either his brother or addressing the group like you were children, which seemed fair. No one knew how to navigate through the lands like this, or know where’s safe to make camp and whatnot. Sometimes he’d mumble about his wife, but would stop the moment anyone asked about her more. 

Two more days passed, it took your group longer to get there because the older ones were not able to walk in the woods for longer than a few hours without having to rest. You could tell they weighed down on Josef, even his brother seemed to be a thorn in his side. But safety in numbers kept him from ditching you all, which you were grateful for at the very least. Plus, he was the one who had a gun. 

Some infected stragglers crossed your group's path here and there, people who were being chased to the pickup zone and weren’t so lucky, you’d wager. You were all prepared for this, prepared to hide or climb. Josef was prepared to shoot.

A giant tree loomed before your group, it was marked with flags and paint, marking it as the pickup zone. No one else was here, which you were thankful for, because most people couldn’t be trusted, not anymore. They’d either rob you, or kill you and then rob you. That was the type of darkness people turned towards after the world ended. 

“So what do we do, Josef? Make camp until those bootlickers decide to drop down on us and rescue us?” Manny asked his brother, he wasn’t very fond of the military. He thought they were too harsh, too brutal to humans that relied on them for safety--yet here he was, anyway. 

“Shut up. Make a fire,” Josef looked at Sam and you. You had the firestarter kit, and Sam always stuck around you anyway. As you and Sam collect some wood to make a small fire, the rest of the group checks their map to make sure this is the right spot, just in case. They set out their sleeping bags and took out some food, none of them knew when we’d be saved. 

It could be days until the next pickup, there was no indicator of when they would come, if there even was a schedule. 

Some hours later, you were all huddled around the fire, cooking squirrels and rabbits that Anna and Manny caught with their wired traps. No one spoke, all focused on the meat before you, waiting until the little pieces were done and ready to eat. 

You shared your rabbit with Sam, Manny shared with Josef, and Anna shared with Mary. Sam took out his deck of cards that he picked up from another town some weeks ago, and you and he played a couple rounds of War before you turned your head to the sky, because you thought you heard something odd. 

“Um, is that them?” You asked, pointing to the sky--it was a helicopter, slowly descending, with a giant vehicle below it that it seemed to be carrying.

You told Sam to pack his cards as you packed up your water and any leftover pieces of meat you had, everyone backed away from the tree to allow the helicopter to land, and it was the loudest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. You covered your ears as your hair whipped around, scratching your squinted eyes as the helicopter set down the vehicle first, and then dropped a ladder. 

Three men slid down, all yelling over the loud sound of the chopper to back up, the first one to touch his boots to the ground immediately raised his rifle at us. 

“Back up! Hands on your heads!” He ordered. He was tall, thin, and his skin was dark, with a black gator mask covering most of his face. 

You all raised your hands to your heads, Sam was scared, afraid that this was something else than a group of saviors. 

Once the last of the three men hit the ground, the helicopter recalled its ladder and ascended back up before taking off. The silence that settled seemed almost louder than the chopper’s blades. You looked around at the other men--one had a short mohawk, with a glaring gaze and a thick Scottish accent as he spoke over his comms. The final man was behind the two. He was big, with wide shoulders and he walked with confidence and pose. He wore a balaclava like the Scottish one wore, except he had a print of a skull on it, like something you swore you’d seen at a hot topic before. 

“Everyone on your knees, we’re checking for infection. If you are infected, we will kill you. No questions asked,” The first man said, and as he got closer, you could see on his uniform the name ‘Garrick’ velcroed on his breast. The other one, you couldn’t see his name yet, but the one with the Mohawk walked around behind you all with a cubic shaped device in his hands, one that he held to each one of your necks as you kneeled to check for infection. 

Which truthfully, didn’t make sense to you. Infected people turned within minutes of being bit, but they had to be as careful as possible, you guess. No one beeped, which was relieving despite you knowing for a fact no one was infected, but the anxiety of waiting clung to you. 

You couldn’t stop staring at the skull guy, he was scary looking. And he wouldn’t stop staring at you, but that was probably because he was growing suspicious of your staring. You gulped and looked down, until Garrick announced that we could stand up, and to grab our things. You grabbed your bag and Sam’s, you were last in line, but before any of you made it to the Humvee, the mohawk man ordered you to all stop. 

“What is it, McTavish?” Garrick asked. It went silent, before you knew it, McTavish was announcing ‘Movement!’ and opening fire in the distance, Garrick was shoving you and Sam to take cover behind the Humvee. 

All three soldiers were shouting out words that you didn’t understand, you were more worried about the flashing device hidden under the engine of the vehicle. 

(Oh my god I've never posted to tumblr so I hope this looks fine 😭😭 but this is basically a 'zombie' AU that is Ghost orientated, I lowkey rushed this first chapter along cuz I'm just too excited to write about him lol. I hope u all like it so far! It's gonna be slowburn, def will be smut too hehe ok ty for reading!!)

(I'm also going to be posting this to my Ao3 account!! Here is the link;

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63142648

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fuck these fascists

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My gif-making skills are rusty, but I MADE A THING 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

[wheezingstar]

Trigger warnings‼️mentions of child loss, neglect and descriptions of depression.

When his wife became pregnant, both were ecstatic about becoming parents. Their joy lasted for many months until tragedy struck in the eighth month when their baby died in the womb. Devastated by the news, they were engulfed in profound sorrow. In the months that followed, his wife struggled to recover and dealt with daily grief.

Simon, a mafia boss, was out on a job with his men one night. They were at an enemy's house, and he was about to finish the target off when he heard crying from a room down the hallway. Lowering his weapon, he instructed one of his men to keep an eye on the target and followed the sound of crying to a room with a small crib tucked in the corner. He approached the crib slowly and saw a tiny, fragile infant in poor condition. Gently, he lifted the baby and held its delicate body against his chest, recognizing that it had been severely neglected.

He returned to his men and instructed them to finish the job before leaving the house with the tiny infant in his arms.

Several hours later, his driver pulled up outside their massive mansion. Simon made his way inside and up to his wife's room. He quietly sat on the edge of her bed and gently stroked her back to wake her.

"Honey, wake up," he whispered softly. She didn’t stir until she heard the infant starting to cry.

Unfinished, will probably stay unfinished.

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Things Simon Riley says

Masterlist

Nothing.

This man is silent all of the time.

It’s unsettling.

You almost think he’s mute because of how eerily silent he is literally all of the time.

(You had also thought he was deaf so you attempted to sign really badly and John lost his shit laughing. “He can hear just fine love. He’s just an arsehole.”)

John is your personal translator for the first few months and can somehow read Simon’s expressions while you slowly figure it out.

Which leads to the first time he does speak around you.

Simon, his voice hoarse and low from no use, greeting you for the first time as he walks into John’s house, “good ta see ya.”

Simon shaking his head and chuckling at your wide and startled eyes.

Simon slowly saying more and more to you, sometimes it’s a simple, “how are ya today?” and other times it’s your name in that baritone gruff voice that heats up your face.

Simon grumbling at Johnny when he attempts to sit beside you at dinner one night, “no, move.”

Simon glaring at him and uttering the simple two words again.

Simon quietly saying, “food’s good,” to you as you all finish your meal and you nearly choke on your food thanking him.

Simon correctly the guys when they refer to you as ‘John’s neighbor’, “she’s got a name. Use it.”

Simon barking out, “10 more laps for that shit” when they’re all doing PT and Johnny pops off about how he might ask out “John’s cute little neighbor.”

Simon sending you a text one day that reads “dinner tonight? I’ll cook.”

Simon making causal conversation as he methodically prepares ramen for you two, the hulking man taking up your entire kitchen, “How long ‘ave ya lived here?”

Simon blocking you entering the kitchen when you try to clean up with a stern , “no sit down and eat. I cooked so I’ll clean up.”

Simon keeping your weekly dinners up for months until he has to go on a mission and before he leaves the last time, he places a kiss on the corner of your lips while whispering “I’ll be back. 6 months tops. Take pictures of everything you make and we’ll make together when I get back.”

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sorry i threatened to eat you i was trying to flirt

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Relatable.

I think I need König to put all his weight on me, or as much as he can while laying comfortably on me. I think that could fix something. also, him playing with my hair. I know that would fix me

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It’s unfair that the Task Force 141 should be called The Beauty Force 141. Like fuck you mean every single one of them is as handsome as realistically possible. Not just the game models, the actors too. How am I supposed to shoot enemies in the game when there’s a literal supermodel of them is gazing into my eyes and seducing me whatttefuck.

Military propaganda worked tbh.

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Once again posting that if you voted for the party doing Nazi salutes on stage you are not welcome on my blog. Don’t read my fics. Don’t engage with my posts. I actively dislike you, and you are not welcome in the space I’ve created.

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there are two types of writers.

“this plot has been in my head for 10 years and finally it’s perfect.”

“what if frogs had a secret government?”

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I think John ‘Soap’ MacTavish the kind of guy to sleep without a blanket most nights. Now, if you’re sleeping without a blanket EVERY night, you have psychological problems.

You’ll walk into John’s room needing something or just wanting to talk to him. He’ll be fast asleep in bed, sprawled out without a blanket.

You’ll look at that and think “wow, he forgot a blanket” so you’ll see the one at the end of his bed, drape it over him and leave for a few minutes

You come back, the blanket is nearly folded and he is back to sleeping like he’s in hibernation.

Author speaking: hi! Hello! It’s been a hot minute, hasn’t it? Happy pretty late new year, hopefully y’all’s have been swell🎀 Sorry for going offline for a while, lots of stuff been going on. It’ll happen again. Got this idea at 155am and needed to write it before officially falling asleep!