#Chip Noggins

[ghoststudios-art-page]

Trying to trick myself into doing Archie art stuff for Greendale yearbook, this is what I normally do, just, oodles of doodles.

I'm also forcing myself to draw the gang more, as I feel like I just draw Jug and that's not fair to the other.

(Of course I drew Archie being a perv, but, ya gotta, as he is one.

But it's funny because his actual ma is in the first drawing he got hit in the head with a basketball)

Long list of name in tags, if they didn't have a canon last name I'm added one in (an replacing one because it's so basic)

[eueclid]

gm

[eepyghost]

cursed fic/novel/etc ideas i've had recently

astarion from bg3 being the fallen god of the celestial who's cursed to the mortal plane. he meets some Loser named peter sqloint. they go on adventures trying to find astarion's way back to the immortal plane. sexual tension ensues.

generation loss but in novel format (idk)

apotheosis trio but they're college - aged students in the late 70's and they're all gay/mentally ill

joel (tlou) running into his high school sweetheart in the middle of the apocalypse, learns to love again

rai x astarion don't TOUCH me (i'm honestly geeked over astarion lore sorry)

tattoo artist transmasc chip

apotheosis heartstopper au (rumi is nick and peter is charlie)

a-list celebrity actress enid sinclair playing the main role in the film adaptation of wednesday addams' novel. they meet. they kiss.

[scaly-freaks]

May your knife chip and shatter

Not me having ill wished on me unprovoked.

[jhsharman]

"Now you See Her, Now You Don't"

Whatever extra fabric is lying around to stitch on, I guess.

[puckinghischier]

Gameday!Nico Headcanons

just some more noggin thoughts while watching the game tonight 🤭

~

- gameday!nico who always asks for you to make him chocolate chip pancakes after morning skate because he claims it makes him fall asleep easier for his post-practice nap, but you think it’s really just because he wants an excuse to spend a bit more time with you before games and he knows they’re your favorite

- gameday!nico who always asks you to pick out his suit for arrival for him because he knows you’ll save every picture that’s posted of him, and also share them to your various social media stories, so he wants to look good in them for you

- gameday!nico who lets you come up with his celly each night, no matter how silly, because he knows you love posting his goals on your story and coming up with names for his various cellys throughout the season

- gameday!nico who forces the team to always act surprised when you show up to the arena with coffees and bakery treats for everyone after morning skate, even though you do it at least every other home game because he knows how much you love surprising people

- gameday!nico who only gets in fights when the opposing team’s players decide they want to include you in their chirps, knowing you’ll be mad at him for engaging, but he also can’t let anyone get away with thinking it’s okay to talk about his girl in any way that isn’t explicitly positive

- gameday!nico who calls you in-between warm ups and puck drop every game, even if you’re in the arena with him, because he needs to hear you say your usual “good luck, neeks. i’ll be cheering the loudest, you just gotta listen for me” or he won’t be able to play without thinking about how he didn’t get to hear your voice before hitting the ice

- gameday!nico who lets you write little messages on his stick before games so if he’s feeling discouraged during a game he can just look down and know that you’re proud of him no matter what, giving him a second wind to finish the game with everything he’s got

- gameday!nico who loves nothing more than walking out of the locker rooms at the end of the night, win or lose, to you standing there waiting on him with a big smile on your face, wrapping him in a hug and whispering in his ear how proud you are of him

- gameday!nico who looks forward to warm-ups every home game because he can’t wait to see what sign you bring that night. whether it’s a cheesy pick up line, a knock-knock joke, or simply an ‘i love you’, he loves to see what you’ve come up with.

- gameday!nico who loves to chuck a few pucks over the glass where you’re standing so you can hand them out to the fans that weren’t early enough to snag a spot on the glass for warm-ups

- gameday!nico who doubles over in laughter on the ice when he sees you on the big screen, flashing the silly etsy t-shirt you’re wearing with his face plastered all over it to everyone in the rock

- gameday!nico who comes home after any game you couldn’t attend and asks you, like an excited little kid, if you saw his goals and all the great plays he made that night. when you tell him yes he launches into a complete retelling of the game while you lay with him and gently stroke your fingers through his still wet hair, both of you wondering how you got so lucky to be able to come home to one another every night

[dr1lldash]

venture x medic!reader 1.4k, pure fluff (pls note i have not written in years and wrote this in like an hour bc i cannot stop thinking about them) (part two)

You met Sloan on a dig in Cairo. You were a medic, which was a relatively easy job with the Wayfinders. The dozen or so crew members were usually careful, the keyword being usually.

You were sitting in your tent, triple checking your supplies when you heard footsteps rapidly approaching. You barely had time to turn to the tent flap when it was whipped open.

“I’m fine, I swear!” someone protests as they’re pushed inside. “It’s just a little bump on the noggin!”

“Sloan, you passed out for almost a minute. You can come back as soon as (Y/N) gives you the all-clear, but not until then. If it’s really just a little bump, you’ll be back before the end of the day.” You recognize Carrie’s voice, but not the person she’s talking to.

“This stinks,” they mutter, kicking at the ground before looking up at you. You only had a moment to look closer at them, noticing a bruise forming on their forehead underneath a mop of curly, dark brown hair. One of their thick eyebrows is pierced, and it was slightly swollen. They look back at you for a second, unblinking, before wiping some dirt off of their face. “Uh, hi! I’m Sloan.” They stuck a hand out at you.

You look at their hand, covered in dirt, but shake it anyway. “(Y/N),” you respond. “Are you hurt?”

“No!” they insist. “I mean, I fell a little bit. But not that far! My head barely even hurts!” Your eyebrows narrow slightly in worry. You reach out and touch their forehead, barely brushing up against it, and they wince and pull back.

“This doesn’t look good,” you tell them. “Can you sit for a minute?” Sloan does as you say, almost onto the cot behind them. You turn around to grab an ice pack and some painkillers, and they look around the tent.

“It’s pretty nice in here,” they say, more thinking out loud than talking to you. “It gets so hot outside.”

“I can’t imagine that coat keeps you cool,” you respond, handing them some pills and a bottle of water. You hold the ice pack to their forehead. They wince again, but don’t pull away this time.

“No, but I’m not really outside that much. Once you’re a few meters in the dirt, it gets freezing.” They pop the pills into their mouth and swallow them with a swig of water. “Can I go back now?”

“I need to make sure you’re not concussed.” They pout slightly, letting out a sigh. “It won’t take long, I swear.”

“Okay, okay,” they concede. You ask them about symptoms, and they tell you that they’re not nauseous, lightheaded, or tired, but their head is pounding a little bit, which is to be expected from the size of the bruise that is slowly but surely still forming. Their loss of consciousness concerns you, and you have them lay down for a minute.

  “Did you eat breakfast?”

“I had a granola bar.” They pause. “Well, it was a cereal bar, technically, but it’s the same thing, right?”

“Uh, not really, but at least you got food in your stomach.” You check in your cabinet, and pull out a bag of beef jerky. “Can you eat?”

“Ooh, yeah!” They happily take the bag from you, and start munching. “Do you always have snacks in here?”

“Of course, you’d be surprised how many people don’t notice they’re hungry til they’re about to pass out.” The two of you chat about different things while they work through the bag, and when they’re done, they finish their bottle of water.

“So, am I okay to get back now?” You check the time on your watch, about an hour has passed since they came into your tent and they still seem fine.

“Yeah, but come back if you feel nauseous or anything, okay?”

“Uh-huh!” They swing themselves around so their legs are dangling off the cot before dropping to the ground. “I swear.”

“Alright.” You smile at them. “Be safe.”

They flash you a chipped-tooth grin back. “I always am! Well, usually. Bye!” They wave at you as they walk out of your tent.

You don’t see them for the rest of the day, so you assume they’re fine. The next day, however, they’re back in your tent as the sun is setting.

“Sloan, are you okay?” You’re worried as soon as they enter, but they flash you that grin again.

“Yeah, I just thought you’d miss me.” You can’t help but smile at them. “Plus, the bruise is kind of killing me. Can I have some painkillers?” You glance at their forehead, and their bruise is turning a deep purple. It’s normal, it should be expected, but it doesn’t look comfortable, especially with their goggles pressing on it.

“Of course, but you shouldn’t take them on an empty stomach.”

You turn to grab painkillers and a granola bar for them, but before you can, they ask, “So we should grab dinner?” You’re not sure why you’re slightly surprised, but you agree. So you can make sure they’re not having any concussion symptoms, of course.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You beam at them. You hand them the painkillers and the two of you walk out of your tent, towards the bonfire next to where the kitchen staff have set up. You tell them to sit as you grab plates full of food for the both of you, and by the time you get back to them, they’re twiddling their thumbs and watching the fire.

“Thank you!” They grin up at you as you hand them their plate, quickly digging in. They bounce their leg ever so slightly as they eat, leaving the two of you in a comfortable silence. You can hear the conversations of the rest of the crew around you, more murmurs than anything else. When the two of you are done eating, Sloan takes your plates back to the kitchen staff to be washed. You sit, looking at the slowly dying fire, and you’re slightly surprised when they come back to sit with you.

“Do you like ice cream?” You’re not sure what you expected to come out of their mouth, but it isn’t that. “I asked the kitchen staff to keep some safe for me, and I wanna share. I-if you want it, of course.”

The heat in Cairo has been getting to you the past several days, and even though the night was cold, the heat from the bonfire leaves you sweating. “That sounds perfect right now.” They stand up, holding a hand out to you.

“Follow me!” You take their hand, following them as they practically run to the kitchen staff’s trailer. You’ve been inside a few times, only to restock on water and snack foods, but Sloan seems to know where everything is. They grab bowls and spoons before dishing out a generous serving of vanilla ice cream. “I would usually bring a couple flavors, but they told me they didn’t have room this time.”

Sloan hands one of the bowls to you, digging into their own as soon as their hand is free. “Ugh, this is so good,” they practically moan. You take a spoonful, letting the cream melt in your mouth before swallowing it.

“I honestly can’t remember the last time I had plain vanilla.”

“What? But it’s the best flavor!”

You shake your head. “Strawberry.”

They tilt their head from side to side like a see-saw. “Hm, okay, I’ll concede to strawberry. Rocky road, too.”

“It’s been years since I had rocky road.”

“I’ll get you some once we’re done with the expedition.” They freeze as they bring their spoon up to their mouth. “I mean, if you want to. And if you can. I don’t want to assume -”

You interrupt them. “That sounds great, Sloan.” They continue eating their ice cream, a content smile on their face as a soft blush spreads on their cheeks.

“It’s a date,” they mutter. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it, but you’re glad you did. Once the two of you finish your ice cream, they clean the bowls and spoons and put them away.

They take you back to your tent, the two of you being as quiet as possible. You’re not sure how much time had passed, but it seems like everyone else had already gone to bed. They grab your hand and squeeze it for just a second, smiling warmly as they wish you goodnight.

When you crawl into your sleeping bag, there’s a smile that won’t fade and a warm feeling in your stomach.

[shares-a-vest]

"One piping hot cocoa," Wayne announces, setting an Indy 500 mug in front of Eddie, "Extra cocoa."

The boy is sitting at the kitchen island, drawing and taking up what little space is left on the countertop with his tools. He's been sitting there for a good hour now, working on some of his fantasy drawings.

Wayne wants to tell him the dragon he is working on is getting pretty good - quite realistic compared to the wibbly line work he'd started with when he first came to live with him two years back. But he doesn't say anything, just stirring his coffee a moment longer than necessary.

Eddie places his free hand around the mug handle and Wayne stills, hoping the boy will at least stop to take a sip and save himself from a spillage.

"Thanks, Dad," Eddie mumbles, moving the mug a little too close to the paper's edge.

They both pause.

Eddie mid-pencil stroke, Wayne mid-sip.

The boy sets the pencil down and grumbles at the purple streak now painted clean across the dragon, ruining its brilliant sunset-like shades of red, orange and yellow. Wayne tilts his head. He thinks his nephew might have intended to colour the eyes purple.

He also suspects his heart might have just skipped a beat – even if he isn't too sure how he feels about the cause of the awkward silence they have fallen right into.

And their silence is never awkward. Just calm. Peaceful.

Wayne had always been that way anyway, but he'd made an effort when Eddie showed up two years ago, with a duffle bag of clothes, an armful of his favourite books and a beat-up old acoustic.

He wanted to give Eddie time, too. Let him be himself. Guide him without being too militant. Though, considering Eddie's boisterous age (the boy is now twelve – where in the world does the time go?), sometimes that's easier said than done.

But a purple streak ruining a sunset-coloured dragon seems a heck of a lot different.

"I... didn't..." Eddie stutters, scrunching the corner of his drawing in a fist, "I didn't mean that."

The kid scratches his head, brows wobbling and lip quivering as he runs his fingers over the hair, likely remembering he has no curls to twist worried fingers around just now.

Wayne braces a hand on the countertop, willing himself not to curse to the heavens over his own stupidity. A couple of months back, he'd made the downright asinine decision to allow his brother Al to take Eddie on a fishing trip. He was perfectly within his rights as the kid's father to do so.

Well, at least at the time, he was.

But Al rolling back into town with a suspiciously shiny car and Eddie sporting a buzzcut with disappointment in his eyes was the final straw.

He picks at the chipped Cubs logo on his own mug, mulling over the best place to start with this one. But Eddie slips off his stool and books it down the hall, firmly making the decision for him.

He sighs and slides the drawing closer. Turns out Eddie was working on adding details to the dragon's scales with the purple pencil.

Wayne gives it a full few minutes before he heads down to Eddie's room.

He opens the door to find his nephew lying flat on his back with his hood over his face and the drawstring pulled so tight that it only leaves room for a small breathing hole.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he moves to sit by the edge of the bed. Eddie pointedly folds his arms.

"What's going on in that noggin, kid?" he asks, leaning towards the hooded form, "If it hasn't been swallowed up into a fabric void, that is..."

Eddie stills for a moment before puffing out a laboured breath.

"I didn't mean it," he says after a long silence, "Freudian Slip."

"Eddie, you know I haven’t the foggiest what that one means."

Even though Eddie reads a lot of books, Wayne still doesn't know how his nephew comes up with half the stuff he says. Eddie groans and paws away at the tight drawstring. He starts to really struggle with it so Wayne reaches over to help.

"There you are," he says, smiling once he gets the thing untangled and open.

"It doesn't matter," Eddie gripes, waving a dismissive hand before letting it fall back against his chest.

Wayne looks around. Eddie must have tidied his room yesterday judging by the empty laundry basket – even if he didn't place the thing back in the hallway.

He's a good kid.

Wayne pinches his nose, hoping that the prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes will go. He looks down and instead focuses on his striped socks, a pair Eddie gifted him last Christmas that he saves for Sunday afternoons.

"You can call me 'dad' if you want," he finally offers.

"I don't," Eddie bites back.

The first feeling out in the kitchen might have been a hearty thud of his rusty old heartstrings, but this one stings. Wayne nods a little more curtly than he'd hoped.

Eddie huffs and scrubs a hand over his face.

"I don't mean... gah!" he babbles incoherently for a moment like he does when he is frustrated beyond words and trying to mind his manners, "All I mean is, the guy I call 'dad' – or I'm supposed to – sucks. So – to me – the word doesn't mean all that much. And you aren't like him at all. Which is why I didn't mean it."

"I understand," Wayne nods.

He looks up to find his nephew teary-eyed. Eddie used to wail away as a toddler, running around with all his big feelings. But over the last few years, with everything that happened with his parents and now living here, Eddie has struggled to express himself beyond frustration and acid-tongued anger.

Though, as he wipes his eyes, that might be changing. Just a little.

"Any plans for this afternoon?" he wonders aloud, patting Eddie's knee and catching on a dang tear in his jeans.

Eddie shrugs, "Might go practice with the band."

"Ah yes," he smiles, "The talent show."

"We are going into battle," Eddie clarifies, enunciating every syllable with the faintest smile.

"And I expect an invitation to come see your performance, regardless of what that flyer over there calls the thing."

He points to the school's Talent Show flyer Eddie has had pinned to his bedroom wall since the start of the school year.

"Sure thing, Old Man," Eddie says.

"Hey now," Wayne chuckles, "I'm going to draw the line with some other choice terms of endearment, y'know?"

Eddie scrambles to the edge of the bed, a cheeky grin stretching across his face.

"Maybe we should discuss this further over some cold cocoa."

[aseriesofunfortunatejan]

(Masterpost)

Rules: - Vote for one of these two characters based on who you personally think should win. It can be anything from "I follow aseriesofunfortunatejan and she talks about this character way more" to "I know this guy and not the other guy" passing by "who are these? This one's hotter" and of course "holy shit this is ALSO my blorbo" - You may reblog this poll and you may even talk about why you voted for who you voted! - You may NOT complain about the other character if you dislike them! These characters are all the poll runner's beloveds and the goal of this tournament is to have fun, be silly, be nice, eat hot chip.

Since this is the last round, you are heavily encouraged to write public propaganda for who you think should win!

Introductions and propaganda (under the cut):

Sebastian Debeste (Yumihiko Ichiyanagi) is a beloved loser from the second title in the Ace Attorney Investigations series. Should he win because he is, after all, "debeste"? Or would it be more in-character to... pathetically... fail...? I love Sebastian to bits and there's a reason why I'm not the only one. My followers may be familiar with his noggin because I drew him a bunch in the past, during an event called SEBtember centred around him. He is touching and iconic. Does this mean he should win my blorbo tournament?

Korekiyo Shinguuji is a staple of my blog. It hasn't happened in a while, but two of my character essays get recognised in the wild - my first Shinguuji essay and my "in defence of Mika Shimotsuki" essay. (But yous voted Shimotsuki out, so that probably doesn't hold a lot of weight.) If you've followed me for a while, you've probably seen a few of my "oh no. I thought about Shinguuji." posts in your lifetime. I don't know why he eats at me like this. I hear he's a little fucked up, actually, but that's just a rumour. Wasn't he reformed and a teacher now anyway? (/ref). Danganronpa is also a fandom I am known for, so that could influence your vote. (Do I have a tulpa?) Anyway, does all of this mean he should win my blorbo tournament?

It finally comes down to this... I'm so relieved it's not Sebastian VS Simon. Danganronpa VS Ace Attorney. Story of my life. I feel like I already know who's going to win. But both of these characters have stans. Will this poll in particular find its audience?

If you love one or both of these characters, I'd be happy to talk about them with you!

[angriel]

Eywa's Chance: Deja Vu? pt.2

Warning: Widowed! Jake Sully, Warrior! Reader, Sexual Themes (will put signs), Angst, Absolutely Ass Writing, 17+, Violence, War, Chaos, Peace. Skypeople reader, Jake x Reader

@fluloa

"Found You Bitch"

Jake Hissed (Y/N) gasped as the air was knocked out of her lungs, she tried to break free from the hold of her enemy but it was unsuccessful and it only made it brought the knife closer on her neck.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you baby girl" Jake threatened. (Y/n) Surrendered and stopped struggling as if she accepted her own fate dying at the hands of the kind she loved. She breathed one last time and closed her eyes expecting for her attacker to end her but she waited and waited but she doesn't feel the pain of being stabbed.

"Pxasìk! (Screw it) Are you gonna fucking kill me or not? cause if you do just do it!" She Taunted him not failing to show her bravery infront of Jake. but she saw Wood sprites coming towards her. Jake let her go and watched as it lands on her head and arms and all over her body.

"A sign from Eywa" Jake mumbles as he stares at her. (Y/N) wonders why the Atokirina' is coming to her but regardless the mysterious reason she thanked Eywa that she saves her by sending them.

"Go to my tent, it's an emergency Norm. Go NOW" Jake ordered Norm through the transmitter, as soon as he was done contacting norm the Wood Sprites let go of (Y/N) and she watched them disappear in the sky.

"well this is awkward" she said, Jake ignored her and called his ikran, it came infront of him and he pets it. He connects his Tsaheylu and mounted his Ikran "So you're gonna leave me after evreything you've fucking done?" (Y/N) Screamed.

Jake laughed teasingly "Come on sweetheart we've got a lot of things to talk to" He said as he extended his hands towards her. (Y/n) Scoffed as she took his hands and he guided her to sit on his ikran. Without saying anything he took off not giving a moment for (Y/n) to secure himself.

And because of this (Y/n) had no choice but to wrapped her arms around him tightly "Fuck you! You're a fucking asshole bitch! You "skxawng" (Stupid) Jake laughed and flied faster while you're screaming at the top of your lungs, you only stopped because you saw the Pandora from above and it fascinated you.

(Y/n) didn't know how much time has passed since you two were flying but you saw the Legendary Flying rocks A.K.A The Hallelujah Mountains Jake turned into a narrowed rocks and landed on a campsite. Almost immediately a crowd of Na'vi surrounded the two of you.

"Fuck Jake! Why the did you bring her to our camp site?!" Norm shrieked at the sight of you. "Do the tests on her and we'll talk" Jake said while he was walking towards the healers tent. Norm Sighed and he turns to you.

"Hello there I'm Norm, Norm Spellman and yours is?" Norm introduced himself as he extended his arms towards her. (Y/n) smiled and took his arms "Kaltxi Oeru syaw (Y/n), smon niprrte'" (Y/n) said while shaking his hand.

"And Fluent to Na'vi. you could use some improvement to your pronounciations but you're good!" Norm rambled, (Y/n) rolled her eyes and scoffed while mumbling "yeah sure whatever."

"We need to do some tests on you is that okay?" He asked you and expecting your confirmation. You raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms to your chest while staring at him.

"Don't worry we're not gonna do some freaky things to you like stabbing you and shit" He raised his arms defensively. You sighed and said "I don't have any choice do I?" You said, he nodded "Fine" he smiled at you and guided you to Jake's tent.

There you saw a Human Scientist, he looked at you and waved. "Hi there I'm Max and I'm the one who's mainly gonna do some check ups on ya. Including testing if you have a tracking chip in your noggins." He enthustiastically said.

Jake Found Mo'at and greeted her. "I know you brought her here sully, tell me, why did you do it?" Mo'at asked him while she's grinding herbs.

"I was gonna kill her, but there was a sign from Eywa" Jake said. Mo'at suddenly stopped and looked at Jake, she laughed bitterly remembering her late daughter Neytiri saying the same thing when she first brought Jake to the home tree.

"Do you not feel Deja Vu Jake Sully?" Mo'at asked, He suddenly tensed up as his bittersweet memory came and replay on his mind. He went silent and was about to go out of the tent when he said "I'm sure Neytiri and her father is together now, you should visit him he's asking me about you." Jake then checked The dreamwalker on his tent.

Just as he was about to go in, Norm and Max went out. They greeted him and he greeted back "No chips anywhere on her body, her avatar's normal" Max said. Jake nodded and thanked him for his services as well as norm and the duo went out to continue their research.

Jake went in and saw (Y/n) "Get up and come with me" He ordered her and went out again to the center of the camp, you obliged and saw the Na'vi's staring at you and shouting. You followed him towards the center and you were shocked when he went up the throne.

(Italized in Na'vi)

"This is the sky walker we've spotted near our sacred place" Jake said to the people. Many Hissed at you and many shouted some unknown Na'vi words at you. You shrinked at your spot as you feel their hatred towards you.

"But! Eywa gave me a sign. And I decided to take her in, from now on Mo'at will lead our people. While I teach her how to live like us." He announced displaying his powerful status.

You looked down and thought how you fucked up cursing the Olo'eyktan of the Omaticayan people. Then you suddenly stared at his hands and you noticed that he has 5 fingers like you do unlike the native Na'vi who has 4 fingers.

You suddenly realized that he was Jake Sully. The one who betrayed humanity, the 1st dreamwalker that became one of the people, and your crush. You blushed from the sudden realization, not noticing Jake's stares at you. And you pray to Eywa that he does not see the darker blue tint from your cheek.

Jake left the throne and made his way from the tent. He can't help but to think about what his mate said to him, is it possible that Neytiri pleaded for Eywa to give him a new mate? He felt his head aches and he touched it with his hand.

"hey" (Y/n) greets. Jake turned around and saw her and wondered why she was in his tent, he raised his eyebrow at her as gesturing what she wants. She looks at the ground sighing and finally asking him "what did you say earlier?".

"I'm gonna teach you our ways, as Eywa gave me a sign" Jake said in his deep monotone voice. She gasped and fake coughed and said "I see... Are you also perhaps the -" Jake cut her sentence off by saying "Olo'eyktan? Yes and I'll assume you already know my name?" (Y/n) nodded and looked at his eyes.

"is that it?" Jake asked her, (Y/n) said yes. "We'll start tomorrow at the morning. As soon as the sun shines, don't be late or I'll kill you" Jake threatened her. Before leaving the tent (Y/n) said "I'm (Y/n) figured i'll introduce myself so you know who you're acting like a dick with." She left his tent while mumbling the words of how mean he was and how much of an asshole he is.

Jake clicked his tongue behind his teeth and prepared his armor. He left his tent and called for Norm to guide (Y/n) to her tent which is right next to his. As soon as he was done with it he called for his ikran and went to the Tree of Souls.

Jake dismounted his ikran and immediately connected his Tsaheylu on a strand of the tree. He saw his beloved once again standing and waiting for him. Before he talks Neytiri cut him off by cupping her hands on his face and leaned her forehead to his.

"Ma Jake, Eywa will not let you see me anymore. This is our last meeting, you will see me until the right time. "Kiyevame Ma Jake, Eywa Ngahu" Neytiri said not trying to hide the sadness she's feeling. after a short while she lets him go.

"Wha-, What do you mean? No Baby please? Nga Yawne Lu Oer! Please comeback! Don't! " Jake pleaded but Neytiri keot walking towards the mists and Jake's Tsaheylu disconnected from the strand.

He screamed in Anguish and wept in front of Eywa not caring if anyone will see him. He mounted his ikran and went straight to his tent, clutching Neytiri's songchord close to him and for the first time in the year Jake have finally gotten the rest he deserves.

But there's one thing that bothers him besides the recent events. he can't shook the feeling of

DEJA VU

Kaltxi Oeru syaw (Y/n), smon niprrte'

Hi I'm Called (Y/N), Pleased to meet you

Kiyevame Ma Jake, Eywa Ngahu

See you soon My Jake, May eywa be with you

Nga Yawne Lu Oer!

You're beloved to me (I love you)

Chapter 3 is out!

[beanibon]

Helloo, i really like your writing and how you write characters. I was wondering if you could do a wolfwood x flirty, vulgar gn-reader. They are silly and carefree but have vulgar humor and love teasing and taunting

We love reader that can just match WWs energy, maybe even fluster the guy.

TW: not many just some vulgar language, maybe an ass slap or two.

Nicholas had really bitten more than he could chew. You were wild, had mouth that rivalled a sailors, and wouldn't stop directing lewd comments towards him. Not that he minded, but if he pushed too far, you'd always have him choking on his words, unable to fire something cocky back.

You had him beat, and how Nicholas loved you for that.

"Sorry daddy, I've been bad?" Nicholas groaned, fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose. He knew this was on purpose, that you were just trying to get a reaction.

"{Name}, you've come to me for repentance, at least that's what I assumed when you said to me 'I need to ask for forgiveness'." You had the biggest grin on your face, attempting yet failing to contain your laughter. Once again Nicholas fell for your immature behaviour, lifting the Punisher over his shoulder and walking off.

That damn smile drove him mad, you'd always have it plastered to your face the moment he fell for something you said. And by God himself, it was addictive.

"Oh C'mon Wolfwood! You have to admit it was a little funny!" You followed him, engraving that expression forever in your mind.

"The kind of funny like when you asked if what I had been carrying was heavy, only to proceed to use your hands as a 'bra'?" Laughter echoed throughout the empty desert, forgetting that you'd done that

"I heard bigger chests can lead to back pain, you need proper support for those bad boys." God he needed a cold glass of whiskey.

He was going to suffer for another few gruelling days, the next town still quite a distance away. Nicholas adored you, he truly did, but your form of entertainment was nothing short of torturous.

"Kiss me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's Vash I see in the distance."

Instantly Nicholas looked up, only to be met with nothing. He fell for it yet again...

"Nope, looks like that's just a funny shaped rock, looks like imma need a pair of glasses and that kiss." You said shamelessly, awaiting your award when Nicholas sighed in frustration.

"{Name}, I love you, but please can you stop trying to give me a heart attack." The last thing he needs right now is that Needle Noggin showing up, the stress was already unbearable.

You didn't answer, verbally, your hand swung forward to slap Nicholas right on the ass. His body jolted, stumbling as his face lit up furious red.

"Oops," Came your unapologetic, flirtatiously teasing voice, eyes batting in mock innocence. "Sorry Wolfwood, there was mosquito."

Two more days.

Two days until he reached the next town. He could do it, that drink will be waiting for him and perhaps you'd finally calm in your constant teasings, return to that sweet individual you'd been for days.

Nicholas rubbed his face, praying for his mind to stay focused, only to see that same innocent face staring at his hunched over form. Your head tilted so innocently, smiling as you jumped up and placed a quick kiss to his lips, turning on your heels to walk ahead.

You'd be the death of him, showering him in teasing affections, a myriad of vulgar flirtatious comments shot at him. He swore your favourite pass time was embarrassing him, chipping away at his overconfidence.

He loved and hated you for it.

[delopsia]

del 🌼🍰🩷🌷💓 (i’ll let you decide if you’d like to include why or any headcanon-y tidbits that pop into your lovely noggin) 💐 but if you had to assign one for each man (hawthorn au rhett & robby)…

hotdog / hamburger 

pancakes / waffles (or a secret third thing, french toast)

onion rings / french fries

milkshake / soda float 

autumn / spring

cake / pie

usually in a hat / almost never in a hat (cowboy or ballcap)

chocolate flavored treat / fruit flavored treat

cats / dogs

most likely to text / most likely to call

(in the event of needing only one vehicle) who’s driving / who’s riding shotgun

big spoon / little spoon

Omg hello 🌷🍓💕

hotdog / hamburger Bobby is absolutely a hotdog kind of guy; he's the primary reason they appear at every Dagger Cookout. He can find Hamburgers near every fast food chain, so when he gets the chance, he'll absolutely go for a hotdog, but that's only if they're pan-fried or off the grill. They've gotta be a little bit charred.

Rhett loves to give him trouble for the amount of toppings he'll put on them, too. It's a remnant from when he was in college; his momma got him one of those indoor grills, and the only thing he could really afford to grill was hotdogs. At some point, he got bored of the flavor and learned to experiment 🌭

Rhett is the hamburger guy; it's just something he's learned to appreciate after a lifetime of raising beef cattle. He's pretty damn good at finding the good stuff, too, and fortunately enough, he's decently handy at operating a grill. It's the one thing he can cook, and he's damn proud of it.

pancakes / waffles (or a secret third thing, french toast) Rhett's heavily on the side of waffles; he likes that they're crispier than pancakes. Sometimes, he'll add chocolate chips or eat 'em plain without syrup; it depends on what he's craving.

Bob though? Die-hard french toast lover. Especially when he can add berries to them. Strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, together or individually. He'll even add some banana every now and then. Momma Floyd used to make them every Saturday morning, and they never fail to take him right back to his childhood.

Until Rhett drives by and steals a bite, at least.

onion rings / french fries A part of me likes to reckon that Rhett was the french fry lover until Bob finally convinced him to give them a second try. Come to find out, not every onion ring tastes like the vile ones he got from that Wabang gas station. Now you've got to beat him back with a broom to keep him from stealing one or three.

milkshake / soda float  Bobby adores his milkshakes, especially if there's a cherry involved 🤍 but he's been known to lean over and steal some of Rhett's beloved rootbeer float every now and again.

autumn / spring Rhett's an autumn soul. It's the prime season of his favorite sport, that time of year when his flannel and jeans aren't too hot or too cold. He's been known to come in with a leaf clinging to the brim of his hat as well 🍁

Bobby is spring. His allergies absolutely hate the season to its core, but he loves to venture out and see all the new flowers. You've gotta be careful with him because he'll go out and buy a bunch of flowers to plant in the garden, and he'll be sick before he's even got them out of the truck 🌷

cake / pie Pie and cake is a funny thing in this house. Rhett adores ice cream cake, but if it's not that, then he'll tell you that he likes pie (it's because Bobby makes them). Robby enjoys both, but he leans toward fruit-flavored pies. Now if you pull out a cake with fruit in/on it...

usually in a hat / almost never in a hat. Rhett has to be pried out of his hat; it's a little bit ridiculous. He's so used to needing one around the ranch that he just? Doesn't? Know how to act without one? He feels naked if he steps outside without one. And then there are the days when he's so tired that he walks into the house and forgets to take it off...

Bob isn't a fan of wearing them because they tend to mess up his hair, but sometimes Rhett will notice him squinting in the sunlight and offers up a spare. However, he isn't above stealing Rhett's cowboy hat in the privacy of their own home. Sometimes, Rhett will be sitting on the couch, and he'll see his own hat pass by in the corner of his eye.

chocolate flavored treat / fruit flavored treat Fruit and Bobby go together way too well; if the name mentions fruit, then he's more than likely gonna reach for it. Rhett? Cannot be separated from chocolate. Cheap, expensive, obscure, it doesn't matter. Their tastes collide for chocolate covered fruits 🍓

cats / dogs Cats are universally loved, but Bob is the true cat guy. He can walk into a room, and every cat in the vicinity will wind up in his lap. Likewise, Rhett can take a nap in the barn and more often than not, wakes up to a barn kitty on his chest. But he's truly a dog person; he's found half a dozen strays and converted them to ranch puppies.

most likely to text / most likely to call Bob is the texter. He's not all that great at filling the silence during phone calls. He just can't think of anything to say, you know? Unfortunately for him, Rhett has big thumbs and sometimes struggles to type on that tiny little screen, so he just calls without warning.

who’s driving / who’s riding shotgun Rhett loves to be the driver, given that he's in a semi-rural area/not in a city. The winding roads unravel all the worries that have collected up in his head. Robby loves riding shotgun; getting to lay back and gaze out the window is one of his favorite parts of being in the truck. There are so many things you don't notice when you're doing the driving! But he will get motion-sick if you put him in the backseat, so his riding options are somewhat limited.

big spoon / little spoon Big spoon Bobby! It's his favorite thing. He doesn't get to feel "big" a lot in his life, he's never been noticeably muscular or had a presence that fills the room before he enters. In fact, he didn't experience it a whole lot until Rhett and Reader wandered into his life.

He's obsessed with the feeling it gives him, like a pillar in the wind, warding off anything that could ever hurt whoever is snuggled into his arms. Rhett, in particular, triggers a sort of protectiveness Bob didn't realize he had. This massive, tough-as-nails cowboy trusts him this much? Ugh.

Likewise, Rhett adores being able to exchange his strength for vulnerability. It's nice to feel protected, especially when he's spent so much of his life being the protector. He's funny when he gets to fall into that role because he loves to snuggle his head over Bob/Reader's chin. He can and will fall asleep like that. Rough and tumble cowboy by day and oversized cuddle bug by night?

[yakool-foolio]

Do you plan on making fanfics?

I actually have made a few already! Currently, I have three short fics uploaded to Ao3: A Letter To My Beloathed; A Chime For Your Troubles; Like The Wind, You Came Running. Granted, two of these were made as gifts, but I'm still very proud of them and happy that not only the gifts' recipients enjoy them! I do have a handful of ditties (super short stories) and unfinished WIPs under my belt as well, which I'll be eventually compiling into a single work on Ao3.

I'd also love to write more one-shot fics in the coming months! I've got plenty of ideas stored in my noggin, but I just have to find the time and motivation between the college semester to write and flesh them all out.

The fic I've been chipping away at since *glances at last year's calendar* September 18th is the narrative introduction to my Death Knight Yakou AU. 2,323 words in and a whole lot more to go! It's definitely going to be my biggest written work for Rain Code (or hell maybe anything I've set out to write as someone who sticks to writing short stories), and that isn't even considering how much more I'd like to write out as a full narrative for this AU. I probably won't write out everything for the AU since there will be some moments that don't change much or don't really add to the story I'm trying to tell (which will mostly be stuff involving the Mystery Labyrinths since a lotta the mysteries are almost the same and I'm just not good at writing mysteries in general). It's a huge endeavor, but I'd like to write a fully fleshed out story for this AU since I've been so dedicated to expanding upon it as much as possible in asks alone! I really want this AU to thrive outside of my rambles, even if it's a long process. I may be the slowest writer in the world, but I'll persevere for my project!

[themswritinwords]

The Hundred Fifty Seven Deaths of the Immortal Ethan Ellis: Cast profiles: Ethan Ellis

The man himself (Ethan) - he/him; 24 years old biologically, 310 years old chronologically; Quietly Depressed Optimist in Desperate Need of a Hug and a Nap

Depressed, traumatized, self-sacrificial, dysfunctional, exhausted--what's not to relate to love?

Just woke up during his own autopsy. That's definitely not going to unearth any poorly-buried Issues!

What do you mean endless gallows humor and self deprecation aren't healthy coping mechanisms?

*slaps bruised and blood-stained noggin* This bad boy can fit so much mental illness and metaphor in him.

The result of a necromancer-wannabe's attempts at immortality; ex-human-guinea-pig with all of the attendant moral, philosophical, and psychological conundrums that come with death being a temporary condition.

One of three "successful" experiments. The other two adjusted pretty well, all things considered. Ethan did not.

Alas, they didn't have therapy in colonial America. You know what they did have, though? An abundance of dangerous life paths and causes worth dying for. That's not gonna reinforce any dangerous thought patterns or unhealthy mental states, I'm sure!

Longest streak between deaths has been just shy of 4 years. All but one of them has been his own dang fault. He is fully aware of this, but in a deeper sense, he is entirely unaware of this.

Always cared more about others than himself. This got infinitely worse when he realized he could die without consequences (supposedly).

Animals hate him! and no that is not just the start of a clickbait article. Every animal he's met since getting immortal'd has tried to put him back in the ground. He used to be a cat person, though.

Chronically friendless and self-isolated. People don't handle the dead guy coming back to life very well, and he's gotten more than one witness in life-ruining trouble by reviving in front of them. He finds it easier to just stay away from people on all but a surface level. (Again, I can't imagine that's going to cause problems down the line....)

Travels like an overripe peach, which is to say he is the King of Motion Sickness

Repeated resurrection has turned the man into a caloric dumpster. Over the course of a day and a half he consumes ~30 chicken nuggets, four burgers, a large fry, a medium bag of chips, a popsicle, and half a cup of ice and he's still desperately hungry.

Flip flops between annoying little brother energy and annoyed big brother energy depending on who he's arguing with at the time.

Wants: Everyone and Everything to leave him tf alone (also a shower)

Needs: One good reason to live and way fewer reasons to get himself killed

Immediate goals: Keep his only friends from getting dragged down with him and all his issues

Long term goals: None, and that's rather the point (not that this is a recurring theme in my characters or anything....)

Character arc can best be described as: that quote that's like "Dying is easy, living is hard;" the shift from hope, caring, and love as passive traits to hope, caring, and love as active choices worth making

Favorite things about writing him

The Catharsis. There's a reason so many of my OCs end up with mental illnesses and unhealthy patterns of thought. Ethan is just the most explicit of these self-inserts.

The snarcasm and humor were both challenging and so fun. I'm not a witty person by nature, so it took a bit of perspective shift to get right. I think I got better a dialogue overall by writing him.

He's a very internal and thought-ful person, and it was an interesting balance to write. He always thinks more than he says and feels more than he thinks.

Not to toot my own horn, but his third act breakdown and "Oh Sh*t" moment were a delight to write and some of my strongest writing moments.

His voice is very informal and sarcastic, and it was fun to write genuine horror in a goofball, this-might-as-well-happen sort of way.

[libellule-ao3]

Life Links

13. Irma Pince/Inflexible

Summary: Irma Pince meets Argus Filch after reinforcing the protection around the Library.

A/N: This chapter was born from a discussion on AO3 with "another reader" to whom I dedicated this chapter.

Chapter index - previous chapter (Liz Tuttle)- Next chapter (Ben Copper)

Waving her wand in every aisle of the library, Madam Pince makes sure that every book, every grimoire, every scroll is in its proper place and protected by enchantments. Nothing must be forgotten.

If the Great Hall is the heart of Hogwarts, the library is the head. How many inventive, brilliant minds have polished the wood of the desks scattered between these high shelves rising to the ceiling? How many ideas and theories have been born from a journey through the pages of an old grimoire?

In this section, there on the left, are stored the school records of all the students who have built their minds at Hogwarts, from the most mediocre to the most brilliant. The most recent ones were written by Irma Pince. But value waits for no time. Each piece of writing in the library has its own value. Invaluable.

And ever since she took up her post, the Hogwarts librarian has jealously guarded her territory, where she maintains order, discipline and, above all, silence. Concentrated, barely disturbed by the delicate rustling of pages being turned.

Irma has never been appreciated by the pupils, who do not understand the special care that must be taken of the books they shamelessly chip, scribble and annotate. But she always thought fondly of the students who treated books with deference, such as Hermione Granger, Jacob Thorn and the late Rowan Khanna and Cedric Diggory.

As she approaches the door, she looks back at the place one last time, filled with memories. She tightens her grip on her wand and locks the heavy door. Then Irma casts various protective charms and enchants the stone bench nearby.

Madam Pince has always been good at enchanting objects. Generations of students can attest to this, as she rained school supplies down on their heads for breaking library rules.

The bench moves with the clumsy gait of a heavy piece of stone on legs until it stands in the way of the door to her Ali Baba's cave, which no "Sesame" will open.

The clash of offensive spells crashing against the protective shield surrounding the castle echoes in the darkness of the corridor. Feverishly, the librarian approaches a window and looks up. Each spell that explodes in multiple sparks against the magic shield creates concentric waves, like circles disturbing the surface of the water.

"Irma! Have you seen Peeves?" asks a gruff voice from behind her. "McGonagall sent me to find him."

The witch turns and sniffs disdainfully. This man with whom the librarian used to feel a bond of order and discipline now inspires nothing but contempt. Argus Filch has disappointed her. Twice.

The first time was when the caretaker sided with that horrible Dolores Umbridge. To make amends, Argus helped rearrange the restricted section by delicately carrying in his uncultured hands' grimoires containing more knowledge than his Squib noggin could comprehend.

The second was when he joined forces with these bloody Carrow. If the Ministry employee won his favour by offering him power in a school where his work is so disrespected, what excuse does he have for supporting people who have nothing to offer him but a future of suffering and contempt?

He has gone too far. Argus Filch may look at her with a look of tenderness that he usually reserves only for Mrs Norris. Irma remains inflexible.

The librarian has never been pretty. Her face is as dry as old parchment, her hooked nose gives her a profile of a carrion bird, and her lips constantly pursed in irritation give her that sour look that no one has ever found attractive. No one until Argus Filch. A squib, a man without magical powers, who abhorred the restlessness of the students - even more than she did - and who dared to admire her with the humility of old-fashioned courtesy. Her female heart was stirred. Hence the emergence of deep resentment. She allowed herself to be softened and drawn into a friendship with fuzzy edges... This is the result!

Under Snape's deleterious leadership, assisted by the Carrow, Argus Filch applied punishments from another time. Oh, he had not denied himself the pleasure of carrying out the threats he had been making for years. Drunk with illusory power and respect. He chained students to the dungeon, distributed the lashes, as Pomfrey distributed the ointments.

So, the witch reorganised the library. Irma highlighted books on basic healing charms, helped students concoct healing potions. She highlighted adventure novels so that tormented souls could escape, she helped with homework so that weak minds would develop critical thinking skills and not swallow the snakes that some wanted them to swallow. Irma fought with her weapons. With books, with knowledge. At first, only the Ravenclaws came to the library to find the peace they couldn't find elsewhere, soon joined by students from other houses under the leadership of Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. No one had a problem with it. Who would have had the audacity to accuse the library vulture of coddling the students?

But the time of the Death Eaters is over at Hogwarts.

"I heard him go by earlier, he was throwing chalk at the Slytherin students being taken to the dungeon... Whose side are you on this time, Argus?"

His hands tighten on the cat he's holding in his arms.

"Still the same, Irma,"

"Still the same?" This is no time for jokes!" she scolds sternly. "You’re a weathervane following the wind!"

"I have always served Hogwarts!" he defends himself huffily. "This is my home!"

"Then find Peeves and protect our home until there's nothing Voldemort can do to get you out of it except to take you out feet first!" orders Irma as she resumes her walk, determined to prevent the chaos from reaching this part of the castle.

"So there's no room for forgiveness, Irma?"

The witch stiffens, her face turning until she welds her sour gaze to the Squib's.

"This is more a time for alliances of circumstance than forgiveness, Argus!"

[aseriesofunfortunatejan]

(Masterpost)

Rules: - Vote for one of these two characters based on who you personally think should win. It can be anything from "I follow aseriesofunfortunatejan and she talks about this character way more" to "I know this guy and not the other guy" passing by "who are these? This one's hotter" and of course "holy shit this is ALSO my blorbo" - You may reblog this poll and you may even talk about why you voted for who you voted! - You may NOT complain about the other character if you dislike them! These characters are all the poll runner's beloveds and the goal of this tournament is to have fun, be silly, be nice, eat hot chip.

Introductions and updated propaganda (under the cut):

The end is near! Welcome to my second round of propaganda! If you wish to read my original propaganda for these characters - which I think you should, because it was great - please look through this tournament's tag on my blog.

Sebastian Debeste (Yumihiko Ichiyanagi) is a beloved loser from the second title in the Ace Attorney Investigations series. Should he win because he is, after all, "debeste"? Or would it be more in-character to... pathetically... fail...? I love Sebastian to bits and there's a reason why I'm not the only one. My followers may be familiar with his noggin because I drew him a bunch in the past, during an event called SEBtember centred around him. He is touching and iconic. Does this mean he should win my blorbo tournament?

Yoshikage Kira, specifically the one from Jojolion, because as much as well-meaning recommendation algorithms can't tell the difference, I can - is one of my two most recent blorbos on this list. It could be said that he is representative of my current taste in characters. He is most recognisable for being my current tumblr icon. Like I pointed out during the latest round, he is one of these very fashionable characters who haunt the narrative. Also, gay rights...? Does this mean he should win my blorbo tournament? （￣︶￣）↗　

(...I suddenly realise that I forgot to put Matt Engarde on this entire list? Is this why my followers aren't voting? Everyone has been going "where Matt" behind my back, is that it????? /j)

Anyway, Ace Attorney VS Jojo's Bizarre Adventure - fight.