#GO READ LITTLE SCRAPS

[quartergremlin]

i've been very sick, but Little Scraps of Wisdom has been keeping me company in my moments of lucidity

transcript:

Leo: I want to go naked!

Xander: why?

L: I'm a turtle.

X: He has a point...

[gleepatrol]

Wild to be finishing cometcare and seeing certain usernames in the asks. you either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain....

[l0ve-letter-4-u]

dumping AM thoughts in tags

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent life photos

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

pokemon partner headcanons for as much of the nfb cast as i can justify giving pokemon to. loosely inspired by this post by @chrswlls. and by 'inspired' i mean i was thinking abt a pokemon crossover in my own time and then i saw the post and then i said "oh well now i have to make my own post about it"

[MILD SPOILERS FOR DAY 296 AND BEYOND]

JEREMY has a male zigzagoon named Scout. Despite being his partner for a long time, Scout's never been much of a battler, so he's never evolved. His extra inquisitive nature and eye for sleuthing has made him the perfect partner for a flourishing news anchor, and Jeremy doubts he would have ever uncovered the Hamilton-Mann scandal if it wasn't for the help of his pokemon partner. Generally, he has a rather lax demeanor when he isn't snooping around for secrets, and tends to be as scruffy and personable as his trainer is.

JENNY has a female minccino named Gingersnap- or just Ginger for short. She first adopted her to have some company in her empty home after the death of her late partner. She was supposed to be a pokemon exclusively for home, but it turns out she's just as helpful at home as she is at Channel 1. Ginger is always astute, keeping an eye out for anything (or anyone) in need of tidying in between ad breaks and cutaways. She has a very sweet temperament, though normally won't leave her perch on Jenny's shoulder.

MEGAN has a female sneasel named Opal, who she took in a while after she gained notoriety as Channel 1's culture correspondent. If she's being honest, a part of her thought it would help bolster her popularity- maybe increase her chance at rising through the ranks of her career… Jeremy and Scout always made quite a pair, after all… Perhaps there was a method somewhere in there she could exploit. She doesn't really know if it worked or not, but she ended up growing quite attached to the sly little devil as time went on. It's unclear who's personality rubbed off on the other's first, but Opal acts quite like her trainer, able to switch from professional and demure to dangerously sharp at a moment's notice.

PATRICK has a male watchog he never gave a name to. Much like Scout is to Jeremy, Watchog is an astute observer that greatly helps Patrick out when he's on the field- be it during a Sportsboard game, or a more serious news related outing. The two of them end up bickering quite a bit, but when they really hone in on what they're focusing on, they can get some pretty significant work done. Watchog did his fair share of sleuthing on the Hamilton-Mann case as well- although Patrick tends to take the majority of the credit for it.

FRANCIS has a bidoof named Flapjack. Or, at least, he was named Flapjack... But after she was forced to assimilate Patrick's position after his disappearance, her pokemon partner had to do the same in Watchog's sudden absence. After a while, the two of them fall into the swing of things, but Flapjack was never really meant to be a work pokemon, let alone for the news of all things... He never really grows out of his sense of camera shyness the same way Patrick inevitably does.

ROBYN has a male midday lycanroc named Cadburry- or just Caddy, for short. Technically, he was the family dog, but out of all of her siblings, Caddy had the closest bond with her. He was her partner ever since he was a little rockruff- helping her to sniff out stories good enough to earn her position at the Swinstead Middle School Enquirer. He doesn't do as much sniffing now that he's older, but he's a great conversation starter, and a big help in luring in potential bystanders for public opinion interviews.

BOSEMAN has a female mabosstiff named Brutus. He didn't check to see what her gender was before he named her, and by the time he figured it out she wouldn't respond to anything else. She's a scruffy family pokemon he doesn't often bring with him to work. He needed something that wouldn't be too dangerous to leave at home- and especially something that wouldn't trample his daughter when he wasn't looking... She never hurt a hair on Petunia's head, though. The two of them are practically inseparable.

JULIA has a female bewear named Sherbert. They've known each other since Julia was a little girl, although she didn't evolve until a little while after she became Prime Minister. If you were to ask her, she would claim that a bewear is a perfect way to represent Advance's values; loving like a mother, powerful like a bear. For the most part, Sherbert upholds those values, and is rather docile and well behaved in public... Although those who don't trust Advance question whether or not there's any darker potential to owning such a powerful pokemon.

PETER currently has a male timburr named Chipper. He took him on a little after he started Just the Job, and the charismatic creature quickly became a mainstay on the show. He wasn't quite as vocal as Chizzel was, though, it was rather obvious he was more popular than him. He was always handy with a tool, a drink, or a bark of caution when sensitive equipment was getting too close to the edge of the table... And he always put Peter's tools in the exact spots he liked them best in.

... Peter used to have a different pokemon, though. A gorgeous mudsdale named Axel- raised it from a humble mudbray when he was younger. When he went to war, it came with him. Someway or another, it didn't survive the slaughter in Konislava... Peter doesn't like to talk about what exactly happened on that expedition- let alone the specifics regarding Axel. Some people think the toxic gas did him in. Others assumed he was simply shot amidst the chaos. Sometimes, rumors go around that he and Ivan ate the pokemon to escape starvation in that abandoned cellar. He really doesn't take kindly to those sorts of rumors...

ALAN has a natu named Pandora- though he doesn't have enough knowledge about birds to know whether its male or female. Generally, he has an extreme distrust of any and all psychic pokemon ("they're a psionic instrument wielded by the government to invade our minds"). Pandora, however, is his singular exception to this rule... How is he supposed to protect his mind from psychic assaults without a psychic pokemon? It's a give and take.

During routes where Jeremy dies during the Heatwave broadcast, it stays a natu for its entire life. However, when encountering Jeremy post his initial escape from Betterment, the raw potential he has to alter the course of the future is enough to force it to evolve into a xatu. Jeremy doesn't know enough about pokemon to know what that means but he has a feeling its. bad.

DAVE 'had' a rotom that went by many names. "Bastard", mainly. Sometimes "Bugger Off" and "Cut That Out". And when I say 'had', I mean it just sort of started haunting the equipment in the broadcast room one day, and he never cared enough to catch the thing or shoo it away. It's a completely wild rotom, just a particularly passive one (he likes to claim he 'tamed' it with pizza and crisps). This also means that after Alex takes his job, the rotom becomes 'theirs', in a strange sense. Although it definitely prefers Dave to Alex. Sometimes it'll cause havoc in the broadcast room if it thinks they aren't doing a good enough job editing- swapping cameras on its own accord and so on.

[mjrdm]

From watching what we're shown of the Reanimal and applying Little Nightmares logic I feel vibes like one of the kids has grown on the farm and the other was raised in a cult 🥴

[ehlnofay]

Efri thinks she’s found the library.

“Woah,” she says, letting the door swing shut behind her. (Loudly. The doors here are so heavy.) Her voice echoes off the stone walls. She feels like she’s stepped into some story, like an exaggerated version of what a mage’s college would be.

It’s not that she’s never heard of a library before or anything. She understands them, conceptually. But the most books she’s ever seen at once was the small set of shelves in Rorik’s manor, and even that blew her away the first time – all the pretty bindings and close-written words. This is –

The College library is something else. It’s a lot bigger than a set of shelves.

Winding, narrow hallways bend and squiggle around like a set of earthworms trying to squish together to make a solid shape with no gaps, and every single wall is lined with books. Each shelf is like a rainbow of covers and colours. Half the spines are thick as at least two fingers put together and written over with words she can’t read. Efri has to bring Sissel here. She’d lose her mind.

“Woah,” she says again, and steps further in to look at the books on the shelves. All the bindings in blacks and blues and browns. One has the title written down the spine in gold lettering that shines. She brings up a hand to touch it.

“What are you doing?” someone demands. Efri stops. She looks.

It’s a grumpy-looking orc man in a bright yellow tunic, glaring at her much fiercer than seems necessary for the crime of looking at books in a library. He looks like he might be old – his hair’s white enough that his beard’s the same colour as his sharp sticking-out teeth, and he’s wrinkly.  Efri wrinkles her nose and tells him, “I’m looking at the books.”

“Wash your hands first,” he barks, turning his much-too-angry glare on Efri’s hovering arms. “You look like the sort of person to have grubby fingers.”

It’s true, but Efri is offended anyway. She wipes her palms hard against her orange wool skirt. (The skirt is grey at the hem from playing in dirty snow. It does not make her any cleaner.)

“Who’re you?” she asks the rude man. “I haven’t met you yet.”

He does not stop scowling. Maybe he’s perpetually angry. Maybe he just has an unfortunate face. But he says, “I’m the Arcaeneum archivist. Urag gro-Shub.”

The Arcaeneum, that’s what the library’s called. Very fancy name. (Sissel will love it. And has Kazari been here yet? They might like it too. She’s pretty sure they can read, though probably not these fiddly little paper books.) “What’s an archivist?”

“I maintain the library.” The archivist Urag gro-Shub might be grumpy and not very nice but at least he didn’t do the thing where he sighed all annoyed at Efri’s question. “I choose when and to whom the books are lent, and I ensure they are not damaged. Hundreds of years have gone into assembling this collection, and it’s going to stay pristine.”

“Is that book hundreds of years old?” Efri asks, pointing to the showy tome with the writing in gold.

Urag barely glances at it, dark eyes flashing in the vague direction of her pointing finger and flashing back again. “No. That’s historical fiction written in 185. That copy was made within these last ten years.”

“You didn’t even look at it,” Efri says.

“Bejewelled Tragedy. Four hundred pages. Horrendously inaccurate. Frankly, it wasn’t worth acquiring in the first place. Feel free to look for yourself.”

Efri will take his word for it.

“This section is for the books that are up for purchase,” he tells her, gesturing. “The worthwhile ones – and the old ones, if those are what you’re looking for – are further in.”

Efri squints down the passages again, their bright lights and cosy winding walls. She can’t tell where this section ends and the next one starts. She feels like if she went any further into the library she’d get lost. She says, “Thanks. I’m Efri, by the way.”

“I know. You’re that kid who showed up.”

“One of,” Efri corrects.

Urag keeps talking, rolling right past like he didn’t hear her. “Don’t know why in the name of all that’s been called holy they let you in. You’d think this would be a step too far, even –” he huffs and snaps his jaw shut, tusks digging into his moustache. He says, “At any rate. You’re here now, and you’re subject to the same rules as everyone else. You treat these books as careful as if they were your own firstborn children, understand? And if there’s something you want to find – or especially take out of the Arcaeneum – you come talk to me.”

Efri nods obediently. What time would it be right now? The lecture Sissel went to was almost two hours, and it’s definitely only been about one. She asks, “Are there any books with pictures?”

She’s not sure if it’s just the shape of his mouth or if he’s sneering. Urag says, “That depends. Are you going to respect the books enough to try to read the words too?”

“That depends,” Efri retorts, nettled. (She gets that he’s protective of the collection, but there’s no need to be rude about it.) “Are your books going to teach me how to read?”

Urag stares.

“You can’t read,” he replies, sounding vaguely offended, as though she, at six years of age, had refused to attend the village school for the express purpose of spiting him four years later.

Efri pulls a book out of the shelf without looking at it, ignoring the way he huffs. There’s nothing embossed on the spine or the cover, but there’s a title scribbled on the first page. “That’s a B,” she says, pointing to the first letter of the first word, and then stops, squinting. Switches her focus to a different word. “That one says off.”

“Of,” Urag corrects over her shoulder.

Efri shrugs. She snaps the book shut and slips it back into its place on the shelf. “I can read a bit,” she says. “I know my letters and that. The books here are just big.”

And given that she’d failed to correctly identify of, even small stories might be a bit beyond her skill level.

Urag is quiet. Efri looks back at him, mostly expecting him to still be looking affronted, as though she’d stolen food out of his mouth and thrown it at a wall – instead he looks oddly, blankly thoughtful.

“We don’t have anything suitable for early readers,” he says, tapping his fingers against his leg. “That might be an oversight.”

Efri really doesn’t think it is. “It’s a big fancy library, right? I think it’s normal to just collect the big fancy books.” All the ones that are hundreds of years old, or about magic or important things, or both.

Urag’s knuckles rap against a buckle on his belt. He says, “No! First misconception. A worthwhile collection archives all the work on its focus possible. The Arcaeneum is a collection of knowledge in every form. Therefore, we have as many books as we can access, on all sorts of topics. Half of them aren’t even good!”

“You sell the bad ones,” Efri says, trying to follow.

“Some of them. If they’re wholly without merit. Mostly I sell duplicates. Or works no-one has ever used. There’s things to be learned from everything – if not now, later. I’ll think on it.”

He looks back at Efri, looking a bit like he might have forgot she was there. “Regardless. Do you need anything, or can I get back to work?”

He’s still all rude and prickly. Efri bristles a bit. “I wasn’t keeping you,” she says, flicking her eyes again over the strange and wandering walls.

Urag sighs again like he’s got any right to be annoyed with her, but then he asks, “Would you like a tour of the Arcaeneum?”

“Do you want to give it?”

“You’ve already distracted me,” he says. Adds less irritably, “And I enjoy a chance to show off the collection. Long as you don’t interrupt me.”

“I’m going to interrupt you,” Efri informs him. She doesn’t like to be told what to do.

She lets him show her the library.

[salemruinseverything]

hypothetically if one were looking to obtain a full set of a semi-obscure children's book series,

[good-wine-and-cheese]

Emperor card

[jitteryjive]

about an hour into the fourth banban video and i wanna do a semi joke rewrite so bad…. putting aside the glaring problems with banban (shitty design overall, simultaneously vague and convoluted plot, bad voice acting, etc) one of my central criticisms is how lackluster the plot is. while i love a good mascot horror experimentation story the explanations are so vague and there is little to no suspense in. just about anything. is it parents getting experimented on?? children?? employees??? i can’t really care about the characters because they basically give no explanation for anything. to compare it to a similar game, i actually cared about the plot of poppy playtime because, while it also has definite flaws, it executed a sinister plot about child experiments fairly well. i could care about the characters and plot because they have hooks, not the most atrocious models (LOL sorry), and ch3 was also built up adequately with the playcare. garten of banban is just like ‘uh oh!!! kindergarten!’ and absolutely nothing else 😭

[st4rstudent]

I AGREE its so crazy how zap gags weren't a thing.... like TTCC really popped off with that one! i understand TTR is moreso sticking closer to the way TTO was but WOW zap just feels so natural with a REALLY good mechanic that uses strategy in using squirt and its just so good.... also my favorite track

YEEEPP!! That's how I feel about it. Squirt and zap just mix well together. I also think the addition of an 8th gag track was also a good move, allowing for a nice rotation of combinations (like how lure-trap and throw-drop are together as a combo). And also its a nice even number. I also think it helps utilize squirt, idk just feels good to do in general. Of course, I don't really have anything to compare this to and it's just me speaking as a player of (currently) one server, so take what I say with a grain of salt.

It's my favorite too, zap warriors UNITE!!

[plaguethewaters]

sometimes i wanna be insensible bout shit yk

[des-no9]

.

[aliosne]

Let me recommend: Jane Yolen’s Great Alta series. The majority of the stories are told through normal narrative prose, but they are interspersed with academic texts about or adjacent to the events of the story.

“Way too reliable narrator” where the narrator provides documentation and proof for how they know every detail in the narrative and an estimate of how confident they are in it.

[techno-rat]

Crocheted all day today!

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi