#hope this answers this question yipeee

[octonerd]

Traveler Isabeau Is SO SO SO SO Cool!!

If I may, can I ask his dynamic with the rest of the party? Or what roles the rest of the party have?

YES YOU MAY!!! also thank you teehee hope these are interesting enough cause I will say Traveler!Isabeau is pretty similar to canon Isa imo.

So first off Mirabelle and Isabeau, who at first kinda bumbled around each other due to Isa's resting bodyguard face and scary appearance. After a week though, Mira could see he's a good guy and they bonded over their shared love for books! (Isa often read while on the sea). Oh also Mirabelle is the Researcher!

Siffrin (who is the fighter now) is very quiet at first but had to stifle his laughter at Isabeau's antics the longer they were traveling together. They both are not proud of their career's and find themselves quietly bonding over their violent histories.

Odile (Chef now) and Isabeau are pretty close to the canon dynamic with Isabeau playfully getting on Odile's nerves a lotttt. This Odile is a little more petty and will trade blows with Isa often (though its all in good fun).

Bonnie (housemaiden) and Isabeau are also very close to canon, they are very very sibling coded and maybe the biggest difference is this Isabeau a bit more violently protective of them.

[ezraholmes]

pirate!schlatt x crew!nurse!reader

chapter 1

yipeee wrote a chapter, this is mainly charcater introduction but idk more interesting than just that I hope!

if you haven’t already read the prologue here

word count : 1k ish

cw: mention of injury, mention of death

8 years later, you find yourself still on board the mighty ship you boarded all those years ago. You had grown and matured with the ship that now sported a fair few scratches and missed a plank or too up on deck. The important bit was that you made it, and no longer concealed, you were a pirate! Or as close to being one as a woman could get, you were resident doctor on board the chuckler, a small room beneath deck filled with makeshift beds and vials of medicinal potions; the room was yours, although many a day you spent sharing with unwell pirates. You sat on the edge of one of the crates that formed a bed. Applying some concoction of Caribbean amenities onto a nasty wound upon the boatswains right foot. A wedge of golden light enlarged as the decrepit door of the dimly lit room was pushed further open. Your eyes stayed on your patient, having learned your lesson after a few unfortunate incidents. A humm left your lips, your way of enquiring to your mystery guest. Your question was answered by a firm hand on your shoulder, followed by Schlatt's gruff voice: ‘You almost done?’ Slicing through the mild silence as if with a knife, his violent demeanour was ever present. ‘Yeah. Just let me dress the wound,’ you replied, your voice soft as ever. You reached for the bandage from the crate to your left. Gently stretch it out before wrapping it several times around the foot before you. You could feel Schlatt's eyes on you, him observing how tender and careful you were with every movement. His eyes were following you as if you were the brightest thing in the room, as if you cast everything else into shadow. You slit the end of the bandage and fastened it tight before helping the boatswain to his feet and assisting him out the door. You waved him out of the room and closed the door behind him, turning then to light the candle sitting by your bed. Sitting down next to your newly lit candle, legs dangling from the side of your raised bed, sheets crinkled and faded from years of use. Only then did you look st schlatt, giving him your full attention. He looked down at you, seemingly taking his time choosing his words but in truth admiring the sparkle in your eye and the way you looked at him as if you were equals. As if he wasn’t a cutthroat pirate and you weren’t a well-informed medic. ‘Captain thinks there's a ship up ahead, he says, briefing in 10’ It saddened you the way he referred to his own father with such formality. A ship up ahead meant a raid, you sighed. As much as you enjoyed the pirate life, you knew how Schlatt would throw himself into battles. He would fight to the end. Thankfully, that ‘end’ hadn’t yet been his end. You and Schlatt had grown even closer over your years at sea, a combination of your already-formed bond and the fact that everyone else on the ship was a good few years older, well into their 30’s. He knew how much you despised the wholeheartedness he applied to battle; he knew you spent their time at battle sitting worriedly on your bunk waiting, hoping for his return. This was probably the only reason he hadn’t yet come a cropper. Saving himself for you. He was the only reason you joined this ruddy ship, and he wouldn’t leave you here alone. 

Minutes later, Schlatt broke the silence that had overcome the both of you. ‘We better go,’ he offered you a hand, and he helped lever you out of your bed. Your hands lingered in each other's grasp a little longer than anticipated before falling back to their owners sides. He followed you out of the room, unbeknownst to you, his hand hovering just off the small of your back as you made your way up the ship's rickety stairs and up onto the top deck. The fresh sea air is a relief to your lungs after the damp, smelly interior or the ocean vessel. You let Schlatt take the lead, and you followed him to the gathering of men around the helm of the ship. A man you knew as Zame passed schlatt a tankard of rum, watching you almost judgingly as you seated yourself atop an empty barrel. Schlatt stood himself behind you, a protective hand on your shoulder. Being the only female on a ship of middle-aged men led to more than your fair share of sexual advances, and Schlatt knew how much you disliked the attention. He acted as somewhat of a guardian angel with the way he shot angry glares at anyone looking your way, even a little too long. The captain stood on the raised platform of the ships wheel and explained the vague plan. Himself Schlatt and Gart were to be the front line of attack, and so on and so forth. Our pirates were skilled, usually taking our whole ship with only one or two casualties and very rarely fatalities; as far as you were aware, your ship was known ocean wide. Yet still, before any raid or attack, there were the nerves bouncing around your head and making light in your stomach. The uneasy feeling knowing the possibility of schlatts demise. In your head, you were friends, but you’d been devoid of social norms for the last 8 years, not having seen the proper functions of love interests and feelings. Not being taught the difference and how friends acted. Schlatt was always touchy with you, feeling the need to always have some part of himself connected to you when in your general vicinity, and vice versa. You hadn’t yet realised the strength of your relationship, and yet with every clash of swords, you feared the end of it.

You could see the other ship drawing nearer, and with a soft exchange of words, you were sent back to your room to cross your fingers and wait for your friends return. 

<-previous part ||

Ummm yipeee, I have an idea for plot so just hold tight :)

kinda new to posting on here so lmk if you enjoyed this by rebloging or wtv 🫶

taglist: @azzypzazzy (just ask to be added or removed)

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Hello! i was wondering if you could write me a req bc i saw your reqs r open (bc I ✨respectfully✨ suck booty at writing)

basically, reader made friends with Ghost while working together on deployment, and became friends, they hang out sometimes bc they live kinda close, blah blah blah. then, Ghost doesn't hear from reader in months (which isn't normal, bc they text like once a month, just to make sure one another is okay when they can). then, one day, in the middle of a meeting Ghost gets a call from an unfamiliar number and almost ignores it until he sees that the area code is the one reader lives in, so he decides to answer it. boom, guess what? the reader is in the hospital, sustained r/srs injuries, and is in need of emergency surgery, and the reader made Ghost the emergency contact (lets also say they traded dog tags bc fluff?)

homie gets all sad bc Reader might die and is in a mini coma, blah blah blah, realized he r in love w the reader, and uh

you can decide whether or not the reader dies and what happens next

i fr scream YIPEEE when i saw your req open, i adore your writing, like top tear, makes me cry but laugh and scream bc how are you so good?! srs, im so jelly of your writing! okay anyways, hope you have a lovely day, you dont have to do this is you dont want or if im jus a silly fucker and mis read and your reqs r closed or sum

Hellloooo! Thank you SO MUCH for the beautiful compliments and for this request <3 I loved it so much I started writing the day you sent it to me. But since it's very emotionally charged, it took me a little while to finish and I'm sorry bout that, and I rly hope you're still around and eager to read it!!! Well, there it is, my take on ur req, hope you like it.

Take me back (to the night we met) | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

✦Word count: 2.1k ✦ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley xf!reader ✦Summary: Simon gets a call from the hospital saying that you are hospitalized, in a coma and in great life risk. ✦ TW and general warnings: sensitive topics, lots of angst, fluff though, death implications, open ending, sad af read at ur own risks cuz i'm crying in my room rn;

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met

“Johnny and I make our entrances fast. I clear the way, he goes front, three of you get in by the back and we surround the site to get enough space for the hostages to come out. Any questions?” Ghost asks sternly, as is the usual of his tone especially coming down to work. He was being brutally professional at the moment - if there was rather a sign of an existing Simon, it was gone the moment he got inside the briefing room. Silence follows for the next seconds while the crew seems to be pondering over what he said, analyzing the map over the big round table sticking to the center of the room.

As it is expected, no questions. He nods with his head assuming by the silence that they’re all understood.

“Our orders are to neutralize any individual we find on the site whose face doesn’t match with our hostages, which means we do it fast before they get the chance to call for reinforcements. We don’t wanna make a mess out of this.” Price then continues his own talking, marking X’s over the tactic map and giving the next orders to every one of them. It is when Gaz opens his mouth to say something, that Simon’s phone rings for the third time in a row. He curses mentally - he muted his phone the first time; now, it was vibrating in his pocket. Awkwardly, the vibration itself is heard by everyone in the room and they turn their eyes on him almost instantly.

“Hell.” He curses out in a low voice before shaking his head. “My apologies, Captain.” His voice tries its best not to come out too annoyed, but he fails and it does; despite the timing being inconvenient, no one seems to be bothered. Johnny furrows his brows in concern, and looks over at Price, who seems to have the same, perhaps even more intense, look on his face.

Ghost mentions to pull out and turn off his phone once again, but Price is quick to intervene.

“Riley.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Third time in a row; seems like somethin’ serious, get out and pick up.” He states comprehensively.

Despite being slightly reluctant, Ghost agrees - it must be something serious. What, he couldn't come to imagine - but if for a moment in his life he had something close to a hunch, it was now, and it said he should take that call.

“Alright, one minute. Move on without me.” He nods and leaves the room, phone in hand and a worried sigh leaving his nostrils. When the door closes behind him and he walks a bit further down the hallway, he picks up.

“Yes?”

“Is this Lieutenant Simon Riley?” A feminine voice asks from the other side. Sounds in the background, beeps and small, muffled voices.

“Affirmative, who’s this?” He frowns.

“This is from the Special Forces Manchester Hospital, are you familiar with the name- hmm…” She seems to be taking a couple seconds to read, and continues saying your name. 

He freezes in place.

How long has it been since he last heard this name? How long has it been since you vanished like thin air, disappeared, stopped calling or answering? Busy. That’s what he thought. Busy with work, busy with anything. The two of you had always been two busy people, in a desperate need for time.

For a moment, in those torturous seconds of silence, Simon found himself praying to a God he wasn't even sure he believed in, that this nurse wouldn't tell him you’re dead.

“Yes.” It’s all he manages to say, with his eyes running down to the ground in a dead stare. Dead eyes. He gulps, after the despair in his chest makes him speak once again, “Why?”

“Well- sir, you’re her emergency number, we’re calling because we couldn’t manage any family members… She’s in a coma. She was severely injured in combat, and [...]”

His heart stops, like it never did before. He doesn't react, his eyes look around as if he's searching for something - as if searching for his own reaction hidden somewhere within that empty hallway. The weight of your dog tag around his neck seems to be suffocating him now. 

To his silence, the woman continues.

“[...] it’s… currently sort of impossible to predict her state within the next few days, she’s fighting but struggling lots; can you come over?” 

“Yes.” He sharply replies, immediately. His eyes are still on the ground as he closes his eyes, and nods. “I’ll be on my way, yes.” 

“Good.” She replies, and he turns off.

For a moment, he stops to breathe; Ghost wipes his hand over his mouth in a somewhat guilty expression, he should have reached for you. He should have reached you the instant he missed you, your calls. 

“Hell…” He shuts his eyes for a moment, his heart stings like he’s poisoned, it hurts - some sort of pain he swears to god, he probably never felt before. Not when he lost his training dog, nor when he lost friends before - maybe because there were always a lingering possibility between the two of you. It was nothing but a friendship, never had been - but every word, every phrase was full of underlines of sentiment, an immense desire to reveal his interior and spit out the fears he refused to speak about to anyone else.

It's the possibility that kills him now. Even after all this time, not for a second did you cease to exist in his troubled and saddened mind. Suppressed by all the worries and feelings he thought were more important than you.

Not for a moment did he stop thinking about that pleasant end to his career, the retirement he knew he deserved, a house at least isolated from the rest of the world with trees and streams, the snow falling when winter comes and the sun scorching the land. land when summer finally arrived. You, on the front porch. 

You.  You.

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

You were leaning back on the sofa, your legs stretched out by the small table that marked the space between you and the balcony railing of his apartment.

The rain fell calmly, some thunder, but few drops. The sound of them falling against the roofs of the houses below the level where you were was echoing in your ears, and he seemed busy drawing patterns among the heavy clouds that covered the sky. 

He gave up trying to find any stars in that rainy sky and found comfort in finding your eyes instead. They were already watching him, almost expecting him to say something, even though the silence between two of you usually speaks volumes more than words itself; you’ve never been good with them, much less him. 

Simon looked down at your dog tag, lying brightly on your bust exposed by the tank top you wore. 

“What do you want to do after retiring?” He asked, his voice calm, his eyes almost closed. He took your necklace between his fingers calmly, and watched your shiny name exposed on the icy metal.

“Gotta be honest with you, can’t see myself retiring.” You replied, with your usual brutal honesty - something he particularly always liked so much about you. “What about you?” 

You don’t mind him, you allow.

“Don’t know.” He was, too, brutally honest. “Seek fuckin’ forgiveness for my sins before I die and end up in hell, I suppose.” 

You laughed.

“Oh, fuck. Gonna die trying to find that, mate.” You admit, raising your eyebrows in another big sip of your beer. “We’re all going to hell… At least we’ll all party there together.” You sounded fun, and your eyes turned into little lines with the genuine smile you let out when noticed that he too laughed at your joke. 

“We’re partyin’? Tell me Johnny isn’t going…”

“He’s my first guest.” You laugh harder.

“Thought that’d be me.” 

“You hate parties.” You raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t hate you.”

You silently smiled and looked away. 

“Fair enough.”

When it came to the two of you, there was nothing but connotation.

You could spend hours in that apartment alone with him - and you did. Did plenty of times, and yet, among subtle touches and heartfelt conversations, the end would be the same. Not in his bed, not in yours: by the door, with a rueful look and smile on your face. 

With a held back hug you never gave, a held back kiss you never allowed and an uncertain goodbye before departing on a mission that could take your or his life.

There was a phone call, once.

He called you late in the night. He was drunk. Too drunk. 

“I’m scared.” His voice was low, fluttering, like those cold days he’d be waiting for his dad’s arrival in his bed, under the covers, terrified and alone. “I’m scared. Can- can I see you? Can I come over, please?” 

As you hugged him on the couch in your own apartment now - that huge, strong, self-sufficient man collapsing in your lap like a baby in need of comfort, your heart was never right about anything like it was right about loving him. In that moment you knew it, you were fucking lost, taken, desperately in love.

You departed; you gave him your dog tag, he gave you his. A memory, an attempt. Do not forget me, you said. Don’t you dare forget me if I die, Simon Riley.

“I didn’t.” 

He looks at you with regret. The devices that help you breathe keep him from seeing you fully, whole - but still behind all those hospital beeps and sounds, you're still as beautiful as the first time he saw you.

He wants to go back to the past. Reverse everything he did, redo it from scratch; the first time he saw you, the first time he felt his heart ache listening to you talk about another man, all the times he repressed his feelings and swore not to love you.

“I want to be with you.” He mutters, his eyes emptily stare down your almost lifeless hand resting over his. “After I retire. I want to be with you.” He says again, closing his eyes, shutting them tight like he’s trying his very best to repress the tears he wants so bad to let fall. 

“I fuckin’ need you- I- how did this happen, how did you…” He gasps as the clock ticks, low, the sound of the hands ringing like doomsday inside his head. Every second that passed was one less with you. There are twenty minutes left for you to enter that operating room, and maybe you’ll never leave it again.

His eyes water and his legs give out, he kneels beside the bed, his suppressed voice sounding like a low, painful moan. The cry of a child who lost everything he had; of a confused teenager who would become a soldier, cold, dead inside, incapable of love - who loved you. Who loves you. “I’m scared. I’m scared- I love you.” He’d mutter, praying to all known gods to not take you. Take anything, anything from me; anything but her.

When the doctors came into the room and hurriedly moved your gurney to the ward in a desperate attempt to get your heart working again with the transplant, Simon sat in the waiting room with his face buried in his hands, his legs trembling. and the false hope that you would come back.

That you’ll be on that front porch, resting ever so happily, a bottle of beer in your hand and the dogs running around. He will have gotten rid of the mask and the habit of wearing it and you’ll be happy. You’ll be happy. You’ll be alive.

“God, please.” He mutters. “You’ve taken so much from me, now please, not this.”

He stands up as the doctor calls his name, with his heart on his hand and regret flashing his face off, he just wants another minute with you, another second with you, enough seconds so he can tell you he love you - he had, for most of his life and now, and he will, for the rest of his days with or without you.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met.

[allgremlinyaps]

Ayo can you recommend some jetko fics?

yipeee !!! oh anon CAN I ... please allow me to organize them for you as well ...

Post-Renaissance:

Empty vessels. by outpastthemoat

It’s just that he wanted Li to come with him and he didn’t; Li hadn’t wanted anything to do with Jet. And he really shouldn’t, Jet’s nothing but bad luck to anyone.  But Jet can’t let it go.

Let the City Pull You Under by MadSeason (naive_wanderer)

[He’ll wonder all that, later; but in this moment he kisses a boy who thinks he’s something other than he is, and clings to the bolt of revelation that strikes him in the dark: maybe nothing in life matters except grabbing onto whatever brief moments you have to feel good.] Before joining the Avatar, before choosing his path on the crossroads of destiny, and before he finds a poster for a missing bison, Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation has a teenage affair in Ba Sing Se.

love never wanted me anyway by tiffaniesblews

“Do you really not know how to take a compliment?” Jet questions, turning so that he is leaning on his shoulder, raising an eyebrow over at Zuko. Zuko just shrugs, unsure of how to answer.  “Come on, Lee, you’re a handsome guy,” Jet states, giving Zuko a playful shove in the arm. “You have to see that, right?” OR: Jet gives Zuko a compliment that Zuko is unsure of how to answer.

The Classics:

 Something to Hold Onto by Wildgoosery

Since the day the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, the Freedom Fighters have struggled to protect what remains of the city and its people. Jet and his second command, a mysterious boy named Li, have spent the summer piecing together an army, hoping for a chance to take the city back for good. But Li is also Zuko, and the time for that secret is quickly running out. Soon, he'll have to decide exactly who he is, what cause he's going to fight for, and where his heart lies.

Something New by Anonymous

Zuko is sick and tired of living in Ba Sing Se. Jet is too. But he wants to make it better anyway.

The Bathhouse of the Four Beauties by jin_fenghuang

Set in Ba Sing Se. Li and the Freedom Fighters are visiting a bathhouse. Can be considered vaguely in the 'The Walls of Ba Sing Se' timeline, but is a stand-alone story.

[chopinski-official]

I completed my music IGCSE yipeee the paper was so delicious, it’s a gourmet meal for my ears (Don’t worry I completed all the questions and checked all my answers)

Well done mon élève! Good luck to you in all your exams and I hope you get the result you wish for in music. I wonder what was on the paper that was so delicious?

Good luck to any other pupils who may be sitting exams this May/June!

[experiment-tzt]

New Oc Yipeee

Heyo! Im back with a new drawing, this time an oc of mine! Her name is Aisha and is from the world of pokemon. And yes, i ship her with Ingo which kind of cringe but like im free so- XD Hope you guys like her!💜✨

A bit of lore i guess is that she was a person who was sent to the past to stop the distorcion in PLA but Arceus mess it up so badly that she was sent to her region past (Mexico inspired💜), with no memories of herself and 2 years prior of Ingo sent to the past; which is also like, even before the events of PLA (。・ω・。)

If you guys have any more questions please ask! I will gladly answer them! :D

[xeo-kunsatan]

Format change yipeee.

Sir C saw while the cookies were laughing how... Look Stratos ended like Todoroki!

The cookies surprisingly also managed to tied up Stratos body guards (seriously how?)

After the pain got less painful Stratos only questioned where were his children, something Muscle Cookie answered that they were at the park next to other cookies.

Suddenly Sherbet cookie arrived riding Neiger as a horse and run away to found Cotton, making an huge mess in Pacopolis city, Stratos was just hoping no one saw his daughter's pet because he would not have the heart to tell her to rid of the beloved bear and because it was already a huge obstacle declare a law against the hunt of Methabeasts.

Sherbet finally found Cotton next to the other cookies, Cedrick innocently introduced Neiger to the cookies without knowing the actual intentions of the monster, Something Madeleine was hoping the worst with it. But that made mad Yuri because no one touches her prey..

Is that a Jojo reference?.

RP Art with @peachlolitasevillacourtstuff

Cookie run x PMATGA Art roleplay with @xeo-kunsatan Part 2

Crunchy Chip, Soda and Vampire Cookie make an appearance.

They entered safely from the portal that made the espresso cookie, but the place where they met was very hot.

sparkling cookie had also arrived at the unknown place, he thinks they are in a volcano since it is very hot.

And that bathes him in his own sweat.

unaware that they were all seen by a gigantic ghost carrying a drink in his skeletal hand, and he is curious.

Victor @xeo-kunsatan