#I gotta get through today but idk if I have the strength

[jocelynships]

I totally didn’t cry over the fact the X-Men aren’t real last night before bed haha who does that

It’s me. I do that.

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

May I say just Tyler pulling you close to him while you’re staying safe from a tornado hmmm

A lil protective moment with him is all I want 🫠🫠. Ask and you shall receive, my dear.

Pairing; Tyler Owen’s x reader

Word count; 1.2k (I got carried away just a little)

cw; tornadoes, rodeos, idk what else? FLUFFF AND a sprinkle of angst.

“Is this how they do it in Texas too?”

You looked up at the man beside you, his green eyes stilled on you. You were focusing on the rodeo he’d brought you to, men out on horses and bulls, taming the wild animals, riding their fears.

You looked back Tyler, he was still focused on you and not on the game. Heat rose to your cheeks, turning them into a red mess as you rubbed your hands nervously on the fat of your thighs. It was too hot to wear anything but jean shorts and a tank.

“Pretty much, not different from how they originally used to do back in the early days actually. But Texans have their pride.” You didn’t really have the accent to be taken as someone from Houston, but the badges- fabric patches with Velcro- you wore on your jeans at all times were evident enough of how proud you were to be from Texas.

The man chuckled, his eyes getting just a little smaller as crinkles formed around them, his cheeks lifting forming into a beautiful smile on his lips.

“Well ain’t that the right way to do it”

You both laughed, turning back to the rodeo. You tried to get a little bit comfortable in your seat, adjusting yourself before deciding to just sit a little bit straighter. Your hands reach for the arm rests, expecting the cold metal to make contact, but it never happens, instead your met with a warm, calloused palm of Tyler’s. He’s a little surprised at first, you both are, he slowly gathers the courage and weaves his hand through yours, helping you adjust.

You keep a hold of his hand, looking at him wide eyed and he’d say you look like a deer caught in headlights but that won’t do the justice to how beautiful your eyes look right now. The way sweat glistened on your body, your lips parted and slightly heavy breath of yours that fans his face. You’re mere inches away but it feels too far to him. He needs to feel you, feel those lips on his, caress your soft skin under his rough hands an-

A loud siren buzzes through the arena snapping the two of you out of it. A tornado siren. You felt the continuous buzz of the alert through your jeans, looking back at Tyler with the same look in your eyes.

We gotta get out of here.

And so, in a very calm yet hasty manner, you and Tyler take off. Calmly brushing past the crowd and scared civilians to get to his truck. It might not be enough to stay in there but you may have enough time to get somewhere safe.

Think think think, where is safe? And suddenly it hits you.

Your hands are still attached, his hand squeezing yours a little too tight when he feels like you might get swallowed by the rushing crowd.

“I got it!”

You finally get to his truck, quickly getting in and driving.

Tyler is scared, but the way a smile forms at your lips, he almost forgets you’re in the middle of fucking life and death.

“You got somewhere close?”

You nod, giving him the directions as he hits the gas on full. It’s an old bunker you found literally yesterday when you came out to explore the town. Trying to figure out places that could be safe for the people to evacuate to. It is small, enough to fit around two or three people and you hope it’s not jammed up for the two of you to seek shelter.

The tornado is not far behind. Gaining speed and strength as it chases the two of you. You’re not ready, this was not in the plan and you’re certain that today is not the day you’ll die. Not when you’ve just stared to get to know him.

Tyler strategically positions his car, activating the drills as the two of you exit, running towards the patch of metal in the middle of the farm field.

He gets to it first, letting go of your hand mid sprint to open it up for you. Letting you climb down before getting in, the metal trap door a little too heavy with the winds and rain for him to completely shut it. So he leaves it open, letting the cold rain pour down into the bullet as he reaches for you.

You’re holding onto the pipelines, not having it in you to move further because of the wind. You feel his hand on your waist, holding onto you for dear life as your grip on the pipes tightens. One hand holding onto you and the other onto the pipe right above you, Tyler grounds himself on the floor. His feet turned soon as he tried not to move. Your hand comes up to where his rests on your waist, clutching it tighter before he pulls you even closer, chest to back.

You can feel his heart pounding, like your own, against your back. You’re both heaving. Your heavy breathes turning into calmer ones as your eyes closed, trying to breathe in his scent, feeling the way his arm feels around you. Thinking about anything but the giant tornado above your head. The smell of him engulfs you and you find yourself thinking and wanting to feel is him, him, him, him.

It’s enough. The sheer skin to skin contact, the smell of your hair right under his nose, the feel of his hot breath on your neck. It sends shivers down both of your spines and in no time the sky clears and the wind and rain passes over. The tornado moved or completely died, you’re not sure.

But you’re sure about the man that is still latched to you. Holding onto for dear life. The way he’s nuzzling his nose into your hair, his lips brushing against your scalp and leaving tiny kisses you can barely make out.

“It’s gone” your voice is nothing but a whisper. You turn in his arms, his hand still attached to your waist as you look up at him through wet lashes.

He has this wild look in his eyes, concern, fear, and love all moulded into one. You feel them dart to your lips, and back to your eyes before his other hand comes up to brush some hair from your face.

“Thank you for that” he whispers, “if you hadn’t known about this place, I’d probably be dead”

You give him a smile, squeezing his arm before snaking your way out of his grasp.he reluctantly lets go of you, wanting to keep contact with your soft skin and that close proximity that kept you warm. But he lets you go, you’re shaken, just a little bit. This wasn’t your first tornado, but god it felt like you both were about to die there.

He helps you get back up, climbing up the ladder just behind you.

The walk back to the truck is quiet, you’re only half an arm length away from him but it feels too far.

He opened the door to the passenger seat, letting you in before getting into the drivers seat himself. Letting out a long breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in before deciding to break the silence.

“So, you know anymore rodeos that end like that?”

A/n; The ending feels rushed, idk? I hope you liked it!! Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated, lovies🫶🏻🫶🏻.

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

CW: Pain... when it sucks, it really sucks hard. (my life)

Today N. came home. After 3 months abroad, he was back with me/us. However, N. was a little disappointed. Our Baby didn’t feel comfortable with him. He didn’t see him for 3 months. He was a stranger to our son. But later in the evening, when we were in bed together, our little one seemed to slowly understand, that Nico belongs to us. He didn’t cry anymore when N. tried to hug or hold him. He even seemed to enjoy it a bit. ❤️

Nico: I missed you both sm. I was hoping he’d remember me.😟

Me: You have to give him some time. He was only one day old when you left. And look at him, he likes you.

Nico: He’s quiet now because you’re holding him.

Me: But something about you seems to make him curious? He’s already tired. I can tell by his eyes. Still he struggles to stay awake. He doesn’t want to fall asleep. He looks at you all the time, N.

Nico: And he won’t let go of my hand. He pulls really hard like.. he’s fighting with me. 😄 He wants me out of here, huh?

Me: Let's put him between us. 🥰

Nico: Why is he sleeping here with you in our bed?

Me: He got used to it. He screamed & cried a lot. It was easier for me to have him next to me, to calm him down or feed him.

Nico: Yea, I know. You told me. But now that he’s fine, he should learn to sleep in his own bed, babe.

Me: He’s only 3 months old!! And I still have to feed our son every 3 hours.

Nico: I’ll get up for you. I go to his bed and give him the bottle.

Me: Is he bothering you?

Nico: What about fucking? I mean, he doesn’t bother me. He’s just a Baby. He doesn’t get it anyway. But I know, you! I doubt you’ll sleep with me, as long as our Baby is lying next to us in the same bed.

Me: Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like you?🤨 ...No, I’m just kidding. Um, well! I-... Idk? It's gonna work out somehow. But tbh... here, at my parent's, it's-.... Agh, I’m afraid someone might catch us or something. Yk? I can’t even close my door! Let’s stay in the house tomorrow night. There we have at least a little more privacy.

Nico: You had a fight with your parents? We used to have sex in your room, so why not now?

Me: It was a bit tense between me and my Mom. I just don’t want to hear anymore that I’m a bad mom.😞

Nico: Did she say that to you?😠

Me: She didn't really say it, buttt I always feel like I’m doing something wrong. She said I didn’t care about Lucas. This hurt me a lot. Anyway.

Nico: I gotta get you out of here.

The next morning I woke up with a severe headache. The pain was unbearable. I knew that pain. I’ve had this kind of headache in the past. That’s why I became hooked. I had to take very strong painkillers, opiates, because nothing else helped me. And now it was back. Why the hell? I really didn’t have the strength and nerves to deal with this kind of pain, NOW. 😭😫

I got up and went to the bathroom. This pain almost drove me crazy. I was afraid I’d be as bad as I was then, in the past.

I sat down on the floor in the shower. I tried to get through it somehow. Usually, the headache stopped after an hour.

And yes, I got a bit better. That moment Nico came to me. He just woke up.

Me: Did you leave Lucas alone?

Nico: No, ofc not! I took him down to your Mom. I thought you were there too. What-

Me: Nothing! I- I’m fine. I had a bad headache.

Nico: That’s why you’re sitting.... naked in the shower? 🤨🙂

Me: Yes, exactly. When I have this severe headache, sometimes I do things that don’t make sense. Yk? Out of desperation to survive the pain somehow.

Nico: And has it helped?

Me: No, nothing helps, but I still try, because, as I said, I’m desperate and can hardly stand it.

Nico: I love you, babe. So much. 😟

Me: Love you too. 😳

A day later I had to go to the hospital. I passed out, because I couldn’t stand the pain anymore. The docs suspected that it had something to do with the c-section anesthesia? However, it was nothing serious but the pain... didn’t go away. Just as then. 😫

Previous/Next

[dianititties]

so i haven't been able to stop thinking about AvM mianite crossover au. take my random doodles while i was thinking about it, varying in quality. my ramblings are under the cut >:3

OKAY SO

purple is SO fucking andor esque. like. got the gender swag for it, the wings, the princely aesthetic, the tragic balance, the fuckin DADDY ISSUES--

*coughs* okay so uh. here we go.

out of the color gang, here's their godly alignments:

Green - Ex-Mianitee, now Ianitee. not because of anything bad happening, they just eventually found their own balance and that was right for them. (plus it does not hurt that their bestie is an ianitee but shhhhhh that's not why they switched) though i am tempted to give them wizard status on principal alone. but the Aesthetic.

Blue - i honestly couldn't think of an alignment for blue? like. i get mianitee vibes from her. but not in the way that any of the canon mianitees acted. except maybe like, dec, but less priestly. blue's just vibing out here!! though it will DEFINITELY be challenged by s2 mianite.

Yellow - Also Mianitee- though she's definitely more into it than Blue. redstone is tricky business and follows many rules and yellow knows the bounds and sticks to them, like in the nether sleeping short. unlike a certain someone...

Red - Dianitee, but only in s2. I cannot see Red willfully siding with Dianite in s1? I think Red would prefer to be godless- though aligned with the Mianitee and Ianitee sides in s1. also he probably got FUCKED UP in some way, relating to divinity? because herobrine analogous thing? maybe the tank of judgement taken to the extreme? idk.

Orange/TSC - Ianitee but vibes from both mianite and dianite. Got main character energy, they've gotta! Plus relating to how TSC was prepared to stay hidden from Alan out of fear until meeting the CG, and upon seeing them get deleted, went OFF- that is ianitee divine retribution right there if i've ever seen it. ianitees aren't just balance, they are justice.

Okay moving onto the misc. others-

King - Miantee, but like, that gets tested at the end of s2 of mianite. He can't say that he's upset to lose his faith, but it feels like something he can't fill back up has been ripped out of him. He's done horrible things for his god, for himself, to others. also i gave him a fun custom variant of his staff for this au because i think the significance of killing the wither as a test of strength in s1 was very neat and should be explored more. though he wouldn't be in s1 world probably. hm. ANYWAY--

Chosen/TCO - Godless. So fucking godless. And proud of it. Well, not proud to be godless necessarily, but vehemently against forming bonds with the gods. Ex-Mianitee, then joined Dianite during the time he was with Dark, but then left Dianite's side after realizing "oh wow we're using this to justify violence and hurting people, using our own pain as reason to give other innocents more, that's kinda fucked up." Has been godless since, and has no sway to try out worshipping Ianite either.

Dark/TDL - DIANITEE. DIANITEE. DIANITEE. Always from Conception has been a Dianitee. Chaos flows through her veins, corrupting every inch of him. Destruction follows, taking a deep hold in him. Dark will have what she wants, and what she wants is for the ones who hurt him and Chosen to pay. What, she's hurting other innocent people in the process? They should have just gotten out of the way. ...Maybe one day, she can see the other side of chaos- the kinder, simpler side. Maybe one day. But that day isn't today, as much as Chosen wishes it was. (Also has a hair clip given to him by Chosen. Hasn't stopped wearing it since.)

Victim, who's not in this PICTURE - Mianitee. Like. No doubt given Rocket Corp. He may have a long strike of cruelty in him, but he's going to go about it in the most efficient, orderly way possible, instilling it in everyone who follows him.

What would be the plot here? Uhhhhh who knows! I don't even know if the gods would stay like, minecraft gods, or stick figures or smth. The mianite in the picture was just for funnies.

[grem-archive]

So I don't know if you'd have the time to read a specific text or not, but with the isolationism post going around now it seems like this is the most relevant time to ask? If you can't rn that's fine, I'm just curious to hear other people's thoughts on it, especially people who know more about American history than I do, because I studied Japanese history in college, and obviously compared to the isolation of Tokugawa Japan, America has never really come close to anything like that so I might be biased

Anyway, the essay I'm talking about is The Myth of American Isolationism by Bear Braumoeller, the pdf is available for free from Harvard (or it was when I checked earlier today). Nothing on his website gave me the impression he's crazy biased or super nationalistic and therefore unreliable, but I'll admit I didn't read any of his other work or anything to check

I guess what Braumoeller says just makes a lot of sense to me? I went through public school in America and had never even heard that we sent people to represent us at League of Nations meetings, especially not after we decided not to join, until I read this essay. I just remember being told we tried to cut ourselves off as much and as often as possible, but the foreign policy of the US in the 20s and 30s that Braumoeller points to and what I know of our foreign policy after that makes me feel like the US has never actually been as extreme about isolation as people make it sound?

Idk, I'm curious to hear other people's thoughts about his claims who have better knowledge of American history than I do, cause obviously my public high school didn't bother telling me that many details, and I know you gotta be careful reading about history from individual authors cause so many of them have a specific narrative they want to spin

Sorry this was so long

Apologies in advance for the length of this answer & if it's disjointed/repetitive. I've been really tired lately, but I hope it's still insightful. Take the following with a grain of salt yet an open mind.

Also to anyone with a better understanding of American foreign affairs and policy, I implore you to add to this post. Your knowledge would be greatly appreciated.

Alrighty, so I've been sitting on this one for a while. Mostly for the fact that foreign policy and international affairs are not what I study, even though often it's hand-in-hand with history. My primary study is also more geared toward archaeological conservation, field methods, and museum curation. I had to consult a friend for this who is more interested in this type of question. I would also say there are people within the fandom with a much better understanding of this than I do, and I would greatly appreciate their input on this.

It also took me a while to read the paper, which I could thankfully get through my university. No one's fault but mine. I'm easily unfocused.

I would personally argue that the United States has never been truly isolationist. Sure, we've had periods of fluctuating isolationist sentiment - something that Braumoeller even points out - but as he also rightly points out that this is relative, saying 'American isolationism' is most often challenged by the historian sect, "who tend to define isolationism by security policy," when it could be an ideology in more than one sphere of policy. It's not a cut-and-dry definition. One section of policy could ring with an isolationist leaning (no military action), but then a country stays involved in another manner (economic). One facet of public opinion could sound isolationist ("I want the US to mind its own business."), while another shows we'd rather stay involved ("But I don't want us to stop having an influence.").

In fact, I very much enjoy how Braumoeller phrases the American ability of the 1920s on the third page of the PDF: "...thanks to America's overwhelming strength, it could rely on banks rather than tanks:". Our security was economic rather than militaristic, in simpler terms. He goes on later in the paper to demonstrate how this strategy was used on more than one occasion. So, I would describe this behavior of the first half of the 20th century as non-intervention rather than isolationism.

Never have we cut our ties with the rest of the world completely nor necessarily tried to keep the world away, not even during periods often seen as isolationist. To look at a period of American history that I'm slightly more familiar with, we will use the Revolution and its aftermath as an example. I've seen it said by a fellow student that "post-colonial" America was in a state of isolation. This is untrue. Once again, this is a better described by non-intervention.

Let's look at the Barbary captives, three American merchant ships captured by "pirates" off the North African coast in 1784-1785. The Kingdom of Morocco became the first country to recognize US independence in 1777, reaching contact with us in 1778 via Ambassador Benjamin Franklin, staying in France. Sultan Mohammed ben Abdallah also secured for the Americans security of trade, saying any ship flying the American flag might be welcomed in their ports. A later treaty, the Treaty of Friendship, was signed in 1786, then ratified in 1787, both as a promise between the two states and to afford further protection to American merchants. Of course, it wasn't foolproof, as American ships were still at risk of capture by non-participant states, but this showed an American desire to still be involved with the world. This also showed a world open to this brand-new country seeking entry. The Treaty of Friendship was our first treaty with a non-European power.

Past that, we still desired to trade with other (colonial) powers, such as selling to Saint Domingue (Haiti), which only ended with the start of the Haitian Revolution in 1791. 1784 also sees the beginnings of ties with China as an independent state, with the merchant ship Empress of China returning to Massachusetts shores after a 15-month voyage. Our influx of imports and news from Britain even rose back to comparable pre-Revolution levels by the mid-1780s, especially as British merchants began to demand American customers pay their debts. I realize I'm citing trade, but trade can be political and also is a form of economic involvement.

We often quote George Washington as warning us to stay out of European affairs; yes, this is true that he warned against this. But I would look at his words from the angle of not becoming militarily involved. Looking for more companionable relations rather than flirting with gunpowder and bayonets, or even inserting ourselves politically in many ways. America still very much entertained ties to the rest of the world after the Revolution and into the next century, but we did very little to be physically involved in their sphere.

I realize I've sort of sidetracked the question, but this was the best way I could figure to answer it. So, to compare US "isolationism" to the hard isolation of Tokugawa Japan would be incorrect; the brand of "isolationism" we tend to hear about here wouldn't even be close, in my opinion. We wanted to be left alone but did not want to give up on having an influence if that makes sense. Hell, there were times when we flirted with being involved, but didn't actually do so until later or until prompted by some interest. A necessitated carrot-on-a-stick type nation, I suppose.

Also man...I guess maybe my school was the odd one out in teaching that we still sent delegates to League discussions despite not formally being a part of it. You are not the first person I've heard say this.

[fantasticcloudcreation]

Rambling, food + body things

I'm making granola, probably way too much of it, it's so high cal that I don't even want to look at the numbers haha but it's gonna be like power food to get me through the day, I'll eat it with plain yogurt, it'll be fine 😅

I'm nervous about going back to work, heavy manual labor in the Texas heat, I haven't built a stage since April, I'm gonna be so out of shape strength-wise, I've been good about walking regularly but I haven't really been carrying heavy things lately, and I've gotten used to mild temps so it's gonna be hard to transition back to heat in the 90s... Good news is I'm 10 lbs skinnier, I got some new shorts for work today that aren't as short as the other ones so maybe the guys won't be looking at my butt all day, hopefully if I can manage to drive 8h each for the next 3 days I can get to Texas a day early so I can get used to the heat and buy groceries.

We're supposed to have a full size fridge and a kitchenette in the hotel room so I'm gonna be able to get actual food and not just eat out every day, I'm thinking yogurt+granola for breakfast, salad and veggies and whatever veg protein catering is serving for lunch, banana for an afternoon snack, and then easy protein foods for dinner like cottage cheese, lentil soups, etc.

Would love to be 105 or under the next time I step on a scale but I also have to prioritize health + body functions above that right now, but if I can at least maintain weight and energy levels that's fine ?? I guess ?? Idk I technically hit my goal weight for the year and I have a history of immediately gaining once the ultimate goal is reached so I'm just gonna see how it goes, don't overthink it, drink electrolytes and eat protein and don't eat crazy junk food -> actually I'm rewriting that sentence bc the new ultimate goal for this year is officially 103 so the plan is to maintain if I must but continue on my journey at the first opportunity :)

Motivation:

thinking about how confident I feel when I'm skinny, being cute and dancing everywhere and existing comfortably in my body; just casually looking skinny in every scenario and photo, taking goofy pics and looking cute instead of awkward; sitting on things and not worrying if my thighs look fat, wearing a crop top and not worrying about bloating after a meal, doing tasks at work in awkward positions but looking cute and fit while doing it, not constantly adjusting my clothes all the time bc everything just sits better;

working at hula, making a good first impression on the art team there, working on cool projects and using my creative/technical skills, learning new things but looking cute rather than clueless; and then show days, wearing cute outfits, swimming in the river, being cold at night and bundling up in cozy clothes, dancing with strangers, floating around like a mysterious woodland creature, confidence to make new friends and explore past my comfort zone

going out in rave clothes for show days in orlando, dancing and cuddling with L and feeling extra tiny next to him, also just seeing him again I know he's gonna pick me up and swirl me around lol would be nice to feel so tiny while that happens :) I finally got myself a set of real earplugs (last time he gave me his and then dragged me to a techno show hahaha) so I feel ready to go out and actually participate this time; also working with the art team over there, they were really snooty last year but it'd be cool to come in all skinny and confident and helpful this year and just radiate good vibes over them;

I gotta start trying a little harder with my work outfits this year, sometimes they look kinda grungy or like dad working in the yard vibes, but I'm trying to elevate my look just a lil bit and being skinny is definitely going to help. Less sweat, smaller thighs/legs, stronger + more visible muscles, looking better in short shorts and crop tops even though I've still been wearing them this whole time lol, big tshirts and longer shorts also look better; wearing bright colors and patterns and tie dye, all of it looks better when you're skinny;

My face looks so much cuter when I'm thinner; skinny hands and wrists on the steering wheel; muscles actually visible in my legs and arms and abs; bones ofc but they kind of get in the way at work, my hipbones are gonna be so bruised after one day; but cheekbones, collarbones, wrist bones, shin bones, shoulder bones, spine... Actually my spine also gets bruised when we have a long standby and I lean up against something hard for too long.

You get the idea. I know I've been saying how skinny I feel like basically since I started losing again which is funny but it's nice to be under 110 officially, it's like a whole new level of skinny :) can we lose another 5 lbs in the next 4-5 weeks?? Maybe, there's gonna be a lot of exercise, hot weather, no one paying attention to what I'm eating or wanting to share food with me, skinny roommate so I can't just snack all night without feeling weird... Could work out!

(God and then I'm going from TX to Florida and I actually can't wait to be so skinny and weigh myself on the stupid giant scales at Publix lmfao that's gonna be so fun)

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

https://www.tumblr.com/ghosttownwherenoonegoes/718653650294243328/is-anyone-wanting-to-answer-a-super-niche-question?source=share

Ask away, sweetheart. 'm all ears.

- Eddie 🦇

Eddie🥹🥹🥹

I'm back at work now after being off work for nearly a month with a soft tissue infection in my littlest toe. I'm waiting for the leftover wound to heal but shoes are still uncomfortable and I took my shoes off on my work break today and then burst into tears because it HURT but I've already had so much time off that I don't feel right to say that it still hurts and I'm struggling. So I'm keeping quiet and just dealing with it as best as I can. There's a risk of reinfection by wearing shoes for nine hours a day in hot weather but I gotta work so I'm dealing with it as best as I can while also trying to do my job. I have a checkup appointment with the doctor every Friday until it totally heals because they want to monitor it and idk I flinch or wince etc. Every time it hurts but I'm doing things anyway and I keep thinking of you. You make my heart shit a rainbow every time I see you and you're giving me the strength to wipe my eyes and carry on, just for you. I just wanna make you proud and I know I should tell my work senior it's still causing me pain but I feel like I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I CAN walk and work, it's just a bit uncomfortable and I'm always aware of my toe. I have to change the bandages every day and it makes me gag and feel sick but I turn my face away and think of you while mum changes the bandages and verbally describes what's going on. You're getting me through it all, Eddie. So I guess I'm just asking for some comfort or something. I miss you.💖

[naruto-imagine]

Idk how to put this and all butttt I'll try.. How would Hidan & Kakuzu react to their s/o (who's kinda chubby) being upset and down about their figure because somebody was nasty to them?

I'm on a roll. 3 posts in one night? *throws away my walking stick* LET'S GO.

Hidan

He would be pissed. And this is before he finds out it's because someone was nasty to you about your weight. When you make a comment about how gross you felt, Hidan would roll his eyes from where he was on the couch, his arms stretched out on the back of it. "For fucks sake. How many times have I gotta tell ya? You're fine." You stand there in the doorway, holding onto your arm and you look down to the ground in shame. Not from Hidan's words but from what that person said to you earlier. Their vile words echo in your head and you can't help but start to tear up. Hidan hears your tears patter on the wooden floor boards beneath your bare feet. His dusty pink eyes look over his shoulder at you. He softens. But only the tiniest bit. He sighs loudly, getting off the sofa to walk over to you. "Don't fucking cry about it... geez..." He says these words gentler. He swings his arm around your neck to bring you into his solid chest.

Through small sniffles, you admit to him what had happened. Now he's doubly pissed. "Why do you listen to them?!" He kissed his teeth with a loud smack. "Right." He releases you from his grip and walks towards his scythe. "Where'd you last see 'em?" Your eyes snap open and you run over to him, holding onto his wrist, begging for him not kill them. Because you sure as hell knew that was what he was going to do. He smirks at you teasingly. "Relax. I'm just gonna fuck 'em up a little." He whispers under his breath. "And then sacrifice them to Jashin."

Kakuzu

You told Kakuzu what had happened today. The comments someone had made. Kakuzu was never really one to take part in a conversation so most of the top it was like you were talking to a brick wall. Small talk was not his thing. He isn't one to cave in to emotions either. So knowing that Kakuzu wouldn't really say or do anything and rather than keeping your feelings bottled up, you told him / the wall how your day went... and that you were now feeling pretty shitty. You try to keep smiling but then you look in the mirror. You could see Kakuzu in the reflection sat at his desk, counting his money and you could see your figure. There was absolutely nothing wrong with how you looked but that person's words haunted you. Clung to you like a leech.

You lift a hand to cover your eyes, not wanting Kakuzu to see you cry. However he could not miss the jolting motion of your shoulders as you tried to hold back the hurt. A large hand grabs a hold of your waist, pulling you towards the bed. Kakuzu had gotten up from his desk in such swiftness that you were already in his lap before you realised what had happened. He sat on the edge of the bed with your legs either side of him, his massive hands holding tightly onto your hips which made you wince in pain.

"I thought you better than that." His right hand sunk deeper into the plumpness of your hip, making your breath hitch in your throat. "Listening to mere words." You felt ashamed. He was right. Why did you listen? But it's so hard when you don't have the strength to fight back. Your thoughts were interrupted by Kakuzu's nose making contact with your chest. You could feel his hot breath through his mask which made you quiver in delight, butterflies fluttering within the pit of your stomach. His eyes were closed, listening to the little sounds you made from his touches. "We're all made of flesh and bone." He lifted his head, his bright jade eyes looking into yours. He was frowning, like always, but this time he held a look of desire. "I have no care for such things."

Screaming. I love Kakuzu. Come to me DADDY. 😝

[dameronology]

i'm literally becoming such a loki simp. could you maybe do a blurb abt loki (preferably the one with some character development lmao)? if not i get ya and i know you're getting flooded rn

girl i always got time for u and i always have time for loki. i hope u enjoy💕 also idk when on the timeline this is specifically set?? it's just loki being loki really oops

The sun was streaming through the curtains, illuminating your entire bedroom.

You normally hated the mornings - but when they were brightened by a golden glow and warmed by the man beside you, that became a little less so. Loki rarely stirred before you; in fact, it normally took a lot to drag him out of bed. Usually the promise of breakfast, or at least coffee. He was pretty good at bartering.

On this particular morning, he'd woken up beneath you (nobody tell him that, though). He'd fallen asleep with your back pressed to his chest and at some point in the night, he'd rolled over and pulled you with him. He held a surprising amount of upper body strength. Even more so when he was determined to cling onto you and keep you in bed.

"Loki," you murmured. "You gotta wake up."

"No, I don't," he sleepily shot back. He hadn't even bothered opening his eyes yet.

"I have work!" you reminded him.

"Then quit."

You let out a sigh. "Please? I'll make you coffee."

"It'll take a whole restaurant for me to let go of you right now, my darling. I'm too comfortable," he replied. "Aren't you?"

"Incredibly," you huffed.

"Perfect," Loki pressed a kiss to your temple. "Go back to sleep for a bit."

"I really do have to go to work," you softly sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My manager will kick my ass for being late again."

He peeled one eye open, looking a bit suspicious. "Does he regularly kick your ass?"

"No!" you quickly said. "Only when I do unprofessional things, like staying in bed with you."

"I'm starting to think he hates like me."

"That's because he doesn't - his expensive car got crushed in the incident."

Loki let out a sigh. "I'm starting to really not like this guy."

"C'mon," you groaned. "You gotta let me go."

"Just stay here, please," he practically begged. "And I'll visit your office later and make him think you turned up today and did a brilliant job."

"Are you threatening to use magic on my boss?"

"I am."

You pondered it for a moment. Was it a little unethical? Sure! But did you care? One look at Loki laying beside you quickly said that you didn't give a fuck.

"Okay," you shrugged.

Loki pulled you back against him, arms winding around your waist. His body was perpetually cold which was a nice contrast against the stuffy summer's day.

It made your heart skip a little beat when he contently sighed against you, breath tickling the back of your neck. How could you not stay? It was his softest time of day; the one most filled with love.

You smiled, before drifting off back to sleep.

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part fifteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption

word count: 1.7k

series masterlist

Don’t tell Sam. Sam. SAM.

“Shit.”

You had to fix this in a matter of seconds. Should you slap him? Act like nothing happened? Pretend you were drunker than you actually were and play dumb?

“Wait, you’re not Sam?” you squinted your eyes like you were trying to see who was in front of you, acting like you were too drunk to remember who you were with. “Oh my god.”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Tom tried. 

“I-” you didn’t know how to respond. “Why did you do that?”

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know, it didn’t mean anything!” You’d be lying if you told yourself that didn’t sting a little. If he didn’t have any sort of feelings for you, why would he kiss you? “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Please don’t tell my brother.”

“You want me to lie to my boyfriend?”

“I mean, is it lying if you just don’t mention it?”

“It’s a lie of omission- are you really going to debate me about philosophy right now?”

“Then yes, I do want you to lie to your boyfriend because if he finds out he’ll never speak to me again.”

“You realize what kind of position that puts me in?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

You couldn’t even think straight. Feelings of confusion, panic, anger, and regret fought for control of your conscience. “What if someone had seen us? Taken a picture of us? You’re a public fucking figure, Tom. That could’ve put your career at risk.” “Don’t you think I know that?” he growled. “I don’t need you to lecture me on how stupid it was.”

“You’re an asshole,” you scoffed.

“I know.”

You stood from the table to leave, hoping he wouldn’t follow you, but he called after you, your name echoing in your ears like a warning. Reluctantly, you turned back to face him with a bitter taste on your tongue.

“You won’t tell him, right?”

You stared him down for a moment, watching nerves etch themselves onto his features before answering. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

It was a promise you didn’t want to make, but you felt like you had no other choice. You hadn’t just broken the ‘no flirting’ rule, you’d blown straight past it into completely uncharted territory. And technically Tom had been the one to initiate, you hadn’t kissed him back, but you couldn’t say you hadn’t felt something when he did. 

You had never lied to Sam before- at least not on this scale. You felt sick to your stomach, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. 

You almost didn’t want to go back to your room. You urged the elevator to go as slow as possible as you checked your appearance in the reflective wall. The tarnished gold was smudged with handprints, but you were still able to make out your ruined lipstick. You weren’t sure it had been messed up sometime during dinner, or if it was Tom’s doing but you couldn’t take a chance. You used your thumb to wipe away the evidence as the intercom on the elevator let out a ding to let you know you’d reached your floor.

With a shaky breath you pushed yourself into the hallway and forced yourself to put one foot in front of the other to walk to your room. You didn’t have a key, so you had to knock. You half-hoped Sam was already asleep, even if it meant you’d have to spend the night in the hallway. 

But as luck would have it he was still up and he opened the door seconds later. He was definitely out of it, blinking at you to put you in focus. 

“There you are,” he said tiredly, rubbing one of his eyes with his hand. “I was wondering when you’d come up.”

“I hope I didn’t keep you up,” you apologized as you breezed past him into the room. 

“Nah, I was just messing around.”

A lie, you knew, but you let it slide knowing you were keeping a much bigger secret. He was already dressed for bed in his boxers and one of your t-shirts and his hair was wet from a shower. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, noticing your anxious energy.

You nodded. “I had too much to drink.”

“Ah, me too, I think. Come take a shower. It’ll help.” 

You took his advice and tried to sober up in the shower, letting the cold water run over your bare skin until you were shivering. When it didn’t make you feel any better you turned off the faucet completely and dried off, wrapping a towel around your body and sitting on the edge of the tub. 

“Y/n?” came Sam’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

You sighed. Why did he have to know you better than you knew yourself? You pushed yourself up from the tub and opened the door. 

“I had like three more shots after you left,” you mumbled.

The color drained from his face as he took in this additional information and he frowned. “Jesus, I thought I was drunk. Do you feel sick?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, well let’s go to bed,” he urged. His accent was always thicker when he was drunk, and in a funny way it sounded like home, like all of those Friday nights back on campus. 

Sam gave you space to change into your clothes for bed and crawled under the covers to wait for you. You dressed yourself, hung your towel in the bathroom, and shut off the main light before feeling your way through the darkness over to the bed. 

You managed to get your drunk ass in bed without tripping which you considered to be a miracle. Sam slung his arm across your stomach as soon as you settled on the mattress and pulled you against his hip. You tensed underneath his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

You couldn’t relax no matter how hard you tried, and sleep taunted you for hours, hovering just out of your reach. 

Sam’s alarm woke you from restless dreaming some hours later, when the sun had barely brushed the horizon. 

You groaned and rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face in your pillow. Your head was pounding and you didn’t even want to think about facing Tom. The simple motion of rolling over had made you nauseous and you knew that standing up was going to be a whole nother ordeal. 

“Come on, love,” Sam said, nudging you with his knee. He was already sitting up, rolling the tension out of his neck from a night on the stiff mattress. “We gotta be downstairs in a few minutes.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you felt pathetic. You didn’t have the strength to be around Tom today, especially with Sam right there.

“Don’t feel good,” you moaned.

“We’re all hungover,” Sam sighed. “We’re not even doing that much walking today.”

You turned your head enough for him to see the tears running down your cheeks and he pursed his lips, expression turning worried. 

“Oh.”

“Can you make something up?” you pleaded. 

He nodded. “I’ll tell them you have a fever or something.”

You swallowed your shame and squeezed your eyes shut, whispering thanks into his shirt. Sam kissed your forehead and then got up. You vaguely heard him moving around the room getting ready, but drifted in and out of sleep as he did. 

Once he was dressed he softly told you goodbye, that he hoped you felt better, and that he’d bring you back some food later on. 

The door clicked shut and you let your guilt continue eating you alive. 

You wondered how Tom would react when Sam told his family you weren’t feeling well, if his face would give anything away. He was an actor, he should be able to handle it. But you also wondered what he was feeling, if he felt as guilty as you did- or even more so. Or maybe he wouldn’t even care. You never knew when it came to him.

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on a pillow, using the free time to respond to some messages from friends and family. It was the middle of the night back in the States, but at least they’d wake up knowing you weren’t dead. To be fair, everyone knew your communication skills weren’t the best so they probably weren’t expecting anything from you anyway, but you still wanted to put in the effort. 

The rest of the day passed by quicker than you would’ve liked. You spent it in bed, tossing and turning as you desperately tried to fall back asleep. You kept pushing the blankets off of you, then burying yourself beneath them again, flipping between hot and cold. Maybe you really did have a fever. Your clothes were suffocating you so you ended up stripping and dropping them on the floor by the bed. 

By the mercy of some higher power you were able to nap for a couple of hours scattered throughout the afternoon, but by dinner time you were wide awake again and passed the time by watching Avatar: The Last Airbender in Italian on the hotel tv. 

It was playing an earlier episode, the one where the gaang visited Kyoshi Island. You couldn’t understand any of the dialogue, obviously, but you still found comfort in the familiar scenes. 

There was a knock on the door suddenly, startling you out of your focus. You jerked your head towards the sound and scrambled from the bed. You slipped back into your t-shirt, but didn’t bother putting on pants before opening the door because you figured it was just Sam. And it was. He looked exhausted, but in the best kind of way and was holding a styrofoam container of food that was presumably for you.

“Forgot the key,” he said sheepishly, offering you the food. You smiled and took it from him, stepping aside to let him in. 

He didn’t take your cue, instead he stayed where he was standing in the doorway awkwardly. It was then that you realized he wasn’t alone, that his older brother had been standing behind him the entire time.

Sam offered no explanation, only shrugged like he didn’t know why he was there either.

“Tom?” you asked, awaiting an explanation for yourself.

“Can we talk?” 

ik tags haven’t been working idk why i’m sorry!!! but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[vicea]

dream merch discord recap (june 12, 2021) - disclaimer: i may have missed some things or mistakenly heard other things, apologies in advanced for that!

he has not played the new minecraft update

dream “knows” the date george is coming to florida but he’s not saying it :p

dream doesn’t have anyone muted on twitter

dream guesses his favorite disney princess is belle

sapnap has seen dream’s feet before

he’s not actually connor’s dad in the dsmp lore

dreamnap do not have nicknames for each other D:

dream likes olives but especially black olives

his mother makes homemade pickles

he doesn’t have a phone case

he has dropped his phone from his ear onto concrete in the parking lot before and the screen didn’t crack

dream has six fingers /j

he pours cereal first not milk when making cereal

dream calls sapnap nick most of the time :D

what’s your dream car? “idk the one that gets me to point A to point B consistently”

he finally fixed his sleep schedule, woke up at 8 am today

mrbeast owes dream a tesla because he never sent dream the audio file

dream is a very analytical person - he thinks with numbers/data

creativity is one his strengths that he is the most proud of

3 to 4 years ago, dream used to say george looks like shawn mendes a lot, now he doesn’t resemble him as much

patches is currently sleeping <3

swimming is very relaxing to dream, he swam the other day!

many houses in florida have pools than other places, even the cheapest houses in orlando have pools

dream has merchendise defects (misprints on merch) + milestone merch and he wants to give them away to those who live in orlando (probably to anyone but the event will be held in orlando) though he doesn’t want it to be a covid super-spreader thing so once you pick up your item you gotta dip. just all an idea though

he has been donating them to charity too though :)

dream has likely read Heroes of Olympus before a long time ago

he says that he’ll do a give away of his childhood books with his signature on it

he was obsessed with the series (Percy Jackson) 

he really liked the Alex Rider series

has all of Maximum Ride books, 39 clues books

has read the legend series, the twilight series, and the maze runner

has all/read of the harry potter books, divergent, eragon

he would read all the time, to the point he would read more than one book a day (a book worm he says)

dream had a goal to read 200 books in a year and he wind up reading about 150

he doesn’t want to call it a library but- growing up he had something like that that had 600 or 700 or more books in it (privileged he admits it)

he has not read a book since he started youtube (about 2 years)

dream has a folder called Book that has his own writing in it

word count: 76000 words for one of his stories 

another one he wrote 5 chapters of

he sounds very excited/embarrassed talking about the stories he wrote he’s so endearing

the very first paragraph of one of his stories (he was young when he wrote this) “What exactly is darkness? is it the lack of light? is it a pit of nothingness? ... your mind is full of darkness...” then he couldn’t continue.

the story is about a kid who wakes up in a cell and has no idea where he is with other people who are in the same situation

dream has a world building document

he has a sequel to the first book he has ever written

he found a query letter that he wrote because he wanted to get his book published- he finds it very funny

he’s calling himself a nerd but idk it’s kind of endearing

“as you can tell i’ve always been incredibly cool and not a nerd at all! ever.”

he cringes at his own old videos

dream took a lot of inspiration from witches and wizards by james patterson for writing

the story is written in a way where the main character is actually writing the story so you’re getting input from the main character during it. there’s a lot of sarcasm in it and it’s making dream laugh

very first person narrator

he feels like it’d be very cool if he were to publish his works he wrote when he was 16 on amazon or something but he probably never would because he’d have to read through all of it and it’s just embarrassing for him

dream used to video call sapnap fairly frequently- even before youtube

he strictly remembers, a very long time (at least 7 to 9 years) ago he was at his old childhood house he video called sapnap. he was wearing a (technically) suit and he remembers specifically that he was giving sap a tour... 

“snazzy in a suit”

he had no reason to put on the suit (wow time is a flat circle huh)

drista is pretty close to sapnap’s height, she’s like 5′7″ but sap is still taller than her

dream filmed the whole thing when he and sapnap met but... it’s... gone because when he was clipping that one clip for twitter... it edited the whole video

he’s sure when they meet up with george they will film that too :D

DREAM IS PRETTY SURE THAT HE AND GEORGE WILL MEET THIS YEAR-- HE SAYS A 95% CERTAINTITY the five percent is like either restrictions or visa issues

dream does not play any instruments but he had a guitar hanging on his wall when he was younger...

dream is convinced they’re the same height but also sapnap is probably taller??

they had george compare his height to a door frame and dreamnap were googling for any doorframes to find any possible chance that george is taller than 5′8″ ... nothing came up

there’s a chance they’re both lying about being 5′8″

sap and george will literally just show up in stilts to prove they’re taller than each other /j

dream without shoes is between 6′2″ and 6′3″ with shoes he’s 6′3.5″

dream is talking about awesamdude’s fake height arc again LOL

dreamnap are very private people so they don’t bother each other but george doesn’t care and would just barge into their rooms and start bothering them- they were all joking about that over a voice call

he will visit europe

he thinks that greece would be a cool place to visit because sapnap’s family is from there :) so it’ll be like a nice “treat” to go back with sap :D

dream isn’t entirely sure that the dream team meet up will happen this year but he’s working out the details because he wants to make sure it’s safe

he’s talking to youtube about his face reveal

it’s up to george if he wants to eat healthy when they finally move in

dream just has a lot of meat and vegetables in his house

spinach with chicken is good

not much fruit (only apples and tomatoes)

“DRISTA IS 5″ is trending on twitter LOL (her height got cut off)

dream doesn’t want people flying to different places because he doesn’t want to encourage travel so he wants to do all of the meet ups with a two day heads up at most

he thinks that it’s awesome that ranboo and tubbo are meeting soon !! :D

it’s very cool to dream to see how far everyone’s has come since the beginning of the dsmp. everyone has done so much

dream finalized his youtube plan a couple weeks before he uploaded his video and he was talking to drista about how he was gonna be a big youtuber in a parking lot :”)

she was the first person he really ever talked to about it

dream would love to teach george how to drive it’d be really funny :D (a very good video or a livestream idea) 

dream knows how to ride a bike, he used to have to bike to school

he can’t explain dnf.gay he has no clue he is not responsible. sapnap was the one who found it LOL. he is adamantly exclaiming that it was not him

dream doesn’t worry about views/likes/dislikes a lot- mainly views but that’s for the new uploads

he hasn’t uploaded in like a month and a half (*cries*)

he wants to stream at some point but he doesn’t know when 

he wants to play geoguessr but not now... he doesn’t want to alt stream rn- maybe tomorrow!

he is insisting that the splash text on his minecraft home screen is by callahan

he asked callahan to send him bunch of text files that are dream team related so that the splash can rotate through it but callahan thought it was funny (it is) to put only dreamnotfound <3 so it doesn’t ever change at all and dream doesn’t even know how to change and he has asked callahan to change it but he said no (even though dream pays him LMAO)

the video referenced in the padilla’s video is still in the works, it might be handed over to sapnap though !

he has no idea if he will be in MCC pride yet

padilla got dream’s input for the video, dream found him to be a very nice guy ! :) it’s the first interview that dream did that wasn’t by a person with a negative opinion of dream

dream felt relaxed doing the interview with padilla 

?????? he’s blaming callahan for his “dnfisreal” nickname in bedwars 

he’s blaming callahan for a lot of dnf-related stuff

callahan runs the dream fanart account thus the liking of dnf content

he’s so insistent that it was callahan

dream admits that he was lying about the twitter and other stuff but for sure callahan did code the splash text in LOL

dream liking that tweet “the chances of george doing a hot tub stream is the same of dnf dating” was “funny” he wasnt trying to do any commentary...

the inside joke of “oh it’s all just a joke to you” originates from george and sapnap actually always fighting (like them yelling and shouting at each other) and george said something really mean and sapnap was hurt then geroge said “it was just a joke” and sapnap replied with that line and ever since then it’s been a meme LOL

he says that everyone does the hand-on-the-passenger-seat-while-reversing thing

dream is offline raiding with his chat with 6k people

dream appreciates us and will talk to us soon! 

[wornoutmouse]

May I request Ogun with a Black shy female reader doing a training session that leads to a little bit more 🙈

Anon please

You’re a second-generation pyrokinetic (Like Joker and Maki). Idk why but I made up in my head that you have flint-bottomed tap-dancing shoes that briefly light when you scrape your feet against the floor…..so that’s where you get your fire from 🤣🤣🤣

This one is a bit longer than normal cause i gotta build the tension

I am terrible at action scenes bruh

Chug- lift heels, slide forward, and then drop the heels at the end of the slide forwards

“Hey, Y/n!” You look up from the bland mashed potatoes and corn Company 5 had prepared. It was a hot Sunday morning and your partner in crime was as excited as ever. He stood a few feet away at the back entrance in the cafeteria. Cocking a thumb behind him, he dawns a toothy grin. “Want to play a quick game?” The game Ogun hinted at was one you were quite familiar with and one you should have known he would ask you to participate in today. “Fine, but don’t cry when I win.” You scoop another spoonful of corn before tossing your tray away for recycling. You’d need all your strength cause Ogun never lost without asking for back-to-back redos.

.You didn’t quite understand the need to be sweaty all the time, but always gave in to his whims

Ogun preferred to train in the field where the sun shined the most throughout the day at the far left of the Company. Often as you went on throughout your day-to-day training, you’d spot Ogun doing laps and practicing his attacks throughout the day.

“I’m feeling fired up today Y/n, you might want to be worried.” You close your eyes as you stretched an arm over your chest. You had yet to lose but you knew Ogun only saw that as a personal goal to get past. “Let’s get this over with, I’m tired.” The smell of smoke enters your nostrils giving you enough time to dodge Oguns boosted attack. “I told you about letting yourself known Mr. Montgomery.” You open your eyes, Oguns skin was lit ablaze with his pyrokinetic abilities.

From afar you’ve always admired the swirls that decorated his skin whenever you got amped up, and this time was no different. “I see you’re already using “Flaming Ink” what, you already scared?” Ogun widened his stance, glowing white eyes watching you shift your feet. “I’ve been working on a new move that I want to show you so why don’t you try your little fire trick.”

Curious, you scuff your shoe on the floor and draw your fire...only the fire doesn’t come. You do it again and the light goes out just as quick as it came. “What did you do?” You narrowed your eyes at Ogun. “Oh nothing, I’m just faster than you now.” You take a few steps back, “Oh that’s how you want to play it? Okay!” You take off running at the very edge of the field and Ogun is fast behind you. Internally you admit that he had gotten much faster, but a simple fact as that wasn’t going to make you lose.

Doing your best to maintain speed, you chug and draw the flames close to your chest out of Montgomery’s line of sight. It was small, mostly snuffed by the kick of your legs as you ran but it was big enough to get the job done. Similar to Ogun in his natural state, you too could throw projectiles just not as damage-inducing.

Turning around as you run, your eyes widen when Ogun appears just inches in front of you, “Surprise!” Your flame is snuffed and you tumble bringing Montgomery down with you. You prepare to feel your body be crushed by his muscled one but at the last minute your shoulders are grabbed and you flip again. The change in elevation causes you to lose a bit of focus, but you can still clearly feel Ogun cushion your fall.

“Oh wow, this looks like something out of an anime.” Ogun laughs when he finds himself lying flat on his back, you positioned comfortably on top of him. The position was completely ridiculous with your thighs straddling his stomach but you were thankful that you wouldn’t be in any sort of pain later.

“Looks like I’ll need to train harder huh?” You playfully punch Ogun’s shoulder. Even though the whole ordeal only lasted 6 minutes, you could feel your back drenched with sweat. While you couldn’t wait to get in the shower, Ogun seemed content with being in a salty state. “You’re dripping all over me you know?” Your head immediately snapped down to look at Ogun with wide eyes, “Excuse me?”

Ogun had a neutral look on his face not hinting at any humor behind his words. “You’re sweating really bad. Did little ole me get you all worked up?” He had to be teasing you at this point, but you couldn’t find a single crack in his facade. “Yeah well, maybe if you didn’t choose this big ass field with no trees I wouldn’t be 2 seconds from passing out.” You stand up, a bit wobbly, and help him up. “I’m going to go shower, you can stay out here if you want to.”

Ogun happily joins you on the way to the showers. You could hear his excitement from finally beating you. “Don’t get cocky, it was a one-time occurrence Ogun.” An arm is slung over your shoulder. In a smug tone, Ogun mocks you, “Don’t be mad cause you lost. You’ve had enough time to be cocky on your own terms.” You gasp mockingly before turning your head to spit back a remark but lose your breath from how close his face is to yours. At such close proximity, you become aware of small details. How his skin shinned in the sunlight, how Oguns eyes contained such a very specific hue of orange that they mimicked the fire of Sol almost precisely. You even wouldn’t be surprised if they would burn to the touch.

“What’s the matter, got nothing to say?” Out of instinct, you shove his head away with so much force he goes flying before landing on his ass. Before any questions are asked you deflect, “Gross I got your B.O all on my shoulders.” From behind Ogun scoffs, “How dare you, any other fine lady would be blessed to be near my manly musk.” Stifling a laugh you utter one final tease before slipping into the girl’s shower, “Yeah, manly must.”

It was endless labor as your captain followed you around, blowing that damn whistle. Given laundry duty, you had to take multiple shifts back and forth throughout each level of the building to collect everyone’s clothing. When you came across Ogun’s level your job was hindered as you were forced to wait as he sifts through his piles of dirty laundry, “Trush me Y/n, there’s a shirt that I accidentally put in here but it’s actually clean.” “Ogun if it’s in the dirty clothes then it’s dirty.” You try to haul his stuff out but he stops you. “I swear if you don’t move I’ll burn your stuff.”

Ogun chuckles, “You burn my clothes and it’ll catch your clothing as well.” Ogun reaches inside the pile you held pulling out a blank white T-shirt that looked annoyingly similar to the 12 other T-shirts you had watched him toss to the side. “Unless of course, you’re trying to go streaking which by all means I encourage you to.” You ignore his joke and pretend it doesn’t strike a certain feeling in your gut.

For your next task, you had to prepare different levels of activities for a group of 5th graders coming to the company the next day. Of course, Ogun would be assigned to the same task as well so while you worked diligently to bring equipment from the storage room, Ogun spent his time using each of the items incorrectly. “Please stop bouncing the footballs with the tennis racket before you get hurt.” Ogun ignored you as he dribbled with the racket. “Don’t be mad cause you’re not as creative as me.”

Well, as you predicted Ogun ends up getting punted in the face when he tries to toss the football in the hoop. Even though the sound it made on impact was loud and hollow, Ogun barely flinches when it ricochets. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with getting hit in the face with balls, you barely moved.” Ogun glared as he watched you pick up the football. Absentmindedly you spin the football as you speak, “You know if I didn’t know any bet-” Your speech is gargled when your mouth becomes stuffed.

While you weren’t watching Ogun through a basketball at your hand making you push the end of the football in your mouth. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with balls in your mouth, you gotta show me some time.” You cradle your mouth, it throbbed with dull pain and resentment filled your mind. “I’m sure it’ll be easy, there aren’t going to be too many inches stopping me.”

At this point, both your nerves are on high alert, and the energy in the air shifts from playful to angry. “Oh yeah?” Ogun walks slowly and calmly towards you, raising a brow when you stumble back yet still maintain your glare. The hand cradling your jaw is held tightly in his grasp, “Would you like to try?” The dare only eggs you on, “You won’t last a second.” The faint twitch of his temple lets you know you hit a nerve.

*Wheeeeze*

Both you and Ogun’s heads snap to the left. Pan stood at the gym doorway arms waving and whistle blowing, a clear attempt at reprimanding your laziness. The playful aura comes back and you and Ogun are subjected to extra work for your negligence. “This is your fault you know.” he shoots back, “I don’t want to hear it Montgomery.”

Ogun walked down the hallway in search of a new victim to torture, so it was only pure convenience when he stumbled near your living quarters and caught you just before you walked inside. “Y/n! You were absent for dinner.” You take one look at him before dashing into your room. All you wanted was to sleep, training with Ogun, and then having to complete your own set of chores plus extra was tiering. So seeing Ogun wandering out and about during the late hours only met trouble.

You jolt from your train of thought as your door is banged on. “Go away Montgomery, I’m trying to sleep.” Ogun whined, “Well you weren’t trying too hard cause you weren’t in your room yet, now let me in.” You kicked the door back, “No, now go away!”

No sound is heard, not even a shuffle. Sighing you walk towards your bed with a content smile, you’d apologize to him later but now it was your time for rest. Heavy wind billowed through your opened window making you shiver as the curtains tickle your skin. The sharp coolness made your teeth rattle but it was just the right amount of cool you needed in order to head off quickly to dream land. Turning the dial of your lamp, your room is shrouded in darkness and you climb underneath the covers. Nothing could stop the relaxation you were about to receive…….nothing but the feeling of “something ain’t right.”

Opening your eyes and expecting the worse, you are then greeted with the worst as the same fiery eyes you admired hours before, hovered above your face. “You should really close your window.” You scream and throw a punch in Oguns direction but it is in vain as he catches it and pins it down. “I should really get you back for doing that earlier.” Ogun doesn’t make any move to let you go or even speak again. “How the hell did you get there so fast?” You are unable to look away from his eyes, nothing else would have mattered anyway.

More wind blows through your curtains. “I told you I’ve gotten faster.” You can feel his breath caressing your cheek the closer he gets to your face. The hand wrapped around your wrist tightens despite your body being slackened. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah”

No one knows who moved first. All you know is that your pajamas were being ripped off of your body as Ogun aggressively devoured your lips. Tossing everything to the ground, Ogun sits above you, with his shirt was off, you are given the liberty to admire his chiseled body. Ogun makes quick work with fingering you open, watching with a toothy grin as your chest shakes and your breath stutters. “Not talking much now are you?” He doesn’t care if you respond, all he cares about is wearing you down. You pull him closer, nails dragging down his back, as your orgasm overwhelms you. “Ogun!” Your legs are hiked up and over his shoulders as he positions below you.

“Good job, I don’t want to hear anything else but my name.” The stretch was burning and filled you tightly. “How many inches you think that is?” You weakly slap Ogun’s arm as he weakly ruts into you before pulling out completely, “S-Stop making fun of me.” “ Aww, but it’s fun!” Ogun is slow and precise as he mashes his hips forward. There is no hesitation and the pace stays at a fluid toe-curling pressure. “You’re so silent now Y/n. Tell me, how does it feel, huh?” Your back raises from off the bed, “It...good-I oh god!”

The simple fact that you couldn’t speak sent tremors to Oguns cock. He wanted to tease you more, make you break. Your pussy was wet and sopping for him and not even Sol could make him stop fucking you, not when you looked so beautiful underneath him. But a mischievous streak doesn’t go away that easy.

Leaning back on his haunches, you are put back on top of Ogun, the same position you were in when on the feild. He doesn’t move and just looks at you, “What are, what are you doing?” You try to bounce but he holds you down making you pulse around him. “Please let me move.” But he doesn’t, the only movement you get is when you’re held down harder on his cock. “How many inches Y/n?” You shrug, “I don’t freaking know like 5 or something!?” You just wanted to cum not answer a random questionnaire.

Ogun uses his strength to lift you up and slam you back down. “Wrong, try again.” It takes a moment for you to catch the breath that got knocked out at the second stroke. “Do you really want me to stroke your stupid ego, fine 8inches!” You are slammed down again and this time it hits a special spot just short of your G. “Wrong again, don’t be a smart ass Y/n” He rubbed your side. “Come on, play my game for a little bit, don’t you want to cum on my dick?” Oguns hands squeeze your breasts, thumbs rotating the dark circles of your areolas leaving your nipples to tingle in need.

“Si-Six damn it! It has to be like 6.” your answer is mumbled but is loud enough to satisfy Ogun. As if you weighed nothing less than a piece of paper, Ogun uses his thighs to bounce you on his cock. Your chest bounces in his face taking his immature mind to cloud nine. He could feel the tell tell sign of his own orgasms cumming, as your ass slammed down on his shaft. “Stop squeezing down so damn hard!”

Being the person you are, you don’t listen even after you feel Ogun spill inside of you. “Oh fuck!” You rearrange your own legs and start bouncing at your own pace. The tight grip on your waist means nothing as you chase your second cumming. “Hurry up you little shit my balls are burning!” Ogun tossed his head back as his mouth releases cracked moans. His cock continued to twitch as it became softer but still stimulated. Soon, Ogun couldn’t take the stimuli anymore and pushes you down on the bed. The feeling of his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy was a little less satisfying than his cock but you cream around it just as easily.

You lay down giggling while Ogun goes in and out of sleep. “I was right, you didn’t last a second.” “Shut the hell up, you’re like a vice.” Your sweaty state somehow doesn’t bother you as you rest in the afterglow. Your blinds continue to shimmer as the wind continues to blow. “Five and a half.” The numbers mean nothing to your muddled brain, “What?” Ogun looks at you, “5 and a half inches is the correct answer but I appreciate the 6.”

Suddenly the glow was no longer worth it.

[hexfloog]

Tonight we screm about... LIFELINES

Earlier today, I sent an... admittedly very poorly-phrased question about Gadgetless Conan to a DCMK server - you know, like someone who doesn't proofread.

(I know it was bad because nobody answered me... rightfully so, lmao)

There was a reason for it though!! What I was thinking about was E2, Company President's Daughter Kidnapping Case/The Kidnapped Debutante, and E129, The Girl from the Black Organization.

Rambling below the cut!!

In episode two, it's made horribly clear to us just how harrowing Shinichi's situation has become, even at surface-level. The point is obviously to contrast against the Shinichi we're shown in episode one, who is physically adept, well-liked by authority, and generally comfortable in life. In the span of a single episode, he becomes alienated by symbols of his former self-- his house, which he cannot enter; his clothes, which he cannot fit; his friends, who he cannot confide in; and his own name, which he cannot utter-- and we begin watching him struggle to acclimate to the life of someone who is infantilized at every turn (until he isn't, cough), the degree of which is illustrated most plainly in this first case solved as "Conan."

You only get one shot to establish the floor of a setup like this, and I think they did a pretty good job of it. I'm biased in favor of the Funimation dub, of course:

"You've gotta be kidding me!! I can't even kick a soccer ball anymore!

Aaaaaugh, the panic in his voice.

Anyway, I bring this up in conjunction with The Girl from the Black Organization because, before Shinichi realizes he's being played, Ai taunts him with some dialogue which I found-- among pretty much everything else she says in these two minutes-- pretty chilling:

And she's right - Shinichi flounders so much in episode two because... he really is helpless! He's completely gadgetless for the duration of the case, completely stolen from his former physical prowess (and the familiarity that comes with it), and just to add insult to injury he doesn't even know how to properly masquerade as a child yet, which is arguably the only trick he has when naked (so to speak). As Haibara says... without Agasa, Shinichi has no liberation from the physical weakness of his child body.

So... that got me thinking... Shinichi has a support system that is already loosely established even by this point, composed of people who know his secret, lifelines which bring him back to himself when it seems like there is no escape from his false identity. What are they?

Agasa is, as established above, Shinichi's lifeline to his physical strength and, arguably, his authority. His gadgets allow the young detective to arm himself-- both in the conventional sense, and with a reliable wealth of trickery to skirt the dismissiveness often invited by his child appearance... whether that means simple antics or straight-up mimicking the voices of dead people to scare culprits into confessing WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS--

His parents are, obviously, his connection to family. They are also his general safety net, in the event he chooses to give up... or is forced to.

Heiji is Shinichi's lifeline to companionship. As I mentioned earlier, once he becomes Conan, Shinichi is put in a place where he can no longer confide in his friends (namely, Ran). Heiji, after learning his secret-- and in his ostensibly wholesome habit of seeing right through the veil of Conan every single time-- offers Shinichi a chance to just... be himself without the smoke and mirrors. When the circumstances of his life force him to wear the skin of someone else at every waking moment, I feel Shinichi could very well forget what genuine camaraderie feels like. Also he's the first one to offer Shinichi any semblance of hope for the end of his predicament (albeit unknowingly), how could he not have a place here omg

Haibara is something of an enigma. Admittedly, I have not seen enough of her to be able to say anything (with confidence) on her apparent role in Shinichi's system, but every time she speaks I swear this girl has something PATENTLY 10/10 to contribute asddgfhj. For me, and for all I've seen so far, she represents his value system (and by extension, retribution?) and is the closest I've seen this show come to gray morality. In this very episode Agasa has to hold Shinichi back when their conversation quite clearly turns to challenging who he thinks deserves to be called a victim and I-- mmmmMMMM

More on that in another post about this ep because there's no WAY I'm going to be able to cover everything I wanna say about it in this one aaaaa. Also I do not know at this point whether Vermouth would also fit into this role, I haven't gotten there yet

(Now for this last one... I realize Movie Canon is technically its own thing, but tbh I want the movie and show canon(s) to overlap so much in my mind that I don't even care sorry not sorry--)

...Kaito Kid.* Honestly this boy is such a wildcard, his relationship with Shinichi is so unique and multifaceted that he most definitely plays more than one part in this support system I've interpreted for him in my head. At the very least, being The Foil, it stands to reason he would play a very similar role to Agasa, but rather than bringing him back to the familiarity of his physical body, he keeps him on his toes by pushing his ambition and testing his deductive prowess, which... is especially interesting to me, given that Shinichi never loses that part of him post-transformation. Passion, then, is perhaps his role (or at least one of them): to remind Shinichi of his purpose, of what gives him life... away from the grim backdrop of his circumstance, and removed from the shadow of the Organization... because even in the body of little Conan, that fire could not be stolen from him. Kaito may or may not be doing this consciously (for all intents and purposes, most likely not) but it's still an intriguing thought to entertain, I think...

(*Yusaku could technically overlap with this also, but imo both Shinichi's parents are far too aware of the threat of the Black Organization, I think-- as they should be, being his parents and all.)

(*Heiji could also be the one who stokes this fire, but there's a markedly distinct difference between sharing a passion, and weaponizing it)

Wow uhhHHH idk how to cap off this post uhmm... that's all I've got for now, next time I screm about... YOU CAN'T SAVE EVERYONE (still this ep, bc 129 is SUCH a treasure trove of ideas)

if you've gotten this far tysm for reading much love <333

[thefanficmonster]

Rough Road

Corpse Husband x Daughter of Tupac and Selena!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Relationship Struggles, Swearing

Genre: Angst with Fluffy ending, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A relationship between two people living two completely different lives is expected to be difficult. Him enveloped by his privacy he doesn’t want to risk losing and her with a craving for privacy she never fully gets. It has never been easy for them and it won’t get easier, but they’ve gotten stronger.

Requested by @lillypadmochi Hi dear! Thank you so much for such a creative and wonderful request, I’ve been really excited to write it and post it but I’m still very sorry for how long you’ve had to wait for it. Still, I hope you enjoy it if you happen to read it! Love, Vy ❤

She lives in the spotlight, continuing the legacy of her deceased parents - the father and mother that were taken from her so soon after she was brought into this world. She doesn’t remember either of them, and she can’t come to terms with that fact. She can’t stomach it even today, twenty-six years after the murder of her mother, Selena shook the world to its core - all just a year before the murder of her father Tupac was on the news too. Rightfully so, that’s not something you can just get over, and she’s afraid she never will. The ever-present pain follows her everywhere, giving her no relief.

But it does give her a break when she’s on stage, when she’s singing her heart out, giving her all in a performance, pouring her heart out to the people cheering, the crowd calling her name, the thousands upon thousands of voices singing along to her songs, singing alongside her like she knows her mother and father would. That’s when she feels closest to them, she feels the gentle caress of their hands on her hair or cheek, she sees their smiles and nods of approval, she hears them singing in harmony along with her. She knows, deep down she’s sure they can hear her. They can hear her songs and they couldn’t be more proud of her and how far she’s come.

The spotlight, the stage, that’s her home. Her temple of spirituality where she connects to the people she never got the time to love properly before losing them. Now she’s left loving them while surrounded by their absence, reminded that they loved her unconditionally but she never got the time to show her love for them. She never got the chance to prove to them how special they were to her. So she still, till this day, gives her all to show it and she’ll keep doing so until her forever ends. She’ll keep reminding herself that their love resides with her beyond their death and her love can still reach them on the other side.

But in order to do so, she’s gotta stay under the lights and watchful eyes of fans, paparazzi and managers. She has to give up every ounce of privacy she could ever ask for. She’s prepared to do that within a blink of an eye. She always has been.

Well, she always was. Until she met him.

He, unlike her, prefers the shadows that provide him endless privacy and solitude. He likes being detached, alone, lonesome, lonely. That’s the only way he feels safe. He trusts no one, or at least very few people. He’s afraid of what those he lets in will do to him. How they’ll react to who he really is. When they’ll leave. With the people in his life, it’s never a matter of if they leave, but when they leave. People always leave him, willingly or otherwise. And he’s grown to become numb to it. He’s grown to not give a shit anymore. Or not as much, that is. He obviously cares plenty, the darkness of his loneliness getting to him every now and then. His demons eating away at his sanity, ripping his illusion of peace to shreds. He’d be at peace if he could get along with his mind which always seems to be working against him, working to bring him down, leave him hopeless, helpless and restless.

No one’s ever understood his pain. She doesn’t either, but she at least helps soothe it.

She’s unlike anyone he’s ever met before. She has much power and strength yet is so vulnerable and fragile sometimes. Her smile shines brightly, just like the tears in her eyes when the nights get heavy. She’s his pillar and sometimes she’s the sunken boat he’s attempting to save. She’s so many things, but never too many, never too overwhelming.

Always perfectly enough for him.

And he’s unlike anyone she’s ever met before too. She’s always found herself surrounded by people who were open books, practically begging her to read them, have a look into their mind and soul. She never wanted that responsibility - the darkness of someone else’s mind is not something she can bear along with her own. But his is weirdly comforting. His darkness, she wants to get to know, to understand. She can’t see it at first glance, but she can definitely feel it. And she wants to help him with it. For the first time in her life, she’s willing to dig underneath someone’s surface to see what they’re hiding, what’s troubling them.

It’s been long since she’s cared so deeply about someone. It’s a feeling she hasn’t felt in so long and it scares her. But it still comforts her somehow, reminding her she’s not gone numb yet.

However, there’s a very fine line between them, the line separating the light from the darkness. The line between the shadows and the spotlight. The line neither of them want to cross yet they still do.

Every night they cross that line and find themselves entangled in each other’s arms, tightly holding onto one another fearing the line will reappear and separate them. The flashing of cameras and the glow of the spotlight will blind him, or the darkness will finally pollute her mind enough to break her, the shadows coming to life to torture her.

But none of that matters when they’re by each other’s side. He’ll fend the shadows off, allowing them to attack him only since he’s used to them by now. And she’ll keep the lights away from him, keep his privacy intact, keep him safe in the dark he finds so comfortable.

They’ll always keep each other safe.

“I love you, Corpse.“ She says, their foreheads touching under the glow of the moonlight seeping in through the window blinds.

“I love you too, Y/N.“ He replies, pulling her closer as their eyelids fall closed.

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[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #203

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we've only got one goal in mind: Golems! Thanks to Avicebron, we'll make just that; lots and lots of golems! Avicebron is a Battle Smith Artificer, so you'll always have at least one on standby.

Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: I did naht kill him, I did naht. Oh hi Mark.

Race and Background

Avvy might not look it, but he's still a Variant Human, giving him +1 Intelligence and Wisdom, plus proficiency with Deception to keep your mentees close and your golem ingredients just as close, plus you get the Servo Crafting feat! You can cast Find Familiar as a ritual, but instead of getting an animal, you build a small golem called a Servo. You can speak with and through the servo, plus sense through it, as long as you share a plane of existence. You can also attack with the servo instead of your wimpy noodlearms once per attack action.

You're also a Cloistered Scholar, which gives you History and Religion proficiency. You are nerd! No duh!

Ability Scores

Your Intelligence should be pretty high, you make golems and you don't afraid of anything, that's what you do. After that is Dexterity, you're better off not getting hit than anything else, and also having 4 arms means you're pretty good at sleight of hand. Wisdom is also pretty good, you're a religious man, and while you don't get power from that you're still wise. Unfortunately we gotta make Strength the next highest stat. I mean, two of your arms are robots, so I guess it kinda works? Your Charisma is pretty low, you just don't care about people that much, but we're dumping Constitution. Trust me, it'll make sense in a bit. (Don't do this in-game, this is a flavor thing, you WILL DIE)

Class Levels

You're 100% artificer, so you start off with Magical Tinkering, letting you stuff minor magical effects into tiny items. I don't know why you'd make a fart sound producing golem out of a pen, but I'm not Avicebron. You also learn Spells. They use your Intelligence score for prep and casting. Grab Mage Hand to build a little drone to carry stuff for you, and Message for a messenger golem. Really you can take whatever spells you like as long as you call them golems, but the most golemy are Alarm golem and Catapult golem. Why throw stuff when you can just make it throw itself? You also get proficiency in a buncha stuff, like Constitution and Intelligence saves, plus Nature to figure out good materials for golems and Arcana to build them!

Second level artificers can Infuse Items, adding cool effects to up to two items per long rest from a list of four options. Grab Armor of Tools so you'll always have your golem-making kit on ya, Enhanced Arcane Focus for stronger golems, Homunculus Servant for a golem, and Mind Sharpener to help keep track of your golems. I can already tell golem isn't even gonna look like a word by the end of this build.

Your artificer subclass is the Battle Smith, which makes you Battle Ready, so your golems can use martial weapons. Of course you're not swinging them yourself, so you can use your intelligence instead of strength when attacking with magical weapons. You also get a second permanent golem, the Steel Defender! You gotta use your bonus action to make it do stuff, but it'll hit people, repair stuff, and protect its allies! Also, you can cast Mending on it to heal it. You don't have that yet, but you will! You can also make The Right Tool for the Job over a long rest, and you also get subclass spells for free. Heroism makes a very pretty golem that inspires all your allies to not get scared and get temporary HP. Shield makes a golem that'll stand in front of someone as a reaction, adding 5 to their AC and blocking magic missiles for a round.

Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Intelligence. You use it for pretty much everything, so your brain's gotta be good!

Fifth level battlesmiths get an Extra Attack, so your servo, your steel defender, and your sword-holding golem can all attack at the same time. You also get second level spells, like Branding Smite and Warding Bond. Neither of those are golems tho. Grab Rope Trick for the first of many rope golems, and Enlarge/Reduce for later. Adam's a big boy, so you've gotta make a big golem.

Sixth level artificers get Tool Expertise, doubling your proficiency bonus with all tools. Golem making is complicated, the DCs are gonna be high. You also get two more blueprints and one more infused item, like a Spell-Refueling Ring for extra spell slots and a Rope of Climbing for another rope-based golem to help your bad climbing skills.

At seventh level you get so smart you have Flashes of Genius, adding your intelligence modifier to checks and saves near you intelligence modifier times per long rest. Yeah, it's actually just weirdly specific golems.

Bump up your Intelligence this ASI for more of everything you like. Smrt.

Ninth level battle smiths add an Arcane Jolt to their steel defender and magical weapons. Once per turn, intelligence modifier times per long rest, you can either add extra force damage to the hit, or heal a nearby creature. Still not sure how to make those golems, but you'll figure something out, you've got 20 Intelligence! You also get third level spells, like an Aura of Vitality golem and a Conjure Barrage golem. You can also can Create Food and Water golems for gathering, or turn just about anything into a Tiny Servant. For up to 8 hours after casting, you can turn a tiny object into a tiny creature, commanding it as a bonus action. Finally, a spell that makes golems! You can also use Glyph of Warding now, though it won't be that useful for the build until you get fourth level spells. The idea is, you can keep a bunch of these bad boys in your base, all set to trigger against a creature that knocks you down to 0 HP. All of them summon constructs, beating up the guy after you're already unconscious. This is the closest we could get to Avicebron's third skill, D&D doesn't really plan for character death that well. Also, just a correction. I just found out you can't carry glyphs around without them breaking :(

Tenth level artificers are Magic Item Adepts, giving you an extra attunement slot and you can create uncommon magic items for cheaper. You also get the Mending cantrip for golems, and two more blueprints for an extra infused item. The Helm of Awareness will help you stay out of trouble, and the Periapt of Wound Closure makes it easier to not die. Your master strategy is all about getting knocked out, so it would be nice if you automatically stabilize.

Eleventh level artificers can create Spell-Storing Items, stuffing weapons or focii full of first/second level magical goodness. It's like you're casting the spell, but it uses the other guy's concentration.

Another ASI! Bump up your Dexterity for less dying.

With fourth level spells, you can cast all sorts of golems. You're stuck with Aura of Purity and Fire Shield, but you also get an Arcane Eye for a drone golem, plus Mordenkainen's Faithful Hound and Summon Construct for fighting golems.

As a Magic Item Savant you get another attunement slot, and you can ignore requirements when attuning magic items. You also get the Prestidigitation cantrip to make whatever small tools you need for a second, and two more blueprints for one more infusion. Bracers of Defense will help you not die if you don't think Avicebron's outfit is armor, and the Ring of Protection will also do that regardless.

At fifteenth level you get your last subclass improvement, the Improved Defender. Your arcane jolt gets bigger, and your golem gets tougher and can reflect damage, not just deflect it.

Use the rest of your ASI to bump up your Wisdom. Making yourself better isn't in character, so just be wise.

You've got fifth level spells! Banishing smite isn't a golem, but I guess Mass Cure Wounds could be Adam's feet? Idk. You can also use Bigby's Hand for Adam's hand, and Animate Objects for more item-based golems. Now you can turn your trusty frying pan into a-golem. Everything turns into a golem.

Eighteenth level artificers are Magic Item Masters, letting you attune to six items at the same time. You also get two more blueprints, so grab two copies of Arcane Propulsion Arm for the four arms of your third ascension. Arms are cool.

One last ASI, grab more Wisdom.

Your capstone ability grants you a Soul of Artifice, giving you a +1 bonus to all your saves for each magic item you're attuned to, and you can destroy an infusion to drop to 1 HP instead of 0. Remember, getting KOd only helps if you're near one of your glyphs.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

Between your Steel Defender, servo, tiny servants, and animated objects, you don't have to do much. Plus you can just rope trick away and let them take care of everything!

If your DM ever tries to spook the party by fighting you in your own base, you can spook him right back by taking a fall and filling your study with angry golems.

With expertise and flashes to help your repairs along plus mending, you're a great repairman. If the DM tries to block your path with a broken bridge, it won't stay broken for long. Plus, your warforged allies will love you.

Cons:

DONT DUMP CON. You have less than 100 HP at level 20, and your constitution save is really bad (for an artificer). Don't do it. Look me in the eyes, don't. do it!

Having any part of your battle plan being getting knocked out is not going to make you popular with your party members. Maybe you should help out yourself? Nah, golems are better.

All of your infusions and spells are focused on helping yourself, a stark contrast to most of our artificer builds. Keeping all your toys to yourself will not help your party like you, especially with a +0 charisma.

[lookforanewangle]

hold on a little longer || spn || 2k || ao3

tags: blood, injury, broken bones, hurt/comfort, and forehead touches! also protective dean and protective cas

Between the spells, and the warding, and the combination of grace and Rowena's power, they thought they had been prepared.

Chuck, however, always seemed to be one step ahead of them.

or, Cas's grace is dwindling, Dean is dying, and both of them are too protective of the other for their own good.

a/n: inspired by this post by @letsboldlygomotherfuckers and @rainbowscas

also, I’m also playing in my hci verse here a little bit; all you need to know is that chuck turns to this universe after the show's canon (and yes, I believe in the chuck won theory, it's the only thing that makes sense), and tries to mix things up a bit. cas is introduced when dean is 13 instead of 28? 29? there are a lot of other changes, but those don't play into this scene, so I'm not gonna spoil anything else ;) this bit wouldn't come in until fic four or five anyway. idk if I'll ever write that far, but here's hoping!! (fic one is like.....a little over halfway done. I think. we have a long way to go lmao)

Between the spells, and the warding, and the combination of grace and Rowena's power, they thought they had been prepared.

Chuck, however, always seemed to be one step ahead of them.

"How?" Cas bites between waves of pain, arms bound tight behind him. There's blood dripping down his face, a shoulder dislocated, maybe a rib cracked, but his pain is nothing close to what Dean must be feeling.

Dean, who is just a mess of broken bones and skin on the floor.

“Because, see, I already know what’s going to happen,” Chuck says, pacing leisurely around them, tilting down towards Dean's unconscious form as he speaks. His footsteps are quiet in the vast emptiness of the warehouse, but each step seems to pound in time with Cas’s own injuries, pain driving higher at each step. For all Cas knows, Chuck could be doing that on purpose.

“Your brother will come racing in to save you,” Chuck continues, gesturing as he speaks, “and Jack will be there, too. They’ll make some valiant effort to save the two of you, try to beat me at my own game, but it’s not going to work. I’ve written every possibility, every scenario that could ever happen. Each one, I win. It's literally impossible for me to lose!” he says with a giddy grin, arms spreading out to his sides in victory.

Cas strains against his bonds, wrists tied much too tightly against the small of his back, eyes never leaving Dean’s too-still form on the floor.

“Dean,” Cas calls, but Dean doesn’t stir. His limbs are bent at awkward angles, the whole of him a heap atop blood splattered across the ground. Too much blood. Cas would almost think he was dead if not for the wheezing emanating from Dean’s chest at every shallow breath, every minuscule rise and fall. If he could just get close enough—

Chuck’s fist hits his face, and Cas crashes to the ground with a grunt.

“I never did get you figured out,” Chuck says, crouching in front of him. He tilts his head as he observes Cas struggle back into a sitting position. “Whatever changed, whatever you did in the last universe bled over into this one, and now we’re at the same end here as we were there. Well, almost. Close enough, anyway. You, grace failing and doing everything you can to save Dean, nearing death at every second. Dean will follow soon after, no matter what you do,” Chuck says with a helpless shrug. “It’s just how it’s supposed to go. Then again, if you hadn’t broken script…”

He trails off suggestively, and Cas’s blood runs cold. No. No. Dean’s coming death couldn’t— wouldn’t— be his fault.

“Dean’s not dying today,” Cas says, determined, voice gravelly.

“That’s not up to you,” Chuck counters. He reaches his hand out towards Cas and squeezes. Cas’s chest constricts in pain. He gasps, doubling over, feeling his grace ebbing further and further from his reach.

“Dean was always meant to die,” Chuck says, slowly twisting his wrist. Cas cries out in pain, tucking his head towards his chest, trying and failing to pull away from the pain radiating through every cell. “Even if you hadn’t saved him all those times, he still would have gone out in that stupid blaze of glory he was always glorifying.”

Chuck releases his grip on Cas’s grace. Cas goes limp with a gasp, limbs weak and trembling. Chuck hums.

“Wish I could just kill you now,” he says glumly. “But of all the drafts, killing you and Dean slowly in front of Sam and Jack is just...so much juicier. The pain is so much more intense when you make them watch. Especially if you're first. Dean watching you die just never gets old,” he says, fond smile on his face.

Cas wants to throw up.

“Well, then!” Chuck says with a sigh, eyebrows raised. He slaps his thighs and pushes to his feet, turning towards the entrance. “I’ll be back in, oh, however long it takes for Sam and Jack to show up. Depends on how they decided to travel here. There’s six different drafts just for their transportation. So, you know, don’t go anywhere,” Chuck calls over his shoulder with a wink. He snaps his fingers. Cas screams as his shin shatters. The door slams behind him and the sound reverberates through the warehouse, thunderous in Cas’s ears.

Cas takes a moment to get his ragged breathing under control, fighting down the little amount of grace he has left. He can’t let himself heal. He has to get to Dean first.

Dean is not dying tonight.

Cas grits his teeth against the pain, rolling over onto his stomach. He clenches his fingers in their binds and squeezes tight as he uses his good leg to push himself across the concrete towards Dean, biting back a cry as his leg is jostled. His brow furrows and he pushes on, refusing to let the pain get in his way.

“Dean,” he calls out as he draws near, desperate to hear his voice.

Dean doesn’t answer.

Cas pushes the final few feet and rolls to his side, heaving for air. He tugs at his bonds again, but until he’s able to heal his leg there’s no way he’s breaking out of the enchanted chains tying him back. He lets his eyes slip closed and leans forward, pressing his forehead gingerly against Dean’s bloody brow. He channels any scrap of grace he has left through that connection, hoping with everything he’s got that he reached him in time. Broken bones will heal on their own; he focuses his energy towards anything vital—damaged organs, severe trauma around his skull, and whatever else he can heal, remaining grace and breath leaving him in a rush. Dean’s wheezing has gone away at least, his breath steady and sure, and Cas sags, exhausted.

“Dean,” he whispers, voice weak. He pushes his brow against Dean’s forehead just enough to feel the pressure. He doesn’t have the strength for much else. “Dean. Please.”

Dean stirs slowly, and Cas fights with everything in him to stay awake. He has to make sure—

“Cas?” Dean breathes. Dean is still coming to, but Cas can feel darkness seeping in at the edges of his own consciousness, startling him back into awareness. Not yet, he begs desperately, blinking hard. Please not yet.

“Dean,” Cas answers, his voice so weak he’s not even sure that Dean heard it. Dean shifts against him. Cas concentrates on breathing through the pain, waiting for Dean to realize—

Dean inhales sharply and curses under his breath.

Cas is beginning to drift again, but he can hear Dean scramble into a sitting position, grunting against some pain Cas’s dwindling grace couldn’t reach. But he’s alive, Cas reassures himself in relief as the darkness grips him tighter. He’s still alive.

For how much longer, he can’t guarantee, but just for now is good enough.

Dean grabs his face between his palms then, fingers holding him steady, squeezing gently. Cas's eyelids flutter, exhaustion dragging at his limbs.

“No no no, hey,” Dean says in a rush, words quiet. Cas can hear the desperation in every syllable. “Come on, Cas, stay with me, man.”

Cas grunts softly in response.

“‘M here,” he rasps. Dean sighs, tipping forward to press their foreheads together.

“Okay,” Dean says under his breath, thumb swiping across Cas’s cheek. Cas is almost certain that was more for Dean than himself, reassuring himself that Cas was alive. Cas wants to reach up and grab him, intertwine their fingers, and assure Dean that he’ll be all right. But everything hurts, it’s difficult to breathe, and he’s not going to be awake for much longer; draining his grace like that wiped him out. Survivable, but dreadfully exhausting.

“Okay,” Dean says again, firm, shifting to move Cas, “let’s get you up.”

White hot pain explodes as Dean brushes against his leg, ricocheting into every other pain across his vessel. His back arches as he shouts, eyes clenching tight, teeth clenching.

“Ngh! Don’t—”

“Okay, okay,” Dean says, voice pained as he changes direction, lifting Cas's head into his lap. He settles and slides a hand into Cas's hair, brushing through slow and careful as he scans him for injuries. Cas is sure his leg is a mess, but the other injuries aren’t as obvious. Cas gasps, breaths shuddering in and out of his chest as he sags, the pain dulling back from the sharp flares at being moved.

“Are...are you all right?” Cas says as the pain fades to the background, eyes slipping closed as he rolls his head against Dean’s thigh towards his stomach. Dean barks a laugh, disbelieving, and shifts the hand in his hair to cup his face.

“Am I all right? Cas, you’re a mess.”

“Are you all right,” Cas repeats, straining through the tightness of his chest. He opens his eyes to look Dean over, searching for any sign that he's lying.

"Yeah," Dean says quietly, sobering as he meets his gaze. He swipes a thumb across Cas's cheek, eyes flicking back and forth across Cas's features. "Yeah I'll live, no thanks to you."

Cas exhales, breath rushing out in relief.

"Good," he whispers. "Good."

They sit like that for a moment and just breathe, pipes clanging in the distance. Cas shifts uncomfortably, arms pinned beneath him.

"Gotta get you up, Cas," Dean murmurs, apologetic, and slowly tugs Cas up and into his arms. Cas fights back a cry as he's shifted, Dean apologizing softly as he goes. Once up, Cas's head lolls against Dean's shoulder. He exhales slowly through his teeth, pushing the pain down and away as best he can. Dean presses a gentle kiss to his hair and turns his attention to Cas's wrists. He tugs at the bindings single-handed, his other arm holding Cas to him. He grunts in frustration as the chains only tighten at his efforts, Cas tensing in his arms. He shifts his hand to Cas's back, rubbing his hand up and down Cas's spine soothingly.

"We're gonna get you out of here, okay? We're gonna make it, Cas," Dean promises. "You hearing me?"

"Yes, Dean," Cas breathes. Everything hurts.

"Just, don't—" Dean takes an unsteady breath, fingers tightening on Cas's shoulder. He buries his face in Cas’s hair, eyes squeezed shut in agony. His voice is hoarse. "Don't you leave me again, Cas. Please. I can't...I can't go through that again. One more time and I'm done. I'm just done."

"Dean—"

"You don't have any idea, man," Dean whispers. "You have no idea what you do to me every time you leave. If I have to go through that again, I—"

He cuts off with a shuddering exhale. Cas's chest aches.

"Dean," he whispers, breathless. He presses his crown to Dean's throat. Dean tips his cheek against Cas's hair and sighs deep. Sam had told Cas in not so many words how hard Dean took each of his deaths and disappearances, but to hear it from Dean himself hurts Cas worse than any physical injury.

"I'm not leaving," Cas promises, voice weak from pain. He's fading again, clinging to consciousness with a death grip. He has to make sure Dean understands. "If we can...can defeat Chuck, I'm not leaving, Dean."

Dean's arm tightens around his back.

"I'm not leaving," Cas whispers again. "I-I want…I want nothing more than to stay by your side."

Dean shudders.

"Cas," he breathes. "I—"

A door bangs open somewhere in the warehouse. The two of them tense, breaths frozen. Dean scans the room for his gun, reaching out with his foot to pull it towards them. Once in his grasp, he pulls it to his lips, murmuring something against the metal, and aims it towards the sound, cocked and ready.

"Dean," Cas starts, but Dean shushes him, pulling him closer.

"We're gonna be fine," he says, reassuring. His eyes are steely as he waits, hand steady on the gun. "I'm not letting him take you away from me.

"Never again."

----

tagging some mutuals who may be interested!! @hashtagbravo @demenior @redriotted @leviathancas @starrynightdeancas