arm bracer

so now we’re into the stolen centuries arc I think it’s a fair assumption to say that the unaccounted for deaths Kravitz mentioned in crystal kingdom are from their deaths exploring the different planes
Merle has 57 deaths total, so given everything I know about Merle Highchurch, you cannot convince me that since he knew he was gonna revive on the StarBlaster that whenever he was told “we gotta run quickly to the ship, or we’re gonna die!” that his immediate response wasn’t

Crack Fic! Winteriron Marman AU.

Note: You all have @mistrstank and my terrible spelling to thank for this lunacy of a fic. In case you missed it, I misspelled “mermaid” when I posted part 20 of my mermaid au. Mistrstank was kind enough to point it out and then my imagination came up with this “master piece”.

Enjoy your crack. 

Tony grumbled to himself as he trudged down the sidewalk to school. His windbreaker did little to protect him from the morning chill. The ocean mist was thick with the cloying smell of seaweed. The odor  caused something in Tony’s throat to wobble and tease like he would vomit. He told himself not focus on the smell–it was amazing how well that tactic worked most days like today.

He focused on the anger and indignation roiling in his stomach.

So he’d gotten a little drunk over the weekend, that was no reason for Howard to take away his car and make him walk to school. Everyone his age drank.

You are not everyone,” Tony could hear Howard saying. “You are a Stark. You are above your peers and will act like it instead of a spoiled and stupid brat.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the mental voice.

Fuck Howard. He was a hypocrite anyway.

Tony’s stomach growled.

Tony stopped and stared at his belly.

The growl came again and Tony touched his stomach.

Tony had stormed out of his house without eating breakfast that day. Stopping to eat would make him late to class though.

Tony shrugged, quickly dismissing his reservation. What did he care if he was late to class? He already knew all of the material. Also, Howard had already taken away his car. What else could Howard do to punish him?

Clutching his backpack’s shoulder strap, Tony strolled to the end of the block then turned left toward the bay. He traveled a few more blocks before he reached the beach, and even then he didn’t stop walking. He headed to the rockier areas and climbed the rocks until he found himself a strip of beach tucked away from prying eyes.

Tony flung his backpack onto the sandy shore then jumped off the rock he’d climbed to join his bag in the sand.

Tony plopped onto his butt and dug through his bag until he found the sandwich his butler Jarvis had made for him. When he saw the gooey and orange substance slathered generously between the two slices of bread, Tony’s mouth watered.

Marmalade, Tony’s favorite sweet and spread. He could eat marmalade for weeks and still never get tired of it.

Sweet, precious Jarvis must have decided on marmalade today because he knew Tony would need comfort after Howard’s lecture.

Tony silently thanked Jarvis and began to unwrap the sandwich from its plastic casing.

“Is that what I think it is?” Someone just a few feet away from him asked.

Tony jumped and almost dropped his breakfast. 

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Bruce Wayne x Reader - Take. It. Off.

Knock knock.

“Mr Wayne?”

No reply.

Knock knock.

“Mr Wayne!”

Again, no reply.

There was no other choice. Y/N forced her way into the room, the door slamming as she purposefully strode past the bed and to the window. Pulling back the curtains as loudly as she could, Y/N heard Bruce groan and begin to stir.

With her hands on her hips, she turned to him with a scowl, “Mr Wayne!?”

“What?”  His voice was muffled by the pillow he had thrown over his face in an attempt to block out the intruding sunlight, yet the irritation in his tone was evident.

“It’s 9.30. You have a meeting with Lucius Fox at 10. If you don’t get out of bed now, we’ll be late.”

Bruce let out a huff and lazily waved a hand, as if dismissing her. Y/N frowned, infuriated with his ignorance.

“Lucius will be waiting. You were the one who asked for this meeting to be arranged.”

“I had a busy night.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“Just reschedule it.”

“Mr Wayne, get out of bed. Now” she scolded.

“I just want to sleep.”


He raised his head a little, the pillow falling to the side, “Bats are nocturnal creatures, you know.”

With that, he heftily rolled over on his back to face away from her and pulled the sheets further over himself.

Letting out a frustrated huff, Y/N strode over to the bed, gripped the edges of the duvet and pulled as hard as she could. In one swift movement, the sheets had fallen from the bed to the floor, leaving Bruce exposed.

Shocked by the sudden wave of cold air, he bolted upright and shouted in offence, “Hey! I could have you fired for that!”

Y/N struggled to hold back an amused smile at his overwhelmed state, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh?” Bruce quirked an eyebrow as she smirked, rolling up the discarded sheets.

“You couldn’t live without me.”

He allowed himself to grin a little as he watched her place the pile of sheets at the end of his mattress. He muttered, “That’s true.”

Y/N looked up at him in surprise and met his eyes. Did Bruce Wayne actually just compliment her? She searched his expression for some sort of sign that he was simply teasing her or mocking, but only found an intense, sincere glint in his eye. Slightly bewildered, Y/N looked away from him as she felt a small blush rise to her cheeks. It was then that she noticed he was still partially wearing his batsuit. He had clearly fallen asleep, at goodness knows what hour last night, without bothering to remove his undershirts or arm bracers, “So that’s what you were doing.”

“And what else did you think I was doing last night?” Bruce frowned.

Y/N hesitated before answering, “Well, I just…I assumed you had…company.”

Bruce watched as she hurriedly turned away from him to busy herself with the curtains again, her cheeks a deeper red than they were before.

“Really, Y/N? You think so little of me?” Bruce mocked. Y/N noticed this tone and managed to recover her usual, more stern demeanour.

“So, now that you understand why I didn’t get any sleep last night,” Bruce began, “could you please cancel that meeting?”

Knowing that she had no other option but to cancel, Y/N sighed, ”Fine.”

Bruce nodded with a satisfied smile and reached over to grab the sheets, but Y/N moved quickly to grab them, “If you’re going back to sleep, take it off.”


“The suit, take it off.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“Y/N, I think you’ll find that you take orders from me. Not the other way around.”

“Orders?” Y/N exclaimed, “What am I - your butler? Ah, no disrespect to Alfred of course.”

“Still, I’m your boss. You have to do as I say” he smirked again as she scowled, “Now, if you want the suit off so much, come over here and help me.”

Y/N only stared at him with wide eyes as Bruce rolled out of the bed.


“No, Y/N, like I said; you have to do as I say,” he teased, fighting back a grin. It was so easy.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as he slowly strode over to her. Bruce was looking down at her. Trying to distract herself from the chest that was now directly in front of her, Y/N raised her eyeline to his face. Unfortunately, due to the close proximity of the pair, she began to note the irresistible chocolate shade of his eyes, which were glistening with amusement, as well as the early morning sunlight that was seeping in through the curtains. She also struggled to fight back an overwhelming urge to reach out and run a hand through his hair, which was sticking out in every possible direction as he had literally just got out of bed.

“Help me take them off,” He stretched his arms out in front of him so that they were either side of her, breaking her reverie. Bruce raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Mr Wayne, I don’t think that this is at all appropriate-”

“That’s an order.”

Despite every nerve in her being screaming at her, Y/N found herself reaching out for the buckle that held the first arm bracer in place. Bruce watched her work. Her small hands worked so quietly and efficiently. He almost found himself entranced by the swift movements of her nimble fingers. Every so often he would feel them brush slightly against his arm. The sensation often caused them both to pause. Hold their breath. Close their eyes. Releasing the breath. And continue to work.

He also noticed how her brow creased and nose minutely crinkled as she concentrated on a rather stubborn buckle that was refusing to undo itself. Bruce swallowed. Her tongue brushed gently across her lower lip, resting there as she tried her best to overpower the bracer. Bruce tried to swallow again. His throat was dry.

Y/N did her best to ignore the tense muscles she could feel beneath his undershirts. She was failing. Miserably.

After a little while longer, the bracers were finally removed. Taking a slight step back from him, she hesitantly raised her eyes to meet his gaze. Y/N found herself unable to recognise or interpret the new, unfamiliar glint that had appeared in his eyes. In an attempt to distract from the noise of her heart violently thumping its way through her chest and break the strange silence they were caught in, she took a breath and decided to speak up.

“Is that all, Mr Wayne?” Feeling the fiery blood in her cheeks burn, she took his silence as confirmation and scurried past him for the door. As she reached for the doorknob he called out to her again.


“Yes, Mr Wayne?”

“I’m the boss.”

She could practically hear the smirk.

Excerpt from Chapter 11

Zee turned her back to Tess and began to disrobe.  She unlaced her leather arm bracers, pauldrons, leg greaves and sandals, tossing them all into a heap on the rug.  Her knife belt quickly followed.  After Zee’s leather cuirass had been unlashed, it too joined the pile.  She slid her red tunic up and over her head, revealing a large number of scars crisscrossing her back.

Tessimi froze, staring.

Zee turned to face her.

“What?”  She asked, bringing up her tunic to cover herself again.

“I knew you’d have scars,” Tess said, “I just didn’t realize you’d have so many…”

Zee looked away.

Tess stepped closer to the Bomani and gently tugged the tunic down.  

Tessimi let her amber gaze glide over Zeteria’s body and the scars covering it.  Zee lifted her chin a bit as she let Tess look.  Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Several more silver lines were etched across Zee’s belly and small firm breasts.  Without thinking, Tess reached out and brushed her fingers against what looked to be the newest mark on her belly.  It was still slightly pink.  This was where Uru had stabbed her.

Zee flinched at the contact and jumped back several paces, looking as if she were going to strike.

“I’m sorry,” Tess quickly said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Zee relaxed and flushed.

“No, it’s ok.  I…”

“You’re not used to being touched gently, are you?  This isn’t the first time you’ve started when I’ve gotten too near.”

Zeteria shook her head. “The only people who touch me gently are healers and I’m usually unconscious or in too much pain to even realize they’re being gentle.”  She looked away from Tess. “I’m not really used to being touched at all, actually. People only really get near enough to touch me when I’m fighting or training with them.  Except you…”

Tess nodded but didn’t respond.

Instead she stepped back toward Zee.  She reached her hand out slowly, ensuring that Zeteria could see when it was going to touch her.

Zee allowed the contact and her eyes slid closed when Tess’ hand brushed the flesh of her belly.  Her abdominal muscles reflexively clenched against Tess’ hand, but soon relaxed.

Gooseflesh rose wherever the Sudasi’s fingers traveled and Zee trembled, unused to the sensations.

Tess stepped around behind the Bomani, trailing her fingers across Zee’s body as she walked.  She traced several of the silver lines on her back. Some of them were slightly raised.

“So many…” Tess whispered.  


Cosplay time!
So we decided to go from Overwatch this year to the AX.

4 ½ cosplays to make in less then a month’s time.  

Going to try to make:
Reaper- WIP
Genji- WIP
Zenyatta - WIP
Soldier 76 (just the mask, if time then the gun as well) - WIP

- Family visited the last couple of days, slowed progress down since I had to clean up my mess, but back on track now.

- Top image stuff about to get their plasti dip on, man Reaper’s mask looks so small there.

- Started working on Genji’s armor, only made armor once many years back so everything took awhile to re-learn how to do. Accidentally made two left arm bracers too. (in photo: thigh & leg armor, lower arm armor.  Still need to make upper arm armor.)

- Zenyatta’s ball weapon also has been started, all of them there have the marks carved in them, but they did not show up in the original photo, so I went over some in marker just for you guys.

- Also it is SO hot in the apartment today (also outside 101 F), brother is cooking all kinds of stuff, so the windows are open, but we left some margarine out on the table and it melted!

I will try to remember to take photos and post progress shots every couple of days.

Cutting knife
Foam mats

Contact cement
Exacto knife
Hot glue gun
Heat gun
Pasti Dip
Extra stuff for Soldier 76
Red glasses
PVC cutter (not the model I use, but pretty cheep online)
Foam balls


@firstnamedirector, @melinda-q-may @prplhawk @bewareofthecrazyperson @unaugmentedmonkeyscantfly (optional for tagged)  

Melissa should have known since Coulson’s unpleasant visit that she hadn’t see the last of SHIELD. His distaste of her being a clone was’t forgettable, as she had been temping to bash his head into the wall a few times but he was a stubborn bastard and she eventually forced him out the house, even if she had been the one to invite him in to escape overhearing ears.

What she hadn’t expected from SHIELD was the agents pulling up on her day off at her house again, hallway through packing to get away from SHIELD. They had obliviously acted fast to catch her. Then, she had stormed out the house to ward them off beofre she felt an arm, Coulson’s as she felt his fake arm from the silver rims beofre he had whispered her trigger word into her ear which was an immediate resonance to render her immediately unconscious in his arms.

She had woken up inside a containment model but bound down to a gurney, no double they didn’t trust her in there. On her arms were in like arm bracers, feeling the waves of Energy that was radiating out of it seemed to neutralist her powers, leaving her otherwise helpless in the box.

Melissa had spent a long while tugging on the interesting on her ankles and wrists. She shouted at some of the agents she could see, to let her out but she could seen read the tension and distaste in their eyes as they looked to her. They knew.

Knew she was a clone. And like Coulson, they hated her. If she hand’t been so angry she would have been upset.SHIELD by know also would have been enlightened.

“Let me out of here!” She snared again as she saw another passerby by but was taken a back as the door to the model opened. “Abou-” But she didn’t get to finish as a set of hands suddenly clamped around her throat. Her eyes widening as the pressure increased, cutting off more of her airflow. Her eyes darted to the male agent, pulling more harder on the restraints, panic running trhough her body, blood pumping in her ears at the pressure. Trying to heave for breath but not managing to apart from chocked sounds. Her hands clenched, trying to dislodge the agent. He was going to kill her….

“Creatures like you….you shouldn’t exist in the first place… this will mean nothing in the long run” The Agent hissed down to her but Melissa’s thoughts were hopefully praying for someone to come across this…to save her…

Dots began to tinkle in her vision, finding it harder and harder to focus.. now…


Since you guys liked the outfit so much I thought I would put it on my SDCC Cerise Wolf so you could see what it’s supposed to look like on a finished doll. I really need to get that custom Cerise Wolf doll done, I’ve been picking at her for over a year, I just really hate doing re-roots.

I left the SDCC accessories on rather than putting on the hand painted boots simply because they match her arm bracers better. You get the general idea though.

I think I’m going to order new hair for my custom doll I saw some cookies & cream gradient hair on Etsy that might spice up her re-rooting, I think I went too white on the hair I bought. Maybe during winter break I’ll have time to finally finish her.

I still need a cloak for this outfit though, I’m either going to make a pattern or buy on from Etsy.

I need to share my Lazytown secret. I need to confess. 

The only thing that has ever bothered me, but REALLY bothers me, is that on his one arm sometimes, Sportacus’ plastic arm bracer cuts into the top of his arm a little and makes this extreme looking sliced indent. 

There. There it is. I got it off my chest. 

Several of my cosplays are up for sale! I’m flushing out my closet to make room for future cosplays and to make some money for other projects.  

I am selling the cosplays shown in the picture above and may add to this listing later on (I have some other miscellaneous items). It’s first come first serve.  I will hold a costume for you for 24 hours only, then it is fair game for anyone else.  The 24 hours start once I contact you after seeing your initial message.

Under the cut I have listed what is included and what is not, and any imperfections they may have from being used.  I’ve also provided more pictures of the cosplay for each item listed. Please read the notes I have provided for the cosplays you’re interested in before contacting me. Feel free to message me with any questions you have!!

Shipping and costs vary from cosplay to cosplay.  Shipping will remain constant for US buyers; if you live outside the US, that cost will more than likely change. Payments will be taken through Paypal.  Please look under the cut to see if anything interests you!

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elynight  asked:

Shuuhei/Sakumo, 8

(you are fantastic, omg, yes 💕)

“Who are you? An Uchiha?”

Shuuhei is dizzy and sick to his stomach and still reeling from getting chucked across dimensions by one of Aizen’s creepy stray experiments, but the words make him freeze instantly, eyes widening as he stares up at the tall, white-haired man looming over him, short sword in hand.

His words.

He’s never given the words that curl around his throat much thought—they’re there, he’ll hear them someday, and that’s enough. They’re not as casual as some words, not as strange as others—Renji, for instance, got both lucky and unlucky with his Kurosaki Ichigo, the one who will defeat you! It’s convenient that the name is included, but the other lieutenants mocked him more than once for the rest of it.

Shuuhei’s are just…average. Mistaken identity, he’d thought. It happens, even if he’s been a lieutenant for years now.

He’d never considered soulmate in another dimension who will threaten me with a sword at first sight. Shuuhei’s got a decent imagination, but even his isn’t that good.

Still, there’s only so much threatening looming he can take, even from someone who’s possibly his soulmate. With a roll and a sharp twist, Shuuhei sweeps the white-haired man’s feet out from under him, dumps him on his ass, and springs upright, grabbing for Kazeshini. “I’m Hisagi Shuuhei, a Shinigami lieutenant,” he retorts. “What the hell’s an Uchiha?”

The man blinks up at him, poleaxed. His eyes flicker down towards his right arm, covered with a bracer, and then back up at Shuuhei, narrowing sharply. Well able to read the suspicion in them—his captain has made an art form out of being a suspicious bastard, though Shuuhei can’t exactly blame him—he reaches up to the explosive band circling his throat. Removing it will prime the charge, so he doesn’t try, just tugs it up enough to show the scrawled characters on his skin.

There’s a moment of silence, and then the man laughs. His eyes light up, his face warms, and he grins up at Shuuhei like this is the happiest day of his life. Twisting his bracer out of the way, he returns the favor, showing the words that Shuuhei can see are in his own hand. “Hatake Sakumo, of Konoha,” he says, and takes the hand Shuuhei offers him, rising with ease. His smile softens a little, turns almost wondering, and he reaches up, brushing the backs of his fingers over the scars on Shuuhei’s right cheek.

“You’re a fighter,” he says, both amused and approving. “That’s good. I’d hoped.”

In the depths of his soul, Kazeshini stirs, interested. Shuuhei isn’t the child scared of his own blade anymore—he wouldn’t have been able to achieve bankai if he was—and doesn’t protest when the spirit hums in contemplation.

Before he can reach a verdict, something flickers, like reiatsu but…strange. Shuuhei spins, wary and tense, and Sakumo’s breath catches audibly. “My team,” he says, taking a step forward, and then stops, expression torn.

“In the middle of something else?” Shuuhei asks, weighing what he can sense. It’s a little confusing, but he thinks he can translate it into what he’s used to with a little extra concentration.

“A vital mission for Konoha,” Sakumo admits, mouth tightening. “But my team was captured, and if I don’t rescue them now they’ll be executed.”

Well? Shuuhei asks his sword silently, and Kazeshini cackles with glee, reiatsu surging hard and fast. That’s answer enough, from him.

“Leave them to me,” Shuuhei says firmly. “Is there a way to identify them?”

Immediately, Sakumo pulls the marked headband from his forehead and hands it over. “This symbol,” he explains, fingers brushing over the stylized leaf. A hesitation, and then he meets Shuuhei’s eyes squarely. “Thank you.”

I’m trusting you, he doesn’t say, but he doesn’t have to.

Shuuhei can feel a traitorous blush rising in his cheeks, making his face hot, but he smiles back anyway, wanting to lean in for a kiss but not quite daring. “Good luck,” he answers, silently cursing himself for being so awkwardly formal but unable to help it.

Sakumo chuckles softly, cupping Shuuhei’s cheek again and stepping forward. He kisses Shuuhei, light and quick, just a bare press of warm lips before he’s turning and disappearing, not as fast as a flash-step but close to it.

Shuuhei presses a hand over his flaming face with a groan, drags his mind back to people in danger, and heads in the direction of the knot of not-quite-reiatsu signatures with his fastest shunpo.

(and now i really want to write fic for this gdit)

Whisper (Part 1) - Fog (Reader Vs. The Avengers)
Word Count: 940
A/N: I can’t stop listening to the Witcher 3 soundtrack. It’s so good. This is the theme for this chapter, or possibly the theme for the Recruit in this arc.

In the blink of an eye, scenes changed before you.

You could see and hear and feel, but the mirror fragments were distorted as they rose and sunk along the surfaces of your mind. Time was the same. Everything happened both in the present and the long time past. Things were just so garbled. The harder you thought, the faster the pieces slipped away from you. They made sense, but didn’t.

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Ok, so I’m sorry but I’m on a bit of an etsy binge….

Arm Bracer: