#Some of the combination names I have are:

[kisnin]

Important note for writers! In shotgun shot (anything that fires pellets i.e. the vast majority of shotgun rounds), there is a wadding (sometimes called a shot flower) that is also in the shell. This exits the barrel with the pellets, and often can be found reasonably intact (esp with lower power rounds) It doesnt have the same kinetic energy as the pellets (nor the areodynamics) leading it to hit the ground somewhere around 25-50 meters (using metric here cause thats what i learned this on) from the end of the barrel (though this will vary based on poweder loads, barrel length, and weather conditions).

Also somehtign I've seen misunderstood: the smaller the number in the round size (say 12 ga.), the bigger (and generally more powerful) the round!

The most common shotgun sizes are 12 and 20 gauge, though I personally have seen as small as 30 gauge (my grandpa had one for dealing with farm pests), to a 10 gauge, all the way to a whooping 2-bore (at a certain point of size it becomes "bore" rather than gauge, but its the same thing).

ALSO. If you're bored with just standard shot rounds (buckshot, birdshot, ratshot) here are some interesting rounds you can use for you characters:

Slugs: Slugs replace the standard shot with a single projectile. This tends to increase the range, accuracy, and penetrating power of the round, esp if the shotgun itself is rifled (many arent, for quick context, rifling are grooves cut down the inside of the barrel that catch the round fired and impart spin to it, increasing accuracy and range. Unrifled barrels are termed "smoothbore"). Putting a slug through most anything will render it inoperable, be it human or machine.

Coinshot: Coinshot is less common, but aims to combine the advantages of shotshell and slugs together. As the name suggests, it's often made of coins (though this isn't a requirement, any disk of metal can work as long as it fits) wadded to fit the shell. These are always custom made, and often handloaded (meaning someone is manually filling the cartridge or shell with powder, wad, and shot, or in this case coins) and can really tear things up.

Dragons Breath:

Dragons breath is an incendiary round, and usually combines standard shotshell with some sort of flammable medium, such as magnesium, to generate a burst of flame upon firing. These are often scary to work with, because if theres any issue with the seal of the breach and obturation of the shell, it's possible to get a massive ball of flame coming out the back end of the gun. Getting hit by them is also a one way ticket to pain town.

HEAT:

Standing for High Explosive Anti Tank, HEAT rounds are armor penetrating rounds that contain, atleast in the case of a shotgun, a small amount of explosive that detonates upon entering the target. These can be DEVASTATING to flesh, though there is some debate over their effectiveness against actual vehicles (the explosive could be considered negligible for this purpose)

Bean Bag:

Bean bag rounds are canvas bags filled with shot pellets, and are considered, and i cannot stress this enough, LESS lethal (as opposed to NON-lethal). They are used for riot control, and althought hey often use a reduced load of poweder, can still seriously damage a target upon impact.

Flechette:

Ironically out of all the rounds I've mentioned, these are one of the most scary. Flechette rounds contain dozens, (sometimes close to a hundred, depending on round size) of small needles. As you can imagine, this is DEVASTATING to flesh targets. With larger size powedr loads, they can often over penetrate, turning their target into a bloody pulp.

This is just a small and certainly non exhaustive list of exotic or non standard shotgun rounds available. Sorry this went on, but hopefully this addition will aid some of y'all writer and artist types out there.

a lot of artists dont know how to draw bullets and to be real it bothers me a lot. here's my simple guide on bullets

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #46

Monks?

Imagine dis…

I don’t know if im late to the trend or what, but recently a feed came and it featured Batman’s ridiculous set of skills and when asked he always answered the Tibetan monks.

Like come on, I would understand if the sorcerer supreme taught you how to astral projection and the mental barrier against I don’t know against a species that have evolved telepathy,

But this isn't Marvel.

…..

The Tibetan monks, an enigmatic, unknowable, and allegedly not real, were the whispered origin of some of Batman’s more peculiar skills. Astral projection. Mental shielding. The ability to remain entirely unreadable even to a Martian. When asked how he learned such things, Batman only offered a cryptic, “I trained with the Tibetan monks.” He never elaborated.

That was all it took to spark a minor obsession in his children and allies alike. If the monks could turn him into Batman, surely they were worth finding. And so they searched from combining every high-tech gadget, satellite scan, magical locator, and favor they could think of. Damian even tried to guilt-trip his father using a technique called “puppy dog eyes” courtesy from Dick. Nothing worked. Every lead crumbled like dust. The monks, if they ever existed, were impossible to trace.

The truth? The monks didn’t exist.

There had only ever been one monk.

And he was not a monk at all.

Years before the cowl, before Gotham knew the name Batman, Bruce had limped and escaped out of the League of Assassins with more bruises than bones and a fresh set of enemies. Refusing Ra’s al Ghul and his daughter had not gone over well. He’d wandered half-dead into the snowy wilds of the Himalayas, not sure where he was going, only that it needed to be far, far away.

Then darkness. Cold. Silence. A silhouette. And unconsciousness.

When Bruce woke, he was alive, bandaged, and lying on a bed of hay that smelled suspiciously like goat. A fire crackled nearby. His host was tall, silver-haired almost white, and moved like a shadow in silk robes. He claimed to be a monk. He never gave a name. He also radiated the kind of energy that made even Bruce’s paranoia sit up and go, “Hmm. That’s not normal.”

Bruce watched him from the sidelines. The man sparred with the air itself, performing forms Bruce had never seen before effortless, fluid, almost theatrical in how they ignored gravity. Despite claiming to seek peace, he kicked boulders in half during his morning stretches. Bruce knew what a formidable warrior looked like. This guy wasn’t just good. He was absurdly good.

Eventually, Bruce asked to be trained.

The monk agreed but with a devilish smirk that should have warned him.

It started with traditional exercises. Then came... less traditional ones. One day Bruce was balancing upside down on one finger. The next, he was chasing wild goats through the mountains with a blindfold on. There was a week he still refuses to talk about, involving fermented yak milk and interpretive dance. No explanation was ever given. Just a barked command, followed by a smirk, and Bruce reluctantly obeying because despite everything he was learning.

And the monk? He never moved when Bruce attacked. Not once. Bruce would lunge, strike, ambush, even beg the man to just flinch, and every time, the monk would remain motionless. The result was always the same with Bruce face-down in snow or mud, groaning, while the monk calmly re-wrapped his bandages and offered nothing but that smirk. That infuriating, soul-crushing smirk.

Name?

Bruce had asked and rasped, wheezing after yet another humiliating fall.

The monk merely chuckled and replied.

When you land a hit.

Bruce did not land a hit. Not that week. Not that month. Not ever.

And eventually, it was time to go. Bruce bowed, still never having won, still never knowing the monk’s name and returned to Gotham.

He never forgot the man.

….

What Bruce didn’t know was that his “monk” had a name, Dan.

Or, more accurately, Dan Fenton. Known in his own dimension for blowing up timelines, developing catastrophic anger issues, and eventually retiring from ghostly overlordship after a few centuries of introspection and really intense therapy. He took a page from Ellie and become a traveler, He’d been vacationing across dimensions, mostly avoiding interdimensional politics and his own mess of a reputation as well to avoid his younger self of a king when he stumbled on Bruce half-dead in the snow.

On a whim, maybe redemption, maybe boredom, maybe the sheer novelty of it, maybe his younger self and clone had finally rubbed of him, he saved him. And since he had time to kill, not that he would ever hurt Clockwork, he trained him.

Using ghost powers very subtle about it, just enough to freak Bruce out and maintain the illusion that he was a living, breathing über-warrior with mystical vibes and killer reflexes. The smirking was mostly for fun. The cryptic one-liners? Also fun. No wonder Clocky liked to say weird shit to his younger self.

What Dan didn’t expect was to actually like the guy. Sure, Bruce was intense, broody, and had the emotional range of a brick, but watching him faceplant into snow every morning had been surprisingly somewhat therapeutic. There was something calming about teaching someone who didn’t know who he was, who didn’t flinch at his name, or whisper “Phantom” like it was a curse. It helped Dan heal too, in his own weird way.

Years passed. Dimensions that he traveled and went. Dan forgot about it.

Then he remembered.

He missed his “student.”

He remembered Bruce mumbling something about Gotham in his sleep, something about a cave and a promise and since Dan had nothing better to do, well other than to laugh at his younger self for winning and taking the crown of the Infinite Realms, he decided to pay a visit.

On foot. Across dimensions. Because why not?

….

Meanwhile, in Gotham…

Bruce was panicking.

A letter had arrived. Just a simple, handwritten note. No return address. No explanation. But the handwriting sent a shiver down his spine.

I’ll be visiting soon. Hope you’ve gotten better.

Bruce dropped his coffee.

His children thought it was a threat. Jason offered to shoot whoever it was. Tim tried to trace the paper’s origin with four different forensic tools. Cass read the note and signed something to the others about posture and unresolved duty. Damian called it a threat that someone could rattle his father with one sentence.

But Bruce knew.

He was coming.

His old teacher.

The man who once made him wear a llama costume for a full week to “teach humility.”

He was coming to Gotham.

Bruce wasn’t sure whether to install extra security or book out every gym in the city to train. He hadn’t stopped pacing in two hours. Alfred found him shadowboxing in the Batcave while muttering things like, “I’ve got better reaction time now,” and “Surely… surely I can land one hit.”

Across the city, chaos was brewing, but not because of the letter.

Gotham’s entire vigilante network, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Spoiler, Orphan, Batgirl, even Signal were neck-deep in the investigation of the Joker’s sudden, mysterious death. Dead, now struggle no physical or chemical cause somehow. No evidence.

No struggle.

Just… gone. The only lead was a single blurry silhouette from a rooftop security cam. The figure was massive, hooded, and moved with a kind of fluid, terrifying grace none of them had ever seen before.

Nobody recognized him.

And Bruce hadn’t said a word, too busy to train or join Alfred in cleaning the manor.

While the rest of the Batfam poured over footage, mapped potential escape routes, and debated theories, Batman was notably absent, still in the Cave, still pacing, still trying to steady his breathing every time he glanced at the letter.

Because Bruce knew who it was. And for once in his life, Batman was torn between abject dread… and the tiniest, most humiliating spark of hope.

Maybe this time, I’ll land a hit.

Maybe I’ll finally learn his name.

Maybe I’ll even win.

…Or maybe he’d end up face-first in an alleyway again while his teacher laughed and handed him his own blend of yak milk smoothie.

Either way, Gotham was not ready.

And neither was Bruce.

…...

 PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this, you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me, though.

PPS: I felt like posting a bit early. How was it?

[marookiee]

༚༅༚˳. “Easy Like Sunday Morning” ༚༅༚˳.

summary: caleb comes to pick you up for your weekly gym session, but he gets a little too excited to see you…

cw: MDNI, fem reader, smut, masturbation, pet names, unestablished relationship, vaginal sex, dry humping, kissing, unprotected sex

pairings: sub caleb x mc/reader

music: Novacane - Frank Ocean Father Figure - George Michael Surrender - Kut Klose F.U.C.K. - Victoria Monét (play when mentioned for the best experience)

It's just another Sunday. You and Caleb have plans to go to the gym together, something that has become a weekly occurrence.

Although you couldn’t sleep last night, your head was filled with thoughts about him. You’ve had this crush for months now. Yes, you have always been very close, but recently something about him.. awoke something in you. His biceps have gotten bigger, his face slimmer, his demeanor more intimidating. But only you knew what a softie he truly was. And also, what kind of “best friend” tells you they get off to the work pictures you’ve sent them? Not a normal one. So why would you risk your valued friendship for some silly romance.. that might not even be reciprocated? The answer seemed obvious. You shouldn’t.

So after breaking a sweat last night, you woke up an hour early to take a shower before Caleb picked you up at your apartment. Little did you know, he got up 2 hours before you.

To pretty himself up, and to get you both coffee. he knows you both have packed schedules, so he tries to take maximum advantage of the time you get to spend together. Like friends do right?

As Caleb made his way down to your place, you had just woken up. Face flushed and disheveled, pajamas wrinkled and on the floor. Hair a mess.

As you hopped into the shower, Caleb showed up at your door. He has a key and knows where the spare is, but he always knocks before entering. After about 5 minutes of knocking and waiting, he decided you were probably still asleep. He came in and took his shoes off, dressed in a black compression shirt and black sweatpants, he looked way too good.

He heard the sound of your speaker, Novacane by Frank Ocean playing. Meaning you must’ve been awake. Sitting the coffee down on your kitchen table, he realized you were in the shower.

No biggie.

Oh, but the door is cracked.

None of his business…

A peek won’t hurt!! Right??

Just to make sure his best friend was okay…

Creeping over to the door, Caleb put his body behind the door and his eyes in the thin opening of it. You were washing your hair.

No big deal.

But man…You sure did look good all wet.

With your eyes closed.. hands moving in circles through your pretty brown hair.. making your boobs bounce…

WHAT??

Caleb moved his head behind the door with the rest of his body. No way he’s having this freak-ass thought about his closest friend.

He couldn’t let this continue any longer.

That would be absurd.

What a perv, dude. Stalking his best friend in the shower. Gross. Caleb thought to himself, arms crossed over his chest, still behind the door.

It’s not like you know though. That’s a relief.. what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

Oh, exactly.

So.. maybe it wouldn’t hurt for him to have a look for.. just a little bit longer..

Quietly, Caleb settled his body on his knees, directly in front of the door crack. One hand on the door, and one hand on the frame, he watched as you poured body wash onto a rag, rubbing it together and then onto your body.

Furrowing his brows and letting his mouth hang open just a little, he was dumbfounded. This was exactly how he envisioned your body to be. Plushie breasts and a cute stomach.. complimented by smooth thighs.

I mean.. not that he’s imagined it.

The suds multiplying and slipping down your entire body, combined with the vanilla scent that’s now made its way through the crack of the door, really affected him.

Removing one hand from the door, his hand made its way to his sweatpants, making him realize how painfully hard he was. The contact made him jump a little, his brows furrowed even more, mouth now all the way open.

He can’t go to the gym like this. he can’t let you see him like this. he has no choice but to take control. “this is so wrong”, he whispered as he reached one hand into his sweatpants, pulling his flushed, leaking cock out.

He looks back up to where you're still standing, now attempting to wash your back.

Caleb swipes the tip of his cock, letting out a quiet wince at how sensitive he is right now. As you reached your arm around to get to your back, Caleb focused on your ass.

It always looked so soft.. so plushie.. so.. perfect. The suds dripped down your back, onto your ass, and down your legs.

He started stroking himself to this sight, having to bite his lip to contain his whines. As you started to rub the soap off your body, grabbing onto your breasts and sliding over your thighs and stomach, Caleb began to wonder what it would be like to be under your control. To just be yours.. even for a night. Even if you were just using him for your pleasure. he wouldn’t mind.. as long as he could make you feel good. as long as he was the one making you feel that way.

Picking up the pace of his strokes, it became harder and harder to hold back his moans. Pressing his head against the door frame with one hand holding onto it, he started to let out small whimpers. “y-yeah.. fu-fuck..” Caleb glanced back at your body, trying to get one last look before he finished and attempted to act nonchalant.

You were completely washed off, and completely wet. just enough to send him over the edge. His abs and biceps were sweaty, they tensed as his hands and legs shook, he closed his eyes and threw his head back, letting out a loud, pornographic moan, as cum shot out onto his shirt, which was lifted just slightly.

He immediately came down, mortified at what just happened. he thought to himself, “how could anyone possibly cover this up”.

He was never going to see you again. You were going to hate him if you caught him like this. And when he thought things couldn’t possibly get worse, you opened the door.

Although he felt like the dirtiest filthiest creep, you loved the sight before you. Caleb was on his knees, his abs and biceps swole against his tight shirt, his pretty red cock on display, resting on his abdomen. cum all on his shirt, his eyes were big and puppy-like, and his cheeks were getting redder by the second.

You were in a black silk robe, hair wet and clean, looking down at him. and before he knew it, he was hard again.

But to his surprise, you smiled at him.

“H-hey. I’m so sorry.. please let me explain..”, He managed to stutter out, still obviously shaken up.

“No need.” You said, settling down on your knees in front of him, looking him in the eyes.

“W-what? You’re not mad? You’re not gonna punch me in the face and kick me out?���

“No. of course not. As long as you can answer me this.”

“Oh um..okay...”

“Have you done this before?”

“…Huh?” Caleb’s eyes grew bigger, scared to say the wrong answer. His ears practically steaming because of the eye contact.

“Have you done this before. to the thought of me.” Your voice wasn’t questioning of him, it was almost.. demanding.

Caleb’s brain was practically mush right now, functioning with barely enough energy to muster up a lie.

“Yes.” He said almost immediately, making you stand up to look down on him again.

“Have you ever.. wondered what the real thing felt like?” you said, crossing your arms as a quiet blush crept across your face.

“Of course I have.” Caleb’s cock twitched at your words as his head hung, sending you even more obvious signals.

“Do you want to?” His head whipped up to look at you once again.

“You want to? With me? ”

“Yes.” You sighed out, secretly just as nervous as him.

“You like me? Like that?”

“I do.”

“I never noticed.”

“Yeah me either. I-… I think about it all the time.”

“I-I do too.” Caleb looked back down, then up again, giving you the most pathetic doe eyes, making your knees buckle.

Leaning back down, your hand cupped his cheek. He was burning hot. You smiled at his flustered state, running a hand through his soft hair. He nuzzled his face in your other hand, alarmed at how natural it felt to be like this with you. It was weird.. even though he hates showing people how vulnerable he could be, he liked it with you. It came naturally.

“Are you sure you want to?” You asked again, wanting to make sure he meant what he said.

“I do I do. Please. T-the gym can wait..” You had completely forgotten about the gym at this point, so focused on the tension that nothing else seemed to matter. Your hand sliding down his neck, you thought of what was soon to come.

“C'mon then pretty,” you said to him as you grabbed his hand, leading him to your dim bedroom.

He followed you like a lost puppy, the tip of his cock peeking out of his sweatpants just slightly. This felt like a dream.

He had been in your room before, but not like this. All the windows were closed, with an orange lamp illuminating the space. A candle lit on your nightstand filled the room and made it smell sweet. It all seemed too good to be true.

Your bed was messy, pillows in every direction and your comforter wrinkled. At the side of the bed, you let go of his hand and turned around to meet him. Although he was significantly taller and bigger than you, that didn’t stop his submissive nature.

He looked down at you with big eyes, waiting for you to guide him through what you wanted.

Walking up to him slowly, you ran both your hands through his hair, sitting both of them on his neck.

He hesitantly put his hands on your waist, the silk cooling his hot palms. You were so close. You could feel the heat coming off his body, and the song suddenly changed. Father figure by George Michael played, making the tension 10x thicker.

“C-can I kiss you?” Caleb asked lowly, his breath hitching. You slowly nodded, analyzing his expressions like any could be his last.

His warm hands slid up your waist to your face, cupping it ever so gently.

Your lips finally met, and it was like heaven on earth. Caleb was so warm, and your bodies were pressed so tightly against each other, you could smell his cologne.

Caleb always smelled husky and manly, a scent that always had you trying to smell him again and again. It invoked something in you, as you dragged your hands from his shoulders over his pecs, to finally wrap your arms around his waist.

He twitched at the sudden sensation, and he swiped his tongue against your lips, quietly asking you for access. You immediately parted your lips slowly opening your eyes, to see he was already staring back at you with a low, pleading look.

He made you weak. His tongue met yours, as he dragged one hand up to your your cheeks, fingers pressing in on them for easier access.

He was still staring back at you, making you break a sweat.

He tasted like coffee and dark chocolate, with a hint of cigarettes. You always thought he was so sexy when he smoked.

Caleb was a sloppy kisser, saliva now making its way down both of your chins. He licked a sudden stripe on your neck, sucking the spot a few times before he cupped your ass, picking you up and wrapping your legs around him with ease.

With a hand at your back to support you, he turned around and sat down on your bed, you now straddling him. You could feel how hard he was on your bare pussy, your wetness making a stain on his sweatpants.

He was still holding onto your ass, his hand at your back pushing you forward to kiss him once again. Coming to your ear, he whispered, “Can I take this off?” as his hands rubbed the silk robe tied around you.

You immediately nodded as he met your face, taking his hands and slipping the robe past your shoulders to reveal your breasts. He stared at them for a while, before leaning down and taking one in his mouth, massaging the other in his hand. The sudden warmth and slight graze of his teeth made you let out a choked moan, causing him to look up at you, silently teasing you.

Although Caleb wasn’t the most experienced, he knew what you wanted.

How could he not? You always told him about your past relationships and experiences.. “he was just too dominant, he only cared about his pleasure, I just wanted more foreplay..” he remembered. Always making mental note of what you liked and disliked, he’s been preparing for this moment. Although, he never truly thought this day would come.

You began to move your hips against him, snapping him back to reality as he let out a whine, not stopping him from sucking and biting. You were both a moaning mess, both craving more friction.

Caleb let go of you with a sudden pop, and slid your robe off and to the floor. You took the chance to lift the hem of his cum-stained shirt, revealing his beautiful upper body. You took his face in your hands, kissing him once more, as he analyzed your body.

He sighed out. You’re perfect. You had the body of a Greek statue, not to mention the face of a goddess. His dream girl.

Waking him out of his trance, you got up and got on your knees, grabbing the hem of his sweatpants and tugging them down. Just the sight of you below him made him twitch.

You finally pulled his boxers off, revealing the thing that got all this started. Caleb's arms holding himself up as he sat there, manspreading, ready for you to do something to him. Anything.

His cock was laying on his stomach, dripping pre-cum. You came closer, putting your hands on his knees, you licked a bold strip from the base of his cock to his tip, sucking it a little. The song switched again, Surrender by Kut Klose. Which was exactly what he wanted to do for you.

He sat there in awe, mouth wide open and forehead sweaty, as you stood up to face him.

“Lay back baby,” you said to him in a hushed, sultry tone. He did as you said, laying back on your pillows. You straddled him, your bare pussy just barely grazing him, making him wince.

“Are you that sensitive honey?”

“Yeah I- I don’t do this a lot..” He responded, looking at you with dilated pupils.

“That’s okay. I’ll make you feel good Caleb.”

His mouth filled with drool at your words, as you began to kiss up and down his neck and chest, his shoulders, and his face. Finally, to meet him in a sloppy kiss, your teeth crashing together and your tongues practically fighting.

Your hands fell down his chest and met with the tip of his cock. You swiped it a few times, making him moan in your mouth, you had your hand on the nape of his neck, pushing him into the kiss.

You lined him up with your entrance and finally sunk onto him.

Painfully slow.

The most pathetic whimpers came out of Caleb, his lips now red and swollen.

He sat back to look at you, he’s never seen someone so beautiful. Your hair was still wet and slightly dripping, your perfect skin glowing, your lips wet and your nipples red and hard from him sucking on them. He couldn’t take it anymore. he yearned for you. To feel you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist moving you up and down on him.

“S-shit.. mmh..” He whined as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, he’d never felt this good before. Your chests were flush against each other, both of you lost in pleasure.

Your mouth hung open, you having no control of what came out of your mouth. Although, you weren’t nearly as noisy as him. He was so damn whiny, it was almost pitiful.

You loved it.

He moved his hands from your waist to rub your thighs, watching them moving with every thrust. he took a minute to stare at them, only to look back up and cover your neck and collarbone in kisses.

Your head flopped over to the side, closing your eyes tight.

It was so different with Caleb than with other guys. Not only did he care about how you felt and your experience, but he was also so big. His large biceps made it easy to lift you up and down on him, his strong thighs sat you forward, making you the closest to each other you could possibly be, and his big cock stretched you out just right, hitting all your weak spots.

He looked up at you for a minute, making sure you held eye contact with him. “Am I doing good? Tell me I'm doing good.” You were so close. And he was about to send you over the edge.

F.U.C.K. by Victoria Monet playing, the orange lights hitting his pretty face so perfectly, this was like a dream.

“So good baby. You make me feel so good.”

With these words alone you could both feel what was to come, quickening your pace just a little. Caleb took notice and snuck his thumb down to your clit, rubbing small circles. He watched your face as you threw your head back, a choked moan leaving your lips.

You suddenly felt him shoot up into you, his whimpers loud and broken. He kissed all over your face, as his hot load began to spill out of you.

He grabbed your waist, moving you up and down once again, stuffing it back into you. You continued to hold onto his shoulders, too tired to protest.

He pulled out of you, laid back, and scooted you even closer to him. One arm wrapped around your shoulder, the other holding onto your waist. your cheeks were right against each other, both of your faces covered in sweat.

“Was that good for you?” Caleb asked, out of breath.

“Too good. But.. can I tell you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

“ You’re so easy. “

© marookiee ‘25. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[littlelovelunette]

Hey mum ^7^ think I could trouble you for some pit fighter!Vi bouncing back after Cait with a bartender!reader?

-🍺

Drinks On Me

Pitfighter!Vi x Bartender!Reader

SUMMARY: Vi goes deep into the drunk dive after breaking up with Caitlyn and now she fights and drinks all day. You're a hotshot bartender in the Undercity, who many have tried to charm yet failed. Seeing Vi the way she was stirs pity in your heart, but then she tries to use you as her rebound girlfriend. You see right through it, and call her out on it. For a few days, she doesn't leave the slumps of her apartment and doesn't even try to urge a fight here and there as she reflects on everything she'd done. Does she apologise? Or is her ego too high for that?

Word Count: 2.2k . . .

Angsty, heavy drinking, violence, clothed sex, fingering, sucking/licking said fingers, pitfighter!dom!Vi, sex in a public bathroom.

The clinking of glasses and the sound of pouring drinks filled your senses as you clocked in for your shift. It was the usual— making drinks for drunken bastards who thought it was super cool to flirt with the hotshot bartender.

“Hey,” Kyle, the bartender who worked the same nights you did greeted you and stood beside you.

“Hiya, Kyle,” you looked at him, his face set in a grin, “What's up?” You asked curiosity as you wiped down the counter with a rag.

“Nothin’, I just heard there's apparently some pitfighter coming today. Won quite a few rounds herself.” You raised a brow.

“Herself? It's a girl?” you put the rag away.

“What? Are you saying girls don't know how to fight?” Kyle asked in a joking tone, you knew he was messing around.

You snorted. “I've seen all sorts of fighters in Zaun, just caught a little off-guard though. You gotta say, even though there are so many girls in Zaun who know they're way around a gun or a fist, the number is still scarce.”

Kyle nodded with a laugh, “Yeah, gotta agree to that.”

“When's she coming?” You asked, glancing at the clock on the wall as you prepared a drink for that one rich customer who came in and always ordered the same thing, yet tipped you well.

The bar door slammed open, a woman with black dyed hair walked in. She was hot, her chest bound tightly which looked unhealthy even and a black jacket. Her beautiful blue eyes locked with yours, and you knew she was drunk already. She slumped down in front of you at the bar. Your eyes caught onto her facial tattoo, it spelled ‘Vi’.

You set the drink down in front of the rich guy, barely paying him any mind as you turned your full attention to the newcomer. She reeked of alcohol and blood, a combination you weren’t unfamiliar with in Zaun, but still enough to make you raise an eyebrow.

“Rough night?” you asked casually, grabbing a clean glass and setting it in front of her.

Vi smirked lazily, slumping forward onto the bar, resting her chin in her hand. "You could say that," she slurred slightly, her fingers tapping against the wood. “Whatcha’ got that's strong?”

Kyle gave you a look like ‘good luck with this one’ before busying himself at the other end of the bar. You wiped your hands on a towel and leaned forward a little, studying her. There were bruises forming along her knuckles— fresh. She hadn't even bothered to tape them properly.

“You look like you need something that'll either kill you or save you,” you said with a teasing grin.

Vi barked a laugh, tossing a few crumpled bills onto the bar. “Whatever kills me faster.”

You liked her already. Pouring a double shot of the strongest rotgut the bar had, you slid it across to her.

“This might burn a hole through your stomach, so... cheers.”

She took it without hesitation, knocking it back in one go, slamming the glass down hard enough to rattle nearby bottles. Her eyes watered a bit, but she gave you a wicked grin that sent a shiver up your spine.

“You got a name, bartender?” she asked, voice rough.

You leaned on your elbows, smirking right back at her. “Depends. You gonna cause trouble if I give it to you?”

Vi chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated in her chest. “Nah. Trouble already found me tonight.”

Before you could answer, some drunken idiot down the bar shouted something obscene aimed at you. Typical. You barely flinched, already used to brushing it off. Vi, on the other hand, twisted around slowly on her stool, her blue eyes narrowing dangerously at the guy. She cracked her knuckles, the sound sharp in the heavy air.

“No need,” you said, grabbing Vi’s wrist out of instinct, “It's okay.”

“But he—”

“It’s okay,” you repeated more firmly than before.

Vi rolled her eyes but remained seated, rolling her shoulders and leaning closer to the bar, the stool creaking a little under her weight. The bruises on her knuckles were so raw and split, you couldn't help feeling your stomach churn at the sight.

“Ugh, let me just—” you examined her hand, grabbing the first aid kit under the bar and taking some antiseptic out to disinfect the bruises. “Kyle, can you watch my tables?”

“Sure thing.”

Your hands worked gently against Vi’s calloused fingers, cleaning up the split knuckles, “Let me know if it stings too hard,” you said in a soft tone, dabbing the cotton soaked with antiseptic onto her knuckles. Vi wanted to wince but she didn't, her eyes fixed on the way your pretty face twisted in concentration— bottom lip tucked under your teeth and everything.

“I'm Vi,” she said, tilting her head, “And thanks.” you glanced up at her and gave her your name, pressing a little on the bruise making her wince.

“Sorry…” you reached down and got some bandages for her, patching her fist up. “Give it some actual time to heal, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Vi pulled her wrist back, clinking the empty glass on the bar surface, “Refill, princess.”

“I'm on a clock, Vi!” You giggled when she nipped onto your neck, leaving dark hickeys and bite marks all over the skin of your neck, your collarbones adorned with the marks of ownership. Her hands clutched your waist tightly, fingers digging into the skin needily.

“Fuck, you're so pretty,” Vi’s lips found yours, pressing against them roughly as her teeth grazed your bottom lip. She bit down there making it swell a little but it only aroused you more.

You moaned throatily when Vi’s fingers pressed against your crotch through your clothes, “Vi, please.”

“Please what, hmm?” Vi teased you, fingers starting to rub against your clothed crotch, her eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Please, I need your fingers.” you rutted against her digits, yearning to feel them stretching you out.

Vi chuckled darkly against your mouth, the vibrations of her laugh sending another wave of heat pooling in your core.

“Needy little thing, aren’t ya’?” she murmured, voice husky with amusement and want. Without warning, her hand slipped past the waistband of your pants, fingers brushing teasingly against your slick folds. She groaned loudly when she felt how wet you already were for her.

“Shit, you're soaked,” she growled, her thumb circling your clit in slow, torturous strokes while two of her fingers toyed at your entrance.

Your head dropped forward, forehead resting against hers as you tried to keep yourself steady, trying not to completely fall apart right there behind the bar.

“Vi,” you whimpered brokenly, your hips rolling against her hand. “Please, don't tease.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” Vi muttered, and without any more warning, she pushed two fingers deep inside you.

You gasped, body jerking slightly at the sudden stretch, your walls fluttering desperately around her rough digits. She didn't give you time to adjust either, she immediately set a hard, unrelenting pace, her palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. Your hands flew to her shoulders, fingers digging into the leather of her jacket, desperate for something to hold onto as she wrecked you with quick, brutal strokes.

“You feel so fuckin' good,” Vi rasped against your ear, pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, dragging her teeth across the already bruised flesh she'd marked earlier. “You’re mine tonight, got it? Nobody else touches you but me.”

You couldn't even form words at this point, only desperate, broken moans and whimpers leaving your lips as she drove you closer and closer to the edge. The loud chatter and clinking of the bar faded into a blur. It was just you and her— the pounding of your heartbeat and the obscene, wet sounds of Vi's fingers plunging into you the only things that existed. Your thighs trembled violently, your nails scraping down her back as you felt yourself spiraling, your release coiling tighter in your gut.

“Vi— I'm gonna—”

“Go on, princess,” she urged, her thumb pressing harder against your clit, her voice a low, rough promise. “Cum for me. Make it messy.”

With a desperate cry muffled against her shoulder, you shattered, your body tensing and then convulsing around her fingers. Vi cursed under her breath, slowing her movements only slightly, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm until you slumped against her, spent and shaking. She finally pulled her fingers out slowly, making you whimper at the sensitivity, and brought them to her lips, sucking your taste off them with a satisfied hum.

You returned to work and Vi returned to her apartment, drunk. It was always like this and went on for Janna-knows-how-long. You didn't put a label on the both of you because you saw her as a fling, mainly because you were scared of getting attached to her. You still had no idea what had gone down with her and Caitlyn. All you knew was that they were together until they weren't anymore. You wished there was a way you'd know why they didn't workout, was there any underlying factor with Vi as a person or was it because oil and water don't mix?

“Maybe I'm just her rebound fling,” you snorted in laughter, pouring whiskey in a glass.

“Nah, I doubt that,” Kyle was expertly pouring beer for the gambling folks, “She don't seem like the type to chase sex.”

“Don't seem?” You laughed.

“Yeah… her thing with Caitlyn was pr-etty solid.” Kyla said dragging the ‘pretty’, “She really loved that enforcer. Even if it sorta ruined her rep ‘round the Undercity.”

“Tell me ‘bout it…” you sat down at the bar with a groan, “I don't know. I'm just terrified of being played, I guess, so I'm turning her down before she can turn me down.”

“Aren't you being a bit too wary?”

“Aren't you been a bit too dense?”

“Touché.”

The bar door opened and Vi walked in, hair dripping with sweat and water from when she probably aggressively washed her face.

“Hey,” she slipped onto the stool, ordering her usual which your hands were already making.

“Hey.” You mumbled back, giving her her drink. “Vi, we have to talk…” you said, fumbling with the hem of your sleeves. “I didn't know what else was to bring this up, but I just want you to know this—” you gestured between the both of you, “—thing between us is completely, ummm, platonic.”

“Platonic?” Vi looked at you, blue eyes wide as if that's the last thing she expected to hear.

“I mean… ummm.” You looked at your hands. “All we have is sex and it really just feels like you're using my body to get over Caitlyn's.”

“Is that—” Vi took a deep breath.

“I can't be your rebound girlfriend, I'm sorry.” your lips pressed into a thin line and you stared at the bar counter. Vi got off her stool, tossing a few coins for the drink she'd ordered but left untouched. She didn't even spare you one last look before she walked out the bar door and didn't return. You looked at the change on the bar and sighed. She didn't even deny you were her rebound girl...

Kyle, who'd been watching the whole scene, gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “It'll be okay…”

Of course, his words were aimed at comfort and you knew that. It wouldn't be okay. Not unless Vi acknowledged the faults she'd make along the way. She couldn't keep letting Caitlyn’s ex-relationship with her defne the way she viewed… everything.

For the next few days, your eyes always lingered on the door of the bar, pouring alcohol for others but your mind was set on that one idiot pitfighter. Violet. Vi, on the other hand, spent her days rotting away in her apartment and day-drinking. She'd been wondering, “Were my walls up too high again? Or am I just being too protective of my heart?” The mirror that was now cracked and blood dripped from her knuckles, she knew she needed to make change. Soon. Before she lost you to someone else.

One night you saw Kyle coming in with a bright smile, a smile that he always wore whenever something was up.

“What did you do this time?” You asked.

“Why's it you always assume the worst?” Kyle laughed and put on his apron.

“I'm serious.” You crossed your arms, “Tell me!”

Kyle laughed, shaking his head and then gestured to the bar door. Your eyes averted from his and locked on the door. There she was. Vi, but she looked different. No more black hair dye. There was an unusual soft look in her eyes. Her soft blue eyes were filled with someone akin to affection. She had on a red jacket and not black this time. She walked to the bar.

“Words don't cut it,” she was holding a bouquet full of daisies and roses. “But I'm sorry.”

“Did you steal that from someone's garden?” You grinned a little.

“I'm sorry,” Vi pressed on making you laugh.

“So you did steal ‘em!” you laughed and put the rag down that you were cleaning the counter with, “I'll forgive you… under one condition.”

“What's this condition?” Vi asked, the corner of her lip tilting up slightly.

“Kiss me.”

Vi's hand latched onto the collar of your shirt, bringing you over the bar as she kissed you. This kiss, for once wasn't aggressive and rushed between your work breaks. This was real and passionate. It would take time, but you knew she was forgiven for now.

[forsaken-headcanons]

Hello, after rotating this child in my brain I have decided to revise/update one of my headcanons

(CW for mentions of child abandonment + attempted murder, and also lab experiment + doctor shenanigans, medical malpractice maybe ??? c00lkidd has been through the horrors sorry about that)

c00lkidd was born from an experiment, specifically how robloxian dna and drakobloxxer dna could mix into a singular organism . basically, the scientists mixed some cells together and put the homunculus in an egg to see what would come out

the experiment was partially successful at first ! c00lkidd was alive and well, just horrible skin due to the dna fusion not knowing how to combine the robloxian skin and drakobloxxer scales

the scientists tried to solve the skin problem with treatments and surgical procedures, but nothing worked. so they then deemed the experiment as a whole unsuccessful. Because this weird mix between species didn’t really count as any animal in the humane treatment system thing to them, they just packed it up in a box and sent it anonymously to the only person they suspected would deal with it: a deadly exploiter whom had no mercy towards anyone. Little did they know,

extra stuff:

Bluudud is a sea monster ! particularly a sorta mix between a shark and a seal . Super hard to explain the specifics without drawing it out though, so I’ll probably send a doodle of it one day

I have known prettyprincess for only like a week I still don’t know how to spell her name help!!!!!! she’s a bird to me, some sort of corvid specifically, loves shiny things like tiaras and gems

-c00l anon

This is the second time I've read a hc about 007n7 getting c00lkidd because others sent the kid to him thinking he would 'take care of it'. And I think should start killing those senders.

I'm in love with sea monster Bluudud. He's water and sea themed as a parallel to c00lkidd having fire abilities!! And bird pr3ttypriincess,,, She'd totally have a little horde of anything shiny or pretty she finds

[crimsoncold]

reblogging with all the prev tags because they sum up all the issues I have with fans who use this argument to criticize or "disprove" the idea of jonsa.

Because somehow these people think a deeply romantic character ...

who thinks she has lost essentially her entire family

who has dreamt about recreating her beloved late family anew through her own future children as well as through potentially building a loving relationship with some future husband

whose storyline has so often centred around both her marriage prospects and her claim to winterfell/the north)

will be proven right about only the most pessimistic and miserable thoughts she has about her future (i.e. that it will be one devoid of any true affection or love and where anyone interested in marrying her would only be trying to use her to get access to her claim/home)

and that either her ending up alone (??!?!?) or married to any one of her deeply unimpressive "suitors" or to some random unestablished character introduced as a marriage prospects so late in the series...

is something that would somehow make for a happier and more realistic ending than two established important characters (who would absolutely be reasonable marriage prospects given that cousin marriage is an acceptable and known practice in westeros) with similar values, dreams, and ties to winterfell marrying one another out of a sense of true affection, loyalty, or even love in a move that gives both Jon and Sansa exactly the type of future they desperately wanted but believed would never be possible for them.

As if (realistically speaking) in the context of asoiaf it would ever make sense for a girl of sansa's status

... eldest daughter of one of the great houses of westeros (House Stark the principal noble house of the north),

presumed heir of said house and possibly future heir in reality depending on Bran and Rickon's fates,

someone whose people would most rightfully consider a princess (and likely eventually will name queen) given that her late brother was crowned and acknowledged as King by a combination of his Father's and Mother's people before he died without issue,

whose uncle Edmure is the head of another great house (House Tully, the principal one of the riverlands),

and who is further tied through blood to the head of third Great Houses (House Arryn the principal noble house of the Vale) i.e. her cousin Robert Arryn

...to somehow never remarry and intentionally remain childless for the rest of her life.

All of which is made even more unrealistic given the very precarious state of her family's/house's future (i.e. her parents are deceased, paternal uncle a member of a celibate order forbidding marriage/fathering children who is also currently missing beyond the wall, elder brother deceased without heirs; middle brother -presumed by most people to be dead- possibly unable to have children after being paralyzed from a fall; youngest brother- also presumed dead- and potentially going to end up dead by the end the of series, and the only other possible way of continuing the stark line being an adventurous younger sister ...who has shown comparatively no interest in marriage or living a life of a typical noble lady)

(And as if such an ending would really qualify as a happy one for Sansa... who had so longed for family in the form of her own children and marriage... only to be proven right about her greatest fear that any marriage offer she recieves would be a loveless one and whose "comfort" and "happy" ending would apparently come not from attaining an unexpected but actual loving relationship and marraige but rather from her ending up alone and not ever having to remarrying at all?)

And if you do recognize that most likely Sansa (whether she ends up a ruling Lady or a Queen in her own right or a high ranking lady whose younger brother has the role of ruling Lord or King) will be expected to marry and try for children/heirs, and that despite her fears over the intentions of anyone willing to marry/court her Sansa herself actually does truly desire both children and a marriage that is either based in or developes into a loving one... how on earth is a Sansa x Jon romantic relationship and eventual marriage the one you would deem an unhappy ending for these characters (given how either overtly awful/unpleasant, unlikely/insignificant, or undeniably dead at the end of the series all their other potential/theorized romantic partners will be)

“A marriage...” Her throat tightened. She did not want to wed again, not now, perhaps not ever. — Alayne, AFFC.

And you guys think this girl will be happy if she has to marry her half-brother.

Yeah, the girl who dreams of love and marriage is hesitant about another political match to an undesired partner and disillusioned with her hopes for happiness. At the midway point of the novel series. Which has so far centered heavily around the idea od her marriage partners, her fertility, the potential inheritance of her children, her romantic ideals and attachments. One of which is a tragic romance between siblings. Snowflakes feel like "lovers kisses" while she rebuilds the home she longs for from Snow.

But yeah, totally, marriage and romance will definitely never play a role again in her plot and it could never involve someone who physically strongly resembles her two past crushes, and it could never ironically involve a parallel to the incest romance she has invoked for herself to emulate when she was still betrothed to a bastard prince.

Totally.

[slippinmickeys]

im literally reading thru your entire ao3 catalog and youre going to keep me fed for a good 6 months THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR WORK.

i have no idea if ure taking prompts (?) if not absolutely just ignore this but mulder telling scully "you're flirty today" JUST LIKE THAT ONE BLOOPER. i'm rereading cab ride kiss and i just love giggly scully so much i want to personally punish chris carter for everything he did to my girl. ANYWAYY HAVE A GOOD DAY! ❤️

The fluorescent hum of the morgue lights assaults Mulder, a low, static buzz that needles at the edges of thought. Overhead, an ancient vent sighs, exhaling a thin thread of cold air that smells faintly of antiseptic—and something older, something rotten, steeped deep beneath the soap.

Scully stands with her back to him, bare arms gleaming under the focused light as she saws through a sternum with a Stryker saw. Her hair is bound at the nape of her neck, a few tendrils breaking free to cling to the fine sheen of sweat at her temple. There's a bloody spatter across the chest of her scrubs that she either hasn’t noticed or doesn't care enough to wipe away. Mulder bets on the latter.

The corpse on the table is ordinary by their standards: male, mid-forties, with the bloated, flushed look of a man who drank himself to sleep and forgot to wake up. No symbols carved into the skin, no ritualistic binding, no folkloric footprints to note in the margins of the report.

Just dead. Just another name to record in a file. 

She trades the saw for the bone cutting forceps.

"You’re quiet," Mulder says, careful not to jostle the brittle concentration stretched thin between the shriek of the saw and the slick red ruin of the body. He leans back against a counter, crossing his arms. Watches her.

Scully grunts, pries apart the ribcage with a sound like velcro being torn from cheap carpet. "Focused," she corrects, her voice steady. "Not quiet."

"You’re focused and quiet. Deadly combination," he says, half-smiling.

Scully pauses, glances over her shoulder at him with one brow arched, a look sharp enough to filet a lesser man. But there’s a tilt to her mouth that undercuts it, something almost—God help him—teasing.

"You just don't like not being the center of attention," she says.

The grin that pulls across Mulder’s face feels inevitable. "You're flirty today," he says.

There’s a flicker—the split-second beat where she could deny it, could brush it off with some sharp, clean dismissal. But instead Scully just shakes her head, small and private, and turns back to her work.

The steel glints as she works the shears between the ribs. "Must be the fumes," she murmurs.

Mulder pushes off the counter, closing the distance between them in lazy strides. He’s aware of the way she stiffens slightly, how her fingers tighten on the cutter. Like she’s weighing the cost of pretending she doesn’t notice him standing close enough to feel the heat coming off her skin.

He doesn’t touch her. Not yet.

"Is it dangerous?" he asks, “These fumes?” He keeps his tone light, knowing better than to prod too vigorously at the live wires that lead into the fuse box of Scully’s moods. 

"Not if you take precautions," she mutters, snipping through cartilage like she's pruning a rose bush; methodical and ruthless. Her eyes never leave the body.

Mulder watches her, the quick economical movements, her efficiency honed sharper than any scalpel in the room. He thinks, not for the first time, about the cruelty of a universe that can fit so much life inside something as vulnerable as human skin.

"I don’t mind it," he says after a moment, quietly. "You flirting."

This time she does look at him, straight on, blue eyes cool and unblinking above the surgical mask. A few beats pass, the moment stretching like candy shop taffy.

"Good to know," she finally says. Then turns back to the ruin of the man on the table and cracks the breastbone with a wet pop.

Mulder steps back, granting her the space she never asked for but always seems to need. He finds himself smiling anyway, small and secret.

Outside, the day is already dying, the sun bleeding into the cracked cityscape, casting long shadows, the sky the color of rust. Another night coming. Another case to chase.

He hopes—absurdly, achingly—that she keeps flirting.

Even if it's only with disaster.

[dingodad]

Start Over | Go Back

@missfroggish - GLUE TRAP DREAMCATCHER && TRIANGULATORTOP || TWIN PEAKS POSTER makes the WEBDRESS. Completely internet-enabled and made of 100% synthetic materials. Now you too can be traumatised and wrapped in plastic!

@vriskadyke - DREAMCATCHER && BLACK LODGE: THE GAME OF DOMINATION create the SWEET SPIRIT CATCHER TABLETOP BASKETBALL GAME.

@ackedack - WORLD BEATER GAME || GLUE STICK combine to make the BALMYKNOCKER. For "sticking it" to the landed gentry of the world, I guess?

@lizardanya - WORLD BEATER GAME && TRIANGLE make the GEODESIPHONE. Back in the mid-century a guy named BACHMINSTER-FULLER had everyone convinced that this was the absolute future of all percussion instruments.

@n4ut1lus - WORLD BEATER GAME && X-MEN OMNIBUS creates the WORLD UNITER GAME (below right). A highly cerebral game of skill based around the aim of uniting the people of the world, hand in psychic hand.

@odddaysgeorge - CEREBRICK && WORLD DOMINATION: LICENSED ALTERNIAN EDITION combine to make the MUTANT WARFARE GAMEBOOK (above right). This actually used to be a completely normal digital warfare gamebook - containing not only all the rules but the necessary resources for a riveting afternoon of strategy with your friends - until it was changed by the mutagenic rays of a dangerous alien sun. I'm not sure I'd recommend putting your fingers in there now.

@zignifier - ELECTRONIC TRIANGLE || CEREBRICK && WEAPON DELTA creates the WEAPON ALPHABET. Wirelessly connected to the vast database of mutant powers contained within your Cerebrackpack, these finely-tuned vibrating metal rods can simulate a vast array of unique special attacks in combat.

@sylph-o-life - WEAPON DELTA || TRITOP makes the BUBTOP. Compact, pointy, Canadian-made -- this ain't your grandpappy's Blackberry.

@bottleoscrumpy - WEAPON DELTA && WORLD BEATER GAME make the WORLD BEATERS. Even though this clearly doesn't constitute a game anymore they still come with this weird half-globe for some reason. You're sure that doesn't have any weird or mystical properties at all.

@wolygan - WEAPON DELTA && GLUE GLOBE combine to make the HONEY BADGER PAWS. These no longer really seem like very effective weapons, but they'd probably be great for reaching your fat fuckin Pooh Bear mitts for some mother fuckin snacks.

@knuckleduster - DREAMCATCHER && WEAPON DELTA creates the WEBBIN' DELTAS. All the frozen north's centuries of science and magic combine so that the user can grab some stuff from a little further away and have it be a little bit sticky and unpleasant when it gets back to them.

This arsenal of deadly new triangles(?) is enough to bring the lapis imp down to just 1 (ONE) HIT POINT. Can we put our heads together and come up one really good idea to knock this little fucker down?!?

[kalied0skull]

something about tragic background characters that are known by nothing but name and two sentences you are SO dear to me

which is why i drew my sandy design under the request!!! of my dearest silly @stewdoesthings !

now playing: Cry to Me — Solomon Burke ♪

when I was drawing her, i kind of pieced together the lore i have for her in my head as i went on, sooo...

★ ramble under the cut !

Sandy's design to me is probably the most OUT THERE compared to all of the other outsiders girls I've got designs for (and also not finished, sandy is the first! (aside from angela))

I've always envisioned her as a beachy girl, having family out in florida and being a natural blonde. dunno why those pieced together beach girl to me.

whenever i think of sandy, i think of three characters combined: jenny from forrest gump, lily from the book we'll fly away, and sophie from mamma mia.

in my envisionary of absolutely bullshitting, sandy is a girl who lives for the islands and the sea. she's a girl looking for love, and constantly on the search for something. her father is a priest who's constantly away for weeks on end, her mother dead. she lives alone with only greasers and hoods to keep her company in their dingy neighborhood.

people whisper "well of course she's a teenage mom, have you seen her situation? she's just gone downhill since." and it tears at her. she knows what the people think. she can make guesses of what soda would think. she ruins herself over those thoughts.

i just never see a good future for her unfortunately. but like jenny, I'd also imagine she'd way later in the future reconnect with soda. send him love, ask him out to a party, they talk, he realizes how badly she changed, he tries to talk her into going home with him, she... runs away again.

sandy is impulsive, she's what I'd say be a hippie before hippies were even hippies. she's a peace-for-all and love-for-all kind of girl. she's patriotic in the sense of loving the lands, not the people. she doesn't care for people, not anymore at least. she lives for the breeze in her hair, the grass between her toes in fields that reach up to her waist. she's obsessed with sheep and cats, she drinks herbal tea in the mornings.

i do like to imagine that sandy did become an actual hippie once the late 60s really picked up on protesting. and i do also unfortunately believe she left her daughter in the process. her family all despised her, they kept the baby anyways though. sandy gets hooked on drugs, comes back every so often to see her daughter, maybe even takes the girl with her only to have her taken away.

with no daughter and the scared idea of running back to Tulsa with the boy of her teenage dreams, she just leaves. gone, without a trace. sandy probably goes missing. she ends up somewhere, in some place, with people she doesn't know, on a bad high. she should've left with soda honestly

i can't help but imagine the most tragic of endings for that girl :( getting constantly hurt in her life by the men around her, but yet they're the only people she knows and isn't scared of. she's just a really sad girl in my eyes

i do love her so so much though and arghhh she's such a casual favorite of mine.. .

anyways i hope people enjoy poc sandy, she's my lightskinned daughter and i adore her dearly

[sharksloveblud]

my 2¢ about today’s announcement:

GOOD FOR HIM.

Yes I’m shooketh, yes I’m sad especially since I missed my only chance to see them in the US in Orlando, but as someone who's struggled with chronic insomnia literally my entire life (I was on several tranquilizers at the same time at one point and even that didn't put me to sleep, and I'm also struggling with a bad episode currently), and combined with past remarks and hints we've gotten from Joel (not even mentioning he put off his shoulder surgery so as not to impact the momentum of the band), as sad as the news makes me, I would much rather Joel step out right now and try to get well, before he burns out permanently and causes himself irreparable harm. Hell, he may have already and that's what led to this (the phrasing in Joel’s statement makes me suspicious of this, but that’s not our business!)

A few days of interrupted sleep impacts your brain the same way being super drunk does. Long-term sleep deprivation can cause PERMANENT BRAIN DAMAGE. Your thought process is DEEPLY impaired and you cannot make proper decisions in that state, which is why I, personally, don't think the timing of this is weird at all. I think (I hope) maybe he finally had at least some days of half-decent sleep or even just good REST if not sleep and realized "I can't do this right now, this is unsustainable."

Do I hope he comes back? Of course.

Do I think this is the end of Joel making music in some form? Absolutely not. Whether it’s just playing his guitar on TikTok, or I could also see songwriting credits, vocal features, or even singles under his own name again after a break (please let this man actually take a break lol).

[seiwas]

Of course I forgot to send in the cute birthday celebration challenge forgive meee 😭 (but omg no pressure to answer if the birthday girl isn’t feeling up for it!!)

But let’s try…

Sun + Moon for our blasty boy Bakugo 👀

you catch katsuki in the in-betweens.

he’s grown suspicious of it—you know he out of all people would notice; but you neither confirm nor deny that it’s intentional.

there’s something about katsuki in that sliver of space and time right before sunrise and sunset—right before the shift into something new.

“someone’s excited,” you sneak up behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you kiss his cheek.

he grumbles before giving you a side-eye, cheeks turning a shade darker under the twilight. his lips part slightly as if he’s about to say something, but he tuts instead, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth—no sharpness, no bite.

you look at him curiously, hanging on to the stillness of the hour.

today is supposed to be a busy day—the start of a long trip for you and katsuki; the start of his first ever long trip, actually.

“somethin’ on my face or some shit?”

you snap out of staring, gaze falling straight into his—vermillion red softened into a deep mauve amidst the blue light.

this is why you do it—

the perpetual frown on his face is gone, the tightness of his jaw loosened. there’s a look in his eyes that tells you there’s been something on his mind for a long, long while.

—this is why you catch katsuki in the in-betweens.

you give him a small smile, a little mischievous as you lean in and peck him on the nose.

“now you do,” you giggle as you inch closer on the wooden step.

he rubs his nose immediately, checking for smudges of lipstick, “fuckin—“

“just all my lovin’,” you tease.

you’re half expecting him to get back at you for it—to tickle you or smother you in kisses of his own; katsuki can be aggressive in love, a fact you’ve come to know well over the years.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he stares. a few paused seconds that feel slowed down to eternity. there’s the look again, like something’s been on his mind, combined with the look people say he only has for you.

suddenly, you feel nervous—for what, you don’t know, but your hand searches for his out of instinct. it’s damp when your palm sticks against his, his fingers intertwining with yours like a habit of his own.

he turns your clasped hands over, catching view of the back of yours.

it stays quiet for a few moments—a side of him you only see in times like this. you know there’s a war waging on in his head, a decision he’s been mulling over just waiting to be spilled out.

you know because katsuki only ever sits out before sunrise when he has a lot on his mind.

“you okay?” you whisper.

he hums, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb, “just thinkin’.”

“you can tell me…” you nudge, “…if you want,” the butterflies in your stomach flapping harder.

you hold your breath.

he chuckles, that damn attractive half-sigh, “don’t know how yet.”

and you think you know what it is—a conversation you have every now and then, always with open-ended conclusions. katsuki has his issues, and so do you—

“just say it how it is,”

you never pressed him for answers, fully content to live at the pace he wanted because you loved him and that was enough.

—but when katsuki looks at you like this, like you’re everything gone right in his life, it’s hard not to think about the possibilities of more.

tears begin to collect along your waterline as he leads your hand into his pocket, your fingertips grazing a small velvet box.

you choke up, tears falling as you pout.

“woke up in the middle of the night with a fuckin’ god awful migraine,” he starts, wiping your tears with his thumb, “so i thought i’d go for a run, y’know, sweat it out and shit.”

you nod, listening.

“but when i got out of bed, you started mumblin’ my name,” he takes a deep breath, “thought you were awake, honestly, but you didn’t say anythin’ when i asked what you needed.”

“looked like you had a nightmare, so i went back to bed, and—” he pauses, collecting his words as he breathes out, “—you hugged me n’—”

his eyes gloss over as he tucks you into his side.

“—you told me you loved me.”

it’s not anything new—you both know that; you tell him you love him all the time. but—

“fuck, i’m ramblin’,” he half chuckles again.

“i love that about you too,” you sniffle, half-giggling as you nudge his chin with your nose.

you intentionally catch katsuki in the in-between’s because you love the side of him that comes out when he’s a little loose-lipped; a little less tense from all the day’s worries. you love the way he rambles, how he goes off on a tangent when he’s especially passionate about something.

he gives you a look so soft, your heart swells.

a small smile makes its way to katsuki’s face as he grips your hand tighter.

“couldn’t go back to sleep ‘cause all i was thinkin’ about was how to keep it this way forever.”

you’ve pictured this moment a few times before, all in different scenarios, situations, locations—always with the note that even if it didn’t happen, you’d be okay.

but now you have this: you and katsuki, on the wooden steps right by your garden bathed in twilight.

“decided on it for a while, just didn’t know when would be right,” he fishes the box out of his pocket, fiddling with it as he takes your hand in his other one.

“i know you said that lovin’ me was enough, but forever’s a fuckin’ long time,” he half-chuckles again, a little choked up, “you didn’t think i’d let you waste that on some loser who won’t even ask you to marry him, did you?”

you don’t think you’re coherent when you respond, a mess of tears and all the love you can pour out. katsuki doesn’t even get to show you the ring before you tackle him, nodding into his chest.

it doesn’t matter, anyway—

it was more than enough that he even asked.

n/a: thank u for sending this prompt erika!!! i am so rusty but i am writing this with all the katsuki feelings in me, my heart could burst!!!! sun & moon = twilight just because of the presence of both during that hour; i also just think it’s such a delicate balance to have—which i think also describes their relationship! katsuki has commitment issues 🥲 sorry, i love writing him in the process of healing ajkdndkd also !!! i also think katsuki can be romantic in his own way like wdym he reads all those shoujo mangas … there is stored romance in that boy . maybe not the smooooothest but yk. it works. and also, he wasn't rlly planning on proposing at this moment (more during the trip) but !! just felt right yk?

[luvingus]

Crack Theories

I've been a huge fan of Black Butler for years. My brain rot comes and goes in waves but with the hiatus and Emerald Witch Arc finally getting animated the worms have finally sunk in deeper than ever.

With all that being said with this newest arc being as dark as it is, I thought it would be fun to compile a list of some crack theories I have 😅. I want to preface this by saying I'm just going by vibes and feelings. I am just a silly little guy, (and as soon as I'm medicated it's over for my enemies).

Now onto the theories.

[ ] O!Ciels name is Cedric he's named after his grandfather. (It would make sense for his original name to have also been someoneelse's)

[ ] John Brown is a Grim Reaper

[ ] The Grim Reapers are actually from the future when they first become Grim Reapers management assigngns them to a period of time where they are less likely to know the people and souls they are meant to pass judgment on.

[ ] Undertaker was the cloaked figure that was just standing there when Sebastian was summoned.

[ ] This actually goes along with the previous theory Undertaker was going to let the twins die but bring them back as bizarre dolls.

[ ] Polaris is a combination of Sebastian the demons memories and Sebastian the Dogs memories

[ ] Since in universe the twins birthday is 5 days away (Snakes death supports this) there may be a reenactment of the twins birthday party (with less murder) but R!Ciel is going to end up orchestrating a kidnapping of his baby brother.

[ ] Rodney Hall the bellboy is a demon.(Vibes)

[ ] Sebastian vs hotel staff is going to be funny only because Sebastian is a petty attention whore. (Not a theory just something I want to manifest)

These are just a few of the silly theories I had cooking up in my brain. I'd love it if you guys share some of your own and if you have any questions feel free to ask.

[askvectorprime]

Dear Vector Prime, has there ever been a group of Cybertronians who have taken the alt modes of agricultural equipment? If so, can you please tell me more about them? Thank you very much.

Dear Farmer Friendly,

Certain versions of Cybertron, particularly during peacetime, are home to the Agricultural Guild. This organization oversees the farming and cultivation of fuel sources such as energon crystals, and as such many of their members take on the form of farming machinery. In one reality, an energon farmer named Megatron bristled against the Agricultural Guild, who enforced what he saw as archaic inefficiencies while refusing to offer any support to the lunar colonies. In another, the Guild was led by Brushguard, a talented but arrogant agriscientist; though Alpha Trion, head of the Guilds Domesticus, valued his advice, Supreme Commander Ultra Magnus never entirely trusted him, believing that his ambition might lead him to turn against the Autobots some cycle.

I assume, however, that you are asking about Cybertronians who have taken part in the Great War. Farming equipment is, I admit, much rarer amongst the Autobot and Decepticon armies; lacking either obvious military function or the practicality of common road vehicles as disguise, most farmers choose to undergo reformatting into a different alternate mode once they join up as soldiers.

The one major exception I can think of is the Decepticon Thresh. A hulking brute of a soldier, Thresh scanned a combine harvester upon arrival to Earth, and stubbornly refused to reformat away from it—he found it too much fun to menace humans, chasing them down as they tried desperately to escape his whirling blades. This bullheaded attitude eventually paid off for Thresh, as he was tasked with sabotaging Earth's defenders by destroying their farms and other sources of food. To aid him in this task, he was assigned the Agricons, a quartet of drones that transformed into agricultural machinery: a Tractor Drone, Grain Truck Drone, Loader Drone and Baler Drone, the last of which could be towed by the Tractor Drone. Thresh himself was also upgraded with Power Core Combiner technology, allowing him to combine with his drones to form a super mode, letting him take his love of destruction to a new level.

[msmk11]

hey! I’m kinda new to requesting anything so sorry if I mess it up 🤦🏽‍♀️

I was just wondering if you could write some angst + fluff about poly! marauders + Lily x fem reader. I love your writing style 💕 I don’t have any specific trope, maybe the miscommunication one?

Have a nice day 💕 thank you in advance

Hi lovely! I’m so sorry this took wayyyyyy too long for me to respond to, but here is my best try!

If your partners ask, you’ll deny it. But, yes, you are, in fact, hiding from them right now and sulking.

Why?

Because you’re too clingy. Apparently. You know they hadn’t meant for you to overhear it. They thought you were still asleep. But you did.

“They're clingier than Pads and Prongs combined” Remus had said, “and my limbs starts to hurt after a while when I can’t move with them on top of me.”

“I get so hot too,” Lily complains, “it’s too warm in the summer for cuddling but they insist.”

They hadn’t needed to name names, you knew Remus and Lily were talking about you. And you felt awful. You’d always worried you were too clingy and annoying and now it’d been confirmed.

You’re back in bed again, buried under the covers with a sleeping Sirius next to you. Of course, your skin itches to curl towards him, but you ignore your screaming instincts. Instead, you grip onto the pillow beneath you even tighter and huff frustratedly.

While you lay there agitated, you hear the door to your shared bedroom open. By the footsteps alone you know it’s James returning from his morning workout to take his shower. His heavy trod pauses near your “sleeping” body and then you feel his warm fingers dust across your cheek. Against your wishes your eyes flutter open and you’re met with James’ handsome face and lovely curls slicked with sweat.

Despite his protests that he smells after the gym, you quite like his musky scent of cologne and sweat. You always demand at least ten minutes of cuddle time with James post-gym before he showers just so you can soak up his scent.

So when you don’t instantly reach out to pull James down on top of you into bed, he frowns.

“What’s wrong, angel? Are you sick?”

He presses a kiss to your cool forehead.

“Nothing is wrong,” you murmur into the pillow.

“You’re not begging for your morning cuddles,” James pouts.

You wanna kiss that pout off his lips.

“I’m just not in a cuddly mood this morning.”

A voice behind you scoffs and Sirius’ tattooed arm suddenly snakes around your waist, pulling your back against his chest., “that’s bullshit. You’re always in a cuddly mood.”

“And your post-gym cuddles are always my favorite part of my morning,” James adds, “What’s going on, angel?”

“Tryingtobelessclingy,” you mumble under your breath.

Sirius kisses your bare shoulder, “you gotta speak up sweet cheeks.”

“I’m trying to be less clingy!”

James’ eyes widen and Sirius’ grip tightens at your petulant tone.

“Why the hell would you ever do that,” Sirius responds, his voice heavy with horror, “are you trying to kill me?”

“What he means,” James clarifies, “is that we love your clinginess. What put the idea in your head that we don’t adore how much you wanna touch us?”

You go quiet and bite your lower lip.

“Well?” your most dramatic boyfriend huffs impatiently.

James gives him a scolding look.

“Rem and Lils,” you nearly whisper.

They both go incredibly still and silent- more than you’ve ever seen them- and then Sirius is clambering over you and taking two steps at a time down to your living room. You sit up startled and James wraps his arms around you, pulling your head back against his chest. He kisses your temple, “I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of this.”

Despite the feigned indifference on your face, you’re quite relieved by James’ embrace and Sirius’ quick action.

Three sets of footsteps pound up the steps and you’re suddenly being fawned over by four pairs of hands.

“Dove, please let us explain!”

“Baby, you only heard part of the story.”

“I’ll always cuddle you as much as you want.”

“Let them take a breath.”

The last is said by James and your other three partners freeze and drop their hands.

“Sorry, dovey,” Remus murmurs softly.

Lily tentatively sits by your knee with pleading eyes, “just let us explain.”

“Not sure if you both deserve to explain,” Sirius answers stubbornly.

“It’s okay my love, you tell Sirius,” and you pull him down on your lap as you sit in James’ lap.

He nods quietly and takes your fingers into his, playing with them gently.

You watch Sirius as you murmur, “it’s okay if I’m too clingy. I’m sorry that I’ve made you both uncomfortable.”

A pair of pale fingers that belong to your girlfriend hook under your chin and force you to look into her green eyes.

“Baby, don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong, I promise. You just caught the wrong part of the conversation.”

Remus clears his throat, “yes, we were calling you clingy.”

Your heart drops.

“But,” Remus insists, “we didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”

“You said it hurts your limbs when I lay on you for too long. And Lils said she gets too hot.”

They both have the decency to look embarrassed.

"Both are true," Lily confesses, "But that doesn't mean we want you to stop. We all love your cuddles very, very much."

"I just don't want to be a burden."

Your girlfriend places a kiss between your brows, "you're never a burden. Just think of it like this- sometimes Sirius' yapping gets a little much, or Jamie's worrying, or Rem's grumpiness, and my stubbornness. But you love us all the same, right?"

You hesitantly nod, "of course."

Remus squeezes your free hand, "there you go. It's just the same. We may whine a little, but that doesn't mean we want you to stop."

"And you better not, or I'll never let you hear the end of it," Sirius promises.

You believe him, and you believe Lily and Remus too. How could you ever distrust one of them when James is holding you so tightly, Sirius is touching you so softly, Lily is saying such pretty words, and Remus is looking at you so warmly?

[dr-0-shadow]

Thank you! Sorry for taking so long to respond, took me a while to settle on ideas I was happy with sharing.

Since most of the names in Cotl are derived from Eurasian stuff, I tried drawing from other sources for these folks. honestly though, I had reservations since that might be considered cultural appropriation so its a mix of stuff.

Lupa: based on the wolf that raised Romulus and Remus. Leshy's equivalent and inverse. Female, Canine. Her region is an expanse of columns and arches, designed to allow as much light to come in as possible.

Ash: Heket's equivalent, though I'm not happy with their name/inspiration. Male, lion. Named after an Imazighen god that seams to have been appropriated/used by the Egyptians. Region is a full of cherry baring sakuras, with little to no undergrowth. Might rename them Bacchus or Komainu.

Ixsak: name is a butchered combination of two Myan glyphs associated with Goddess I (who's name is unfortunately lost to colonialism). Kallamar's equivalent. Female. Quetzal. Her domain is mountainous, jungley, any probably snowy, in a paradoxical way.

Frey: Shamura equivalent (with a little bit of Heket). Character informed by their namesake and being an inverse of Shamura. Boar (derived from Gullinbursti. Didn't realize it would tie into the twin aspect of Frey and Freya until a few seconds after deciding on it DX XD ). Non-binary like Shamura.

Additionally headcanon: the alt lands of the old faith probably draw from East Eurasia and Polynesia instead of the pseudo-west Eurasian feel we get in the actual game.

Hope you get some enjoyment out of my rambling!

Did you ever think up a name for the goat's patron? Curious because I love their desgin and I cant get them out of my head. Also, if its not too much trouble, do you mind going into your thoughts behind their design? For some reason I interpret it as vaugely Chinese/Journey to the West inspired (which has partly resulted in me calling them pigsy in my head), but idk if thats your you were going for.

(referencing the design found in this post)

Her name is Freya! She's the goddess of both life and death in her world, chained by her siblings to guarantee themselves immortality. She was freed from her chains by the Goat stealing her siblings' crowns and using their weapons to sacrifice himself in a vicious ritual that should have led to him being impossible to bring back from death's clutches. But Freya was terrified of losing him, and tried to stop him from slipping away as he died. She only managed to pin him between life and death, trapping him in the moments of his passing for what seemed like eons... Until a newly-crowned goddess from another world with an affinity for such things found and released him. (At least in the scrapped storyline / alternative AU where he appears!)

The main inspiration behind her design was that I wanted her to be an animal that's seen positively or negatively depending on the culture it's in, and has a connection with luck in order to contrast Narinder's being a black cat and fulfilling those requirements as well. So I made her a pig as a result!

I wanted her to contrast the Goat's very gloomy and dark design. She would have warm brown, bright gold, and vivid purple as her central colors as a result, though I didn't color her in the piece she appears in, so that's not clear at all, haha.

I'm not the best at conveying it in my art, but Narinder, at least in his updated design I never really draw, is meant to have diamonds as the main shape that his design is built around. He's supposed to have diamond-shaped eyes, ears, face, etcetera. And Freya has hearts to contrast that! A shape that has roundedness to its points.

I wasn't very inspired by Chinese motifs while designing Freya beyond the symbolism of pigs in that culture helping me choose her species. But her earrings were semi-inspired by furin wind chimes, which originate in Japan! You can read about those on their Wikipedia page here. I imagine that Freya would be the inspiration behind her world's lore for their version of furin.

As a little bit of parting trivia: the Goat was the one to do all of the plotting to free Freya, contrasting the Lamb and Narinder's dynamic. He was so utterly head over heels for her after she saved him from the massacre of his people, ashamed of her siblings' actions, that he was willing to do whatever it took for her to see the world she loved again, free of shackles.

[kubeesart]

━━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻💐༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━━

[ Cookie Run x Dandy’s World WIP ]

✎ | I recently got back into CRK after 2-3 years and I’ve been thinking about a crossover AU (?) of Kingdom and Dandy’s world… specifically which main toon from DW would be which ancient cookie from CRK.

[LONG RAMBLE BELOW]

I’m not sure if anybody has a similar idea but oh well.

I’m currently thinking:

Pure Vanilla : Astro

Hollyberry: Shelly

Dark Cacao : Sprout

Golden Cheese : Vee

White Lily : Dandy

(Pebble can be a cake hound ahahhds)

✎ | While I see Dandy’s canon personality/vibe as Pure Vanilla (leader and the “mascot”), I see his actions and role of the story more so in White Lily than any other main toon (as of right now). Then again, I’m basing this off what I’m thinking the DW lore is heading towards since we don’t have much DW lore to go off as of right now. I believe Dandy’s intentions of meddling with ichor is rooted in good-intentions (trying to help the toons with ichor experiments I’m guessing), similar to how White Lily wanted to find the truth for the betterment of cookiekind despite the warnings. I ultimately made Dandy White Lily’s character since they’re both flower-based and I like how my interpretation of Dandy aligns with her.

✎ | I think in my version of the crossover AU, Dandy-White Lily (Rainbow Lily) would have the more upbeat Dandy personality before the events leading up to the transformation of Dark Enchantress. Astro-Pure Vanilla (…Vanilla Mooncake Cookie?? I don’t know for sure yet) would have a more reserved personality before too. After the Dark Flour War and when Gingerbrave and gang comes, the two characters’ personalities change and essentially become the opposite of what we first see them as (or the current personalities that White Lily and Pure Vanilla have).

✎ | I know Astro’s personality fit White Lily better (I mean, look at that moonflower costume LOL) but I think my mind is prioritizing actions and roles in story for the crossover. I think Astro fits better with the unwavering hope and compassion of Pure Vanilla too. I also want to see some doomed or strained (?) dynamics. I absolutely adore my headcanon of Vee and Dandy’s friendship being doomed/strained and I want to see that in my QUEENS Golden Cheese and White Lily.

(The tags have more rambling, sorry for the bad grammar and spelling everywhere AHDHSHSSHA)