#not in standard continuity

[piningpercussionist]

*falls down 20 flights of stairs and ends up at your feet, pathetically looking up*

Hey gril. Hopital

... You're so damn lucky we have decent healthcare here...

(ooc: sorry, your ask was extremely Roxie coded to me.)

[orb-weaving]

Recognition

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

I'm sorry but the irony of Nico calling Max unprofessional is sending me so bad like sir there's an entire garage full of people, who were literally in the trenches trying to survive the Brocedes fallout while just doing their jobs, who might have a few things to say about your (& Lewis') level of professionalism at that time 😭✋️

[phantomrose96]

There's something funny or ironic in the fact that Carpenter gets to curse out the Trawlerman's name to the high-heavens at the breaking point of her faith and the Trawlerman's response, in cryptic god form, seems to be "what, no, I'm still cool :) Look what I can do the Bellwethers :) I still love you Carpenter :) I'll keep you safe even when you're a pariah of the faith :) I'll kill my own faithful before I let them kill you :) Because we're buds and I like you :) I like Carpenter."

Meanwhile when Faulkner has his "curse out the Trawlerman's name to the high heavens" religious breaking-point breakdown, Trawlerman goes ">:(" and it. It does not go the same as it does for Carpenter....

[frownyalfred]

🍄 (share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings)

Bruce is really, really good at moving furniture. So much so that even when he’s just freshly dating Clark, Lois recruits him to help move some furniture to a new apartment she doesn’t trust with movers. It’s half said as a joke, but Bruce actually shows up. With Dick and maybe Jason as helpers. And they problem solve the hell out of getting her priceless antique cabinet across town. This wins Bruce tons of brownie points with Lois, who gives her stamp of approval for the relationship not long after.

[transformers-synergize]

do seeker sizes reflect the size of whatever jet they scan?

all bot sizes are reflected in their alt mode; bots can only take on alt-mode in their size class, so a bot with a fighter jet or truck alt would be much larger than a bot who turns into a car or a stunt plane. Mass displacement is not a thing in synergized. The size of a bot is always around the size of their alt-mode,

Bot sizes are generally sectioned into size ranges. Standards are not an exact height or weight but a vague general size range that is used as an indication of what size alt-mode they can take on. If a bot says their standard one, it means they could probably easily take on a normal car alts, stunt plane alt, or a smaller boat alt

Some sizes are more common than others. If you round every bot size to the nearest standard sizing, 20% are mini, 40% are standard 1, 25% are standard 2, 10% are standard 3, 4% are standard 4, 0.97% are standard 5, the last 0.03 percent is non-standard cybertronains like shuttles, cassettes and titans

Most bots who get seeker modifications are between standard 3 and 4 but can be as small as a standard mini, though that is extremely rare.

Seekers are just normal cybertronians with heavy modifications that allow them to fly in robot mode, so the same rule applies. they start off life as normal ground bots, so unless stated otherwise, lore for unmodified bots usually applies to seekers

[fakesorbet]

they had very contrasting parents and yet it didn’t change anything

[oddthingsndaydreams]

Somedays the artblock wins. Somedays inspiration smashes you like a cadillac on a random dashboard recommend. @transformers-synergize your redesigns are so pretty ;^;

[lotuswaffle]

If my future partner doesn't overdramatically kick open a door bcs they heard me crying only for it to slam shut in their face again, I don't want them

[piningpercussionist]

*BONK*

[transgenbur]

(tubbo is rebuilding the l'manberg tree. he places a block wrong. i guess. i can't really see from this scuffed VOD view)

tommy, immediately: and you've done it wrong. wilbur wouldn't have done that. wilbur wouldn't have done that!!!!

quackity: wilbur is rolling in his grave right now.

tommy: wilbur is EYEROLLING in his grave right now

[bloomingdarkgarden]

but what if i release dark academia elriel chapter one tonight.

[starryoak]

I swear to god if i have to read another post claiming Toriel is obviously an alcoholic and a bad parent for daring to get excitable when drunk (which is not in fact the same thing as having a problem with alcohol) and not obsessively worrying over her teen who is of a developmentally appropriate age to be allowed to do what they want on the weekends without adult supervision, I’m going to lose it.

[starflungwaddledee]

[stage 2 loaded. now playing: rambling rainforest.] the smell of pine and stale water lingers in the air.

<< prev || [masterpost] || next >> /// you can vote for starstruck in round 1 here! 📋

[rauferes]

For my current longfic, I've been having fun making up my own comparative biology stuff for elves. The most recent one that's tickling me (inspiration from any_open_eye's work for this one) is that human penises are, uh, significantly larger than elven ones. (Human penises are actually weirdly large in our world-- compared to other animals, and definitely other primates, we're disproportionate).

Which is going to make it hilarious when my elven main character finally gets in Emmrich's pants and finds his jusssst-above-human-average 6" cock... which is the elven equivalent of finding out your lover is packing 8". (For people used to the typical and rather generous self-reporting of size: that's the 99.9th percentile folks. Get a thousand very excited men in the same room and this dick will be the longest.) (Don't worry about my search history, don't-- don't worry about it.)

She isn't even a bigger=better person. She's going to be SO taken aback and I'm going to have so much fun writing it.

[inhurtandincomfort]

for eldwin? 👮 - Have them arrested

This was fun 😇 From this ask game

CW: Forced stripping, noncon touching, implied/referenced noncon (not what's happening here, but like. it's happened in the past. {and will happen again}), I guess self-harm at the end (not sure if it counts but to be safe)

"Keep your hands above your head."

"Yeah yeah, I've done this before." Eldwin rolled his eyes but complied, allowing an officer to pat him down for contraband. She wasn't gentle, because clearly he wasn't already injured enough. A dagger, a pocket knife, cigarettes ("That's not illegal!") an aether replenishment potion ("It's only mild!") some smoke bombs, several poisons, and corrosive acid ("Yeah okay that one's fair.") The senior officer kept a neutral expression on her face, but her subordinate was not so controlled. As more items were confiscated his brows shot up into his hairline. It would have been comical if the situation wasn't so dire.

"Hey, watch it!" Eldwin snapped at the officer when her rough hands began get a little too comfortable touching him, lingering a little too long. "I know damn well you're not supposed t- oh, be careful with that! It will explode with sudden movement."

Eldwin couldn't help but smirk as the mans face paled. He slowly put down a glass vial as though it might shatter on impact.

"Alright, that's enough of that," the officer said at last. Before Eldwin could mutter "finally" she continued, "Strip."

He froze. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"You and I both that's not necessary."

"I just found an awful lot of illegal and highly dangerous items on your person. I think a more through search is in order."

"The only other weapon is my magic, you know this."

"Whether you're leaving today or not, we need to at least pretend you're playing by the same rules. If you want to end it here, fine by me. I'll have someone fetch the suppressants, and it will be on record that you are an unauthorised sorcerer, and then you won't be getting off so easily. Why the hesitance? If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear." Her voice hardened. "Strip. All of it. I won't ask again."

Eldwin stared at her wordlessly before dropping his gaze to the floor. He cursed under his breath, and his shaking hands moved to unbutton his shirt. He winced as he shrugged it off his shoulders. He must have damaged something, one was stiff and painful to move. He let his clothes fall to the ground. The air on his flushed skin felt like ice.

He was going to be in so much trouble later. This was the least of his worries. And really, he should be used to it by now. It's not like he was a person. Privacy was a luxury he was rarely afforded. Yet despite an endless stream of people determined to exert their power over him, the humiliation never lessened. Fully exposed, he trembled in the cold. His face burned. He fought to resist the urge to cross his legs and wrap his arms around himself, for all the good it would do. He stayed there, feet apart, arms held up letting himself be ogled like some sort of freak exhibition.

"Open your mouth," the officer ordered. Eldwin complied, though it hurt to do so. He was sure his face must be swollen. She harshly grabbed his jaw and shoved gloved fingers inside his mouth, near the back of his throat nearly making him gag. Her other hand trailed downward, digging into the bruises on his hip, his thighs. Shadows stirred in the deepest crevices of his mind, dark whispers threatening to tug at loose threads to make him unravel. He wanted to close his eyes, to let himself drift away and go anywhere else, be anyone else-

It will feel worse if you do.

It would be one thing if she was clinical, but every touch was agonisingly slow, deliberate, pressing fresh wounds and tender muscles all while the other watchman leered. He hadn't bothered to hide his disgust when he stared at the daemonic sigil but the moment Eldwin's body was on full display, every scar, every failure etched forever into his wretched flesh, that revulsed gaze turned into morbid fascination. Envisioning adding his own mark of ownership to this desecrated doll of a canvas.

It could always be worse.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally told him to get dressed. He wasted no time in doing so, throwing on his crumpled clothes uncaring of the dirt and blood that stained them. His jacket was dark, it was barely visible. He just wouldn't think about it. He was good at doing that.

He pretended not to hear the disappointment in her tone.

—

It was all standard procedure after that. His hands were cuffed behind his back and shit, do they need to be so fucking rough. He was shoved into a thankfully empty holding cell. That was one perk of being a social pariah - you get special privileges such as a private cell to prevent you from being ruthlessly attacked. Almost made it all seem worth it.

Under the cover of nightfall he was released, someone having come to collect him after paying his bond. To his dismay the woman from before was still on shift. But she didn't say anything other than ordering him to follow her. She didn't unchain him until they were in the entrance, and it was only when he was there that he realised he'd been focusing on the wrong thing all along. Nothing happened in the guards station. Nothing worth his anguish.

What would happen at home, however, may be a different story.

He dropped to one knee with his fist held over his thumping heart, his head bowed low so his hair fell into his face. He did not dare to speak. It wouldn't be any use anyway.

"Get up." Clyde's voice dripped with venom in a way Eldwin hadn't heard from him in a long time. Dread weighed around his neck like a sack of stones, holding him down even as his brain begged him to move. Do as he says! It will be worse if you don't.

He didn't have to look at Clyde to know his minuscule drop of patience was fading. No sooner had Eldwin began to shakily stand, Clyde nearly pulled his arm from its socket with the force with which he dragged him, pulled him close before enclosing a hand around the back of neck to lead him outside where a ride was waiting. Clyde opened a storage compartment in the back. "Get in."

Eldwin glanced fearfully at the tiny space. Surely he didn't actually expect him to get in there? He was small sure, but not that small. But he could feel Clyde's glare boring into him. He was violently shivering as he climbed into the compartment, having to curl up tightly to do so. He was still squeezed uncomfortably between every side. Panic gripped his throat, already he was finding it hard to breathe. When the roof slammed down hard enough to make the world shake, he was plunged into complete darkness. He felt a jolt that indicated they'd started moving.

You fucked up, he told himself. Good job, idiot. You fucked up big time. His lungs constricted painfully and he closed his eyes, trying to stifle himself by biting one of his own fingers, hard enough to leave teeth marks through leather gloves. There was nothing else he could do, he needed that distraction, he needed the pain to keep himself together, to force himself to stay calm, don't panic, don't make a sound. You don't get to be afraid. Whatever's happening, whatever will happen, you can face it. You've probably done it before. You can do it again.

He'll be fine. He always was.