#would they bounce

[trash-panda-paws]

Do babies have enough mass to fly through a windshield as the result of a car accident? Or would they just bounce off like the rubber-boned beings that they are

[jojaxcola]

we're like eighty percent sure that's just water

[jojamart mockumentary #2]

[ prev || next ]

[porrigens]

pegoryu valentine :3

[aalghul]

once again thinking about jason as duke’s robin. he’s ~4 years younger than jason, and that puts him at 8-12 during Jason’s time as robin. that’s prime time to get attached to your local kid vigilante before your own life goes downhill.

and if we try to keep duke’s meeting with bruce in zero year + duke’s age (so he can remember the meeting and hold that conversation with bruce), he has to be around 8. if he starts following batman through the news at that time because of the mess that just happened, the robin he sees is probably jason. I’ve literally connected the dots

[random-cockroach]

Only three chapters in but already rolling in coziness and silliness pfhghehg sealpatico au by @fascinationex

[padmestrilogy]

it is interesting that for all the talk of “fixing” padme and making her “more than a weeping wife”, the idea of padme choosing to die while pregnant remains this huge taboo. post after post about freeing her from sexist writing, and ppl still can’t imagine a padme separate from her children. her ultimate purpose remains motherhood. padme refusing motherhood/being unhappy in motherhood is taken as a total impossibility. it has to be sith life force draining, it has to be the force choke, it has to be bad space gynecologists (??). it can’t be that a mom lost the will to live despite her babies. that doesn’t happen!!

[glitchgh0sty]

🎵 if you’re ready for some lore and ya know it, clap your hands 🎶👏👏

Essentially, Decepticon!Prowlers got some, *cough* upgrades that I should probably mention,,

[Lots of exposition beneath cut 🫶TuŤ]

During Prowls earlier days as tactician for the Decepticons,, his superiors found that his tactical strategies tended to increase in accuracy when surveying the ongoing battles from a 1st person perspective,,

Close field monitoring made it easier for him to guesstimate percentages [and become desensitized to immediate battle brutality], The troops he was in charge of began to survive more and more frequently due to his input,, and because of this he was put in charge of more and more squadrons.

However, this comes as no surprise to us, Prowl is a powerful tactician after all. ✨

But Shockwaves understanding of his talent might be a little more, how to put it,, twisty?? Essentially, Shockwave noticed that Prowl’s accuracy increased the more integrated he was into the physical senses of the soldiers in the squandrant he was surveying. Up until that point Prowl had been receiving his data through the lens of a faulty camera located somewhere on a select infantry soldiers frame, and had become too valuable to send to the frontlines where all the most important data was being received,,

So?

Shockwave had a little idea ✨

Dedicate that infantry soldier to be Prowls eyes, modify that soldier so Prowl may see what they see, hear what they hear, feel what they feel. One frame practically living in another,, integrate it so that both Prowl and the soldier take on modifications, such as,,

Prowl: Split doorwings for more data collection / sensitivity, hooks pried between wrist plates for more immediate machine response, and plz just take your worst nightmare and put it right where the processor goes

Infantry / Soldier: Forced installation of heavy weaponry, optic replacement, and a series of wires installed throughout the frame to connect to every sensitivity nerve imaginable, like someone’s put a second layer over all of your 5 senses, but like, inside your body

Prowl would be able to access everything the soldier senses without the ability to physically interfere with whatever the soldier is doing.

Think of it this way. He is able to fully experience whatever that soldier is going through,, [though he often disables the inconvenience of pain], but he isn’t able to move the soldiers blaster or make that soldier walk. He is simply a spectator who analyzes the given data to be sent to the leaders of the troops as tactical command

Prowl is also highly adverse to the idea of being in direct contact with the foot soldiers over the course of the battle as it seems to negatively effect group cooperation when one dude is acting like their lowkey - high key possessed [because having Prowl communicate with them is less like a signal interception and more like someone is moving your mouth to make you hear things you don’t know yet]. Because of this Prowl is only able to [and only has the desire to] contact the Generals directly.

Even if that soldier is in danger, ESPECIALLY if that soldier is in danger,, Prowl would not interfere audibly with them due to the fact that the Autobots have been redoubling their efforts in discovering the significance of these [Ghost] soldiers as every time they get rid of one, another simply comes to take their place with eerily similar tactical style

If you’ve made it this far?? Please take this spoof as compensation cause ohmigosh that was a lot of words 🫶TuŤ:

[moopsoup]

rafayel who starts off all innocent, arms wrapped around you, his body warm against yours. but you can feel it. his cock. pressed up against your ass, hard and throbbing, twitching every time you shift even a little.

“you’re hard.” your voice is a quiet whisper, teasing but acknowledging the obvious.

rafayel lets out a breathy chuckle, pressing a soft kiss against the back of your neck. “yeah? who’s fault do you think that is, cutie?” his hands are resting on your waist, thumbs rubbing lazily under the hem of your shirt. “just… let me feel you. just for a second, yeah?”

before you can even respond he’s already pushing your panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them down. the blunt tip of his cock nudges at your entrance, and he groans low when he feels how warm and wet you are.

“just the tip,” he murmurs in a promising tone, pushing in just enough to stretch you open.

and at first, that’s really all it is. just the tip. just barely inside. not even fully sinking in. but very slowly he shifts a little closer, grinding against you, sliding in just another inch. then another…..and another. slow teasing and thrusts just barely moving but still pressing deeper, pushing in inch by inch.

it’s only when you finally realize how full you feel that your breath catches. “rafayel… you said just the tip.”

he hums as if pretending like he’s considering your words but the way his hips roll against you says otherwise. “mm, i did, didn’t i?” his voice is smooth, almost smug. “guess i got a little carried away.”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Behold, a Bunny!

(for @alliechickfic on twitter)

[batsyheere]

The dynamics between Dan, Danny and Ellie are so funny to consider. Danny is far too used to handling Sam and Tucker at their worst and now he has an additional gremlin duo who picked up whatever madness was in Vlad's system when he decided cloning was a great idea. (Danny is highly aware that it is not a good thing to have more him in the world and has resolved to better avoid clone plots). Meanwhile Dan and Ellie will fight over the most random, inane things, but the minute it's about family they band together into a proper terror and the only beings able to stop them are Jazz in her disappointment if the situation calls for it, and sleep deprived Danny who does not realize his exhausted presence is like a terrifying parental figure catching their kid doing something stupid.

It gets even funnier when Jazz finally breaks out of the mindset that she needs to be in charge and instead enjoys herself, and so the only leash for the three most feral Fentons (honorary and named) is a perpetually tired teen/young adult.

Now drop that in Gotham.

[katabay]

some sam drakes :)

nate's theme 4.0 came up on my playlist while I was working on commissions and oh boy. that piano line about a minute in to it still gets me emotional shshdshs

[icrytearsofsadness]

Billy really liked to move while he was driving.

Steve really liked to watch.

Billy was reckless in a way that was just on that side of scary, because he’d take his eyes off the road to grin over at Steve like a maniac and Steve’s eyes would widen, watching the speedometer tick up behind the dash, music blasting from the stereo.

He moved so fucking much. He’d hit the wheel with the heel of his palm, bop his head, sometimes he’d bounce his entire fucking body if he really liked a song. The faster the better.

Steve liked the thrill, honestly. Billy let him roll the windows down so wind whipped through the car, making his eyes water because Billy drove so fucking fast.

It was their weird little ritual. Steve didn’t know what normal friends did anyway – he’d realized over the last few years that he didn’t actually have any of those, probably never had. If Billy knew, he certainly didn’t show it, which told Steve he liked doing this just as much as Steve did.

Steve would tumble into the passenger seat and Billy would peel out of his driveway like the road was on fucking fire, music already blaring and they’d just go. For as long as Steve needed, really, because Billy’s energy was goddamn endless. At some point Steve would start to get tired, the adrenaline of the whipping wind and Billy’s reckless behavior finally wearing down his brain so he could maybe get a good night’s sleep for once. Every time Steve started to wilt, Billy still looked like he could go for fucking days.

Steve asked him, one time, what Billy did with all the leftover energy after he dropped Steve back at home.

Billy had looked over at him, smiling with his teeth, leering. Moved to the beat, making an obscene motion with his right hand in time. Grinned even wider when Steve turned red and had to look away.

It was intoxicating, just watching him. Even if he was a total asshole. And gross.

Steve never got bored.

He was starting to remember Billy’s favorite songs, too. He’d always had a decent mind for music, and Billy was just so easy to read, the way he’d rock when something good came on the radio, pleasantly surprised, because Steve didn’t let him play his tapes every time. He’d go crazy eventually if they did that. Billy always complained when Steve switched on the radio, flicking through the channels, but he never stopped him, just dialed up the volume when something “worth listening to” came on and – and fucking rock.

Steve thought it was maybe the hottest thing he’d ever seen, watching Billy’s manic grin break across his face, left hand slamming down on the wheel, right reaching to crank the volume. He’d be already bouncing with the beat, leveraging himself with the foot not on the gas so he could lift his hips and rock his whole body in the seat, curls bouncing with the motion. He always had his shirt unbuttoned practically to the navel, and when he moved the collar would fall open around his chest. His head would bob, dipping and sometimes rolling back and Steve wanted to fuck him so bad it actually hurt. Wanted to put Billy’s rock mix in and crank up Panama by Van Halen and watch Billy bounce to the beat in his lap, watch his head tip back in a different kind of ecstasy.

Steve didn’t even need help to sleep, didn’t need adrenaline to turn his brain off tonight but he was so worked up just thinking about it that he called Billy anyway.

Billy never said no.

Maybe that was what made Steve feel bold.

He picked up, he said you’re paying for gas and I’m picking the music which meant yes, and Steve knew that if he reached for the radio anyway Billy would let him, but that wasn’t in the plans tonight.

He threw himself into the passenger seat like he was tired even though he wasn’t, because he needed an excuse, and because he got so fucking high on the way Billy grinned when Steve’s energy spiraled higher and higher the longer they spent together. Like maybe he was just as interested in working Steve up as Steve was in making Billy bounce.

Steve was feeling bold tonight.

Billy peeled out of the driveway without saying anything, and Steve was fine with that. Rock music was blasting, one of Billy’s mixes. Steve recognized it just by the Poison song that was blaring, but he wasn’t going to show his hand that early.

“Y’okay, pretty boy?”

Steve looked over, confused as to where that was coming from – they were five songs in and Steve was letting his energy slowly bleed through.

He’d forgotten to open the window. Usually he rolled it all the way down to feel the wind whip, but he was so high on the feeling of I’m gonna fucking do it tonight that he hadn’t even noticed.

“I’m great,” Steve said, grinning because they were far enough into the night that he didn’t need to pretend to be exhausted anymore.

Billy looked over at him like he was going to ask more, but then Rock You Like A Hurricane came on and Steve knew he’d forget for the next four minutes, because this was one of Billy’s favorites and Billy was already reaching over to blast the volume.

They were kind of in the middle of nowhere by now, cruising down a road that ran parallel to the train tracks, through the woods. It was late. No one was around, and Billy’s favorite song was on and Steve was feeling bold.

And yeah, normally Steve’s heart rate would kick up anyway when this one came on, because he still remembered the first time he’d seen Billy, pulling into the school lot with it blasting through the speakers, looking like he’d just stepped out of a damn magazine. Normally his heart would start thumping because Billy fucking loved this song and he’d rock. Steve knew he would rock if he let him, knew he’d get to watch Billy move, but that wasn’t in the plans tonight.

“Pull over.”

“What?” Billy snapped, sounding scandalized, yelling over the pure volume rattling the car.

“Pull over!”

And Steve knew all Billy wanted to do right now was grind his boot into the gas even further, but instead he made a feral sort of growling sound and pulled over, slamming on the brakes and throwing the car into park.

Billy grabbed the volume dial and yanked it down, which was a shame, because Steve was sure the Scorpions weren’t meant to be listened to quietly.

“What,” Billy said again, glaring at Steve, but Steve could see the flicker of something – concern, he realized, because Steve hadn’t rolled down the window, and had asked him to pull over, and Steve knew this was Billy’s favorite song.

Steve was feeling bold.

He reached for the stereo and cranked the volume all the way back up. He felt better instantly, the bass drum rattling his ribcage.

He grabbed Billy by the collar of his open button down and kissed him.

Billy went stock-still just long enough for Steve to wonder if he’d royally fucked up before he just rolled with it, recovering from the shock and kissing back.

Steve knew he’d be a good kisser, because, yeah. But throwing himself into it now, he couldn’t help wondering why they hadn’t been doing this the whole time. He could have been bold so much sooner, if the way Billy was practically devouring his mouth was anything to go on.

And then Steve wasn’t thinking much of anything at all, because Billy was fucking climbing over the center console and –

Steve yelped involuntarily when Billy abruptly grabbed the lever to slam his seat back, giving him a brief moment of vertigo before his stomach swooped for a very different reason as Billy settled firmly into his lap and kissed him like he was starving.

There was the third chorus, the familiar guitar riff mounting and Steve’s hands flew to hold on to literally anything as Billy rocked.

He was going to die like this. He had Billy Hargrove in his lap and he was going to die. His heart literally could not take it, getting fucking exactly what he’d been fantasizing about after so many nights of adjusting himself while Billy’s eyes were on the road for once. Scorpions was blasting but every sound Billy made went straight into Steve’s mouth, so he heard them all anyway.

Billy’s mouth was wet and unbearably hot, and Steve couldn’t get his breath under him. His bones were rattling with the base, ears thrumming with his blood and too much noise.

Steve was desperate to get his hands on Billy, so he shoved one inside the open button-down and around, palm splaying over the curve of Billy’s ribs, fingertips on his spine. His skin was burning. Billy shuddered a little and didn’t stop kissing him. Steve was so focused on trying to crawl under Billy’s clothes, into his skin if he could, that it was hard to focus on being coordinated.

The kiss devolved into a messy slide, just Billy’s lips catching and slipping on Steve’s, and too much tongue, and, and, Billy broke away from his mouth for just a second to mouth sloppily down Steve’s jaw. It was good, so good, the heat of his breath intensified by the wet of his tongue on Steve’s skin and Steve actually couldn’t take it, so he grabbed Billy by the hair to hold him still while Steve dove back into his open mouth.

The song finally changed, because apparently they’d been making out for four full minutes, and Steve recognized the opening bars immediately.

He laughed, a giddy, breathless sort of sound, and managed to get out “is this Jet?” like he wasn’t sure, like Billy had actually kissed him stupid, like Steve hadn’t lost his breath watching Billy move to Cold Hard Bitch a dozen times before.

Practically the moment the name was out of his mouth Billy made a pained sort of moaning noise and muttered back “shut up” and rocked, so Steve did, because he was feeling smug as fuck but Billy Hargrove was grinding in his lap like there was no tomorrow and that was definitely more important. And memorizing Billy’s music worked, apparently, because then Billy was sliding down his body and had Steve in his mouth even before Nic Cester sang the first on my knees.

[bamgeut]

catbin 🐰🐱

[clumsypuppy]

Alex and my farmer Cosmo (he/him)

[andy-clutterbuck]

Rick's leather sling | requested by EVERYONE

[theimpurelily]

I adore Di-er and his little smiley faces from @k0mmari fic Endless Abyss Travel Guide

everyone plz go read it!

got inspired for the color palette from k0mmari's amazing art (warning spoilers)