#<- past in this scenario

[transingthoseformers]

Dominus, staring directly at Brainstorm:

Brainstorm: ??

Brainstorm: Rewind can you get your ex-husband? He's looking at me funny

Dominus, who has already identified Brainstorm's thing for Perceptor: (I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE)

[umblrspectrum]

how do lighting and shading work

[cursedcola]

Yuu: “It’s time I told you guys about my lore” *whips out powerpoint*

Riddle:….lore?

Azul: Oh - so you’re a gamer.

Idia: Oh - so you’re traumatized

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[moon-ttokki-x]

hello 😁 i hope u are good 🫶 can i req something pls? 🙏 i saw ur post abt protective skz with their maknae reader but what abt a protective reader? 😏 who is usually shy, but loses her temper when angry: doesn't take hate lightly, makes sure they eat and rest, unafraid of talking back, ready to fight off anyone, glaring at everyone (it would be cute, but it gets scary when she is mad mad), etc. 🤔

hi this is a cool request~ i bet the boys would have a lot of fun with a scary member who's also really cute >< here you go !!

₊✩‧₊˚౨ ot8!skz x protective fem!reader ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

pairing: ot8!skz x protective fem!reader

summary: how skz would be around a protective ninth member <3

genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, mentions of eating and drinking, chan shaking in his boots lmao

a/n: this aesthetic is so cute . . . div by @huraxy

skz masterlist

usually you're super chill

like kind of shy, really; not the type to shout or mess around like the guys do

most of the time, you're by felix or minho's side

because they're the least chaotic members of the group (most of the time anyway)

and it's just nice to be all quiet and observant from behind their shoulders

they know you're kind of shy, but oh man, wait til you get mad

even the maknaes shut up instantly when you raise your voice

bc you mean BUSINESS

doesn't matter how short you are you'll fight anyone within a certain distance

including chan (crazy right?)

who is also scared of your temper, even if it doesn't show up that often

which is why it's so terrifying when your voice booms through the studio or recording room, louder than thunder

everyone just keeps their head down and listens to you

hyung line is secretly so jealous of your commanding aura

after you're done shouting you just kind of go back to your normal shy demeanour, or leave the room

and everyone's just left shaking in their boots like

what the fuck??

you don't get angry often, and it's always for a valid reason, so they get it

stay knows that too; you've told interviewers and tv show hosts and even mnet staff to back off or stop being rude

you can make anyone listen; no one expects the shy little member to have the strongest voice

same with rude 'fans'

they don't always listen but most of them have a very healthy respect for your emotions

you're always making sure skz takes care of themselves too

especially the members who tend to overwork or get distressed easily

you always make sure to chase them up and give them something to eat

or tell them to go and drink water

or you just hold a fistful of their hair firmly (without hurting them) and watch them actually ingest food

they always give you pouty eyes but you never give in

you're just hardcore like that

and you don't let them go until they've swallowed the last mouthful

when you guys go out to eat, you're the person always heaping food on their plates

'eat eat you EAT'

bc i know these mfs forget to nourish themselves properly

so it's nice to have you take care of them

especially the younger ones

they do the same for you too, but they wouldn't dare touch your hair

they're too scared to in fear of messing it up and irritating you

the sassier ones like minho and seungmin are amazed at how much you talk back

like it's insane

chan schedules extra practice? "i don't want to, we already have so much to do"

hyunjin wants to have his vocal lesson before yours? "i scheduled mine earlier so you should have done the same"

you're just an absolute lion

sometimes you have to get told off because you're getting too sassy

but the boys can't help but take it easy on you

you're just so cute

even if you act like a demon from the underworld

oh well

but

even your gaze is scary

the boys often find themselves jumpscared

like they'll walk into a room and you're just sitting there like >:|

like an owl

you know how they have big wide eyes that stare into your soul?

your gaze is like that

felix jokes that you could burn lasers with how intense your stare is

it even looks intense when you're just sitting having a great time

in dead silence

the members don't mind though, whatever makes you happy makes them happy too !!

they get used to your little habits, and they all work around your demeanour

you're all one big happy group <3

a/n: okay maybe i wrote headcanons because i don't have the motivation nor the energy to write a full fic . . . oh well

ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca

send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !

[slippedtheknot]

"I Didn't Mean to,"

Whumpee sobbed as their shaking fingers grabbed pieces of porcelain. Blood dripped onto the floor from the sharp edges.

Heavy boots were coming down the hall and Whumpee tried moving faster; no doubt that Whumper would be pissed that Whumpee broke his plate. Whumpee swallowed when the boots stopped in front of them.

"Uh oh, what happened, Whumpee?" Whumper's voice was an eerie type of calm.

Whumpee tried to still their breathing so that they would be slightly coherent: "I...I broke a plate. I promise that I didn't mean to though! It...it just slipped from my hands when I was putting dishes away and I tried to clean it up. Not to hide the fact that I dropped it just-"

"Hey hey, it's all okay." Whumper's hand rubbed the back of Whumpee's neck and they froze; waiting for Whumper to slam their head into the floor. "Can you look up for me, Whumpee?"

Whumpee tilted their head up and was met with minty green eyes. That's odd...as far as Whumpee knew Whumper had cold and distant blue eyes that would stare into their soul. As far as Whumpee knew, Caretaker had the minty green eyes.

Whumpee blinked again and looked into his eyes. The eyes definitely belonged to Caretakeer, but then, why were they in Whumper's kitchen?

"You aren't there anymore, Whumpee." Caretaker's hand moved to Whumpee's shoulder as he pulled them into a much-needed hug.

[wishchip106]

charles whenever someone thinks a bit too loudly about what he and magneto might be doing during after school hours

it’s “chess”

[moonstruckme]

hi love I like all ur fics!!! Ur most recent emt Maurader made me realize tho we don't always get to see Sirius being vulnerable so what about a fic where may be he's having an off day? Or runs into a cousin and they completely ignore him and he tries to act like it doesn't bother him and just reader comforting him and giving him space

Thank you for requesting angel!

cw: allusion to past abuse, discussion of toxic workplace dynamics

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius gets home from work early. You’re in the bedroom, stomach-down on the mattress with your book in front of you. You hear the front door open and come out to greet your boyfriend, but your smile falls when you see him. 

Sirius’ face is red. He doesn’t usually color when he’s upset, so you take it to mean something that he has now. He steps on the back of his shoe a couple of times before he manages to get it off, stomps on the back of the other even more harshly. You think he might be shaking. 

“Sirius?” 

He flinches. Turning around, his expression twinges with some mix of emotions at seeing you, too muddled to parse apart. He seals them all away quickly. 

You take a step towards him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” It comes out hoarse. Sirius clears his throat. “Yeah. Just a shit day at work.” 

“You’re home early,” you note. 

Sirius nods curtly. You think maybe that’s that, but his expression is conflicted. 

“Do you wanna sit down?” you ask gently, going to the couch and hoping he’ll follow. He does. It’s a challenge not to reach for his hand, to pull him closer or offer some kind touch, but the stiffness about Sirius’ frame hints that it may not be well received right now. 

When he’s still silent after a moment, you say, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I could make tea and we could just relax.” 

Sirius shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says, tersely, like he might be trying to convince himself more than you. “I think I’m probably going to be fired, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows go up. 

“I…you know how I got a new boss a few weeks ago?” 

You nod mutely. 

“Right, well, she’s got a temper. At least a couple times a week I’ll hear her shouting at someone in her office and she’s already managed to fire from almost every team.” Your dread mounts as Sirius goes on, speaking faster now that he’s on a roll. “She called me in after lunch. I fucked up something in a report—I hadn’t checked it and it had gotten sent out with the error—and she was pissed. She screamed at me—really screamed, stood up and got red in the face and all that—for probably ten minutes before she sent me back to my desk. And I just came home.” Sirius lets out a dry chuckle. “If she doesn’t fire me, I might quit.” 

“You should, baby.” Your voice pitches with dismay, hurt and outrage for him warring inside you. You take a chance and reach for his hand. Sirius fits his fingers between yours instinctively, something seeming to loosen in him at the touch. “I can’t believe she really shouted at you. No one deserves that, least of all for a silly error in a report. She should be fired for that.” 

Sirius gives you a little smile, but it dissolves at the edges, watery. A cavity opens in your chest as his eyes grow shiny. 

“Baby.” 

He shakes his head, jaw clenched. Blinking. “Sorry,” he says roughly. “I never used to do this.” You feel your face pinch with sympathy. He means cry, you know. Sirius as an adult is more emotional than he was as a child, but you still rarely see him cry. “She just—she sounded just like my mother.” 

Realization comes like a blow to your middle. “Oh, my love,” you say breathlessly, moving to put your arms around him. 

Sirius usually hugs with his whole being. He throws himself into it, with force and purpose and his own rough brand of caring. So you’re used to letting him take the lead, but now, when his arms come around you hesitantly, you’re the one who applies the pressure. And Sirius melts against you. 

You cup the back of his neck in one hand and squeeze between his shoulders with the other, imagining your love pouring out of you and into him through your palms. Sirius is quiet, but you feel a couple of hot tears transfer from his chin to your shirt. You worry he’s holding his breath. 

“Sirius.” You say his name with all the tenderness you can summon, afraid of him hearing echoes of his mother’s voice. “I’m so sorry, lovely. You never, ever deserve to be shouted at that way.” 

“Even if I told you I left your favorite mug at my office?” he jokes weakly. 

You let him go. There aren’t many tears to brush off his cheeks, and you make short work of them, soothing your thumbs over his face just for the sake of it. Surprisingly, his complexion is less agitated than it had been when he’d come in. He was holding it in, you realize. 

“Don’t ever let me speak to you like that,” you say.

Sirius’ expression sobers. “You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.” 

“Really. Leave me if I talk to you like that, I’m serious.” 

“No, that’s me.” 

One side of your mouth tips up without your consent. “Bad joke.” 

Sirius mirrors you, grinning halfheartedly. “You think you’d have learned to evade it by now.” 

You gather that he wants things to be light now. That’s okay. You know Sirius has a difficult time with the truly heavy emotions—anger is an instinct for him, but tears and sorrow he’s never known what to do with. You’ll talk about it more over time, in bits and pieces where he’s comfortable. And just because you’re letting it go now doesn’t mean you’re done coddling him. 

You let your hands coast down from his face to either side of his neck, massaging gently the tension in his shoulders. “Did you really bring my favorite mug to work?” 

Sirius’ smile goes a tad sheepish. “Yes?” 

“Why would you do that?” 

“Because it makes me think of my most favorite sweetheart when I get coffee from the break room,” he says, smarmy. “Also, it was the first one I saw when I went to grab one from our cabinet.” 

You smile at him. Sirius pretends at facetiousness, but you know the first reason had been the genuine one. 

“What,” he asks, “you didn’t notice it was missing?” 

“No, I did. I only thought you’d broken it.” 

“And you weren’t going to say anything?” 

“What’d be the point?” 

A soft, intimate look comes over Sirius’ face. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, gray eyes raw and quiet, “do I?” 

You match his tone. “Of course you do, lovely. You deserve better than me, it’s just I’m what you’ve got.” 

“Mm, there’s another way you’re not allowed to speak.” He wraps his arms around you, pressing a heavy-fond kiss to your hairline. “I won’t have any of that talk.” 

“I’ll trade you that for the jokes about your name.” 

“No, I don’t think so. You’re going to have to work a little harder, doll, I’m not giving those up so easily.”

[luvbug724]

here’s the thing about thea calling it jeans “old tricks.” we’re given more than ample clues to fill in the blanks. jean refused to let anyone else in the nest know he was raped. he and kevin painstakingly covered up after riko because they were too proud to let anyone in on the abuse they faced. thea has no reason to suspect assault— ive said it before, but there’s no crime unless jean speaks up.

i see the claim that jeremy knew it was statutory rape so thea should have, but jeremy is in california, from california, born & raised. the age of consent is 18, as opposed to 16 in west virginia. jeremy is operating under a different legal framework. but look at the scene as a whole: it’s not important that jeremy believes it was statutory rape, because that accusation leads to jeans revelation that he never consented. it may not have been statutory under west virginia law, but it was rape. thea and jean have never had that conversation, and if jean has it his way they never will.

thea looks at jean and she has no reason to see a victim, but every reason to see a teenager she cares about making bad decisions that hurt him. jean himself tells her they were just mistakes. that’s how her “old tricks” sentence comes across. she’s tired. it sets her apart from the rest of the ravens— that’s far more compassion than any of the current line up gave him.

[kateksmallcuteowl]

Day 22/26: "Vulnerable"

/Mitski plays on the background/

[lululocomo]

After seeing the Xiaotian abduction post, my brain came up with a strange but in a way funny scenario.

Tripitaka is abducted again, but the pilgrims cannot cope with the Demon Lord, so Wukong leaves to ask for help from Heaven. Before that, he asks his pilgrim brothers to look after his cub. Xiaotian is a little tired of being constantly taken care of, and therefore, in the absence of Wukong, persuades the others to come up with a plan with him to save the monk. Or he'll just quietly run away from them.

And of course, the plan is ingeniously stupid. Xiaotian goes to the Demon Lord's lair and, provoking him, pretends to be defeated and allows him to be captured. Once inside, Xiaotian avoids the guards like a shadow and searches for the Tripitaka. But unfortunately, the Demon Lord's child gets caught. Xiaotian accidentally charms a young demon and he helps to find Tripitaka and free him... But he doesn't let Xiaotian leave.

And now the gods and pilgrims have to restrain Wukong from destroying and killing everything and everyone around him because the demon's offspring wants to make Xiaotian his mate.

And Xiaotian doesn't even understand what's really going on because of his poor knowledge of demonic customs. He just thinks that the young demon is obsessively friendly and out of politeness is waiting for his dad to pick him up.

Omg I love the idea dfgdf Wukong trust MK to protect the pilgrims but never expected for him to go on a rescue mission on his own- Poor MK who have no idea what's going on and just want to leave but can't 😭

Wukong would managed to free MK from this situation without killing anyone (but not without damaged ) and scolded Xiaotian for doing this plan without telling him first dfgdf and they both agree to not tell Macaque about it 😌

[cobaltfluff]

to care for an alley cat :3c

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Ngl I feel like he'd be a bit disappointed if he was so easily forgiven

[renonv]

I come back just to give you a mildly horny thing

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumpee knew the caretaker wanted to help them, and deep inside they knew the caretaker wouldn’t hurt them- but the whumpee was still so afraid. The whumpee’s mind kept sending false alarms, kept making the whumpee paranoid about anyone that got too close, and it isolated the whumpee.

[moonstruckme]

James Potter or tasm!peter parker fluff or comfort?? I dont mind whatever you write ill love 🙏🙏

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: implied past abuse

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Peter’s having a rough week. These things always seem to happen to him. He’s got a big presentation at work on Friday, by which time the project he’s been underfunded and understaffed for has to be finished. His Aunt May has been busy with work, too, so either you or Peter is at her place most nights trying to help out, except she seems to think when it’s Peter it’s familial responsibility but when it’s you it's an unfair burden, so it’s mostly been Peter. There’s also an impressively organized cell of criminals he’s been trying to investigate before they blow up a bank or something. So of course, he’s sleep deprived to boot. 

And while you know the rough edge of frustration in his voice isn’t meant for you, hearing it makes your skin tighten nonetheless. 

“How does a person run out of salt?” Peter stalks through the front door and straight into the kitchen. “Or maybe the better question is, why does it take going to three bodegas to find one with salt in stock?”  

He’s soaked from the rain, and you feel guilty for being all cozied up on the couch while he’s been running around the city. Maybe it’s irrational, but you feel sort of like you should have been stressed out and cold all night, too. In solidarity. 

“May didn’t have salt?” you guess as Peter opens the fridge, stooping low to peer inside. 

“You should see her pantry, babe. It’s like everything either expired at the turn of the century or got bugs in it. Hey, did you make anything for dinner?” 

“No.” You hesitate. “You told me you wanted to eat at May’s, so I had the leftovers from last night.” 

“Shit.” He closes the fridge, resting his forehead on the door. “You’re right. I totally forgot, I only made enough for her.” 

“I’ll make something now.” You stand. Peter gives you a look that conveys both apology and gratitude as you join him in your small kitchen. “You feel like pasta?” 

“Thank you,” he says, kissing the top of your head lightly. 

“Course,” you murmur. Really, it feels like the least you can do. “Would you mind chopping up some basil?” 

“For my own dinner?” Peter teases. The levity in his voice is obviously forced, and the air between you heavies as he realizes you’ve heard it too. 

You almost don’t want to ask, but you do want to be a supportive girlfriend. You can lend him a compassionate ear. “How was work today?” 

He sighs, grabbing the cutting board from a cabinet near your feet and shutting the door with perhaps a tad too much force. 

“It was…ahh.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, stooping again into the white fridge light to find the basil. It casts dark shadows underneath his eyes. “You’ve gotta be sick of hearing about this.” 

“It’s okay. Unless you don’t feel like talking about it.” 

“No, it’s just, how do they expect us to stick to their tight schedule when half of my lab is being pulled away to other projects all the time?” Peter’s knife slices through the basil, hitting the cutting board with a sharp thunk. “Today, we were down one intern who caught the stomach flu, and it set us way back. One intern shouldn’t be that crucial to a big project like this!” 

You hum, ignoring the way the back of your neck prickles. The tension emanating from Peter is completely valid, your reaction a bothersome, purposeless souvenir from an old life. You find yourself staring into the pot of water and waiting for it to boil. 

“And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but all the rest of us are working extra hours to try and get this done in time.” 

Small bubbles in the bottom of the pot, rising tentatively to the surface. Peter’s knife thunks a quickening rhythm on the cutting board. 

“If they’d given us the money we asked for, we could have hired more people, been working with better equipment, but instead—” The water starts to rumble, steam warming your face. It’s thick in your throat. “—it’s like we don’t even work for a top-notch lab. Like, do they think we really believe they don’t have any resources to spare?”

Peter’s voice is rising, irritation sharpening his words. You reach to turn down the stove when big bubbles reach the surface, splattering hot onto your wrist. You ignore the sting. 

“My boss keeps talking about how important this presentation is,” Peter goes on, opening the cabinet next to your head and reaching inside, “but if it were really important, he’d have—” He slams the cabinet door. 

You both freeze. 

To anyone else, it would look like nothing—the way your expression stays perfectly still, your muscles stiffening just slightly, the invisible pause in your heartbeat. But Peter knows you. 

“Sorry.” He sounds as breathless as you feel. “I’m sorry. You okay?” 

“Mhm.” Despite your best intentions, your voice comes out pitchy. You can’t make yourself move in a way that feels natural, so you stay not moving at all. Steam wafting warm up onto your face. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Peter says, tone softer than you’ve heard it in days. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to yell.” The roiling pot has calmed to a gurgle. You can see him swallow in your peripheral vision. “Can you look at me?” 

You take in what you hope is a subtle breath, turning to your boyfriend with a wan smile. “Sorry,” you manage. “I don’t know why I did that.” 

“It’s okay,” he says, brows bunched in the middle. Brown eyes like a puppy’s. 

He shifts his arms, a question, and you step into them. You do it more for him than for you, but the second Peter’s arms wrap around your back the last of the tension shudders out of you. You hug him back, rubbing between his shoulder blades reassuringly. 

“I scared you?” he asks, still in that soft voice like he’s afraid of startling you. It’s not really a question. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get so mad.” 

“You’re allowed to be mad,” you argue weakly. There’s an embarrassing blockage in your throat. “It’s not your fault if I freak out, you should still be allowed to vent.” 

“No, but I know how you are.” Peter squeezes your shoulders. “I can vent without slamming things. It’s not nice.” 

You don’t have much of an argument for that. Still, “You really shouldn’t be the one comforting me right now,” you point out. 

A light hum. “Says who? I’m feeling a lot better already.” His hand climbs up to cup the back of your neck, his face turning down so his lips rest on your head. “Should’a just gone straight for the hug when I got home. Might have saved us both a lot of ranting.” 

You push your face into his sweatshirt, mindless of its dampness. He smells like rainwater. You don’t know how you could ever have thought, even for a second, that someone like this could be capable of hurting you. 

“I’ll make a note of that,” you murmur. 

“Yeah, please do,” Peter teases, pressing a kiss to your head. He pulls away and sets two still-chilled hands on your face. “Are you really okay?” he asks sincerely. “I know how scared you get, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I did that to you.” 

“You didn’t mean to,” you tell him, “and it wouldn’t be your fault anyways. I’m really okay.” 

Your boyfriend nods, but he still looks troubled. “Another hug for good measure?” 

“For you or for me?” 

A corner of his mouth kicks up. “Does it matter?” 

It doesn’t really.