#has he ever talked about this movie? need to know this

[lizzieolseniskinda]

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 6

SDE MASTERLIST - FEM!reader (POC!reader)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: 4845

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: talks about blood & nightmares (nothing too graphic!)soulmate & time travel au, english is not my first language

NOT proofread

to be added to taglist

As you slipped into your sleep, you found yourself wandering through memories—familiar, cherished memories—it all came flooding back, slipping into your mind like whispers and playing before your eyes like a movie. It was a bright, golden afternoon by the Black Lake at Hogwarts. You could see Ron, Harry and Hermione.

They were sitting on the grass on a picnic blanket you’d brought, laughing over something Ron had said, his face red with barely-contained laughter. Hermione was reading out loud from a book, clearly exasperated but smiling, and Harry was watching them both with that look. A look that he always had when he was at ease, a rare smile.

Harry’s glasses are slipping down his nose as he squints against the sun, his hair as messy as ever. Ron stretched out lazily, one arm propped behind his head as he reaches for a pumpkin pasty with the other.

“It’s so good to see you,” you say softly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. You felt a pang of longing, realizing how much you miss this easy, familiar closeness.

“Oh, you’re stuck with us, don’t worry,” Harry says with a grin, his green eyes bright and reassuring. “We’d never leave you.”

“Absolutely,” Hermione adds, nodding earnestly and closing the book on her lap. “Besides, who else would help us figure out all these mysteries? You’re as much a part of this as we are.”

Ron chuckles, taking a big bite of his pasty. “Not to mention, someone has to be there to keep you two from overthinking everything. Imagine the chaos if it was just the three of us.”

You laugh, feeling a warmth in your chest.

“You know,” you say, glancing at the lake where the water shimmers in the sunlight, “I wish we could stay like this forever. Just… having a picnic, no worries about anything else.”

Hermione reaches over and gives your hand a squeeze. “We’re here, whenever you need us. Even when things get difficult, remember that.”

Harry nods, his expression softening. “Don’t let anything make you doubt that. We’re always with you.”

You felt a rush of warmth and nostalgia hit you, drawn into the comfort of those days you had spent with your friends. You could hear their voices as clear as day. Their laughter mingling with the soft rustle of leaves and the gentle breeze. It felt safe, like nothing could touch or hurt any of you, like the years hadn’t drawn you apart.

But as the warmth of the dream lingers, something shifts. Colours started to fade, darkening the sky. The warmth of the sky dissipating into a cold shadow. The laughter thinned into silence, Hermione’s face contorting in worry as she looked toward the darkening horizon. You reached for your wand, only to find nothing. You looked up towards your friends.

One by one, they started to fade—Ron’s freckles dimming into the darkness, Hermione’s eyes lost the fear as her face became indistinct, until only Harry remains. He’s staring at you, dead in your eyes, his expression haunted, as though he knows something you don’t.

The familiar faces of your friends became twisted, their eyes wide and hollow, black, staring past you, as if you weren’t even there.

“You've never been alone in this.”

You turned your head towards the sound of Harry’s voice from behind you. Suddenly, you’re no longer sitting on the grass. The world around you seemed to shift and distort, like the walls of reality were bending in on themselves.

Instead, found yourself in the Great Hall, but it’s ruined, twisted. Broken. There’s rubble everywhere, and you’re alone with a figure moving slowly through the debris. You look down to find your wand in hand, trembling, but no matter how hard you try to call put, no sound leaves your lips.

The figure points behind you and unwillingly your head turns with the hand, behind you could see them, all of them, your friends—Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and the twins. They were standing at a distance, eyes empty and staring straight through you. They look lost, hollow, shadows of who they once were.

A faint dripping sound pulls your attention away from their faces. You glance down and notice a small puddle of blood pooling at Hermione’s feet. Your gaze shifts up to her arm, slick with blood, where something is scrawled in crimson against her arm.

Tears formed in your eyes and you looked away, towards Harry, the hollow in his eyes having a faint green look in his eyes. As soon as you noticed it, it left.

You tried to move toward them, but your feet felt glued to the spot. A wave of helplessness surged through you. The only thing you could do watch as figured emerged from the darkness, out of the walls—hooded, faceless shadows  that closed in around your friends. 

Distant screams echoing as they were dragged away, lost in the darkness.

Your heart pounds painfully, the sense of helplessness crushing you. A chill crawls down your spine, the cold seeping deep into your bones. Your breaths grow shallow, the weight of guilt pressing down like a heavy stone.

And then, in the depth of the moment, the figure approached you—a pair of cold, dark brown, calculating eyes fixed on you, a face shrouded in darkness but recognisable everywhere. Tom.

He’s looking at you, a small, chilling smile playing at his lips. His voice echoes, low and taunting. “They’re all gone because of you,” he said, voice soft yet sharp. “Because you couldn’t change a thing.”

Your breath hitches, and you stagger, trying to escape, to wake up, but his face looms even closer. His presence filled the void with even more darkness, casting shadows that seemed to cling to your skin, creeping up your spine like ice.

“Why are you even here?” his voice echoed, smooth and unfeeling, carrying a weight that felt like judgment. “Do you really think you can change anything?”

You woke up with a start, heart racing and gasping for air, the cold sweat clinging to your skin as the remnants of the nightmare cling to your mind. You sit up, images of twisted faces and dark shadows still burning behind your eyelids.

You sat up, wiping at your face with shaky hands, only to realise they were wet—tears had already started to flow, now completely blurring your vision. You wiped them away with a shaky hand, but they just kept coming, as though all the fear, all the frustration, all the loneliness you’d been bottling up had burst free. 

Looking around the empty dorm room, you realized it was Sunday morning. Your roommates had already left for breakfast, leaving you in a silent room that suddenly felt too big, too cold.

With your chest tightening, you stumbled out of bed, grabbing a sweater and tugging it on over your head, fingers fumbling with the sleeves. You barely took the time to slip on shoes, leaving them unlaced as you hurried out of the dormitory. Your hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and the cold, early-morning stone floors of the castle did little to calm you as you rushed through the corridors, your footsteps echoing in the silence.

Your breath came in shallow gasps as you navigated the winding halls, your mind locked on one single thought: Dumbledore. he had to send you back. you couldn’t take it anymore. 

It wasn’t long before you reached the familiar stretch of hall leading to professor dumbledore’s office. 

The portraits along the walls watched you as you rushed past, whispering among themselves. You climbed staircase after staircase, fueled by a mixture of fear and anger, until finally you stood in front of the stone gargoyle guarding dumbledore’s office.

“Let me in,” you whispered hoarsely, still crying, your voice cracking. When the gargoyle didn’t move, you let out a strangled yell, slamming your fists against the cold stone. “let me in! please!”

As if in response to your desperation, the stone gargoyle slowly shifted aside, revealing the spiral staircase. You scrambled up, each step feeling like it took forever, until finally you burst into his office. He was seated behind his desk, calmly looking over a stack of papers, but he looked up immediately when you stormed in, concern flickering in his eyes.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he said gently, closing the door behind you. “What brings you here so early?”

“Professor,” you choked out, standing in the middle of the room, your body trembling as the flood of emotions poured out, “Send me back. Please, send me back. I don’t want to be here anymore, I… I can’t do this.”

You swallowed, the words coming out in a shaky rush. “I can’t… I can’t stay here. I want to go back. please, I need to go back to my time. I miss my friends, my parents… everyone. i can’t do—” 

The weight of everything came crashing down as you spoke, your voice trembling. “Please, professor, I don’t belong here… I want to go home.” your voice broke, and a sob escaped you. you covered your mouth with one hand, the tears coming faster now, blurring your vision completely.

dumbledore’s eyes were full of understanding as he stepped closer, guiding you gently to a chair. “take a seat, my dear,” he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring. “i know this must feel unbearably difficult.”

“No, you don’t understand!” you interrupted, your voice coming out in a broken yell. “I don’t want to sit down! I want to go back!”

“I don’t belong here! every day, every second i’m here, it feels like… like i’m suffocating. i miss my friends, i miss my family, and i can’t…just pretend everything is okay. it’s not fair! you brought me here, and now i’m stuck. i never even had a choice!”

Tears were streaming freely down your face, your fists clenched so tightly your nails dug into your palms. Dumbledore took a step toward you, but you took a step back, shaking your head.

You sank into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself as you tried to catch your breath, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “It’s too much,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I feel so alone… everything here is different, and I don’t know how long I can pretend I’m alright with it.”

he took a seat beside you, his expression pained but kind. “Your feelings are entirely valid, and your courage to speak up about them is admirable.” he paused, studying your tear-streaked face with that same intense, searching look he often wore. “Being out of one’s own time is a very heavy burden to bear. You have been given a task that no one should be asked to bear alone.”

“Don’t tell me to be brave, don’t tell me this is for some greater purpose!” you shouted, voice breaking. “I don’t care about the greater purpose! I want to go home! I don’t want to be here, living in constant fear, watching every move I make. you don’t understand what it’s like!” 

Your sobs overtook you, racking your whole body as you sank deeper into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself from falling apart. “I miss them so much. please… please, just send me back.”

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment, watching you with a sadness that only deepened the ache in your chest.

“If I could, child, I would,” he said softly, his voice filled with an unfamiliar heaviness. “But, you know why you’re here. There are things that must be done, paths that must be taken.”

“I do not say this lightly, and I do not expect you to forgive me for the burden I have placed on you. but the future depends on it.”

“I don’t care about the future right now!” you yelled, the anger burning bright through the fear and pain. “I care about now! I care about my life and my friends and my family.”

“Why should I have to give all that up? I didn’t ask for any of this! I lost my life—freedom for you!”

Dumbledore nodded slowly, as if weighing each of your words. “Sometimes, life asks of us sacrifices we would never choose,” he said quietly. “I am deeply sorry for that. But know this—you are not alone, and you do have the strength to face what lies ahead.”

He stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “And strength, my dear, does not mean the absence of pain or fear. Strength is simply the willingness to keep moving forward, even when it feels impossible.”

You stared at the floor, the weight of his words pressing down on you. a part of you wanted to believe him, but another part just felt… tired. bone-deep tired.

“I don’t even know if I-I’m doing it right,” you managed to whisper, your fingers gripping the edge of your sweater tightly. “What if… what if nothing changes? What if Harry still… still dies?” 

“I understand your fears,” he said softly, “But I am here to help guide you. And while I cannot give you a clear answer about the future, I can tell you that your presence here has already changed things, even if it may not be obvious.”

You wanted to believe him, but the doubts gnawed at you. “I feel like I’m losing myself, professor. every day, it feels harder to remember who I am, or who I used to be.”

“Your identity is not lost, even if you feel disconnected from it,” he replied, his voice warm and steady. “It is within you, no matter what time you find yourself in.”

You looked down, sniffling, trying to draw strength from his words. “It’s just… Everyone feels so far away.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes soft with compassion. “You are allowed to feel this way. It is human, after all, to yearn for those we love.”

After a few moments of silence, he added, “If you truly wish to return, I can explore the possibility of sending you back to your time. However, I would ask you to take a little time to think it over first. Sometimes, in the midst of hardship, we cannot see the strength that lies within us until the storm has passed.”

You took a shaky breath, nodding, though the ache in your heart still lingered.

He offered you a reassuring smile. “Whenever you need to speak, my door is always open.”

The gentle waves of the black lake lapped at the shore, the water shimmering under the soft morning light. You sat by the edge, hugging your knees to your chest, staring out across the lake as memories of Harry, hermione, and Ron surfaced, vivid and sharp. The ache in your chest felt endless, like a hollow, sinking weight that refused to leave. 

The spot felt haunted now, a cruel reminder of everything you’d left behind—the laughter, the closeness, the feeling of home that was slipping further from your reach with each passing day. You felt yourself fraying at the edges, unraveling beneath the surface of your forced smiles and brave face.

You barely registered the sound of footsteps approaching until someone sat down beside you. Turning your head, you found Lucas, his usual easygoing grin replaced by a look of gentle concern.

“Hey,” he said softly, nudging you with his elbow. “you look like you've got the weight of the entire library on your shoulders. what's going on?”

You tried to respond, to tell him it was nothing, but the words caught in your throat. The mere kindness in his voice, the familiarity of it, broke something in you. All at once, the tears started to flow, again, hot and unstoppable, and you buried your face in your hands.

Lucas’s arm immediately wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close. He didn’t say anything, didn’t press you for answers. He just held you there, letting you sob against him, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “Cry all you need to. I’ll even throw in a free shoulder to soak.”

You let out a choked laugh through the tears, but the laughter quickly turned back into sobs. You clutched onto him tightly, as if he could anchor you back from the overwhelming tide of pain and loneliness that threatened to swallow you whole.

“I… I’m sorry, I’m a mess today.,” you managed to say between sobs, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I miss my friends so much, Lucas.”

He nodded, squeezing you gently. “I know, I know. That’s got to be the hardest part of all this—being here, away from everyone. But you’re not alone, okay? i’m right here, and i’ll stay here as long as you need me to.”

“Besides, we can always send them letters, they’re only in France.”

You stayed there, clutching onto his warmth, letting his words settle over you like a balm. ‘Only in France’

You swallowed fresh tears. 

After a few moments, he leaned his head closer, his voice soft but with a familiar mischievous edge. “Besides, who else would put up with me if you weren’t here?”

You sniffled, managing a small, wobbly smile. “Probably, like, everyone. you’re everyone’s favorite flirt, Lucas.”

He grinned, and there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, that’s true. But nobody gets my best material like you do. I save all the good jokes just for you, y’know?”

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, insults aside, at least I got you to laugh. My work here is almost done.”

You smiled a little, feeling a bit of the heaviness lift, if only for a moment. Lucas’ arm stayed around your shoulders, solid and steady, like a lifeline you hadn’t realized you needed so badly.

“You’ve got a lot on your shoulders,” he said, his voice turning gentle again. “And I know it feels impossible, but you’re stronger than you think, Y/n. and I’ll be here every step of the way, even if you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”

You let out a long, shaky breath, feeling the warmth of his reassurance settle over you. It wasn’t home, it wasn’t Harry, Hermione, or Ron, but Lucas was here, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. And for now, it was enough.

“Thank you, Lucas,” you whispered, your voice thick with gratitude. 

He gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime. I mean it. Anytime you need a shoulder to cry on, or someone to charm the socks off the Slytherins just for fun, I’m your guy.”

You laughed again, and this time, it felt genuine. Lucas gave you a smile that was soft and warm, and as you sat by the lake together, you felt, for the first time in a long time, that you might be able to make it through this—one small step at a time.

Lucas nudged you with his shoulder as he reached for a bowl of mashed potatoes. “Alright, Y/n, here’s a question: if you could switch places with anyone in the entire wizarding world right now, who would it be?”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. “Easy—someone on holiday. preferably somewhere sunny.”

Alicia laughed, tossing a piece of bread at you. “That’s cheating! I thought you’d say someone exciting, like an auror or the minister of magic.”

“Can’t blame her,” Lilith chimed in, grinning. 

“A tropical holiday sounds pretty thrilling after being stuck in potions all morning.” Maeve nodded her head, agreeing.

“You’ve got a point,” Lucas said thoughtfully, grinning at you. “Although, if I could switch with anyone, I’d probably pick Slughorn. Imagine all the secrets he must know, all those weird stories about famous people.”

“And you’d get to throw endless parties for yourself,” Lilith pointed out, a rare smile tugging at her lips. 

Maeve smiled, “it would be the ultimate ego trip.”

Everyone laughed, and Lucas shrugged, clearly not bothered. “Hey, the guy knows how to live. He’s probably got more gossip than all of us combined. Speaking of parties,” he added, raising an eyebrow at you, “Ready for the slug club soirée, miss Riddle’s date?”

You groaned, feeling your cheeks warm as the others turned to look at you with intrigued expressions.

“I still can’t believe he just… declared you his date and walked off,” Alicia said, shaking her head in disbelief. “You didn’t get a single word in?”

“Not one,” you admitted, laughing. “He just looked at me with that infuriatingly smug expression and then left.”

Lucas leaned in, smirking. “And you, Y/n, are seriously going along with it?”

“Well,” you said, rolling your eyes, “I mean, he’s kinda… hot.”

“So… yes, I guess I am.”

Alicia nearly choked on her pumpkin juice, eyes widening. “Hot? He’s terrifying, Y/n! Have you seen the way he just stares at people? It’s like he’s plotting their downfall.”

“Yeah,” Maeve added, shooting you a half-amused, half-bewildered look, “But I get it… he’s got that whole brooding dark lord-in-the-making vibe. still, I wouldn’t want to be within hexing range.”

You couldn’t help but laugh uneasy, brushing off their reactions. 

Lilith shoved some cauliflower onto her plate, “oh, come on, sure, he’s intense, but there’s something about him that’s… intriguing.”

Lucas, however, looked horrified. He leaned back, crossing his arms dramatically. “intriguing? no, no, Lili, intriguing is a new flavor of bertie bott’s beans or a strange ingredient in potions. Not Tom Riddle.”

Maeve nodded absentmindedly, “He does look like a good snack.”

Lucas gaped, “Sorry, what is wrong with you?”

Maeve shrugged her shoulders, “Don’t act as if you wouldn’t like a little nibble from him, even though you’re like—into girls and stuff.”

You straightened up, feeling Lucas tense beside you. So, you were the first person to know. Alicia also having noticed this, she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, lighten up, Lucas,” Alicia teased, nudging him. “I think we’re all just a little scared that she’s going to show up to the party in some hypnotic trance, spellbound by his ‘intensity.’”

Lucas rolled his eyes, pretending to be unimpressed, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine, if that’s what you want. But personally, I think he’s the human embodiment of a dark cloud, and I’d rather not be around for the thunderstorm.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” you replied with a grin. “It’s just one night. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Lucas gave you a long, exasperated look but then sighed, shaking his head with a reluctant smile. “I feel like you’ve just jinxed us."

“But, if it makes you happy, I suppose… but just remember, if he starts getting that ‘plotting world domination’ look, I’ll be there with a rescue plan.” 

You grinned, giving him a playful nudge. “I’ll keep an eye out for his ‘dark cloud’ side.”

Maeve leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. “And what are you wearing?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Lucas said proudly before you could respond. “We’re matching.”

The entire group burst into a chorus of excited gasps and laughter, peppering you with questions. Lilith just nodded approvingly.

“Trust Lucas to make sure you two are the best-dressed at the party,” she said, a hint of admiration in her tone.

“Hey, if she’s going to suffer through a night with Riddle, the least I can do is make sure she looks fantastic,” Lucas said, grinning. “We’re talking silk, elegance, mystery—the works.”

“I don’t know about suffering,” you said, shrugging, though a part of you felt slightly on edge about the party. Tom Riddle’s attention still felt unsettling, but you didn’t want to think about that now.

“Oh, come on, I bet he’s actually a terrible dancer,” Maeve said with a wink. “you might have to lead.”

“That would be hilarious,” Alicia added, snickering. “Just don’t let him step on your toes.”

Lucas laughed. “If he does, you have my permission to hex him right there in front of everyone.”

You couldn’t help but smile, comforted by the light-hearted teasing. As you looked around the table, a warmth settled over you, the tension from this morning melting away.

“If anything, I know you’ll be having a great time, Lucas,” you said, nudging him.

You stood up from the table, giving Lucas and the others a quick wave as you grabbed your bag. “I’m going to the library to study with Ben,” you said, smiling weakly. “I’ll see you later.”

Lucas shot you a mock-salute, his expression playfully suspicious as if to say,  ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ You grinned and waved him off, heading down the hall with the familiar comfort of your new friends’ laughter fading behind you.

The corridors were quiet, the muffled hum of the Great Hall lingering in the background as you made your way toward the library. You had only made it a few steps when, from the corner of your eye, you noticed someone falling into stride beside you. It was Tom.

He moved silently, his steps measured and smooth, his hands tucked into his robe pockets. You hadn’t even heard him approach, yet here he was, looking as composed and unreadable as ever. You tried not to tense, but the memory of his last intense gaze lingered. 

You didn’t look at him but raised an eyebrow anyway.

“You’re walking alone,” his voice came from just next to you, and you could almost feel his gaze on the side of your face. “I thought I might walk with you.”

“Y/n,” he said, voice calm but direct, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

You hummed in reply, wondering where this conversation was going to lead you this time.

 “I saw you by the Black Lake earlier.”

You kept your gaze forward, unsure where this was going. “…And?”

His tone was quieter than usual, though still carefully controlled. “You were …crying.”

The words struck you, not because they were untrue, but because you hadn’t realized anyone had seen. You felt your cheeks warm slightly, defensive instinct kicking in.

“Why do you care?” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “It’s hardly any of your business, Riddle.”

He looked at you, brow raised slightly. “It’s not,” he admitted. “But I’m asking.”

You glanced at him, his face composed but his eyes watchful, curious in a way that felt genuine, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything about him was calculated. Even so, he had a strange intensity about him that made it hard to dismiss him completely.

You stiffened, your fingers tightening around your bag strap. “I’m fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, your gaze fixed ahead. “It was nothing.”

“Nothing,” he repeated, almost sounding amused. “You’re lying.”

“If you must know, it’s because… I had a difficult time, with….something,” you kept your words vague, unwilling to open up fully but feeling oddly compelled to say something.

“Difficult?” Tom echoed, his voice betraying the faintest hint of curiosity. “You seem perfectly capable of handling yourself. What could possibly make you—” he paused, almost as if the word felt foreign to him, “—upset?”

You shrugged, keeping your tone guarded. “Being capable doesn’t make someone immune to, well… feeling lost, different? I don’t know. It’s not like everyone here is exactly friendly.”

He nodded, considering your words in silence as you turned the final corner toward the library. “You sound like a Hufflepuff.”

After a beat, he spoke again, his voice almost softer. “Perhaps.”

“It is just very odd to imagine someone like you feeling out of place.” He paused, his expression unreadable. “I wonder why that is.”

Something in his voice made you feel exposed, as though he was peeling back layers you hadn’t even known were there. You were confused how he spoke so, elegantly for someone so rough.

You looked away, shrugging. “Maybe because I’m just a girl, at the end of the day.”

You caught a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of interest in his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said slowly. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “I understand that feeling, you know. Not fitting in. It’s a powerful motivator.”

The words lingered between you, unspoken layers hidden in their simplicity, and before you could form a response, he glanced down the hallway.

“We’re nearly there,” he said, his tone shifting back to its usual detached calm. “Don’t forget, by the way—Slug Club party. You’re still my date.”

He gave you one last look, his eyes gleaming with an enigmatic intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Then, with the same silent precision, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone outside the library, a strange sense of unsettledness trailing in his wake.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something—some subtle, quiet thing—had shifted between the two of you because of that little conversation. And you weren’t sure whether it was unsettling or… strangely comforting. But you could feel it in your stomach.

A/N: sorry for late postinggg, hope you enjoyed it though!! also, I'm having problems with tagging, so i apologize if your tag didn't work :(

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[revelboo]

ARRRRRGHHH I love your sunstreaker and sideswipe stuff!!! Is this a series you’re going to be interested in continuing?

And you mentioned in the first fic that sideswipe consumed human media, so how aware are the autobots of humans sentience/sapience??

Oh, he knows humans are sentient. He just doesn’t care. For now, I’m pretty much passively continuing most of these. I need to write a part two for Cliffjumper, update IDW Megs, and the Lost Light stuff.

Can’t Finish What You Started Pt 6

IDW Sunstreaker x Reader, Sideswipe x Reader

• When Sunstreaker recharges, he returns to Kaon. Remembers the smell of rust, lubricant, and energon as he fights through the crowds of bigger bots. Getting jostled as he uses his body as a battering ram, a shield. Behind him, Sides clings to his hand, asking him to slow down. Not understanding that he can’t. They’re drawing too much attention again, but he’d wanted to stay in their current place just a bit longer. The abandoned building he’d found has several good exit routes, it’s harder for them to be pinned down. It’s safe, but once they start getting noticed, that safety falls away under his peds. Knows that if they are noticed, they’ll end up dragged into the mines by the enforcers. And knows what happens to the weak, the young there.

• The rasp of metal on metal has you lifting your head, tiredly watching Sunstreaker move around in his recharge and wondering if they dream. They must for him to restlessly shift like that. Almost like he’s gripped by a nightmare. Sideswipe had dropped you on Sunstreaker’s berth near his head and just left you. Watching the big, yellow Autobot’s head turn, a whisper of unease lifts through you. Because he might accidentally swat you off the berth, but also because whatever he’s fighting is taking a toll on him. You shouldn’t care, but it hurts your heart all the same. What do giant, alien robots have to fear? Standing, you approach him cautiously. Seeing a flash of his bared denta, as he vents slowly. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you sigh. This isn’t your problem, you’re being held against your will by him and his twin, but you still reach out and lay a hand against his jaw. And feeling like a complete fool, start humming the kidnapping jerk a lullaby.

• Venting sharply, he’s aware of a soft sound, of something warm against the side of his helm. It takes a moment to understand its Sideswipe’s pet leaning against him, humming softly. Like you’re trying to soothe him. Keeping his optics shuttered, he tries to shrug off the last vestiges of the dream. Hating the fear still tightly wrapped about his spark. That Sunstreaker is long gone, he’d had to grow up quickly, do things he’s not proud of to survive and, more importantly, ensure Sideswipe survived. It shouldn’t bother him anymore, but that soft humming eases the tension. And he tries to remember if anyone has ever tried to take care of him like this. Worried over him like you are even if he doesn’t need or want your pity. “Why aren’t you resting?”

• The soft question takes you by surprise and you fall silent. How long has he been awake? Listening to you humming to him like he’s a child needing comfort. Face flushing, you’re just glad he can’t see you where you’re sitting against him. “Do you guys dream?”

• “What kind of a question is that?” Growling under his breath, he huffs at the feel of you shifting against his helm. Hating that he doesn’t mind you there.

• Rolling your eyes as you wrap your arms around yourself, you resist the urge to rap against him with your knuckles, because there’s no telling how badly he’d take it. “I’m sorry, but you’re the giant, horror movie alien, how should I know if you dream.” When he just huffs, you glance up at the profile of his face. “Want to talk about it?”

• Primus, help him. “Not really.” What could you possibly understand about his life? About that fear he still wakes up with even after so much time has passed. Of being hungry and never knowing how long it’ll be before he can find enough energon for him and Sides. Always afraid. Always angry at how unfair it is. He doesn’t regret becoming an Autobot, doesn’t agree with how much to an extreme Megatron took his rebellion, but what he can never say out loud is that Megatron wasn’t wrong. The senate needed to be overthrown, that corruption running too deep to be cut out. What could you possibly understand about any of that?

Previous

[dr-spectre]

I think that it's now more important than ever to keep making art.

Whether it's some scribbles on a piece of a paper, paint on a canvas, typing out erotic fanfiction about two cephalopod women, i need you to keep going. OKAY?!

Keep going at your own pace. Don't feel like you have to "grind" to achieve success, you're probably young as hell, you don't need to become a masculine obsessed fucking nutjob that is so obsessed with "discipline" and all this bullshit. Sure "discipline" is cool but... That shit takes a LONG TIME to develop and it only comes with experimentation and see what you believe in and what you enjoy. Don't get.... heh...... heh heh..... BRAINWASHED!!! by women hating bald bastards online who wanna turn you into a fun hating robot that's all about "work work work." Fuck them.

You are a human with flesh, blood, bones, a heart and a brain. You are not a machine. Got it?

Anyways, in talks of art, i wanna give my own sort of help for my writer friends out there! I thought it would be fun and plus, there's too many damn writing tips out there that boil down to "you HAVE to do this thing, you HAVE to follow this structure" and i think that is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit that gives you more stress than needed. You know how many boring mid action movies come out that follow the hero's journey? The three act structure? The story circle? It is better to just make shit and learn what you could do for next time.

There are no rules, all of the "rules of storytelling" are just optional suggestions that you can either take or leave. Plus it seems like every fucking YouTuber has a different set of rules that conflict with each other anyways. However, I wanna share my own sort of "basic ass fundamentals of stories" that can fit into any story structure you want! I got these guidelines from the YouTube channel The Closer Look. I like their content, it's very insightful.

Here's Dr. Spectre's basic ass fundamentals for stories.

Characters. Simple, a story must have characters otherwise you are making something else that is not a story.

Progression. Is there a sense of progression? Does it feel like for every second of story it isn't stagnating or getting dull and boring? Does it feel like shit is happening and growing? If it feels boring to read for you, then it's gonna be boring for another person reading it. Progression could be plot based or character based and them growing as the story goes on. Doesn't matter which one, can be both or one. Good stories never feel like they are staying the same or spinning their wheels.

Delivery (Aka. Setup and payoff). Do you deliver on the promises in the story? And do you deliver them in a way where the audience after they finishing reading or watching, they felt like it was all worthwhile and they didn't waste time consuming your story.

Everything else? IT'S OPTIONAL!!! COMPLETLY OPTIONAL! YOU KNOW HOW MANY STORIES BREAK THE "RULES"?! Do not become reliant and dependent on these "rules" because it'll slow your development and discourage experimentation. Not every story is gonna fucking follow the Save The Cat format.

There is also the talk of theme and i will say this.

Theme is not "this story is about sex, drugs, greed." No. Theme is a message or argument, it is not a word, it is something you are trying to say via a story. People don't have to agree with the theme, but it must make people think about it. If your story is about sex, what is it trying to say about sex? That sex is a scary thing and that it's okay to feel scared and worried about your first time? What are you trying to say about greed? Etc. Etc.

I read through a Sonic comic recently that everyone loves called Scrapnik Island and guess what? I fucking love that comic too.

Scrapnik Island isn't truly about Sonic and Tails getting stuck on an island and Mecha Sonic is there and he becomes evil and does all this stuff. No, what it's ACTUALLY about is that your worth as a person isn't determined by successes and failures, Mecha Sonic feels like he is worthless and is a failure because he not only failed to kill Sonic, but also failed to help his friends on Scrapnik Island. However, Sonic snaps him out of that bullshit mindset and it's truly, truly wonderful stuff.

Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion isn't truly about Agent 8 being trapped in a facility and defeating an evil ai. It talks about racism and what does it talk about specifically? That it doesn't matter what someone looks like, as long as they are a good person that's all that matters. That life is varied and beautiful and it's worth protecting from those who wish to destroy it.

There's a reason why Agent 8 takes the time to soak in the fresh air and sunlight near the end of Octo Expansion, why Eight has memcakes to collect and we see their thoughts and wishes. it's there to explore that theme, that idea of what the story is truly about.

Splatoon as a franchise is about how wonderful creativity itself is, that art and life are connected and grow together and are important and deserved to be protected. Commander Tartar, Mr. Grizz and Overlorder are all opposed to that idea and that's why they are the antagonists. DJ Octavio less so because he is trying to save his own culture and art, even as to go far as manipulating a mentally ill Callie who was already growing distain and tiredness from her own culture, so it just so happens that these two chaotic forces share the same ideology.

Now, I wanna say, do you NEED a theme to make a story? No. BUT! If you don't have something to say and that connective tissue, then it's gonna weaken everything else and the action, plot and characters have to be fucking top notch. The "Rule of Cool" only works when... you know.... it's cool? And well done?

Anyways, I've rambled long enough. Please keep making art, please? Especially now considering what has happened. I need you to hold onto hope, hold onto creativity and fun. You must. You have to...

Be good people.

[esggs]

Accurate!Gojo Satoru has been trying his level hardest the past half an hour and yet–and yet– he just cannot get it up.

Pretty dress, gorgeous. Can I take a closer look? Dashing man, albino hair and teeth stained red, black, green, blue under the club lighting. Angelic. Preferably back at my place? 

“You’ll have a good time, my ass.” Gojo imagines you mocking him in your head. Deservedly, he’ll grant, he did talk up a big game, all the teasing and squeezing and grinding and kissing up until he actually had to perform. 

“Should I go down on you again? That seemed to help.” Your smile makes his face burn even more. So sweet, so genuinely helpful. 

“Yeah…” 

Your hair brushes his thighs as you lean down to softly thumb down his foreskin off the tip, pressing kisses to his length and baby-licks against the slit. It feels really fucking good; Gojo can’t help groaning at the first contact, it’s just– 

What? What is it? You’re dripping sex on legs, hotter than he deserves– the cowlick at your nape, the blush on your cleavage, the juicy fat of your thighs, your drooping eyes, you get him choking on his breath. His Six Eyes tell him it’s safe, you have no hidden weapons nor ill-intentions to kill him the second he lets all his Infinity down (let’s be honest, you couldn't either way). Nor is there a sniper on a roof waiting to shoot him through the window. No recording devices, no bombs planted in this hastily-rented hotel room (not that he can stop checking every 5 minutes). So what is it?

“I’m sorry.” You abandon your efforts for a moment, looking up with those kohl-rimmed eyes. “It’s really not you, you’re gorgeous and I mean it, it’s just–” There’s no trace of the cocky playboy you assumed he was back at the club. He’s stuttering for God’s sake. “I– I just can’t relax.” 

“Ah!” It’s clearly not something you’ve ever faced before. Obviously not, man, look at her. “Um, do you want a smoke… or, uh–”

“No, sorry, I don’t smoke. Or drink. My job’s kinda hectic, so I need to be on call 24/7, always prepared, you know?” Not a lie per se. It’s just difficult to bring up that you’re the strongest jujutsu sorcerer on the planet when your disappointed one night stand doesn’t even know about jujutsu in the first place.  

“This is a first.” You cock your head at him, still smiling. “Never met anyone so high-strung they can’t even get hard, let alone smoke.”

It’s normal behaviour for 20 year old young men, especially the rich and the handsome ones such as he, to go to the club, party, pick up chicks, have wild sex, walk of shame the next morning. He’s seen it in movies. He’s heard his peers share their experiences. Just one night of normal, he’d told himself, then back to being Gojo Satoru. 

Mr. Gojo Satoru’s foray into normal human behaviours has been officially an embarrassing flop. 

“I can pay for the Uber.” There’s no saving the situation. His dick– no, penis, he decides, it doesn’t deserve an honourable name anymore. His penis doesn’t look like it'll rise to the occasion any time soon, so the best he can do is be a damn gentleman. For the sake of his manly ego, he’ll cleanse his memory of this shameful encounter. “Sorry about this.”

Maybe he should start preparing for his lessons the next day. He’s gonna teach barrier techniques. 

“Kicking me out so soon?” You joke, even though you’re already picking your bra off the floor. Not your first rodeo. “How rude of you, cute Satoru-chan.”

He giggles. “Unless you want to stay? We can Netflix and chill, literally.” Is this normal human behaviour? Looking at your smile, he realises that he doesn’t give a shit. 

“I want popcorn, extra butter.” “Okie, madam!” 

a/n: election results so bad had to write gojo being a moshi moshi schoolgirl with ed just to feel something.

[mc-lukanette]

Luka was still a child, far too young to worry about much of anything, yet he worried anyway because Marinette seemed worried. While she still engaged with him during their usual playtime and listened eagerly when he showed her the new toy he'd gotten, she felt distant and was more quiet than usual. It was a problem, not only because she was his friend and he cared, but he liked hearing her talk and ramble to him.

She wasn't doing any of that while she was so distracted.

He didn't ask about it - Juleka had told him once that girls were allowed to have their secrets, and he didn't know if this might be one of them - so he tried to find other things for them to do, hoping it might interest her more. They took a break to eat, went for a walk around the Liberty to see if the flowers needed watering, then searched for something to watch together.

He was starting to lose hope that he could cheer her up when she suddenly spoke partway through their movie search.

"Magic's not real."

He looked, seeing her hunched over with a movie in her hands. Not knowing why she'd say such a thing, he asked in reply, "Why?"

She pouted, fidgeting with the movie as she explained, "I had to write stuff for school about the story of someone we look up to. I was gonna do the tooth fairy, because Santa has a hard job too but the tooth fairy's tiny and works all year."

He nodded along silently to her story, agreeing with the logic. "Then what?"

"I wanted to know where they got all the money for kids' teeth, like a job, so I sneaked onto the computer when no one was around and..." She let out a groan, slumping and falling back onto the floor. "They're not real."

It was a shock to him too, though Marinette had been through it first without any support, so he can't imagine how it was for her. "But magic can still be real, right? Just not the tooth fairy."

"Santa's not real either!" she shouted to the empty space in the room.

Luka slowly realized how much she'd kept inside the whole time.

"I just wanted to give him the cookies I made last Christmas," she said, rubbing her face tiredly, "but then I caught Papa dressed up like Santa!"

"How'd you know it was him?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

"It's Papa! No one else looks like him."

That was fair.

"I thought maybe Santa was sick from the North Pole cold and sent Papa clothes so no one knew, but... the clothes were so cheap!" She threw her hands up, nearly sending the movie across the room in the process. "They just did it to trick me if I tried to meet 'Santa'!"

Marinette knew her fashion, so he believed her. He imagined that she'd let the Santa clothes go for all that time and it was only after yet another disappointment with the tooth fairy that she gave in.

For his own part, Luka had believed in Santa, but not that he was the one delivering gifts. According to his mom, Santa abandoned his wife, leaving her to do all the gifting, and she'd "throw him overboard" if he ever came back. He'd always wondered why the other kids told different versions, but if it was just a story, then it made sense.

A sympathetic, "Oh," was all he could say. It wasn't easy for him to grasp that magic wasn't real as, while he'd never seen people fly or cast spells, he always thought it was pretty magical that he and Marinette met and became best friends.

"And if magic's not real, fairytales aren't too," Marinette concluded, gently tossing the movie aside.

It landed in front of Luka and he finally got to see what she'd been holding that started all this: a typical princess movie with a prince, a fairy godmother, and a witch-y villainess. He frowned, picking it up and turning it around to look at the back as well.

He trusted Marinette, so it must've been true that magic and fairytales weren't real. He was torn, because while it was sad that he wouldn't be seeing "real" magic in his life, it was weirdly comforting that life didn't work out the way it did in fairytales.

He'd always thought that Marinette was cute enough to be a princess, or at least the girls in the movies who became princesses. At the same time, the only boys the princesses and those girls tended to be around were princes, and Luka wasn't a prince; he wasn't even close. He wasn't rich, he wasn't royalty, he couldn't do a ballroom dance, and he hadn't defeated any evil dragons.

But if fairytales weren't real, then he could stay with her. That was one good thing.

Marinette sat up, defeated, but not enough to ignore fixing her bangs and checking the tightness of the hairties holding her pigtails in place. Luka blinked, briefly distracted by the trail of freckles underneath her sad, half-lidded eyes.

He was sure they hadn't done any art or crafts that day, but she must've before she'd gotten there, as her freckles were sparkling like they'd gotten glitter onto them. His nose scrunched in thought, wondering how he could've missed that when she'd gotten there.

"I wanted to be the knitting fairy when I grew up. I wanted to make clothes for everyone that was super comfy and didn't go out of style," she mumbled, her hands tightened into fists against her chest. "A-and make it so bullies would have clothes that never fit and were always really itchy!"

Her eyes flashed with frustration, looking more blue than usual. Luka went closer to sit down next to her, wanting to comfort her but not sure how.

"You can still make clothes," he pointed out. "You'll be good at it."

"But—!" she began to protest, turning fully to him. "I had other stuff I wanted to do with my magic! Like—ah... nnn..."

"Marinette?" he called, alarmed as she started to shake. He knew intuitively that it wasn't from rage.

She shut her eyes tight like she had a headache, squeezing herself in a hug. She opened her mouth to respond to him—

Only to disappear spontaneously in a cloud of thick, pink mist. Luka recoiled, staring at what looked almost looked like cotton candy in cloud form that Marinette had been lost in.

Without a thought as to if it might hurt him or not, he thrust his hand inside desperately, hoping to pull her out. He tried to grasp at where her shoulder had been before, but couldn't feel anything except for the bizarre, almost fuzzy feeling mist. Still, he noticed that the movement had cleared some of it, so he waved his arm about rapidly to try and clear as much of it as he could.

A very Marinette-like cough sounded from below, her voice filling him with relief as she called out, "L-Luka?"

His arm pulled back, the mist separating and fading away into nothingness. He looked down towards the source of her voice, thinking that she might have collapsed despite him having not heard it, but that's not at all what he ended up seeing.

Sitting on the floor just as she'd been before was a wide-eyed Marinette, but small; small enough for him to carry around in both hands. Her pigtails had rounded and gained little hair accessories that reminded him of tiny pincushions, while her outfit had changed to a pink, fluffy minidress.

Most notable, however, were the glowing white fairy wings that were coming out of her back. He covered his mouth with both hands in shock.

"You're magic," he said, though it was muffled behind his palms. Even if Santa and the tooth fairy weren't real, at least his inclinations about their magical meeting still made sense.

"W-what?!"

She jumped to her feet, noticing how little she rose up, then turned and twisted every way possible to look at herself, which was when he noticed that she also had pointed ears. Even as tiny as she was, Luka was observant enough to catch the tidal waves of emotion passing over her face one after another. She was surprised by the change, but the wings and new clothes made her giddy, then she swapped to being horrified.

"Ah, but—but there's no tooth fairy!" She put her hands to her cheeks in distress, so fast that they made a slapping sound. "If I was gonna be a fairy, I wanted someone to teach me! Does that—" She gasped. "—Does that mean I'm the only real tooth fairy? All by myself?! I don't have any money to give to other kids!"

Luka fretted as she paced in a tiny circle on the floor, two children entirely lost without direction.

"Or do I have to be a fairy godmother? Do I have to go find a girl to godmother to? What if I pick the wrong girl?!" She whined, the pacing picking up as she threw her arms about. "And I don't know anything about being a god, or a mother!"

He didn't know anything about what was going on, but he didn't want her to worry so much. Perhaps impulsively, he put a hand out to block the path she'd been pacing.

Marinette nearly bumped into it, but stopped just in time. She stared up at him with her wide eyes pleading and confused.

"Maybe you don't have to be anything?" He shrugged helplessly with one arm, hoping for the same as her. "Did it come with rules? Like a board game or a toy you build?"

She perked, realizing that he meant an instruction manual, and immediately started patting herself down. There weren't many places for a guide to be put on her, though he noticed that pockets seemed to magically form when Marinette tried to search for some.

"...No," she concluded when she'd run out of spots to check. "I-I don't think so?"

"Then it's gotta be okay," he said; more decided, really. He might not have fought off dragons, but he would hide and defend her if any sort of fairy police came to scold her for rules they didn't know about. His mom had always been a rule breaker and encouraged him to break them in cases like these.

Well, she didn't describe a situation like his best friend transforming into a fairy, but it fell within the category, he was sure.

As Luka tilted his head to fully take in Marinette, he saw her glancing over her shoulder at her wings. She arched her back, shoulders tensing as she closed her eyes, but the wings only fluttered briefly before she gave up.

"You wanna fly?" he wondered aloud.

"Yeah? No—yeah?" She blushed, getting up on her tip toes to try and make herself seem taller. "You'll hurt your neck if you keep looking down."

He unconsciously touched the back of his neck, having not given an ounce of thought to that. She was the one who suddenly changed, so why was she thinking about him? He looked around, trying to get a gauge on how the room must've looked to her, then suggested, "I can pick you up?"

"Mm?" She hadn't considered the possibility.

He laid his hands on the floor, palms facing up, and raised a brow as if to ask, 'is this okay?' Marinette stared at his hands, taking a few steps closer and looking them over like they were a puzzle, then slowly raised a leg and started to get on. He kept perfectly still, not wanting to jostle her, though she still fell forward due to his hands being a more uneven surface than the floor.

He would've helped had his hands not been preoccupied for obvious reasons. He was vaguely upset at them for being uneven in the first place, as if he'd had any control over that.

He waited for her to sit up and get her bearings, then started to stand up. He kept his eyes on her all the way to the coffee table, walking carefully so as to not trip or bump into anything. When they did reach it, he lowered his hands and she jumped off a couple inches away from the table, falling down slowly like a feather to both of their surprise.

"Oh." Marinette glanced at her wings again, as if she could belatedly check if they had fluttered automatically during the fall. Luka had been watching, so he knew it was just how her new body worked.

He sat himself down on the floor, his arms on the table for support so he could lean towards her. "Do you wanna change back?"

She pursed her lips at him, rubbing her chin, then cheek, and finally the back of her neck. "...I dunno? How?"

He racked his brain, tilting his head from side to side like it might help the thoughts move around more quickly. He recalled their conversation and tried to piece together any connection to her changing. "You were thinking about being a fairy? And magic?"

He didn't know how saying that helped, but she picked it up from there. "So... I have to think about being a not fairy? A not fairy without magic?"

He shrugged.

Since they didn't have any other alternatives, she went with it. Putting her teeny tiny hands on her teeny tiny hips, she shut her eyes and tried to focus. It did feel like a shame to try and change her back when she'd just turned into a fairy, but it was just as important to know what she could and couldn't do.

Nothing was happening though. Her brow twitched, her feet shifting in place impatiently. She swayed from side to side, not unlike he'd done earlier while thinking, then she opened her eyes to look up at him. Letting out a whine from her throat, she turned her back to him and tried again. He didn't know how that was supposed to make it easier on her.

Nothing again. She was still a fairy, still just as tiny, and she turned back to him with the same gleaming blue eyes, pointy ears, and glittery freckles.

"I can't," she said. "Not yet."

Yet? "What's wrong?"

"I'm still thinking about magic." She hesitated, then stepped closer and reached both of her hands up. "Come down."

The words alone were a demand, but the tone made it a shy request. He obeyed, bending over and letting his chin rest on his forearms.

Going close enough to his face that he had to cross his eyes to watch her, she stepped off to the side next to his head, putting a knee on his forearm as she leaned forward. While he couldn't see where she was reaching, he felt her fingertips against his cheek, at the hair in front of his ear.

"If I just have to think about it hard..." she murmured to herself.

He was really curious, but resisted asking in case it broke her focus. Was she performing magic on him? Was that why it felt so warm where she touched?

"Ah!" she yelped, startled, but what came out as shock quickly turned to delight. "It...it works! It works!"

"Marinette," he protested with a whine of his own, unable to stand the suspense.

"Sorry! Here, here..."

She was excited now, a far cry from the anxiety she'd shown when she first transformed. She moved back to where he could see her better, and this time he could watch as she slipped her fingertips through his bangs.

Like, well, magic, his hair changed from black to blue where she touched. He sucked in a breath, watching it spread further until she was satisfied, then she moved onto another lock of his hair. He had to grip his arms, forcing herself to stay still and not spring upwards from her contagious excitement.

She continued until his hair was dyed blue at the tips all along the front, then stepped back and jumped, limps spread in joy as she fell slowly back down. "Ta-dah! I'll do the back later too!"

He popped back up immediately, running his hand through his bangs to feel her work. Mesmerized by how simple the process had been and how perfect the magic dye job was, he let out a long, quiet, "ohhh."

She bounced up and down, then pointed at one of his hands. "Those next, those next!"

He followed the pointing to stare at it, not sure what she meant, but he wanted to know with action, not words. He leaned over once more to watch as close as he could, resting his hand flat on the table.

Marinette knelt down in front of it, placing her hands under his. With a small, "huph," she pulled it atop her lap as much as she could, then reached out towards his fingertips.

He realized what was happening before she'd started, based on where she'd touched: one of his black fingernails. She traced her hand around the outline of his nail, fixing the tiny mistakes and spreading the nail polish further in places he'd missed when he'd done it himself.

She tried to move over to reach the next fingernail when she was done with the first, but he moved his hand for her, offering her each finger at a time and then his thumb. She was elated, which he could understand for the sheer coolness factor of it all, but something in the back of his mind reminded him of everything she'd been saying, as well as what she was cut off from saying due to the transformation.

When she was done with his hand, he swapped it out for the other and asked, "What was it?"

"Mmm~?" she hummed, half of her attention on his nail polish.

"The other stuff? The magic that wasn't for the clothes," he clarified.

She stopped tending to his nails for a moment, beaming at him and answering with her full chest, "Stuff for you!" She waved her whole arm to gesture at his hand, then up at his bangs. "You kept talking about dyeing your hair, and how long it took to do your nails. I knew if I had magic, then I could do it for you!"

And that's exactly what she was doing: she couldn't have even thought about being human again until she knew that she could use magic to cure him of what was essentially a mild inconvenience. He could only stare at her, speechless, at how a big part of her wanting to be a fairy involved him.

She was amazing. The best possible friend he could've asked for. Human or fairy, she was just as magical.

"Done!" she declared as she finished the nails on his other hand, standing up to look it over one more time. "And it'll be our little secret!"

She didn't even want credit for it, another shock to his system.

"Thanks," he managed, finding his voice again. He admired his nails and bangs one last time, reminding himself to look in a mirror later to see the latter in full. "It's so cool. Really cool."

Her smile would put the sun to shame; him being happy never failed to make her happy too, which only heightened the effect this was having on him.

It occurred to him then that, if magic being real meant that fairytales might still be real too, he didn't have to worry anymore. Marinette was a fairy, not a princess, so the rules he'd imagined didn't apply to them, and she'd made it clear that he was important to her.

He might not've been a prince, but he felt like a king.

[lucedilunax]

Thank you, I love you - C. Keller

pairing: Clayton Keller x girlfriend!reader

summary: Three times when she helped Clayton and one time when Clayton helped her

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (+18), swear words

words: 2.4k

note: ahh my first ever request work! i was so excited to write about clayton, enjoy it💕

masterlist

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When Arizona’s franchise was suspended

In April, the big news hit that Coyotes won’t be in NHL. This was a shock for Clayton. He knew about the problems, but he was pushing away the thought that club, who drafted him and gave him a chance to play won’t be existing. His head was spiraling, he was uncertain about his future.

When Clayton got back home after coach told them about this, he hasn’t acknowledged his girlfriend sitting on a kitchen chair, waiting for him. Like always, she asked him questions about the training, but he haven’t heard anything. It was uncommon for him to ignore her. She started wondering if she has done something to piss him off.

She felt like the right call is to give Clayton space. When he went straight to the living room and turned on a movie, she went to their bedroom. As much as she wanted to confront him and ask him what’s going on, she preferred to stay out of it and wait for him to talk.

The evening came and she decided to leave the room and go to the kitchen to cook for both. She knew that Clayton can’t prepare any meals and probably haven't ate anything since he returned. She stepped into the kitchen, and he saw her. He immediately stood up and rushed to her.

“Hi love”. Clayton said and kissed her. “Sorry for earlier but I’ve got weird news and couldn’t place my mind in the right spot”. He hugged her and placed his head on her shoulder.

“Talk to me baby”. That’s all she said while running her hand down his back.

“Our franchise is suspended which means we’re not existing since next season”. He admitted to her. She felt the wet spot on her arm, but she didn't care about it. “I don’t even know if I’m gonna play hockey next season. Every club has good players on my position. I don’t want to retire in the age of 26, there’s still so many things I want to achieve”. She pushed herself from him to look at him. She grabbed Clayton’s face in her hand and kissed his lips.

“Baby, you’ll be playing next season. Stop doing this to yourself. You are great player, and you’ll find a new club. You won’t be in Arizona anymore, but you’ll stay in NHL. Trust me. This is all new and that’s why you feel this way but there’s gonna be club to take you under their wing”.

Clayton looked at her with love in his eyes. He knew she’s right. He’s good player and he’ll find a new club. He grabbed her waist and pulled her to another hug.

“Thank you. I needed this pep talk. I guess I just started overreacting after hearing the news”.

“That’s why I’m always here for you. Just try not to shut me off. I genuinely thought I did something to piss you off and that’s why you haven’t spoke to me since you got back home”. She laughed. He kissed her passionately.

“You, my love, could never do anything wrong”. He kissed her again. “Now, where are we going on dinner?” He asked.

“I planned to cook something. Why would you want to go out?” She asked confused.

“You deserve to be treated like a princess so we’re going out”. When they were going to the car, to lighten the mood, she joked.

“Besides, without Arizona there’s gonna be 31 clubs which is unpaired. They have to create a new team to make it even”. Clayton laughed when he heard that.

“You’re impossible”.

“Maybe, but you love me for that”. Before he opened her door, he grabbed her cheek and kissed her.

“You don’t even have a clue how much I love you”.

When they’ve moved to Utah (NSFW)

Whole summer, Clayton and his girlfriend spent on moving out from Arizona to Utah. It was stressful time for them because they needed to pack all their years of life into boxes. Both had fun finding out old things and getting all retrospections while looking at them. When the house was empty, they felt sad. All their relationship was moving on from the place where they fall in love.

Despite it, she and Clayton were excited for their new chapter. They started new adventure together in Utah. When they bought new house and stepped in, they sheer a tear. This was the place where they’re gonna be a family. She was the first one to look around. Clayton was going after her like a puppy. He saw how she’s gonna be taking care of her their kids in this place. He could already imagine that.

“So, what do you think?” He asked her.

“I love it. It’s beautiful. Can’t wait to start our new life here”. She said and placed her hands behind his neck. “What do you think?”

“It’s great. I’m so happy that you moved here with me”. He leans down and kissed her. “We need to celebrate this”. He kissed her again.

“Mhm, and what do you have in mind?” She asked knowing exactly what he has in mind.

“Let me show you”. Clayton grabbed her under her knees and took her in bridal style to the bedroom. He placed her on their new bed and started to kiss her.

“Wait”. She pulled out from him, and he looked confused. “We’re celebrating new life thanks to your transfer here so let me do the work”. He smiled at her words.

“And how are you gonna do it?”

“Let me ride you”. She blushed at her words. No matter how many times they had sex or even conversations about it, she was shy.

“Undressed love and I’ll do the same. Later, I’m all yours”. She obeyed his words. He undressed immediately. She took off her shirt and pants. but when she wanted to unclip her bra, he stopped her. He was standing naked in front on her when he reached for the bra clip to take if off. Later, he kneeled in front of her and took off her panties. He placed kisses on her lower stomach.

“Stop teasing babe, I really need your dick in me”. Clayton laughed at her words.

“Someone’s eager”. He kissed her lips and sat on the bed. “Then ride me like you wanted”.

She sat on his thighs and spit on her hand to run it over his dick.

“Now, you stop teasing me or I’ll get my way with you”. He said in serious tone. She grabbed his cock and placed her entry on his. Clayton grabbed her waist and helped her to fully sat on him.

“Fuck, you’re huge Clayton”. He smiled at her words. He hasn’t done anything. Just kept his hands on her waist and let her adjust to his length. When she was ready, she started jumping on him. He took off his hands from her waist and played with her tits. She was moaning his name. When she got little tired, he pulled her to his chest and grabbed her ass to helped her in the movements. She started to kiss his jawline until she moaned again from the new angle.

“Clayton… I’m close”. She said while making hickeys on his collarbone.

“Hold on, I’m almost there love”. He speeds up and soon after he could feel her coming all over his cock. He thrusted couple more times and cum in her pussy.

She fell on his chest tired. Clayton stayed in her and kissed her temple.

“I guess we just christened our new house”. She laughed at his words. He felt that she’s shivering from the cold. “C’mon, let’s take a bath and order some takeaway. The boxes can wait until tomorrow. I love you”. He picked her up and kissed her cheek.

When Clayton had been named a captain

Everything was going smoothly in Utah. Most of Clayton’s teammates were transferred there and he’d been hanging out with them. With his teammates, their partners also came here so she had friends here too. They started new life in new state, but they stayed in the same circle.

When Clayton started trainings with new team, there was still big unknown; who’s gonna be a captain in Utah Hockey Club. Everyone was wondering about it but all their focus was on preparation for upcoming season. Almost every preseason game, Utah played without captain. It changed a week before start of the season.

Day after game against Anaheim, the coach named a first-ever Utah captain. He decided that Clayton is the best option with his knowledge, help and understanding. He was over the moon, grateful for the trust and opportunity. In Arizona, he had been alternate captain but now, he was the leader of this ship.

When Clayton returned to their house, he saw her laying on the couch, watching a tv show. He dropped his luggage and laid on top of her.

“Get off me”. She said giggling at his affection. “What’s with you babe? Had a good trip?” She asked curious about what he’s gonna say to her.

 “Two wins and two lost games but that’s not important”. He gets off her and stand up next to his girlfriend.

“Okay, now you’re scaring me”.

“I’ve been named a captain”. Clayton announced proudly to her. When she heard that, she screamed from joy and throw herself into his arms. He caught her trying not to fall at the coffee table behind them.

“I’m so fucking proud of you babe. Oh my gosh, this is huge. I… I don’t know what to say”. She looked into his eyes. He saw the tears coming down her cheeks, so he dried them off with his thumb.

“Thanks love but…” He looked at her with serious expression. “What if I fail them?”

“Stop. You’re the right person on the right place. You’ve already been a captain in Arizona, and you did great”.

“Alternate captain”. Clayton corrected her.

“Still a captain. Look, I get it that you’re scared that you might fail them, but you have coaches and team behind your back. You’re not alone in this. You’ve proved yourself in the past 8 years. You’re great player but most importantly you’re intelligent and you know what you’re doing. You know those guys very well and they trust you. You’re not gonna fail. Not on my watch”. She kissed him.

“Thank you. I needed those words. I don’t know what I would done without you”.

“That’s why I’m here, to help you and support you”.

“Oh, I love you”. He kissed her and hugged her like his life depended on it.

“I love you too captain”.

When she found out that she’s pregnant

She had been feeling sick when Clayton left on a roadie, but she didn’t wanted to bother him. She was certain that it was just food poisoning. When Utah was playing against New York Rangers, she invited other girlfriends to her and Clayton’s house to watch the game. Soon after, game was forgotten, and they had a girl’s night.

She refused to drink wine with them, and questions started floating about pregnancy. She explained that she feels sick and that’s why she doesn’t want to drink but other girls tried to convince her to take the test. At first, she was skeptical, but she knew she has nothing to waste. The next day, she went to the pharmacy to buy pregnancy test.

Sitting in the bathroom and looking at it, she got scared. She knew it’s a bad timing for them to have a kid. They just moved to their new house. She was searching for a new job and Clayton just became a captain. She took a deep breath and took the test.

The next three minutes went super slow. Her mind was floating around. When she grabbed the test, she saw that it’s positive. She started to cry but didn’t know if it’s from happiness or sadness.

She and Clayton always dreamt about having kids, but they wanted to wait until they’re married. They haven’t even been engaged. Will Clayton be happy? What if he leaves her? She started to have all the dark scenarios in her head. She didn’t want to break the news to him on the phone. She hasn’t even said to him that she’s sick because she was confident that he’s gonna freak out.

When Clayton returned from roadie, he immediately knew that something is off with his girlfriend. She haven't came to welcome him, and the house was dead silent. His steps lead him to their bedroom. When he opened the door, he saw her sitting in the middle of their bed biting her nails, habit she had, when she was nervous.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay”. Clayton approached her, grabbing her hands and placing them down.

“No, it’s not okay”. By her voice, he knew she was crying.

“Tell me what’s wrong”. She took a deep breath.

“I’m pregnant”. She whispered. Her head was looking down, she hasn’t had the bravery to look into his eyes.

“Love, that’s a great news”. He grabbed her under the chin, so she was looking at him. “We wanted to have kids. Why are you sad about it?”

“It’s the timing. I don’t have a job; you are a captain. We just moved here. It’s all happening too fast”.

“Maybe fact that you don’t have a job is a good thing. You can stay at home and rest while you are growing new life. You know that money is not a problem. I know that this might look like a bad timing, but we can do it. Together. I’m not leaving you alone in this. We can handle it”. He said and hugged her. He was over the moon by the news, but her reaction scared him. “But if you don’t want to have a kid now, I’ll be fine with that. It’s your body so you’ll decide. Although, I’m willing to be part of this adventure with you”.

“I want this kid but… I don’t know. I guess I freaked out”.

“We’re a team love. I’m here for you”. He kissed her.

“We’re gonna be parents. This sounds insane”.

“True, but I’m excited for the new journey, especially with you by my side”.

“I love you Clayton”. She kissed him deeply.

“I love you too future mommy”. He joked and kissed her back.

---

Thanks for reading❤️

[pygmi-cygni]

domestic oscar isaac characters

headcanons really help writer's block.

Anselm

has found the secret to a happy marriage: keeping you well-fucked, well-funded and well-fed. that way you want for nothing unless it is dire.

He'll buy you gifts, typically with some innuendo, give you a healthy couple of orgasms, and have the cooks make you a delectable feast for dinner. If he had his way you'd just be in bed all day, being pleasured and dining on an exquisite menu.

Probably the first marriage ever consummated during the vows. Your wedding attire was too much, he couldn't handle it. He has you keep it for your anniversaries so you can recreate the scene.

Anselm talks about you relentlessly to his clients. By god the man won't shut up. He uses it as a measure of character; how politely will the guests speak about you and if they'll let him derail the meeting to talk lovingly about your latest accomplishment?

Very patient and loving. Seriously Gomez Addams coded. Sometimes he gets so overworked thinking about all the big things to show his love that he forgets the little things. You gently remind him that sometimes a night in is okay and that you don't have to do anything wild in the bedroom, as long as he's with you.

refuses to discuss a will and testament or any after-death things. Doesn't even want to think about it.

Nathan

already did this for him but idc.

likes existing together. Both of you have your hobbies, they don't necessarily have to involve both of you, but if you can do them together in the same space, that's enough for him.

lets you do your thing, but likes to keep tabs on your location. Not in a stalker way, but it helps his anxiety if you go somewhere without him. Sometimes he'll just text you a hello? and you'll respond with how you're feeling and how quickly you'll be home.

clingy.

also very tactile. if he fucks up programming or something, back rubs and a hug are good ways to calm him down.

Really good at remembering anniversaries and dates. He doesn't like big showy things though. Small, sentimental gifts or watching a movie on the couch.

Leto

ensures your relationship is as stable as stone. Communicates so well, always says what he's feeling, would not keep a secret even if he was at gunpoint.

everything he counsels runs by you first. every plan he makes, every decision, all will have your input. He makes you a wax seal and refuses to acknowledge anything if it isn't on the paper.

makes sure to have an hour with you alone every day. Could be sexy, could be a meal together, could be taking a walk around the grounds, but he needs that hour. If he's ever on a trip, he schedules a holo conference.

If the matter of children ever arises, I think he'd listen to you very carefully. He'd do everything the way you prefer, and be very attentive during the entire process. Leto would forbid a wet nurse or any kind of nanny, in order to keep you and the baby safe.

not opposed to holding the baby during a council meeting. what's anybody gonna say about it?

Poe

literally the most wholesome relationship ever.

makes you laugh, teases you, runs around like a teenager. some people say 'oh he'll never settle.'

but he can keep it serious too. He always checks in if you're feeling down or stressed. Will literally elope with you if you show any stress at all about the wedding. Even if it's just about cake flavors.

idk if any of you know Sheena Melwani and her husband TRID but I think he'd be a lot like TRID. go check them out on youtube it's so wholesome.

dances with you every night. He loves music, and will always pick a song from the planets he visits to show you when he returns. Your favorites are his home planet Yavin, Naboo and Coruscant.

gets matching tattoos with you of a little x wing and a planet. (you're the planet obviously, because he thinks of you as home)

I'll make a part two but this is who I fit in this one.

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love 

@unear7hly @chaithetics

[quixotical-lymbo]

You saw my post, you saw how I’m obsessed with Bee there’s literally no way of hiding it

Headcanons with bee with a gn or fem reader (whichever you want) who’s sick? Idk if transformers can get sick or not but uuuuuhhh let’s just pretend!

If this isn’t getting your creative juices flowing up there then no worries! Don’t feel pressured to write it!

Pairing: B-127/Bee x gn!sick!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: Getting sick isn't a breeze, but with your honeybee beside you it's easy.  A/N: More Bee content because a certain someone is a simp/j Warnings/Tags: Cybertronian reader, sick!reader, brief mentions of vomiting and general stuff involving sickness, happens after the movie, fluff.  Word Count: 850+ words

Feeling iffy 

🐝 For some reason, you've been feeling off ever since you got a cog

🐝 You worked in lower levels with your conjunx and eating enough energon to be half full was a rarity.  

🐝 Now with Iacon entering a new era, having a cog and having a conjunx 'working for the government' as he put it, you had all the energon you could ever want.

🐝 Of course, you weren't scarfing down on it, but it was definitely an improvement than before you left the mines.

🐝 Your symptoms ranged from overheating, sneezing, to even feeling nauseous to the point you couldn't walk straight. You couldn't even keep down the energon you'd consume in normal amounts. 

🐝 One thing was for sure, something was wrong.

Finding out 

🐝 You figured trying to deal with the issue by yourself before Bee found out would work.

🐝It didn't. 

🐝 Bee could tell something was wrong with you after a few cycles of your symptoms persisting. 

🐝 He cornered you in your shared home and that's when he found out you were sick.

🐝 Of course he was upset that you didn't tell him, but more so upset at the fact you were still trying to do daily tasks (whether that was doing your job or helping Elita-1 and Optimus along with him) despite being sick. 

Taking care of you 

🐝 He had to physically drag you to a med-bay to get checked out

🐝 Turns out your condition wasn't too serious, but you needed to get some rest so your body could get used to the fast transitions of having a cog + surplus of energon. 

🐝 Bee heard 'rest' and ran with it.

🐝 He plucked you up from where you sat and carried you out in his arms while yelling about getting you to bed quick. To say you were as blue as, well, energon was an understatement. 

🐝 Now in your shared berth, Bee has taken over the role of being your nurse. 

🐝 He servo feeds you, refuses to let you lift a single digit, and even began reading berthtime stories or what he and Optimus done for the day to get you to fall asleep faster (we all know how much he loves to talk). 

🐝 He could drone on for a longggg time and when you'd eventually drift off into recharge, he'll kiss your helm before he'd leave to give you the time to rest. Sometimes you held on too tight to his servo and he couldn't leave, comm'ing Optimus that his conjunx refused to let him go was a...interesting conversation.

🐝 As much as you appreciated his efforts, you had to remind him you could still function by yourself. 

🐝 He looked confused.

🐝 You offered to get out of the berth and moved to get up, but Bee coaxed you to lay back. 

🐝 You gave him a look. 

🐝 He returned it with his own smirk and a "...don't you dare." 

🐝 You jumped off of the berth and ran off laughing with Bee yelling behind you who gave chase. 

What he does to comfort you

🐝 When Bee is away and not there to 'tend' to you, it gives you a breather to do what you want, but still the symptoms make it harder to find enjoyment in anything

🐝 You could be enjoying a nice energon cube, hurling it back up again until you're pissed and exhausted. 

🐝 When Bee comes back to seeing you in this state, he'll help you back to the berth and cuddle you for the rest of the time he's free.

🐝 Expect to be sung to and him using cheesy nicknames (my sweetest of sparks, energon of my optic, the light of my spark, andddd you get the picture). 

 

🐝🐝🐝Drabble🐝🐝🐝

Your optics fluttered open and the first thing you noticed was a pede in your face. You blinked back the drowsiness and reeled your helm back. Lifting your gaze you noticed the haphazard position your conjunx was in, sleeping next to  you while the upper half of his frame hung off of the edge of the berth. 

You held back a giggle and used one digit to push the bottom of his pede away. Bee's snoring paused as he abruptly woke up and screamed as he fell off of the berth. 

"Huh?! Wha-?" Bee looked up to see your laughing face peeking from the berth. "Ha ha, you think you're very funny, huh?" 

"Oh, I know I am," You coyly retorted as you watched him rise to stand on his knees. He leaned close and stared into your optics, you raised an optic ridge wondering what he was going to do until he lowered his gaze to your dermas. 

"Ah, ah," You moved your helm to the side as he attempted to swoop in. "Not until I'm better." 

 "I know," Bee pouted as he reached over to cup the side of your face. "Can't blame a mech for trying." 

 

"You're adorable and stupid at the same time." 

"Hey!" 

"You're my adorable and stupid mech." 

"Now that's more like it….wait." 

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. like my writing? consider buying me a kofi :)

honeycomb banner(s) by @thecutestgrotto!!

[nicohii]

Actor Nicholas! Whom you have been bestfriends with because there isn't much kids in your countryside neighborhood. He tells you that you can laugh now when he tells you his dream of becoming an actor because his parents did. Acting isn't a profession it's a hobby they tell him. 

Actor Nicholas! Whose eyes light up when you tell him it's not and that you believe he'll be a good actor and that he'll make it to Hollywood.

Actor Nicholas! Who started auditioning for small roles in high school, and your his number one fan / makeup artist / makeshift manager hauling his wardrobe in the back of your dad's old car and driving him around his auditions, squeezing his clammy hands before he goes because he is nervous. 

Actor Nicholas! Who tries to pretend he handles rejection well and hiding it in a teary smile and you tell him, whatever happens you are his number one fan. There will be other projects. 

Actor Nicholas! Who comes in your room screaming, waking you up because he just bagged a modeling gig. And you both jump and down in your bed. You both are screaming now. You drive him there and you celebrate with takeout in your dad's car. 

Actor Nicholas! Who moves to Hollywood because he has his first major movie. He has an actual manager now, an agency and an actual plan. He is over the moon and he promises to always keep in touch like nothing happened and you do too. You hold your tears in the airport. 

Actor Nicholas! Who now wins awards and Oscar's;  you've seen him in the Met. You watch the shows with his family. You pretend as if you still talk but really, you don't talk much anymore. It's fine, he's busy you suppose. You pretend you don't see the way his family looks at you when he is shown with his pretty date to the galas and awards. He is big on gestures, kissing them on screen. They change though, every two months. 

Actor Nicholas! Who builds a sort of playboy reputation. A fast paced lifestyle of fast cars, night life -- what did you expect? He had a face of a man's man. He endorses alcohol brands. He endorses the cars. Women and men alike are attracted to him. 

Actor Nicholas! Who reaches out to you. Because he says he needs a "breathe of home". Technically it's his manager that reaches out, but he worded it in a way of making you know he needs you to take one for the team. Nicholas needs you. His manager has sensed the  buried feelings fortified through time. They know who you are in his life, they know your history from Nico's stories when he was a rookie. He speaks about your before until he slowly didn't, but they won't tell you that. So you take the flight. 

Actor Nicholas! Who has aged without both of you knowing, he has a stubble now. Tanned skin stretched on his 6 pack and biceps, he hugs you like nothing changed. Tight . You have changed too. He is in his pajamas when he opens the door, his eyes are surprised, then it glints and sparkles and before he knows it he is tackling you into a hug. He feels like he is a teen again and he breathes you in. 

He tries to bring you in his world, but has a great way of hiding your identity from the press. He takes you to the lifestyle he is in and asks what you have been up to. You tell him but get shy with the reaction he gives. He has come far and you're still there. 

Actor Nicholas! Who still takes his on-screen girlfriend to events while you are left wondering by yourself through the city and run into one of your old classmates. They tell what are you doing here and that resonates even after he has come home, what are you doing here? 

You realize that you have loved, you still do, love him. But you don't like what he has become. You don't belong here. You can't handle the fame, and he is doing better now, so you decide to tell him you're going home. He is hurt, he doesn't know why, but he lets you anyway. 

Actor Nicholas! Who for some reason, was the one who brought you to the airport. You thank him, you hug him. But never kiss him... Nor did you ever look back when you went in. 

Actor Nicholas! Who realizes this is what you must've felt when he left. He leaves the airport and goes home feeling... empty. His 2-month relationship just ended so what? He's at the peak of his career. His movie and series just hit number one in the charts, he's practically swimming in royalties. Time is at his side.

 "You know... It's been a while since you went home don't you think? " His manager asks absenmindedly one time. It's with intent and knowing but does not explicitly tell him what to do. They have that method, trying to get Nico to use his brain until he comes up with his own plan.

 Actor Nicholas! Who takes a break, books a flight, and drives straight to your door step.

[are-we-really-doing-this]

I need to watch Dogma with Punk

[shugthedug]

Insane to me that people, including other film makers, are so ready to throw down against Scorsese. If the trolley problem was the entirety of marvels output on one track and one more Scorsese film on the other, I’d ram that bitch through the mcu so hard it would obliterate every trace of iron man from time and space. God bless ‘em but I would 💖

[izel-scribbles]

just finished malevolent relisten. needless to say the obsession has been rekindled tenfold its previous magnitude

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation

[hellhoundlair]

venting sorry. i get emotional thinking of the media both me and my dad loved growing up and the father daughter bonds that were the highlights of those movies and tv shows to him and i feel like i failed

[tariah23]

Omgggg I rly did work with sm beautiful girls….

[hauntingblue]

Evangelion movie hello