#shattered reader

[ask-sibverse]

I liked the passive nightmare version you did if it's okay can you do a oneshot where the reader unintentionally flusters him but makes up for it

Pfffff hell yes

You watched quietly from the doorway while Nightmare trained. Ever since losing his corruption to his brother he'd been on edge, probably because he had lost his strongest weapon and his brother had gained said asset. Horror, Dust, Killer, and Cross hadn't left him and neither would you, but everyone was adjusting.

Thankfully Dream- well, Shattered- was quiet for now. He'd lost control for a while, although thankfully not nearly as long as Nightmare had at first, according to him. Still, everyone was recovering from injuries as well as the changes. Some of those injuries would leave permanent issues...

But back to Nightmare. He was training almost every day, having picked up a pair of kukri blades he was surprisingly skilled with. His movements were fluid and agile, and yet you noticed it in his eyes. He was anxious, probably felt more vulnerable without his tentacles to protect his back and blind side. After all, the corruption hadn't healed all injuries, and neither had losing it.

"Need a sparring partner?" You'd picked up surprisingly good control of your fire magic since joining Nightmare. And to think, at once it almost burned you alive from the inside out.

He looked at you, face relaxing slightly when he saw that it was you* entering the training room and not one of his men. "Sure. You'll be better dodging practice, and a moving target would help."

You chuckled, changing into more fire resistant clothes and wrapping your hands to protect them before stepping into the main part of the training area where Nightmare was waiting. You launched yourself at him immediately, hands already on fire.

He jumped out of the way, you trailing after him. Honestly, the lack of tentacles was a huge benefit to you, less dodging to worry about. You managed to get close, although he blocked your fire with his blades. (Another reason to wrap your hands, direct contact with Nightmare's weapon.)

You grabbed one of his blades with your hands, letting the intensity of your flames increase, making the handle hot and letting the flames lick his cheeks. He pushed back, undeterred, and attempted to push you out of the way.

You jumped back, pulling the blade still in your hands and Nightmare along with it. That managed to unbalance both of you, sending him tumbling into you and sending you both to the ground.

You were pinned under him, Nightmare momentarily too dazed to realize he had the upper hand. You were about to replicate a scene from one of Cross's animes-

When your pump started blaring, cgm trying to alert you to your blood sugar plummeting. You groaned, moment ruined. Nightmare helped you up so you could dismiss the alert (for five minutes at least.)

You grinned at him. "Aw and here I thought it was just your pretty face making my legs feel shaky."

Nightmare's face exploded in a bright purple blush as he shoved you towards your phone. "Just go take care of yourself already! And stop hanging out with Killer! He's a bad influence on you!"

You grinned, dismissing the alert before turning around to kiss him. "You like it though, at least when I do it."

[ask-sibverse]

Will do these as prompts for anything you guys request again

Fruits Basket — Volume 1   {Sentence Starters}

“Next time, I’ll win.”

“Put some clothes on!”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

“You were the one moping.”

“Will you still be my friend?”

“Wow, just look at this place!”

“Stop fantasizing and get a life.”

“It’s okay to let yourself be sad.”

“You really suck, you know that?”

“I’m not forgetting anything, am I?”

“That’s because you threatened me!”

“Deep down, they’re just evil people.”

“Take-out every night is no way to live.”

“Can’t we do something about that idiot?”

“I’m not made for interacting with people.”

“Besides, where else are you going to go?”

“I noticed this morning… you don’t look well.”

“You were jumping for joy just a minute ago.”

“I thought I told you to make it worth my time.”

“It’s the mystery that makes him so intriguing.”

“I didn’t do that on purpose! I’m such an idiot!”

“Why did I get all irritated the moment you left?”

“When are you going to learn? You’re too weak.”

“It looks like today’s going to be another hot one.”

“You know, I’m really getting sick of looking at you.”

“I’m sorry for trespassing! I just saw these and — !“

“I mean, I’d never be mad at you… How could I be?”

“Don’t come near me. Don’t ever speak to me, again.”

“It’s not much of a home… but, if you’ll take it, it’s yours.”

“You make it sound as though we did something wrong…”

“That condescending attitude of yours really pisses me off!”

“It’s probably fatigue. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“Just be yourself and do things at your own pace. You’ll fit right in.”

“If you don’t, you’ll never be able to care about anyone but yourself.”

“Do you really get that much enjoyment from playing with people’s lives?”

“I always knew you were a fool… but you’ve really crossed a line this time.”

“Use your head, will you? If you act like an idiot, it causes problems for me.”

“If you really didn’t want to leave, you should have said so in the first place.”

“Normally I hate people who whine all the time… but, in your case, it would be okay to complain. Be selfish. Say what you want once in a while.”

[yeosin-n]

Can I hold shattered dreams face... He's so cute-

watch out he’s gonna you do a tickle !!!!

[comatosebunny09]

A fucked up soulmate AU in which you sever the only link tying you to Sylus (could be physical or metaphorical) because he tells you there’s someone else that has been occupying his mind and, like a bird, he wishes to be set free.

You both feel it when you destroy your linkage. Like, I’m talking, it looks like someone plunged a knife into his stomach. The air is punched from his lungs, and his eyes water, unbidden tears streaming down his face. He might as well have been physically struck, the impact of your bond shattering literally squeezing his heart.

You feel it, too, shaking with the hot swell of tears, and they begin pouring in rivulets down your cheeks, your stomach gnarling and twisting. It’s a pain unlike any you’ve ever felt before, both physical and emotional, and you don’t know how either of you will get through the agony of it all.

With clenched fists and venom dousing your words, you grate out amid your tears, “There. You’re free. Take your newfound freedom and fuck off. I never want to see you again.”

He chokes around a sob when your gazes interlock. This is it. You gave him the release he craved despite fate tying you together from birth. He can’t even stalk after you; he’s too shell-shocked, crippled by pain. But he asked for this. Begged for it. Doesn’t make it hurt any less.

There isn’t a day that goes by when you don’t regret severing your bond after that. Like, years spent mourning the loss of your soulmate despite you both being very much alive.

[thesassypadawan]

Addicted (Stephen x FemReader)

Summary: You love your sweet baby boy, but you know how much of a pretty little liar he can be. Especially when it comes to something he wants.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Mission, refusal to pull out, slight mommy kink, and… Stephen’s cute, big dick.

Notes: I would love to hear what all you, lovelies, think! If you would like to see more of Stephen! If so...I already have another idea in mind! ❤️

- It’s in the way he exhales; breathy, laced with the sweetest whimper. Just barely audible over the lovely, lewd sounds of Stephen’s clumsy thrusts.

- You can practically feel his impatience. See the look of dizzy, drunk pleasure on his angelic face. Clearly on the verge of his orgasm with the way his compact muscles tense…how his neck strains deliciously. “Good…feel so good…”

- Sweat gleams on his skin in the faint light. As well as the angry, red scratches you left on his biceps…chest. “Sucking me back in…clenching around me…”

- The scent of sex lays heavy in the air when he begins to twitch. His calloused hands grip your hips harder. Pace picks up, drives grow more erratic. While he sputters out… “S-shit. You’re g-going to make me…make m-me…”

- “P-pull out, baby,” you pant softly. Writhing beneath him, head tilted slightly to the side. Showing off all the adorable marks he left behind. “You need to p-pull out.”

- Strokes become uneven, sloppy. He shakes his head and something wild, defiant flashes in those blue eyes. “N-no. Please, m-mommy. I want to m-make a mess of this p-pretty pussy…”

- Instinctively you try to push him off, but his hold tightens. Pinning you to the bed, pressing you into it with his weight. “Coat these t-thighs; cover those s-swollen folds…”

- You know you shouldn’t. That you should be more forceful; attempt to fight back, put him in his place. Demand he releases on your stomach, like always. But he looks so sweet, so desperate…you can’t deny him.

- Legs wind, lock securely. Hands cling to his shoulders, pulling him close. Walls flutter while your lips ghost over the shell of his ear. “All right…just this one time though…”

- “T-thank you…thank y-you… I p-promise… Only…only…” Movements falter, stutter. Long fingers digging in, bruising you. As he buries his face into the side of your neck, hot breath and soft curls tickling your skin.

- “O-one…onnnce…” Slamming awkwardly, brutally. Strangled moan flies from his mouth and he cutely cums. His warm seed pumping you all full, making you…

- Wail out at the sudden load. Coil in your stomach finally snapping, sending you crashing over the edge. Crying out; gushing all over his cock, milking him for every drop. Head reeling in the best way possible, barely able to think…because it’s just too good. Not that you'll admit it.

- He babbles, whimpers. Tongue lapping, teeth nibbling gently. Continuing to pound and fuck you through his high. “Warm…s-so warm…” Until the last spurt paints your walls and he stills.

- Propping himself, he hovers above you. Chest heaving, face all flushed and splotchy. Glasses crooked and completely fogged up. “That…that was a-amazing.”

- Try as you might, you can't help but giggle at his adorably, pathetic state. Cupping his pink cheek, tapping it gently. “Glad you enjoyed yourself, but don't get used to it though. One time only…got it?”

- “Y-Yeah…” He mumbles, reluctantly pulling out. Gaze locked on, entranced from the way that creamy whiteness seeps from your core. “O-only once…”

- That something wild, defiant flashes in those blue eyes once more and you know… That by the end of the night you’ll have lost count of how many times he’s cummed inside you… That it’s too late to stop Stephen now… Now that he’s addicted…

- Oh, well… Maybe you'll get a cute baby or two out of this, out of your pretty little liar…

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @adorbzliz, @sythethecarrot, @divineani, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker

[shattermelyhfmlblog]

@warneraaronanderson @warnerslove

[liberty-barnes]

you will not always want to shatter

Arthur Leclerc x Female!Reader

Part 2

Summary: When Arthur has a bad day, an unexpected person makes everything a little better. (When retelling this story to his brothers, many things will be left out) 

Warnings: mentions of workplace bullying (in the sense of people being dicks to Arthur cause he's not Charles), hurt/comfort, mentions of mature themes for like 2 lines, texts

Word Count: 3.6k words

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: "A man is never as hot as when he's depressed." -Miah, 2025

Sebastian Vettel cameo because I love him. Also, reader is connected to the world of motorsports but I won't tell you how because where's the fun in that? You'll have to read to find out ;)

Title from Shelby Leigh's book girl made of glass

Masterlists | Formula One RI Masterlist | Taglist

Why do bad things happen to good people?

Or, more accurately in this instant, why do good things happen to bad people making the good people suffer because the bad people are fucking di–

A knock on his car window brought him out of his self-pity spiral, making him raise his head from the steering wheel. Only to come face to face with a stranger, which… what?

Because he has no survival instincts (Lorenzo would probably yell at him for it when Arthur told him this story later), he rolled down the window.

“Um, hi?”

The stranger smiled. Later on, when retelling this to Lorenzo, he’d say she smiled in a cheery way, not a psychopathic way. Or a creepy serial killer way. Just in a normal, friendly way.

“Tough day?”

Arthur squinted, taking in her cheery smile, kind eyes, and graphic t-shirt with the quote “women are born to serve men��... with a man’s head on platter. Okay, so maybe keep that detail out of the retelling. But one thing was true, she looked… familiar.

“Sorry, do I know you?”

She pursed her lips.

“I don’t know, do you watch a lot of porn? Try imagining me with my top off, see if it rings any bells.”

He spluttered, feeling his face grow hot. There’s no way. There’s actually no way he came across a porn actress and recognised her. He doesn’t even watch it that often, and his memory’s not that good, so how–

A snort stopped his panicking.

“Heavens, you should see your face! Calm down, pretty boy. I’m your neighbour, flat directly in front of yours.”

When retelling this story to Lorenzo, he would definitely keep this out. He glared at her, seeing the cheeky smirk still on her face.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.”

He sighed and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes suddenly growing heavy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you, I probably haven’t been the most cordial neighbour, but I travel a lot for work and–”

She cut him off with a gentle smile.

“I know, don’t worry about that. This is Monaco, in case you’ve forgotten. I know who you are, Arthur Leclerc.”

Right, he should’ve thought of that.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a picture?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m surprised you fit into that helmet of yours with how big your head is. No, Arthur, I don’t want a picture. I came here to see if you were okay cause you were banging your head on the steering wheel so hard I was afraid you’d give yourself a concussion. I can’t let you die, the whole nation would be in shambles.”

He felt a small smile creep in.

“How thoughtful, very patriotic.”

“I know, right? Now come on, get out of the car, I was gonna bake cookies so you can come in and have some.”

He straightened up in his seat.

“Oh, that’s okay, I don’t mean to be a bother–”

“Out of the car Arthur, don’t make me count to three.”

For the record, he got out of the car because he wanted to, not because she told him to. Although, the bright smile on her face was a nice reward.

“Don’t forget to lock the car.”

—

“Um… What is that?”

She hummed noncommittally, setting her shopping bag on the kitchen counter. 

“What’s what?”

He pointed at the four-legged thing sniffing at his shoes.

“This thing, it’s getting close to me, is it gonna bite me?”

She finally turned around, only to laugh softly.

“She is my cat. Her name’s Circe. Don’t worry, she won’t bite you, she’s a sweetheart.”

As if to prove her point, she picked the cat up and nuzzled it to her face, making soft cooing noises.

“Gonna make friends with the neighbour, Ceecee? Think he needs some good cuddles to get rid of the bad day he had.”

The cat simply purred and licked at her nose, bumping their heads together over and over again.

“Go sit on the couch, Arthur, come on. You can put your jacket on that hanger, shoes go next to the door.”

He did as told. Mostly because he didn’t see the point in arguing, a little because she seemed particularly pleased whenever he did as she said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it.”

He rolled his eyes, coming to sit on the surprisingly comfortable couch. It felt like a cloud. He could definitely fall asleep here.

“That’s not what I meant. Can you tell me your name?”

She moved over to him, cat still in her hands.

“I can, but what’s the fun in that?”

She set the cat down on his lap and he held his breath, waiting for it to attack.

“If you don’t tell me I don’t know what to call you, also, I’m really more of a dog person.”

The cat moved around a bit and lifted her paws one after the other, like she was trying to test whether or not his lap was an acceptable resting place.

“Everyone’s a cat person, even if they say they aren’t.”

“Are you quoting Sebastian Vettel but comparing your cat to Ferrari?”

She shrugged.

“It’s a good quote, also, she likes you.”

The cat had her front paws on his chest, raising herself up until she could reach his lips with her nose. It felt a little like she was sniffing at them. Then she rubbed her cheek against his jaw, once, twice, and a third time, before curling up into a ball on his lap, purring away.

“Oh… That’s kind of nice…”

The vibrations were quite soothing. He hesitantly brought his hand to her fur, a mix of orange, black, and brown, with a couple white spots here and there.

“She’s so soft…”

Circe flipped onto her back, curled into a C shape, front paws in the air, giving him full access to her belly. When he caressed it, hesitantly again, the purring got even louder.

“Try under her chin, it’s her favourite spot.”

He did as told once again, taking one finger and running it back and forth under her chin, seeing Circe’s eyes flutter and her whole body going lax.

Despite having been privy to Max and Charles’ conversations over the years, particularly the Dogs Vs. Cat Debacle that starts up again every other week, Arthur has never understood Max’s love for the creatures. 

He most certainly does now.

When telling this story to Charles, he’ll leave out that part. Arthur was a patient man but even he didn’t have the strength to reassure his brother that Leo was cuter and fluffier for the hour it would take Charles to stop feeling betrayed. Especially because he’s not sure he’d be very convincing.

Five minutes with this cat and she had him wrapped around her finger. He’d be worried if he wasn’t having such a good time.

“So, wanna tell me what had you contemplating death by steering wheel?”

It seemed that while he’d been letting Circe work her magic on him, he’d failed to notice the woman moving towards the kitchen. She stood in front of the kitchen island, ingredients spread all around her (which, how long was he distracted?), and with her eyes focused on a battered old notebook. The open plan of her kitchen and living room meant they were able to communicate perfectly fine, and suddenly, he wished they couldn’t.

“Oh, um, you know… Nothing important, really, just me being dumb…”

He kept his eyes on the cat, soothingly running his hands over the soft fur of her stomach once again.

“Arthur…”

He hummed.

“Arthur, look at me.”

It’s crazy how following her instructions became almost automatic to him not even thirty minutes after they’d first met. He should look into that. Maybe she was a witch.

“Anything that makes you feel bad is important, your feelings are important, and I want to listen to them even if it’s because of something you deem dumb. But for what it’s worth, I highly doubt it will be.”

He kept his eyes on her, searching them for any trace of insincerity, but found nothing but honesty and empathy.

“Do you understand, angel?”

He felt his cheeks flush at the casual pet name, but nodded nonetheless.

“Words, Arthur.”

“Yes. I understand.”

Maybe he wouldn’t tell this story to either of his brothers at all because having to explain why his voice broke and he felt breathless was not something he felt prepared to deal with.

But the soft smile on her face really was making him forget how to breathe.

“Good. Now tell me what’s wrong, yeah? It’ll make you feel better.”

“You don’t have to listen to me, I don’t wanna bother you, you’re doing enough as is.”

She stopped, lifting her eyes to him, bag of sugar held in the air as she was preparing to measure it.

“You said it again.”

She squinted her eyes.

“Said what?”

“Bother. Before it was burden. And apologising for not being a better neighbour. Someone made you feel like you’re not enough, while also being too much at the same time. A subpar human and major annoyance. Am I right?”

He shrugged his shoulders, hoping she wouldn’t make him answer the question. But she seemed to sense his discomfort, because she didn’t ask him to speak this time.

“Well, whoever it is, they’re wrong. You’re not a burden, Arthur. Listening to you would be my pleasure, even if it’s for some petty thing. Get it off your chest. I promise I won’t judge or think you’re too much to handle.”

He looked at Circe, who had taken to licking his hand repeatedly. He felt flattered to be let into such a sanctuary, and to be blessed with such a wonderful creature’s attention.

“I had a promo event this weekend. I don’t know how much you’re aware of how things work in motorsports, but basically, even though I don’t drive for them directly, I’m still a part of Ferrari’s team. I help develop the cars, and occasionally do these little events for fans or other people in the business. Just regular media stuff.”

Even though she wasn’t looking at him, focusing on making the cookies, he could tell she was paying close attention to his every word.

“So, I was supposed to spend a weekend in Maranello, mostly doing sim work, but then I had a meet and greet with some fans. The sim work didn’t go great, I was paired up with another driver who’s just… young and arrogant, to be honest. He kept trying to undermine me in front of everyone, but it didn’t seem to have worked very well. I was… truthfully I was a bit angry, because he got such a great opportunity, and he was just using it to try and pretend he was smarter than everyone, like he knew everything, trying to get ahead at others’ expense.”

This time, when she tapped the egg on the counter’s edge to crack the shell, it shattered completely from the force she put behind it.

She blinked.

“Oopsie.”

She didn’t look the least bit sorry.

“Continue.”

“Right… Well, um, he was still with me when we went to meet the fans, and it was going pretty decently. We were signing a bunch of things, taking pictures, saying little fun facts about the factory, just the usual. And then he noticed that one of the fans had a picture of my brother on her phone case.”

She hummed.

“Lorenzo? Yeah, I can see why, he’s quite handsome.”

He let out a breathy laugh, feeling himself relax slightly at her attempt to lighten the mood.

“Unfortunately, the general population much prefers Charles. But yeah, she had a picture of him on his phone case and the guy pointed it out. He said ‘I  hope you’re not too disappointed to have to see Arthur instead. He’s like the Wish version of Charles, cause you just wish he was his brother’.”

He heard her inhale sharply but didn’t remove his eyes from Circe’s fur.

“I laughed it off, you know, pretended it was a funny joke between friends, but… I don’t know, it’s stupid. It’s not like he was wrong, he just said what everyone else was thinking.”

It seemed like all it took was one blink of his eyes, but suddenly she was standing in front of him. She took his head in her hands, framing it and forcing him to look her in the eyes.

“You listen to me and you listen carefully, Arthur Leclerc. You are not a burden, a disappointment, second-best, or a stand-in for your brother. You’re an amazing person and an accomplished racer in your own right, and if someone can’t see that, then it’s on them. That guy was a dick and I’m half-tempted to drive down to Maranello myself so he can see what happens when someone talks back.”

He felt the tears he’d been keeping at bay for the past two days finally start to fall, watching her eyes flicker between his.

“You’re not just Charles Leclerc’s brother. You’re Arthur Leclerc. You’re you. And the world’s a better place with you in it, do you understand?”

And that was apparently all it took to make him start sobbing like a child.

“Oh, angel, come here…”

He barely processed Circe jumping off his lap when the woman sat on the couch, pulling him on top of her. She laid him down on his side, with his back to the backrest, and laid down next to him, resting his head on her chest. Her arms were around his head and shoulders, one leg pulled up over his body, and he could feel her pull down the heavy blanket so it could cover their bodies. He was completely enveloped by her and he’d never felt so…

Safe.

He put his arms around her waist and hugged her tighter, cried harder, so hard his breathing was coming out in short bursts, making him feel like he was almost choking on his tears.

“Shh, there you go, baby, let it all out, I’m right here. Try to breathe for me, yeah? It’s all gonna be okay.”

He couldn’t say how long he stayed there like that, cradled in her arms, feeling her run her fingers through his hair and whisper soothing words into his ear. She never told him to stop crying, just kept reassuring him that she was here, to just let it all out, that she’d take care of him.

When the tears finally dried up, his face felt hot and wet. There was a low pounding in his skull, and his breathing still felt a little bit laboured, but he felt lighter, in a way.

“There you go. Does that feel better, darling?”

He nodded slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“Good, let me go grab some things and I’ll be right back, okay?”

It felt like a herculean effort, to have to let her go, but he still did it, staring listlessly in front of him until she came back, kneeling in front of the couch.

“Close your eyes for me, angel.”

He didn’t question it, just let them close and sighed at the feeling of a damp washcloth being gently rubbed over his face, wiping away the tears (and most likely snot, too). 

“There you go, baby, you did so good.”

He opened his eyes again to see her set down the washcloth and pick up a glass of water.

“Think you can get up and drink this for me?”

She ended up sitting back on the couch, holding him up with one arm while the other helped him get the glass to his mouth. He drank it all, per her request, and felt his eyes wanting to close again. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He heard the empty glass being put down before he felt her arms around him again.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, darling, your body’s just tired. How long has it been since you slept or ate properly?”

He shrugged his shoulders. Truthfully, he couldn’t remember.

“And judging by what I heard, you probably drove all the way from Maranello this morning, no?”

He nodded.

“Wanted to get home.”

“I know you did, lovely, but you’re exhausted. You had a very tiring weekend that, if I remember correctly, came right after a double-header, and even if it made you feel better, all this crying was most likely the breaking point. You need to let your body and your mind rest.”

He felt his breathing start to even out as she ran her fingers through his hair again.

“Just sleep, angel, I’ll look after you.”

That voice was certainly hard to resist.

“Just for five minutes…”

He told himself he would just rest his eyes.

Five minutes, nothing more.

The last thing he heard was her voice, softly singing a lullaby in a language he didn’t know.

—-—

Despite who her father was, (Y/n) had never been the type to stay quiet. Quite the opposite, she couldn’t stop talking to save her life. She was loud and unapologetic in her expressiveness, never one to simply seethe in quiet anger.

But now, holding a sleeping Arthur to her chest, she felt the rage building up under the surface, silent and dangerous. She wanted to track down the guy who dared say such cruel things.

She forced herself to keep breathing, to stay calm. Arthur was asleep and he needed the rest, it would be counter-productive to wake him up because she couldn’t keep a lid on her emotions.

She spent a good ten minutes sat on the couch, running her fingers through the soft strands of his hair, staring blankly ahead as her mind filled with images of the countless cruelties she could inflict on the boy who’d dared to hurt someone as precious as Arthur. 

Once she was sure he was as deep into sleep as she could send him, she carefully got up, resting his head against a pillow, and tucked him in with the weighted blanket she had on the couch. Circe didn’t waste time in joining him, starting up a soothing purr to keep him calm in sleep.

She picked up her phone and sent a text, not needing to wait long for an answer to come.

Satisfied that Sebastian would handle it, she got to work on finishing up her cookies. After all, Arthur would be hungry when he woke up. 

Maybe she’d make them dinner too.

—-—

Arthur woke up slowly, feeling the world slowly filter back in through his senses. He was warm and relaxed, lying on something soft. His neighbour’s couch, he belatedly remembered. Circe was curled up against his chest, purring up a storm, the vibrations soothing against his tired body. Music played at a low volume in the background, and upon opening his eyes, he saw a record player spinning. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a string of fairy lights hung up on the cornice, and a few candles lit here and there. The house smelled divine.

“Hey there, angel, how you feeling?”

His neighbour walked towards him slowly, a bowl in each hand, and set them down on the coffee table. There were spoons and water already laid there as well.

“Okay, thank you.”

She knelt in front of him, pushing his hair away from his forehead, and he felt his eyes flutter as he leaned into the touch.

“That’s good, how’s your head? You’re feeling a bit warm.”

“Still hurts little bit from all the crying but mostly okay.”

She took her hand away and he opened his eyes.

“Well, I made some chicken noodle soup to hopefully help you feel better, and afterwards we have warm cookies for dessert, sounds good?”

She was an angel, he was certain of it.

They ate while watching Barbie in The Nutcracker, practically glued to one another. Arthur wasn’t ashamed to admit he ate faster just so he could cuddle up to her better, way past the point of embarrassment or hesitation. If she didn’t want him to be this clingy she shouldn’t have broken his brain. Besides, she didn’t really seem to mind.

The cookies were honestly the best thing he’s ever put in his mouth, and he almost cried after the first bite. He didn’t count how many he had, but she kept handing him more, so he had to eat them.

It was only when he got a text from Lorenzo asking if he got home alright that he saw the time.

“Shit, it’s past midnight. I have to call my brother.”

He pouted, not wanting to leave, and she just smiled at him.

“Wanna come have breakfast tomorrow morning? There’s a bakery a couple blocks down that makes really good croissants, and we can just spend the day watching movies.”

Was it to early to say he was in love?

“Okay.”

He didn’t hesitate, and the smile he got in return could’ve powered a village.

Halfway to his door, right across hers, he turned back.

“You never told me your name.”

She smiled at him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“You’re a smart boy, you’ll figure it out.”

And the door was closed.

He stood there for a good five minutes, staring at the wreath she had hung up, until he remembered to check the name under her doorbell.

(Y/n) Räikkönen

His brother’s ringtone echoed around the hallway and he picked up the call immediately.

“Lorenzo, you will not believe who I just met.”

And that's it for my first F1 fic, hope you liked it! Ngl I got very attached to Circe and now I want another cat so that Sunny can have company.

Don't forgot to comment and reblog, asks and DMs are always open!

-Love, Miah <3

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: fix you

pairing: aaron warner x (first person) reader

synopsis: aaron returns from a meeting with his father, but something is off… (prior to the ignite me tattoo btw)

warnings: mentions of abuse, a bit suggestive at the end ;)

a/n: first aaron warner fic ever… thanks for reading 🤍🤍

tag list: @wish-i-were-heather @midiosaamor @sweetlikeanangel @maybxlle @whatsamongus @elysianwayy77 @bewitchingkisses @emelia07 @inmyheaddd @sweetreveriee @azysmate @anintellectualintellectual @off-to-the-r4ces

I hear someone stumble in and immediately panic seizes my chest. Aaron Warner doesn’t stumble, so logically it must be an intruder. But who the hell would’ve found a way into Aaron’s private quarters? I don’t care, I grab the gun from under the floor board and slowly approach the door. My heart bangs in my chest, crawling its way to my mouth. It’s so dark that I can barely see a thing. I hear a second step taken and I can tell by the way the weight is hitting the floor unevenly that it’s a shaky step. I take my chance and swiftly rush out, gun pointed towards the figure.

“You’re holding that all wrong, love,” says a dry voice.

“Aaron?” I ask, my voice catches in shock. I squint through the darkness in attempts to recognise him.

“Care to explain the gun?” he replies, eyebrows raised at my questionably aimed weapon.

“I thought you were an intruder,” I say, dropping my arms down to my side and playing the gun down.

“I am not,” Aaron tells me bluntly.

“Obviously,” I smile, attempting to touch his arm. But just as a go to clasp my hand around it, he moves.

Swiftly and almost silently, he walks past me. I feel his body brush against mine softly.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I need to shower,” he replies.

There’s something off about him. He stumbled in, his voice is uneven, he wants to get away from me. Something happened and I have this horrible feeling that it was something horrible.

“Are you okay?” I say, trying to seem casual.

“Fine,” he replies. His tone is blunt but cut-throat. He can tell I’m fishing for what’s really wrong and he’s making it clear he doesn’t want to talk. Unfortunately for him, he chose the wrong girl if he wants me to shut up and move on.

“Did it go okay?” I continue.

“It went how it usually did,” he tells me, his voice low.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. I knew who his dad was and how he was treated, I knew the traumatic stories of his childhood and the bad memories that would haunt him at night, I knew I wanted to kill the man who’d given them to him. But one thing I never knew was anything to do with the meetings held with his dad.

“You know my father, love. He isn’t a pleasant man and nor are his meetings,” he says plainly, “now I’m going to wash.”

He walks towards the bathroom, flicking the light on. The brightness is fluorescent and artificial. I begin to follow him and then I see it. I stop in my tracks. Reams of crimson ribbon decorate the back of his white shirt, jagged lines of the deepest blood red. The fabric has soaked in the liquid and it’s splayed out all across the white. My stomach turns.

“Aaron…” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“Please, love,” he sighs, running a hand through his perfect hair, “I need to shower.”

“He hurt you,” I murmured, “again?”

He freezes suddenly, realising he’s bled through his white shirt. He’s too exposed to hide it from me this time. He can’t brush it under the carpet when the stains are on the surface. He lifts his head up, back still towards me.

“Don’t,” he says harshly, his voice so low it sounds dangerous.

I don’t say a word as he walks into the bathroom, but my legs can’t help but follow even though my brain is telling them it might be a better idea to not. I step inside quietly and I can feel his body tense.

“Aaron-“

“I said don’t,” he repeats, the bitterness in his tone making me flinch.

Something that resembles anger flickers in my chest. An amber flame of fury.

“Sit down,” I say, my voice firm and unwavering.

He stills, staring down. I don’t say a word and neither does he. In the silence, the air grows heavy and thick, weighted with unspoken words. I don’t know how long we stand like this until slowly he sits down on the lid of the toilet. I wait a few beats, then slowly crouch down, level with his knees and his eyes shooting straight to the floor.

“He hurt you again, didn’t he?” I ask for the second time.

He’s silent.

“Please Aaron,” I beg, “you can’t keep doing this.”

The desperation in my tone makes his heart ache, but still he doesn’t look at me as he says, “he’s hurt me my entire life, love, today he was no different.”

“Show me,” I murmured.

“I don’t want you to see this,” he grits through his teeth, still refusing to meet my eyes.

“I don’t care,” I say, “you can’t keep shutting me out.”

“I can and I will,” he replied curtly, turning away.

“Warner,” I snap, in an attempt to get his attention.

He looks up sharply. His green eyes flicker with some sort of hurt. I never called him Warner, he was my Aaron. Warner was for everyone else, but Aaron was for me.

“Let me help you,” I say firmly, “you need to let me in like I let you in, this goes two ways.”

He stares at me saying nothing for a while. I wonder when he’s going to get up and walk out. Maybe leave completely. Forever. That thought scares me the most. Aaron shuts down when he can’t share his problems. He shuts down and shuts me out.

I am surprised when he slowly takes his shirt off, revealing his battered back. I bite back a gasp and conceal the shock and horror from being displayed on my face. Amongst the jagged scars that ripple across his back, the ones I already knew of, the ones I had once traced, there were fresh wounds. Long, distorted shapes are looping across him, oozing fresh hot blood. Great purple bruises splayed out of the sides of each lash mark, creating some sort of sick and twisted abstract art piece.

He must be in so much pain.

“It’s a shame really,” he murmurs, “I quite liked that shirt.”

I pull myself together, “you have a dozen others like it.”

“I liked that one,” he replies quietly.

“I like you without a shirt better anyways,” I grin at him.

“Well,” he says cracking a half smile, “I suppose I can spare it then.”

“I suppose you can.”

I grab a wash cloth from the cabinet above and soak it with warm water. Gently, I dab his new lashings, trying to wash them. The deep red bleeds through the white of the cloth, spreading through it, like a river of hate. With each stroke I see his face contort.

“Does this hurt?” I ask tenderly.

“I’m fine,” he replies, his voice hard.

“You’re wincing,” I say flatly.

He glares at me. It’s hot.

“I’m fine,” he states.

I drop it and continue to clean. When I am satisfied that I’ve done the best I can, I return to the cabinet and pull out antiseptic and bandages.

“Not antiseptic,” Aaron grumbles.

“Don’t be a baby,” I retort with a laugh, cutting the bandages to the right size.

“I’m not!” he says, a bit too defensively.

“I’m not letting those wounds get infected Aaron, I’m using antiseptic,” I tell him, unable to suppress my smile.

He rolls his eyes and reluctantly lets me press antiseptic into each open gash. He hisses each time, refusing to cry out so I attempt to be as quick and efficient as I can.

When I am finished, I move on the bandages. I stand in front of him and work around. Gently, I wrap the bandage over his back and torso. His hands suddenly clasp my waist, his grip is firm. I bite back a gasp. His hands are so hot I can feel them through my clothes, though in this moment I wish I didn’t have the barrier of clothes.

I try to ignore the distraction he knows he’s making. Softly and methodically I continue to bandage his back and once I make the final wrap I lean down and press my lips on his. He kisses back eagerly, pulling me onto his lap. I wrap my thighs around his hips and continue to plant tender kisses all over his mouth. I’m dizzied by the sensations of passion. We pull away finally when neither of us can think straight and his eyes lock with mine, the delicate green tainted with something I couldn’t quite place my finger on.

“How do you feel?” I ask, brushing a strand of blonde that had fallen, out of the way.

“After that,” he murmurs with a grin, “on top of the world.”

“Your back,” I deadpan.

“I don’t care about my back,” he groans, “kiss me again.”

“Aaron,” I say, my tone accusing.

“Please, love,” he begs, closing his eyes, “I’m suffering withdrawal symptoms here.”

“Aaron,” I laugh.

“Just one kiss, it won’t hurt,” he says quietly, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. His touch so airy I almost don’t feel it.

“I’m not kissing you until you answer me,” I reply.

“You like to make my life difficult don’t you?” he sighs.

“Ditto,” I poke my tongue out.

“It’s much better now you’ve worked your magic,” he answers my question, gazing at me.

There’s a long pause, but it feels like our eyes carry on the conversation. But every time I look into those emerald voids, I feel his pain. And it makes me see red.

“He shouldn’t do this to you,” I murmur, anger lacing my tone.

“I know,” he replies.

“I hate it,” I practically growl, my face all screwed up at the thought of someone hurting Aaron. My Aaron. I hadn’t had time to get angry earlier, I’d been too worried about the wounds. Now they were clean and dressed, I have the opportunity.

“I know,” he says again.

“I want to stop it,” I tell him, then falter, “but I don’t know how.”

“I’ve been trying to work that out for a while, love,” he says, nuzzling into my collarbone.

“Just,” I pause and sigh, “please let me help you, you don’t have to hide for everyone you know.”

“It’s what I know how to do,” he murmurs, looking up, “opening up is the opposite of how I was trained to be.”

“But you’ll try?” I ask hopefully.

“I’ll do anything for you, love,” he smiles, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I smile, my cheeks glowing a soft pink.

“I love you,” he whispers with another kiss.

“I love you too,” I giggle, melting into him.

He cups my face in his hands and kisses me slowly, tenderly. The motion is long and drawn out, each millisecond testing my self control. Desperation claws at me, all I want to do is kiss him harder and faster but I stay patient. My hands find their way to the back of his neck and comfortably into his hair.

“Let’s go to bed,” he says against my lips.

“You don’t sleep until three o’clock in the morning,” I scoff.

He turns and looks at me, a twinkle in his eye and a smirk placed comfortably on his lips, “who says we’re sleeping?”

a/n: this is my first aaron warner fic and cut me some slack bc I have not read shatter me in months, I really should do another reread… but hopefully I captured the characters okay. But tbh after reading it back I kind of hate it, it feels rushed and weird but yolo so I’m posting it anyways!!

and I know what you’re thinking ‘bella you promised us the mysterious blonde part 4’… I know it is being written, it’s just really long and I want it to be perfect so there are a few little fics in between

shatter me masterlist

[clarissaweasley-10]

Warner: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Kishimoto. Kenji: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

[balloonboyismyson]

Chica :o(

[soulaires]

Sweet Dreams | A.W

pairings: dad!Aaron Warner x mom!Reader

synopsis: Aaron loves his daughter, he really do. Hell, he would burn down the world for her but sometimes,, all he wanted was to spend one night alone with you—his beloved pretty wife.

warnings: interrupted sexy times, domestic life, GIRL DAD AARON WARNER LESSGOOO, comfort, nightmares, Aaron Warner is so done, reader and dior are little shits, fluff, married life, light smut obvi, it was interrupted though (literally the whole plot) not proofread …

« words: 1,607┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

🏷 :: @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan @nomournersonefuneral @lilyevansstudygroup @arinexeisnotworking

Aaron Warner is a good father.

He really is, he educated himself on the risks, pros and cons, he even bought himself a book on how to take care of his pregnant wife, a beginners guide on being a father and what not.

He would like to pride himself that he knows about everything, knows how to handle when the baby cries, when the baby throws a tantrum, or when his daughter wants something and such.

but…

If there was one fact no one mentioned to Warner about being a father, it was just how quickly his sex life would evaporate.

He loves dior, he really does. She is his most beloved daughter, baby girl, light of his life, his princess, his Achilles heel (plus you, of course.) and unfortunately the bane of his existence.

he’s kidding.

but of course there are some times that he just wants an alone time with you, his beautiful wife without being interrupted by a certain little princess.

All because you drove him to madness, igniting an insatiable desire within him, awakening the hidden beast that eagerly salivated and panted in response to your lustful glances, strategically unleashed whenever the mood struck.

He would be a fool to lie and pretend you didn’t stir something inside of him, some wretched version of himself rattled the bars of its cage, akin to a hurricane relentlessly tearing through barriers to reach you whenever you allowed your sugar-sweet voice to caress his sensitive ears.

He was a slave for the love you easily gave him as if it’s the easiest thing you can ever do. How can you easily love someone like him? a hopeless man yearning for thirst and begging for a single drink, a solitary taste, as if dying of thirst and pleading at your feet.

You were his goddess, and the privilege of sharing your bed, your throne, surpassed all his wildest dreams. Simply being by your side was more than he believed he deserved, and he vividly recalled the day he first encountered you—the day you convinced him that he was truly worth something.

—

The room is awash with the silvery glow of the moon, you notice, setting a tranquil atmosphere that amusingly contradicts the feverish warmth of Aaron's caresses. His kisses trace a journey from the curve of your neck to the hollow of your navel. However, any sense of composure shatters when your husband playfully bites your right nipple, sending all rational thoughts scattering out the window.

“Ah, Aaron,” you groan after a sharp nip against your collarbone. “fuck! baby…I—we can’t—!”

“Shh, we can, love. Dior is asleep” he whispers against your ear, “just let me take care of my wife, yeah?” He said as he caressed your hair, admiring your beauty under him. “It’s just us…” he said as he chuckled and that made you shiver.

“Pretty, momma…look at you, my pretty wife.” Aaron shifts to readjust himself as he hurriedly vanishes the remaining clothes and attacks your lips and kisses you passionately and hungrily as if he has been starved for years.

“Gods—look at you, ma, pretty as life and poison, want me to put another baby on you, hm?” he said as he dragged his teeth against your chest to taste your beating heart and he then placed soft and slow kisses on your face while stroking your face with his thumb.

You draw him closer, intending for a light and sweet kiss to allow your husband to continue his gentle touches. Yet, it’s not your fault that you find yourself getting lost in the sheer perfection that is Warner.

He, in turn, envelops both of you with his hand, stirring a gentle desire for more within you and oh, dear god, you need more.

Just as you are about to open your mouth to voice out your desires for a little more, a soft, almost inaudible knock interrupts the intimate moment.

The unmistakable soft voice of your three-year-old daughter pierces through the room, calling out, “momma..? dada..?” Panic flashes between you and Aaron, and hastily, you both scramble to locate your discarded clothes.

“mommy! daddy!” yelled dior through the door as she started knocking continuously that makes you and your husband panic more. “‘s da door broken..?!”

“just a second, princess,” Aaron softly calls out, panicking when his hard-on doesn’t seem to go away. Hell.

He glances up at his wife and stares at you, baffled when he realizes that you had already put on your night gown and on your way to open the door.

“Wha—how?” he asks in disbelief. “You were literally just—”

“Don’t underestimate me.” You joked.

Aaron dismissively shakes his head, muttering under his breath, and takes a seat on the bed, discreetly covering his arousal with the white comforter just as Dior bursts into the room and enthusiastically throws herself into your arms.

“Hey, baby,” you whisper, gently rubbing comforting circles on her back. “Nightmare, love?”

"Uh-huh," Dior nods against your neck, her tears leaving your nightgown slightly damp.

you picked her up and went to the bed as dior hugged her dad, sniffing as she softly cried, “oh, darling. What happened, princess? hm?” Asked Warner as he hugged his crying daughter to his arms.

“I—hiccup t-thought monsters got you,” said dior, her green eyes filled with tears. you then pulled her into a hug.

“aw, baby, we are fine,” you said, patting her back. you brush the blonde curls out of your daughter’s eyes. “yeah, sweetheart, no monsters here.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, looking suspiciously around their room.

“Promise,” you replied, assuringly as you stood up to rock her to calm her down.

“We promised, sweet princess. And if there is, daddy will scare the ugly monsters away,” your husband assured her from the bed as dior starting to calm down,

“really?” she said with a shaky voice and a glassy doe eyes and you almost cried seeing her state.

Poor baby.

“I promise, Di, daddy will protect you and momma.” Aaron said sincerely as you rocked her back and forth in your arms, running your fingers through her wild curls.

Dior sniffles start to quiet down. “Mhm…,” she says. “Can I stay here?” She looks at you with puppy eyes that is impossible for you to say no so you nodded.

“Of course, princess ,” Aaron responds, quietly mourning the loss of one night with his wife, alone.

As you continue rocking Dior in your arms, attempting to lull her into a peaceful slumber, your efforts are momentarily interrupted by her sweet voice, breaking the silence of the room.

“Mommy?” Dior queries after a few minutes, perched on your lap with a wide-eyed expression. “What's wrong with daddy?”

Your gaze shifts toward Aaron, who remains sprawled face-down on the bed, emitting occasional groans and muffled whines in his attempt to compose himself for the sake of your toddler. Suppressing a grin, you find amusement in his comical efforts.

“Well, Di,” you murmur, showering light kisses on your daughter’s chubby cheeks to conceal your amusement. “I think your daddy is having a nightmare, much like the one you just experienced.”

Dior gasps in innocent concern. ”Oh no! Mommy, give daddy kisses to scare the monsters away!”

Smiling at her pure-hearted suggestion, you gently explain, “I don’t think that will help, sweet thing.” Observing Dior's face scrunch up in confusion, you swiftly add, ”You see, adults have different nightmares than kids do.”

“But kisses always help!” Dior insists with unwavering conviction.

”Well, if you insist,” you reply, giving in to her innocent plea, and share a quiet laugh at the sheer delight evident on Dior's face.

As you comply with dior’s request, you peppered kisses onto your husband’s face, eliciting a chorus of giggles from both him and Dior.

After showering Aaron with a cascade of kisses, he playfully remarks, "Mhm, daddy is okay now, but he'll be even more okay if you give daddy a kiss too."

Dior, with her eyes sparkling, responds enthusiastically, "Okay, Daddy!" She complies, peppering him with a flurry of sweet kisses as you heard Aaron giggles so you did, and in the midst of the joyous exchange, she graciously plants kisses on your face, too.

“Thank you, baby. Ready for sleep?” You asked and the response is a barely there nod.

“Love you and g’night, little missy.” You whisper, your voice sounds like a lullaby to the quiet room.

Aaron chimes in, taking on the role of the protector, “daddy will be right here, chasing away any monsters that dare to bother you, emerald.”

Dior, even in her drowsy state, manages to mumble a sleepy “luvu, daffy, momfy” before succumbing to dreams. The room, now quiet except for the soft breathing of your little one.

Your husband then looked at you and softly smiled, “I’ll chase all of your monsters away, too, love.” you softly giggled and gave him a peck.

However, as the night deepens, you feel a pair of eyes on you. Turning your attention, you find your husband, his expression akin to a kicked puppy, a playful pout adorning his features. It’s a silent plea for the solitude that eluded him tonight, a longing for those moments when it’s just the two of you.

You meet his gaze, understanding the unspoken disappointment in his eyes. As a promise of solace, you assure him with a tender look that whispers, ”Next time, it'll be just us.” you promised him.

And you were never the one who breaks promises.

So, was it really a surprise that after you fulfilled your promise you found yourself with two positive pregnancy tests?

No, not really.

📫 :: my first post in 2024 ?!?!!? Anyway this will be a series !!! Next one will be the introduction of the new addition to the family and THE question of “where does baby come from?” From baby warner. Also, if you want to be added to my taglist please do let me know!

[ask-sibverse]

passive nightmare x reader oneshot?

When nightmare becomes passive again when Dream takes the apple how would reader react and help nightmare when they and the gang find out

So you probably mean one of two possibilities, I'm going with the Shattered Dream option because I like that option better. (Is each "version" of Reader getting a side with each Dreamtale twin at this point? That's what it looks like, lol)

You... Definitely weren't expecting Dream of all people to eat a corrupted apple. Slightly less unexpected was for him to grow his own goopy tentacles and go completely out of control. You all returned home with your tail in between your legs after that, and you had no idea what became of Blue or Ink after that fight.

Nightmare retreated to his room and locked himself inside. You and the rest of his men were left to tend to your wounds alone. You expected him to come out eventually but... He didn't. Days passed without even a sound to indicate he was even alive, and the aura he naturally exuded was getting weak.

Which is why you were breaking into his room now. You were totally prepared for yelling and scolding and maybe to be thrown out by his tentacles.

"Come on, it's just me," you said gently, trying to coax him out. "I saw some injuries on you, can you please let me take a look at them?"

What you weren't expecting is to find Nightmare so... Small. And fragile looking. That bashed in part of his skull reminded you a lot of Horror. He seemed determined to hide his current state from everyone, even you. You only caught a glimpse before he was out of sight again.

"I already treated any wounds," he said gruffly, facing away from you.

"Oh yeah? And when was the last time you changed any bandages? Over a day?"

"I've been keeping clean!"

"Then let me see."

He finally edged back into view. He looked shorter than you like this. The corruption must've given him a height boost somehow.

"So did the corruption transfer from you to Dream?"

"It would appear that that is what happened, yes." He refused to meet your eyes. "Do not tell Killer about this."

"He's going to find out eventually." You started changing his bandages, leaving his eye alone for now. "He lives here, and he's worried about you."

"I'll never hear the end of it, ending up like this. I look frail and weak, hardly fitting to appear to be a leader."

You snorted. "As if that should stop you? You've bosses those boys around for decades now. A little change in appearance shouldn't change anything."

[mikotosworld]

Aaron?

Yes, love?

[ysrjune]

earth angel 𝜗𝜚

#🩵 #🦋

NERD!ANAKIN X POPULAR!READER [ HIGHSCHOOL ]

You shared 6th period drama with Anakin for the past four years of high school. It's an easy A, and you actually like it. Him, on the other hand, was more meh about it. He didn't mind acting things out with his classmates. It wasn't a huge deal.. until he was cast in a play as a main character

"I can't do all that in front of the billions of students that attend plays! It's embarrassing!" He complains to you on the way home. "Anakin, stop being so dramatic. It's not like you have to do it for 7 days straight." Preformances were held for 3 days. Thursday, two hours after school, Friday at 7pm, and Saturday morning.

"You'd freak out too if you had to make a fool of yourself in front of everyone." He just really didn't like his role to be honest. "Oberon, king of fairies my ass." He rolls his eyes. He liked Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, but he wouldn't want to be apart of the play. "They're gonna make me wear a stupid wig and a stupid costume," He keeps ranting on about how he doesnt want to be in the play until you reach home. "Sweetie, you'll do just fine." You kiss his cheek and unbuckle your seatbelt. Anakin groans and throws his head back. "Whatever you say, I guess.."

The next morning, he picked you up from your house like always. "Hi!" you greet with a smile, opening the door. "Hey beautiful," he smiles back and kisses your cheek once you settle in. "I like your hair." He compliments. A cute ponytail with a bow in the back. "You always say that." "Well, cause I always like your hair." He shrugs. "I like that you dress up, making yourself look pretty."

Entering the gates at school, you're greeted by a couple of girls you have classes with. You smile and wave. A lot of people you passed by said hi, actually. You were really shy in middle school and hated it. So when you reached 9th grade, you forced yourself out of it—making friends in every class, talking to friends of friends (that became your friends), not being scared to talk to upperclassmen or people you had to work in a group with (you get the picture.)

Anakin liked to show up 30 minutes before the bell rang so that he could help you with your homework that he already knew you didn't do last night. And by helping, really, he did most of it himself. He would get frustrated when you said the wrong answer too many times, so he would give up and say: "Let me just solve it for you. We're running out of time." It was never rude, either. Yeah, it was obvious he was getting frustrated, but he was still nice about it.

The classroom you stayed in was your first period. He didn't have one, so he stayed in the classroom with you. He had your teacher last year and she really liked him and knew she could trust him, so she let him stay. He wouldn't talk much because he wanted you to focus. He would either finish his assignments from other classes, talk to you when you finished your work, help you with your work, or scroll on his phone.

Your friends would join your table, pulling in chairs to do the work with you or just to chit-chat and not do the assignment. Anakin didn't really care if you didn't focus everyday on your assignments because he was more than happy to help (do it for you) because what use would his brain be if he didn't help his gorgeous girlfriend on her assignment?

He actually joined in on the conversations at times. Giving your friends a guys perspective on situations with their boyfriends/guys they talked to. Your friends absolutely adored Anakin. He was always respectful and helpful. Not just with boys, but with their assignments. He explained perfectly, leading them to a good grade.

—

His friends were smart, but not as smart as him. Anakin likes to surround himself with people who arent idiots, not people who arent funny and dont know how to have fun—actual idiots. Anakin thinks the kids who don't actually try in class are so stupid. He doesn't like them. Kids who stayed on their phone and got mad when they were taken away, the ones who would constantly ask "Are my eyes red?!" after one hit of a pen, those who asked for answers after not even trying to pay attention, idiots.

Anakins friends are some of the funniest guys you know. You talked to them here and there before dating Anakin, but now you were actually friends with them. They weren't the guys who made racist jokes to make you laugh or the ones to do something really stupid to impress a girl. They were genuinely funny, and so was Anakin. He has a great sense of humor.

One thing you really like about Anakin is that he's not overly clingy. He doesn't need to be with you everyday and every hour of the day. Some days he'll hangout with his friends at lunch and pass by you, offering a wave and smile and then go back to talking with his friends. He doesn't always text "Wyd?" which is the BEST because sometimes you just want to be left alone so you can watch videos or tv shows.

—

For the upcoming play, you were working with tech in the back, but when his practice buddy isnt there or when the girl who played Oberons wife was absent, you took their place. He said he hated this role but the way he was putting his all into it said otherwise. He put even more effort when you were practicing with him.

When the first opening night happened, he did such a great job. Everyone enjoyed his preformance. But then again, your schools plays were always top tier, so they were always enjoyed anyway. Yes, he did great on the other two showings as well.

Drama was actually becoming his 2nd favorite class. Calculus is his first.. #NERD!

Anakin likes singing. He also has a very nice voice. He sings A LOT when he's home alone. When your drama teacher mentioned that she was planning to do a musical (West Side Story) Anakin was excited. He auditioned for the role of Tony and he BEGGED you to go for Maria. He promised that he would help you with the singing and all the lines.. and you gave in. for the sake of this thing you both got the roles of Tony and Maria. That preformance was also really loved by the crowd in the auditorium.

—

• Anakin likes to dress in jeans and a nice button-up most of the time. He always smells nice and his hair is always gelled. GREAT hygiene. A t-shirt here and there never hurt anyone. He's definitely the type to wear a puffer jacket without sleeves over a hoodie whem it gets cold.

• Another good thing about Anakin is that hes not insecure about you talking to other guys. He knows you love him. He knows you like to make friends and talk. Who cares if you're talking to a guy? You asked them for a pencil, not their hand in marriage.

• Hes such a romantic. Just because flowers, love notes/letters, hand-made gifts, buying you nice clothes, perfume and cute stuff he knows you like. He likes to spoil you. Loves to love you. You're his one and only. Not the type to have wandering eyes.

—

Taking Anakin to parties is hard. He always has an excuse. "I have homework to do," "I need to go to sleep early. I have something going on in the morning," "Im too tired," But you eventually caught on that he was just gonna stay in bed reading, playing games or actually napping. The reason he actually went this time was because he had no more excuses.

And guess what? He was having fun. He ran in to some of his friends and he messed around with them. Joking and laughing, playing games like jenga, twister and even drinking games.. woah.

"Oh my God babe," He drunkenly giggles, swinging an arm over your shoulder. "You will NOT believe what Terry just did." He continues giggling. "What did Terry do?" You ask him, smiling a little at his giggles. "Okay, get this.." He starts off but then makes eye contact with Terry from across the room. That made him forget what he was gonna say. He just started laughing like a maniac. "I'll-I'll be back!!" he says, still laughing and leaves with the group of boys.

"And I thought he was gonna be the one who would take care of your tonight." Terry's girlfriend smiles. "I've never seen him so.. giggly." She says. "Oh trust me, somehow hes still worse when its just me and him and hes not even drunk." You shake your head and take a sip of your drink.

Round 6 of Twister. Anakin has his hands and knees on the ground where hes suppsed to have them on the colors. His friends face was under him and they were shaking, almost falling because of how hard they were laughing. Anakins cheeks were flushed red and his glasses kept sliding down. Out of no where, a few football guys tackled the ones playing twister. They all play fought but decided to take it to the bouncy house outside.

Yes, a bouncy house. Whoever threw this party knows how to have fun.. even if it's a little childish. There were all these boys wrestling in the bouncy house. It was hilarious. They managed to flip it over and they were freaking out, having flashbacks to when they were kids doing this and their parents would get so mad about it.

Anakin was in there. He was screaming and yelling with his friends.. but still wrestling. It got so crazy and hot in there that they all took off their shirts. Someone yelled out "THATS SO GAY!" and at that moment, it went quiet inside there. "Aw man," "God forbid an 18 year old man to have fun," "But I have socks on!," "Im not even gonna remember this tomorrow so I dont care," All those boys were talking over eachother, discussing how this definitely isnt gay.

Then, someone else turned the bouncy house off, and it started deflating with everyone in there. All of them screamed and tripped over each other, trying to find the way out. You were SO glad you weren't in there to experience how hot and sweaty it must be.

The night was fun. A lot of dancing, guys still wresting, loud music (good music.. not the bad, boring remixes they play in clubs nowadays.) Anakin had sobered up a little by 1AM but his shirt was no where to be found. "Aw man.. my moms gonna kill me." He sighed.

He didn't remember ANYTHING that next afternoon. Yes, afternoon. He slept the whole morning. Well, not counting the times he had to wake up to throw up. "My head hurts so much.. what did you do to me?" He whines, throwing his arm over his forehead like a damsel in distress. At least he had fun last Friday night..

—

So many photos and videos were posted on peoples social medias, and Anakin was in a lot of them. He went viral on a few videos. He was SO embarrassed when he went to school and even his teachers were like "Hey kid, is this you?" and then they'd show him a video of him playing just dance YMCA.

"No.." he shook his head and went straight to his seat. He didnt talk to anyone but you and his friends that day. He acted so embarrassed around other people, even you.. but with his friends.. he was laughing about it and was down to do it again one day. He's totally going to someone graduation party to get drunk again.

ITS FUN TO STAY AT THE YYYYMCAAA

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaas-xo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw

[terriblyrenderedenigma]

On Transformers and Human soulmate tropes...

(i do personally attack starscream at the end, i'm sorry starscream lovers, i love him too, but he's just a sad, devious little guy.)

Just a little thought here, so, I love soulmate tropes. Depending on the plot, they can be really fun and take so many interesting paths as a medium used within storytelling, whether romantic or platonic.

But what i want to talk about specifically is Transformer x Human soulmate tropes. Like, you have this super sweet side to it where the bot can be like 'I have waited my entire life to find you, finally, I can hold you in my arms and we never have to part again'. Depending on the character/story/type of SM (soulmate, shortening it because I'm not gonna keep writing it out) trope of course.

Can I just say how...instrumentally fucked this is though? So you have this race of robots who live for, what is essentially millennia out in the wild unless they catch the smoke. Their soulmate ends up being this little creature that lives for 80, maybe 100 years tops before dying. -Unless we're going for some kind of mind switch body type thing, but we all know how that went with spike in g1.

Our beloved robo blorbos will eventually have to cope with the fact that their soulmate, the person or creature they're MEANT to be with via laws of the universe, will die a LOT sooner than they will.

This especially hits hard with the decepticons who, depending on continuity -- hate humanity already. Bots who've gone through so much, losing their home, friends, and their dignities; have to learn to put up with and accept this creature as their fated mate/spouse/conjux endura, whatever you want to call it- SOULMATE.

Then the decepticons just have to deal with the fact that they're going to lose this person too, just like they've already lost everything else and oh GOD. Maybe they choose to forget about them and move on, stay alone and mourn what could have been if the universe hadn't had such a fucked sense of humor. Maybe they choose to accept it, but never let their SM too close because they know they'll just be hurt so much more hurt when the inevitable comes.

Then you have to think about decepticons having to possibly protect their SM from other cons! From being taken and 'saved' by the autobots.

Imagine some bots or cons just flying off the handle, going crazy just to try and keep their human alive in any way they possibly can, afraid of running out of time.

(Starscream lovers forgive me for the angst)

And Starscream especially, Maybe he'd try. He'd have a great time, take a chance, and give it a go. But what if he's actually terrified? Maybe he'd also self sabotage a little, knowing the relationship will never last too long anyways; not in the short blink of time it would be next to his life. Maybe, he doesn't actually know what to do with himself in a positive relationship after being, i dunno, consistently dogged on by megatron and he freezes.

There's something actually good for him, and since he isn't sure how to receive or accept that fact, he's gone. And maybe he'll come back, but the cycle could repeat.

(Im sorry, unless you put a tracker on him and call his ass and really give him some therapy. get him some god damn therapy.)

But yeah. All around, the angst potential is immense for this stuff and it makes me sad to think about so I thought i would share it instead of just write about it in an actual fic because my character analysis and ability to comprehend my own thoughts is so shit.

Okay, CIAOOOOOO~

[xoxochb]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ big shoutout to my favorite book boyfriends!