#new years twilight drabble | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

willowser · 2 months ago

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geto suguru x f!reader wc: 6.4k+ tags: sci-fi au—tbh i leaned into the cyberpunk futurism thing again i can't help myself 💀, suguru's job is never explicitly mentioned but hopefully you get the gist, he's also a bit scary but i think that's normal ?? idk hehe thank you thank you thank you to dear @rabbbitseason for allowing me to write this ! it's my first time with him 🥹 i hope it's okay ! very grateful for all your support 🥹

ONE

On the night you meet Suguru, an outage swallows the bar in one gulp.

No flicker, just a snap and everything cuts. The holosign outside dies in a whine of static, fans grind to a halt, light collapses, and you're left standing in the dark, holding a tray of warm glasses in hands that suddenly feel too small.

It's disappointing, but nothing new. You’re used to this. Your part of town doesn’t scream when the power goes out—it just sighs.

There’s a rustle near the door. Not the scrambling kind, not like the usual patrons stumbling out to smoke and curse the grid; it’s measured, heavy boots on concrete, too slow to be familiar.

This part of town isn't kind, even to someone it's grown. You step behind the counter in preparation for something—anything.

The figure comes into view in pieces—at first, just a tall silhouette framed by the dim spill of emergency glow leaking in from the street, but then he steps closer, and you see him: all in black, lean and broad-shouldered, his coat trailing like a shadow that's grown too long. The emergency light catches in his eyes, plum; dark and sharp and sweet.

You try not to stare. He probably notices anyway.

"Power out everywhere, or just here?" His voice is low, silk wrapped around steel. Calm in the way that makes you wary.

You shrug, but aren't sure he sees it. "Whole block, I think."

He hums, like that tells him something, and you reach below the counter to fumble for the old lantern. It flickers to life, casting amber light across the counter and his face. He’s handsome—suddenly so—but there’s something else. Something in the way he stands, relaxed but alert, like a man used to being watched.

You clear your throat. "Can still serve you something, if you're not picky. Got a few bottles that don't need cooling."

He smiles, slow and deliberate. One strand of his long black hair has come loose from the tight bun at the back of his head, and it swings slightly as he leans closer.

"Something warm, then," he says, not looking at the bottles. He’s looking at you.

You nod and turn, shoulders rising as you reach for the chipped ceramic pot. The movement’s an excuse to hide, give you a moment to settle the uneven flutter in your chest. You’re not used to being looked at like that. Not with focus. Not with intention.

The power’s out, but the pot’s still warm from before the lights went. You kept it wrapped in a thermal sleeve—old habit from long nights, colder ones. You pour the tea slow, steady, hoping your hands don’t shake as much as they feel they might. The silence thickens around you, too many shadows in too little space.

When he speaks again, his voice is low and steady, curling around edges in the dark. “City’s quieter with the lights out.”

You don’t answer right away, letting the sound of tea against ceramic fill the gap. Letting the heat of the cup chase back the chill climbing your fingers. “It’s always loud,” you say finally. “Just changes the kind.”

He makes a soft sound—agreement, maybe. Or understanding. Or neither. “No neon, no noise,” he says, more to the air than to you. “Funny how much the city depends on its own distractions.”

You slide the cup across the bar. He doesn’t reach for it right away, just watches the steam coil upward, like he’s waiting for something to reveal itself.

“I like it better this way, feels…cleaner, I guess.” You say, and it's true; this part of town isn't kind, no, but without the automated glitz and glamour, there's no need to pretend.

You hear the soft shift of fabric as he leans in—not close enough to touch, but closer than before. His presence hums against the edges of your awareness.

“You’re not scared of the dark?” he asks, voice smooth, teasing. His smile is wide, charming, disarms you in a way that it shouldn't.

You hesitate, trying to bite back your growing timidness. “Only when it’s creepy,” you say, "when it creaks or breathes back at me.”

That makes him huff, amused. Not quite a laugh, but close enough. “So, no ghosts in here?”

“Well, yeah, we have those,” you shrug, “They just mind their business.”

That pulls something out of him, something real and small that feels like a reward. “Interesting bar,” he continues, finally reaching for the tea. “Do you see much traffic here?”

You keep your face still. “Some.”

“Travelers?”

You nod, wary of where this is going, though nothing in his tone gives anything away. Not pushy, not prying. Just drifting. “People passing through,” you say. “They come. They leave. Same as anywhere.”

He sips. There’s something practiced in the way he does it. Measured, like he’s used to watching, used to waiting. “This part of the district,” he says after a beat, “doesn’t get much patrol. No official presence. Doesn’t that bother you?”

You shrug. “They never helped much anyway.”

Another pause. Another small pull of his attention. You realize too late how much you're giving away, when you see the thought behind his eyes, whatever he's cataloging for whatever reason, but he doesn't press it.

“Sometimes the places with the least oversight are the ones that know best how to take care of their own,” he says, almost like a proverb.

You nod. You’ve learned to let silences hold the things you don’t want to voice.

He drinks again, not watching you now, not exactly, but still aware of you. His presence wraps around the room like heat—delicate, thick, hard to ignore. You wonder if he’s just a traveler; surely not, with how handsome he is, how subtly elegant, the way he speaks. You wonder what he’s really looking for.

The thought doesn't go farther than that before a stool screeches from the back of the bar. Not the clean scrape of someone careful, but the lazy sprawl of someone who thinks the world owes him the space and time.

Jogo has been here since before the outage, hunched in the far corner like he’s part of the decor—one of the peeling posters or half-lit neon strips that doesn’t work right anymore. You should’ve made him leave with the others. You didn’t. You never do.

“Still no power?” His voice lurches into the dim, louder than necessary, too smug. “Place like this, surprised it had any to begin with.”

You press your palm flat to the bar. Not in fear—just to keep still. Shame flickers inside of you at the insult, a small flame, ever-burning; no pretending in the dark, no pretending you and your handsome stranger could be from the same world.

Jogo gets up, boots thudding against the composite floor. “Surprised you’re still running this place at all. Must get real lonely in here, huh?”

The sound of his approach stretches the silence thin. You don’t answer. Words feed men like him; it's always best to let them starve.

He stops at the bar, leans in with that breath like rot and synth-spice. “What’s wrong? Cat got your—”

He sees Suguru—who you don't know is Suguru, not yet—still half-sitting, one elbow resting on the counter like he’s got all the time in the world. Jogo must not have noticed him in the shadows before, but now he has, after the air has changed around him, gone colder, thinner. Like the room is holding its breath, too.

Suguru lifts his gaze to Jogo, calm as still water. "She’s busy," he says, voice smooth enough to be polite, but not a bit friendly. "Maybe try saying what you need without spitting."

The smile he wears is soft. Mannered, almost pleasant, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Jogo blinks, tries to laugh. It dies somewhere in his throat. “Didn’t mean anything by it,” he mutters, suddenly smaller. “Gonna smoke.”

He turns on his heel and stumbles out, too fast to be casual, too slow to be brave, and the door hisses shut behind him. The silence returns, heavier than before—but gentle, too. You breathe, slow, and let your hand drift from the counter. Suguru hasn’t moved.

When you risk a glance, he's watching you, eyes like dusk, plum-dark and unreadable, but not cruel, not smug; observant. Like he's measuring the weight of the moment and choosing not to tip it.

“Didn’t mean to bring any problems with me,” he says, voice low, dry with something like an apology.

You shake your head, smiling reflexively. “No problems, just finicky ghosts.”

He smiles, enough to show his teeth, and something sour in you eases, recedes. “That so?”

You nod once. It feels like the right answer.

He leans back again, and the moment should pass, but it doesn’t. Not really. The bar settles around you both like the world has exhaled, but there’s still something coiled in the space between you, waiting. Watching. Becoming.

TWO

Suguru comes and goes like a rumor—whispers first, then footsteps, then silence.

You don’t know what Suguru does, or what he has to do to come back. He doesn’t tell you, and you don’t ask—not because you don’t care, but because some part of you already knows it’s nothing soft. Whatever world he disappears into when he’s not here, it stains his silence, lingers in the way his eyes avoid yours when he’s too tired to pretend he’s fine. It sits between you like something alive and untouchable, a quiet, clawed thing neither of you dare disturb.

Sometimes he brings strange gifts—tokens you don’t understand, bought in currencies you’re sure you never want to learn. Once or twice, he shows up with that white-haired menace in tow, loud and too tall for your doorway, trying too hard to be funny and laughing like he owns the air.

But most of the time, it’s just Suguru, and the rain.

He comes when he wants to, leaves without warning, watches you too long sometimes, like he’s memorizing the shape of your silence. Like there’s something he wants from you but doesn’t know how to hold without breaking. And still, he never says why he comes, and, still, you never ask him to stay.

But the space between those two things—what you don’t say and what he won’t admit—is shrinking.

In the morning, you stir—bones stiff, muscles whispering their usual complaints—and the city mutters back outside your window, indifferent. Your apartment is still, small, the kind of place that remembers everything you’ve ever done in it, that won't let you forget.

You don’t want to wake up, but your body doesn’t care what you want. You shift, stretch, dreams still clinging to your lashes like cobwebs—and then you hear it: soft, wrong, from the kitchen.

And that easily, you’re no longer alone.

It only takes a breath for your nerves to remember themselves. You already know who it is. No need to ask.

The air has changed. Sweet, smoky, with something metallic curling at the edge; sharp, familiar, a memory you didn't have to invite back in. He’s here, Suguru, and of course he’s made himself at home again, like this place was carved to fit him and not the other way around.

The clock says six. Early, but time doesn’t mean anything to Suguru; he isn’t ruled by it, doesn’t bend to it. He arrives when he wants, leaves when he’s done, and you—you just let him.

The floor is cold beneath your feet. Not just icy—artificial, indifferent, the kind of chill that comes from old synth-tiling, worn thin by time and use. In the corner, your heater clicks to life with a tired hum, flickers once, then settles into its usual half-hearted wheeze. It’s trying, and failing, just like every other morning.

Suguru’s already steeped in the hush of the kitchen, the shadows wrapped around him like old friends. He doesn’t turn, just moves, slow and precise and controlled, the way he always does—tea, window, silence—and your exhaustion finds you again, soft and sudden. You should be used to this—used to him—but surprise has a way of wearing new faces; even the expected can weigh heavy.

His voice cuts through the morning, low and smooth. “Good morning.”

You rub at your eyes, suddenly too aware of yourself. Of the old pajamas clinging to your skin, the sleep still dragging at your limbs, the way your hair’s decided it has a mind of its own. Bare, vulnerable things.

Your words are dry, meant to sound casual. “Back so soon?”

He glances back, just enough. Eyes finding you like they were made to—slow, deliberate, full of something unreadable that still manages to see too much. You catch the shape of his smile in them before it ever touches his mouth.

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”

His ease scratches at something inside you. Not longing, not quite, something worse, maybe, that doesn’t have a clean name. The kind that slips into your throat and settles there. Every time he comes like this, unannounced, unbothered, it’s like he leaves part of his shadow stitched into your space when he's gone.

You sigh, slow and shallow, trying to collect your thoughts before they show on your face. “No Gojo this time?”

His name lands heavy in the room: Gojo—noisy, untouchable, always dragging storms in behind him. You already know the answer; if he’d come, it would have been obvious, because the walls would still be vibrating. He’s never hidden the disgust in his mouth when he talks about this place, your dirty little corner of the star-system, as if it's a smudge on Suguru’s reputation. Shame and relief crawl into your chest together and sit there, when Suguru shakes his head.

“He can handle things on his own every now and then.” A pause. A glance. “Don’t tell me you miss him.”

Your laugh breaks out too fast, too sharp. It’s loud and uglier than you want it to be, but real, the way everything Suguru drags out of you is.

He turns fully at the sound and steam curls from the mug in his hand, held like an offering. He doesn’t speak, just smiles—that Suguru smile. The kind that knows too much. The kind that doesn’t need words to press against you. His presence settles like warmth between you—just enough heat to stay. Just enough to forget it will burn when it leaves. You take the mug, fingers brushing his, barely, and he steps aside.

And then you see it.

A package on the counter no larger than your hand, plain brown paper folded with precision, sharp corners and clean edges and neatly tied with a band of thin copper wire.

You eye it warily. It looks expensive. More than that—it looks deliberate. That kind of care—small, quiet, meticulous—is more him than any signature. You feel it in your chest before your brain can catch up. No one else wraps things like that. Not in this city. Not for you.

“What's this?” you ask, already knowing he won’t answer the question directly.

Suguru just slides it toward you quietly.

You pick it up slowly, running your fingers along the cool surface. The band slips off with a soft click, revealing beneath the paper a slim e-journal—compact, beautifully made. The kind sold by back-alley specialists who don’t advertise but somehow always have a waiting list. The kind you’ve lingered near before, just to stare. A soft hum rises from it as the display lights up with a warm, golden pulse. Your name flickers in the top corner, small and elegant.

You blink. “These aren’t easy to get.”

Suguru doesn’t respond right away. His eyes flick to yours, unreadable. “You said your old one was glitching.”

You can’t even remember when you said that. Weeks ago, maybe, in passing. You doubt you even meant for him to hear it.

Your chest tightens, that odd pull of gratitude and disbelief tangling behind your ribs. You press your thumb against the screen, watching it open to a clean interface—blank pages, empty folders, but one tab already labeled: Home.

"Suguru…" you start, voice shaky, barely pushing past your throat.

He just tilts his head slightly, smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t mention it.”

The journal hums gently in your hands, in response. It’s light, sleek, and somehow heavier than it should be. A gift like that isn’t about what it is, not with him, it’s about the way he remembers. The way he’s been gone for weeks, and yet, when he returns, he still knows exactly what you need.

You keep your eyes on the journal even after the screen fades to black, the glow slowly dimming beneath your fingertips. It feels like the only thing anchoring you, like if you let go too quickly, the quiet swell of feeling might show on your face.

He’s here. He brought you something. He thought of you.

And you like the way that feels. You don’t hate it—not at all. You’re just shy about the way it wants to spill over. You’re not sure what he’d do if it showed too obviously, but from the way he’s watching you, eyes half-lidded and amused, maybe he already knows.

You squish your lips together, trying to tide back your smile. “You know, I was managing just fine with my ancient, barely-functioning piece of junk.”

Suguru hums, warm and buttery. “Mm. I noticed.”

“I was!”

“You say that, but I watched you slap the screen four times just to open the calendar.”

“It still worked.”

He lifts a shoulder in a slow shrug, like the act of teasing you is something luxurious, a taste he wants to savor. “Barely.”

The air feels lighter already. You’re still holding the journal—still feeling the warmth of its casing, still tracing its smooth edge with your thumb like it might disappear if you let go.

You move to the kettle to keep yourself from lingering too long in your thoughts. The tea’s already ready, still warm in its ceramic pot. You pour him a cup without asking—it’s second nature by now—and the motion steadies you.

When you pass it to him, your fingers brush again. This time, the contact lingers just a little longer than it should, and you pretend not to notice how your breath catches in your throat. You don't dare meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” Suguru says, voice softer now. How many times will you have to say it back before you're even?

You nod once, keeping your arms folded loosely across your chest. “You didn’t have to bring anything, you know that, right?”

“I know.” He blows gently across the rim of the cup before adding, “but I wanted to.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. The steam from his tea curls upward, catching the low light spilling through the window behind him. His expression is unreadable—somewhere between patient and quietly pleased. And it settles deeper than you expect it to.

“Well,” you say, small this time, “it’s nice. You’ve officially outdone yourself.”

Suguru leans beside you, shoulder brushing yours as he shifts. His presence is always heavy, but now it feels warm, grounding. “I’ll try not to make a habit of it.”

You let out a breathy scoff. “Liar.”

His mouth curves, a small, knowing smile. “Maybe.”

The silence that follows stretches—not tense this time, but gentle. Lived-in. The kind that doesn’t demand anything from either of you. Just... a moment shared. A stillness made from something softer than what this world usually offers.

When you finally look over again, he’s already watching you—eyes dark, but not distant.

This time, you don’t look away so quickly.

And for a second, everything feels suspended: his hand cradling the tea, the warmth of his shoulder against yours, the soft click of the journal as it powers down completely. The hush of the kitchen wraps around you like a secret, and you let yourself stay there just a little longer than you should.

THREE

Something eats away at him.

You don’t notice it at first—he’s always been distant, unreadable in ways that feel deliberate—but something shifts. Subtle at first, then sharp as a crack beneath ice.

Whenever the mask slips, Suguru speaks in riddles. About rot. About weakness. About the way curses cling to people like smoke in their lungs. Suguru never says what he means outright, but you start to understand that what he hunts is no longer just out there: it's in him now, settling deep. You’ve always been afraid to ask where he goes, what he does in the stretch between his visits—but one day, something starts ticking inside you, soft and slow, like a countdown. And you know you have to ask, soon, before the poison spreads.

He comes in just after midnight; a whisper of the stairwell, the slow press of the door, the scent of cold air and blood and rain. The room bends with his presence, drawn to him like gravity to a star, but tonight he is no source of light. Now he swallows it whole.

For a long, terrible moment, he simply stands there, tall, broad-shouldered, soaked through the folds of his coat. Hair down, black and heavy, falling like a curtain, hiding more than it shows. You don't speak. You don't want to fill up any more of the space than you have to.

Suguru crosses the room like a man half-remembering the shape of it, as though he’s not really here, not yet. His eyes skim the walls, the ceiling, the half-empty cup on the counter like it’s all unfamiliar, like he’s unsure whether he’s still dreaming.

He finds the edge of your bed—an altar he has never bowed to—and sits slow, deliberate. The same way someone eases into the bath after a long battle.

The silence feels brittle, glass under pressure. His hands are braced on his knees, fingers twitching, opening and closing like he’s trying to hold something he can’t quite name.

“Did you eat?” you ask, because you don’t know what else to say.

His gaze flicks to you. Something unreadable in the dark plum of his eyes, bruised purple, shadowed and strange.

“No,” he says. Then adds, almost like an afterthought: “I'm not hungry.”

You don't care if that's true or not. You have to do something with your hands, offer comfort made just for him, even if it's instant and simple and comes from a packet—but before you can leave the room, he asks:

"Do you think people are born evil?"

He’s not looking at you. Just at the floor, at the space between his boots, like the question fell out of him without permission.

“I don’t know,” you say softly, and it's true—you don't.

You never had time to wonder about things like good and evil, never had the luxury. Your choices were simpler, narrower. How to keep the lights on. How to make enough for the next meal. How to stay whole in a place that’s always trying to carve pieces from you.

But this—this is a crack in his armor, and through it you see the shape of his world. A world built on consequences, on lines drawn and crossed again. You wonder who you’d be if your life asked those kinds of questions, if every choice you made had to hold up under the weight of whether it was right or simply necessary.

Suguru looks up—and in that moment, he’s someone else. A snake in the grass, coiled so tight you hadn’t noticed his presence until too late. He remains seated on the edge of the bed, and you’re still standing, but the distance between you feels like a black hole, sucking you in; it doesn’t give you control, doesn’t make you feel safe.

“What if I told you they were evil? Would you believe me?”

The question hangs in the air, sharp and unsettling. You don’t like the way he asks—don’t like any part of it, truthfully, but this, especially, settles under your skin like a stain that won’t wash out. It makes you wonder if he’s lied to you. If he’s been playing you all along, smiling just long enough to hide the knife in his hand, to keep you from seeing the truth.

Suguru has always unnerved you, in ways you never quite could face. From when he stepped into your bar, drifting in from the dark street outside, bathed in the emergency lighting. Like a warning you were blind to.

Since he walked into your apartment tonight, his attention has been scattered, drifting through the room like smoke, but now it’s all on you. You thought you wanted it, thought you could handle it, but now, under the weight of his gaze, you feel like prey. His focus presses on you, slow and deliberate, until every breath feels too shallow. When he rises from the edge of your bed, you step back, head bumping into the wall of your cramped room. The space between you disappears with one swift motion, and suddenly, he’s right there—close, too close.

"Would you kill them if I told you to?"

The question hits you before you’ve even had a chance to form an answer. You shake your head, words bubbling out in a rush, helpless. "I don't know."

"If I told you they were born wrong, would you kill them?"

You don’t know. The answer drips out, thick and slow, but it's the truth. "I don't know."

"If I told you they were little demons, twisted and demented, brought nothing but death and ruin—would you kill them? Even if they were young?"

You can’t answer anymore. The question feels unceasing, endless, like it’s reaching beyond you. His eyes, once dark and intense, have gone empty—hollow like a well. You don’t know if he’s even still looking at you, if he sees you at all.

Then, you notice it—blood. Slowly seeping through the chest of his white shirt, dark and damp, spreading like ink across the fabric. The realization hits you harder than anything he’s said, because there’s truth in it: something has collapsed inside him, something broken that you couldn’t stop.

“Y—you’re bleeding.” The words sound too small, too stupid, leaving your mouth like an afterthought, but he's still so close, close enough that you could count the long, dark lashes of his closed eyes when he blinks—and something flickers across his face. A snap, and then everything cuts.

His expression barely changes from that haunted look, but his voice is steady when he says, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” The words leave you with more force than you expect, anger flickering beneath the surface of your worry. You latch onto it, grounding yourself with it, needing something to steady you against the unease crawling up your spine. “You’re hurt and you didn’t tell me.”

Suguru straightens, settling back onto his feet, back into his bones. It should be terrifying, how familiar he seems in that moment, how quickly he slips back into himself, but you're so desperate to get him away from that horror that you don't care.

His voice is sharper now, edged with something close to irritation. “Was I meant to?”

“You could’ve said you were bleeding.”

“It’s not new.”

“It’s new to me.”

That stops him. The space between now and the last time you saw him flickers behind his eyes—not like before, not like a wound he couldn’t name, but something else. A fact. A shared recognition: That was then. This is now. He is not whoever he was then. Not here. Not with you.

He closes his eyes, eventually. Breathes out a quiet sound, almost a hum. “It is,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

But he doesn’t step back. Doesn’t give you the space to go. There’s no hand on your wrist, no body blocking your path—but you know, with a kind of terrible clarity, that you couldn’t pull away from him right now, even if you tried.

It can’t be life-threatening, you realize, now that your heart isn’t pounding so loudly in your ears. Not a picked scab, but not a torn stitch either; the blood looks worse than it is, startling against the clean white of his shirt, thin and vibrant where it crosses in straight, resolute lines. In better lighting, you might have been able to see through the soaked fabric. You’re not sure that would do either of you any good.

The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, something so profoundly unlike him it feels like a slip in character, and the pale glimpse of his collarbones is distracting, delicate in a way you hadn't expected. You shouldn't be looking, but it's hard not to. Enticing in a way that pulls gently at your attention, makes your breath catch for reasons you don't want to examine, not with him so close. You almost can’t stop staring, can’t help but wonder what else you’re missing—until the corner of his mouth twitches. Barely, but enough.

You clear your throat and press your spine against the wall, like it might make more space between you. It doesn't. "How recent is ‘not new’?”

“Weeks,” Suguru says, casually—so easily it startles you. You’ve never talked about his work before, and you’re still not, not really, but you’re closer now than you’ve ever been, in too many ways. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine now,” you say, not quite believing it. His smile tightens, enough that it reaches the corners of his eyes, though you wouldn't call it warm.

And then his hand moves. Slow, deliberate, like he’s afraid of startling you. His fingers rise until they hover beside your face, and when they finally make contact—just the backs of his knuckles brushing your cheek—it’s featherlight. Reverent. It’s not possessive, not even asking; it’s a question in the shape of a touch, and somehow you already know the answer is yes. The air between you grows impossibly still, as if the world stopped turning just to see what you'll do next.

Your heart stumbles. You’ve never seen him like this—not the version that walks in shadows, not the one who smiles like a blade—but something else. Something stripped down and aching. It terrifies you how badly you want him to stay.

His eyes don’t leave yours. They could lie, but they don’t. "Yes," he says, "I'm fine now."

FOUR

Not much time passes, surprisingly.

Days, maybe a week or two, though time stretches differently when you're waiting for something—or someone—you’re afraid won’t come back.

Outside, the neon gutters spit their color against the wet pavement. The air smells like ozone, like the sky’s about to split open again. Maybe it will. You wouldn’t mind. Rain makes everything seem farther away. The night is nearly over; you’ve wiped the counters twice, swept the floor even though no one spilled anything, stacked the chairs with a little more force than necessary. You move slower than you need to, hands lingering on small tasks just to stay busy, just to keep from looking at the door.

The place is quiet—finally—and you welcome it.

Suguru left as he always has: without reason. Something has changed, yes, but still, he left you in the same shape he always does—like the world has flipped itself inside out. He never leaves without unmaking something. Every return, every departure, carves a new gap into you. They don’t heal. You don’t even notice they’re there until you're trying to stand still and find you can't—until gravity presses in wrong, sideways, like it's trying to fold you in half.

You've never seen him that way, so unraveled. It's been replaying in your head on repeat, unending: what if I told you they were evil? Would you believe me? Sometimes you think you should’ve said yes. Not because you would believe it, but because maybe—just maybe—he would’ve stayed, but that thought brushes up against something inside of you that’s cold and rotten and not meant to be touched. It makes your stomach twist. You don't like who you are in that version of the story.

You tell yourself, maybe it's for the best that he's done, that he doesn't come back—but the thought feels distant, like it doesn't belong to you. Like it doesn't belong to him, either.

You don’t hear the door open, but you feel it, a shift in pressure, like the world exhaling. You turn just as he steps inside, though it's not quite the same as before; his hair is down again, though only half-way, not the wild ink-spill it was before, and his shoulders seem more relaxed, like he’s shed whatever that unseen weight was. He’s not walking with that same tight, controlled confidence; this is different, lighter, somehow, but there’s still something about him, something sharp behind the soft way he moves.

And he's not alone.

Two little girls are with him, though they haven't moved from the door, haven't commanded the space as he has. They're just watching. One of them has her arms crossed tight like a shield, the other clutches something—maybe a toy, maybe a scrap of cloth—pressed to her chest like it might anchor her. Both of their eyes seem too old for their small, round faces.

It's been playing in your head on repeat, unending: would you kill them? Even if they were young?

You stand there, unsure of what to say. The silence stretches, taut as a wire, until his voice cuts through it.

“It’s quiet tonight,” he says, lightly. Too lightly. Like he’s trying to smooth the air between you, pretend nothing’s changed. Maybe it’s for the girls’ sake. Maybe it’s for yours.

You open your mouth. Close it again. A question rises and flattens against your tongue. You don’t ask. He doesn’t offer. But that’s always been your dance, hasn’t it? The space between what’s said and what’s not.

He follows your gaze, then crosses the bar to stand in front of you. In front of them. “I’m tired,” he says, quiet and sharp. “Of that world, of the filth it feeds on. Of fools who think hurting someone small makes them strong.”

That word—small—lands like a dropped glass; the question you never asked answers itself, shattering quietly between you.

Suguru lifts his hand to your face, like he did the last time—but now the gesture is different. Looser. No tremble at the edges, no hesitation, as if he’s no longer afraid he might break whatever he touches.

His thumb grazes the arch of your brow, traces down to the soft skin beneath your eye. You think—maybe—he’s counting your lashes.

“I want them to live in a world that’s better than ours,” he murmurs, barely louder than a breath. “Safer.”

You've always thought Suguru was built from something other. Something finer, sharper, less breakable. A different species from whatever you are, clinging to the bottom rungs in your corner of the world, but now, up close, that divide feels thinner. Imagined.

You don’t know where he came from, not really, but you know where he is now. You’ve seen the edges of it, the pieces he hasn’t named and maybe never will, and they’re ugly. Embedded like grit beneath his fingernails, worn into the quiet lines of his face. Ghosts clinging to the hem of his voice.

You’re not the same. But there’s something unkind that lives in you both. Something heavy, and tired, and human. Something he wants to cut out—for their sake.

You glance back at the girls. They’re clinging to each other now, as if the world might fall out from under them at any moment, and the only thing they trust to hold is each other. Their small hands are tangled in fabric, sleeves bunched in fists, pressed so close they breathe as one. The sight turns something in your gut—sharp, instinctive, like a wire pulled too tight.

The thought that someone, anyone, had wanted to hurt them—had tried—makes your throat close. Your body moves before your mind does and you lean into Suguru’s touch. Maybe it’s deliberate, maybe it’s not, but his hand doesn’t hesitate. His fingers drift into your hair, curling there like a root finding soil, like he belongs.

For a moment, neither of you speak. You don’t have to. The quiet stretches, warm and fragile.

Then, softly—barely above a whisper—you say, “I don’t know where you’re going to find a place like that.”

Because you don’t. You’ve lived your whole life in the dirt of this city, in the cracks of what people like to pretend is order. You’ve never been offworld, never even dreamed of it, but you’ve heard enough to know there’s no such place waiting out there, not one untouched, not one that won’t eat girls like those alive the moment you look away.

Suguru hums, low in his chest. The sound rumbles through his fingers where they rest against your scalp.

“I’m not going to find it,” he says, quiet but certain. “I’m going to make it.”

And when he says it, you believe him. Maybe not in the way of miracles, but in the way storms believe in rain. His hand lingers in your hair a moment longer, then slides down, slow, catching at your jaw, your cheek. He doesn’t move away. You don’t either.

Behind you, one of the girls makes a soft noise on the tile, barely a scuff of her feet, but it tethers everything back to the moment. The realness of it. This isn’t a story. It’s a turning point.

Suguru glances toward them, then back at you. You're not used to seeing him like this, less worn, less closed off. Like the jagged edge he’s always carried has been tucked away for a moment of stillness.

“It's not going to be easy, and I’ll need someone who knows how to build things that last. Someone steady.”

He’s not smiling, but his eyes hold the weight of something close to it. Hopeful, uncertain, wanting. A line cast into a dark sea.

You could laugh, if it didn’t feel like your whole chest was shaking. There’s no question what he means. Not really.

The silence sits between you again, but it’s different now—waiting, watching. Becoming.

And when you speak, your voice is quiet, but it doesn’t tremble. “Someone like me,” you say.

Suguru's thumb brushes your cheek again, soft as a promise. “Exactly like you.”

#please don't judge my ugly banner i made it in 10 minutes just to have something up there WAH #also yeah it's decode like from the twilight soundtrack yeah it is #i hope i did this man justice he's so !! slippery !!#✿ willow writes #realizing i haven't written fic of this length in probably two years bc i drabble too much LOL #i feel like. a baby lamb. little deer. hello new world please be nice to me afhafhakfhafa

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 2 months ago

Text

──── ୨୧ 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘 ᯓ★

🍪 — hii my babies!! thank you for checking out my writing! i hope you enjoy it and if you did, dont forget to send feedback!

✮ 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞: ( ☕ ) angst , ( 🤎 ) fluff, ( 🧸 ) humor, ( 📜 ) suggestive ˎˊ˗

𝐎𝐓𝟖

SERIES

music to my eyes (collab w/ @sunnysdiary)

cookies just fucking write event in honor my writers block

cookies 1 year anniversary ask game (time capsule drabbles)

HEADCANNONS

small acts of love from skz 「🤎」

skz as red flags 「☕」

skz as forms of art 「🤎」

FAKE TEXTS

the boys find out you have a cold

pulling the "shes busy" prank

asking the boys "would you love me if I was a worm?"

silly little dad!skz fake texts

jealous!bestfreind!skz telling the reader to not go on her date ◦ hyung line

jealous!bestfreind!skz telling the reader to not go on her date ◦ maknae line

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍・방찬

ONE SHOTS

nothing here....yet

DRABBLES

not the plot ꒰ 400 words ꒱ 「🤎」 ↴

during one of your cuddle sessions with bangchan, you realize that your relationship shares an odd resemblance to twilight—without the entire plot, of course.

you'd never let me fall ꒰ 900 words ꒱ 「🤎」 ↴

bangchan who carries you home while your a little drunk and your feet a lot a bit hurt.

FAKE TEXTS

while you were looking at him, i was looking at you ꒰ mini-series ꒱ 「🤎, ☕」 ↴

❝ secrets i have held in my heart. are harder to hide than i thought. ❞

𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖・리노

ONE SHOTS

so fuckin' stubborn ꒰ 1.5k words ꒱ 「 📜 」 ↴

there were two things in the world that challenged your intellectual ability one: ap us history and two: lee minho. what are you going to do when he catches you cheating, and grabs your thigh, forcing you to give him the answers too.

DRABBLES

sfw alphabet with minho ꒰ 2.7k words ꒱ 「 🤎 」 ↴

FAKE TEXTS

minho gets jealous watching the reader hand her customers cash 「🧸」 ↴

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍・창빈

ONE SHOTS

Nothing here...yet.

DRABBLES

Nothing here...yet.

FAKE TEXTS

🤎 asking out his gym crush

𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍・현진

ONE SHOTS

before and after ꒰ 1.4k words ꒱ 「🤎, ☕」 ↴

for months you have dealt with constant intrusive thoughts, wondering what life was like before your head was swarmed with anxiety—until one day, you wake up and it isn't your OCD that you remember—it's hyunjin. alternatively: you find hyunjin baking your favorite sweet treat and you fall even deeper in love with him.

DRABBLES

Nothing here...yet.

FAKE TEXTS

Nothing here...yet

𝐇𝐀𝐍・한

ONE SHOTS

doomsday ꒰ 1.4k words ꒱ 「🤎, ☕」 ↴

sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind. or alternatively: han yells at you after a hard day and has a panic attack because you distance yourself.

so baby, hold my hand now. ꒰ 1.5k words ꒱ 「🤎, ☕, 📜」 ↴

you don't think jisung cares about you enough to tell your fans you're dating, fucking. he proves you wrong when he pulls you in on stage, and kisses you in front of everyone.

DRABBLES

midnight madness ꒰ 839 words ꒱ 「🤎」 ↴

you help han shave after a long day, leading to kisses and confessions.

FAKE TEXTS

accidental love confession 「🤎,🧸」

teasing a shy han untill he accidentally confesses 「🤎,🧸」

𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗・필릭스

ONE SHOTS

laughter like honey dribbles ꒰ 1.2k words ꒱ 「🤎, 🧸, 📜」 ↴

an inexperienced felix tries to impress you by forcing his voice deeper. what do you do when it cracks mid-through?

hang the moon ꒰ 4.5k words ꒱ 「🤎」 ↴

going through the ages of time with felix, from when you told him you were pregnant to seeing him braid your baby's hair.

don't cry over spilled milk ꒰ 1.6k words ꒱ 「🤎, ☕」 ↴

accidents happen is an easy thing to say when your daughter didn't just dump a cup of milk on your husband's new black carpet and all of a sudden— you can't breathe

pretty like poetry ꒰ 2.7k words ꒱ 「🤎, ☕」 ↴

felix always tended to hate the freckles that adorned his face, believing they were blemishes that deserved to be hidden under layers of foundation, but what will he do when you convince him that his freckles were pretty—pretty like poetry?

eat your words ꒰ 2.3k words ꒱ 「📜」 ↴

in a spiral of whiskey-induced stupidity, you claim felix couldn't dominate you even if he tried—oh, how he's going to make you eat your words.

rewrite the ending ꒰ 1.6k words ꒱ 「🤎, ☕, 📜」 ↴

just once, let him rewrite the story; just once, he promises you will never have to watch the same ending again. ( reader with mommy issues let's felix poetically fuck the sadness out of her)

rewrite the ending in every lifetime ꒰ 8.1k words ꒱ 「🤎, ☕, 📜」 ↴

going through the ages of time with felix, no matter how many times your mother knocked you down, he was always there to pick you up—in every lifetime.

pink lemonade ꒰ 1.3k words ꒱ 「🤎」 ↴

felix had always dreamed of the day he could finally gather enough courage to kiss you. even in his wildest dreams, he never imagined it would be mid-sip of your pink lemonade.

DRABBLES

where the hell did you get that? ꒰ 898 words ꒱ 「🧸」 ↴

even after your bodyguard saved your life you insist that you don't need his help, maybe you feel a little different after he drops his weapon in the middle of a fight—and forces you to admit you need him.

you're like real?! ꒰ 723 words ꒱ 「🧸」 ↴

you never once thought you would meet lee felix, especially not while watching an edit of his abs

FAKE TEXTS

teasing a shy felix until he accidentally confesses 「🤎, 🧸」 ↴

silly little fake text scenario 「🤎,🧸」 ↴

𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍・승민

ONE SHOTS

Nothing here...yet.

DRABBLES

Nothing here...yet.

FAKE TEXTS

Nothing here...yet.

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍 - 정인

ONE SHOTS

Nothing here...yet.

DRABBLES

Nothing here...yet.

FAKE TEXTS

Nothing here...yet.

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midniqhtt · 1 year ago

Text

james buchanan ‘bucky’ barnes

masterlist • marvel • 07/08/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs two

one

�� jealousy and flirtation I @kinanabinks

There's nothing you want more than Bucky Barnes - but you and his best friend, Juniper, seem to have that in common.

𑣲 sesame and the sweetheart I @/kinanabinks

You've been on a few dates with Bucky now, and the sexual tension is at an all-time high. After another cute date, you realize you can't keep your hands off him for very much longer

𑣲 the sound of love I @/kinanabinks

𑣲 beneath the milky twilight pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 drabble I @bucksangel

Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation.

𑣲 give me a minute I @/bucksangel

𑣲 the spark I @/bucksangel

James Barnes, the bane of your existence, the man you swore to stay away from. Though his naturally good looks and charming smile may fool many of the women around you, you refuse to fall into his trap. It gets harder to do with every interaction you have with him, and when Bucky gets taken by Hydra, you're forced to face your feelings or risk losing him forever.

𑣲 until we meet again I @/bucksangel

The Blip changed everything and everyone. With Bucky now gone, and a toddler to raise, you find yourself leaning on Steve for support, as he does with you. What happens when, five years later, Bucky returns to find his best friend and best girl raising a kid? His kid.

𑣲 sniper I @adrinktostopyourthirst

Reluctantly, you get thrown into an assignment with Bucky and Yelena, but Bucky doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. When he's proven to be correct, it turns out you're still a hell of a good team.

𑣲 pride and privacy pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt7 I @/adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.

𑣲 don’t tell bucky I @lives-in-midgard

After a night out with Natasha and Wanda reader gets drunk and tells someone about her secret crush on Bucky.

𑣲 mine I @thestarkinternship

When you went out for drinks with the team one Friday, you had no idea that this was how the night would end: with your back pressed flush against your bedroom door, a shaking thigh hitched over your boyfriend's shoulder and his pretty mouth daring you to completely let go for everyone to hear.

𑣲 welcome home…soldat? pt2 pt3 pt4 I @winterarmyy

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' every time he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

𑣲 until then I @/winterarmyy

A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with.

𑣲 guess i’m just good with them I @amathslutsguidetofandom

𑣲 big, strong man I @/amathslutsguidetofandom

𑣲 unwanted I @scoonsalicious

When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn't be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

𑣲 sleepwalking I @lanadelreyscokewhor3

when your boyfriend bucky wakes up with the winter soldier mindest, you do the only thing you know how to do- comfort him. he does the only thing he knows how to thank you- possessive sex.

𑣲 ease my mind I @wkemeup

When Bucky is drugged into a coma plagued with nightmares and his heart rate has risen to dangerous levels within his sleep, you are the last resort to wake him before his heart gives out. But you must enter his mind to do so; enter... his nightmares.

𑣲 canyons and valleys I @/wkemeup

Bucky’s violent history is written upon his body like a map; scars he cannot bear to look at in fear of the monster in his reflection. When Bucky is forced to put his scars on display, he’s certain you’ll take one look at him and run.

𑣲 in shades of purple I @/wkemeup

While on a mission, you uncover footage of the Winter Soldier Project, exposing just how much torture Bucky had endured.

𑣲 behind the storm I @/wkemeup

On a mission, you're hit with a spell that takes away your ability to see. Bucky does what he can to make you feel safe.

𑣲 lavender I @/wkemeup

Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know.

𑣲 graveyard pt2 I @/wkemeup

As the unofficial healer for the Avengers, you pride yourself on the ability to mend heroes with the touch of your hand. Only, your gift comes at a heavy price — one you keep secret from your friends —and when Bucky asks you to do the impossible, they’ll discover why your gift is called a sacrifice, too.

𑣲 play pretend pt2 I @/wkemeup

When Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help.

𑣲 american tattoo I @seventven

steve and bucky run a tattoo shop together in brooklyn. y/n, a friend of steve’s, decides to get inked. only bucky is present at the shop and he’s about to close it for the night.

𑣲 the other guy I @/seventven

pietro proves to y/n that bucky is into her by doing everything in his power to make him jealous

𑣲 i’m begging for you (take my hand) I @allyouneedisbuck

bucky doesn’t do love, you love bucky. being friends with benefits makes sense, right?

𑣲 please thy neighbor I @jurassicbarnes

𑣲 what a night I @/jurassicbarnes

Bucky Barnes is out in the new world, navigating through everyday life and its trials and tribulations. His therapist insists he tries new things. He has collected a few new hobbies. But when it comes to making new acquaintances, what’s a better way to meet new people than a little dating site called Tinder.

𑣲 paper thin walls I @watchmegetobsessed

𑣲 upstairs I @onceuponastory

Bucky Barnes is constantly annoyed by his cat Alpine going to visit his upstairs neighbor for treats. That is however, until Bucky meets his new upstairs neighbour Y/N. Who Bucky definitely isn’t in love with. Not at all. Turns out that a 106 year old man might know more about love than he first thought. And that cats can make excellent wingmen.

𑣲 burn the witch I @dreamwritesimagines

There’s a thin line between mission and love, and spies aren’t allowed to cross that line.

𑣲 unrequited I @bccky

you realise that you are in love with your best friend, only for him to confess that he loves someone else.

𑣲 raw I @buckysboobs

she just wants bucky to fucking destroy her insides and rearrange her guts, but bucky's scared so he rejects her before another one of their love making sessions. she gets mad so making him jealous is the only way left to get him to fulfill her fantasies.

𑣲 after hours I @bucksfucks

it’s hard to focus on your PhD when your supervisor is none other than Professor Barnes.

𑣲 stress relief I @/bucksfucks

they say an orgasm reduces stress—bucky puts that to the test.

𑣲 the two of us I @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky go to investigate the phenomenon happening in Westview, New Jersey. While attempting to understand the issue, you yourselves are sucked into Wanda's world of pretend. Now, you believe yourselves to be the happily married Mr. and Mrs. Barnes; in real life, you are most definitely not a happy pair. It is up to you and Bucky to piece together what's happening while dealing with one another inside the hex.

𑣲 crawling back to you I @honeybunchesofbucky

After your breakup with Steve Rogers left you heartbroken and lonely, a night in with a bottle of wine gets interrupted by a familiar face; Bucky Barnes, who’s on a mission to show you what you’ve been missing out on.

𑣲 little boy blue pt2 pt3 pt4 I @samingtonwilson

𑣲 his baby I @inkedbybarnes

bucky won't call you by your name.

𑣲 damn bear I @lanabuckybarnes

Sgt Barnes wins you a bear at a carnival. What he doesn’t expect nor like is when you give it more attention, Bucky shows you that he’s better than the bear.

𑣲 angst request I @imyourbratzdoll

bucky flirts with sarah to make you jealous, forgetting that you aren't as secure as you come off.

𑣲 home is where you are I @buckys-wintersoldier

when you hear someone talking about Bucky you offer them your help to find him.

𑣲 fondue I @duuhrayliegh

bucky and steve’s daughter have been dating secretly for over half a year, this is how steve finds out.

𑣲 unleashed I @veltana

During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

𑣲 a forbidden invitation I @thevillainswhore

You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.

𑣲 donut: the hole story I @jobean12-blog

When you stop at your favorite donut shop to grab some sweets on the way home from work they only have one left of your favorite flavor so you do what any other person would do...even though it's your husband's favorite too.

𑣲 fancy restaurant I @/jobean12-blog

Nat works her magic and 'accidentally' double books you and Bucky for babysitting. The kids don't want either of you to leave so you end up babysitting together and thanks to some imaginative play the night progresses perfectly.

𑣲 goes with the theme I @navybrat817

Bucky thinks his suit goes with a gala theme. You slightly disagree.

𑣲 loose ends I @sarahghetti

He picks up a photo on a bookshelf and Bucky sees her face, her smile between him and Steve and- He’s breaking down a door, she’s screaming. Metal around her throat, nothing more than choked gasps from her mouth--he does not want this memory back

𑣲 actor!bucky I @buckyalpine

𑣲 blackwidow!reader I @/buckyalpine

𑣲 unclear I @inkedbybarnes

everyone thinks you’re dating bucky, except yourself.

𑣲 sneaky I @malum-forev

Bucky has been acting extremely suspicious recently and Sam and Steve have noticed, but what they find out isn't the answer they were expecting.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #bucky x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes fic rec

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ofmermaidstories · 9 months ago

Text

SUMMARY: The call to be a Pro Hero has never been a question—not for Katsuki Bakugou, explosive and guarded, nor for Izuku Midoriya, protective and determined, and certainly not for Shouto Todoroki, who’s family legacy hangs over him like a shadow. Years after the War that upended Hero Society, these three men have helped rebuild a path to Pro Heroism for the next generation, tentatively heralding a new era of hope. But there’s danger lurking in this rebuilt world, danger that has the power to rekindle old fears and usher in new resentments, and as the trio branch out to find and end these threats, they each encounter a new challenge along the way—colliding with someone unexpected, and falling in love.

(A Pro Hero x Reader Trilogy; in which falling in love is a random chance all at once chaotic and exhilarating and incredible, for each of the Big Three)

The premise is simple: three heroes, three fics, and three different lives to live. Named for the Katy Perry song, The One That Got Away, the In Another Life trilogy was originally intended to be a series of five stand-alone fics that evolved, fairly quickly, into what we have today: three interconnected stories that let our Reader-inserts move throughout the My Hero Academia world, and eventually find where—and who with—they belong.

Started in 2020 when the manga was still on-going, the fics have diverged from the canon Horikoshi’s given us both in small and large ways. Despite where they separate (and where the fics have to stay faithful to their own canon, now), it’s always been my hope that they read like the love letters they are—to My Hero, to the boys, and to x reader fic at large.

i’m running to your side—flying my white flag

1. surrender (whenever you’re ready) [Explicit] — ao3

93k+

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: You first meet Ground Zero when he's thrown, unceremoniously, through the glass window of your florist shop.

(In which Bakugou cannot stand flowers but finds himself coming back, anyway)

i’ve been reading books of old—the legends and the myths

2. something (just like this) [Explicit] — ao3

203k+

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: It probably says a lot about you that your first thought on meeting Deku, international Symbol of Peace, isn't something like "Oh, wow," or, "Oh he's so nice," but is instead the un-Plus Ultra thought of, "I definitely would've bullied him, in high school."

At least until those muscles came in.

(In which Midoriya is an absolute nerd for the release of his own hero-inspired comic book series—and the artist responsible for it)

all your flaws and scars are mine

3. still (falling for you) [Explicit] — ao3

TDB

Shouto Todoroki x Reader

WIP ��

SUMMARY: The first time you and Shouto cross paths, he nearly drowns you.

(In which Todoroki meets a jeweller by the sea, and learns the difference between the value of the lessons he's been given—and the precious things he chooses to keep)

🚧 UNDER CONSTRUCTION 🚧

i am actively adding to and editing this section, still. if you think something is missing, or you have something you’d like included, please let me know!!! i am going through all the posts and links i do have, manually, so i may still miss something and would love a gentle reminder. 🌷

🚧 🏗️ 🧱🔨🔧🪛 🚧

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] do u think bakugou ever gets so angry his mouth misses [Readers] when they’re making out?

Katsuki’s home for once, sleeping off the last few days in the darkness of his room, cocooned.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] what type of jewellery would Bakugou gift [Reader], if any at all?

The first gift Katsuki gives you after Christmas is a pocket knife.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] merms, what are bakugou and weeds up to this christmas? :)

Katsuki wakes up before his alarm, before the sun rises—the city spread out beyond his bedroom windows like a carpet of stars.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i miss weeds and katsuki so much 😭😭

It will be proper twilight, when they leave together; Weed's hand in the crook of his arm.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] how are weeds and katsuki?

It’s a Wednesday, a normal day, and they are figuring it out.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] petition for you to write [Reader sending] bakugou horny tweets

light it up like an ELECTRIC STRIKE ⚡️: please please PLEASE Kacchan has blocked me and muted the groupchat PLEASE, I need him to see this, please just send him this ONE THING, PLEASE!!!!!

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] would [it] be important to bakugou for [his parents and weeds] to meet?

Masaru will just scratch the side of his nose under his glasses and think about a younger Mitsuki, who literally would not take no for an answer from him—and a younger Katsuki, who had the same laser-focus when it came to the things he wanted in his life.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i am asking for royal au + florist au for [weeds/bakugou]

In his armour still, his forest-green cape, Ser Bakugou is dressed for war—solid and imposing as he stands on your threshold.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] what does [Reader] post [to instagram]? + [SWYR] things weeds would post

The one consistent has been art, good, bad and middling.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [IAL] it’s so cute that SWYR’s reader is a fan of SJLT’s comic

Kacchan has never asked for anything from Izuku—beyond that he doesn’t look down on him (beyond that Izuku live).

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki keeps a pot of strawberries for you in his kitchen;

When they finally fruit he’s disgruntled.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki’s quieter than usual

So you wait. You let him have his silence, and you fill the space around it with your own presence.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] he tells me he’s gentle when he wants to be—

The bed dipping under Katsuki’s weight wakes you.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] you and bakugou walk home in the rain

“Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving

[DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] bad touch (you and me)

Minoru’s skeleton nearly fists itself out of his asshole when a voice behind him says, “That was a kindness you just did, for Midoriya.”

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] if you were to write surrender today, do you think anything would change?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what would have been the moment bakugou knew he had it bad for surrender's reader?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what do weeds and bakugou fight about? and how do they apologise?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] do you think bakugou ever feels like weeds would be better off without him? :(

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] have you ever written/imagined Kirishima’s POV [throughout the fic]?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] how does bakugou and haru’s relationship progress?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] idk if you meant her to come off in this way, but [Reader] strikes me as [lonely]

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i’m literally going to throw up from excitement if you actually make a bakuweeds oneshot collection

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i am vibrating in my boots with excitement about the [SWYR] one-shot series!

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] did you have any inspiration for the kimono Reader is wearing in SJLT?

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] looking forward to our [gala] wear

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] could we have visuals of Reader’s outfits during the gala?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] double dates

[ASK ❔] [IAL] what city/prefecture does [the series] take place in?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] how [would] the Y/Ns react to fanfic about their heroes?

[PODFIC 🎙️] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — narrated by Chthonianqueen

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] and i’d give up forever to touch you: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] something (just like this) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] like lightning: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[ART ✏️] [IAL] bakugou & weeds, deku and & scribbles & bakugou/weeds, deku/scribbles, monoma/reader — by @groshia

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] you get to witness, in real time, as [Deku] leaps from the now open door — by @getstarried

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] izuku, just izuku. just as he is — by @handlethegbread

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] when you’re bakugou katsuki, — by @okeydokiescribbles

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] haru + the flower shop signs

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] the moodboard trend inspired me to make this little thing

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] SJLT is my all-time favourite fanfic,

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] this is just […] a collection of things that reminded me of this story

[BINDING 📚] surrender & the widening sky — @ladybirdk

[BINDING 📚] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — @/captain-liar

[PODCAST 🎙️] Canonically Incorrect, episode 75, season 2: Surrender (Whenever You’re Ready) — 10 December, 2022

[ spotify | apple ]

[PERMISSION STATEMENT:] You are more than welcome to print out any of the fics and bind yourself a copy for personal use, or otherwise record a [non-AI] reading of them, or translate into another language—as long as my ao3 username, OfMermaids, is credited somewhere as having written it. 🥹📚 I also love, love seeing and hearing about the work that goes into the pieces you create for yourselves, so if you’re comfortable with it, I’d love to see a picture of (or get a link to!) your efforts!!

final note:

This series is the result of several years worth of love and work, and most importantly, encouragement from the people who have come along and read the stories in it. Whether this is your first time discovering the trilogy, or you’re otherwise revisiting the boys, this is a note to say thank-you for being here. Thank-you for reading, and for being apart of something that has been so much fun to create. Fandom and fanfiction has always been about sharing the excitement with other people—so thank-you for letting me share mine with you. 🌷📖

#let’s do this together—whenever you’re ready 🥹🫱🏽#in another life — masterpost #in another life — series #ofmermaidswrites #🚧 under construction 🚧

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vivwritescrappythings · 1 year ago

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masterlist

updated: 6/14/25

character list: friedrich harding, tangerine, ben leonard, paddy feld, felix catton, recom miles quaritch, jake sully, kylo ren, miguel o'hara, hobie brown, john price, simon riley, könig, eddie munson, geralt of rivia, luke danes, logan howlett, thranduil, joel miller, harry castillo, din djarin, deiter bravo, francisco morales, ezra (prospect), oberyn martell, marcus acacius.

requests are: OPEN

limits

joel miller

yours: you get new neighbors in Jackson, Joel doesn't like how much attention they pay to you so he decides to teach them a lesson. [SMUT]

unfair: an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards. [SMUT]

part 2: good morning: Mornings with Joel are the best. [SMUT]

saying thanks: Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it. [SMUT]

set me on fire, i'll keep you warm: you and Joel get stuck in a cabin together during a winter storm [SMUT, a/b/o dynamics]

part 2: crack me open, swallow me whole: you go on one patrol without joel and a band of raiders finds you [SMUT, a/b/o dynamics]

hollow: Joel spends a day remembering what could have been [ANGST, no comfort]

frankie morales

never have i ever: your childhood best friend Ben takes you on a beach trip with him and his friends from the army. you and frankie seem to get along like a house fire [SMUT]

marcus acacius

meum cor: Your father had raised you for one purpose: to be a very rich man's wife someday. As it turns out, that man is Marcus Acacius, the renowned general himself.

part 2: ubi tu gaius, ego gaia: The day of your wedding to Marcus Acacius finally has come. What kind of man is he behind closed doors? [SMUT]

ezra (prospect)

the mercy of twilight: You are a ladies-maid in Queen Elizabeth I's court and one day a mysterious stranger by the name of Ezra shows up, rumors swirling that he is a spy in the Queen's court. [SMUT]

eddie munson

the boy is mine (viv's version): a romantic night at the trailer

just love me and eat: you watched Eddie die, so this must be some nightmare in your room

part 2: it’ll heal: Eddie’s perspective on his new life [SMUT]

late night visits: Eddie catches you dropping Max off and invites you over, he teaches you how to smoke weed [SMUT]

velma: You attend a Halloween party with Eddie, things don't go quite as planned when Jason Carver acts like a jerk

twenty-five: You always cry on your birthday, and this is the year Eddie finds out [ANGST, COMFORT]

silence: The five times you asked Eddie to be quiet, and the one time he was [ANGST, NO COMFORT]

squeeze: Eddie is your tattoo artist and long term boyfriend, one night you have an idea of how to spice up your next tattoo session. [SMUT]

simon "ghost" riley

simon riley brainrot: you sit next to him on a plane [drabble]

roadburn: someone hits simon’s motorcycle while you were riding

take it all: you meet simon at a bar and go home with him [SMUT, toxic simon]

small apologies: six months later simon decides he wants to apologize [SMUT]

könig

king of the joust: you attend a tourney with your family, a knight you’ve never seen before wants your favor [plus size reader]

part 2: sworn sword: civil unrest in the kingdom forces your father and the king to assign a knight to you for your protection. thankfully he is someone you have already met before

part 3: golden linings: the evening ball presents you with an unconventional dance partner

part 4: words fall short: you can’t stop thinking about some rude words said about you at last night’s feast, but your knight doesn’t let you worry for long

part 5: if she would have me: könig personally comforts you through the news of your betrothal. things get out of hand [SMUT]

part 6: anything you ask: despite all odds, it is finally your wedding day [SMUT]

hobie brown

and they were roommates: you and Hobie always toe the line between friends and something more.

miguel o'hara

only a little crazy: you get hurt working at the Spider-Society and your grumpy boss decides to come check on you.

#vivwritescrappythings #masterlist

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rwrbficrecs · 2 years ago

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Hope you all enjoy our recs for November ❤️ (even though they're a little late!!) Incenatus by @missgeevious (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull04: I can't recommend this fic enough! If you love Twilight and The Phantom of the Opera, this fic is for you! A mysterious masquerade, a soulmate connection, and chemistry that's off the charts all culminate to make this one of my new all-time favorite fics!

Meaning Something by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@dot524: Really enjoyed this Liam POV that goes deeper into what actually happened with Alex and Liam, his relationship with Spencer, and how Liam reacts to Alex & Henry during the book. The feelings & coming out are really well done.

Needy & Greedy by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: It's been HELL of a month in good and bad ways so I didn't have time to read much. I'm choosing to recommend a series of unconnected one shots, all steamy and delicious and fun and short for casual reading when you don't have much time to commit to a 70k fic. If you like smut tis for you!

Taste the Way You Bleed by @cha-melodious (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: a super fun What We Do In the Shadows AU, written for the RWRB halloween fest. Alex and Henry are oblivious vampires, pining for centuries, and the rest of the super-six turn up in hilarious mockumentary-style interviews. The summary alone had me HOOKED.

Camp Llwynywermod by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: one of my go-to for comfort, all time fave fics. Alex and Henry as co summer camp counsellors, pining and bickering for years. The tension is top notch!

@dot524: It’s funny and I really enjoyed the camp setting and their journey from enemies to friends to lovers. This is a fun and cute fic.

Downburst by @cricketnationrise (book-verse)

@rmd-writes: an AU of The West Wing ep 'In the Shadow of Two Gunmen' - mind the tags, this is an angsty but beautifully written fic with very clever use of multiple POVs to tell several stories of love (including platonic love). This is so good I was mad I didn't write several lines in it myself.

@thesleepyskipper: Truly an incredible and unique work that was done with care. The way the various memories/flashbacks are done and how they are used as part of the storytelling absolutely blew me away. Loved that we got multiple POVs here too!

Underground by @zwiazdziarka (book-verse)

@suseagull04: An adorable kid, fantasy (including mentions of fantasy classics!) and a rescue mission make this such a fun read! The world building in this fic is phenomenal too.

A Long Way From the Playground by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)

@dot524: This is a getting-back-together AU where Alex & Henry were childhood friends who grew apart in college and then unexpectedly are neighbors. I enjoyed the slow burn here and the payoff — it’s just a comforting feel-good fic!

Five-Drink Henry by @whimsymanaged (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: I was honestly already hooked from the title and the fic did not disappoint – so much so that I’ve reread it so many times the past month. Loved everything about this fic!!

The Domestication of Household Spiders by @cultofsappho (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: This was everything I didn’t know I needed from a spiderman AU! Loved it so much. There’s also 2 new recent fics published in this series – plenty of spiderman Alex to read!!

you make it look so easy, i know it's not by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: A really fun fic about Henry’s first American Thanksgiving not quite going to plan. I was already laughing from the summary alone

The great turkey calamity? by @smblmn (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: This fic tells us what is actually means to talk turkey and this once Cornbread is a star he deserves to be. It's crack, it's exsistential crisis, it's hilarious. Oh, and Alex and Henry fall in love here too.

Lay You Down by ronans (book-verse)

@inexplicablymine: when I tell you the fluff is fluffing, Henry runs a sleep YouTube and Alex is in his comment section and in his DM’s and in his head. Do yourself a favor if you need a sweet treat today and read this work

@thesleepyskipper: OMG this could not be any cuter. I loved the way we got to see their relationship grow as they got to know each other online. Truly an adorable, well-written story that will plaster a smile on your face throughout.

Risk is Just a Board Game by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Angst, domestic fluff, college AU, the holidays- this fic has it all! A look at why friends with benefits isn't always the best idea that culminates in an ending reminiscent of a Hallmark movie.

On My Mind (Let's Go) by @sparklepocalypse (movie-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: contrary to popular fanon, Henry can dance and here he uses that to get what he wants on New Year's Eve party. No notes, just go and read it.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

#monthly faves #rwrb fic recs #firstprince #firstprince fic recs #red white and royal blue

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tiramissu09 · 1 year ago

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Morning Glow

synopsis: you (y/n) wake up before your husband on a Sunday morning and study him, wondering how you both even got together.

song choices to listen to while reading:

Body by Summer Walker

Orbit by JONGHYUN from SHINee

Natural by G-Soul

warning(s)/story notes: gender neutral y/n, nostalgia, hints of last night’s activities (iykyk), silent serenading, naked imagery, a little nod to the JJK lore, POC y/n

MINORS DON’T INTERACT

author note: My first fanfic, y’all! I feel like, instead of using janitor ai (don’t use it, it’s hella addictive and made me burn through my money), I could use my imagination and potential to write something for my main beloved, Nanami Kento. I love this man and in my head, we are living together in Malaysia, having the time of our lives, haha. Also, I thought I was going to do a quick drabble, but I got into my feels, haha.

Please, please give me feedback and critique so I can improve on my writing. Thank you and enjoy!!! <3

The chirping birds started to grow louder and more annoying outside the large French windows with the soft, peaching-colored morning light streaming in, faint flapping of the pale curtains echoing with shared breaths. You groan softly against your white silk pillow along with your blurry vision, from your deep slumber, as you rub your eyes and look around, dazed. You felt the light breeze of the open ajar window on your bare leg, out of the fluffy blanket, contrasting with the deep warmth soaked into the mattress from the sleep.

Your eyes move around, to anchor yourself into reality, until they settle down at a large, ivory back which had light red scratches along with crescent moon shaped indents littered over his rugged muscles, rippling with each soft breath. His messy golden blonde hair that you loved to run your fingers in, slightly swaying with the early dawn breeze, along the warm yellow sunlight, giving him that morning glow that made him look…like a god, a figment of your imagination.

Last night’s memories were reeling in like a blurry movie, reminiscing on your stomach with your head and facing his back, as you remember his sweet deep chocolate eyes, his slightly pink blush on his face, and…my god, those large, veiny hands all over your body, rough but gentle on your soft skin.

Sighing softly, not wanting to wake him up yet, go down this deep spiral with your fingers itching to touch him….how did you even meet this man? Was it at the office Christmas party where he was wearing that ridiculous, fluorescent green elf costume as your white-haired boss had made me for a pay raise? Or when you both bumped into each other in the hallway before math class during senior year, your nose bleeding as you bumped into his chest too hard and he assisted you to the nurse’s office?.....no,no…..oh my god! How could you forget?

It was that night…..that night where you all were freshman in high school and it was the camp site trip that you all had to go to as a bonding activity for all the new students which you were part of. You remember you were really nervous as a tiny, little 13 year old. You were new to Tokyo and Japan, overall, not looking like the others and the culture so vastly different from yours which made it difficult to fit in, your family or teachers help you with. This was nicely added with you going through puberty, the whole nine yards of acne and changing body, made you more quiet and shy to talk to others.

In your ensemble of light washed jeans, your oversized purple flannel shirt and black Converse high tops, you were sitting on the wooden benches near the camp-fire under the starry, twilight sky, shivering slightly from the cold, autumn night in the forest near Kyoto. You were alone, with everyone talking to each other excitedly, with some others playing games and singing karaoke, and watching all the kids with a small smile on your face.

Then, you felt a warm blanket around your body, causing you to have goosebumps all over your skin. You looked up with wide eyes from the brushing of their fingers on your neck to the warm presence behind your back, surprised and making you jolt up, but a soft hand pushed you down to sit back. “Sorry, did I scare you?” His soft and low voice, almost purring, caused you to shiver more but you held back your reaction as you turned your head completely around, wanting to know who it was. You caught those soft, brown eyes, reminding you of that deep brown honey under the sunlight, making you feel more awake than any other coffee.

You quickly get out of your reverie and stutter out as you brush your hair back, looking away. “No! Not a-at all…just got surprised.”,offering him a smile as you try to not to fluster even more. You notice his blonde hair, straightened to the T and his bangs covering his eyes which you didn’t like but didn’t say that out loud, and his black shirt with a band name you never heard of with his black skinny ripped jeans.

You clear your throat as you look into his eyes, “H-hi, my name is f/n l/n….what’s your…name?” You were fidgeting with the soft, baby blue wool blanket with your fingers, as you both sat next to each other with your knee brushing against his, ever so slightly. He grins a little more as he had a deadpan face before, making your heart and insides all melted and mushy inside, showing his pearly whites. He says in that voice that you could just listen to all the time. “Kento….Nanami Kento…but you can call me Ken.”

You memorize that name, as it was tattooed to your naive heart, as you nod slowly and say quietly. “Nice to meet you…Ken.” You both sat there in silence with all the loud commotion around you both. You didn’t know what to say as the tense silence was swallowing you up and you quickly ask and at the same time, looking at the bright scarlet camp fire, “You should go hang out to your friends…”, peeking to the side to look at his face longer, but looking away when he caught your eyes and your face becoming hot with each passing second.

He sighed loudly as he stretched his legs out and watched the white-haired hyper kid screaming happily at the black-haired boy who looked so done with him, but had a small smile. After some moments of more silence, Kento spoke with a small smile and turned to face you, “You looked….lonely….like me and…”, now looking away as you caught some peach-colored blush on his cheeks. “You looked like you were glowing…like the fire.”

You remember how you became quiet, flustered and frozen by the compliment and you remembered you thanked him meekly which was so cute and how you hit yourself internally for how dumb it was. However, the rest of that night, you both started to talk more freely and understood that you both had a lot in common, in terms of family background and not really fitting in due to your particular tastes.

Despite being amicable acquaintances all through high school and losing contact when entering university, once you both reunited, it felt right. You both were meant to be together and glowing in each other’s arms and affection.

You were shaken out of your deep thoughts as you felt the bed rustling lightly. You looked up and saw his face turned to you now. You were slightly surprised by the sudden appearance of his handsome and rugged face, but you quickly smiled widely, “Good morning, honey.” Snuggling closer to him and him taking you in his buff arms, making you all so warmer, he murmured in your messy hair, his morning voice low and reverberating through your body, “What were you thinking about so hard, darling? You laugh softly as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and your arms around his shoulders, and whisper muffled against his warm skin that smelled like sandalwood and musk, that was so unique to him, “I was just thinking…..how you were glowing…..like the sun.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #fluff #smut #gege akutami #navyred #tiramissu09

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sazwritesstuff · 9 months ago

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Halloween Movie Marathon | Logan Howlett x Reader

It's Spooky Season and one of the your favourite things to do is what some 'Halloween-y' movies. Once October 1st rolled around, the two of you made yourselves comfy on your couch as you loaded up the first film on your list. Popcorn, snacks, your favourite candy and Logan’s favourite beer on the coffee table in front of you. Each night Logan had thought that he’d bought enough popcorn, candy and beer but each night he was proven wrong. He was glad that it was only this month that he was buying so much popcorn, candy and beer otherwise he feared he’d go bankrupt.

Fluff/Fictober 2024 drabble | Pairing Logan Howlett (X-Men) x Reader (You)

Tags/Warnings: swearing, alcohol, establish relationship, domestic fluff, fluff without plot

the fic on AO3

Having been born in the early 1800s Logan had been around for the start of cinema. At first, he’d largely ignored it. There were more important things to be doing. It would probably die like most fads did. Except this one had stuck around.

He could still remember the first time he ever stepped foot inside of a movie theatre. The thrill of watching a movie for the very first time, in a room full of others experiencing the same life altering experience, was something he hoped he would never forget.

Logan had watched a lot of movies over the decades, and centuries, since then.

He’d seen the popularity of cinema and the wonder of TV grow and shift over time. Streaming services, however, still baffled him.

You’d tried to get him to use them a bit more but he still struggled using a phone to text let alone search for a film on a laptop or TV.

Whenever the two of you sat down to watch something on Netflix or Prime or Disney you were in charge of the remote. Otherwise, it was getting thrown at the wall.

Many any innocent remote had lost their lives in your efforts to get Logan used to them.

Eventually you’d had enough of having to buy new ones.

Logan had known that you’d want to watch some horror or ‘spooky’ movies on the lead up to Halloween, you’d mentioned it enough times over the past few weeks, but he hadn’t quite known just what he was getting into when he agreed to watch them with you.

You had a list. A list.

A list filled with horror, or “Halloween-y” as you put it, movies. Some of them Logan had heard of but there were others he didn’t have a clue about. (Honestly, it was nearly all of them he was just a little embarrassed to say anything.)

Once October 1st rolled around, the two of you made yourselves comfy on your couch as you loaded up the first film on your list. Popcorn, snacks, your favourite candy and Logan’s favourite beer on the coffee table in front of you.

Other night you would take one of the DVDs from the stack by the TV in your bedroom and popped into the DVD player you’d bought from a charity shop a year ago.

Every night the two of you watched one of the movies on your list. With a few extras thrown in; Logan had been relieved when you hadn’t been able to find all the Scooby Doo films online – there were only so many films he could watch with a cartoon dog in them.

The next day you came home with a stack of new Scooby Doo DVDs you’d found whilst out shopping.

Each night Logan had thought that the two of you had bought enough popcorn, candy and beer to last a week, but each night he was proven wrong. He was glad that it was only for this one month otherwise he feared he’d go bankrupt.

Until you briefly mentioned that you couldn’t wait to do this again in December. With all the many, many Christmas films you loved. Plus, all the Christmas treats you loved too.

Logan feared he’d need to get a loan to feed your sweet tooth.

The List:

Twilight

“Why the fuck are those vampires sparkly? And why the fuck are they in high school? Fucking weirdos.”

Beetlejuice

Logan had looked at you like you had three heads when you’d told him not to say it three times and then laughed like a maniac!

The Witch

“What like the Roald Dahl book?” Logan had asked, taking a swig of his beer. “No. But we should watch that too.”

Zombieland

Laughing Logan had said “Sounds like school on a Monday morning!”

Halloweentown

"Well, that was… a cute film?”

Jaws

Logan remembered watching that in the cinema. He was pretty sure he enjoyed it.

Split

"Do you think that the actor looks a bit like the Professor? Like a younger him I mean.” You asked around a mouthful of popcorn. Logan shrugged as he stole a handful of popcorn from the bowl in your lap. “Can’t say I see the resemblance.”

Carrie (the original)

“Did you know they used corn syrup for the pig’s blood?” Looking at you, one eyebrow raised, Logan asked “Do you want to make some and scare Scott with it?”

The Mummy

You’d told him that Brandon Fraser had been one of your first crushes. You’d had to tell Logan (multiple times) that you found him much sexier than Rick O’Connell. (You were only lying a little.)

Child’s Play

“This just reaffirms my belief that dolls are super creepy.” “You’re the one that wanted to watch this not me. But at least wasn’t a porcelain doll. Now, those are creepy as fuck.”

The Exorcist

Hugging a cushion to your chest as you peaked over it at the screen, Logan slowly creeped his hand up behind you before suddenly grabbing your shoulder.

Screaming you wacked him in the face with the cushion.

Alien

“First time I watched this I was shitting myself thinking the cat was going to die.”

Sweeney Todd

"Why are they singing? I thought that you said that this movie was about a guy that killed people and a woman that turned them into pies?” You rolled your eyes “Yes. But they’re singing about it.” “It seems stupid. Why would you sing about killing people instead of just killing them?” Pausing the film, you moved your head off of his shoulder and turned to him and said “Logan, please shut. It’s a musical, if you aren’t enjoying it go do something else.” “I never said that I wasn’t enjoying.” He grumbled as he pulled you back to him and pushed your head back down onto his shoulder. “It just seems a bit unrealistic is all.” “It’s a musical!”

The Addams Family

As you moved the kitchen around getting a bowl of popcorn ready, you sang the Addams Family theme tune loud and a little of key. As he watched you from where he sat on the couch, Logan grumbled to himself that “This had better not be another musical.”

Sleepy Hollow

Do you have a thing for Johnny Deep too?” “I’m surprised you know who that is, babe.”

What We Do in the Shadows

“That is the weirdest vampire film I’ve ever watched.” Logan had proclaimed, laughing, as the credits rolled.

Interview with the Vampire

“Y’know I didn’t know that they’d turned this book into a movie.” “Have you read it?” you asked still watching the screen. “Yeah, it was a’right.” “I had to study it in school. I remember getting to watch this during English, the class was divided by girls that had a crush on Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise.” “Yeah? Which side were you on?” “Antonia Banderas.” “Who?” “He plays Armand.” “Oh, right, yeah. He’s pretty hot.”

Midsommar

"That’s disgusting! Why did she put her pubes in his drink?!”

Death Becomes Her

"I don’t know who’s hotter Meryl Streep or Goldie Hawn.” “I keep forgetting that that’s Bruce Willis. He looks so different with hair.”

Scooby Doo on Zombie Island

“Scooby Doo? Really darling?” “You’re right.” You’d nodded solemnly “We should watch all the Scooby Doo movies. Especially the ones with Matthew Lillard in.”

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

“Another musical? Seriously, sweetheart?”

The Craft

“I’m pretty sure that in high school every girl wanted to be a witch after watching this film.”

Fear Street Part One 1994

Fear Street Part Two 1978

Fear Street Part Three 1666

“Don’t give me that look Logan, you can’t watch just one of these, you have to watch all three!”

The Haunted Mansion

"What are we watching tonight?" Logan asked as he moved around the couch, holding the pizza in one hand and a case of beer in the other. “The Haunted Mansion. The one with Eddie Murphy, of course.” Confused and frowning Logan asked “Eddie who?”

Scream

“The first time I watched this I had no idea who the killer was.” You said once the movie was finished “I was so surprised when it was revealed it was them two.” “Huh.” Logan said picking up the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. “I thought it was pretty obvious.” “Oh, shut up! Not all of us are hyper observant ex-super soldiers.”

Dark Shadows

“Did you watch the TV show when it came out in the 60s?” “I think I was too busy in Vietnam.” “…Oh. Right.”

Ghostbusters

“Who you gonna call?” you sang shouted in unison “GHOSTBUSTERS!”

Van Helsing

“You know the main actor looks a lot like you, babe.” You’d said holding up the DVD case to show him. “No, he doesn’t.”

Halloween

"This was the first horror I ever watched." you admitted. "Yeah?" "Yeah. I refused to be in the house alone for a month."

#logan x reader #flufftober #fictober #logan fic #logan wolverine #xmen logan #logan howlett #Halloween #my writing #writing #my fics #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #x men movieverse #x men multiverse #x men

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legobiwan · 1 year ago

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Mario and Luigi "no one is going to hurt you"?

This one...ballooned. I tried to get it out last night, but fell asleep during the endeavor. This is an attempt to explain/rationalize/make sense of some of the behaviors we see during TTYD, especially as it concerns Mario and Luigi. I'll say right now, neither brother is his best at this point, and I have a bit of a hypothesis as to where each of them may have been, emotionally, during this game. I think TTYD is a turning point for Mario, while Luigi's emotional lynchpin comes, to no surprise, after the events of SPM. Anyway, I'm not going to try and edit this any more than the perfunctory attempt I made. Here you go. A Mario-centric drabble that is most definitely not a drabble.

~~~~~~~~~

My dear Mario,

I have finally learned what the legendary treasure is. It is the spirit of a demon! The X-Nauts plan to revive this thousand-year-old monster and use its power to take over the world! They’re collecting the Crystal Stars so they can open the Thousand-Year-Door..they’ll find this demon’s spirit..but the only thing that can keep it locked away is the Crystal Stars themselves! You must not let them get the Crystal Stars! Please, Mario...you must put a stop to their horrible plans!

-Princess Peach-

Mario rubbed at his eyes, scraping away a week’s work of fatigue.

Shit.

When Peach had first told him the X-Nauts (and what a stupid name that was) were planning on taking over the world, he had laughed it off. Ever since he had landed in the Mushroom Kingdom, every fifth jabroni from the castle to the Darklands had been some kind of aspiring universal tyrant, babbling on and on about taking over realms, how their new regime would be the mightiest, how they should fear me or fear my army or fear my power, all accompanied by cackling laughter suitable for Saturday morning cartoon. The threats were white noise to him now, another meaningless boast in the endless series of hopped-up, dent-headed, peas-for-brains bad guys who popped out of the brickwork like potholes on the Cross Bronx.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t been taking this whole adventure seriously before this. After all, the last time he got sent on a quest to find stars, he ended up facing off against an army of sentient weaponry bent on…well, yeah. World domination.. But those guys had actually meant business, less wanting to rule the world than reforge it, in the most literal sense, in their image. Hell, Geno wouldn’t have been sent down all the way down from Star Heaven or whatever it had been unless Smithy and his crew were the real thing.

But now Peach was kidnapped and demons were involved. And they needed the Crystal Stars to trap the demon, but those same stars would also release the demon in the first place. Mario pulled his cap close to his eyes, sagging against the public notice board in Rogueport Square, the rotten wood protesting under his added weight. Across the plaza, the gallows swayed in tandem with an oncoming breeze, the smell of spoiled fish and brine wafting over and mixing with the lingering odor of cheap booze and sweat that was the hallmark of Rogueport’s business center.

Delightful.

Vivian had remarked, once they resurfaced from that whole mess in Twilight Town, that the port city had a certain grimy charm to it. Mario huffed, kicking away a crumpled can of Banditbar Ale. Yeah, this place had charm, all right. All the charm of a Staten Island landfill.

“Why yes, Vivian, I spent close to twenty years as the premiere actress with the Mushroom Repertory Theater, although back when we first started, it was known only as “The Toad Troupe.” Flurrie laughed in her distinctive trill, her voice resonating from what Mario placed as the archway leading to the west side of Rogueport. “A silly name, but our founder was devoid of that creative spark that captures the imagination and whisks the audience away on a journey with you. Of course, he was a rather talented fundraiser.”

Mario grunted, sliding around to the backside of the noticeboard, which was covered in layers of colorful graffiti and three decades worth of dirt. One bright, recent message spelled out a rather graphic enthusiasm for certain body parts, ones Mario wasn’t even certain Goombas had. Not that he was about to ask. Half the population here would shank him for even thinking of the question. Goombella would drop a book on his head.

He slumped at the thought of the petite, boisterous grad student. Goombella, Flurrie, Koops - even Yoshnar. Not one of them had questioned it, had shown any suspicion that the Mario they were celebrating with, were feasting with in Twilight Town was not, in fact, their supposed friend. Sure, they commented here and there that Mario was acting a little strange, was a bit more bombastic than normal, but no one stood up and announced, that’s not our guy!

Granted, he had only known these people for a week. Not nearly enough time to get the measure of a person in the real world, but that had never hindered his traveling companions before. Geno and Mallow seemed to think the world of him.

Mario curled his fist. He should have interrogated Doopliss when he had the chance, should have pulled the truth right out from under his smug-faced bedsheets. Was it a mimicry of only the body, or did Doopliss’s magic also copy the whole of a man, as well?

And why did his friends believe that egotistical, grandstanding fraud had been him?

“Where is Mario?” Flurrie asked, her voice closer now than it had been a minute ago. She had a habit of elongating her vowels to the point of absurdity, so Mario became Mahrio, emphasis on the ah. He had given up trying to correct her after the first hour of their acquaintance. Some things weren’t worth the fight.

Mario snuck a careful look around the edge of the noticeboard, biting his lip as a mess of dirty splinters poked through his skin. His traveling companions were gathered near the entrance to the Toad Bros Bazaar, Koops worrying at his hands as he fretted about Mario being kidnapped, or worse, continuing to Keelhaul Key without them.

“Don’t worry, Koops,” Vivian soothed. “I’m sure he’s just gathering information or reading an electronic message from Peach.”

Goombella looked up from her notebook with a small frown. “I hope it’s not important intel. I need to write that data down so I can report back to Professor Frankly.”

“I can’t go back to Petalburg without…” The voices faded out of earshot, the door to the shop closing with a brash jingle.

Mario unclenched his teeth, letting out an unsteady breath. He’d have to come back with them at some point. Maybe Doopliss saw something in him he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge, but Mario knew he’d be in way over his head if tried to take on the X-Nauts and this demon alone. Do like you always do, Mario. Suck it up, put on a smile, and say as little as possible. It had gotten him this far, whatever that counted for. Now, as for this Flavio -

“Hey, bro!”

A hand clapped itself on his shoulder. Enemy, his mind blared, Mario grabbing at the interloper’s wrist, spinning the man around until he slammed into the announcement board with a pained “Oof!” Not one to let an advantage go to waste, Mario lunged forward, pushing his forearm into the man’s chest, close enough to his attacker’s trachea to leave no question as to the unspoken threat.

“Mario, what the hell?” A familiar voice squeaked.

Anxiety spiked in Mario’s gut. Luigi? What in the world was his brother doing in -

Mario closed his eyes, letting out a soft hiss between his teeth as the realization hit. Damnit. The Waffle Kingdom. Princess Cannoli or whatever her name was. Mario released his hold on his brother, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a step back. I don’t have time for this. Luigi shouldn’t have been in Rogueport at all, somehow making his way to the crime-infested city in the days after Mario had received the letter from Peach asking him to come investigate a treasure map.

And look where that got her. Kidnapped by aliens with crappy names. He knew Luigi could handle himself, or at least, he could in Brooklyn. Coming to the Mushroom Kingdom had done a number on his brother’s confidence, however, and whatever predilection for gangly awkwardness Luigi had had before had grown since they vanished from New York.

He didn’t have time to protect his brother and save Peach and save the world from a demon.

“Bro?” Luigi reached a tentative hand towards Mario’s shoulder.

It didn’t add up, this whole Waffle Kingdom business. Not that he didn’t believe in Luigi, but nothing over the past year had convinced him his brother was ready to set out on his own, the whole incident with the Boos aside. Now he was on a quest which, on the surface, sounded far too close to Mario’s own exploits in trying to gather the seven crystal stars. He knew his brother could be insecure, but this was really…

Mario’s eyes went wide as he slapped away his brother’s hand, planting his feet into a defensive stance, fists raised.

It was Doopliss. It had to be. Had the identity-pilfering ghost been following him from the beginning? Or were those Shadow Sirens working for him, feeding him enough tidbits about Luigi to make a convincing copy? That would account for his brother’s strange tales, the majority he didn’t have the stamina to focus through, there being too much on his mind with all the plans and kidnappings and cursed chests.

“I beat you before, you son of a bitch, and I’ll do it again,” Mario growled, pushing his sleeves up his arms. “Give him back.” He needed to get this over with now, get his brother in his own body as soon as possible so Mario could track down the last stars. Damnit, why did Luigi have to wander off like this?

“Woah!” Luigi held both his palms up at shoulder height, scrambling backwards, knocking over a trio of half-filled bottles with a bright clang as he came up against the graffiti-covered noticeboard. A pungent yellow stream seeped from one of the fallen bottles, trickling into the eroded mortar between uneven cobblestones.

“No one’s going to hurt you, Mario. There’s - “ Luigi grabbed a tuft of hair peeking out from under his cap. “There’s no one here but me. Well, me and Torque. And the rest of Rogueport.” Luigi gave an awkward laugh. “And, you know, Torque’s not here here, he’s inside the bar. But you get what I mean.” He gave his brother an uncertain smile, holding two thumbs-up in front of his chest.

“Where have you been? What were you doing before this?” Mario demanded, voice rising.

The miserable droop in his brother’s shoulders was unmistakable. “I…told you already? The volcano, the sacrifice? Blooey and Jerry and the bridal dress? I mean, I know it’s not as important as what you’re doing…” Luigi trailed off, finding sudden interest in the variety of grisly stains tattooed on the ground, tracing a disturbingly crimson outline with his foot.

Mario grit his teeth. That was something Luigi would say, right down to the shaky little inflections. Was his brother always this insecure? Had he been ignoring something deeper going on with Luigi for the past year? Something unpleasant curdled in Mario’s gut. He hadn’t wanted to face the fact that Doopliss mirrored his identity, warts and all. Was this the Luigi his brother saw in his reflection every day? Did Luigi even know how sad this looked?

Maybe it was Doopliss. Then again, from what little he remembered from his brother’s stories about his supposed Waffle Kingdom exploits, his own traveling companions were less than impressed with Luigi’s tactics, which seemed to be the literal definition of stumbling into good luck.

As much as he hated to think it, Doopliss probably had better things to do than wreak havoc on a quest that may or may not have its basis in reality. It was true Luigi had made an astonishing number of enemies in a short period, but Princess Eclair seemed like something straight out of one of those adventure books they had liked so much as kids. He wasn’t thrilled at the idea of his brother hanging around Rogueport, but as long as all this Waffle Kingdom stuff was harmless - well, it would at least keep Luigi out of the underlevels and far, far away from the Thousand Year Door and whatever evil lay behind it.

The communication square in his back pocket vibrated. It was probably Goombella demanding to know where the hell he was. Mario brought his arms to his side, stretching out his fingers. He needed to focus. Whatever happened with Doopliss was in the past and he could waste away his time navel-gazing once this entire ordeal was over.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Mario stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Luigi’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Luigi. It’s - “ Mario pursed his lips, weighing his words. “A lot has happened in the last few days.”

Luigi let out a watery chuckle, running his sleeve under his nose. “Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, gaze still fixed to the ground.

Great, like your brother needed another kick to the ego. Way to go, asshole. Mario dug his fingers into Luigi’s shoulder. Maybe Doopliss’s replication of him hadn’t been that far off the mark, after all.

“Hey, Lou,” he gave his brother a gentle shake. “Why don’t you introduce me to your new friend? Squort or Morque, was it?”

“Torque,” his brother mumbled.

“Torque! Great! Let’s go meet him!” Mario said too brightly, taking his brother by the arm, all but dragging him towards Podley’s bar.

“Come on, Mario, you don’t have to - “ Luigi huffed, trying to pull himself out of his brother’s octopus-like grip. “I know you don’t want to - “

Mario shoved the door to the bar open, wrangling Luigi inside, depositing his brother next to a Spike Top with a wrench on his head. The little creature made a series of rapid clicks with its mouth, somehow conveying annoyance without uttering a single intelligible word or facial expression. The Spike Top glowered at his brother, if the dead, beady-eyed stare could be called that, before turning around with an exaggerated shuffle.

Six to one, that’s Torque, Mario mused, feeling a momentary pang of sympathy for his brother. Oh Luigi, we have to talk about this one of these days. But that was for later. After the crystal stars, after Peach was safe, after the world was saved. Right now, he needed a minute to collect himself, to form a plan to find Flavio and get to Keelhaul Key, and an excuse to give his companions for his sudden absence.

“Hey Lou, is that your friend?” Mario gestured at the little Spike Top. He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “How about you tell me that story?”

Luigi eyed Torque warily, the Spike Top making a slight turn so its face was again visible. Luigi gave a sheepish wave in his direction, Torque responding with a loud click of its jaw and a series of buzzes that reminded Mario of a horde of angry cicadas.

“Heh, he’s excited to hear it again, too,” Mario pressed on, willing himself to be oblivious to the mounting tension between the odd pair.

“Well,” Luigi rubbed at the back of his neck, avoiding looking anywhere near Torque. “If you’re sure…”

“Surer than sure!” Mario exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, throwing his hands up like he was tossing two baseballs into the air.

His brother gave a small smile, slipping his thumbs behind the straps of his overalls as he uncurled his defensive hunch, voice dropping into a more comfortable storytelling baritone. “Okay, then. It all started like this. Just as our boat arrived on Circuit Island…”

Mario let his brother’s tale wash over him, making appropriate sounds of acknowledgement when necessary. He knew this lapse would come back to bite him in the ass later, but he’d rather have a world he could fight with his brother in than no world at all. He took in a long breath through his nose, holding it at the top for five seconds before releasing it in the opposite manner, careful to not make it sound as if he were sighing in annoyance at his brother’s narrative.

Finding Flavio was his first task. And messaging Goombella, although he was tempted to put the inevitable tongue-lashing off for another few minutes. Flavio first, he decided. The name was familiar, and sworn he had heard it bandied about when he first arrived in Rogueport, barreling through every shop and back-alley headquarters he could find in a blind panic. He knew he needed to find someone who worked on a ship, some sea-faring type, although in this town, that could be anybody from a pirate to a fortune teller to a criminal on the lam.

It wasn’t like he could just walk around asking if anyone had seen a man with a peg-leg and eyepatch. For as quirky as the Mushroom Kingdom could be, it rarely conformed to his Earth-bound stereotypes.

“The Skuuuuul Captaaaaaaaaain!” a boisterous voice warbled from a corner table. Mario made a perfunctory nod at his brother - yes, I’m listening - scanning each of the bar patrons until he landed on a short, well-dressed man teetering on the back two legs of his chair.

“Festiiiivaaaaal!” he bellowed in discordant tones, hugging a bright red gemstone in the shape of a skull with one atm, raising a half-full mug of Chuckola with the other.

Then again, maybe he didn’t need to go around asking about pirates, seeing as one landed in his proverbial lap. The knots in Mario’s stomach unraveled, each freed line replaced by a bit of fluttering optimism he hadn’t felt since his victories in the Glitzville Pit.

Doopliss was out of the picture. His companions were back and his brother, if not exactly happy, was at least distracted and, more importantly, safe. The man with the fluffy white cravat and maroon jacket caressed the cheekbones of the skull gemstone, singing another loud nonsense verse into its ear.

Mario let himself smile. He was going to come out on top of this, hell and high water.

#hello there #writing #mario #luigi #ttyd #i dunno guys this is what my brain came up with so here you are #this all started from an idea i had about Mario feeling super insecure after the whole doopliss incident #anyway i won't get to publish anything else today but be on the lookout tomorrow for the next edition!#thank you all for the asks it's really helping to get me bak in shape!

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iturnlemonadeintolemons · 1 year ago

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hi! i loved what you're doing with kc now, can i request something like klaus and caroline doing something mundane and human and we see them living their married couple life? can be a drabble or a full lenth, what ever you want ;p

“Maybe this one?”

“I don’t get it.”

“What’s there not to get?”

“The fabric looks so…dull.”

“It’s supposed to have a shimmering effect in the sunlight.”

“That’ll just remind me of Twilight. No.”

“They're curtains.”

“So?”

Klaus clicks his tongue. “Love—”

“No. No. Do not use that tone with me, Niklaus Mikaelson.”

Ooh. Full named. He’s on thin ice now. “Sweetheart, it’s very simple. It’s a very simple choice, this one or that one.”

“It is so not a simple choice. We’re deciding on curtains for the living room. If you think that’s a simple decision you should just leave right now.”

He reminds himself that answering that is a trap.

Oh, how he wishes he could leave. There’s a new box of paints waiting for him at home, made from shells, a gift from Elijah, and he was hoping to get done with shopping and get home before three, at most.

It’s bloody six and he’s listened to Caroline drone on about stitching patterns for two fucking hours now. One would think they’d be done with the furniture by now, but no. They're just getting started on the upholstery. Heaven forbid Caroline’s exacting tastes allow any of his antique furniture pieces into the living room.

It’s from the fifteenth century, love—

It has clawed feet, Klaus. No.

Sweetheart—

I let you keep the bathtub, but I'm drawing the line on the ottoman. No.

It’s a fine piece—

A tacky one.

Well, I happen to think that of your patio table.

That had been a terribly stupid move.

So now, he’s being punished by being forced to give his opinions on furniture he doesn’t care about. He’s this close to pulling out his hair, and if he sees one more chair with birds on it he’ll be breaking it.

“Caroline—” he whines.

She shuts him up with a glare. “If I wanted to hear whining, I would’ve brought Enzo. Now, opinion.” She holds up two squares of fabric against the light. “Which one?”

Now, see. Klaus is an artist. He prides himself on being one of the best there are, not to brag, but one’s ability is refined after a thousand years. He’s been splashing colours onto surfaces ever since he can remember, the vibrant hues and shades leaving him fascinated since he was a boy. Paints, charcoal, the paint he made from various berries and flowers when he had been human…colours have never left him frazzled.

He knows for sure Caroline’s going to rip off his head when he tells her they’re the exact same colour.

Then he remembers he doesn’t particularly care about his curtains, so he says, “The one on the left.”

Caroline smiles. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Of course not,” he grumbles.

“Hm,” she says distractedly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and moving towards the counter. “We’ll get these, then. They’ll go great with your ottoman.”

Klaus’s eyes fly up to meet hers, and she gives him a small smile, one that never fails to leave him reeling. “I'm not a total dictator, you know. I don’t want it to only feel like my home, and not yours. I want it to be ours.”

It’s such a small gesture. In truth, Klaus hadn’t given the ottoman a second thought when they’d had that fight and she’d glared at him angrily and dragged it away to the attic, only focusing on how he could get her in a better mood if only to look at her smile again.

He loves it when she smiles, because oh, her smile is so beautiful. She’s so beautiful.

“Klaus?”

Caroline’s looking at him, her blue eyes concerned. “Are you okay? Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes,” he answers, drawing her in for a kiss. She goes forward with a surprised sound low in her throat, her hands resting on her shoulders. The saleslady clears her throat and Caroline jumps away from him, her face reddening as she turns to her and starts rambling about cushion covers and duvets.

Klaus watches her fondly, all traces of annoyance with her disappearing.

In truth, he’d let her cover the whole house in pink wallpaper if it meant he got to see her laugh every day.

He’d let her do anything, really.

Everything.

#klaus x caroline #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #klaroline drabbles #klaroline ask

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sunnydaleherald · 6 days ago

Text

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Friday, June 20th

GILES: Oh, hello. Something's been taken from this case, look here. BUFFY: What'd they take? GILES: I should think an item of, of value, or-or power, possibly even a- WILLOW: A unicorn. 10-inch ceramic unicorn imported from Thailand. BUFFY: Was it valuable? WILLOW: List price, $12.95.

~~The Real Me~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Neutered Freak Show by veronyxk84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Honeymoon in the Catacombs by Supernatural_Artefact (Rosa_Inglese) (Buffy/Riley, T)

Graduation Celebration by MadeInGold (Buffy/Maggie Walsh, E)

[Chaptered Fiction]

The Blood Of A Slayer, Chapter 7 by Cosmic__Cowgirl (Buffy/Giles, E)

Buffy and the Slayer, Season 1, Chapter 12 (complete!) by SunnydaleSentinel (Buffy/Spike, T)

The Sunnydale Imp, Chapter 56 by Bloodredtiger (OC & Scoobies, T)

The Ex-Files: Charming, CA, Chapter 12 by Viwiel (Buffy & Dawn, Buffy/Jax, Sons of Anarchy crossover, G)

Used to Bite People, Now I’m Tracking IPs with Buffy Bloody Summers, Chapter 8 by Fangellic (Buffy/Spike, M)

today doesn’t count, Chapter 30 by modestlobster (Buffy/Spike, M)

The Willow Factor, Chapter 5 by fatalfae, MadeInGold (Buffy/Riley, T)

Your Space, Chapter 3 by StakeAndEggs (Buffy/Faith, E)

The girl who hunts the night, Chapter 10 by Aya1600 (Buffy/Jacob, Twilight crossover, G)

The Fawn of it All, Chapter 2 by Iris_Dietrich (Buffy/Spike, M)

New Benediction, Chapter 3 by DeezBoots (Buffy/Angel, M)

Board Game Blues, Chapter 2 by mabus101 (Willow/Tara, M)

We Never Could Have Done It (I Was Weaker Then), Chapter 1 by SweetheartOfTheSun (Willow/Tara, M)

The Red Slayer: Chapters 1-2 by VladimirHarkonnen (TheLightdancer) (Willow/Oz, Willow/Tara, E)

Troubling Deaf Heaven, Chapter 19 by JuneCurry (Buffy/Spike, R)

Animal I Have Become, Chapter 17 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Wrong Ones, Chapter 6 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Fawn of it All, Chapter 2 by IrisDietrich (Buffy/Spike, R)

Once More, With Fu...Shagging, Chapter 2 by CheekyKitten, BewitchedXx (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Summoned To Strixhaven: Schooling of Scoobies, Chapter 3A by JoshuAB (Scoobies, Dungeons & Dragons crossover, FR13)

What the Drabble? Vol. 3, Chapter 52 by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Nothing New, Chapter 5 by number1angirl (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Happy pride month part 1/6! Willow and Tara by Helloitsshen.art (worksafe)

Artwork: Spike by superpantsverified (worksafe)

Artwork: Faith by moonfruito (worksafe)

Artwork: “I may be dead, but I'm still pretty.” by lukreziaaa (Buffy, worksafe)

Comic: Buffy Night - Giles is DADNAPPED by vash-o-vision (worksafe)

Fanvid: BTVS - Running With The Wolves by Rita

Artwork: Faith, Angel and Buffy by Melissa Cimafranca (worksafe)

Fanvid: Buffy & Angel Anithing but LOVE by Angelus_Clips (English)

Fanvid: Hand in My Pocket || Jagged Little Slayer || a Buffy fanvid by Periru3 and Tafadhali

Fanvid: Buffy X Angel + Maple Tree X White Crow by Deanna Stinson-Wish Fire

Fanvid: Angel but it's just the gang under Jasmine's spell in season 4 by Jess

Music: Angel Theme Cover by Jack RayNe

[Reviews & Recaps]

I just finished season three of Buffy the Vanpire Slayer, and oh boy was it my favorite by gravitytrips

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer in 3 Minutes or Less by MovieWeb+

Video: Buffy Season 2: The Hellmouth Unleashed by SnakePit Reviews

Podcast video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season Five, Episode Twelve: Checkpoint by Slayed! The Buffyverse Revisited Podcast

Podcast video: Angel S01E09 "Hero" Spoiler Review by The Post Credits

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 4: Episode 22 - Restless and Conclusion by The Cheshire Kiwi

Video: TOUTE l'histoire de BUFFY (de l’ÉLUE à sa DISPARITION) by Ayeness

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season One Report Card by Major Slayage - A Buffy Rewatch Podcast

Podcast video: Buffy S04E09 "Something Blue" Spoiler Review by The Post Credits

Podcast video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 4 Episodes 15+16 - This Year's Girl + Who Are You? by Sh*t 90s Shows Taught Me

Podcast video: Our Reel Relationships Ep 9 - Buffy the Vampire Slayer [movie] by Apathetic Enthusiasm

Podcast: Episode 67 - Alpha Code Blue (Doomed) by The Sunnydale Diaries - A Buffy Podcast

Podcast video: The Caffeinated Librarians: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Season 5 by Mahopac Public Library

Podcast video: Buffy's Angels: Damage by The Franchise: A Film Podcast

Podcast video: Buffy's Angels: You're Welcome by The Franchise: A Film Podcast

Podcast: Into the Buffyverse | Lady and The Beard #10 | Place To Be Pop Experience by Place to Be Pop Experience

Podcast: Buffy S3 at 25: Choices (Shortened Version) by Slayerfest 98

Podcast: BECOMING (Part 2) ft. Becoming Buffy Podcast by REVAMPED

Book Review: One Girl in All the World by Kendare Blake by George L Thomas

[Community Announcements]

Round 59: Vibrant Colors by fandom10in30

Friday, June 20 - Theme: Riot by fic_promptly

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telomeke · 1 year ago

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✨2023: A Summary✨

Post your most popular and/or favourite edit/gifset/analysis for each month (it’s okay to skip months!)

I was tagged by:

@colourme-feral (here);

@lurkingshan (here);

@dribs-and-drabbles (here);

@ranchthoughts (here);

@chickenstrangers (here).

Thanks for tagging me, sweeties! 🥰 Hope the new year is treating you well. 😍

Apologies for being a bit late with this, but after I got back from my 2023 year-end break there was a ton of stuff to attend to, with deadlines suddenly looming much closer than they had seemed looking through eggnog goggles. 👀

But anyway I have a bit of time before the next deadline, so I'm going to use this window to try and summarize my 2023 on Tumblr. 😁 (Some of the posts referenced below may not fall into the definition of "edit/gifset/analysis" but that's just me being honest: my output on Tumblr is definitely a bit of a mixed bag! 🤣)

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✨JANUARY 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST – A meme summarizing Greta Thunberg's epic takedown of toxic masculizard Andrew Tate, with the help of Jerry's Pizza boxes, Elon unbanning Andrew on Twitter, and the domino effect:

‌ (above) Post linked here

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FAVORITE POST – Of course it's something to do with Bad Buddy. 🤣 I posted about my experience viewing Bad Buddy's corner at the GMMTV Exhibition in Osaka, with photos and write‑ups about actual wardrobe and props that appeared in BBS (especially Baseball Mom and the Ep.12 memory board! 🤩):

‌ (above) Post linked here

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✨FEBRUARY 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST – A write-up about Jim and Li Ming's confrontation in Moonlight Chicken. More than just a teen-versus-(surrogate)-parent argument, the scene was also an insight into elder/junior dynamics and the importance of self-control in Thai culture:

(above) Post linked here

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FAVORITE POST – Oh don't make me choose between my kids! It's a toss-up: the more popular one is a Bad Buddy post about the pause before PatPran's second kiss on the rooftop in BBS Ep.5 (yes, THE Kiss™):

(above) Post linked here

But also sharing the Feb 2023 favorite spot in my heart is a post about GMMTV producer/director cameos (in My School President and other series) and what they might mean beyond the show:

(above) Post linked here

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✨MARCH 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST – This was written after Michelle Yeoh won a SAG Award for Best Actress and was nominated for an Oscar in the same category. I thought most of her newer fans wouldn't be aware of Tan Sri Dato' Seri Michelle's death-defying stuntwork (I'm really not exaggerating here) during her earlier years as an action hero in 80s and 90s Hong Kong moviedom, so I wrote a piece about it:

(above) Post linked here

If you've not watched the video linked therein yet, you should. And then carefully pick your jaw up off the floor (as I had to, the first time I watched this). Not to give too much away, but it involves Michelle riding a motorbike helmetless atop a rickety Malaysian train carriage with no safety measures at all. 👀

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FAVORITE POST – My favorite post for March 2023 is about the characters' names in Moonlight Chicken, and it's so long I had to break it into two parts. (Whenever it's an Aof show, you can usually expect the characters' names to carry some significance, as was the case with Last Twilight and Bad Buddy too.) So Part 1 of the Moonlight Chicken post is about the names in general, what they mean for their characters and any relevance they might have for the narrative:

(above) Post linked here

And Part 2 of my favorite post for March 2023 is about Wen's name, with a detour into political color symbolism in Moonlight Chicken:

(above) Post linked here

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✨APRIL 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST AND FAVORITE POST – It's the same post doing double duty, about the prevalence of the chue len Korn as a character name in Thai dramas:

(above) Post linked here

There aren't that many actors named Korn, so I found it quite befuddling that so many characters would have that name, but there you go. And "Korn Kob" Songsit Rungnopakunsi was ultimately crowned king of the Korn harvest: 😂

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✨MAY 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST – Our Skyy 2 x My School President's red-hot comment on Thai politics, with Principal Ratchanee (Gun's mom) announcing a subversion of the election process:

(above) Post linked here

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FAVORITE POST – My favorite post in May 2023 was a look at linguistic wordplay on some t-shirts in Moonlight Chicken, touching on the themes of generational change, eggplants, etymology and cute little weiners:

(above) Post linked here

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✨JUNE 2023✨

Well! Our Skyy 2 dropped its Bad Buddy episodes beginning 31 May 2023, so June 2023 was dominated by BBS for me. 😍

MOST POPULAR POST – A (sort-of) review and analysis of the Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars episodes:

(above) Post linked here

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FAVORITE POST – Do I really have to choose? Top of my own list is the most popular post above, but I'm going to list another one that was just a Phupha-whisker away in second place, and it's the OS2 x BBS filming locations:

(above) Post linked here

I love research and analysis, and tracking down the Bad Buddy filming locations was especially fulfilling because it combined the opportunity for me to exercise my bloodhound instincts and also find out more about this show that I love so much. (The locations were not very well-credited in the original BBS, unlike later GMMTV offerings, so it was very satisfying hunting down mystery BBS locales based almost solely on visual clues.) I've got almost the whole list of BBS locations now, although I've yet to post the last few (which are minor locations only).

So I'm very proud of the work I've done on identifying the BBS filming locations – and also a little alarmed at how powerful Google plus a bit of logical deduction can be.

Stay safe on the Internet people! Don't ever reveal too much private information about yourself, because my time doing this and other location posts has shown me that online info can all be tracked down and consolidated to identify what might have seemed to be pretty well-hidden at the start. Which bodes ominously for privacy and safety, online or off. 👀

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✨JULY 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST – A write-up about Bad Buddy's Nong Nao, Pat's beloved comfort object. But in the unraveling of Nong Nao's significance to BBS (and this was surprising to me too) we got further insight into Pat's character as well:

(above) Post linked here

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FAVORITE POST – OK, so the Nong Nao post above is quite my favorite for July 2023, but it also shares that spot atop my list of faves with this reply to a Bad Buddy Ask from @pandasmagorica about Pat and Pran's emotionally-laden verbal zingers on the Ep.5 rooftop, before they took that step forward beyond the point of no return and fell into The Kiss™:

(above) Post linked here

It's not just about how well the dialogue was written, or how well Ohm and Nanon brought the scene to life. Part of why this post is special to me is because the scene demonstrates how well-crafted BBS actually is, with an underlying logic and consistency that holds up no matter how hard you prod and poke at it (which, for the record, wasn't quite the case for OS2 x BBS). When you can analyze the characters, their actions and reactions in-depth as though they are real people with real motivations, and no inauthenticity shows through, you know there's been a whole lot of deep-rooted work sunk into it. I'm still in awe of what Khun Noppharnach has wrought. 👀

But there's another reason why this post is also one of my faves, and it's rather more personal.

It's because this Ask is the first one where @pandasmagorica lifted the Anon veil to use his own Tumblr name. And that was when I felt I'd made a new friend right here on Tumblr. 😍 I'm actually quite reticent in real-life, so I don't make friends easily – but I do treasure the friendships I have once made (even though I can be pretty bad at staying in touch; doesn't mean the feelings aren't there still – far from it). I'd learnt to recognize @pandasmagorica's voice even when his Asks were anonymous, and this particular Ask made my heart swell with happiness. So even though we haven't communicated directly in some time, dear @pandasmagorica, please know that you're still a treasured friend to me! 💖

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✨AUGUST 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST – This was a bit of throwaway fluff, an assembling of images pointing out the visual similarity between a promotional poster for Only Friends (on the same day as the show's debut, which was 12 August 2023) and a poster for the iconic 1990s sitcom Friends:

(above) Post linked here

Image posts and zingy hot takes always garner likes and reblogs so much more easily than long, thought-driven essays on Tumblr, especially when they ride on a wave of hype (as this one did, on the absolute tsunami welling for Only Friends). Doesn't mean the post or the series are really anything of substance though! 😂

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FAVORITE POST – I have more than one in August 2023, and they were momentous for me. 🤩 The first is my analysis (loving, yet incontrovertibly loopy to the point of near-lunacy) explaining my finding why Director Aof put the incongruous Baseball Mom t-shirt on Pat in Bad Buddy Episode 5. If you've not read the explanation yet, the answer will surprise you:

(above) Post linked here

There's also a Part 2, because as usual I had so much to say, and this second part explains why PatPran's Ep.7 rooftop encounter is also a parallel with (and counterbalance for) the Epic Rooftop Kiss in Ep.5.

Anyway, my other favorite post for August 2023 is also dear to me because it points out some very clever visual rhetoric in Be My Favorite that was carefully woven into a particular scene, taking up the clarion call for marriage equality in Thailand:

(above) Post linked here

Screenwriter/director Waa Waasuthep Ketpetch really piled on the magic into this one scene. It was fun to pick it apart and look at all the different elements, within what was otherwise an only somewhat complex and not too challenging series (that still managed to be highly entertaining nonetheless). 😍

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✨SEPTEMBER 2023✨

My MOST POPULAR POST and my FAVORITE POST are one and the same, which was an apology to any legitimate Tumblr user I might have blocked (as we were facing yet another onslaught of porn bots with believable names suddenly following our Tumblr blogs):

(above) Post linked here

I then got a few snarky comments (from people whose names I didn't recognize) letting me know that people whom I've blocked can't read the post. 😮

But that's not exactly true (this is Tumblr after all). 🤣

I've since found out that if you've been blocked, you can still view the blog that blocked you, as long as you read it in blog view but not dashboard view.

If you've been blocked, here are some salient points to know:

You can't search for that blog on Tumblr (but Tumblr's search function is pretty much rubbish anyway, and you can still find the blog with a Google search).

If you know the name of the blog, then typing the URL (in the address bar) using blog view format (as opposed to dashboard view format) will still bring you there. For the difference between blog view and dashboard view (using my own Tumblr as an example) – typing telomeke.tumblr.com into the address bar will take you to my Tumblr in blog view, while typing tumblr.com/telomeke into the address bar will open my blog in dashboard view. You can still view my Archive (if I haven't hidden it) and read my posts, even if I've blocked you.

This one should be obvious – you can't like, comment on or reblog any of a blog's posts if that blog has blocked you. You can't DM that blog either. You can send Asks, but they will not be received. And that's part of the delicious irony that Tumblr bestows if you block any hater troll from your blog – you can continue posting everything that set them off in the first place, and they will still be able to see it, but they can no longer send any negativity your way. (You can also troll them back with impunity, but why waste precious time and energy like that? You won't know if they've seen your trolling, just that they can. 🤷‍♂️)

Asking to be unblocked is a bit trickier if you've been mistaken for a bot and inadvertently blocked. You'll need to ask a friend with a Tumblr account to request the unblocking on your behalf, or you'll need to set up a new Tumblr account just to send in this new Ask/message.

Anyway, the point of my post above was to let newbies know how important it is to humanize your blog, so as not to be mistaken for a bot and blocked – it would be especially rueful if the blog that blocked you (thinking you were a bot) was one you followed because you liked the content in there!

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✨OCTOBER 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST – This was a jokey review of/(slash)/reaction to the newly-released Red Peafowl trailer:

youtube

(above) Post linked here

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FAVORITE POST – @pandasmagorica sent me an Ask about PatPran's sex life in Bad Buddy, and this was a fun look at the physical side of their love (that they, and Director Aof, kept mostly hidden from view):

(above) Post linked here

Because BBS is extremely self-referential, part of me now thinks they kept so much of PatPran's sex life under wraps in order to squeak by the ratings – this is what the cookout scene with Junior in Ep.11 seems to be telling us, IMO.

And they succeeded in getting a 13+ age rating, allowing Bad Buddy's message about LGBTQ+ positivity and growing into your authentic queer self to reach exactly the audience demographic that needs it (and of course even beyond them too 😊).

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✨NOVEMBER 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST – This was a look at the meanings of Mhok and Day's names in Last Twilight:

(above) Post linked here

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FAVORITE POST – I'm cackling with fairy godfather glee because I got to inflict the warm fuzzies on people in the Bad Buddy fandom, by helping them relive their first time watching The Epic Rooftop Kiss in BBS Ep.5 (on the two-year anniversary of that event).

YouTuber "Chib" had put together an absolutely genius montage of a myriad reaction videos to The Kiss™, and my post was simply a link to it. But the ensemble of gasps and outpouring of unbridled emotion onscreen had so vividly brought back memories of my own first time watching PatPran's rooftop moment that I just knew I had to share it. I think Bad Buddy fans who watch the video will absolutely see themselves in it:

youtube

(above) Post linked here

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✨DECEMBER 2023✨

MOST POPULAR POST – The Sign really happened in a big way when December 2023 came around, and my most popular post is testament to that. I wrote about the naga and garuda mythology underpinning the narrative (hat tip to @respectthepetty for getting the ball rolling 👍) and the subject seems to have resonated with a lot of viewers because the post is still getting notes a month later:

(above) Post linked here

But the post above really should be read in tandem with others that followed, because the series is really going all in with the naga and garuda, and there's lots to take away if you're a culture and linguistics fiend like I am. Additional info linked below: 🤩

Evil jellyfish (Tharn's pet name for Phaya, a mistranslation of the Thai แมงกะพรุนไฟ that actually means fire jellyfish, which is a nod at the flames of the garuda);

Nong Khai, naga fireballs and the dance of adversaries;

More naga and garuda references in Ep.4 (although the storytelling had become a bit muddled by then).

(above left) Post linked here; (above right, top) post linked here; (above right, bottom) post linked here

The props, lighting and wardrobe are also playing their part to add to the visual feast of naga and garuda references. I may post more about these if I can find the time. 🤩

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FAVORITE POST – All the above (Signposts? 😂) are dear to me. But tying with them for top spot on my favorites list at the end of 2023 is this one, a tongue-in-cheek look at QL objects of carnal affection:

(above) Post linked here

Not meant to be taken seriously (and maybe I shouldn't have been focusing on the actors themselves instead of the characters they play) but it's all in the name of good fun. 🤣

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And that's a wrap! 🥳

Dunno who to tag next because I'm so late with this, and I think everyone will have already played by now. So I'm just going to tag creators at random (excluding those already tagged above) – if you've already done your post, please send me a link because I'd love to read (and re-read) what you've done!

@waitmyturtles

@grapejuicegay

@neuroticbookworm

@airenyah

@absolutebl

@williamrikers

@wen-kexing-apologist

@respectthepetty

@pandasmagorica

@recentadultburnout

@visualtaehyun

@inventedfangirling

@dimplesandfierceeyes

@bengiyo

@befuddledcinnamonroll

@btwinlines

@twig-tea

@blmpff

@hereforlou

@solitaryandwandering

@brazilian-whalien52

@hughungrybear

@callipigio

@dudeyuri

@kattahj

@jemmo

@non-binarypal7

@lovelyghostv

@isaksbestpillow

@shortpplfedup

@rythyme

@squeakygeeky

@starryalpacasstuff

Apologies if I've missed anyone out – if I've ever liked and/or reblogged a post of yours, please know that you're special to me too and do feel free to play along. (And do tag me please, so I can read your post! 😍)

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P.S. This site (JetBlackCode) is super-helpful in searching for and filtering your posts: 👍

#tag game #2023: a summary #YouTube

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