The best fics are the ones that recognize that although Luke Skywalker may APPEAR on the outside to be a normal friendly twink who happens to have cool powers, especially when contrasted with such ship partners as Boba or Din or even Han, he is arguably the scariest person alive in the galaxy around the prequel era. AND, crucially, he is also a fundamentally weird guy. This man was homeschooled on a rural farm his entire life and then apprenticed to a swamp gremlin who showed him how to tap into the cosmic power of the universe. He blew up the death star age 19, killing approx 2 million-ish Imperials. He is a vortex of Force power that can communicate with the ghosts of dead Jedi. He’s staring into the distance and mumbling to himself and doing Yoda aphorisms and casually pulling out the “yeah I could crush that guy into a paste with my mind (:” and nobody around him knows what to do with that. I think he is a character who has very little frame of reference for how a Jedi or a person in general is supposed to act and there is some thing about him that is by necessity really fucking weird and a little scary but he’s so nice that it can throw you off the scent a little bit. Thanks for coming to my TED talk
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satoru physically withers and crumbles every time you return his belongings. he doesn’t know how to tell you that he can only accidentally on purpose leave his glasses on your nightstand, or his jacket on your couch, or his shirt in your laundry so many times before he loses his mind. every time you don’t take he bait, he folds into himself and wonders why you don’t love him anymore and it costs him $22.50 to hear ieiri tell him to suck it up and use his words because he literally has to buy her company (and drinks).
but when you do take the bait, when you do wear his things, satoru thinks it’s all worth it. he can’t explain why it does what it does to him. it’s a sinister kind of possession he wants to have over you, knowing you’re your own person, free to do as you please, but also knowing you’re caged in him. it’s a lovesick kind of gooeyness that melts his heart seeing you fumble with the sleeves of a sweater that’s too long for you. it’s the vision of you seeing you drowning in him—in his clothes, in his things, in him, in him, in him. he’s selfish, he wants to consume you in as many ways as possible, wants you to drown in him, would die happily knowing you were one tenth as enraptured by him as he is with you. he doesn’t know how or why or when you gained so much power over him, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t want you to ever stop, so if he has to keep pretending to leave his clothes and bags and glasses around then so be it.
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soft glow ✰ m. riddle
summary: sleepy mornings with matthéo
pairing: bf!matthéo x reader
warnings: slightly suggestive at the end, but nothing really other than that!! just tooth rotting fluff n théo who’s soft for u and no one else!! :’))
note: hi!! i’m not sure how i feel about this one but i still think it’s a lil tiny bit cute so i’m posting!! feel free to send in requests!!
masterlist
comments & reblogs are so appreciated! <3
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when you wake up, matthéo’s bedroom is warm with the soft glow of morning. golden rays of sunlight peek stubbornly through his drapes, and soft white noise filters steadily in through the window.
as you slowly come to, you begin to register the familiar sensation of matthéo’s touch. his calloused fingers glide almost curiously across your face; carefully tracing each curve and dip, as if to memorize your every detail.
with a soft hum, you finally blink open your eyes - squinting into the sunlight. you roll towards matthéo with a yawn, offering him a sleepy smile. “hi”
matthéo grins, smoothing a mess of tangled hair away from your face. “hi, darling.” his voice is raspy and painfully fond - and your heart aches pleasantly behind your ribcage. his hand slides casually to the back of your neck, and you quietly hope that your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “how’d you sleep?”
“me? oh - i slept terribly” you’re aiming for deadpan in a desperate attempt to play it cool, but you wear a giddy little grin that almost certainly gives you away. “worst sleep of my life.”
“oh yeah?”
you nod with all the conviction you can muster - which admittedly isn’t much. “mhmm” with a little stretch, you’re leaning upwards to kiss his cheek. “you snore louder than my granddad.”
matthéo scoffs in mock offence, fingers poking teasingly at your side. “‘s that so?”
you nod once more, trying desperately to stifle a giggle. matthéo’s teasing is relentless, and you squirm clumsily away from his prodding fingers. in the end - it doesn’t take long for you to give in. “okay! okay - fine!” you laugh breathlessly. “you don’t snore and i had the best sleep of my life. is that what you wanted to hear?”
“yes actually. because you on the other hand - you do snore and it’s really quite loud - sort of like-”
“matthéo!” he’s being mean on purpose and you pretend to hate it. “i do not snore!”
“okay but how do you know you don’t snore, hm? i mean - if you’re asleep when it happens…” he tugs you towards his bare chest, one arm wrapped firmly around your back. “you wouldn’t really know, would you?” he punctuates his words with a soft kiss to your forehead, and you all but melt into his gentle embrace.
“i hate you.” with your face smushed against matthéo’s chest, your words come out awkward and muffled. “like - i really, really can’t stand you sometimes.”
he tugs you impossibly closer with a pleased laugh. “don’t lie, sweetheart”
“i’m not lying!”
he tilts your head upwards before slowly kissing your lips. you feel warm all over, and you chase him with a quiet whine when he pulls away. “if you really hate me, why were you screaming m-”
“you’re so awful!”
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Feeling incredibly stressed about the fact that every time Lou stated fabian was inviting people to his house, Brennan would ask specifying questions on WHO is invited and the answer would be “everyone even the freshman!” Or “every one in class” like NOOO THE RAT GRINDERS ARE COMING TO YOUR HOUSE FABIAN!!! THEY ARE IN UR HOUSE!!! IN YOUR WALLS RN !! DANGER!!🚨
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