#past lovers

[twinnflowrr]

i like romantic, genuine, &protective men

[mrsmangi]

past life - luigi mangione

♡ summary: luigi has never dreamed, but one night he finds you—familiar in a way he can't fathom. the dream of you blurs reality and fiction, leaving him yearning for more. ♡ w.c.: 1.6k ♡ a/n: hi. this is my first luigi fic. i was inspired by the post of luigi that has been going around about how moles are where your past lovers have once kissed you. i had to write something about it. enjoy!

—

Luigi does not dream. It’s a strange phenomena to him–one that draws his lower lip between his teeth and nibbles until the taste of blood floods his mouth. His friends are always telling him about their dreams: ones that are frightening, some exhilarating, others that are lustful. Dreams are illogical, irrational, and confusing.

There has never been an instance in Luigi’s life that he has been inherently ungrateful that dreams do not come to him in his slumber. He has other things to focus on: school, his family, his friends. Plenty of things keep him busy on a day-to-day business. Dreams are no fuss, but even he has to admit: when his friends are recalling their dreams to him, with stars in their eyes, he wonders if he’s missing out on something. That’s what bothers him.

He ponders it for hours at a time. Why doesn’t he dream? When he sleeps, why is he pulled into a vast pit of nothingness? He’s done his research, but it all just points him to the same direction: difficulty sleeping properly. But how? He’s done everything right: he gets 8 hours of sleep a day, wakes up in the morning without trouble, and feels properly rested each time. What is he missing?

Lack of REM sleep and fucked memory recollection just can’t be it.

Remembering your dreams can’t be distilled down to a science, but there are some tips you can try–

“Bullshit,” he groans tiredly, tilting his head back and dragging a hand down his face. With a sigh, he shuts his laptop and begins to prepare himself for bed. In the shower, it annoys him. As he brushes his teeth, gazing at his face, it annoys him. When he’s finally beneath the warm sheets of his bed, he is exasperated. As he falls asleep that night, Luigi’s thoughts drift into a thoughtless abyss and sleep overcomes him.

–

Something shifts that night in Luigi’s slumber. He can feel it in his bones, in his head that pulses with pain. He lets out an uncomfortable noise, shifting in bed. He suddenly becomes aware of the bed he’s in: one that doesn’t feel like his own.

There’s a soft linen beneath him, the kind he can’t imagine buying because it’s too expensive to afford, but somehow there it is. The smell of the sheets is faint, not entirely familiar, but not unpleasant. A little floral and musk, like the lingering scent of perfume.

The bed creaks and he feels himself stiffen. There’s someone beside him.

He wants to open his eyes, but his body won’t allow him. He really wishes it would because there’s a stranger in his bed (or is this his bed?). He feels the soft pressure of their arm against his own and hears the soft hum of their breath.

“Luigi.”

The sound of it is so clear, like a bell ringing out, and he realizes, even in his paralyzed state, it sounds different on this stranger’s lips than it ever has on anyone else’s. It’s quiet. It’s intimate. A tenderness he’s never quite known. If he could, he thinks he would laugh, but all he does is pause, stunned to a place that rests between awe and disbelief.

He’s dreaming. This is finally it. He’s dreaming and he knows it.

The air is thick around him, heavy with silence until they break it once more.

“Luigi,” they repeat, this time a bit louder, more insistent. It sounds like a girl. Her voice is warm and soft and so close–he feels like he could lean into her and let himself fall.

His eyes finally flutter open.

The first thing he sees is your smile. You’re looking at him with a calm, knowing expression. The sunlight catches your eyes as it slips through the cracks of your curtains. The room is bathed in the early morning light, the kind that makes everything look softer and unreal.

As he drinks in your appearance, Luigi is sure he’s never met you before. Your skin glows in the slanted light, a golden stripe drapes across half your face down to your bare neck.

It’s the oddest thing. He doesn’t question any of it as your smile softens and grows. The kind of smile he could never find himself deserving of, but somehow he’s found it anyway. Then, you lean in, pressing two soft kisses to each of his cheeks. One after the other–each more tender than the last. Your lips peck his cheek beneath his left eye, and linger further down when you bring them to the right side of his face, near the curve of his cheekbone.

At this gesture, he can’t help himself. He stares at you as though you’ve just grown two heads.

You laugh softly and melodically, as if his bewilderment is the most natural thing in the world.

“Luigi,” you say, playfully. “You’re staring.”

“I–,” he starts, voice catching in his throat, but you shake your head, still smiling.

“You should get used to this, you know,” you tease, rolling to your side. The blankets shift away from your body and your bare back is revealed to him. You stretch lazily, and he can’t find it in himself to look away. He watches you, transfixed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You pause, crossing your arms over your chests to cover your breasts. You look over your shoulder at him, hair glowing in the light like a halo. “Except to make us breakfast,” you grin and lean over once more to quickly peck his lips. You push yourself off the bed and pick up a plain white tee, previously discarded, from the ground, throwing it over your head. It fits you, just a bit too big, covering your body. He vaguely realizes it's his.

“Breakfast?” he murmurs. The word feels foreign on his tongue, as he attempts to piece together the pieces of a puzzle he can’t recall beginning.

“Yes, breakfast,” you reply, laughing again. You make your way to his side of the bed and place, yet again, another loving kiss to his forehead. The entire motion feels so natural, so lived-in, that he swears this isn’t the first time. It can’t be, but he doesn’t even know your name.

“Unless you’re planning to keep staring at me all day,” you call over your shoulder as you make your way to the door.

I might, he thinks and he startles himself. That doesn’t sound like himself, at all. Before he can say anything, though, before he can make sense of any of it, the room begins to fade. The light dims, you’ve walked out the door and your voice is growing distant, and he feels himself slipping away. He’s being pulled into something more uncertain than this.

He’s waking up. Panic sets in, but before he can get up to follow you, it’s too late.

–

He awakes with a sharp gasp, chest heaving and back aching. His heart pounds erratically, thrumming against his ribcage frantically, while a dull sting blooms in his chest. A longing he doesn’t fully understand settles in the pit of his stomach.

When he looks around the room, he’s certain that it’s his own, but it feels colder, heavier, emptier. His blinds are drawn shut, no traces of sunlight slip through to warm his face.

He sits up slowly, hands gripping the sheets as he attempts to ground himself. His cheeks burn faintly, and he swears he can still feel it–the plush of your lips.

Luigi feels his breathing become uneven as he swings his legs over the edge of his bed. The cool floor beneath his feet jolts him into wakefulness. Something inside him screams–check, see, know. With great rendition, he stumbles out of the room, his steps unsteady but urgent. His mind chases phantom traces of his dream–the very first dream he’s ever remembered–as if he can catch it before it vanishes from his grasp completely.

When he reaches the bathroom, his hand trembles as he flicks on the light. The stark, fluorescent glow floods the confined space, and for a moment he’s blinded. Then, he steps forward but hesitates, afraid of what he might, or might not, find. Shaking his head, he leans over the sink, his gaze meeting his reflection.

His face stares back at him, disheveled and familiar, but he doesn’t look away. He stares at himself with an intensity he’s never felt before. Eyes dark and searching himself, darting over every inch of his face–his brows, furrowed; his cheekbones, sharp and shadowed in the harsh lighting; his wild curls of brown hair, tousled from his sleep. He scans himself for something–anything–that might prove what he felt was real.

His eyes trail lower, to the faint flush of his cheeks, and there, just beneath his right eye, is a small mole. His gaze lingers on it for a moment before shifting to the left side of his face, where the second one rests near the curve of his cheekbone. He lets out a sharp gasp, clutching the sink until his knuckles begin to lighten. Though he’s seen them a thousand times before, something about them feels different now, as if they’ve been marked. By you.

Something stirs in his chest, a sensation that’s warm and blazing. The flicker of a flame.

He doesn’t even realize how much he’s trembling until he releases the sink from his grasp, hands raising to touch his face. His fingertips brush over the spots where your lips pressed against his skin. The memory of your warmth lingers, faint but undeniable.

It sends a shiver through him–not from the chill of his bathroom, but from the inexplicable comfort it brings. His chest tightens as a soft, quivering breath escapes him.

“It couldn’t have been real,” he says aloud, softly, as if it could make the statement indisputably true. Still, the warmth that blooms beneath his fingers says otherwise.

For the first time in his life, Luigi feels the ache of what he’s been missing all along.

[lofi-fics]

I'm currently writing this, but I'm so excited and impatient that I had to share the mood board I made for my upcoming Gator Tillman Soulmate AU fic. 🥹

(Also, beeg-massive-huge thank you to @gatorgirlie for chatting with me about the story, ilysm and hope it delivers. 🤍)

Invisible Strings

Gator Tillman may not know it yet, but he has a soulmate.

He didn't typically do "girlfriends", just the occasional one-night stand or a trip to the titty bar with the boys. His focus was primarily on work and making his daddy proud.

But, when a man named Ole Munch shows up to a business meeting with his adoptive daughter (you) at his side, you immediately realize that you know Gator Tillman...

And you have been deeply in love with him for a long, long time.

[baresands]

PAST LOVERS PAST LOVERS PAST LOVERS PAST LOVERS

[alexex8sts]

Yandere HSR rambles

TW: Yandere, ooc, mentions of pregnancy

In a past life, you and Blade had been married… Yingxing was his name back then, now he was Blade. Every night he was plagued with flashbacks of you, of your smile, of your eyes, your dreams, your love. It had gotten to the point where his goal wasn't only to kill Dan-Heng but to find you… When he arrived with Kakfa on Xianzhou Luofu he saw you… Eyes widened as he watched you laugh as a giant lion jumped on you and Jing Yuan held you close. Oh… Oh no… This won't do.. Not at all… You loved him.. You loved Blade.. Not that lazy general (extra angst is if you're pregnant!! I'm not that good at this stuff )

p.s I'm not the best at angst, but if I get any future requests I'll try!!

[queenbeez119]

Idk why I’m writing this, it just kinda sprang up, but I rlly like the topic of it so far :3

Chapter 1 of Rendezvous

“Are you kidding me.. Who ate the leftover FOOD,” Cole growled, scanning the faces of the crew. After battling for the last few days, it was needless to say that hunger was expected, finally back at their little home. But to Triangle’s advantage, he did not need food. Not at all. His being was not limited by a ravenous stomach. So unless there was a nuclear reactor around, he stayed content, smirking as Monkey’s brother ravaged through their make-shift fridge.

Goji snorted out a laugh, almost feeling Monkey freeze in his place, guilt melting from his form. He had his back turned, before the silence practically heightened the noise of his swallow.

But his companion was not a one to back down, so he proudly turned, facing the intense stare of a very grumpy Cole.

“Those were our last RATIONS!”

“Okay, well in my defense, I got there first, so.. you want more, the city is right down there, pal.”

Ni butted in, sensing the tension build, “C’mon guys, it was only a—“ “GRRr!”

However, the Noodle’s voice was interrupted by Cole’s grunt of annoyance, sliding skillfully across the table to tackle a shrieking Monkey. He almost got away, but Cole grabbed him by the legs, and both apes landed hard on the ground. The thud made the table shiver, and a small cup shattered onto the floor, earning a groan from Ichi’s tired voice. The hydra’s eye bags became very defined over the last few nights. Not able to sleep as nightmares have come to plague him as well. Triangle too had those stains of restless sleep, but that wasn’t new to him, not from the billowing insomnia that always clawed at him.

“Just to make this clear, you guys are cleaning this up afterwards,” the Noodle said, sharing a mutual look of tire with Goji.

But two continued to wrestle, as if not having heard the hydra—grappling with each other and pulling at each other’s faces. “You guys are going to wake up Russell..” Goji groaned, tilting his head upwards in annoyance. He gripped his pillow tighter, using it to cover his ears.

It wouldn’t solve anything, but sometimes.. you just needed a good beatdown. And a part of Triangle almost wanted to join in, seeing how fun (but still annoying) the struggle seemed. Watching from his resting place on the couch as his tail splayed over the edge. But he felt himself too tired to stir.. that was.. until a certain someone crossed his mind. He froze, letting the realization sink in.

Right..

“Uhm hey, guys,” he said, feeling his bones crack and pop as he lifted himself. “I need to go talk with.. you know..”

Yet seeing that his comment was not heard—the only acknowledgement being a nod of understanding from Ichi—Triangle headed for the door anyway, without another word. And unbeknownst to them all, a gentle excitement made soft curls form at the corners of his lips, hidden behind his turned back.

He then left.

The sound of the shut door got the two raging simians to finally stop in their madness, making Monkey frown and Cole perk up.

“Where’s he going?” Monkey questioned with a groan, but was surprised to see Cole’s building smirk as he eyed the hydra knowingly. Ghidorah rolled his eyes at the ape, before he continued arrogantly.

”Heh.. Looks like Goji’s back at it,” Cole said, smug.

Monkey paused, his frown deepening as his brother got off of him, heading to sprawl himself to rest lazily on the couch.

…

”Back at what..?”

[potato-plastic]

Y’all I’m just now remembering Garcia telling Robby “one day you’ll make a great ex husband” and while hilarious it also does wonders for the Robby and Dennis ex husband agenda I’ve been seeing on ao3. And honestly good for them! It made me want to pic up the fic with that plot 💀