follow the seeds of the heavenly fruit

✧.*take a bite*⁠.⁠✧

[anarseed]

my heart cracks slowly, spilling its seeds.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Anar ..••°°°°••.. twenty-one ..°°••....••°°.. he/him

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Tell them that you weren't hungry, tell them you followed the pomegranates seeds because they tasted like blood, like love.

-Pauline Albanese, The Closed Doors

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

last updated on October 10th, 2025.

est. 2024  anarseed — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost or plagiarise my content.

[guavamandering]

… <- love letting my dots speak for themselves #mydots #myellipses

[satoruined]

geto used to kiss you after missions. deeply.

greedy, almost juvenile in his fervour—palms cupping your face, lips on yours before you even had time to say hello. your lips, your breath, your touch: his reward. like a child choking down bitter medicine, then chasing it with something sweet.

but something changed. he’d press a hand to the nape of your neck, lean in like he meant to kiss you… and then, at the last second, his lips would skim past yours. a chaste peck to your temple or cheek. the corner of your mouth, if anything. anywhere but where you wanted him most.

ingesting curses had always been part of his technique. but lately, it had become unbearable. the aftertaste coated his tongue like bile-soaked gauze. but what he feared most was the association: like some sort of fucked-up classical aversion. what once brought him comfort—you—could be irrevocably rewired into revulsion. (no, he wouldn’t allow something so foul to embed itself in the memory of you. that would be desecration.)

kisses became rare. only when he was sure the aftertaste was gone, when he’d cleansed his mouth with tea or menthol rinse, waited hours. only then did he allow himself the indulgence.

you were so sweet and understanding about it, too. never once complained, though he could see the hurt in your eyes each time he shied away.

years later, standing alone in his temple, he presses two fingers to his lips and realises with a pang of regret:

he should’ve kissed you more.

[samjacksonslefttesticle]

i’ve gone back into my cage cuz i was doing much better in my cage actually

[angelbabymikaa]

can i blow raspberries on your tummy before i go down on you or are you gonna be weird about it :/

[rebang]

yahoo yippie

[krroppi]

i have been working on this between both jobs for a while u-u

[siennayaps]

You blurted out “Make me a mommy” while sex last night so Suguru HAD to tease you for it today. (Fluff)

You’re still half-asleep when Suguru’s voice cuts through the quiet of your room. “Good morning, mommy,” he says, and you instantly freeze, your cheeks burning.

“Wh—what did you just call me?” you manage, fumbling with the blanket.

He leans closer, that mischievous grin on his face. “Just… remembering something you said last night,” he murmurs, eyes sparkling.

Your heart skips. Of course he remembered. Your silly, flustered words—“make me a mommy”—had clearly stuck in his mind.

Even getting out of bed isn’t safe. Every time you reach for your coffee, he appears behind you, wrapping strong arms around your waist. “Morning, soft mommy,” he whispers again, pressing a kiss to your neck. You squirm, giggling, trying to push him away, but secretly loving it.

By breakfast, he’s relentless. Every bite you take comes with a teasing remark. “Do mommy’s pancakes taste as good as they did… last night?”

You sputter, nearly dropping your fork. “Suguru! Stop!”

He just laughs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Stop? But mommy likes it, doesn’t she?”

The day doesn’t let up. On a simple walk, he squeezes your hand and murmurs, “Do mommy’s feet get tired?” or, “Is mommy feeling hungry again? Maybe I should get a snack ready.”

You groan dramatically, pretending to scowl, but your heart is melting. Every little tease is wrapped in warmth, affection, and the softest devotion.

By evening, the teasing softens. Sitting on the couch, he rests his head against yours. “You know,” he whispers, “if I’m going to make you a mommy someday… I want to take the best care of you first.”

You look up at him, heart fluttering. “Maybe… someday,” you whisper back.

Suguru’s eyes soften, no smirk this time, just quiet love. “Then we’ll wait… together. But for now, mommy gets all my attention.”

And as you lean into him, wrapped in his arms, you realize that being his “mommy,” even just in words, feels like the sweetest, most cherished thing in the world. Every teasing word, every glance, every gentle touch reminds you that he adores you completely.

Everything about today—the laughter, the blushes, the warmth—makes your heart full. Because with Suguru, every playful tease is love, and every moment spent with him is everything you could ever want.

[maicherrypie]

Fawk I love geto

[anton--rayne]

i am surrounded by many smart women on a dying microblogging website so you better watch how you speak to me buddy

[electrofizz]

eldersalt fluff part 2

awkward old men 🧍‍♀️

[mysterytiredmeow-deactivated202]

Reblog to let prev know their presence is wanted

[sweethearticism]

𐔌 𖹭 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐 . ִֶָ๋

ᡴꪫ. fluff & biting 𖹭 f. reader ˖ ࣪ꮽ˳

suguru geto has a biting problem.

you wake up? he's latched to your shoulder. you fall asleep? hope you can do that with his maw on your waist. you're idly creeping through the house, late at night, in need of a last minute snack — bam! so is he. and he thinks your arm searching the fridge is the perfect one. ( you slapped the shit out of him in shock, but he considers that a price to pay ).

don't read a book near him. don't lay there all soft and still. it's like you're tempting him; like you want him to creep closer and find an excuse to latch onto you.

maybe it's the possessive itch in him. maybe he just enjoys the crescents of teeth marks on your pretty flesh.

or maybe.

just maybe.

it calms him down a little.

what is he? an animal? he blames you instead. how is he supposed to keep his hands - or teeth - to himself when you're curled up beside him on the sofa, idly scrolling through your phone with your pretty legs and thighs angled towards him.

and you're in shorts? nah, you were asking for it. he'd look once. look twice. wait until you were on some random recipe video he knows will hone all your attention.

licks his lips.

waits one more second.

your legs shifts — now!

"sugu-!" your squeaks are at least 50% the reason for his assault. the other half is your hand shot into his dark hair. your nails on his scalp. you look down just in time to see his eyes fluttering back and groan as his jaw flexes around your thigh fat.

"what is your problem?"

"mph."

as if 'mph' was all the excuse he needed. that and his drooping violet eyes and thick lashes kissing his cheeks. as though he's been sedated. a beast quelled. the only energy he has left is reserved for his ringed, calloused hands slipping around your legs.

he slumps. you sigh at his weight and turn your reprimanding grip into a small ruffle. "you're such a creep, you know that?"

that earns you another bite. this time to your inner thigh. when you jolt and lightly push on his head — you'll catch that mischievous look in his dull eyes peering at you from beneath his lashes.

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝

[samuraseiichi]

phainon is a geek for the Chrysos Heirs game and he oshis the crown prince . he goes to a con and sees somebody cosplaying his favorite character that looks like he stepped right out and suddenly hes flushed hands sweaty trying to ask for a photo while the cosplayer thinks hes mega cute and then

[pinkgvts]

had a dream about boothill and these two were seared into the backs of my eyelids

[anarseed]

shadow milk cookie you cunt he's always the last one standing

[gojodickbig]

waking up satoru in the middle of the night and telling him you want cookies. (ᵕ•_•)

it’s like 3:10 in the morning when you poke at satoru’s bare shoulder.

“toru,” you mumble, with all the guilt in your guts.

he groans into the pillow, all white hair messy and sticking up like he fought a war in his sleep. “baby,” he mutters, his voice still half asleep. “why’re you awake? it’s—” he squints toward the clock on the nightstand, “—too early.”

you chew on your lip, suddenly feeling kind of dumb but too deep in it to stop now. “i want cookies.”

he goes still for a second, then turns his head slowly toward you with one eye barely open. “you what?”

“cookies,” you repeat, curling into the blanket like that makes it sound less ridiculous. “like, the chewy chocolate chip ones? i saw them on tiktok while scrolling and now i can’t stop thinking about them.”

for a second he just stares at you. “sweetheart, you woke me up at three a.m. for cookies?”

you nod.

he sighs into the pillow again, but then he sits up, stretches his long arms over his head, yawns and swings his legs out of the bed.

“wait—where are you going?” you ask, blinking up at him.

“to get you cookies,” he says simply, running a hand through his hair.

“no, no, i was just joking!” you say quickly, grabbing his wrist before he can stand all the way. “i didn’t mean it like that, toru. please get back to bed. you have work in like, two hours.”

he looks down at you, lips curving into that lazy little grin that always makes your stomach flutter. “nuh uh,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “my girl said she wants cookies, so she’ll have cookies.”

“toru, seriously, i’m not making you drive at three a.m. for—”

“baby,” he interrupts, still smiling, “you think i’m gonna let you crave something and not get it for you?”

you stare at him, heart melting in your chest because he looks so unbothered about the fact that you woke him up on a work night at three a.m. just for stupid cookies.

shirtless, sleepy and somehow still the most determined man on earth.

“you’re insane,” you whisper, laughing a little as he searches for sweatpants.

“insanely in love,” he mutters, pulling on a hoodie. “now tell me what kind of cookies we’re talking about. the thick, gooey, chocolate chip ones, right? you said chewy?”

you flop back on the bed with a groan, burying your face in the pillow. “you’re actually doing this.”

“mhm,” he hums, already sliding his phone out to check which stores are open. “you got a video or something? i need to know what they look like.”

you reach for your phone on the nightstand and hand it to him, the screen lighting up with the video you were watching before you woke him. “these,” you mumble, pointing at the gooey cookies with melted chocolate and sea salt flakes.

he watches the short clip, then nods like it’s the most serious mission he’s ever taken.

“got it. i’ll be back soon.”

“are you sure?” you say, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips.

“yes,” he says, leaning down to kiss you again. “go back to sleep, baby.”

you watch him leave, barefoot and humming under his breath, hoodie halfway zipped and still half-asleep.

and when the door closes behind him, you can’t stop grinning into the pillow, already imagining him showing up twenty minutes later with a paper bag in one hand and that stupid proud smile on his face.

you fall asleep before he’s even back and when you wake up to the smell of chocolate and your boyfriend gently nudging you awake, whispering, “hey sleepyhead, got your cookies,” you can’t help but laugh — because of course he did.

of course he actually did.