[azlumire]

@AZLUMIRE

♡ . — ꒰ azzy ꒱ she/her. sfw writer. side account.

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[azlumire]

a/n: most of the lip glosses i own taste like ass, so imagine my surprise the other day when i finally got my hands on a actually good tasting-y lip gloss. double whammy its sparkly.

also how do people get those really pretty banners on their works... someone help a gal out here 🙏🏼

characters: satoru gojo, yuuji itadori, hinata shouyo, denki kaminari, kuroo tetsuro + more

You gaze at yourself in the mirror, admiring the shimmering of your clear lip gloss.

Puckering your lips, you grin in satisfaction as you taste the cotton candy. Thank goodness, it didn't taste like metal and abandoned hopes in dreams in a lip gloss container.

"Babe?"

You hum, turning around and sending a soft smile to your adorkable boyfriend, who was attempting—key word... attempting—to act nonchalant.

He was even leaning against the doorframe. Aww... You love him, he was just so dorky at times.

"Yes?" You ask, watching as he strides towards you with a smile, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips.

That you just glossed.

You sigh, sending him a frown when he pulled away.

"Sweet." He mumbled, rubbing his lips together with furrowed eyebrows.

You raise a eyebrow at him, as his gaze falls upon your lips.

Oh no, he isn't about to do what you think he's going to do, is he?

He pulls you towards him, kissing your forehead, your nose, your jawline, and then.....

Kissed your lips, once, twice... A third time... A fourth time? What was his goal, to rub off all of your lip-gloss?? (Spoiler, it was.)

"Hi. I love you, most of the time, but you just ruined my lip gloss." You say with a scowl, narrowing your eyes at him as he inoccently bats his eyes.

"What lipgloss?"

[azlumire]

"Quit your job, babe."

You scoff, not even glancing up from the cash register as you tapped in Satoru motherfucking Gojo's order.

Can it even be called an order? It was more like an entire grocery list filled with random things that would have to be blended or shaken together.

You feel bad for the cup.

"Gojo. I'm in the middle of my shift," you harshly whisper, narrowing your eyes as he shuffles his feet and sends you a sad pout. "But..."

"No buts!"

"But.. I got you something!"

"I can see that," you deadpan, staring past Gojo at the enormous bouquet of flowers he was trying to hide. Not that he could really hide them—they were far too large to fit behind his back.

He grins, his whole, unfairly beautiful, unfairly hot and adorable grin splitting his face like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. You blink, momentarily blinded by his Lovebeam Smile ™ and instead scowl as he bashfully hands the boquet to you.

"Light of my life, star of my eyes, I giveth thee..." He pauses, racking his brain for words to use. Yeah, okay, you wannabe Shakespeare, maybe try a little harder.

Poor dude is probably rolling in his grave right now, his poor words being violated by Gojo himself saying it.

"A presenth as beautiful... Eth... As you."

Nevermind, Shakespeare isn't rolling around anymore, he was woken from the dead—and probably haunting Gojo right now.

You close your eyes.

"And I also got you dinner." Gojo murmurs, taking the time to scope the areas of your face.

He dreamily smiled, as you open your eyes to see his blue ones carving a hole into your face and with a grudging sigh, you took the flower.

Fuck, they were your favourite colour.

Double fuck, your manager was glaring a hole into the left side of your face.

"...We'll have that drink right out for you, sir." You say, pushing the flowers back towards him. His face falls, and he stares at you with puppy eyes, "Do you not like the flowers? I can find better ones, I swe-"

"Take the flowers back home, 'Toru. I love them, and they're pretty, but there's no space here to put them." You say, reaching over to pat his cheek.

He caught your hand with a pout, his hands threading together with yours, giving you a brilliant beam. "...Quit your job. You know that I've got more then enough money to support us."

You smile at him, giving in to the urge to press a gentle kiss to his left cheek, watching as his white eyelashes flutter and his blue eyes latch onto your every move.

"I'll think about it."

[azlumire]

In your personal opinion, that's also very valid, nerds are hot.

Nerds are soooo hot.

You grin, lazily staring at the said hot nerd with a affectionate smile.

His blond hair that was usually well put together was messy, flopping around his forehead like limp strands of sphaghetti noodles (okay maybe that was too descriptive) and a thin frame of glasses sat on his nose.

In his left hand, he held a book—which was unfair because he should be holding you instead—sitting on his furnished leather armchair with the dignity of a majestic king.

You draw out a sigh, resting your chin on your hands.

He glances up at you over his glasses, sending you a small smile. "Is something the matter, my love?"

Your heart melted. Like it always does whenever he says that stupid pet name in his stupidly deep voice.

"Is the book good?" You ask, watching as he closes the book to beckon you over with his hand, with you happily obliging.

"Mm. It's a classic," He whispers, wrapping a arm around your waist and gently tugging you over to him once you get close enough. You smile, hugging him and slightly shiver feeling his warm breath on the contrast of your cold skin.

"What's it about?"

"I wouldn't want to bore my beloved to death with my rambles of classic literature." Oh, there he goes again. You loved the way the words twisted on his tongue, forming sentences that sounded like a cryptic prophecy.

"C'mon. Talk nerdy to me." You quipped, threading your hand with his.

And with a long suffering sigh of affection, he did.

[azlumire]

"Quit your job, babe."

You scoff, not even glancing up from the cash register as you tapped in Satoru motherfucking Gojo's order.

Can it even be called an order? It was more like an entire grocery list filled with random things that would have to be blended or shaken together.

You feel bad for the cup.

"Gojo. I'm in the middle of my shift," you harshly whisper, narrowing your eyes as he shuffles his feet and sends you a sad pout. "But..."

"No buts!"

"But.. I got you something!"

"I can see that," you deadpan, staring past Gojo at the enormous bouquet of flowers he was trying to hide. Not that he could really hide them—they were far too large to fit behind his back.

He grins, his whole, unfairly beautiful, unfairly hot and adorable grin splitting his face like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. You blink, momentarily blinded by his Lovebeam Smile ™ and instead scowl as he bashfully hands the boquet to you.

"Light of my life, star of my eyes, I giveth thee..." He pauses, racking his brain for words to use. Yeah, okay, you wannabe Shakespeare, maybe try a little harder.

Poor dude is probably rolling in his grave right now, his poor words being violated by Gojo himself saying it.

"A presenth as beautiful... Eth... As you."

Nevermind, Shakespeare isn't rolling around anymore, he was woken from the dead—and probably haunting Gojo right now.

You close your eyes.

"And I also got you dinner." Gojo murmurs, taking the time to scope the areas of your face.

He dreamily smiled, as you open your eyes to see his blue ones carving a hole into your face and with a grudging sigh, you took the flower.

Fuck, they were your favourite colour.

Double fuck, your manager was glaring a hole into the left side of your face.

"...We'll have that drink right out for you, sir." You say, pushing the flowers back towards him. His face falls, and he stares at you with puppy eyes, "Do you not like the flowers? I can find better ones, I swe-"

"Take the flowers back home, 'Toru. I love them, and they're pretty, but there's no space here to put them." You say, reaching over to pat his cheek.

He caught your hand with a pout, his hands threading together with yours, giving you a brilliant beam. "...Quit your job. You know that I've got more then enough money to support us."

You smile at him, giving in to the urge to press a gentle kiss to his left cheek, watching as his white eyelashes flutter and his blue eyes latch onto your every move.

"I'll think about it."

[azlumire]

It was hard at first, to adjust with his passing.

Forgotten memories lingered the hallways, bitter as the tears you sobbed and as gentle as his last words that brushed your ear with his last breath.

It always seemed as though he was right there beside you, whether its the soft sound of his voice as he laughs at some random tiktok that he would've reposted and sent to all of his friends, or a gentle whisper as you wake up sobbing from a nightmare.

Sometimes at night, you would lay on your bed- "Our bed", he would've corrected, smiling down at you as you lay wrapped in one of his hoodies, his cologne, his scent, him, slowly leaving.

When he asked a question, would he have tilted his voice up or down?

When he smiled, would his eyes crinkle, would he have a lopsided dimple?

You were forgetting.

But yet you cling to anything in a vain effort, to feel something, to replace what once was with what could've been.

Because all you had from him, was just memories.