Azul 🌹 Congratulations on the milestone! You deserve it (and many more) ok so for the event can I ask Geto + this song. You can make it angsty, with a hint of fluff 🥹 I would pick a diff character but you’re one of the best Geto writers on this website 😬
this is very long overdue but I just wanted you to know that the fic is still in my drafts, I was struggling with angst but I probably have better grasp of it now I hope!
Is it true that Utahime is pregnant with Gojo's? I've heard stupid theories that they got married secretly pre-sukuna fight because of what Gojo was wearing and Utahime tummy looks big. I thought Utahime hates him. I cringe with that ship
We have been mutuals for quite some time now and I love how welcome you always make me feel despite the fact that we do not talk much privately. I adore your writing but I adore you as a person even more. Your passion really shows in your work and you truly take care to let a character's personality and quirks shine. You are a wonderful person and I will be rooting for you - always!
oh my goodness I didn’t expect this at all! what a sweet message and what a sweet event OP <3 folding up this sweet letter right into a locket by my heart 🫶🏽
hi azul! you’re literally so amazing, i’ve been a huge follower of your blog for a long long time :)) I wanted to know if I could get a matchup with satoru? all the content for him the last few days has my heart overflowing, you write him so lovely, a song would be photograph by ed sheeran? sorry if this seems random I really love your blog and writing!!
hi! your words are so so sweet, i'm keeping them in a lil locket beside my heart. i hope you like this <3
through the viewfinder of the polaroid camera, you focused on the sight of your husband, still in his suit from the reception, laying on the plush king sized hotel bed. two bottles are beside him, cider and champagne. your lips curl up in a soft, honeyed smile as your index finger presses down.
click!
"eh? how's that? handsome, right?" satoru grins when the photo reveals itself. it's boyish, reminding you of the first day you met him. back when you swore you'd never want to see him again. he's chewing on the complimentary chocolate covered strawberries. "told ya i could be a model, babe."
satoru shifts then, leaning back on an elbow while he playfully attempts to seductivley pop another strawberry into his mouth. you laugh and snap another photo, not missing the opportunity to capture the moment. satoru doesn't expect this though, making a 'whuh' noise low in his throat, narrowly avoiding choking on the fruit.
as he's having a dramatic coughing fit beside you, the polaroid fades from stark white to a kaleidoscope of colors, revealing satoru at his most raw—endearingly lame. the sight melts your heart, and you can't help but fall in love a little more.
satoru snatches the camera as you're busy cooing over the photo, aiming the lens towards a profile of you to catch you off guard—hair a little out of place and in your hotel bathrobe, fresh from your post-wedding shower. the day came and went, flying by in a rush of people and commands and timings and music and perfection. there was still a ringing in your ears, your blood still buzzing and limbs heavy with exhaustion. you've done enough mingling and socializing for the rest of the year.
now, it's just you and satoru; the man you've promised your entire life to. the one who holds your heart in his hands. and—a photo of you!
"look at that, my wife," satoru murmurs, testing the word on his tongue. wife. his wife. he’s a married man. "i should keep this in my wallet, huh? a picture of my pretty wife."
you frown, fighting the heat that rises on your cheeks. pretty? you're all bare and exhausted from today. "w-wait, toru—no! take another one! let me go fix myself up and—"
"nuh uh," satoru grins teasingly, holding up the polaroid between two fingers. "i like this one. when i look at this five, ten, twenty years from now—!, i'll remember this exact moment." when you settle back on your knees, he continues. "the lighting right now, that airplane that just went by, the smell of your shampoo, how tired your eyes look,
and satoru looks exhausted as well—broad shoulders sagging just slightly, hair out of the slicked back style he wore today, morning star eyes fighting sleep. you stay quiet for a few moments, just taking in your husband and knowing that you really will remember this moment decades from now. lifetimes.
in every universe you’ll remember your husband on your wedding night.
note. for @laudthingcat for the 1k follower event, hope you like it! this got away from me honestly. based on meet me at our spot by the anxiety ft. willow. *the lone wolf is based on a 70s manga/movie series that i personally think toji would love and relate to.
wc. 2.2k
As a royal consort to the prince and heir of the throne, your purpose inside of this palace is to provide companionship, attention, and to dedicate every single day to Naoya. To refine your skills — playing musical instruments, dancing, reading, poetry, sex — in order to remain worthy of your position. To be worthy of him. You’d be executed instantly for merely entertaining any man who isn’t Naoya Zenin, let alone allowing one into your bedroom.
And yet there you were, in that very bedroom given to you by the palace, entangled in another man.
Your spacious bedroom often smelled of the jasmine oils you were fond of, but right now only his scent invaded your senses. He smelled like the sun. Bright and fresh, like clothes hanging to dry under the warm afternoon sun. All of the expensive perfumes and oils that the servants placed on you for Naoya couldn’t compare — you’d choose this every single time. This warrior who smells of sunshine.
There was no one else in your heart besides him. No one else has gently carved a place for themselves in your heart like he has. His large hands, roughened from lifelong labor, suddenly grab your waist and pull you into his lap, flush against his broad chest. He takes advantage of your surprised gasp and meets your lips with his. He’s clumsy in his excitement, but it only makes you laugh into the kiss. Choso kisses you like it’s the last kiss you’ll share, all desperation and heated passion. His hands roam down your backside and settle over the back of your thighs, giving them a rough squeeze. The dig of his nails over the soft flesh makes you moan and he swallows them hungrily.
Most of his life has been dedicated to others – whether it was raising his younger brothers or serving a royal family that he despises – Choso deserves to be selfish and greedy.
nanami kento with his hand around your throat applying just the right amount of pressure as his hips snap against yours while he gently reminds you that "fleshlights don't speak"
Ivan the terrible and his son, Ilya Repin// Letters to his father, Franz Kafka//Twin Peaks// The juniper tree and other tales from Grimm,The Grimm brothers// Saturn devouring his son, Francisco Goya// Succession// Sacrifice of Isaac, Caravaggio// Twin Peaks// The Godfather part 3// I killed my mother// Succession
: ̗̀➛ it is as they say; there is a thin line between hate and...
contents. vash/reader established relationship, suggestive sex, voyeurism kinda, nai hates his brothers gf
wc. 621
they're doing it again.
nai's blue eyes narrow into slits, fingers curling into fists over his textbook. he wrinkles the page and half rips it, but he barely notices. because they're fucking doing it.
again.
it's out of vash's character to be purposely loud while fucking his girlfriend when he knows that nai is home, but the doof truly thinks the two of you are being quiet right now. as if the headboard isn't currently rattling against the already thin walls in their shared apartment.
and you. his twin brother's girlfriend—sweet as cotton candy with a heart of gold; actually, nai imagines your heart to be like the conversation hearts given on valentine's day—he also imagines him ripping into your chest, only to find a pink conversation heart with angel engraved in red. and he'd eat your heart whole too, as sickenly sweet as it it'd be on his tongue.
"mmm! mm—vshh!" you moan, melodic voice muffled. not only through the walls, no, nai thinks you must be covering your mouth or biting your lip to keep quiet. "ahh—mmm!"
the rattling slows down for a second, bed squeaking with weight shifting, and soon enough it starts up again. the rhythm is a little different though, not as forceful or consistent as vash had been. the bed begins to squeak as if...
you're bouncing on vash's cock. fucking yourself. like a needy slut. his thighs spread unconsciously, cotton shorts rising up his muscular thighs.
nai has half a mind to slam his fist against the wall—remind you two that you're not alone in the apartment, that he also lives and pays rent here. and even though it's bordering one in the morning, he's trying to fucking study. but he wont; he doesn't feel like dealing with the aftermath right now—nai knows very well that vash will come and apologize like a kicked puppy—and he just won't give you the satisfaction.
there's no way in hell and below that nai wants you to believe you affect him in anyway. never someone like you—someone so weak and beneath his brother. beneath him.
you, with your doe eyes and pouty lips and fragile neck he wants to snap. he hates people like you; someone who smiles so stupidly and freely and opens up like a flower beneath the sun. naive, always greeting him and trying to make small talk when you must know that he can't stand you. optimistic, as you always see the good in others and in this cursed world. calling him kni. it makes nai physically ill with disgust. the only reason he hasn't voiced the venom that consumes him is that vash truly seems to care for you.
so nai glares at the wall instead, iceshard eyes hard with antipathy as he thinks about how much he truly despises you. weak little flower that you are; too stupid to realize that he can clearly hear your pathetic attempts at stifling your voice. those needy little whimpers and whines, broken as you split yourself open on cock. fragile neck bared as your head tips back in pleasure, hips continuously rolling over and over and over. cunt sticky and dripping over your thighs, making a mess all over yourself. but you don't care; no, your moans are only getting louder and louder as you give up on trying to stay quiet.
there's a pounding behind nai's eyes, probably from having been gritting his teeth too hard. he pays it no mind, suddenly feeling his chest flood with heat. his palms clam up, so he wipes them over his spread thighs and that's when nai realizes.
he's hard and leaking precum over his thin cotton shorts.