starlitheaven

[starlitheaven]

reminder that i am over at @angelcent <3

[starlitheaven]

⊹ ˚. R. SUKUNA┊ mutual pinning, childhood friends to ?, modern au, primal play.

"You want me to run?" You're obviously confused, a puzzled reaction forming on your face at the same time a never-quite smile tugs at your lips.

"Just like when we were kids — don't you think it'll be fun?"

Sukuna is smiling, you can see his pearly teeth even break through the dark jet night.

A nervous smile tempts to break out, you hold it back by biting your lower lip. Your heart is pounding, like a drum pushing against your ribs. The sound of the city festival (music, noise, parade) comes muffled by the din of adrenaline in your ears.

"And you want to chase me…" you reason. "What's in it for me if you don't catch me?"

Sukuna was going to catch you, he always did when you were little. You were out of shape because you hadn't run in years, hadn't played hide and seek in years and yet there's something behind his big eyes full of excitement and apparent thrill at the idea of chasing you that makes you smirk.

Sukuna folds his arms, you wonder what he's thinking when he doesn't answer right away.

"We can go back to the silly festival, ride the roller coaster and…"

You interrupt him. "What if you win?" you swallow, trembling slightly. There's eagerness in your voice that you can't disguise.

"I guess you'll have to find out— One…" Sukuna begins to count, suddenly squatting down to tighten the laces of his combat boots.

"Sukuna.. I'm not ready! Wait!" Exasperated, nervous and with a knotted stomach you try to reason with him to give you more time to think.

The forest is dark, bathed in colored lights and fireworks that break the harmony of the sky, your shoes are not made for running, and what happens when he finds you?

Why does the idea of him finding you excite you so much, why does the idea make your nipples ache and your pussy throb? This was your best friend, you weren't supposed to feel this way about him.

"Two…" his smile widens as do his shoulders when he stands up again, your fear making him look bigger than he really is, his chest is tight under his sweatshirt, his shoulders big and strong and his jaw clenched, holding back the tension the idea of hunting you makes him feel.

You swallow, dry your hands on the denim of your pants and take two steps away from him… the number "three" is on the tip of his pretty lips, pierced by that silver hoop. Before he opens his mouth or you can command your limbs, you find yourself running for the trees, fast, as fast as you physically can.

[starlitheaven]

a couple of years ago I posted about TSOA stsg and I just found out someone is writing a retelling of it. I’ve won!

[starlitheaven]

GOLDEN HOUR ┊ MIYA ATSUMU

tags: GN reader, childhood friends to lovers pipeline lol, just plain old fluff, heavy pining atsumu, reader is bleaching his hair, mildly suggestive

wc: 1K

“God, ‘Tsumu! Would you sit still?”

Dappled sunlight trickles onto the cream coloured work surface from between the tended plants sitting along the windowsill. The homeliness reminds him of Osamu’s own kitchen, treated as the true heart of the house. While quaint, your kitchen appears bigger than it is. Atsumu could stretch his legs from where he’s sitting and reach the fridge door, but he doesn’t feel crowded. The pressure from your fingers in his hair lulls him into a soft sense of contentment only to be disrupted by a sudden pinch. Nose wrinkling in his distaste, Atsumu suffers the irritating bleach odour permeating the space.

Being off-season always led to him coming home at some point or another—and ultimately, back to you.

Your first words upon seeing him after four months had been “Holy shit, look at your roots”.

Not exactly the emotional reunion he envisioned. Though the two of you soon devolved into your usual playful bickering as he yanked your hood over your head and pulled you into a long, tight hug.

Even now Atsumu barely flinches at your complaints, because you always do a terrible job keeping the laughter out of your voice. “Yer so rough,” he whines. “Be nicer to me. Thought I was ya best friend”.

“Such a baby” you tease, circling around him to reach for another hair clip, offering a full view of your attire. With the air so pleasantly warm you opted to wear some old shorts and a tank top. His eyes are instinctively drawn to your bare legs, detailing every dimple and curve down to the fluffy socks on your feet.

The dull end of your brush pokes at his skull. Atsumu’s gaze snaps to your face. “You back with me?” you say, a knowing smile crossing your lips. Heat prickled from his cheeks to his ears. “Since when is your scalp so sensitive?”

Atsumu clears his throat and you nudge a foot between his ankles to stand between his legs. He gives an indignant huff, “Since always!”

“Liar,” you curl a gloved finger around a front section of hair and tug. The sensation zips through him. He shudders and inhales sharply, enough that it gives you pause. Confined to a folding chair with an old, worn towel wrapped around his shoulders, he closes his eyes and hopes the Gods will be generous enough to have the ground swallow him up—

“Bet it was all that forty volume developer you used in highschool. I still can’t believe you”.

—It comes wrapped in your voice, supple and fond. Your movements resume without ceremony. Bristles paint bleach onto the dark roots of his hair, cold and thick. “How was I supposed’ta know not to use it?” Atsumu starts, taking your show of mercy in both hands. “The box said to mix in developer so a’ did”.

“And spent three years with a brass head ‘til I fixed it,” you muse, parsing out another section. You’re one slip away from sitting in his lap. The thought is sweltering. Your tank top rides up, flashing a swath of skin, and he can feel the blush crawling down his neck. “What would you do without me?”

Atsumu snorts as though he has not already agonised over the thought. Sleepless nights spent replaying the moment he realised that he was in love with you, under the shadow of a ginkgo tree on an early September morning while you fixed his school tie. He recalls the grain of rice still stuck to your cheek, and how your tongue peeked from between your lips in concentration—much like it is now.

You continue to apply the last of the bleach onto the roots at his crown. The clips suddenly feel tighter than they used to. He swallows against the dry in his throat. “Yeah, well. Doesn’t bear thinkin’ about,” he tells you, perhaps a little too solemnly.

There is some solace in not seeing your face as he says it. But the silence aches. You drop the brush into the mixing bowl and step back, leaving the clutch of his thighs. The air retains your heat for a few precious seconds. He hears the snap of your gloves as you pull them off. What he isn’t expecting is the palms that then cradle his cheeks.

You tilt his head, forcing him to look back, and when he does you’re frowning. Not in anger or concern. It is childishness. Atsumu gives a disgruntled noise when you push his cheeks together and force his mouth into an ugly pout.

“Oi—!”

“I’m not sure I like how you said that,” you interrupt, gaze flitting back and forth over his features intently. “I don’t know what’s happening in that brain of yours but I’m not going anywhere. We’re stuck with each other, okay?”

Atsumu blinks. His face is starting to hurt. The words hit him all at once and his heart leaps, pounding hard against his chest. Not for the first time, he has to remind himself that it’s easier to stay as you are—and the warning falls flat, drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. When did doing the easy thing get so hard?

“M’kay,” he wheezes. You release him and smile sheepishly as he massages his jaw, eyes narrowed in a petulant glare. His feigned annoyance is quickly betrayed by the smirk pulling at his lips. “Promise you’ll do ma roots even when they’re grey?”

“I don’t know. I think you’d make a pretty good silver fox,” there’s a soft sort of intent in your eyes. Something shifts, faintly, a change that is almost palpable. “But yes,” you hold out your pinky, and Atsumu hooks your fingers together.

“I promise”.

[starlitheaven]

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!

[starlitheaven]

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

what

[starlitheaven]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ @starlitheaven -> @angelcent

after two years on this account, I’ve decided it’s time for a new start 🩷 this blog will soon be archived.

reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3

[starlitheaven]

[starlitheaven]

[starlitheaven]

love some gay, morally dubious angels. gotta be my favorite gender

[starlitheaven]

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 🫶🏽

Secret Admirer for @starlitheaven:

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!

.

[starlitheaven]

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.

[starlitheaven]

doom yourself before the narrative does

[starlitheaven]

Still Life with Fruit and Carafe (1610), Pensionante del Saraceni / Graceless (2013), The National

[starlitheaven]

my beautiful dead wife

[starlitheaven]

Here to remind y’all who’s the original beefy one and only

If you like my art, help by reblogging ♡

You can find more drawings like this on my ko-fi for 1 coffee :)

[starlitheaven]

i love listening to MUSIC!!!!!! and imagining things happening