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earthtooz · 1 year

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hurt/comfort blurb based off an ask @missmeinyourbones received :3

gojo x gn!sorcerer!reader, he's ridiculous, lovesick and dramatic in the one but that's how we like him here so. enjoy!!

“where is our couch?”

gojo looks up at you from his phone, grinning at you gently with the small smile that he always wears; one you’ve come to adore over the years. this time, however, it does nothing but irritate you because there is a large, vacant space in the living room that has ‘gojo satoru’ written all over it.

“what do you mean?” he asks but the lilt in his tone tells you everything you need to know.

that one, gojo has everything to do with your missing couch. two, you have fallen for his bait, successfully tricked into talking to him because three hours ago, you refused to acknowledge his existence after a heated argument that ended with you promising to sleep on the couch. yet after one harmless trip to the supermarket, you come back to discover that your bed for the night was missing.

and you know him well enough to know that his giddiness stems from the fact that you’re finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for the past few hours.

“where. is. our. couch?” you reaffirm, emphasising each word so they can get through his thick skull.

“is it not in the living room?”

he sounds almost delighted at this peculiar interaction, seeming proud of himself as his eyes shine with mirth. they bravely look into your frustrated and irritated ones.

“i am in no mood to bicker, gojo,” you begin, “either you tell me where our couch has gone or i kick you out.”

the sorcerer pouts from where he sits on the bed, curling into a ball as he stares up at you. the sight would’ve been more comical if you weren’t so mad. “that’s not very nice.”

“you don’t deserve nice,” you mutter, turning on your heels to walk away before gojo can melt you with those honeyed words of his. from the bedroom, you hear fumbling and rustling, followed by footsteps.

instead of paying gojo any mind, you go to the kitchen counter where you left the many bags of groceries you bought.

he rests his elbows on the kitchen island, subliminally begging for an ounce of your attention whilst you sort through the bags. “would you like some help?”

you give him a brief side-eye before resuming. his pout worsens.

“if i tell you what happened to our couch, will you promise to sleep on the bed tonight?” pleads the white-haired, “with me?”

you sigh, “yes.”

“i warped it somewhere.”

“what?” you almost drop the carton of eggs in your hold. “what do you mean ‘somewhere’?”

“somewhere in jujutsu tech, i’m not really sure.” he cringes at the glare you shoot him. “i was gonna get it back if you agreed!”

that was your last straw. running a hand down your face, you don’t see the way that your lover stares at you with hope from the corner of your eye.

“for goodness’ sake, why did you warp our couch?” you quiz.

“because you were going to sleep there,” he murmurs, “and i didn’t know how else to change your mind.”

“you’re twenty-three, gojo. you should know a thing or two about how to reconcile properly by now.”

his pout worsens at the use of his family name. “i am a man in love, y/n, do you know what they say about men in love?”

before you can even think of a snarky remark, realisation hits you like an anvil. whenever gojo uses his teleportation technique it always… leaves… something behind.

rushing over to the carpet that used to be under the couch, you almost have a heart attack when you lift it up and see the scorched marks that occur as a byproduct. the white-haired leans against the kitchen island innocently, whistling.

“and what are you planning on doing about this?” you shriek. you try to remain calm, really, but it’s hard to do so because gojo has an affinity for driving you to the brink of insanity.

“i will get someone to fix it, i promise!”

“and will they not be suspicious that there are marks in our floor?”

“a little bribery never hurt nobody, and i have a lot of money to bribe someone successfully. plus, i have connections in the jujutsu world!”

you drop the carpet, giving up. “i’m calling shoko to crash at hers for the night-”

“-then i’ll warp her house.”

“can you even do that? a couch is pretty impressive already.”

“so you think i’m impressive?”

“gojo.”

“i don’t know if i can teleport a house but i’m always willing to try.”

you hate him, you decide. “even if you could warp a house, you shouldn’t, because shoko will kick your ass.”

“but you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

you say nothing, merely glancing at your boyfriend before reaching for your phone in your pockets. however, before you could even unlock the device, gojo is beside you, crouched down to your level. he maintains a respectable distance, one that does not invade your personal space whilst fulfilling his need to be close to you.

“are you actually leaving?” he whispers brokenly, completely changing the atmosphere as his eyes begin to shine with tears that threaten to spill.

your words are lodged in your throat at the pitiful sight. whilst some part of your brain curses you for giving in so easily, the other part that loves gojo (who are you kidding, all of you loves him) begins to feel a little bad.

he continues, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers, “please don’t leave. i’m sorry for what i said when we were arguing. i love you,” he pauses for a second before adding as an afterthought: “a lot.”

gojo’s apology, although a little awkward and rushed, is nothing short of endearing, successfully quelling the waves of frustration and anger you’ve been feeling for the past few hours. although the hurt has not completely faded, it’s a little less suffocating to be around him now.

his life is far from normal, you understand that, and you realised that it would be something you had to deal with when you started dating him in your last year at jujutsu tech. but you fell for gojo because of his sporadicity. life may have not been the same ever since, but in a world where all you are gifted is targets on your back in exchange for keeping lives safe, his love is a refreshing oasis for you to return to when all is said and done.

even though he expresses it through unconventional ways, such as teleporting your couch because he was heartbroken at the prospect of being away from you, you think it’s a fair trade.

as a way of accepting his apology, you open your arms for him and the white-haired doesn’t even let a second pass by before he’s crashing into you.

it’s comforting, the way he holds onto you like you’ll slip from his grasp otherwise. “i’ll go get our couch back soon,” he mutters into you, squeezing your waist a little tighter.

“we’re having a moment, gojo, please don’t mention the couch or i’ll be angry again.”

“sorry,” the white-haired raises his head to look at you, “can i at least get nickname privileges back?”

“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, “no.”

#leah pls don't perceive me this is saur embarrassing #if u read this i will simply #idk what i will do but i will do something #it feels like the heavens is deciding my fate idk this is a lot of pressure HELP #i'm not totally happy with this one #but i was determined to get this out lol so #mediocre writing as always bc what else do i give you all <33 #i should get rid of this habit #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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barbiediamondcastleofficial · 6 months

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Actually I lied I don’t like sex put your clothes back on today we’re going to talk about CHARACTER ARCHETYPES, TROPE SUBVERSION, and MARTIN K. BLACKWOOD

#tw incredibly dead meme format #tma #martin blackwood #god I just fucking love him #Like ah yes classic kind likeable guy character except he’s also manipulative and bitchy #and has to do absolute mental contortion to justify his own strict but fucked up moral code #AND he writes the world’s most mediocre poetry. And I love him so much #He thinks he’s not important enough to DIE #the magnus archives

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mokadevs · 5 months

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you've given me nothing to miss

#arknights #lone trail #saria arknights #arknights saria #kristen arknights #arknights kristen #kristen wright #listened to this song on loop for the entirety of drawing these #im in the middle of writing a fic about them ill get there just you guys wait #shakes my finger through tears #theyre everything to me. please talk to me about them #and by to me i mean at me because im unable to form coherent thoughts through anything but mediocre art #kiki draws

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erwinsvow · 16 days

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no but like imagine kook!reader coming to save jj at the midsummer like a ‘princess in shining amour’ and jj’s not only relishing in it, topper and kelce are peeved but rafe is seething seeing his girl friend with her arm wrapped around jj’s bicep, gently pulling him away from his little ambush of the blond pogue.

"why is it always like this? why can't you guys behave for once? are you not embarrassed? i'm ashamed on your behalf," you lecture, standing in between jj and your three idiotic best friends.

it seemed nothing ever changed with them, no matter how much they insisted they would stop giving pogues a hard time and just act normal for once.

you were angry, rightfully so, since there was nothing you hated more than when rafe took out his anger on jj, just because the two of you were friends, just because you didn't despise jj the way he did.

but why would you? your other girl friends always bought weed from him, and he was always sweet and charming and funny. he hadn't done anything to incite rafe's anger besides talk to you, and you were sick of dealing with it. after all, if rafe didn't have the nerve to just ask you out, you weren't gonna deal with his possessive crap.

you progress into cursing them out, smacking top's arm when he tries to interrupt, keep an arm on jj's chest to push him away when rafe gets him riled up again.

"please, just stop, rafe, you're being such a dick-"

"yeah rafe, c'mon, listen to your girl here. thanks for the save, princess, i mean your little friends here are out for my hide-" jj starts, holding the hand on his chest and taking it into his own, and rafe lunges towards him again.

"shut up, fuckin' pogue, don't touch her-"

"seriously, get it together. god." you finish finally, turning back to apologize to jj again. he's bleeding from his lip, a huge bruise on his face. you think your friends did this, turning back to shoot them one last dirty look. "do you need ice, jj? i can go get some."

"sure thing. thanks princess." you wrap your hand around jj, leading him away back towards the bar. jj turns back around to say something else but you lean in close, whispering something in his ear that makes the blond smile. he wraps his arm around your shoulder, hand on your exposed skin, bringing you into a hug while walking out.

"he's got some fucking nerve," topper starts, fixing his tie and staring back at rafe for his reaction.

"what the hell was that? now she's friends with maybank?" kelce asks, but rafe ignores them both, talking mostly to himself.

"friends? with maybank? over my dead fuckin' body. yeah, i'll fuckin' see about that."

#this prompt is so so so lovely but i fear this was a bit mediocre #i promise to include this in the full length fic if i ever write it babe<3 #thank you so much for requesting angel #rafe cameron #kook trio reader

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oliver-queen-apologist · 2 months

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in my heart of hearts i truly believe damian is destined to be an emo teenager. i’ve believed it since his early days as robin when he wore a hood and those sick ass high top lace up boots. b&r vol 3 just confirmed it for me with the wired earbuds and the chain on his belt. i wanna see that boy paint his nails and learn how to apply eyeliner. also what’s his wattpad username.

#damian wayne #when he’s not being drawn as bruce’s mini me with those turtlenecks #he actually has a really interesting style! i wish it was explored more #too bad writers don’t give him that much of a civilian life #i guess that’s what b&r vol 3 is trying to do williamson’s writing is just mediocre at best

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the-awful-falafel · 4 months

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I really hope Rick and Morty as a series will finally move on from portraying Rick's love for Morty / his family as this special, redemptive trait that Morty just needs to open his eyes to. Or portraying it as something Rick just needs to be emotionally honest about, finally admit in a grand gesture, and then everything will be healthy and resolved.

Two things can be equally true: Rick can sincerely care about Morty, deeply enough to be tender with him, showing gestures of affection, being protective of him, being truly proud of him... and can also constantly let Morty down, put him in mortal danger, make Morty feel responsible for his emotional health, treat him awfully and in manipulative controlling ways, and not be there for him when it matters most. His love is real, but is also a fickle thing that Morty cannot always rely on. That uneven dolling out of affection is exactly what entrenches the abuse and damages Morty further. Even now that Rick is slowly improving as a person, his simultaneous love and unreliability persists in milder ways, and the long pattern of abuse leaves deep scars on his grandson.

In my opinion, it makes perfect sense for Morty to see Rick's care for him as this unreliable, dangerous, and potentially non-existent thing, but also to paradoxically crave it nonetheless. Every time he lets his guard down and starts to trust Rick too much, he's been kicked in the nuts for it to varying extents-- even recently. I don't think he actually believes Rick cares nothing for him, but he's been trapped in this cycle of good and bad for so long that his self-worth is eroded and wholly defined by his grandpa's conditional affection, and he's scared of and dependent on it simultaneously. Even if Rick became truly healthy and openly caring from now on, that won't change how he's screwed up Morty with his behavior.

The series isn't going to make any meaningful progress if the writers keeps cycling around the superficial "does Rick care? does Morty know how deeply Rick cares?" question that they've asked since Season 1, instead of progressing to more meaningful, realistic questions about what Rick's love even means after all the past seasons of codependent abuse, and how much it should be worth to Morty in the end. (Ideally, much, much less than it's worth now.)

Yes, Rick cares. Yes, he loves his family deeply. But as with many forms of abuse, that's part of the problem.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #character analysis #slightly rnm critical ig because my cynicism towards the recent seasons' writing lol #they could take this a good direction though if they decided to be consistent and honest about the main duo's dynamic #as well as Rick's direct culpability in perpetuating it that has yet to be seriously confronted #bit of a longshot though #at least the season 7 finale fed me crumbs of it being a possibility #this series likes teasing heavier topics but being mediocre at the follow-up. so we'll see

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nat-20s · 4 months

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Martin Blackwood writing extremely mediocre poetry for himself and himself alone in his late 20s is like soooo endearingly cringey but then YOU try writing extremely mediocre poetry for yourself and yourself alone in your late 20s and it's like OH. OH GIRL I GET IT!

#martin blackwood #tma #literally like. its so fun and soothing #everyone should have something that they enjoy and are aggressively mediocre at #also you'll never guess who's got some insomnia and is writing poetry in my notes app #i definitely WONT be sooo cringefail and post it in the morning #and it definitely WON'T be thinly veiled as being about doctor who

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mindofserenity · 1 month

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شكر

Acquire the skill of amazement.

Not only through sunsets and mountains but in the normality of life. Find yourself to be thankful in every way of life. You will learn to be grateful for all your blessings that we so often undermine and gain the joy of it.

Find beauty in the remarkable and in nothingness.

— mindofserenity

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pitconfirm · 1 month

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did u say hurt and comfort

okay... posting this is a bit out of my comfort zone but i will be nice 😇 but beware it was written in one very sad sitting after the race so may be a little... rough. and venty. just 1500 words of strollonso rambling:

Lance often isn’t a creature of nuance, and certainly never of subtlety. There are two distinct sides to him, sharply and overtly separated. He can be loud, cheeky, confident, shameless. That’s the Lance most people know, and most people unduly hate; misinterpreting his behaviour as bratty and petulant. But there’s a flip side—the quiet, self-conscious, shy Lance. That’s the Lance in Fernando’s bed tonight. Well, their bed. Lance’s hotel room is always more of a cover-up than a living space these days.

They’ve been here before, and Fernando has seen it all—crashes, tears, anger, and apologies. Mostly apologies. Despite whatever bullshit narrative the media might prefer, Lance is sorely self-critical, often to the point of detriment. To the point where he can’t even celebrate his highs because he’s too caught up thinking what more he could’ve done. Every corner, every gear shift, every blink. So, the shyness doesn’t come as much of a surprise tonight.

Things like these happen. Mistakes and lapses of concentration are a cruel part of racing. But things like these are never just things like these for Lance. His last name cracks open an entirely different can of hatred. The type of bias and cruelty that makes Fernando’s skin burn, hot and angry. He calms himself, keeping his composure for Lance’s sake.

“Hey, Lancey…” he whispers, kind and gentle; climbing onto the bed after getting back from the debrief that Lance chose not to attend. Lance is sat on top of the sheets and still in his race gear, as though the effort of changing would be too much in his sorrowful state. He gives Fernando nothing but a shy smile, averting his gaze and shuffling uncomfortably under the attention.

“Where are you?” Fernando asks, waving a hand in front of his distant eyes; big, brown, and damp. It snaps Lance back into focus, making eye contact in that way of his—where he tilts his head down and looks up, as if wanting to make himself smaller. He has a terrible habit of making himself out to be less than he truly is.

“Right here, silly,” he giggles, but it’s not right. It’s a sad and blatantly performative sound—a failed attempt to dissipate Fernando’s concern. To anyone with the gift naivety, it might be convincing, but Fernando knows Lance better than that. He knows the good and the bad; the pride and the guilt. The little things that nobody else sees (except maybe Esteban, but Fernando tries not to think about that bastard too often).

He takes Lance’s hands in his palms, not missing the slight tremble. “Talk to me,” he says, trying to coax Lance out of his shell of indifference. It stings, but it’s necessary; like pressing down on a pinprick to stop it from bruising. Burying the pain will only hurt him more in the long run.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Lance shrugs, sweetly stubborn. He turns away and pulls his hands from Fernando’s grasp, and Fernando tries his best not to take it personally. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have scored points, anyway.”

“Ay!” Fernando gasps suddenly, face serious. He grabs the hands back more firmly this time—he can be stubborn, too. “You don’t talk like that. Not to me.”

“Like what?” Lance giggles again, nervously, breathily; his eyes caught on their hands where they’re trapped together on Fernando’s thigh. “I’m just being realistic. It’s what everybody says.”

Fernando feels the bitter rage bubble again. “What who says?” he asks intensely while squeezing Lance’s hands tighter. Compliantly, Lance lets it happen; hands loose but unmoving in Fernando’s palms.

“Y’know…” he drawls, disappointedly casting his gaze to the phone discarded beside him on the bed. “Everybody.”

Fernando sighs internally; trying not to roll his eyes lest Lance interprets it the wrong way. He lets go of his hands to grab the item, quickly typing in Lance’s password. On the screen is the last thing Lance was looking at—searching his fucking name on Twitter. Idiot. It’s all cruel, and brutal; full of every nasty word that can spit on Lance’s identity.

“You need to delete this silly app. Full of people who don’t know what they’re saying…” he mutters, shaking his head and taking the initiative to delete it himself. He dreads the thought of all of his own ‘fans’ tearing Lance apart, as if he and Lance aren’t one and the same nowadays. An inseparable entity.

“It’s the same on every fucking app,” Lance says. He sounds annoyed, but at least that’s better than hiding himself away. “You can look on Instagram, or TikTok, or—”

Fernando gently grabs Lance’s jaw, tilting his face to force eye contact. “Then just look at me, yes? Nothing else. Just me, and you.”

He stares Lance down, watching him try to battle away the pain. Lance always does these tiny movements with his face that give everything away; nervous flicks of his eyes and sad twitches of his brows. There’s another attempt at a smile, but after a few moments, his facade cracks and quickly morphs into a frown. A sad, broken look; brows furrowing more and more until he chokes on a sob. The floodgates open, and like the flick of a switch, the sob turns into wet, hurried cries.

“Shhh,” Fernando soothes, quickly wrapping both arms around Lance and pulling him into his chest—making him feel small like he needs to sometimes. “It’s okay…” he whispers, stroking a hand up and down Lance’s sweat-sticky back, heaving with uneven cries. “You are okay.”

Lance shakes his head against Fernando’s neck, tears damp on his skin.

“No? Not okay?”

At that, he nods; a wordless but sincere admission.

“Okay. That’s okay.”

Fernando sits through it with him, holding him tight until the rapid, shameful sobs turn into slow chokes, then into quiet sniffles. The shake in his body slows to a slight tremble, like the purr of a cat, but certainly not so pleasant. More like a shivering kitten left out in the cold.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, yes?” he whispers against Lance’s ear, tugging at his race gear. Lance nods with another wet sniffle, pulling away from Fernando’s neck to look him in the eye. Fernando could cry himself at the sight of him—all wet eyes and red cheeks, broken by the unfairness of a sport that doesn’t love him like he deserves. It doesn’t love him like Fernando does.

He tugs Lance around like an oversized dog that thinks it’s still a puppy, defying his stature to half-carry him to the bathroom. Lance is still distant, too tired to put up any fuss as Fernando sits him on the edge of the tub and undresses him piece by piece; whispering praise and gently kissing his skin as he goes until Lance is bare and shivering.

“Stand for me, baby,” he requests. It takes Lance a moment to register what he’s heard, but once he gets it, he stands up immediately on two wobbly legs; always so eager to please, even in moments like these. It hurts, knowing how desperately Lance wants to be good, and how a race like this makes him feel like he isn’t. But he’ll always be good—always Fernando’s good boy. So good that it doesn’t make sense why he’d want a cruel and tainted man like Fernando in the first place.

They shower, warm and steamy, with most of Lance’s weight resting on Fernando. But Fernando holds him, despite his own body being lethargic from the race. He massages Lance’s shoulders, and his flat chest where the impact of the seatbelts must ache from the crash. It’s part of the sport—it’s what they sign up for—but now, being with Lance, Fernando understands why his parents get so concerned every time he gets in the car. Every bump and collision of Lance’s makes Fernando consider turning to religion just to pray for him to get out in one piece.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispers later; sitting on the bed as Fernando towel dries his hair. It’s longer now than it has been since they got together, curling up at his nape and getting caught in his eyes. Fernando brushes it away for him with a gentle, affirmative pat on the cheek.

“What you are sorry for?” he asks, stroking Lance’s jaw; a thumb rubbing back and forth on his pouty bottom lip.

“I shouldn’t be so…” he looks away, embarrassed. “Weak. Didn’t wanna bother you.”

Weak is the last word Fernando thinks of when he looks at Lance. He sees commitment—Lance’s hunger to succeed and pain when he loses. But never weakness. No, Lance might be the strongest man Fernando knows.

“Lance… the only thing that bothers me is when you lie to me. When you pretend you are okay,” he says with a degree of honesty he never knew he was capable of. It feels like Lance was put on earth to bring these things out of him—the good he didn’t know was there, nestled under his sheath of utter badness. “I would do this every day if I needed to.”

“Yeah?” Lance asks—quiet, melodic, and tender. A smile perks back on his face, small and hardly there, but there nonetheless. A real smile this time.

“Yeah. Anything you need.”

The smile grows, and Fernando knows they’ll be alright. Lance will come back stronger like he always does. Like the perfect boy he is.

#i don't usually write this stuff so it might not be the best #but it’s better being mediocre here than rotting in my drafts 🙏#strollonso #my fic #willing myself not to delete this immediately

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earthtooz · 1 year

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clingy!gojo x gn!reader, fluff, use of pet names, a little bullying from reader but that's okay- it's gojo /j, he's annoying and probs ooc.

gojo satoru is as codependent as he is powerful and you came to realise that the hard way during the timeline of your relationship. what began as a peaceful saturday morning lying together in bed has now become a total wrestling match, one that you were drastically losing in in comparison to gojo's unmatched strength.

"get off me, 'toru, i need to go buy groceries before the shops begin getting busy!" you huff, your hand on his shoulder doing nothing to make him budge no matter how hard you tried.

he whines, loud and pathetic in your ear. "don't leave! i'll be all cold and miserable!"

"oh boohoo. move," as an afterthought, you add: "please?"

he shakes his head, white strands tickling your chin as the sorcerer shoves himself further into your warmth, holding you with a kind of fervour that spiders have to their webs.

you don't know how you can get out of this one.

"please, love?" gojo loves it when you bring out pet names for him; something you monopolise in hopes of lowering his defence. "i'll be quick too. just a trip to the grocery store and then i'll be back, is that such a demanding request?"

"yes. i don't know what could happen to you out there, what if a special grade curse appears? i'd never forgive myself."

"then come with me."

"too cold for that. i'm staying here."

you roll your eyes. chivalry is dead. "glad to know that you've got my back. whatever. i can handle myself, 'toru, you know that."

"okay, but i can't- that's why you need to stay!"

"you have more cursed energy in one finger than i do my whole body."

he hmphs.

"you can destroy buildings for miles."

he hmphs again.

"your birth literally shook the jujutsu world."

the white-haired hmphs one final time, his cutesy act only doing so much when the grip he has around you contradicts it. gojo's strength is not something to be messed with but you just hope that he stops squeezing you soon because it was getting harder and harder to breathe. paired with his weight on top of yours, you don't think you two can get any humanly closer.

"'satoru," you groan, utterly exasperated at his stubbornness. "you're acting very sweet and all but i'm serious. we don't have enough food. we ran out of milk for your daily mocha-"

the sorcerer places delicate kisses along your collarbone, cutting you off as you shiver from the sensation, especially when his lips brushes over a sensitive part of your skin.

"-don't care."

"gojo," you murmur in a warning tone, any hint of affection draining out of your voice.

bad idea. you knew what using his family name would result in and in your sleepy, yet frustrated haze, you hadn't considered the consequences. not until gojo's clinginess intensifies, his head rising from your chest whilst one of his hands pause midway through the heart he was tracing on your skin. he's looking at you with eyes that glisten with love, worry and fear. you now feel guilt washing over you, unable to muster the words to apologise before he speaks up.

"please don't be mad, i mean well," your lover whispers, the sunlight that snuck through your blinds illuminating him beautifully, deliciously sculpting the planes of his back. "i love you so much, don't you know? i thought you loved me too."

you sigh, flopping your head back into your pillow.

gojo continues littering kisses here and there, a new sense of desperation lingering with his actions. "at select times," you quip.

"babe, that's mean!"

"just as mean as you trapping me here. i'm hungry, gojo, and i have things i need to do."

"stop calling me that," he whines, pushing himself up only to crawl up higher, his head now fitting into your neck from where it rested against your sternum earlier.

great. now you can feel even more of his weight as he flops atop you.

tapping his shoulder in surrender, the best you can mutter is a breathy 'you're heavy' before he expertly manoeuvres the two of you, all pressure disappearing immediately as you now lie on your side.

gojo looks down at you with so much love and adoration, that it sends you reeling, regretting looking at him. your resolve cracks even more with the gentle kiss he presses against your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling away.

he seems to be even happier in this position, arms wrapping tight around your torso in a bone-crushing embrace, keeping you right against his exposed chest.

right against his heart.

this is a battle you've lost, you decide, surrendering by wrapping your arm around the white-haired's torso.

gojo doesn't miss the action, no, he revels in it and you don't even have to see him to know that he's smirking. smugness dripping in his tone when he asks, "oh? finally gave in to my charms, babe?"

"you're so annoying," you grunt, unwrapping yourself and shuffling around in gojo's hold to face away from your boyfriend.

once again, you don't even need to see him to see the astonished look he gives you, eyebrows furrowed and jaw dropped in disbelief. imagining it provides you with a little feeling of satisfaction.

"unbelievable!" gawks the sorcerer. "i am merely trying to show you my love and you do-"

"-'toru," you declare, the affectionate nickname only you use immediately silencing him. "go to sleep. or i'll leave your ass for everything you've put me through this morning."

detecting the airiness in your tone, he knows your threat cannot be farther from a lie. but still, he complies but not without murmuring a small 'unfair' before tucking himself into you, completely overwhelming you with his limbs.

"i love you," you confess, the words hovering into air, dissipating before long but gojo hears it. he always does. he's engraved the way you say those three words in his mind.

it sounds sweeter every time though, causing butterflies to erupt in his chest as gojo kisses your cheek. "i love you more," parting with a little bite, you swat him away as he sinks back into his position, laughing in amusement.

you end up going to the supermarket together that afternoon.

#i love delivering mediocre writing #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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cilil · 2 months

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Alright hear me out for a second -

"It's ok to enjoy and find meaning in flawed media because art is subjective and human creation is never perfect" and "We need to arm ourselves with media literacy, criticize media and not fall prey to blind consumerism that big companies want to lure us into" are statements that can and should co-exist.

#it's possible to love something and not make excuses #and in case anyone's hoping this is an attack on any particular thing: nope. sorry to disappoint #it's an issue beyond fandom drama #please treat it as such #don't let them languish in mediocrity #don't let them feel entitled to their work being uncritically celebrated #cílil speaks #media #writing #fandom #just a thought

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angelsdean · 5 months

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I need people to understand how S&P (standards and practices) works in television and how much influence they have over what gets to stay IN an episode of a show and how the big time network execs are the ones holding the purse strings and making final decisions on a show's content, not the writers / showrunners / creatives involved.

So many creators have shared S&P notes over the years of the wild and nonsensical things networks wanted them to omit / change / forbid. Most famously on tumblr, I've seen it so many times, is the notes from Gravity Falls. But here's a post compiling a bunch of particularly bad ones from various networks too. Do you see the things they're asking to be changed / cut ?

Now imagine, anything you want to get into your show and actually air has to get through S&P and the network execs. A lot of creators have had to resort to underhanded methods. A lot of creators have had to relegate things to subtext and innuendo and scenes that are "open to interpretation" instead of explicit in meaning. Things have had to be coded and symbolized. And they're relying on their audience to be good readers, good at media literacy, to notice and get it. This stuff isn't the ramblings of conspiracy theorists, it's the true practices creatives have had to use to be able to tell diverse stories for ages. The Hays Code is pretty well known, it exists because of censorship. It was a way to symbolize certain things and get past censors.

Queercoding, in particular, has been used for ages in both visual media and literature do signal to queer audiences that yes, this character is one of us, but no, we can't be explicit about it because TPTB won't allow it. It's a wink-wink, nudge-nudge to those in the know. It's the deliberate use of certain queer imagery / clothing / mannerisms / phrases / references to other queer media / subtle glances and lingering touches. Things that offer plausible deniability and can be explained away or go unnoticed by straight audiences to get past those network censors. But that queer viewers WILL (hopefully) pick up on.

Because, unfortunately, still to this day, a lot of antiquated network execs don't think queer narratives are profitable. They don't think they'll appeal to general audiences, because that's what matters, whatever appeals to most of the audience demographic so they can keep watching and keep making the network more money. The networks don't care about telling good stories! Most of them are old white cishet business men, not creatives. They don't care about character arcs and what will make fans happy. They don't care about storytelling. What they care about is profit and they're basing their ideas of what's profitable on what they believe is the predominate target demographic, usually white cis heterosexual audiences.

So, imagine a show that started airing in the early 2000s. Imagine a show where the two main characters are based on two characters from a famous Beat Generation novel, where one of the characters is queer! based on a real like bisexual man! The creator is aware of this, most definitely. And sure, it's 2005, there's no way they were thinking of making that explicit about Dean in the text because it just wouldn't fly back then to have a main character be queer. But! it's made subtext. And there are nods to that queerness placed in the text. Things that are open to interpretation. Things that are drenched in metaphor (looking at you 1x06 Skin "I know I'm a freak" "maybe this thing was born human but was different...hated. Until he learned to become someone else.") Things that are blink-and-you-miss-it and left to plausible deniability (things like seemingly spending an hour in the men's bathroom, or always reacting a little vulnerable and awkward when you're clocked instead of laughing it off and making a homophobic joke abt it)

And then, years later there's a ship! It's popular and at first the writers aren't really seriously thinking about it but they'll throw the fans a bone here and there. Then, some writers do get on the destiel train and start actively writing scenes for them that are suggestive. And only a fraction of what they write actually makes it into the text. So many lines left on the cutting room floor: i love past you. i forgive you i love you. i lost cas and it damn near broke me. spread cas's ashes alone. of course i wanted you to stay. if cas were here. -- etc. Everything cut was not cut by the writers! Why would a writer write something to then sabotage their own story and cut it? No, these are things that didn't make it past the network. Somewhere a note was made maybe "too gay" or "don't feed the shippers" or simply "no destiel."

So, "no destiel." That's pretty clearly the message we got from the CW for years. "No destiel. Destiel will alienate our general audience. Two of our main characters being queer? And in a relationship? No way." So what can the pro-destiel creatives involved do, if the network is saying no? What can the writers do if most of their explicit destiel (or queer dean) lines / moments are getting cut? Relegate things to subtext. Make jokes that straight people can wave off but queer people can read into. Make costuming and set design choices that the hardcore fans who are already looking will notice while the general audience and the out-of-touch network execs won't blink and eye at (I'm looking at you Jerry and your lamps and disappearing second nightstands and your gay flamingo bar!)

And then, when the audience asks, "is destiel real? is this proof of destiel?" what can the creatives do but deny? Yes, it hurts, to be told "No no I don't know what you're talking about. There's no destiel in supernatural" a la "there is no war in Ba Sing Se" but! if the network said "no destiel!" and you and your creative team have been working to keep putting destiel in the subtext of the narrative in a way that will get past censors, you can't just go "Yes, actually, all that subtext and symbolism you're picking up, yea it's because destiel is actually in the narrative."

But, there's a BIG difference between actively putting queer themes and subtext into the narrative and then saying it's not there (but it is! and the audience sees it!) versus NOT putting any queer content into the text but SAYING it is there to entice queer fans to continue watching. The latter, is textbook queerbaiting. The former? Is not. The former is the tactics so many creatives have had to use for years, decades, centuries, to get past censorship and signal to those in the know that yea, characters like you are here, they exist in this story.

Were the spn writers perfect? No, absolutely not. And I don't think every instance of queer content was a secret signal. Some stuff, depending on the writer, might've been a period-typical gay joke. These writers are flawed. But it's no secret that there were pro-destiel writers in the writing room throughout the years, and that efforts were made to make it explicitly canon (the market research!)

So no, the writers weren't ever perfect or a homogeneous entity. But they definitely were fighting an uphill battle constantly for 15 yrs against S&P and network execs with antiquated ideas of what's profitable / appealing.

Spn even called out the networks before, on the show, using a silly example of complaints abt the lighting of the show and how dark the early seasons were. Brightening the later seasons wasn't a creative choice, but a network choice. And if the networks can complain abt and change something as trivial as the lighting of a show, they definitely are having a hand in influencing the content of the show, especially queer content.

Even in s15, (seasons fifteen!!!) Misha has said he worried Castiel's confession would not air. In 2020!!! And Jensen recorded that scene on his personal phone! Why? Sure, for the memories. But also, I do not doubt for a second that part of it was for insurance, should the scene mysteriously disappear completely. We've seen the finale script. We've seen the omitted omitted omitted scenes. We all saw how they hacked the confession scene to bits. The weird cuts and close-ups. That's not the writers doing. That's likely not even the editors (willingly). That's orders from on high. All of the fuckery we saw in s15 reeks of network interference. Writers are not trying to sabotage their own stories, believe me.

Anyways, TLDR: Networks have a lot more power than many think and they get final say in what makes it to air. And for years creative teams have had to find ways to get past network censorship if they want "banned" or "unapproved" "unprofitable" "unwanted" content to make it into the show. That means relying on techniques like symbolism, subtext, and queercoding, and then shutting up about it. Denying its there, saying it's all "open to interpretation" all while they continue to put that open to interpretation content into the show. And that's not queerbaiting, as frustrating as it might be for queer audiences to be told that what they're seeing isn't there, it's still not queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is a marketing technique to draw in queer fans by baiting them with the promise of queer content and then having no queer content in said media. But if you are picking up on queer themes / subtext / symbolism / coding that is in front of your face IN the text, that's not queerbaiting. It's there, covertly, for you, because someone higher up didn't want it to be there explicitly or at all.

#long post #LONG-ass post #but it needed to be said!#i'm sorry if you think every creative involved with spn was a braindead asshole but the thing is.#even the most mediocre of writers understands a thing or two abt symbolism and writers working in TV are plagued by S&P #countless writers have talked abt the S&P bullshit and having to tweak and edit down their work to get past censors #it's a reality of writing for television #and the people who understand all this and understand the context of making TV in the early 2000s (to present tbh!) aren't 'delusional'#i'm sorry but it's naive to think that queer stories and queer characters are free to be told even nowadays. it's still a constant battle #times have changed but unfortunately not as much as you'd think #the confession !!!!! the confession still struggled to air and what we got was so obviously hacked down to bits!!!!!!#how can anyone think getting destiel content into the show was ever easy?#how can anyone think the pro-destiel writers weren't constantly having to be careful and underhanded in their writing?#there's a reason queercoding and subtext exist and it's this!!! it's censorship from TPTB #anyways. people much older than me have been talking abt this for ages. younger fans who are used to more open queer rep need to understand #it hasn't always been that easy and even nowadays SO many networks are still not willing to take a risk on queer stories #so creators do what they can #vic.txt

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