#as the good lord intended

[rippedstitch-s]

[misterpseudonym]

when they call themselves the lords in black but they are the most eyebleeding neon pastel you will ever set your eyes on

[monocaelia]

in a good way.

- you fear the gods will take him away from you, that they finally want him to return home to the heavens above, and you pray that day is not today ; aka, you're scared he won't come home again and he assures you he'll always be with you. feat. gojo satoru & gn!reader genre : fluff and comfort w.c. : 1.5k note : rough week for gojo stans; smthn short and absolutely self-indulgent because i love my baby boy to bits and need him to know that i love him.

"i love you."

usually, those words would fill gojo with delight hearing them from your lips. pure affection isn't something that you often share out of the blue; usually, the way you show your love for him is through lighthearted bickering and your fingers pinching his cheeks when he tells you something dumb.

your relationship is filled with blithe teasing and playful touches. there's not a moment where you guys are home together and gojo's arms are not wrapped snuggly around your form despite the heat or your complaints that he smells. it's even worse when he's being clingy because he misses you, which then causes the onslaught of unwarranted kisses to be showered over your face and your cries of distress to be ignored as he pulls you down onto the bed to snuggle and make up for lost time.

his love language shared with you is laughter, and more intimate displays of affection are reserved for when there's something more serious at hand.

and it's not like you've never told him you love him before; you've told him plenty of times. though, oftentimes it's sprinkled in with sarcastic banter when he's being annoying to you.

but you always genuinely tell him that you love him when the time calls for it, like the time he was in fear of losing you to the hands of a curse or the times he felt he was truly alone to endure the responsibilities shoved to him by the higher ups.

your loving words always bring the strongest sorcerer a sense of comfort, grounding him before he spirals into his own thoughts or a moral crisis that almost sends his world spinning out of control.

your soft voice consoling him, gentle hands holding him, and your loving lips pressing as many kisses as he needs is enough to chase the darkness clouding his judgement away and bring back the light guiding him down the right path he has always been treading on.

so when you tell him you love him this time, the timbre of your voice small and vulnerable compared to the excitement or playful annoyance he's used to whenever he comes home, his heart skips a beat and he knows something is severely wrong.

the soft glow of the lamp beside your shared bed casts your body in a warmth that does nothing in comforting you. you look so alone sitting by the bedside like that, and gojo's chest lurches at the familiar sight he never wants to see in a loved one again.

no one should be dealing with their thoughts alone.

with quiet steps, almost as if not to startle you, the tall sorcerer makes his way towards your lone form.

you don't tilt your head to look at him as he approaches you.

large hands reach towards you, your jaw nestled gently in his palms as he tilts your face toward him. crystalline eyes examine your expression, the way your brows furrow and your eyes refuse to meet his gaze makes gojo's heart ache knowing something was haunting your mind.

"penny for your thoughts?" your lover asks. his thumb softly grazes your upper cheek and he can feel his chest swell with both love and worry when your eyes meet his. they're wet, and your eyes are so clearly swollen and he curses at the higher ups for sending him off to work when you so desperately needed someone by your side. "what brought this on, baby?"

you take a breath, shaky and unsure. your shoulders shrug as you struggle to find the words to speak.

"i just-" the words are caught on your throat, your voice cracking as you struggle not to tear up once more. but any attempts at trying to calm yourself are futile as your chest burns and the tears begin to fall. your eyes sting, your body instinctively pulling away as your hands try to wipe your face and hide such a sight from your lover.

he had just come home from a taxing day of curse exorcising; you shouldn't burden him about your worries.

but gojo's hands find yours again. he covers one hand with his while his other gently holds your jaw. your eyes flit up to meet his, familiar blue eyes that you know and love so much bringing a sense of comfort to you despite the thoughts gnawing at your mind. he's obviously worried for your sake, and you can't help but feel even worse knowing that he must be tired and now has to deal with you.

and yet, even as you know this, the words begin to trickle out of your lips no matter how hard you try to stop them.

"there will be a day where you won't come home, won't there?" you ask, voice so fragile as you stare into the eyes that hold the universe inside them. "i know what entails being a sorcerer, and i know every possibility could happen to you. i know that you're near invincible and that nothing can harm you even if you gave them a chance to.

but you're still human, satoru."

your lover does not answer you for a moment as he comprehends what has been plaguing your thoughts this entire time. his lips, pink and soft as ever, part before closing.

and then he smiles, his usual smile that lets you know that he's about to say something dumb.

"and here i thought you were planning on breaking up with me or something," gojo says, laughing softly as you look at him with complete disbelief. he's joking right now? while you're baring your heart to him?

you want to hit him, truly you do, but you don't have the heart to when your white haired lover leans down. his soft lips press against your skin, brushing away the crystal tears that have fallen from your eyes.

he has always loved them, you remember. every time you mentioned how annoying it was that he was so beautiful with those azure eyes of his he would grab your face to shower kisses on until you raised your white flag and accepted that you were beautiful as well.

he loved your eyes, one filled with hope and humanity despite the cruelty shoved onto your shoulders by the higher ups. you both have bore the weight given to you at such a young age because of the way jujutsu society is, and yet your eyes still shine with the hope of reforming it for the sake of the future sorcerers and the empathy that comes with being human.

you're so similar to him, and yet so different that it makes gojo love you even more than he already does in that large heart of his.

the humanity in yours compared to the god-like burden in his.

he wishes so dearly that you do not ever have to witness another tragedy fall upon you and that the light that shines in your eyes transcends mortality and guides the future of jujutsu sorcerers through the night sky as you have done with him.

"baby, do you remember what i'm known as?" gojo asks, his voice gentle as he pulls his face away to meet your gaze once more. he's smiling still, but this time it's less playful and more tender and warm.

"the strongest," you respond.

"that's right, and that means i will always win, even against someone like the king of curses."

gojo presses a few more kisses on your cheeks and your forehead before he leans down fully. his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, one that has your heart melting and the doubts and fear weighing your thoughts dissipating into thin air. he kisses you like you hold his heart in the palm of your hand and any wrong movements would break you and his heart alongside it.

he pulls away from the kiss, soft lips pressing once more on the tip of your nose before his smile comes into your view.

"and that means no curse will ever take me away from you, promise."

and the sting of tears burning your eyes comes once more as he says those words to you. you know it would be difficult to hold that promise because of your jobs as sorcerers, but you can't help but hold onto that shred of hope that he will stay with you until you're both married and old.

you're crying again, in a good way, a wave of brief relief washing over your entire form. your lover softly calls your name as his lips find yours again in hopes of erasing any more final doubts from your head as the two of you share the warmth and safety that comes with being in each others' arms.

if there was a higher being in control of your lives and the paths you walk on, you pray that they keep gojo on the path that keeps him beside you for as long as you both live.

[itsafternoonpast5]

very crazy episode. too bad it was based off of lord of the flies

[sysig]

Shapes never felt so good (Patreon)

[tinkerbitch69]

Huh, so thanks to verilybitchie’s most recent video essay on LOTR, (go watch!) I discovered that Tolkien described writing as a process similar to cooking. In his analogy, the writer mixes together idea’s, inspiration and other ingredients to create a new ‘meal’ (I.e story)

Which I find really interesting because Tolkien is without a doubt my biggest inspiration as a writer and despite never hearing this quote before, this is always how I’ve described my own writing process. Which just goes to show how much this guy has inspired me with his ‘recipes.’ What else is there to say other than;

*chef’s kiss* 😘

Link : https://youtu.be/FBHe5I98nwg?si=aIDzH09QZx8zXGNt

[imswansong]

((Sorry sudden rant/analysis about Evilive episode 8, if you haven’t watched yet pls ignore))

//////

Episode 8 just showed how fucked up Doyoung’s sense of friendship/partnership/love is. Like at this point he obviously wants to work with Dongsoo as partners for a long time — he wouldn’t be spending so much time and money and effort on him if he wasn’t interested — but at the same time, he doesn’t want to be equals with Dongsoo. He wants him to remain submissive to him because he’s done with being the second in command for someone else.

But ironically, Doyoung sees so much potential and a twisted feeling of closeness in Dongsoo that he wants Dongsoo to be just like him. Now normal people would be happy with just working together, but no, Doyoung’s a creep and therefore he NEEDS this attorney to be as cruel and violent as him, because idk he’s weird like that lmao

And again, he’s sick of working FOR other people. So when Dongsoo keeps asking Doyoung to move the body, kill Moon Sangguk (or use a random guy to do it for them), do this do that; it pisses him off because he thinks 1) Dongsoo is trying to win against him, 2) Dongsoo is acting like those old farts who use their power to have other people do their dirty work, and 3) He’s still trying and/or pretending to be guiltless.

That’s why Doyoung got excited when Dongsoo suggested that they kill Moon, because he was hoping Dongsoo would be willing to kill the man himself and get blood on his hands. So when Dongsoo was like “let’s just pay someone else to do it!” Doyoung got ticked off and threw him in a box with Moon.

(Oh and he totally knew Dongsoo would be the one to survive that, that was the whole point of him setting all that up)

What I’m trying to say is Doyoung’s desire to make Dongsoo just like him actually contradicts his desire to keep Dongsoo beneath him, because now that Dongsoo’s the same as him in terms of viciousness, what’s stopping him from going against Doyoung?

[s3v3r3dh3ad]

It's over for me.😭

[theeminentlyimpractical]

I don’t know how to explain it but I know the following to be true. Crowley is a slut. Aziraphale is a whore. I will not be accepting feedback.

[zombie-bait]

Had one of those moments where you get really obsessed with a piece of media AND an artist/album simultaneously even though they're completely unrelated so now AJR's new album and Loki season 2 are just inexorably linked in my silly little brain and I'm not sure what to do about that

[wrongcreature]

TVotL episode 380

[to-the-moon-and-2-saturn]

NO MORE DEPRESSIVE GRACIE ABRAMS AND BOYGENIUS WINTER ITS TIME FOR HOT CUNTY CHAPPELL ROAN AND MUNA SUMMER!! SPREAD THE WORD!!

[hihimissamericanbi]

Hi tell me more about leather daddy Alphard Black and boy toy Fleamont Potter 👀

Eep Imp in my ask box 🫣

Okay so this started because I imply that Uncle Alphard was an OG leather daddy type back in the day my r/s big bang fic The Homecoming of Sirius Black

@emeryhall read it, and as a New Yorker completely agreed with the characterization of Alphard as queer leather daddy on the scene in the West Village in the 80s. And isn't that a great headcanon for Sirius? That he gets his long hair and rebellious streak and leather jacket and motorcycle from his queer elder?

And, as Emery is Queen of Crack Smut, ofc she jumped right to "okay how do we write leather daddy Alphard who do we ship him with??" and I was like obvi Fleamont Potter like tie that man up.

And because I love poly smut we go with the angle that Euphemia "loans him out" to Alphard for some "enrichment activity" if you will. Like father like son and those Potter boys need A LOT of stimulation.

So. Thoughts?

[anto-pops]

i saw we’ve been talking about hand kink & seb yes hi hello. consider mc with an oral fixation and seb’s finger in their mouth helping them focus while studying etcetera but also having the case of an incalculable switch when they start sucking on his fingers n become a drooling sensitive mess capable of nearly coming undone with his fingers fucking into their mouth <3 maybe this was too self indulgent ‘m sorry!! love ur writing infinitely btw!!

IT'S NOT SELF-INDULGENT, IT'S US-INDULGENT, it's like you crawled into my head and pitched a damn tent, this is everything to me

The hand kink smut is gonna be. Filthy. Filthy and long and probably overly descriptive. Not much else to say except that

[penncilkid]

WIP Wednesday Time

(Pretend like it's still Wednesday, okay /lh) Thank you @frenchiefitzhere and the lovely people who voted in my poll yesterday, "Honey" won so here's my WIP of his design

His name is Tyrese (he/they), nicknamed Reese or "Reese's Pieces" by Guy. He's Black, autistic, and has resting bitch face because it's a vibe /pos

[nubs-mbee]

Ringing in the new year in style (sick and home alone) (covered in snot) (no pants)