You know what I wanna see in Azriel’s book? A major emotional breakdown in which he openly cries his heart out. This man is stoic and angry and so closed off, even among friends. I’m begging him to show us even a sliver of vulnerability. Azriel, my guy, you can cry if you need to.
kirishima has always been looked at as strong and commanding—always larger than life and in control—so he has no idea what to do when he’s pined underneath you and at the mercy of the way you play his body like a well-tuned instrument.
he’s out of his depth and feels half out of his mind as the tip of your tongue drags over his hip bone. you’re touching him everywhere—fingers bruising against his waist, his thighs, his calves—he knows that you are taking from him in a way that no one has ever, and he’s giving all of it to you willingly.
“b-baby,” and it’s stuttered and breathless as he feels your teeth sink into the skin of his inner thigh—he fights the urge to harden his skin subconsciously over the pain because it’s so good and he wants to feel all of it—
“so good, Eij—“ you coo into his skin, dragging the plush of your lips over the trails of raised, reddened skin your nails leave behind as you move down his body, “you’re so good, letting me play with you like this.”
to his shock, his hips kick at your works, completely enthralled by the notion of being a play thing for you—of giving in, of going soft for the first time in his life—
he feels your fingers dig into the muscle of his calves and has to shut his eyes so you don’t see them roll back into his head. the foreignness of his own submission is wearing off now—replaced by the heavy, slippery feeling of needing you, of leaning into this space where he can just be worshipped by you and know that you will be there to hold him through it.
you climb back up his body and he savors the feeling of your weight on him—pressing him into the sheets, the tension in him bleeding out from where your skin meets his—and he lets out a pitiful whine when your nails scrape over the taut muscles of his belly. can’t help it when his hips buck into yours, but feels the need to apologize anyway, because what’s happening right now feels so far removed from his own base desire to be buried inside you. this feels too refined, like more luxury than he deserves, and he feels like a neanderthal.
“it’s okay Eij,” you reassure him, and something inside him goes molten at the way you forgive him, love him— “i know it feels good. you can take what you need to, my love.”
and he shakes his head at that, frantically, because he doesn’t want to take. he doesn’t want control of this—he wants you to hold his pride in your hands and turn it into something malleable and fluid. he can’t trust himself to speak—he presses his palms into the bed and tips his head back, baring his throat to you, just hoping, begging you to understand—
he feels you take one of his hands in yours, feels you bring it to your face and press your smile into the inside of his wrist, nipping at the sensitive skin, sucking it into your mouth gently and laving your tongue over it.
“i see,” you murmur, and it sends a shudder up his spine so violent he feels his toes curl. your eyes rake over his body as you drag your free hand up his chest. he has to remember how to breathe when your fingers circle around the base of his throat.
I have a headcanon and it's that Audrian cares about Yasha, but since his mentor was really cold to him, he doesn't know how to show that he cares about people, specifically how to show his apprentice that he actually cares, because he didn't have a healthy relationship with his mentor. So when Yasha eventually leaves because he feels like Audrian didn't care about him. Audrian feels terrible about it.
This video kinda reminds me of your post about gojo’s black shirt is showing how gojo is more opening
oh i love this tiktok, thank u for showing me!
props to the creator, serena, everything was so beautifully said! i completely agree—one of the vertebra in the backbone of gojo’s character is his repression and this unwillingness to address his own feelings, his emotions, his “self” before the whole—his refusal to place himself as a person in a situation instead of a pillar. it’s why the box is such an apt metaphor for him and his compartmentalization! i’ve said this before and i’ll never tire of repeating it: he is jujutsu’s atlas with the world on his shoulders.
i do find it interesting that my opinion on gojo’s mindset after unboxing differs from serena’s! i’ve talked about this before, in this post (albeit, rather messily):
while i agree that gojo is on his way to his second “enlightenment,” i don’t quite think he’s there right now. again, he’s one to repress and avoid addressing his inner emotions—and as of now, he hasn’t addressed anything in a way that would be apparent to the audience. the unboxing can only go so far as a metaphor.
(though, perhaps this is just my personal bias :’) i wanna see an on-screen moment of catharsis, goddammit! just an unboxing as a metaphor isn’t enough for everything he’s been through! we can see his eyes, but what of the thoughts behind them? give him his moment of reprieve! give him love and let him know loneliness in fleeting only!)
to complete his character arc, it would be nice to get another statement juxtaposing his “love is the greatest curse of all” quote, at the very least, maybe at the end of the show, in tandem with his last words to geto. maybemaybemaybe. (i’m actually planning on writing on jjk & love soon! very on brand for a romantic, huh. pray i’ll get it done omg)
Apparently, my decision to be silly and make fanart of someone's writing (because I genuinely enjoy the story the person is writing and I was struck with inspiration upon reading a particular scene) has benevolent and wildly unforeseen consequences.
I apparently gained a bit of control of the canon because said writer really loved the art and decided what I drew/draw is canon.
2. Writer put said artwork into the document of his story right below the scene, so now it's IN the story where people who read the story will see it (with a link to me)
3. He sent the artwork to all his friends and people he knows because he was so excited
Wholesome interaction and I watched him do all that in real time, good stuff. However...there are two more consequences I was notified of today...nearly a full week after I gave the artwork.
Seeing the artwork caused his friends to become interested in reading and hearing about his story, which means more people are reading what he's writing and giving him critique on the story (which he actively asks for).
Apparently, upon seeing the art, his writer friends got a sudden second wind to pick back up writing they'd abandoned for a few months. Because, I quote, "seeing that someone enjoyed {his} writing enough to take the time to make art of it gave them the motivation that maybe THEY can write something that will inspire someone to also create something." I have accidentally caused a writing frenzy among his writer friends and my silly idea to make art for someone has had a butterfly effect for people who I don't even know.
Uhh...I'm pretty sure there's a moral here but I am tired and have a great deal of emotions about this.
On Saturday I hung out with my 84-year-old ecologist great uncle and he stopped in mid-conversation (abt the return of the whooping crane) and very seriously told me that "you can go one of two ways, as a naturalist"; either you keep sight of the hopeful possibilities, or you don't. I'm one of nature's wretched little pessimists but when an old ecologist literally holds your hands in his and tells you, "don't despair," you have to try, I feel.