#but they need to weep

[bethanydelleman]

People who want female characters to cry less? No. Stop it. You're doing it the wrong way. Make male characters cry. Make those beautiful men sob on their knees. Down with all this stupid emotional constipation! Here, I can fix it:

Colonel Brandon after he tells Elinor about his lost love Eliza? Stumbles out of the room, finds somewhere private, and bawls. Edward after leaving Barton Cottage thinking he'll never be able to marry Elinor? Make him weep! Mr. Knightley was glad it was raining when he rode back to Hartfield after learning about Frank's engagement because it gave his tears plausible deniability! Wentworth thinks Anne will marry her cousin? Sobbing mess of a man. Bingley can cry during the proposal when he thinks about all the time he lost not being with Jane. Edmund cries alone in his room after Mary calls clergymen "nothing". Henry Tilney cries without realizing it when Catherine accepts his proposal because he's so glad that no one is angry with him and confronting his father was way more emotionally taxing than he let himself acknowledge at the time. Henry Crawford feeling wretched and alone after the affair and sobbing into his hands. Show us post wedding and make Darcy cry after the birth of his first child.

Make them cry! MAKE THEM ALL CRY

[artofalassa]

“I’m bored.” “So?” “Kiss me. It will make time fly faster.” “Here?” Vash looks around, nervous.

a little smth based on the sweet sweet fic Those Were The Days by @elofrommars 💕

[chinelacanta]

i just know he’d be a really awkward but supportive dad (< delusional)

[chloecherrysip]

Head empty, only thinking about Ultra Protective Big Brother Mario at all times and how ever since he was a literal baby who just learned to walk, his first, strongest instinct, as unthinking and instantaneous as a reflex, as breathing, has been to position himself in between Luigi and the slightest hint of danger with absolutely ZERO hesitation

(Their expressions are EXACTLY the same in the 1st and 3rd image!!!! Some things never change!!!! LOOK HOW HARD I CAN CRY!!!!!)

[serafisolaris]

Mother's Call. Look what they took from me you.

[iced-souls]

For @cupcakeslushie ‘s draw this in your style!

This showed up at a perfect time cause i could feel the artblock start to roll in and I needed something to fill the gap haha—!

LOOK AT THE COLOURFUL NORMAL TURTLE GUY!!!! WITH THE SCYTHE AND EVERYTHING!! YIPPIE!!!

I had a lot of fun with this one! Congrats on 2 years of the empyrean weeping!

(You can find the dtiys post here!)

[godbirdart]

i've been working towards my dream office for ten years and i'm sO overjoyed that i can finally point at it and go: PLEASE LOOK AT IT

also the fact that I can enjoy ACTUAL, REAL SUNLIGHT during my work hours compared to the dark corner i was working in this time last year is just, SO so nice,, 😭💖

[mercymaker]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭.

This beautiful art of Maleane & Astarion was made by the wonderfully talented @tadpole-apocalypse thank you so much!!! They're open to commissions, so check them out!

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Jason learns how to dream walk and terrorizes his family before they become aware of his resurrection.

(it backfires)

[blackkatdraws2]

[Achromatic Loop AU] アゴニー (agony)

[This is a promotional post for my Youtube.]

[suckishima]

ughhhhh the way that tsukishima and yamaguchi pull off their first ever serve and block and we get a glimpse into tsukki's thoughts at that moment and he isn't thinking about how sick it felt to get that stuff block or excited about making the point itself, no, he's remembering snapshots of yamaguchi—from the first "lame" and how he started off so small behind him, to the steps yamaguchi has taken to run full speed ahead of tsukki, surpassing him not in skill but drive and passion and "cool," to the courage it took for yamaguchi to stand up to tsukki and throw that hated "lame" back in his face, and now they're here standing on the court having pulled of what is considered volleyball's perfect play together and tsukki's response to that feat, to those memories of previously getting left behind by this person he once probably saw as beneath him, is to run straight back toward him and celebrate with a smile

[actualfkingvoid]

suonire

[beannary]

heres some silly little ew donnie doodles! i just think he looks so comfy cozy in his hoodies and good god does this boy deserve to be comfy cozy

empyrean weeping is made by @cupcakeslushie !

[hatsukeii]

i caved in guys…i went and read the manga…and now i can’t get them out of my head…

call it fate, call it karma / gojo satoru x reader

genre(s): angst + hurt/comfort, sadness, gojo is a poor unfortunate soul :( conflicting intentions/feelings, tbh he js needs a hug and you can be the one to give it to him!! i do twist up the canon timeline a little bit so apologies for that but it's all for continuity's sake!! im debating over whether this should end well or not but i'll let time decide ;P

warning(s): um idk jjk spoilers for s2 and jjk 0? just sad tbh but no nsfw or anything so dw!!

wc: 1564

tldr; close the door, not all the way.

Fires of cursed energy burn at Gojo Satoru's body as he towers above the corpse of Geto Suguru. He reeks of blood, hands shaky despite barely exerting any power to finally end Suguru's maniac rampage, and his bloodshot eyes train onto the crater pushed into the cavity of his chest, mutilated by his hand.

"You were my one and only best friend, Suguru."

Palms move towards the hanging head as Satoru conjures up the inferno of cursed energy that plagues his body. His eyes sting beneath his blindfold, the energy can't seem to emanate from his fingers.

Enough.

He's already dead. Suguru is not going to get up, he isn't coming back, he can't do anything but slump against the fucking wall, blood pooling at the ground beneath him.

So Satoru shoves his hands back into his pockets, forcing the cursed energy back into his body like a rag soaking up fresh vomit, and runs.

The first time Gojo Satoru shows up at your doorstep unannounced, it is following the death of Geto Suguru, special grade curse user, Tokyo Jujutsu High alum, his best friend gone rogue. He knocks at the door in the rhythmic code that you have established long ago in the secrecy of your usual meeting spot- some alleyway of Shibuya. With two knocks, then a pause, then three, he invites himself in. You sit at the couch, eyes trained on the television as yet another report of mass destruction has graced regional news. You, his beautiful, yet fragile secret behind closed doors, the light at the end of a tunnel, something he swore to never come back to, not in times like these.

"Satoru?" No one has called him that name in years.

The house is silent, spare from the droning news report on the channel. The door shuts gently behind Satoru as he steps his shoes off, and slumps into your floor. You frown, a pang of something bitter plucking at your throat. Something has gone unequivocally wrong. Glances are taken at the faded streaks of dried blood on his hands, his blindfold sitting looser than usual on his nose, his fingers gripping at his hair until strands begin falling off. He rips off the fabric above his eyes, setting his vision free as he soaks in his surroundings; the shuffling of your feet on the hard ground, the city lights that seep into your living room in streaks of yellow and white, your gradually approaching figure.

"Turn it off, Satoru." He turned it off before even reaching for your door.

"It already is."

Your hands pry his own away from his hair, ignoring the stench of death that wafts from his body as you hold them together and bring them to your lips. His breathing finally finds its pace, slowing from frantic hiccups to normal exhalation. Gojo Satoru alone is the strongest, yet in your wake, he is the smallest man alive.

"He's gone. Suguru. He's not coming back."

Your heart drops at the revelation, and Satoru gets up from the ground, pulling you with him as he walks towards your room. Tears begin welling in your own eyes at the sight of his despair, before they ever begin to even form as a knot in his throat. The bags of his eyes suddenly seem this much darker, the twitching of his fingers by his side growing into erratic trembling. Gojo Satoru has killed many before, taken thousands of heads clean off bodies without a second thought, yet the mangled state of Suguru's corpse is everywhere; on your couch, at your desk, through the hallway too. It's all a little too much, a little too fast.

"Satoru..." His name spilling out of your mouth feels exactly as it should. Like home.

His lips quiver, and he collapses into your body, sending both of you into your bed. You toy with his hair, scratching his head the only way you know. Satoru is unmoving, eerily serene as he buries his face into your chest, warm heaves diminishing into small breaths as he passes out in your arms. You hold him in your crossed arms, carving out the perfect cradle for his head to fit into. Fingers continue to massage at his head, and for just a moment he is just Gojo Satoru, rid of the special grade title, stripped of the burden to be the honoured one, away from the despair of Jujutsu.

He leaves the next morning, careful not to wake you, and he swears he will never return. Not when you can live away from the grasp of curses that plague his every waking hour. Not when you can live the life he will never be able to give you.

The next time Gojo Satoru turns up at your doorstep unannounced, it is almost one year later. His arms are heavy, feet dragging along the ground to your apartment. He swore that he would never return, especially not in times like these. You have waited, God, you have waited so patiently. You replayed his head against your chest every night, heart heavy at every passing thought of Gojo Satoru, the man whom you understood from the inside out, but never managed to keep around for long. After one year, the knocks still resonate throughout your apartment; two, pause, then three. The door unlocks, and Satoru selfishly invites himself in at midnight, the same way he did a year ago.

"Satoru?" He has not heard this name in a year, nearly forgotten by most, even himself.

He stumbles towards you on the couch, legs giving out from beneath him as he falls into the plush fabric. He is frail, almost sickly pale, and you shoot up, rushing towards the kitchen to fix him something, anything to help.

"I can't stay." He wants to punch himself for confessing it.

You snap around, glaring at Satoru, who groggily props himself back up from your couch. Like hell he isn't staying, he can barely walk straight.

"Yes you are. You are staying right fucking here, Gojo Satoru."

He doesn't think you understand, rightfully so. You did not see him in that box, waiting day after day to break free. You could not find him beyond the world of the ordinary, uttering baseless prayers to a God that he doesn't believe exists, begging to see you once more before whatever awaits him. You don't know of the promises he has made to keep you safe, which meant keeping himself as far away from you as possible. He swore to never come back, no matter how badly he needed to relish in the mundane for just a fleeting moment.

"I have to go after him, now. I can't let him destroy this world."

You storm towards him on the couch, panadol and hot water in hand as you set them down on the coffee table. It's not much, but it's what you can do.

"Then why did you come back here?"

Satoru's words gather at the base of his throat, too many to release at once. No, he isn't sure why he came back here either, after swearing a million times to never return, for your sake. Yet his questions are answered as you lunge forwards into him, chest heaving and rising frantically as you weep into his shoulder, arms around his neck.

"You were gone for a year, Satoru!" He knows, and he would kill himself a hundred times over if it means you would forgive him.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"So, I'm telling you to stay this time! Don't leave again!"

He readjusts his position to prop himself upright, bringing an arm to the back of your neck as he holds you closer, closer than he ever has before. Pressing a soft kiss into your pulse, his lashes tickle your skin as he stays there. Just for a little longer, he pleads with the ticking clock that taunts him, begging to be the weakest man alive, to be nothing but Satoru, the name that rolls off your tongue in velvety syllables. He squeezes you against his body, and his mind tells him to let go, to release you from the torment that is his existence.

Yet he cannot bring himself to do it, even as the curses run amok across Japan, destroying everything in their wake. He is selfish, thoughtless for any other that is not you.

Until you pull away from him, nose running and dried tears staining your skin. His thumb presses into the streaks, rubbing them dry. He presses kisses into where the tears drew their lines, holding your face in his hands. You shake your head and get up from your position. You know that he means it when he says he has to go.

After all, he is Gojo Satoru, because he is the strongest.

"Go. They need you."

Satoru crawls off your couch, stepping towards you one last time. His hands find your face again, and he holds it tenderly, like it might shatter if he so much as moves. He takes in your eyes, and your hair, and your lips, and everything that is conceivable about you, who he swears he can never come back to, but knows he selfishly will anyways.

He betrays his promise one last time.

"Don't close the door all the way on me, please."

"It never is, Satoru."

author's notes:

YALL i really needed to write angsty gojo as a jjk debut to this account because i feel like all i see is smut and dad gojo or like super smitten gojo but like no i need his heart to fucking BREAK and i need your hearts to break with his too!! sorry not!! this is what true gojo is like and i will actually die on this hill alone if i have to!!

i genuinely hope you guys like it though i thought it up after a martini and two sake shots and literally just fleshed it out when i was fully sober again and i had this whole idea but then the pacing was hard to balance so i had to cut some stuff out because it would be too long and drone on and i was NOT ready to write another 7k fic today sooo

anyways tags!!!

@chuuya-brainrot @starlysama @fiannee @bailey-reeds @catsoupki @akaakeis @hiraethwa

ok i love u guys bye bye until the next one

[iizuumi]

Guess Narumi isn't getting any paperwork done ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[squuote]

no context for these, i just drew them a while back when i was feeling like shit and it made me feel better lol so i colored it. hands you these and runs