#abt moe

[khalixvitae]

I think that everyone should take a moment to think about just how fucking weird Malleus is. Like, he rlly isn’t the super OP, suave, mysterious bad boy trope that he frequently gets boxed into. That is literally in universe propaganda- that’s what his classmates (who are too afraid to talk to him) have like. Made up abt him. He’s actually rlly fucking odd (seemingly even by fae standards) and that is so cool of him. Like. He has a fixation on one particular architectural feature and shows up in your back yard on a weekly basis to infodump at you. His handwriting is basically calligraphy. He does not know how to work a cell phone. He has the most offputting sense of humor known to man and god, yet somehow does not always understand sarcasm when it’s directed at him. The only person who understands him is his equally weird yet socially adjusted 600+ year old adopted father, and even he was so concerned for Malleus’ social development he tagged along with him to school with the goal of making some sort of social connection happen. He’s so odd and I think we should all take a moment to think abt him as a weird little freak

Edit: I wasn’t gonna say the autism word bc sometimes people don’t know how to act when you say their fav emo boy has autism. Side eye. But since y’all have said it yourselves may I reiterate: malleus draconia is dripping w autism and that makes him so cool and relatable imo thank u

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

YOU DRINK YOUR COFFEE BLACK AND WE ARE AFRAID OF EACH OTHER ; SHOKO IEIRI

synopsis; shoko makes you a morning cup of coffee; turns out she’s not very good at that, but it’s the thought that counts.

word count; 4.2k

contents; shoko ieiri/reader, gn!reader (but written w a fem!reader in mind), fluff fluff fluff!!, just normal morning shenanigans at the ieiri household, implied stsg (my brand), shoko can be a girlfailure. as a treat, reader is absolutely whipped (and so am i)

a/n; been writing too much gojo n geto lately. neglecting my wife :((((((( let it be known that i am a shoko stan first human second. this one is for my wlws pls eat up!!!!

you wake up to the sound of your girlfriend’s voice.

melodic and soft, low and saccharine; almost like she’s coaxing you out of hiding. a sound so lovely you wish you could drown in it, laced together with a distinctly raspy tilt, one you can only attribute to the copious amounts of cigarettes she smoked back in high school. a leftover residue, bittersweet memories ghosting her lips — one that gets you a little bit weak in the knees.

in the mornings, it’s particularly prominent, a little intoxicating. manifesting itself as a shiver down your spine, a jolt of your heartbeat, a flush on your skin for every word that she speaks. it’s enough to have you slipping from sleep’s embrace, carried back into the cradle of reality.

why you notice her voice first, and not the smell of something burning — or the sound of insistent beeping — is honestly beyond you. 

it doesn’t take long for your sleepy brain to react, however, a pang of anxiety rushing through your slumbering veins. hurriedly stirring you awake. abrupting your dreamlike, drowsy state, tangled up in silken sheets with your neck smudged by lipstick marks; an alluring red, one shoko typically favors when she’s going out for a drink. coming home just a tiny bit tipsy, affectionate and giggly.

and when your eyelids finally flutter open, your mind melting into the motion of the waking world, you shoot up in a sudden bout of panic.

because fuck, you belatedly, groggily realize — that’s the fucking fire alarm.

and shoko is spewing curses, from afar, loud enough that you can hear it even through the fog of fatigue that clouds your brain. a raspy string of words that you don’t quite catch, but they’re enough to have you scrambling out of bed, nearly bumping into the doorframe as you kick the blanket off your legs.

”what happened?” you croak out, chest heaving a little, having stumbled into the smoke-filled kitchen. disgruntled, reeling with the aftermath of your deep slumber, cold air nipping at your bare skin. the balcony door is open, and the smell of rain invades your apartment.

when you look out the window, all you see is a gray sky, blanketed by a thick coating of wool. smothered by clouds, not a single ray of sunlight slipping through the cracks. the world smells dewy and sweet, asphalt and flowers melting into a nostalgic fragrance, one that reminds you a bit of high school smoke breaks — huddling under the slide at the nearest playground, watching a pretty girl wrap her lips around a cigarette, exhaling smoke just for it to melt into the pouring rain.

one that reminds you a bit of the woman right in front of you, balancing on a chair and stretching her goosebump-ridden arms towards the ceiling, wearing nothing but a lacey bra and a pair of unbuttoned jeans. messy hair that cascades down her back, brows furrowed, eyes simmering with irritation — before flitting over to meet your own.

shoko blinks. then sighs. ”you woke up?” she mutters, and you try not to shiver when the tremor of her voice deepens, morning-fatigue seeping into the syllables. “fuck. sorry, i —”

she stumbles a little, shifting her weight from one foot to another, and you take a step forward. on instinct, as if getting ready to cushion her fall. ready to be of service, in any way you can.

”don’t worry,” she fumbles with the fire alarm, clicking her tongue. nails scraping against plastic. “it’s fine, i just need to — there we go.” 

finally, the beeping stops. and your shoulders relax, immediately, the tight little ball inside your chest untangling. with a deep inhale, the fragrance of espresso and smoke fills your nostrils, and a sense of calm washes over you. rooting your feet to the floor. 

shoko settles down, too, seating herself on the wooden chair. a huff slipping from her lips. they’re smudged, a blurry red she still hasn’t found the energy to wipe away. 

bringing a hand up to card through her hair, lithe fingers in between her messy auburn locks, she exhales. a blend between fatigue and relief.

”god. i need a cig.”

a moment passes. she raises her head, and sees the sleepy little pout playing at your lips — her eyes softening. blooming with something fond. giving you a smile, tired, small. but reassuring. 

”i’m just kidding, love,” she chuckles. “relax.”

”don’t joke about that,” you frown, rubbing the sleep from your weary eyes. stifling a tiny yawn. ”.. took me so long to get you to quit.”

(sometimes you can still see the smoke leave her lungs when she exhales.)

shoko keeps smiling, but doesn’t say anything else. the pitter patter of rain against your balcony railing fills the silence of the kitchen, still brimming with a light layer of smoke, slowly dwindling. cold air drawing it out. clad only in one of suguru’s old t-shirts, you shiver, and shoko seems to notice.

“good morning,” she coaxes, opening her arms slightly — and you move forward, a moth to a flame. without thinking. “sorry for waking you.”

she wraps her arms around your waist, attaching her jaw to the curve of your shoulder, and you melt into the embrace. leaning close, to tuck yourself into her neck. she smells like lavender shampoo. “‘s fine,” you mumble, a yawn muffled into her collarbone. “what happened? are you okay?”

when her plump lips press against the sensitive skin of your neck, right next to one of the kiss marks she left there last night, you can’t help but shiver again. she must feel it, because you can hear the smile she’s trying to bite back in her voice when she answers.

“mm,” she hums, a gravelly noise that makes your throat clog up a little. “just burned something, it’s fine. don’t worry.”

tentatively, you take a step back. just to see her. gazing down at her, into her hazel eyes, the fading crescents beneath them. not as dark as they used to be, not as heavy with lost sleep.

shoko is gorgeous. always, every single day, but you think she’s particularly breathtaking like this. when it’s early, and she’s groggy and a little disheveled, eyes weary and lipstick smudged — bra strap close to slipping off her shoulder, black lace against pale skin, moles littering her forearms and chest like star clusters. oversized jeans that expose the curve of her waist, the fat of her hips, and you don’t notice how intently you’re staring until shoko’s raspy voice reaches your burning ears.

“eyes up here, baby.”

you do as you’re told, and she stifles a chuckle. eyes rich with amusement. you try not to blush.

“sorry.” you chew at the inside of your cheek. eyes trailing to the houseplants by the windowsill. “.. you’re just so pretty.”

shoko tilts her head, an exasperated little breath rolling off her tongue. almost a coo. she’s incapable of blushing; but if she wasn’t, you’re sure she'd blush. 

“thanks.” her touch is light, fingertips trailing down the expanse of your arm. “you are, too. red is a good colour on you.”

you blink. shoko’s eyes are crinkled at the edges, soft lines of crows’ feet, and you huff when you realize she’s talking about the marks on your neck. suddenly a little self-conscious, you bring a hand up to rub at the skin — as if hoping to wipe them away. you doubt it works. shoko just breathes out an airy chuckle, getting up from her seat.

she looks tired, still. stretching her limbs out, sleepily, blinking drowsily.

and it’s odd, you think. that she got up this early, that she didn’t cling to you and make you stay with her in bed like she usually does. you don’t know anyone who loves sleeping in more than shoko does. especially after a night out.

so it’s strange. very strange.

“hey, sho.”

“hm?”

you tilt your head. “why are you up this early, anyway?”

she blinks, and then glances at the clock on the wall. ticking idly, counting down. when she looks back at you, she’s got a single eyebrow raised. “it’s not really early.”

“for you it is,” you quip, something resembling a grin tugging at your lips. and she rolls her eyes, smiling, before linking her arm with yours. bringing you to the stove.

“i was, uh —“ a pause. she does a little cough under her breath, clearing her throat. “trying to make coffee.”

silently, you look at the mess in front of you; what used to be your squeaky-clean stovetop, now stained with a muddy, rusty residue. an unassuming coffee pot sits to the side, having seemingly boiled over, smoke still drifting up into the air.

shoko cringes, a little, before a wry smile makes its way to her lips. ”it was…” she clicks her tongue. sighing softly. ”an attempt.”

”… wait.” you turn to look at her, dubiously, and she avoids your gaze. ”that’s what you burned? coffee?” still no answer. a tiny smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help it if your voice comes out sounding a little teasing. ”how is that even possible?”

”look,” shoko exhales, heavy. ”i don’t know, okay? i think it was the coffee grounds, or something. i look away for one second, and it’s just —”

a little giggle slips from your lips, and shoko shoots you a glare. mostly harmless, but she untangles her arm from your own. ”sorry, it’s just —” you apologize, failing to hide your amusement. ”why didn’t you just use the espresso machine, honey?”

she bites her lip, and you think she might be just a little embarrassed. averting her gaze, briefly flitting towards the machine in question. ”… i didn’t know how to use it,” she mutters. ”i’ve seen you do it, obviously, but i never paid attention to the steps.”

a smile graces your lips. “it’s not that complicated once you know how it works,” you nudge her arm with your elbow. ”it just looks that way.”

she hums. a click of her tongue, as she adjusts her bra strap. ”well, anyway. i tried. so.”

”right.” you try to stifle a grin, to no avail. ”so… you burned your coffee.”

”and woke you up.” she grins, herself, just a tiny bit self-deprecating. but pretty, always, hair falling over her eyes when she tilts her head. ”a mess, aren’t i?”

”not at all.”

shoko looks at you, and your eyes meet hers. unflinchingly. tired irises falling into the gentle hue of your own, trickling down to the curve of your lips. there’s an honesty to your voice that she’s never quite been able to deal with. 

(love, she thinks. a kind of love she finds somewhat hard to stomach. a sea of acceptance that she fears she’ll eventually drown in.)

before she can properly fall into a morning spiral, you stretch your neck a bit, idly, and she gets a good look at the red marks littering your skin. the way your pulse beats at the base of your throat. tender, slight, a mantra she’s grown just a little bit addicted to. 

”why, though?” you hum, and shoko blinks. snapped out of her thoughts, and back into reality. back into you, the faux pout on your lips. playful, but a little confused. ”i thought i was the coffee brewer of this relationship…” 

and it’s true. you’ve been making shoko’s morning cups of coffee for a while, now, even before you moved in together. she likes it black, sometimes with a drop of cream, sometimes with a cube of sugar. never both. you think it’s very like her, to tiptoe that line between bitter and sweet — never entirely giving in to one or the other. there’s a balance to shoko, something stable. something for you to hold on to, a bitter tinge or syrupy taste that always leaves you yearning for more.

truthfully, your coffee brewing skills aren’t anything special. but it makes shoko happy, to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, being able to hug your back. being handed a cup of fresh coffee. sipping from it in silence, muttering out a groggy good morning that makes your heart flutter.

(to you, it’s precious. that lilt of her voice, that bittersweet tinge. the dearest thing in the world.)

plump bottom lip trapped between her teeth, shoko furrows her brows. ever so slightly. nails tapping at the edge of the kitchen counter, a series of satisfying clicks against the marble. “… well.” 

she clears her throat, but doesn’t say anything else. a moment passes. you try to find the answer in the curve of her lips, the crease of her brow, in the depths of her eyes — but you don’t succeed.

something discomforting settles in the bottom of your throat. almost uncertain, maybe a bit anxious. sheepish, as your tired mind spins in circles. parting your lips. hesitant.

“do you… not like the way i make it?” there’s a dejected tilt to your voice when it spills out, one that makes you feel a little silly. so you smile, or try to, eyes trailing towards the windows; you note that the rain has grown heavier. “i can change how —“

“what?” shoko cuts you off. “no. no, of course not — your coffee’s perfect. honestly.”

again, your eyes meet. and again, shoko seems to be struggling with finding the right words. or maybe she’s struggling to voice them.

“i just… haah.” she brings a hand up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. you just watch, silent, hungry to hear the thoughts she’s not letting you in on.

a beat. again, the sound of the rain against steel railings, the scent of honeydew and concrete. espresso-flavored smoke, almost entirely faded, leaving only cold air to nip at your thighs. 

and again, as always, inevitably, your eyes are fixed on shoko — a moth to her flame. helpless to the cinders that ghost at your skin whenever she looks at you. a certain contemplation swims inside her eyes, simmering beneath the surface, as she chews gently at the plush of her lips. before turning to face you.

you can only blink. but shoko finally speaks, clearing her throat in a way that strikes you as rather sheepish.

“well — you’re always the one doing all the work. aren’t you?” her voice trickles out into the air, low and saccharine, a blanket pulled over your shoulders. so soft you hold your breath and strain your ears, just to make sure you hear it. “i guess i figured… i don’t know.”

shoko pauses, again, and you can almost delude yourself into thinking there’s a cherry red tint to the tips of her ears. when she parts her lips, that usually carefree voice of hers sounds almost meek. almost, but not quite. more like unsure. embarrassed?

another moment passes, entirely silent. shoko swallows her pride.

“.. satoru always brags about suguru making him those fucked up sugary drinks he likes,“ she mumbles. turning around, to rest her back against the counter, looking out at the downpour. “says it makes him feel so loved. or whatnot. so i just —“ 

she waves her hand, haphazardly. 

“you know.“

a beat. then another. you can physically feel your lips part, a kind of surprise weaving itself into the contours of your face. 

and when you finally speak, your voice comes out a little garbled, scrambling for the right words. not sure if you should feel deeply amused, or just a tiny bit horrified. “wait. you’re saying you…” a moment passes. silent, slow, and all you can do is blink owlishly. in disbelief.

“… got inspired by suguru?”

shoko groans, deep and gravelly, almost comically agonized. covering her face with her pretty hands. “don’t say it,” she pleads, “you’re making it sound as dumb as it is.”

a little giggle slips from your lips. accidental, but she still shoots you a displeased look, huffing under her breath. crossing her arms just to tap at her forearm with her nimble fingers. frowning.

“don’t laugh at me.”

“sorry,” you search for her gaze, but she keeps looking ahead. so stubborn. “i don’t mean to, ‘s just — not very like you, y’know?”

shoko exhales. nearly a huff, but not quite. and you think she must be embarrassed, gnawing at her lip like that, fingers eagerly searching for something to fidget with. it makes you soften, impeccably, the blood inside your veins warming up beneath your skin. stirring you, coaxing you into soothing her. your very own heartbeat seems to be a little enamored with shoko ieiri.

”i appreciate the thought,” you smile. a tender tone, sincere. lingering with amusement. “really. but let’s not base our entire relationship around satoru and suguru of all people, alright?”

and again, she sighs. brittle, a little fatigued. brows scrunching together. ”look, i —”

a pause. she gnaws at her plump bottom lip, eyelashes fluttering like a battered heartbeat. her voice comes out sounding soft, all duvet pillows and fresh lavender, a lilt that anchors you to earth. sweet words. so honest it makes your breath hitch.

”i want to take care of you.”

and this time, you’re the flustered one. burning under her gaze, feeling a heat blossom on your skin. feeling the fervent pitter patter of your heartbeat, as her pretty eyes look into yours. a nice mocha brown. 

but even with the fresh embarrassment trickling through your veins, you find it in you to speak. desperate, maybe, to cross the distance between you — even when it borders on non-existent. desperate to feel your heartbeats synchronize, figuratively or literally. to stitch them together.

“i want to take care of you, too,” you echo, looking down at the floor. and then back at your girlfriend. hesitant, a tad shy. but sincere.

a sincerity so palpable it makes shoko feel a little jealous. 

(sometimes, she finds herself wanting to put a hand inside your chest. dig around your organs, run her fingertips down every single one, until she finds what she's looking for. that miraculous something that makes you stick around, that makes you so frighteningly easy to love. that makes her want to safeguard you so terribly.)

”then let’s take care of each other,” she breathes, a small smile slipping into the curve of her lips. reaching out to brush against your knuckle, weave your fingers together. delicate. 

she clears her throat. “… i guess.” 

and you can’t help but smile. somewhat cheeky, a little teasing. “ah,” your eyes crinkle, and you stifle a coo. “did that embarrass you?”

a sharp little scoff. shoko gives you a lazy grin, paired with a soft roll of her eyes. brushing her thumb across your knuckles, even still. “oh, shut up.”

the world seems to still, ever so slightly, as you look into each other’s eyes. like everything else is just background noise, from the pitter patter of the rain to the fading smell of coffee all around you. shoko looks at you like she’s trying to see inside your brain, see what makes you tick, see you for what you are.

and when she eventually leans in for a kiss, you’re pliant. expectant. her lips against yours, breathing you in, as soft as ever. like she’s afraid of getting too greedy. she tastes like nectar and cosmetics.

“give me some time,” she says, after pulling back. hands on your waist, squeezing softly. “i’ll make you another cup right now.”

”sure you don’t want me to do it?” you ask. “i don’t mind.”

another little scoff. offended. ”look, i’m not incompetent, okay? i’m just not used to it.” she untangles herself from you, warmth slipping away. you will yourself not to chase it. “just stand there and look pretty for me.”

and she smiles, when those words make you giggle, infected by your sleepy joy. something soft and silky blooms inside her ribcage, mirrored by the glimmer in your eyes when you intertwine your hands again. fingertips brushing against each other, delicate, a love that’s handled with care.

”.. i like making you coffee,” you whisper after a beat. smiling. under your breath, like you’re telling her a secret. ”it makes me happy.”

a moment passes. something in shoko’s bones still, for a second, enough for you to notice. and her eyes fill with a kind of hesitance. doubt, maybe. or fear.

when shoko opens up to you, it’s always like this. sleepy, rainy days, or tipsy afternoons. in no more than a whisper, a fragile breath, the ghost of a confession. when you can feel her heartbeat, one finger on her wrist, listening to the rhythm of her pulse. intimate. a little clumsy, but…

”i just don’t want you to spend too much of yourself on me.”

the words are spoken in passing, almost casually, a lighthearted kind of resignation. a hungry ghost. one that follows her, follows you. suguru and satoru, too. there’s a lump in her throat, you can tell, something that makes it a little harder to say what she means. an intimacy that frightens her in a way nothing else can; frightened to hold it in her palms, to keep it close without having it break apart.

(not just her — you all are. all four of you. that’s why you've always been together, you think, why you always will be. four hedgehogs huddling together in the cold of night, too desperate for warmth to stay away from each other's spines.)

carefully, almost cautiously, you bring her hand to your lips. as if you’re handling a flimsy sheet of glass. featherlight, a touch so tender you hope she knows what you’re about to say before the words leave your throat.

“you’re worth it,” is whispered against her skin, your lips against her knuckles. shoko softens, but you think the sigh that slips from her lips sounds just a little shaky. “always.”

and finally, you know you aren't deluding yourself. it’s there, visible, the cherry red of her ears; a red that matches the lipstick on your skin. a flush that never travels down to her face. but it’s enough.

she clears her throat. voice beginning to change shape, slowly but surely, morning fatigue peeled off with the ticking of the clock. there’s still a raspy residue, leftover smoke that’ll never quite leave her lungs, but it’s silkier now. trickling like honey from her parted lips.

and it’s terribly soft, her tongue twisting around the vowels, a low lilt that drips with tenderness. she wills herself to smile. tired, but fond. “just let me make you one cup, then.”

so you do.

you let her, after briefly pointing out the functions of the far too expensive espresso machine that satoru bought you when you first moved in, and she listens intently. those pretty eyes, the intelligence behind them, her lips pursed in focus. shoko’s a genius, you’ve always thought — so effortlessly good at memorization, at figuring out how things work. what ties everything together. 

you think it’s a little comical that she struggled so much with making coffee, of all things, but you choose to attribute it to her slight hangover.  

because she’s focused, when she begins to fiddle with the machine. attentive. as if she’s dissecting it. a satisfaction in the way she moves, the way everything clicks into place as she works. everything serves a purpose, every single part in the machinery, every tube or pump of caffeine. she compares it to the human body, a glint in her eyes, and you can’t disagree.

all you can do is watch her. silently, entirely mesmerized. sitting on the kitchen counter, bare thighs against the marble, swinging your legs. telling her about the dream you had, while she listens. always.

a fresh, thick aroma of espresso and rainwater begins to waft through the apartment. one you drink in, greedy, steam filling your lungs. as you admire how the tiny droplets bounce off the hyacinths blooming on your balcony.

and when she’s finished, producing one cup of espresso, tailored to your liking, you can’t still the beating of your heart. unsure if you should blame it on the caffeine yet to enter your veins, or the proud smile that lingers on your girlfriend’s lips. maybe the way her fingers curl around the handle, the way a soft here, baby, spills from her smudged lips. all of the above, probably.

she’s gorgeous. breathtaking. sometimes you want to give her everything, more than you could live without. your heart, your lungs, your eyes. anything she asks for.

but she would never. all she’ll ever need is for you to keep sticking around, keep telling her about your silly dreams, keep letting her feel the beat of your pulse at the base of your throat. a mantra she’s fallen a little bit in love with.

and when you put your lips against the ceramic, and a bittersweet scent fills your lungs, you think you can taste it. that care, a love soft enough to mend all the jagged edges of your heart.

shoko smiles. smoothing a stray eyelash from your skin, thumb against your cheekbone. “how is it?”

(you swear it’s the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.)

[livwritesstuff]

Steve closed down his computer after his last therapy session of the day (it was a short day – it’s only three in the afternoon), and swiveled around in his chair to look out the window onto his backyard.

It’s nice out. He could go for a walk around the neighborhood or putter around the yard for a while –  probably one of the last opportunities before the fall weather starts to turn on them.

He knows he isn’t going to do either of those things though. Instead, he’s gonna sit around keeping one eye on his phone because he knows his oldest daughter Moe’s course schedule and he knows she’s about to be heading to her next class which means she’s probably going to be calling him just like she’d done two other times today.

Sure enough, only a few minutes later, Steve’s phone started to ring with a call from Moe.

“Hey,” he said as he answered the call.

“Hi Pop,” she replied, her voice coming through the phone a little crackly, broken up by the sound of wind and city traffic around her.

“You on your way to class?”

“Uh-huh. That chem for engineers course – Pop, you wouldn’t believe the shit that rats get up to in this city. It’s crazy. I literally just saw a massive one dragging a whole bag of those little…you know…the red cheese – well, the cheese isn’t red, it’s just–”

“Babybels,” Steve finishes for her.

“Yeah, those! Pop – an entire bag of Babybel cheese being dragged down the street by a rat," Moe exclaims before immediately heading down another tangent.

Two months into Moe’s freshman year of college, Steve thinks she might be a little bit lonely.

She’s always been independent (sometimes to a scary extent, if he’s honest) and she’d handled most of the transition like a champ, but that kind of independence has its ups and downs, and Moe’s never been all that great at the social stuff. Unlike her sisters, she hadn’t had a big group of friends in high school, just a few good ones that she’d made early on in school and stuck with until graduation.

Now, he thinks she might be having some trouble with the whole making new friends piece of moving to a brand new city (goddamn New York City, because these kids won’t let him see a second of peace, and even though he trusts Moe and knows she can take care of herself, Steve still isn’t really in a place yet where he can sleep easy knowing she’s out there on her own).

He knows that Moe will find her people just like he had done years ago. In the meantime, she's been fulfilling that human need for social interaction through lots of calls with him and Eddie (and he'd once even caught Moe and Robbie on a video call together, which he's pretty sure had never happened before).

Steve’s not gonna complain. He’d pretty much drop anything to talk to his kids.

After a few minutes, the background noise coming from Moe's side of the call fades away.

"Okay, I have to go," Moe says, "I might call you later."

"I'm around," Steve replies, because for her (for all his kids), he'll always be.

"'Kay. Love you Pop."

"I love you too."

He waits a beat for Moe to end the call and when she does, he gets up, sticks his phone in his back pocket so he'll know when it rings again, and goes on with his day.

[liquidstar]

this is not a comprehensive list

[akq96618]

ISHIDO AND SHIRABE SHOULD MEET. TWO ALIEN LOVERS THAT'LL BE FUN. Pity they're from different productions.

YOU'RE SO RIGHT FOR THIS

idc idc if they're from different productions, LET'S UNLEASH OUR IMAGINATION!!!!

[solargeist]

bro I haven’t been here in like a week, did your art style change or is that ask someone else’s art

OH THIS ?

its from a comic anon was asking abt !! its by @/kitsuneisi

[sleepyminty]

Im not including the dm2 cast since they dont leave a mark on me

[trainerethan]

Red with flat affect but he's actually very affectionate and easily excited about things. He just doesn't emote. As kids it throws green off at first bc he doesn't like being ignored and thinks red is ignoring him/doesn't gaf. He's super rejection sensitive so gets upset but red manages to explain that he's not he just. Looks like this. As adults green finds it's cute rather than being upset by it.

[moestavern]

Uhh something something sharing a pool table

[bloodmoonblitz]

yeah we gay. keep scrolling

[yuelaos-codex]

Wedding Ship Meme

link to template by @heyneon

tagging @bbrocklesnar @alexxmason @captmactavish @onehornedbeast @finding-comfort-in-rain @carlosoliveiraa @tao-tgsh @ghastlyrider @captastra and anyone who wants to ✨ no pressure ofc!

Decided to do both ending 2 (my canon) and ending 3 to show how different yet similar the routes are!

++ some rambles/explanations under the cut:

ASCENDANT ENDING

THE PRENUP

this is sending me bc i have this long ass timeline that leads to them signing a prenup:

- astarion ascends, then breaks up with selene bc she didn’t want to become his spawn

- selene comes with karlach and wyll to avernus, but she doesn’t last long (she’s a lover not a fighter 💀) karlach convinces her to go back to faerun. she tells her that she has been on autopilot ever since, and she has not had the time to process the breakup. the constant fighting in the hells was not helping

- hesitantly she goes back to waterdeep, where she learns that she is being summoned back to evereska. she journeys there and gets celebrated as the savior of baldur’s gate. she starts creating songs abt her adventures. somehow, she still felt as an outsider in her family despite getting acknowledgment. she goes back to waterdeep where she feels more at home

- she slowly builds her reputation. the reunion party also happens during this time.

- 3 years pass by. she goes back to baldur’s gate ever since the brain. not as a hero, but as a performer this time 🥳

- they see each other again ever since the party

- zariel arc begins(!) selene recruits astarion (and the gang!) to help defeat zariel. this is where they rebuild their relationship, whatever it was. they make house of hope their homebase

- before the final fight, astarion, desperate and pissed off that selene was not jumping on his advances, propositions (again 😩) to turn her. they get into this massive fight. selene tells him that the only way that they can make this work is to enter a (magical, hell-powered) contract, where he can’t compel her and in return she can’t leave or betray him. astarion, who was planning all along to turn selene into a vampire bride (where he actually can’t compel her) instead of a spawn, agrees to it since the contract was heavily in his favor. BOOM PRENUP. they both sign it. astarion turns her the very same night 💀 they’re basically married at this point

- they defeat zariel yay, slowly take over baldur’s gate while also getting a vacation home in waterdeep while also traveling the world yadda yadda. then they have a wedding despite already being married for years bc why not ✨

THE WEDDING

at this point selene is a very famous singer, and astarion close to becoming the shadow ruler of baldur’s gate. their wedding gets called the wedding of the century— think the royal wedding, imagine the masses crowding on the gates trying to see what’s going on inside 💀 they hold it during the daytime to squash all the rumors of them being vampires. their motif is white and gold, and is heavily influenced by elven culture. selene’s gown’s train is around 20 ft long. their cake is 3 minscs and 8 boos tall. the festivities lasted for DAYS. lots of hedonistic debauchery occurred ehehe

THE SONGS

so i chose songs that had wedding vibes but also toxic when you listen to the lyrics. chemtrails over the county club is about choosing to live in your own safe and comfortable bubble despite the ongoing horrors outside (cue in my snow globe symbolism for them). there’s also this line where it says “it’s never too late, baby, so don’t give up” which makes me feel that there’s still hope in the relationship becoming healthy… eventually 🤡 (i mean, they actually have forever between them). you belong to me is very fitting bc astarion can let her roam the world freely, but ultimately she can’t leave him. (this also aligns with one of the voicelines a!astarion has if tav leaves with karlach to avernus as a spawn— he tells them that he allowed them to go with karlach bc he’s not some “controlling monster”. he could summon tav back beside him if he wanted to.)

SPAWN ENDING

THE WEDDING

as for the spawn ending, at first they want to hold it with just the two of them but then word gets around, and now everyone was excited for the wedding! they didn’t expect so many people would want to congratulate and celebrate with them. imagine 7k+ people wanting to attend 💀💀💀

they hold the wedding reception in the underdark, but made their vows privately under the night sky 🥹😭 MOON AND STAR MOTIF LFG 😭😭😭

THE SONGS

just a quick one: there’s this line in your universe that says “you can thank your stars all you want but, i’ll always be the lucky one” which i think perfectly sums up how he views tav/selene. bc who in their right mind would help a vampire— a monster, let alone give them their blood? only tav/selene. (which also aligns with his voiceline saying “other people don’t have a heart like that. you’re… you. no one is like that.”) ANYWAY ENOUGH RAMBLING THANKS FOR READING 😘

[hasarjunadoneanythingwrong]

🐼🐻

[milkbreadtoast]

need everyone to see these... SOBSSSSS🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎... (webtoon 48)

[pineapplesaresweet]

they know me as the guy who draws the lamb-sona of my streamer

[marcsnuffy]

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

have you ever thought about yandere geto more specifically yandere CULT geto. cus i do. quite often.

HI ANON hmmm hm hm………… okay so honestly. i’m not super into yanderes at all so i don’t know if i’ll have much to contribute with when it comes to this kinda thing :’3 bUT i do love cult leader!geto to the moon and back + i’ve been thinking of him incessantly lately + i think he’s only a couple steps away from being a yan lol.

geto’s whole Thing is his contrast; he can kill a man swiftly, cruelly, only to go meet his beloved family right after with a genuine smile on his face. (we see that almost instantly in jjk 0!!) he really does have that cruel / soft contrast that i assume a bunch of yan content is built on…. he would treasure his beloved soooo dearly and i absolutely don’t think he’d shy away from killing any non-sorcerers that were giving them trouble… but again!! this isn’t even yan!geto, this is literally just Geto. that’s just how he is in canon 😭😭 he’s willing to go to any lenghts to protect his loved ones, and his own morals are aligned towards his view of non-sorcerers as non-human. he doesn’t see them as human, so why would he feel guilty for killing them?

but ok so to kinda go back to the idea of yan!geto… i think the biggest difference between him and yan!gojo (imo!!) is that gojo is willing to look past his morals to keep you safe, knowing that it’s Wrong but choosing not to care, while geto doesn’t let go of his morals — instead, he twists them until they align with what he’s doing. if that makes sense. to him, doing what he does for you is morally just. so he doesn’t feel shame or guilt for it.

aaaaand this is also why i don’t really feel Equipped to talk abt him….. because yan!geto would probably be a lot Worse than yan!gojo …….. and i’m embarrassingly sensitive to dark content :’3 i can see the appeal and the yan undertones are absolutely There but i think i see cult leader!geto in a very moe light PHJEHSJD he’s… my meowmeow. he can do no wrong. he hasn’t had a single evil thought in his Life <33

SOO to change the subject rq!!!!! kind of!!!! (i’m sorry anon i’ve just been thinking abt more fluffy scenarios w him lately and i need an outlet </3) i genuinely think cult leader geto!would be such a great lover :(( it’s easy to see him as a yan (AND THERE’S ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG W THAT TO BE CLEAR) but i just . genuinely think he would be sooo gentle and loving and silly? protective and possessive and imposing, sure, but he would honestly rather die than hurt you in any way. i don’t think his soul could take it.

like. it’s just so telling that geto canonically lets his family believe what they want, and do what they want; he doesn’t force them to see non-sorcerers the same way he does, he doesn’t keep nanako & mimiko from exploring the world and interacting w non-sorcerers, and so on!! his own beliefs are steadfast, but he doesn’t use them as an excuse to confine the people he cares for. he trusts them and loves them and even though i’m sure he’s paranoid he lets them run free.

so!! i think he would be very patient and accepting no matter what his s/o believed or did. i can see him being a bit a Lot of a helicopter parent but it’s never malicious, it’s just for safety purposes!! he just couldn’t bear to have anything happen to you </3 cult leader!geto is cynical and cautious and he isn’t taking any chances when it comes to your safety. but!! he’s still so silly and doting and i think he’s just so sweet…. 🥺🥺 i’m writing the outline for a fic rn where his s/o works at a regular preschool and he hates interacting with your coworkers in any capacity but he still does it to make u happy … yk??? like how he went with his girls to eat crepes in jjk 0. he just wants to give and give. our acts of service king <333

overall i see cult leader!geto as someone who hides his inherent softness behind a dark exterior, and while he’s far more willing to be cruel than hs suguru was, he never really changed at his core!! he’s just overflowing with softness and care. we see this so clearly in the scene where he’s alone with nanamimi, his girls, and everything is soft and quiet and geto is completely unguarded. and he’s so, so soft. his softness doesn’t even have a twisted hint to it, he just loves you. and he wants the best for you. i think the horror would only come from seeing how quickly he goes from cooing into your ear to disposing of a non-sorcerer with a freezing look in his eyes; the whiplash is scary. but if it scared his s/o i think he’d be hell-bent on not letting you see him like that unless absolutely necessary.

it’s difficult because so much of his character in this stage of his life has to do with cruelty, but all he truly wants at his core is to create a world where his loved ones will be happy :(( where he can protect them properly. idk i just can’t really see cult leader!geto as toxic at the end of the day….. he’s a puppydog to me. a foxcoded, silly little guy. despite his cult leader / genocide loving tendencies i think he would be a very soft, selfless lover <333 overwhelmingly devoted. the weight of his devotion could honestly be frightening and i feel like he could be sweet in a kind of twisted way (something like this) but at the end of the day he’s very particular about only showing you his soft side.

THOSE ARE MY SPONTANEOUS THOUGHTS i’m sorry they weren’t too focused on yan!geto anon :’3 but i hope u got some enjoyment out of them anyway!!! if u have any thoughts of ur own then i’d absolutely love to hear em <33