#he is because I am 😌

[biigiiiii]

I was today years old when I realised Mike probably didn’t literally ask for vomit green socks, he was just likely making a joke about the colour of the ones he was given. I thought he was just being his quirky goofy awkward self like “lmao guys I actually asked for vomit green socks 🙊 I’m so random”. …. I think because he’s just so awkward (affectionate) I was ready to accept, without question, that he would actually ask that lmao

(It’s ok. Mike wouldn’t have got the joke either 😭)

Mike: you mean you LITERALLY asked for vomit green socks?! 🤨

Lucas, probably: …. Omg, I can’t take you anywhere

I wanna know what other people think, was it just me or did other people think he literally asked for vomit green socks? Where my Mike-wheeler-literally-asked-for-vomit-green-socks defenders?

[thatswhatsushesaid]

psa that the day there are no jgy stans left on tumblr dot com is the day i am dead

but rest assured i'll go to my grave exactly as i lived: obnoxiously proclaiming to everyone within earshot how great lianfang-zun is. narratively, metaphorically, spiritually. sexually, too, like why limit myself. i like to keep my options open

[willowser]

you don't know how much comfort your dragon king bkg drabble has given me ever since you posted it!! i keep reading it i love it sm 🥹

as it turns out, the man bakugou is — a bit harder to handle.

he sleeps like a heathen; you once thought the dragon bakugou to be a bit lazy, with how often he tended to curl up in the fields of grass, warm under the sun, but now — it would seem his little human form needs significantly less rest.

almost up all hours of the day, and when he does finally lay down, he's everywhere. a mess of limbs: one thrown carelessly out to the side and the other bent at an angle you can't believe doesn't hurt his joints. his head stays tucked into you somehow, either buried in your neck or pressed against your ribs — or you'll wake to find him nose-to-nose with you. he still snores like a dragon, however.

you're also beginning to wonder if there is a bottom to the pit of his stomach. he ate much before, whole fields of things, but you expected that appetite to dwindle, at least a little, now that his stomach has decreased considerably in size. and in number ? you're not even sure how many stomachs a dragon has; that's not something that was mentioned in the fairytales.

it burns through him quickly, gives him more energy than he needs, and it doesn't ever seem to affect his weight much. already, he's huge and thick with muscle and eating as much as he does never dulls the severity of his cut abdomen. not that you're looking all that much.

— not that you have a choice not to, as he seems to have little-to-no understanding of —

the door to the bathhouse kicks open, with enough force that you already know who it is without ever turning to look. you try not to shriek when you see him, because he seems to like that in some evil, impish way.

you've been alone to wash so far, thankfully, as the inn you'd managed to find was small and far enough out from the nearest kingdom that the occupancy was low — enough for you and your little brute.

the man bakugou comes to stand in front of the bath, blinking and huffing against the steam. finding clothes for him was — nearly impossible, and so the trousers you'd found hanging on someone's line outside fit above his ankles, a bit too tight around his waist. instead of a shirt, you've wrapped him in a scratchy linen, swaddled him up like a baby to cover the small smattering of scales that decorate his body, almost like freckles from the sun, though they gleam just as bright and red as they ever have. no matter his form.

a horn has started to sprout, on the right side of his forehead, and you've done your best to cover that, too.

you have no idea how long this man thing will last. if it's permanent or if he even has control over it. the last thing you need is for him to switch back, somehow, while you're in the middle of feeding him, absolutely demolishing whatever tavern you're in and calling all of king todoroki's guards to attention.

bakugou grunts, almost sleepy, and tosses a fat, weighty sack onto the edge of the bath. it jingles a certain jingle that makes your heart stop.

"oh, allfather—" you move for the edge, awkwardly keeping one arm against your chest despite the fact that he's seen it all by now. when you peek inside and confirm your fears, you lob it back to him furiously, as if it were a steaming potato. "where do you keep getting this stuff?"

things have started to turn up, miraculously. shiny things — like coins and rings and gems. things he could not have simply found rolling around in the dirt.

"go put it back!" you hiss at him, and the tone of your voice makes his frown deepen. you never realized how pouty he was, when he was still a dragon.

you think he understands you, and you're pretty certain he just chooses not to listen; instead of doing what you've told him in the slightest, he simply dumps the coin-purse to the floor, and then lets his linen and stolen trousers cover it as he unceremoniously undresses.

the biggest issue that you would say the man bakugou poses is — his complete lack of understanding of personal space.

"bakugou!" your voice wavers, shocked again by his nakedness. as if you haven't seen it all by now. "no, you — get out!"

but he does the exact opposite, which is hop into the steaming water, ignoring the arm you hold out to keep him away as he saddles up beside you. skin against scales, pressing a nose into your hair to huff out his annoyance, to make it something you can feel.

if anyone were to walk in right now, they would — probably think the lie you'd told the innkeeper was true. that you are a simple traveler and this is your mute, over-sized husband.

regardless, you think this behavior isn't polite. especially in a public bathhouse.

"bakugou," you try again, turning your face away as you speak to the wood-paneled wall. "i'm taking a bath, you have to wait your turn."

all you receive in response is another huff against your ear and a low rumble of disagreement from his chest.

he has yet to speak back, and has only used inhuman sounds as his points of conversation. the only word you've ever heard him utter is oi, which he does when he really thinks he needs your attention. you're starting to wonder if he's named you that in his head. oi.

curiously, you turn back to him and the movement has him pulling his face from your hair, just enough that he can look down at you, too. watch you, with the red-rippled sea in his eyes.

they're — amazing, you will admit. just as bright and detailed as they always have been. fit for a fairytale told by the fire, veiled by the soft-ash of his lashes. he watches you through them, half-lidded, and you wonder if it's something other than fatigue that has them so heavy.

"do you know what i'm saying?" you ask quietly, voice lacking the firm heat you want it to. instead it's heavy, too, weighted by something soft and unfamiliar and frightening. "can you even understand me?"

bakugou doesn't respond, not with a huff or a rumble or ever a purr, like the one he let out on the night he lay over you by the lake. you've only heard it sparingly since then, oftentimes in his sleep when his face is pressed into you.

you try not to frown at his silence, try not to let it disappoint you because it shouldn't; he's a dragon afterall, and you're not sure what it matters. the little horn protruding from his forehead catches your eye and you reach up to touch it gently, watching him blink away the water that drips from your wrist — and then he's turning into you again, too close.

beneath the water, you feel his hands skate up your bare thighs, wrap around your waist until your chest is pulled flush against his. you feel his huff, again, against the damp skin of your neck but it's slower, lighter. not laced with his frustration. some unknown thing you feel guilty for liking.

you drop your hand to his hair, rushing full force into all the damned things you've thought about doing but have been too afraid to. he's soft between your fingers, and you trace your nails lightly against his scalp until he groans quietly; a new noise, one you don't know how to translate.

your fingers stop when they brush upon little spines that have grown at the base of his skull, that have started to trail down the center of his back.

suddenly, tangled up in the bath with him, you wonder how much time you have left.

bakugou huffs again into your skin, a little fiercer this time, and it's because of his light jostling that you realize how rigid you've gone. you try to relax so that he will, too, though you must not do a convincing job, because a sharp nip comes to your earlobe.

"ow!" you squeal, but he doesn't let you go far, not even as you try to jerk away from him. in fact, the harder you try the more his teeth show: into your cheek and the point of your jaw and then dangerously low on your neck.

it's not until you finally freeze that he stops, huffing again, with a warmth that burns more than the steaming water.

and then, very quietly, he grumbles, "shitty wife," into your collarbone, just before biting you again.

[sad-endings-suck]

Taigen will duel Mizu in London, where unbeknownst to him, you use guns instead of swords in duels… and the rules are very different, such as allowing another to duel in your place. But thanks to Fowler (and having been in London a little longer than Taigen, presumably) Mizu will know this… and chaos will ensue in the least predictable and most entertaining way possible.

[xxskycrystalxx]

KASTLE IS COMING BACK TO US!!!!!!!!!!

[nuppu-nuppu]

crybaby

[myreia]

— iv. broken | trust

Trust. It isn’t easily given, nor is it easily accepted. He was the first person she trusted in Eorzea. She doesn’t know how or why, but she did. She took that risk. In the years that followed, there was a time when their friendship had disintegrated to such a degree that it was a stab to the gut, and all they knew was how to twist the knife deeper. Even then—even through that—she trusted him. Trusted him when they were both broken and stupid and fuelled by spite and hate and grief. The faith she has in him is a different kind now. Stronger, implicit, as natural as drawing breath. When they are in the thick of it, he is her guardian and she his shield. She trusts him. Even when he is being impetuous and stubborn and a fool. Even when he has no regard for his own well-being. When sacrifice is a word that comes terrifyingly easily to his mind.   She knows he will do the right thing. And she will be there, to pick him up when he is broken, just as he has done for her. Come what may, she will be there.

[castieldelamancha]

cas knowing dean is like super grumpy in the mornings but not knowing he is actually grumpy 'cause he would love to wake up with cas next to him and get a nice good morning kiss and a cuddle from him

[bobosbillionsknives]

Why's he so sleeepyyuy 🤗💖 I swear there are so many moments of knives yawning what the FUCK does he have to be so sleepy about. 😒 GET YOUR ASS UP AND WORK ! He's so silly I love him

He can't be tired from doing his job because he literally doesn't do anything. 🙄 He always has people doing shit for him he just lies around in his garden all day BROODING.

I always assumed he had terrible nightmares or something because somehow despite his cushy ass lifestyle he seems to get less sleep than VASH dude like are you serious. 🤦‍♂️

[thatonegayship]

I loved the cowboy comic so much that I wrote a oneshot for it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/50934235 🥺 your art is BEYOND amazing, ty for the food

INCREDIBLE!!!!!

[whatudottu]

This just in, local bisexual disaster finds his taste in women in need of a rain check- is the imagined kabedon suggestive enough to need a tag?

Hey what if Tranformers Prime really emphasised that Airachnid was very much a poacher and that her schtic as an (albeit temporary on her part) interrogator of the Decepticons were skills she had taken from poaching endangered game and mounting them on her walls?

[thatswhatsushesaid]

man, but like.... why is there a contingent of jiang cheng stans who are incapable of stanning their special guy (totally justifiably! i support you!!) without shitting on jin guangyao in the process? why are these fans capable of doing deep narrative dives to understand and contextualize jiang cheng's justifiable actions re: wei wuxian and the wen remnants pre-timeskip, who write thoughtful screeds in defence of his feelings of anger and betrayal vis-a-vis the golden core reveal, but lose that capability entirely the second jin guangyao shows up?

is it because jin guangyao is mean to jiang cheng while trying to not get murdered as his whole life collapses around him? jiang cheng is a big boy, jin guangyao's carefully calculated spiel to provoke him during the guanyin temple confrontation doesn't even make the list of top ten most traumatic things to happen to him, he'll be fine.

feral jc stans should be friends with feral jgy stans because nobody else likes us 🥲

[south-sonic]

the contented look on the face of someone who knows he won the pack lottery in spite of all the shit he pulled

[lover-of-mine]

Do you not count Ali as Buck choosing a relationship? He called her and asked her out on a date and initiated that relationship as far as I can remember?

Ali called him when he's having dinner with Maddie and Chim and later on the episode he says he's happy she called. Abby got his number and called him. Ali called him, he said no then agreed, Taylor sent him the drink the first time, then she kissed him the second, she also ran away and came back without him chasing after her and Natalia asked him out, and same as Taylor she left then came back without him chasing after her. He didn't start any of his relationships. It's why I'm so adamant on the way that buddie needs to start with Buck making a move because he needs to decide they are worth the chance on his own because Buck is famous for just going along with his love interests and whatever they want and the only way to not give the impression that Buck is just going along with a flow and ending up in a relationship with no idea how he got there is to have him start it. Because with the way he admires Eddie and the way Buck acts when he's afraid of people leaving him there's a doubt you can add to the relationship of "does Buck love Eddie or is he just afraid of losing Chris and him" if you don't handle the getting together part carefully. The easiest way to not have that is to have Buck say it.

[pasdetrois]

on the bachelor and resurrection

Thinking about how the concept of resurrection is touched upon in Daniil’s routes, and how the Marble Nest makes something of a mockery of it, casting him into the role of both resurrectionist and the resurrected. The man with an affinity for the living trapped in a cycle of communing with the dead..

+ the reminders that neither remaining nor returning shall constitute anything akin to a victory for him—just a trick mirror and, if you'll forgive the pun, a dead end

(p.s. the original marble nest line is a bit clearer in this connection, where the word for Sunday can also mean resurrection)

[capnseriouslycanadian]

“Another year in the books. Thanks for the memories Chicago. Hungry to get back to it” (via x)