pinkiipeachiikeen
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Was previously pansexualproblemchild, currently renovating everything, masterlist coming soon!
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shouto always facetimes you when he's wearing a suit even if he has nothing to actually say, so one afternoon when you answer his incoming call and are greeted by the sight of his buttoned-down and lapelled chest, your face immediately feels hot.
"shouto?" you ask, your voice infuriatingly flustered even though you had tried your very best to choke it back. "what's up?"
and then he tilts the camera back up to its usual position—a little too high, so really it's just the bridge of his nose, his eyes, and the top of his head left at the very bottom of the screen. and simply he goes: "i'm wearing a suit."
"i can see that," you reply, resisting the urge to drag your hand down your face—equal parts frustrated and horrifically endeared to your boyfriend's familiar antics. "is that the reason you called?"
"i know you like when i wear them so i wanted to call and show you."
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I know "60s housewives who invented slash fanfiction" has taken on a life of its own as a phrase, but Kirk/Spock didn't really exist until the 70s and THOSE WOMEN HAD JOBS. They were teachers and librarians and bookkeepers and scientists and they damn well spent their own money going to conventions, printing zines, buying fanart and making fandom happen. Put some respect on their names.
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You, a heroic paladin have successfully slain a fearsome dragon. But the dragon warns you that death is but a door, and dragons don’t die, they reincarnate. You paid it no mind….until your son was born with golden, slitted eyes.
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A fawn curled up beside a fake deer which is used for target practice.
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Not to be a Boomer but your social media should be your own space, not something employers are allowed to look at to judge you beyond the qualifications stated in your resume and cover letter
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v2 where the twin is / turned out like Jin due to various circumstances
I prefer this dynamic. I need and want only one Sukuna <3
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…feEL THE RAIN ON YOUR SKIN NO ONE ELSE CAN FEEL FOR YOU ONLY YOU CAN LET IT IN
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Guys. GUYS GUYS GUYS
THIS MOFO IS REAL?!?!
W H A T
I deadass thought The Panda Redd made him up wtf 😭😭😭😭
Idfk anymore man.
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I would kill to see a chubby lizard shoto
thinking about dragon shouto.
as a child you come across what you think is a weird fat lizard the size of a cat, playing in the fields just outside of your village. it's got a mesmerizing pattern of ruby red scales overlapping snowy white ones, and two little nubby horns at either side of its head.
it spends the afternoon napping on a sun-warmed rock nearby, blinking at you with strange, mismatched eyes whenever you come over to stare at it. you feed it some of the berries you'd gathered for your own snack, and it seems to like them, nosing around in your hand for more after it's finished them. when you leave, it curls its tail around itself and watches you go with a solemn stare.
you see it several more times out in the fields after that, always bringing it little treats—the crust of your morning bread, some cheese, a rainbow of berries from the bushes at the edge of the forest. it's patient when you prod it curiously, running your fingers over the strange little flaps on its back that look almost like they could unfold into wings. it seems to like when you do that, eyes falling closed, and you swear you hear it snuffle softly.
it skitters home with you then, and your family shits themselves when they realize you've dragged home a dragon. it's a toddler same as you, and a male as far as they can tell. but it's too late to get rid of him—dragons are notoriously possessive creatures, and any attempt made to separate you two is met with a flash of tiny fangs, a jet of fire, and a case of lizard stink eye so mean it's like he's trying to scald the flesh off of people with his stare alone.
and after that, you're his and he's yours.
you name him shouto—a person's name—because he seems so much like his own person, all his wants and needs communicated clearly. he goes with you everywhere until he becomes too large to fit into buildings, first reaching the size of a horse, then your family's thatched hut. by the time you reach your majority, he's the size of the smithy in the village center.
and then, not a few months after your own birthday, he comes into his majority, and with it, his full powers.
and that's how you find yourself confronted with over six feet of very naked, very handsome man—with split red-and-white hair, and two mismatched eyes, and an incredibly familiar possessiveness over you...
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contents: general bakugou x princess reader; 1.1k, fem reader. lowkey dedicated to the loml @ofmermaidstories even tho there's e2l undertones.
thinking about being a princess forced into a political marriage. your father is ailing and with no sons in his lineage, your country risks dissolution and open war if you do not marry.
already several of the more prominent families are forming factions; those with eligible sons are desperately trying to engineer opportunities for themselves, those without are amassing foot soldiers and weapons.
you cannot stand any of the pompous, greedy, egocentric princelings put forth by the noble families; men who care nothing for the country or its people, men with no thought for policy or justice—men who would gorge themselves on wine and women as the country crumbled at their feet.
even with a husband, there is no guarantee against a coup, not unless your husband is formidable enough to suppress one.
there is only one man you can stomach the thought of assuming the throne, one man with a head for strategy, a sense of duty, and a reputation strong enough to suppress the growing threat of political discord.
you find general bakugou katsuki in his quarters in the small hours of the morning, unable to sleep for your nerves.
"princess," he rasps, opening the door in nothing but his breeches. your face burns as you're confronted with the sight of a man's naked chest, miles of bare skin, golden in the glow of the torch lights.
"general," you say, resolutely raising your eyes to his face. there is no time to dance around the issue. "i need you to marry me."
bakugou's blonde hair is bed-rumpled, his manner sleep-soft, though his gaze is sharp. he watches you for a long moment before answering.
"'s an awful unromantic proposal," he says, an eyebrow raising.
despite his honorability, he's always had a way of grating on your nerves, and he knows it. you can't stop the reflexive scowl that paints your mouth, nor the irritability that seeps into your tone.
"i am being serious," you say, crossing your arms.
bakugou's eyes follow the movement. you are suddenly all too aware that you've marched through the castle halls in nothing but your night rail, too overcome with the thought of what must be done to pay the appropriate attention to your wardrobe.
"what, you lookin' to consummate it now?" he asks, gaze almost burning through the thin cotton of your shift.
your ears go hot. "can you stop being the most obnoxious man on earth for one moment."
bakugou leans an arm against his open door, bicep flexing with the movement. you try valiantly not to notice the way the shadows pool in the divots of his muscle, the way his trousers sit against the plane of his toned stomach.
"if you want me to say yes, you're gonna need to be a little nicer, princess," he says, mouth flicking into an awful little smirk.
"general—bakugou," you hiss. "do you want to watch the country you've spent years defending dissolve into nothing at the hands of these narcissistic, coddled fools?"
"rich words for a princess," bakugou says, his voice nearly a growl in the dim.
you are aware that you are sheltered as a royal. you are aware you are soft and naive. but you are educated, you are strong-willed, and you care. you may not be a son to your father, but you know you know have studied harder than any man on your father's court. you want to do your best for this country.
"do not mock me," you command.
bakugou's scarlet gaze trails over you, hot and liquid in the flickering torchlight.
"no? then what d'you want me to do to you?" he asks.
you fight down the furious flush of humiliation. "i want you," you repeat through gritted teeth, "to marry me."
bakugou's golden eyelashes dip as his gaze slides back over your crossed arms, then lower, all the way down to your bare toes. you feel horribly vulnerable under his scrutiny, even more knowing you are already at his mercy.
"you're serious," he rasps, eyes cutting back to yours.
"unfortunately," you grit out.
that draws another flicker of a smirk out of him. "and y'came running down here at midnight in your little nightdress because you were too scared you'd chicken out, is that it?"
that is absolutely it, and you hate that he knows it.
"will you marry me or not?" you demand, even your nose feeling hot now. "i don't know what my nightdress has to do with the question!"
"your nightdress is gonna have a lot to do with it if i say yes, angel," bakugou says.
you hate him. maybe it's better to just let the country fall to ruin, let some jumped up coalition of families amass power and overwhelm bakugou and his soldiers. with any luck maybe they will stab him.
you'll have to come up with another plan.
"fine," you hiss, turning on your heel. "message received."
but a hot hand closes on your arm before you can take another step, yanking you back to him. you stumble, barely catching yourself before bashing your nose into his chest.
"you know what you're asking for?" bakugou demands, leaning in to look into your face. "you know this wouldn't be easy."
"i know," you say begrudgingly. "but you are the country's best option—my best option. none of the men put forth are acceptable."
"don't like pretty boys, princess?" bakugou asks.
"you're plenty pretty," you bite out before you can think. horror overwhelms you when bakugou's smirk grows wider, a sharp white knife in the dark.
"think i'm pretty huh?" he says, his tone gloating.
"i think that you are awful and maybe i'd rather take my chances with a coup," you growl, trying to pry your arm from his grip.
but bakugou's hold tightens for a moment, and he leans down, close enough that his breath ghosts over the collar of your night rail.
"then if you're sure this is what you want, princess, you can have it," bakugou says. his thumb smoothes over the skin of your arm for just a moment, soft and feather light before he lets you go.
you step out of his reach, skin tingling, face flaming. there's no reason to delay, then. "fine, we're agreed. i'll see you in the morning. we'll announce it then."
you spin on your heel, bakugou's grunt of acceptance following you as turn back down the hall.
"see you in the morning, angel," he drawls, suddenly all agreement.
he may be the general between the two of you, but you know when it's time for a strategic retreat. you ignore his response and flee—your ears burning all the way to your chambers.
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THEY KEEP ASKING ME IF I WOULD DIE FOR THEM AND I KEEP ASKING WHY THEY WANT ME DEAD
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PRETTY BOY SPOTTED!!!!!!!
Nakahara Chuuya in Borne Back Ceaselessly into the Past
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It’s as they say. Gojo really do be everywhere but the manga
What in "Hell" is Bad?: Barachiel
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> mom spilled trace amount of curry powder on the floor
> cool ok ill sweep it up in a sec
> go to the bathroom, come back
> curry powder is suspiciously less
> cat is suspiciously yellow
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