#- threads

[magg0t-mess1ah]

Ummmm I think I need a haircut yall 😓😓😓 it’s starting to make me look like girl—

What do you think, @thirteen-hundred-secrets @richiethegreat any other tags! (I’m scared to tag some of my moots bc OBVIOUSLY what if they hate me 😔)

picrew chain time!! make yourself a cheeky little icon using this picrew, reblog & tag ur pals!! to start us off: @lightyaoigami @lightyakami @deelavis @dreamfilleddonuts @catboymettaton @vorareromantic @queer-omens-in-the-archives

[teathattast]

[edsrosetattoo]

This is the best idea in the history of film.

[its-funnytwittertweets]

[ashortstoryaboutlove]

And the best reply:

[Source 1] [Source 2]

Edited to add:

[Source]

[teathattast]

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Part of him did want to show Astrid his world. The other part of him was scared to. At least, scared to show her his pod. They didn't exactly like him all that much.

But, if they could find a way to get her there without them knowing she was human...it could work, at least long enough for her to get to see it. Then, he'd bring her home, back to the surface.

There was however the issue of the water pressure...

"I'll see what I can do. You've shown me so much here, I'd like to return the favor."

He leaned in again, closing his eyes, when a sudden shout caused him to pull away. His eyes widened at the old man's accusations, the merman at a loss for words as Astrid helped him get to his crutch.

Evil. Sea-devil. Creature.

It echoed in his mind, bringing back bad memories from his pod. His heart was racing, and he felt as though he couldn't get enough air.

Outside. He needed to get outside...

Using the crutch, he hurried out as fast as he could, with only Phlegma seeing him escape.

The door was left ajar as he continued on down the massive stairwell.

A spell. He'd never put a spell on Astrid, let alone drag her to the depths. That wasn't who he is! Even then, that wasn't how his magic worked. He knew he'd have to go back eventually, but that was to be temporary. Hiccup wanted to live among the humans, but if they would only see him as some trickster creature, could they ever truly accept him?

The sun was low, lower than he thought it would be. He had to get to water before moonrise, he knew that. But where? He still had to keep the end of his tail dry.

🐟

He didn't make it.

Hiccup had gotten the human clothes off, and just as he was about to climb into the wash basin, his tail returned, leaving him stuck in the grass.

Flopping over to his back, he let out a frustrated groan. "Why can't things ever be simple," he wondered aloud, hands in his hair and his eyes closed, "she's a human, and I'm a merman. I should have expected that it wouldn't be received all that well..."

Astrid, the best warrior on Berk. And Hiccup...the cowardly merman who ran at the first sign of trouble.

His hands lowered to cover his face. "She deserves better..."

"I'm not so sure about that," said a voice from above. Startled, Hiccup opened his eyes to find Phlegma standing above him. Her arms were crossed, a basket of banging on her arm. "Aye, you shouldn't have left. You missed quite the spectacle. But, Hiccup?"

She knelt down, looking him in the eye. "What my daughter deserves is someone who loves her, cherishes her. You may be part fish, but you fit that bill."

Hiccup shook his head, "She's a warrior. She shouldn't be with a coward."

Phlegma paused before motioning for him to give her his tail. He curled the end of it towards her, and she began to change the wrappings, "Hiccup. I get the feeling that something caused that reaction of yours. It wasn't just Mildew, but something else."

Hiccup didn't respond, averting his gaze.

"Hm. I thought so. Something also tells me that you can be quite brave when the situation calls for it. I don't know how you did it, but you befriended a dragon. That takes bravery, lad."

"You're both young. You both have a lot to learn. But don't be so hard on yourself, Hiccup. Even mermen deserve love, you know," she gave him a soft smile, tying the new wrappings after applying some salve.

"Astrid is inside, worried about you. I told her to let me speak with you first," she rested a hand on his shoulder, and he finally met her gaze. "You did nothing wrong, Hiccup. Mildew, he's just looking to cause trouble. He always has been that way. If you had stayed, you would have seen just about everyone come to your defense. Axel and Astrid were the most vocal."

Gathering the supplies, she got to her feet. "I'll send Astrid out to you. I'll see you in the morning, dear."

Without another word, she left, leaving Hiccup a bit speechless as he stretched his fins out.

A moment later, he heard hurried footsteps approaching. Looking over at his girlfriend, he said, "I, I'm so sorry I ran off like that, I can explain..."

After a long training session, all Astrid wanted to do was cool off on the beach. Maybe a tiny swim, even though the ocean was so cold at this time of year. She pushed through the brush and staggered down to the shore.

Only to find a boy lounging in the shallows.

“Oh!” She dropped her axe in the sand. From his bare torso, she assumed he was naked. “Sorry! I didn’t know someone else would be…here…” as the apologies flowed, she realized from the waist down, he had green scales and a pair of fins.

No wonder she hadn’t recognized him.

“No way…” she inched closer. “A real mermaid! In the flesh! Are the stories true?” She stamped down her overwhelming curiosity for a moment to give him a stern point. “Don’t try anything fishy, mermaid. I’m very capable of protecting myself, got it?”

((I saw the prompt and went feral, hope you don’t mind))

[X]

Hiccup started, the water around him splashing as he sat up straight in surprise, before he moved a little further back, his cheeks flushed.

"No, sorry, I, I shouldn't--" Ducking his head, the merman awkwardly held up a hand, "Usually no one comes here..."

But his movements only caused his tail to briefly break the surface, emerald scales glittering in the sun for a moment before dipping below the water again.

Firmly, he responded, "Merman. I am a merman. And no, don't worry, I, I wasn't going to try anything...I know you'd probably kill me if I did..."

Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his hair, which had partially dried in his time sitting in the shallow water. "What, what stories are you referring to?"

He knew, or at least had a gut feeling about what she was asking, but he wanted to hear it from her. She appeared wary, but not fearful. Maybe these humans didn't have the same fears of his kind like the others?

[the-occasional-mishap]

I was going to embroider a rose or something in the corner of this handkerchief, but then I realized I could do a wizard, so obviously I did a wizard.

[victusinveritas]

[troythecatfish]

[cherryblossms]

"i'm your good boy," garam repeated after angel, his tone much more needy than before. his thighs began to shake under the water as he tried to fight and hold off as long as he could. they'd only just begun, he didn't want things to end so quickly. but how was he supposed to push aside the physical pleasure when angel was saying exactly what drove him crazy? and now three fingers were inside of him, stretching him beyond what he thought his limits were. "don't stop," he whined, moving his free hand slowly up the length of his body. his let his fingers wrapping around his own throat, applying the smallest amount of pressure before raising his arm up higher until he found angel behind him. his fingers were quick to tangle in the hair at the back of his head. "i want you ," he begun, a little weary at first, "to use me as your own personal fuck toy, make a complete mess of me... don't stop fucking me even after i've finished, just keep going as long as you need to... i don't want to be able to move once you've exhausted me." almost every word meshed together as he spoke, already feeling like a babbling mess. he wasn't used to being so verbal about his own wants, at least not with the confidence alcohol provided him. oh, how he wished he'd had something to drink prior. maybe then he wouldn't feel so foolish trying to put his own desires into words. it all felt so contradictory because his wants were exactly how axel treated him when they were together but there were still differences. garam knew angel would treat him better, his wellbeing and needs would be taken into consideration, every choice he made would be dripping with love with angel. the main focus wasn't going to be angel's own satisfaction, he'd be concerned and aware of what garam wanted whereas axel only cared about reaching his own finish line. he didn't care what garam wanted, whether what he was doing felt good, if he was hitting him or biting him too hard. maybe that was his fault because he never expressed himself but how could he when, whenever he tried, axel would tear into him? "i can't—" he shook his head before dropping it back to rest on angel's chest again, then let it fall to the side, "you're going to make me cum." his grip on the edge of the tub released to let his hand sink back into the water. he quickly found angel's arm and took a hold of it but he didn't make any effort to stop the man from working his length nor his hole. instead, he held on to the man's forearm as if his life depended on it, as if this were some sort of glorious dream he'd wake up from if he didn't keep a hold of it tight enough.

Angel’s breath caught—just for a second. Not from lust, not from the heat curling in the water around them or the way Garam’s body reacted so beautifully to his touch, but from the words. From that voice. That whisper. I want you. Angel heard the tremble in it. The hesitation. But beneath it, certainty. Not loud, not bold but real. Honest. It was the kind of wanting that carried shame in its pockets because someone else had made it feel like a crime. Angel felt that ache stretch wide in his chest, pulling at the edges of his restraint. Not because Garam said yes. But because of why it sounded like an apology. His touch softened instinctively. His fingers didn’t stop, but they grew slower, more deliberate. Aiming for that sweet spot he hit that morning. Angel listening but those sweet moaned wouldn’t let his movement stop. Watching Garam fall apart and trying to hold himself together with words. Words that Angel didn’t let go unnoticed. Angel leaned forward again, lips brushing along his ear as he whispered, “You’re not.” He felt the tremor that rolled through Garam’s body, the way his breath hitched and his arm clutched the edge of the tub like it was the only thing anchoring him to the moment. But Angel didn’t stop, not his touch, not the steady presence of his body, pressed tightly against Garam’s back. The smaller was driving him crazy. Watching every flicker of pleasure cross Garam’s face made his own excitement twitch against his back. And then—Axel’s name wasn’t spoken, but Angel felt it in every broken confession. That asshole’s ghost was still lodged in Garam’s body like splinters. Angel could hear it in the way Garam’s words stumbled, trying to explain, to defend himself, even now. As if Angel might turn cruel too. As if love had to come with punishment. As if desire could only be a dirty thing. Angel’s jaw clenched. The hand working Garam’s length slowed down to watch the fingers. “You never have to prove yourself to me,” Angel said, voice thick with emotion. “I’m not him Garam. If you want me tell me.”He brushed his nose against Garam’s temple. Not kissing this time. Just breathing him in. Letting the closeness speak for what words couldn’t. “Tell me exactly how you want me to touch you, ” he murmured. “How long you want me to fuck you…” A pause as his fingers sped up and Angel nipped at his ear. “How deep” He kissed just below Garam’s ear slow and soft, as if trying to speak into the cracks. “You’re not dirty,” he whispered. “You’re not too much. You’re not some secret that should’ve been hidden away.” And then, gentler: “You are good. You’re my good boy.” I want more. Angel didn’t tease. Didn’t smirk. Angel slipped another finger into Garam as his hand sped back up. His finger worked his entrance, arching and spreading his digits. “You are doing so well baby. Just a little more and you will be ready for me.”

[willofasherah]

seeing everyone just mindlessly sign up for threads despite all the clear warning signs feels like I’m living in Sailor Moon or a magical girl anime episode where the Monster of the Day just set up shop over night and their product is literally draining your lifeforce for the Dark Kingdom but people keep going there

[political-us]

[ichxgo]

Shiro gives him that glare and Ichigo is dead certain he’d let him scoop his heart straight out of his chest and demolish it in the nearest kitchen appliance. And then he’s thinking about taking Shiro on the nearest kitchen appliance. 

He opens his mouth and then closes it. Caught out, except he wasn’t really trying to hide anything worth hiding. “Then it must’ve been the first thing. And I don’t fucking want to hear whether you’re alive or not from the news.” He slants Shiro a look. “Maybe you’re lucky I like you, since you’re such a hard sleeper.” That’s bullshit really, considering he just said he wants him alive, but he doesn’t like being told he isn’t supposed to be sneaking in and seeing him when he wants, and he realizes it’s because he’s done it so much he feels entitled. He makes a face. “You’re just mad I didn’t wake you up.”

“The point is it’s my fantasy. I get to have them sometimes.” Even if he’s not nearly as oversexed as Shiro. Though that’s not even true. He’s just as oversexed, he’s just pickier about who he’s oversexed with. But he snorts. “You’re the one that had a problem with it, not me. Go ahead.” 

Ichigo scowls, lips pressed. He’s not even that private, but he doesn’t want people going through his things. Especially his business shit. Especially people who already know what qualifies as his ‘important things’. 

He pushes a long, hard breath from his nose and mutters, “I hope they blow themselves up.” 

He picks at the plate, finding all that alcohol has turned his stomach. He forces it anyway. “Yeah, well. They’re mostly dead now.” It won’t stay that way. New people will filter up and it’ll all be thriving again as long as there’s a demand for what they sell. Trimming them continually would be a full time job all on its own. 

He huffs around his bite of food. If he had the guy in front of him, he could make it happen. But. Shiro is right. “A professional. An assassin. Someone who would kill him outright without getting caught.” Someone good, because there’s no way security isn’t tight. “Probably Yoruichi.” Fuck, she’s going to rob him blind.

Ok he kind of walked right into that. Maybe he's starting to feel his alcohol. He shoots Ichigo a withering look. "Business if you're not careful." As if he could threaten Ichigo and actually mean it. What a joke.

Yes he does know how Ichigo uses it. That's exactly what he's thinking about right now, but he keeps stuffing the thought back down. Ichigo would keel over if they tried to bang right now. "Thorough." He snorts, swirling the ice in his glass slowly. "You coulda just picked up the phone if you wanted to know I was still breathing. Hell. If I had died, it'd probably be all over the news." It's a poor excuse as far as he's concerned, so either it's true or it's just true enough to make him think it could be true so Ichigo can hide the real reason. That sounds like a conspiracy theory. Never mind. It's probably true. "Doesn't make it less weird. You're lucky I like you." He's kidding but also not.

He smirks into his glass when Ichigo agrees so readily, then snorts a laugh. "What's the point then? You know I can't keep my hands to myself. If we're having a threesome, I'm gonna be touching." Even if it was hypothetically his brother.

He nods, then reaches over to take his phone back. There's very few names or phone numbers saved into his phone, mostly he has his contacts memorized. He dials a number and the other end is picked up on the second ring. "My guest needs an overnight bag, run to his place and grab his things." He pauses, listening briefly. "Yeah, just the important things for now. And be discrete." Then he hangs up and puts his phone back on the table.

After Ichigo sets down his glass, Shiro knows that look well. He glances toward the bottle, but then rethinks refilling Ichigo's glass for him. He's had too little food and water, too much of god knows what pumped into his system to keep him down. He can make some educated guesses, but Ichigo's one of the very few people who's health he'd prefer not to gamble with.

The slight slur is amusing, kind of endearing even, but the words themselves sound too grave for the smirk to make it to his lips. He ignores the glass being pushed toward him and instead nudges Ichigo's place of leftovers closer to him. Briefly, recognition and an unhappy expression flinches through his expression when Ichigo name drops. The trouble he got himself into is starting to make more sense. He drops his elbow onto the table and leans his chin in his palm. "That specific group is a nasty bunch." There are few large scale, shady organizations that he doesn't know of, at least by word on the street.

He exhales a slow breath. "What a fuckin' mess." So much for suggesting that Ichigo lays low and waits for his shit storm to blow over. He doesn't have time for that with the threat to his old man. "You're in no shape to be goin' after anyone. Who would you be makin' a call to?"

[mysharona1987]

“Make my words.”

Well, I’m convinced.