#oh my god lmao touch GRASS

[dukeofdelirium]

“um actually 🤓☝🏻 Katara and Aang having a tiny age gap is inappropriate because children view the world differently and I know they’re fucking cartoon characters and don’t represent real life children & they can bend the elements at will via martial arts but ☝🏻🤓 age gap only good if everyone is 18”

[budugaapologist]

still dont see how so many people say that dawntrail is poorly written in comparison to other expansions like. what, did you realize you had to learn about a new culture and immediately not care anymore lmao? you've done it before, was this one not white enough for you?

genuinely i think more people should do side quests during msq so idk you can form a heart about the characters you're interacting with if you struggle with that and understand the land better so when impactful shit happens your illiterate ass can actually read and have empathy. theres no excuse for this.

if you can't handle storybuilding and character introductions from the expansion that feels like stormblood and shadowbringers had passionate gay sex that got one of them pregnant and birthed a beautiful daughter they both love and care about then idk what to tell you, maybe youre just lame and can't read. best of luck with that.

[nina-ya]

GOOD MORNING EVERYONE HAPPIEST OF TUESDAYS TO ALL OF YOU!!! I hope you all have a good day I’m sending kissies to all of you 💕💕💕

[telomirage]

"phrygian, text me back!" 😂😭😭

[risingsunresistance]

[marlinspirkhall]

🪩 Lewisa-watches-THG-2524 follow

District Ten's tribute doesn't deserve to win because she murdered both of district three's tributes at the cornucopia day one in cold blood

🥖 Bread-abs-circuses follow

It's. A death game. The point is literally to murder each other ☠️☠️☠️

🫐 not-president-coin follow

I can't believe some of you are still watching the fucking hunger games after everything that came out about the way they treat tributes in the Capitol after they win

🐦‍⬛ to-kill-a-mockingjay follow

... umm, if it took reading The Finnick Docket for you to realize the hunger games were bad there is NO HOPE for you

🦷 i-steal-teeth follow

why...?

🐦‍⬛ to-kill-a-mockingjay follow

23 children are literally murdered each year???????

🔲 71st-hunger-games-deactivated11082524

yeah but on average, 76% of the tributes signed up for tessera, so they knew what was coming

🗿 Colossus-of-snowdus follow

actually, the tessera statistic has been debunked several times.

❔ avox-anon-deactivated252014092520

You're missing the point, even if the tessera statistic was true then forcing children to sign up for something so they can eat is FUCKED

🗡️ THG-reject-2523 follow

Okay but some of us would literally LOVE to be in the hunger games. I'm from district 2 and I literally wasn't allowed to volunteer as tribute because they had too many volunteers. Not everyone is forced to participate in the hunger games, some of us literally train for it for years. Fighting in the hunger games is a privilege. Remember that.

🗿 Colossus-of-snowdus follow

putting the word privilege up on the banned words shelf until you learn what words mean...

🥖 Bread-abs-circuses follow

@THG-reject-2523 weren't you the tribute who bit the announcer on the ear two years ago ☠️ pretty sure that's why they banned you lmao

🫐 not-president-coin follow

We should be forcing the Capitol children to fight instead

🪩 Lewisa-watches-THG-2524 follow

Oh my god touch grass lmao

🫐 not-president-coin follow

I literally can't

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Wrong Chat?

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: None!

Genre: Best friends to lovers, flufffff, texts

Summary: Hyunjin, your best friend, drops you off for a coffee date with your colleague Mingyu. It's not a date at all, but Hyunjin thinks it is. And he rants in the wrong group chat - completely jealous and unhinged.

a/n: Wanted to make a Clueless series! Thoughts?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Hyunjin sighs dramatically as he flops onto the couch in his apartment. He's been pouting ever since he'd dropped you at the cafe where you're meeting Mingyu, your colleague for coffee.

Hyunjin: I’m actually losing my goddamn mind.

Hyunjin: She’s out with him. With. Him.

Felix: Hyunjin, it's just coffee.

Hyunjin: OF COURSE IT'S NOT JUST COFFEE, FELIX.

Chan: Oh no🙄

Minho: Here we go. Someone hold his leash.

Hyunjin: This is NOT good. Mingyu is - he’s like…

Jeongin: Are you okay bro?

Hyunjin: I AM NOT OKAY.

How is he supposed to be ok when you, the love of his life is out with some guy for "coffee"? Jisung had taken a girl out for coffee a few weeks ago, and now she's his girlfriend.

Hyunjin sighs. He couldn't think of you being anybody else's. You're his girl. And he's gonna win you over.

Meanwhile, you are sitting across from Mingyu, discreetly checking your phone as it buzzes repeatedly with notifications. You freeze when you see the texts. 

Oh, so this is why Hyunjin was in a bad mood the whole morning, you think. He barely said a word to you as he drove you to the cafe. 

Changbin: Dude, calm down. It’s just coffee.

Hyunjin: COFFEE LEADS TO DINNER, DINNER LEADS TO NETFLIX, AND NETFLIX LEADS TO YOU KNOW WHAT. ASK JISUNG.

Jisung: HYUNJIN.

Felix: 😳

Minho: Jisung you sly dog.

Chan: Hyunjin, touch some grass.

Hyunjin: I CAN’T, CHRISTOPHER. SHE IS MY GRASS.

Minho: Let it all out. Keep going.

Chan: Hyunjin. Deep breaths. IN through your nose, OUT through your mouth. 

Hyunjin: I SWEAR TO GOD IF HE LAYS A FINGER ON HER

Changbin: I don't think he's laying anything on her. 

Felix: Okay, Hyun, you need a time-out.

Hyunjin: No, what I NEED is for Mingyu to trip over his stupid perfect legs and fall face-first into a compost bin.

Mingyu smiles at you across the table, gesturing towards his laptop as he speaks. You are trying so hard to focus on the ideas he's laying down in front of you - the startup ideas that you two have been talking about forever. You smile back, nodding, while trying not to choke on your laughter.

Jisung: Stupid perfect legs? Hyunjin, why do you even know what Mingyu’s legs look like?

Hyunjin: Because I have eyes, Ji. I pay attention to the threat level.

Hyunjin: He's like 6 feet tall.

Jeongin: Threat level: Sexy. 

Hyunjin: THANK YOU, JEONGIN. No one asked you.

Chan: You're tall enough

Hyunjin: Not enough apparently

Felix: Hyunjin, calm down.

Hyunjin: No, because LISTEN. Who does he even think he is. Asking my girl out. How dare he. 

Hyunjin: SHE’S OUT THERE WITH HIM WHILE I’M JUST

Changbin: Lonely and deranged?

Hyunjin: EXACTLY.

Seungmin: Someone hose him down 

You are trying to concentrate on the graph Mingyu is pointing to now, but seriously, who are you even kidding. Your cheeks are warming up with the second-hand embarrassment from what's brewing on the group chat.

Hyunjin: And do you know what really sucks? She’s probably looking AMAZING right now. Like, how does she do that? How does she leave the house and make everyone fall in love with her?!

Hyunjin: And doesn't even realize that I love her? She obviously doesn't! Like I'm right here.

Jisung: Why don't you just corner her in the supply closet?? Omg I never thought I'd get a chance to give that back to you 🔪

Hyunjin: Bro. She's my best friend. It isn't the same.

Jisung: Excuses excuses

Felix: Oh SHIT. 

Felix: 🚨 STOP 🚨

Jeongin: Wait, what chat is this 👀

Hyunjin: What do you mean what chat?

---

Hyunjin goes quiet for a second.

---

Hyunjin: Wait.

Hyunjin: WHAT CHAT IS THIS???

Chan: You absolute clown.

Felix: I tried. 

Minho: LMAO

You: Hyunjin.

Hyunjin: Y/N. Baby. Light of my life.

Y/N: Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re picking me up in 20 minutes. And we're gonna talk.

Hyunjin: Ok. Yes. Ok.

---

Hyunjin was still typing and you were about done with this. 

---

Y/N: Baby. Stop typing. 

Hyunjin: Shutting up now.

Changbin: She really did put a leash on him.

Felix: This is why I love her 😁

Y/N: And Hyunjin?

Hyunjin: Yes, angel?

Y/N: I love you too. 

Hyunjin: 😳😳😳😳

Hyunjin’s heart literally stops when he reads your text. You love him back. You love him back!!! He feels faint, his hands are shaky and he just needs to see you. Right now. 

Hyunjin: Picking you up now.

Y/N: Ok baby.

---

And finally, it was all calm again.

---

Chan: Well, at least we get a little peace and quiet now.

---

As you step outside, you spotted Hyunjin’s car pulling up, his face twisted in a mix of nervousness  and relief. His gaze immediately locks onto Mingyu, who waves goodbye. Hyunjin behaves just so that he can show you that he can be a good boy when he needs to.

You grin as you get into the car, and pull on the seat belt. When you look up at him, he's watching you eagerly, well he does look a little scared - like a child waiting to be scolded for doing something wrong.

“You ok, Jinnie?” You ask.

“Perfect. I'm perfect.”

You raise an eyebrow, fully aware of the effect you have on him.

“Is that so?” you purr, and Hyunjin gulps, as he nods.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking away. 

“You know,” you said with a sly smile, “if you had said something sooner, we wouldn’t have had to go through all this.”

Hyunjin’s face turns a sweet pink, and he can't help but smile a little.

“Can you say it again?” He asks. 

“Say what?”

“That you love me?”

You feel your own cheeks heating up as you your eyes meet. 

“I love you, Hyunjinnie. I have for as long as I can remember.” You whisper, and Hyunjin's head falls onto the steering wheel as he does his best not to scream out in joy. 

You giggle at his reaction and he looks at you again.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks shyly. 

“Yes please,” You say and that's that.

---

Hyunjin: Guess what, losers?

Hyunjin: WE KISSED.

Chan: Wow. Congratulations?

Minho: Was it a pity kiss? Be honest.

Changbin: I'm sure she did it to shut you up.

Hyunjin: It was magical.

Hyunjin: She looked at me, leaned in, and BAM. Fireworks.

Hyunjin: It’s what poets write about.

Jeongin: Or she just felt bad for you.

Hyunjin: NO.

Felix: Seriously, if you keep this up, she’s gonna see this and run the other way.

Hyunjin: She won't!

Y/N: Hyunjin.

Y/N: GET OFF YOUR PHONE.

Hyunjin: Ok bye.

Chan: Jokes aside, we're happy for you both.

Jisung: Of course we are

Minho: Y/N, sweetheart, get your man a collar

Y/N: Noted.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun

[algae-tm]

KILL BILL P.6

Charles Leclerc x famous singer! reader

Warnings : morally grey reader, toxic exes

Author’s note : There are so many x readers where the reader doesn’t do anything wrong, which I love don’t get me wrong but I wanted to write one where she’s a bit flawed. And obvs I cannot hate her cause she’s just in love and this is lossely (very loosely) based around real life events y’all so I get it! And also I love Alex 😭 I was gunna make her the villain but I literally can’t! So this is going a bit of a diff direction, in terms of ending. - Algae 🌱

•••••

INSTAGRAM

y/bff/n

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 678,798 others

y/bff/n : talking about boys over brunch? (tagged : yourusername)

yourusername : feels like I’m 18 again

— user3 : holdup when did y/n and Charles get together?

— user4 : she was 18 and he was 19/20…

— user5 : lmao that’s why he’s got her wrapped round his finger… poor baby hasn’t known any better

— user7 : not you guys acting like Charles groomed her be so serious! they have a 1 and a half year age gap touch grass.

— user9 : you can’t argue with people like this, they’re so chronically online!

— user4 : so how did they meet?

— user19 : google is free!

— user6 : her and Lewis did a fashion campaign when she was 16, and he sort of took her under his wing, cause I think her parents were a bit... I believe she then met Charles when she came to watch a race and watched the f2 race as well.

user1 : y/n telling you about how she’s a slut?

— y/bff/n : only ever having been with 1 man equals slut?

— user1 : going after a man with a girlfriend surely does.

lewishamilton : we love to see it

— y/bff/n : we sure do 😍

— yourusername : not you guys acting like I was dead in a ditch…

— y/bff/n : you were in man purgatory, it’s basically the same thing.

user11 : does Oscar know y/bff/n?

— user12 : No why?

— user11 : cause bros lurking in the comments

— user1 : lmao you think the skank’s gunna go for him next? (user1 has been blocked)

— user13 : @oscarpiatri trust you do not know how to handle @yourusename

— user11: poor baby she’d eat him alive

user13 : oh to be a fly on the wall for the Charles convo

user14 : trust it was hours long

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 10,987,843 others

yourusername : boys are awful and grotesque. i had to decompress on an island to get the crazy out of my brain. it’s a good thing mics are portable. Thank you Ephraim! My concierge for finding me a keyboard so I could get you guys this song that entered my brain almost two weeks ago and refused to leave. It’s a good teaser for my album, which is out in TWO days. so without further ado hope y’all like The Weekend!! if you don’t like it I’ll cry.

lewishamilton : oh this gives context to the unhinged messages you sent me at 1 am

— yourusername : I’m an artist, it’s my creative process

— lewishamilton : well this is way more constructive than turning up in Monaco

— user5 : oop- not you clocked by Lewis Hamilton of all people

— user7 : well I’m happy that Lewis doesn’t condone the behaviour of a slag

— user8 : lmao even her friends are getting tired of her

— user9 I think y’all are forgetting that they were together for six years, it was y/n’s first relationship, he dumps her out of the blue gets a new girlfriend within months. I for one would also go a bit crazy and need to be secluded on an island! Too bad I don’t have island money lmao

lewishamilton : I’ve been listening non stop! You truly out did yourself kid 🖤

y/bff/n : thank god you are not in Canada rn

y/bff/n : i was having a heart attack!

y/bff/n : you need to tell me before you travel across the world! We cannot have a repeat of last time.

— yourusername : have I really traumatised you that badly?

——y/bff/name : yes

—— lewishamilton : yes

—— yoursiblinguser : yes

—— friend1 : yes

—— danielricciardo: yes

—— oscarpiastri : yes

——yourusername : now hang on @oscarpiatri I don’t even know you!

— — oscarpiastri : wanna change that?

——- user11 : not you going after your dad’s ex

——-user14 : about to be a messy family reunion

——-danielricciardo : check that Aussie charm 🇦🇺

user7 : okay someone please talk about the lyrics????? Right off the bat it’s unhinged?? “WHY YOU WANT ME WHEN YOUVE GOT A GIRL??!” No cause that is so true like @charles_leclerc why are you still contacting her when Alex is right there?? (Liked by yourusername)

— user8 : ‘knowing it’s selfish, knowing I’m desperate’ oh she’s DOWN BAD!!

— user7 : you get it… cause DESPERATE, you’re describing yourself as desperate?? Bad bitch down in aisle 4 I fear!

user9 : lmao no cause you’ve outdone yourself! What do you mean ‘my man is my man, is your man. Heard that’s her man too’

— user21 : no cause she really is not a serious individual 😂

— user10 : the song is a bop don’t get me wrong but am I the only one who’s thinking about Alex in all this??

— user11 : poor girl hasn’t done anything apart from like a serial monogamist…

— user12 : I mean after this release Alex just needs to count her losses and leave him (liked by alexandrasaintmleux)

— user13 : oop- not her liking… clock it! But at this point I think this is just a messy situation where everyone’s gunna lose. Especially Alex poor girl never stood a chance

user22 : I just keep him satisfied through the weekend!

— user23 : you’re like 9 to 5 I’m the weekend!!!!

— user24 : make him lose his mind every weekend!!!!

sza : please god never let me be this down bad over a man 🙏🏾

— yourusername : now I know you’re not the one talking 🤨

badgalriri : 🖤

donatella_versace : DONATELLA VERSACE 💜

user17 : release the album NOW!

user18 : I’m sorry but weren’t we just mad at her? Releasing a song doesn’t make you automatically in the right? In fact even the song paints her as a bit of a villain :( I can’t imagine poor Alex listening to it.

— user19 : right? She’s practically begging him to cheat with her

— user15 : i really don’t know how to feel about the whole situation but it’s definitely not a good feeling…

••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee @callsignwidow

[mod-jazzy]

I was asked so! Here are my silly lil prompts for my personal month challenge thing!!!

NOTE: This is not a official thing or what have you, I was just asked to share the prompts for my lil self challenge, so I am! This is my own personal little challenge because I've had these prompts since 2019 and I want to use them

I'll put under a readmore because it is... like. 30 things lmao

Day 1: First Askblog OC The first blog OC you made! Day 2: Most recent askblog OC Can be a side or main character, just the most recent OC you've made for a blog! Day 3: The Modsona Draw your modsona! Self love n all that Day 4: Redraw a silly/funny askblog panel Find a old silly/funny or shitpost panel from one of your blogs and redraw it! Day 5: Evolution scene Draw your OC evolving! Can be past event, future event or something that already happened for a silly redraw! Day 6: Blog Swap Draw one of your blog OCs as a character on one of your other blogs! If don't have more than one blog, switch up their role with someone else on your current blog! Day 7: Favoritism wins Draw your absolute favorite OC from your blog! Indulge a little Day 8: "Nothing bad happens" What would your OC look like if their plot had nothing bad happen Day 9: Redraw a sad panel Redraw a old sad panel! Last prompt was too cheery, redraw that angst with your updated abilities! Day 10: Favorite Magic Anon Blast from the past, relive that glorious magic anon Day 11: Easiest OC to draw Draw that easy fellow, relax a little! Day 12: Difficult OC to draw Back on that grind, draw that one guy who is the absolute most difficult for you!! Day 13: Redraw your least favorite panel We all have that one panel that just, didn't come out right. Try again! Maybe it'll be nice to see your improvement.. or maybe you'll hate it again. Anyways, chop chop Day 14: Injury Draw that dramatic/important injury your character went through. Past, present or future! Day 15: Beach episode What it says on the tin, we love a filler episode. Can be plot relevant but hey, they deserve to relax too Day 16: Favorite blog Draw some fan art for your favorite blogger! Whether they are a friend, inspiration or what have you! Extra challenge: redraw some old fan art you did for them Day 17: Plot Changer That one moment... the thing that made everything twist. That really hit a hard turn in your storyline! Can be past, present or possible future! Day 18: Scrapped Idea What was that scrapped concept again? Or was it a character.. or even something as silly as a slight design change? Day 19: What's a God to a Blogger Most of us have that one god. That one important guy in the sky... or the ocean.. or under a truck... man pokemon is weird. Day 20: Canon Compliant Stylization is so interesting and unique!... but strip that away. Be close to pokemon canon. Day 21: Shiny Beam A easy one... make that little guy shiny!!... Oh they are already shiny?... well then undo that. Silly. Day 22: Dream interaction What's a interaction with your characters that you would really love to see or are excited for? Can be within your own storyline or a interaction with someone else Day 23: Real World Sighting Draw your OC(s) in a real life photo! Bonus points if its a photo you took. Take this chance to go for a nice walk and take some pretty pictures!.... touch grass. Day 24: A spoiler that.. wouldn't make sense to others That's right. Be vague. Spoil a little bit in the most vague manner. It's always fun to see others speculate. Day 25: In blog ship Draw your favorite ship within your own blog! Friendship/romantic ship/hate ship... Just whatever one makes you smile Day 26: Out of blog ship Same prompt as 25.. But with your OC and someone ELSE'S! again, friendship/romantic ship/etc etc! Day 27: Different Art Medium! That's right. Draw/sculpt/etc your OC in a different art medium than normal. This will either be fun or horrifying for you Day 28: The Inspiration VS the OC Draw your OC with their inspiration! Can be the storyline that inspired them... or the character that desired them! Etc etc Day 29: Song drawing Yeah that's right. Draw your OC/Blog with the song that you associate them with! As a treat Day 30: Redraw first blog post / Thank you Cliche ending alert!! Redraw your first ever askblog panel you have ever made. Not the first post on a more recent blog.. no. THE FIRST ONE. EVER. Or be corny and draw a heartfelt thank you to all of your friends and followers you made Or hell.. maybe even both

[sapphicdib]

Iterator yapping?

Okay I personally enjoy on-the-string iterators because I like the things ppl come up with to get around the isolation being an immobile building brings, not to mention I deadass don’t think their puppets have enough strength in their bodies to actually lift themselves if they aren’t in anti-grav. Them legs are NOT made for walkin. HOWEVER I do think off-the-string shit is still interesting. Like Moon canonically is off-the-string, but she’s still bound to her structure via the mechanical arm, which I feel like still gives her at least some awareness of the rest of her body. But losing all that? Compressing an entire iterator into the tiny, tiny doll at the heart of its structure? I can only imagine what kinda shit that does to them.

Tbh if iterators did figure out how to de-string themselves, it would be a massive sacrifice. I could honestly see some reacting to the idea the same way as they’d react to Sig and Pebbles’ whole plan in the rot au, like “wtf do you mean get out of your can, you ARE your can!” You’re basically chopping off your arm and asking it to continue moving. You’re losing a huge part of yourself, is it even you anymore? (Ironically, Rot Au Sig is very content being on-the-string, simply wanting freedom in the form of free will rather than mobility). Like, the toss up between touching grass vs keeping your memories, yeesh.

The other thing too: Moon’s structure continues to… “live” even once her puppet is ascended. The gravity fluctuations happen still, hell, pieces of Pebbles’ structure still produce heat and appear to be working (term used VERY loosely) despite the fact his puppet and consciousness are on the brink of death. So does that mean if you de-stringed an iterator, would their structure be a separate entity? Does the puppet just carry the personality and mannerisms, or does the processing strata have some say in it? Does an abandoned structure still iterate and ponder despite its communication organ being removed, leaving it silenced? I might just be completely shooting in the dark here, but it always left a bad feeling in my stomach when Pebbles and Moon were ascended and yet their structures still continued to act as they always had.

God iterators are fucked. Anyways! Off the string aus are based and cool but I wish people would lean into the whole “bro you basically lobotomized yourself” angle of it, at least a little. ALSO i feel like every so often they’d would freak the fuck out because OPEN AIR THIS IS NOT WHERE WE ARE MEANT TO BE— before the like, 7 neurons they carry around manage to process “oh, right, we’re fine.”

(also i’m using tupperbot here i do NOT fuck w stupid ai character shit) but bonus sig opinions on things:

my god is the dude bad at wording things, LMAO)

[gayfanservice]

could i please get anything with submissive!gale? thank you!!!

Tried to romance him and got rejected twice lmao

WARNING: 18+, hand job/fingering, no sex, takes place in the shadow curse/act 2

*********

The grass crinkled under your shoes, soft steps taking you towards a small clearing. The sky had turned, no longer the disgusting, murky black, but filled with lights, dancing together in a serenade. It was beautiful. Blues to purples with a little bit of green consumed the air, blocking out the dark sky. You almost forgot about the curse with the beautiful display above you, how it illuminated everything, bringing the dead plants to life with every flutter of movement. Your eyes trailed down to the culprit of the beautiful display, heart fluttering as as they landed on Gale. His hands mindlessly moved, slow but fluid motions.

The light from both his wandering hands and the sky shone around him, engulfing him like a blanket made from heaven. Glowing. A stunning, glowing angel, all for you.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the fast beating of your heart, and continued forward into the clearing. Gale turned with a smile, albeit a little startled, “Oh, you came!” He had an undertone of nervousness evident in his voice. This wasn’t the first time you two snuck out in the middle of the night, but every time always gave you the same feelings: nervousness, excitement, admiration, thrill. This certainly won’t be your last time sneaking away from camp.

You sat down on the oddly colored grass, unable to tell what color it should be, and leaned your weight onto your hands, your hand dangerously close to Gale’s no-longer moving hand. You felt him shiver. Small, but noticeable. “I just love this time of night.” You both stared into the faux sky, watching as the colors continued their dance. You could feel his hand twitch next to yours, small movements of yearning, begging to be let out. That’s what he said the first time you found him here, “I just love this time of night”, and you didn’t disagree. He always put on such a magnificent show when it was it’s darkest hour.

Your hand found his, clasping it and bringing it to your lips, giving a soft kiss to his knuckles. His breath staggered, grip tightening ever-so slightly. No matter how many times you show affection, it always sets his heart ablaze. The good kind, of course.

Gods, you’re beautiful.

You moved to your knees, un-occupied hand softly cupping his face. His dorky smile spread across his face, eyes crinkling as blood rushed into his face. No matter what you say, words could never express how beautiful Gale was. They would never do justice for what you feel. Unworthy words for such a worthy man. You were down bad for this man.

You leaned in, taking his lips in your own, hand traveling across his casual attire, ruffling it up, with the other caressing his face.

So, so beautiful, my darling.

Gale broke the kiss, his smile too wide for his lips to properly kiss, “Gods, what did I do to deserve you?”

Get kidnapped, duh.

He laughed, the melody melting your heart as he bent his head, hiding his flushed face. “How could I forget?” You chuckled, cheeks hurting from smiling for so long.

You leaned into him, kissing his face wherever you could reach, slowly pushing him down until his back hit the grass, “You are doing my laundry after this, right?” He chuckled to himself as you sighed, nodding your head and rolling your eyes in a mocking manner. You dipped your head again, kissing the tattoo-scar thing on his neck, feeling him swallow, shaking in excitement. Your hands lowered under Gale’s tunic, feeling the soft, hairy flesh underneath, pushing the fabric up and over his chest and exposing his skin to the wild. Straddling him, you bent at an awkward angle, leaving kisses on his happy-trail to his nipples.

Gale took in a sharp breath, arching ever-so slightly as your tongue twirled, a hand massaging the other.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, panting, silently begging for you to touch him more. His pants were tight, uncomfortable, his dick pressing hard against the garments. You separated from his nipple, tugging at Gale’s shirt until he hastily tore it off his body. You unbuckled his belt, moving it just enough for his dick to pop out. Your hand wrapped around it, slowly, agonizingly slow, pumping his cock while his face contorted in pleasure. Gale’s breathing became heavier, eyebrows forward as tightly as they could and eyes shut tight. “Fuck, faster, please,” he whined. Sweat traveled across his skin, dampening his hair and beard.

The sky was back to it’s ugly nature, Gale no longer able to concentrate on anything but your hand on his cock.

Patience, Gale, or I’ll go back to bed and leave you to tend to yourself.

You both knew you wouldn’t, but Gale wouldn’t push his luck. Instead, he laid there, hips and muscles twitching as your hand slowly moved.

You suddenly stopped, silently snickering at Gale’s noise of complaint, a whine in his voice as he pouted at the lack of attention, and gripped his pants. The two of you awkwardly shimmied his bottom garments off, throwing them wherever behind you and grabbing a jar of grease that sat beside Gale. Where it came from you did not know, it was not there when you first came, but you were not about to stop what you were doing to ask a wizard where something came from.

Gale felt so exposed. The cool air causing him to shiver every few minutes, cooling him off from the intense heat his body felt because of you. How you poured the slippery liquid onto both of your hands, lathering up his dick and massaging his asshole. It wasn’t rough, nothing you ever did to him was. You made sure to make him feel good; to feel secure. To make sure he knew you cared. Gods, not even Mystra could compare to how gentle and loving you handled him. Never forcing him to do anything he didn’t want, not telling him to kill himself so nothing threatens you, and actively trying to deter him from killing himself for Mystra’s forgiveness.

Gale’s thought process short-circuited as he felt a wet finger enter his ass, an equally wet hand returning to his attention-seeking cock stroking faster than before. His back arched high, legs bending instinctively as he let out a moan, high and loud. He felt embarrassment rise in his chest, covering his face as you let out a snort.

Careful, if someone hears you they might wanna join. And I’m not sharing.

“Oh, shut up.” Gale groaned, silently praying to whatever god of luck that existed to not let anyone hear the noise that left him. He shuddered, your hands still moving, up and down and in and out. His arms relaxed, falling to the ground above his head. Such simple touches but such extreme pleasures.

Another finger entered, both prodding around until they find that sweet spot. You watched Gale, face scrunched and letting sinful noises leave his open mouth.

“Please, just a little- fuck!” Gale tensed, head thrown back and pushing against your fingers inside him. His legs bent, spreading as your fingers grind against his prostate, thighs shaking and breathing growing heavier. You kissed down his thigh and up his stomach, hands keeping a steady pace as you continued up his sternum. Gale’s hands gripped your shoulders, crinkling your shirt as he let out sweet moans into the night air.

You stopped, again, and straightened your back, taking in the view of Gale completely fucked; his hair was everywhere, his body was glistening with sweat, cock hard and red, muscles twitching and quivering. It was delicious. Gale whined, “Why… why did you stop?” He was breathless, heart pounding in his chest and a dull ach in his dick.

Just thinking how lucky I am to see you so fucked out, y’know?

“Oh my gods, will you please shut up?” He smiled through his fingers, covering his face once again as he groaned, hearing you quietly laugh to yourself. Gale pulled you towards him, silencing you with a kiss. You moved against each other, bathing in each other. Gale exhale against your lips, his breath shaking.

“Please, please just- just let me cum,” Gale bucked his hips into your hand, desperately trying to get himself off.

I don’t know, Gale, do you deserve to?

You snickered as he whined, hands in a complete stop as he fucked himself. “Please, please,” He continued whining, begging for relief, for anything to get him to his climax. He was such a beautiful sight.

Gale’s had enough teasing, it seems.

Your hand stroked fast, the pre-cum and grease squelching. “Fuck!” His head was thrown back, entire body shivering as ripples of pleasure tore through his body. His muscles tensed and un-tensed, hands gripping the grass below him, ripping out strands. The hot pool in his abdomen grew hotter, the pleasure ripping through him like a tidal wave.

Gale let out a groan as cum shot out of his cock, body spasming as you stroked him through his orgasm.

His breathing was heavy, sweat poured down his forehead and covered his body, making him glisten in the moonlight. You removed your hands from him, awkwardly holding them away from you as you watched Gale.

Good?

“Good,” Gale said with a satisfied smile.

*********

Do NOT follow if you use she/her pronouns

Read the rules before following

[purpdrawsthings]

Dances around

OH GOD HE'S BACK

Oh god, it seems that this silly right here made me go crazy and doodle him, goddamnit I thought I got rid of you guhhhh /silly

I hate how you made him so illegally fun to draw @strange0-0storm 😔😔😔😔 /silly

Idfk what got me the energy to literally fill in one whole ass page and just doodle this man in lmao 😭😭😭

Sooooo for your viewing pleasure... Let's take a look at some silly doodles yayyyy =D

Gosh dang evil SMG8 my beloved

HE'S SO MENACING YET SO SHAIAHOSJSOSJSOJDOSHS

Chat why does he have so many bitches 😔

TS8 MY BELOVED I LOVE YOU AHHHHHHHHHHHH

I bet you wanted this @tiredsmashbros 💥

AASHSKAJSIJSOSJAOAJ HIS PARTNER HOW COULD I FORGET

Angy SMG8 content cuz yess 💜💜💜

He got his ass whooped chat oh mah gah 😔

Anyways yeahhhhhh that's about all of the SMG8 food I got for today 👍

ENJOY IT WHILE YOU CAN 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

I'mma go touch grass now /jk

[rayshippouuchiha]

Ray I'm having so much fucking fun you have no idea

So, like, a couple of days ago, before the new JJK leaks came out, I commented on a JJK tiktok vid on how I ship SukuIta, and the leaks came out something like later that same day? I posted the comment in the morning and by the end of the day (in my timezone) there were people talking about the leaks

This, of course, has brought a couple of people to answer to my comment with how disgusting it is to ship SukuIta, which, for the record, I still ship despite what we found out in the newest chapter (not saying to avoid spoilers)

And I kept replying to these people because it's funny to see them get so worked up about some fictional people getting shipped together and I needed to get a laugh, and just now I got one that was like "go to a therapist blah blah blah" classic stuff, you know? And I was like, "why don't you go touch grass instead of getting mad about fictional people" and their reply was like, "ah so if I ship an 80 y/o with a baby born 5 minutes ago it's ok if it's fictional" and I don't know why but it made me howl with laughter

Like! How do you even go there with your mind! Lmao they're so damn funny, I'm not even doing anything (just mild answers like, "Idk bro if it's fictional and it's not hurting anyone then whatever floats your boat Ig") and they're just riling themselves up constantly, it's so fucking funny to me

Oh god those same old arguments, I know them well. And yeah antis can be absolutely fucking wild with how dedicated they are to being upset over some shit that doesn't actually impact anyone.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

https://www.tumblr.com/fandomfluffandfuck/730300426715561984/oh-my-god-that-sports-jersey-and-garter-and?source=share

Do elaborate, sir 👀👀👀

related to this older ask answer

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Oh, god, yeah, I would love nothing more than to elaborate. I forgot about that idea that we (mostly @sail-not-drift, but I was there, too, lol) floated around, so thank you so much for reminding me. Quaterback by day, slavering team whore by night Steve scrambles my brain, though, so I'm not sure anything that comes out will be fucking coherent, lmao. There's really something about the peak masculinity, pure testosterone, homoeroticism of college football quarterback Steve taking it like a champ that really gets to me. I mean... 😮‍💨😮‍💨

So, here's some more mush-brain thoughts:

It doesn't end when Steve, Bucky, and the rest of the team leave the private, charged space of the locker room away from prying eyes. How could it? Steve walks around looking like that. His looks--all soft, pretty face and hard, rough body--don't fade the moment he steps beyond the threshold of the locker rooms. So, there's no fucking way. And, fuck, he doesn't just walk, he hustles to classes like that, he studies like that, he plays games like that, he practices like that, and, most pornographically, he runs like that. All. the. fucking. time.

So, it's only natural that the boys on their team are on him like hunting dogs on the fresh scent of a raccoon outside the locker room.

At practice, they're running sprint drills, and the sight of Steve launching himself back and forth across the field, going all out pumping his arms and legs, then crouching to touch the white lines painted into the grass before popping back up and taking off again is too much. The immediate moment coach isn't paying too close of attention or wanders off to talk with admin more privately about game ticket sales or whatever the fuck, the howls and bites start.

They're dogs.

Piling onto him, wolf-whistling at him, making lewd comments and gestures, and smacking his thick obliques and broad shoulders and, yeah, those big fucking tits.

He has fucking jiggle physics.

It's distracting, okay?

He's jiggling and wobbling all over the field, his tight dri-fit t-shirt ringed with sweat under the collar, around his pits, and in a line between his pecs. It's unreal. How does anyone just look like that? Flushed a healthy pink, grunting with effort, and sculpted like a young Greek god.

Shit.

And a damn crying shame that when they're playing games that those tits are hidden underneath all his bulky padding--if only everyone watching knew what they were missing. If only everyone, not just his boyfriend and his loyal team, knew what he was hiding under there.

Goddamn.

You know what-?

Maybe they outta show everyone. And then, when that dirty fantasy crosses their minds, the crowd of sweaty, handsy men high on the exertion of a good workout, loose and feeling good, all look towards Bucky, knowing that he's really the one directing this operation. How about it? Should everyone know?

Steve accordingly pouts at Bucky--Steve just a sweet little seal helpless and barely treading water as surrounded by sharks--playfully trying to get Bucky to make them stop and lay off him so he can go back to his workout. He's whining performatively.

Bucky doesn't call off the dogs. He blows the whistle instead, encouraging the rowdy behavior, pushing off the side of the stadium with his shoulder as he finishes gulping down some cool water. A drop of it clings enticingly to his shapely bottom lip, as he suggests with the quirk of a predatory eyebrow that, yeah, maybe they should. And, you know what, Halloween is coming up. Maybe it's time they show off what Steve really is. Star quaterback, sure, that's one word for it, the G.O.A.T is another, and allstar, too.

But... Bucky gets that dangerous look in his eyes, the one that makes Steve weak at the knees, knowing he's fucking in for it now. And instinctively, he sways more into the hands all over him, squeezing at his sore muscles, needing support for the rising fever.

Also, he's the college's cash cow, isn't he? Maybe it's time he lives up to the name. They may as well pop him into a little cow print bikini for the holiday. His tiddies would look good in an itty bitty bikini top, don't you think?

And a cash cow with tits like Steve has..? They're gonna be milking him for a while.

Suddenly, practice ends up being cut short without coach supervision on account of everyone desperately needing to test a theory: can cash cow Steve cum from just having his nipples and tits tortured, no below-the-belt stimulation whatsoever? They need an answer.

And they're gonna fucking kill Steve through sheer embarrassment and pleasure, he swears it. He's gonna drop dead on the field one day. Every day that he shows up to practice is another step toward that occasion. Today, there is no exception with Steve's weak knees leaving him with no choice but to be hauled off the field by too many hands to count, all of them wanting a piece of him, carrying him away like a flood-swollen river, the current too strong to fight.

The answer turns out to be yes. Yes, Steve can cum from just having his poor tits abused, leaving his hard, hard nipples swollen and red and the smooth, milky white skin of his plump pecs bruised badly. He'll be biting his lip every time he uses his arms or flexes his chest for days.

And start a fucking petition for Steve's tits because the torture of them doesn't stop there...

It's on that exactly fucking occasion where the only thing going down is messing with those perky tits and deliciously pink nipples that the entire fucking team discovers how gorgeous Steve's face looks when in that particular flavor of agony. Pressed between a rock and a hard place, crumbling apart.

So, quickly, tit play becomes a favorite of every pervert on the team (re: all of the bastards). It's always been a favorite of Bucky's, which is partially why he pushed the team to those two hot spots sitting high on Steve's sculpted chest in the first place, but regardless, it's good for Steve. It's good for everybody, a little bit of agonizing pleasure that turns Steve into a mess of urgent squirming and high, pleading whimpers--begging for more or begging for it to stop, not even Steve himself knows when he's drowning in heat. Molten lava pouring over him, submerging him entirely.

It's plain as fucking day to see whenever anyone starts being mean to his sweet nipples but it's especially apparent when he's also got a dick in his ass. He's a slut, he needs filling. So, of course, he's most out of his mind when he's full and he's tortured just enough.

The rock and hard place of it all are two (or more) slabs of pure muscle in the shape of college boys having their way with Steve. And Steve is rubble between them, ground down to nothing. Nothing but bliss, making the most obscene faces as he's fucked full and his nipples are flicked, twisted, and pinched. His glassy eyes roll right back into his skull while his hot, red mouth drops all the way open, his jaw clattering against the floor. He's a whore for it. Drooling, sweating, and turning the same color as a fucking bright red cherry.

That face he makes when he's right at the edge, swollen lips quivering, about to cum from the love of being filled, clenching down, and having his tits groped, needs to be photographed and framed.

Put that shit in the Louvre.

Steve's a mess then--tits touched, ass fucked--and he's an even bigger mess in the locker room showers where he's supposed to be getting clean, not dirtier.

But Steve is nothing if not dirty. He can't help himself! It's in his fucking biology; the same as being a freak of nature, too good at football, is being a whore. It comes so naturally for him to slobber over cock that might as well be written into his DNA, right next to his all-American-football-star gene.

So, in the locker room showers, he's sucking Bucky's dick like he's starved for it and doesn't get this all the time, while a few different boys play with his puffy, pretty pink hole. Bucky's muscular back is slammed against the cool tile wall, his head tipped back, cock shoved deep into his boyfriend's too-skilled throat; Steve's on his knees in front of him, getting hit with the spray of the shower and melting under its hot water, dripping in vast, rushing rivers over his too-pretty curves and plains; the others are dogpiling into the tiled area wherever they can fit themselves in, hounding each other just for a piece of Steve.

It's energetic and chaotic, slippery and heady.

They're squeezing in just to feed Steve's hungry body a few fingers, aching to feel his velvet-smooth walls from the inside that clench around anything they stick up there like he'll die without it. Fingers. Tongues. Cocks. A fist. Even, Jesus Christ, the tips of footballs, taking bets on now much he'll be able to take before he can't stretch any wider and ends up whining through watery whimpers to stop and please, please, please just fuck him instead. Anything. He'll do anything to have a real cock and not a tease. He's that much of a slavering whore for being fucked.

While Steve makes pitchy, desperate sounds around Bucky's cock, gagging for it, their teammates are cracking jokes about how if Steve's athleticism weren't his money maker than this sweet little pussy definitely would be. He'd make a fortune in porn. And, hey, he could use the same kinds of fucking moniquors, couldn't he? Golden boy. Allstar. Playmaker. Captain.

Then, later in the season, they're crammed together, not in a shower but on the busses--the bus time comes with the game. Always does. They have to travel between stadiums 'cause they can't always have the home field advantage, as much as they might want it that way. The treat for such exhausting travel, though, is the post-game ritual involving, of course, Steve.

After a game, it's always so late, and in the dead of night, driving down desolate, lengthy highways, the team is free to wind down. Someone's playing music over their Bluetooth speaker, just loud enough for everyone to hear, but not blasting out anyone's ears. There's pockets of conversation and the white noise of a few players' snores and snuffles as sleep finds them. And, also, there's the shuffling, quiet sounds of each of the team all taking turns helping Rogers with his own cool-down ritual, getting up from their seats to pay him a visit all the way in the back, back row of the bus away from the driver's view.

Bucky stays with him back there for the whole ride, petting his golden hair and keeping an eye on him while everyone else comes and goes. They know how to share intimately well, and everyone knows they get a few minutes--maybe longer, depending on the length of the drive--with Steve's hot mouth around their cock. They just gotta be patient and wait for it to be their turn.

After such exertion that comes with the all-out blitz of a game, Steve doesn't have the energy to actually blow anyone, so he's not. It's not a blowjob for everybody on the team. No one is nutting; they're bonding. It's just a few minutes of safe keeping in Steve's warm, slick mouth.

The sensation of countless cock after cock, heavy and musky and soft in his mouth with thick thighs pressed against his ears and a hand in his hair, stroking him as if he's a kitten purring away in their lap, keeps Steve calm and easy. He drifts all the way home like that. Somewhere hazy and glittery above his body. Out of his body. It takes true fucking brainpower to think on the fly, assessing the whole field, every player and every potential outcome, and modifying team gameplay plans and strategies to fit, trying to lead everyone to victory, so it's no wonder that afterward, Steve just wants to float. He doesn't want to think. He just wants to feel.

He loves the feeling of cock. Heady, thick, and weighty on his tongue.

He loves being full and warm and kept. All the way down the back of his throat.

Especially after a loss--he takes those too hard, being the golden boy of the team and star of the show, after all--cockwarming everyone on the way home, winding down, is what he needs.

It's the perfect ritual.

Speaking of rituals... in the same way rituals are baked into sports, so are superstitions. Everyone knows that. Lucky socks, numbers, and chants. But, also, venues. Home field advantage is a very real thing with familiarity, more of the team fans turning out and cheering, etc. but it's also a superstition. You feel better at home. Other venues, besides being unfamiliar, can be off-putting from something as simple as getting put in the shittier locker room pre-game to something as complex as resting overnight in hotels with reputations for being haunted. Anything to throw someone off their game and get the upper hand.

So, once, when they're away visiting another team, far enough that they have to sleep before traveling all the way home, they're put up in a complimentary hotel by the league, and that hotel turns out to be one of the supposedly haunted ones, naturally, all the way there, the boys whisper in Steve's ears and sneak up behind him, prodding him in the sides, slapping him on the ass, and asking him if he thinks he'll have a visitor in his room that night. A non-living visitor, specifically, 'cause otherwise he's used to a lot of visitors. Especially at night. And, knowing you Rogers, you'll like it? Yeah? You wanna be fucked by some ghost, hm? Wanna take any cock you can get, even if it isn't flesh and blood, yeah? You take silicone already. What's the difference between that and ectoplasm, ay, champ?

Then, because they're all immature college asshole jocks, the team absolutely pranks Steve that night in the haunted hotel.

They do it in the most creative way, at least. Pranking Steve by playing clips of some of the hot, filthy amateur porn they've made of Steve--filming him on their phones, blurry and shaky with the worst lighting and greedy zooms to display the messy, slick gape of his hole around two cocks pistoning in and out of him, the drooling, swollen, tight-fit of his mouth around another cock, and his eyes while they roll back into his head in overwhelmed bliss--in the neighboring rooms and out in the hall. Surrounding him, yet again.

They just wanna see how long it takes for him to realize those wailing, feminine moans are his own and not some little lady ghost crying out to him from the other side.

Plus, if he gets scared enough, maybe he'll need more than Bucky to hold onto, and he'll crawl into all different players' beds one. at. a. time. whimpering and shaking, begging to just be put to sleep with a good old fashioned exhausting fuck because he can't take staying up anymore.

Sure, it's a little mean, but it takes more than one well-orchestrated prank to throw their golden boy off his rhythm. He's got this shit in the bag.

[agendabymooner]

fergalicious ! f1 drivers x ofcs (alessandro sisters!ofcs) (part two of the mini wedding series)

characters involved: lando norris, alex albon, valtteri bottas, lance stroll, pierre gasly, mick schumacher, carlos sainz, george russell, yuki tsunoda, esteban ocon (with appearances made by lewis hamilton and max verstappen

“they want my treasure, so they get their pleasures from my photo.”

summary: the grid singles were introduced to the bridesmaids of the wedding and needless to say, they need to touch some grass.

content warning: thirsty!drivers, use of explicit language, lando being the culprit, group chats (+ texts between max and lewis), alabama joke (at the end), unedited sorry guys lololol

note: my mental illness hits different today so here’s content

masterlist

maxverstappen posted a story !!!

translation (lmao)

oh mon dieu, elle est si chaude = oh my god, she’s so hot

je suis d’accord = i agree

[tineeericeee]

What Waits Off the Coast Of Santa Barbara

Chapter 3: If You Can’t Cut The Tension, Just Cutting the Netting Will Be Fine

Notes: oh my god it lives

Sorry for the long wait lmao, brain wasn’t working and would only let me add a few sentences every now and then :P

—————

Lassiter felt something poking his side. Something sharp. Some kind of spear? A harpoon? Whatever it was, it was bothering him. Alcohol still sloshed around his brain, hindering his thought process. So he tried shoving the thing away. He’d barely touched it when it disappeared. He allowed his arm to relax, and shuffled deeper into the cool sand-

Wait. Sand?

He tried peeking his eyes open, but that just invited a world of stabbing pain right behind his corneas. So he shut them tight and kept them closed.

He thought back, slowly remembering the night. Getting a drink at Tom Blair’s Pub, and then… going for a walk… finding a ripped up tarp…

As his still-drunk brain tried to remember what happened, the thing came back and started poking him again. This time, he tried grabbing it — to no avail. But just before it slipped out of his grip, he recognized the feeling of keratin under his touch.

Keratin…

Wasn’t that the same substance that made up fingernails?

His eyes shot open, headache be damned. Sure enough, a large finger with an equally large claw hovered just a foot away from him, preparing to poke the detective once more.

Lassiter leapt up and backpedaled away from it, kicking up sand as he tried — and failed multiple times — to stand, trying to put as much distance between him and the…

‘Oh yeah. The humongous merman unconscious on the beach. The one he had passed out right next to.’ His brain supplied the last bit of information he was missing.

But he wasn’t unconscious now, his eyes half lidded and staring at Lassiter.

Eyes that were greener than the grass on the other side of the road, shining brighter than emeralds.

Eyes that were wandering over Lassiter’s shaking body.

Eyes that were full of pain.

‘Right. The netting.’ The threads looked to be cinched tighter than earlier, the skin an angrier red. He watched as the merman moved slightly, sand shifting around as he tried pulling free the arm that had been wrapped up. Only to immediately stop, letting out a bubbly hiss.

Lassiter was wary as the merman turned to look at him once more. As he stared back, something tugged inside his chest. Almost against his will, he took a step forward.

‘Stop stop stop stop stop what are you doing you need to stop-’

The alcohol still lingering in his brain wouldn’t let him stop, legs stumbling closer and closer to the merman. He numbly began digging through his suit pockets as he walked on, the merman watching with hopeful yet still cautious eyes. Eventually his hands wrapped around his Swiss knife, and he flipped the blade open. The merman flinched a bit at the sharp object, but held still as Lassiter kept slowly approaching.

“Okay, I’m gonna- god, where do I start?” He stared for a moment at the snarled mess of string surrounding skin and scales alike. “How did this even happen?”

Lassiter watched him open and close his mouth, as if to speak, but seemingly struggling to string together a single word. He abruptly stopped trying and growled in frustration as his mouth refused to cooperate.

The sound waves resonated deep within Lassiter’s body, slightly shaking him to his core. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. He resolved his dilemma and simply grabbed the closest cluster of netting, cutting through the threads. Tiny snaps slowly began to break through the air.

As Lassiter slowly but surely cut away the net, he found his eyes darting between the task at hand and… well, the merman’s hand.

It was in his nature to be skeptical of everyone he met, and the merman was by no means an exception. This trait of his helped him especially as a police officer, and eventually head detective. It didn’t help him so much as Carlton Lassiter though, pushing people away and causing him to have no friends.

Soon enough, the monotony of what he was doing got to him — as well as the insanity — and he was pulled into the deeper recesses of his thoughts.

Why was he even doing this? What would he get from it? Other than the small satisfaction that he had helped a… creature, a very attractive one at that. Though that small factoid had nothing to do with the situation he’d found himself in. Definitely not. It hadn’t swayed his decision making process at all.

This… this was nuts. The whole situation shouldn’t even be happening right now. It was impossible. Not just the fact that apparently mermaids existed, but they were huge.

How did they manage to stay hidden for so long? Something this big couldn’t hide forever. There had to have been some sightings, some footage or… anything, really.

‘But they have been seen,’ he thought to himself as he numbly continued cutting away green threads. People had seen the fabled creatures. Of course, it’d been hundreds of years ago, back when people were so scared of the unknown they would practically believe anything.

Nowadays, witness accounts claiming mermaid sightings were seen as signs of some kind of mental illness or hysteria, and chalked up to hallucinations — along with a recommendation to visit the nearest mental institution.

Lassiter was broken out of his thoughts when the sound of netting breaking was replaced with the merman hissing in pain once more. He looked down and noticed he’d accidentally nicked him with his knife. “Sorry.”

The merman once again tried to speak. But this time he managed to get something out. “Just… ffffocus…” It came out a little jumbled, as though he hadn’t used his vocal cords in years.

Lassiter hid his shock at the spoken words (not very well, mind you) and continued cutting, shifting around every once in a while to move on to the next batch of tangled knots.

It had been at least thirty minutes when they reached the final stretch: the tail. The merman was getting impatient, having sat up and started rubbing his arm where the netting previously dug in extra tightly.

Lassiter did his best not to look at the merman that was now looming above him rather than laying supine. He tried not to think of how easily he could pick him up and how powerless he’d be against it-

snap

snap

snap-snap-snap

Lassiter pushed out the invasive thoughts, instead focusing on cutting the last remaining chunk wrapped around the caudal fin.

Once the final thread had been cut away, he quickly backed off, giving the merman some space.

He tried not to stare as he stretched all his limbs, pops and cracks echoing over the sandy dunes of the beach. He seemed so much bigger sitting up.

Lassiter then watched, dumbfounded as skin and scales alike began flaking off, blowing away in the wind. Fins and tail crumbled and dissolved, peeling back to reveal human legs. The merman shrank down and down, to a more respectable stature, albeit a bit shorter than the detective’s own height.

Oh, and also naked. Very much naked.

Lassiter was really trying not to stare now. He hadn’t looked up fast enough, however. A smarmy look on the merman was starting to form. He could practically hear the ‘Like what you see?’ that was apparent in the merman’s facial expression.

It was obvious that Lassiter needed to find something to cover up the merman-turned-nude-human with. Not just to protect his dignity, but so Lassiter could actually look at him while also respecting his privacy.

Something in the back of his brain tickled a certain memory, one from not too long ago. A picture of a tarp laying dejected in the sand floated to the front of his mind. ‘Of course, he could just use that.’

“Okay, I’m gonna- uhm, grab a tarp I saw earlier. So you can… cover up… Just- just stay put, I’ll be right back.”

He let out a chuckle, and — very slowly and deliberately — said, “Not… not like I can… go anywhere.”

Oh sweet lady justice was his voice hot. It was still a bit scratchy like earlier, but that didn’t matter. The sound reminded him of the waves crashing against the rocky shore.

He shook his head, and, turning on his foot, trekked through the sand to where he had seen the hole ridden tarp that’d originally caused him to find the merman in the first place.

—————

ao3 link