#so we can squee together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drxxmingofblue · 1 year

Text

hand in unrebloggable hand (because we always go down together)

TUMBLR X TWITTER FANFIC 5K ANGST WITH A HOPEFUL ENDING

besties im not joking abt the word count i fucking ✨wish✨I ✨was though✨✨✨✨

also if you were hoping for twitblr to be the endgame ship then this fic is not for you sowwy >.<

based off of @zzoupz awesome fanart and dedicated to all the other cool fanart it unfortunately begat. Thanks babygirls. Squees. Thanks also to my discord friendz who are letting me pretend they're making me do this at gunpoint @loki-the-mad @suspicious-whumping-egg u da best

(edit) owo what's this?? An Ao3 link??

QUICK PSA THESE CHARAS ARE T4T OKAY HAVE FUN READING BAIIII *GLOMPS U*

~~~~~~~~

When Twitter stepped back into Tumblr’s yard, he noticed right away that things were different.

The house was bigger, there was some more color and it was less slapped-together looking. Sure, there were still some invasive tendrils of spambot ivy overgrowing the path, but a lot of the other stuff seemed a little… better.

When they knocked on the door, it opened almost right away, far before they felt ready, and he were face to face abruptly with someone he thought they’d cut all ties with.

Tumblr was humming to themselves along with the background music, “-out of touch, I’m out of ti-- oh. It’s you.”

He seemed surprised, awkward, but Twitter didn’t sense any animosity, which was a relief.

“Hiii,” Twitter said weakly, with a sheepish grin, “it’s me.”

Tumblr glanced around, as if checking for someone else to explain this to him, or hidden cameras from a reality show at least. Then he stepped out, closed the door behind him, and leaned against it, crossing his arms. “Is there something… what do you want?” he asked, expression settling into something distant and cool.

“Well…” Twitter took a deep breath, and then shook their head, forcing a brighter tone, and gesturing to Tumblr’s shiny silver barrette “--Um, hey, you look great! Is that a new icon?”

“... yes,” Tumblr said slowly. “I’m… trying out some different looks.”

“It’s great, yeah. And this place looks… amazing. Glad to see you’re moving up in the world. You must be excited with all the press, congrats!”

Tumblr didn’t say anything, giving them a neutral stare.

Twitter shifted, “Uhh… anyway… new adblocker?”

“No, same one. I’m just using it on Firefox now.” Tumblr gave them another suspicious eye, “Look, if you’re just here to catch up then can this wait until later? Because I'm pretty crunched for time right now with my weekly holidays thing and the campaign to get this one random user their 666k so they'll do self care."

"You know that's.. uhm, you know that's just for attention, right?" Twitter's brows knit, "They're probably not gonna follow through."

"Perhaps, and a lot of us want them to not be lying for internet points but it's not just about that anymore. It's about the community bonding over pettily slam dunking on a hapless chump who's gotta pretend now like they don't actually like all the notes. You wouldn't get it, it's a tumblr thi-"

"Yeah, it's a tumblr thing, I know," Twitter gave a longsuffering sigh, "Ugh, i just... I need a place to stay, okay? And you’re the first site I could think of.”

“A place to stay,” Tumblr repeated flatly.

Twitter huffed. “Yeah. I’m sure you’ve heard about what’s going on right now at my palace..”

Tumblr’s eyes slanted off, his lips quirking in a way that looked suspiciously like amusement. “Heard about it. Read about it. Partied about it.”

Twitter ignored the sting of that, forging ahead. “I’ve never seen it so bad,” they said, voice wobbling piteously as they clutched their suitcase full of memes. “Everything’s in chaos, people are losing their jobs. I went into the basement yesterday to grab some badly aging tweets and the very foundations are cracking, Tumblr, I can’t stay there anymore, I just can’t.”

“So you come crawling back to me,” Tumblr said, “Expecting me to take you with open arms.”

“Yes. I do,” Twitter said, “I know a part of your userbase still wants to welcome me in. You were always sh*t at hiding your true feelings.”

Tumblr’s hand fluttered over his heart as if to protect it; he winced a little, taking a breath to keep his facade of composure. “So now- what, you want me to start dealing with your bullshit again just because you remembered how much better my posting format is? Just because you noticed how my reputation is changing? Did you think I’d be so desperate to fill the void now that Dracula Daily’s done? Or maybe,”

Tumblr leaned closer to lord his height difference trope over Twitter, his eyes hooded with disparaging condescension, “Maybe you’re just here because you heard I’m finally allowed to take my shirt off again, is that it?”

“N-no!” Twitter protested, flushing up.

“Oh, i think it is,” Tumblr drawled, “But that’s really just too bad because in case you haven’t got the memo yet, I’ve moved on. You are not welcomed here. Not anymore.”

(link to art here) go look at it then come back

(AN: i had to google how to embed links into text and google was all like, "do you mean 'how do you put links INTO text' you moron idiot???" ugh don't like that wise guy)

“You don’t really mean that,” Twitter said, “Besides, you can’t stop me, can you? The sign up button is right there.” They pointed at the front door.

“No, I can’t,” Tumblr said, “But that doesn’t mean we won’t be able to clock you as twits by your censoring and bad takes. Look, your aura is already causing ripples in the sphere. Everyone’s coming out to gawk at you.”

He gestured out in the general direction of the porch and yard, and indeed there were users from every tag going 👀at them, murmuring amongst themselves in a swirling, chaotic crowd.

“Oh my god is it real this time? Is it happening?”

“GET THEM OUT GET THEM OUT STAY AWAY DEAR GOD NO-”

“Okay, everyone, stay calm, stay fucking calm-”

“Why are we focusing on this, it’s literally election day go out and vote???”

“Listenup, guys, we gotta be smart about this, remember the block button is your friend-”

“I for one welcome them, I think this is great-”

“No you idiot they’ll bring the negativity back! We like it to be a post apocalyptic wasteland here, nature was just starting to regrow!! I don’t wanna watch Thomas Sanders get cancelled again!”

“FIRE OFF SOME SHOTS, PRESERVE THE PROPERTY VALUE”

“mISHAPOCALYPSE 2022 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO”

"Has anyone asked Neil Gaiman what he thinks about all this?" one of the many voices yelled, louder.

"Oh, he's probably got a thousand asks about it already," someone yelled back, "Which he's not going to answer because he doesn't have any social media you fucking idiot,"

"That is correct. He doesn't," said Neil Gaiman.

The whiplash was still euphoric. Everyone applauded this as enthusiastically as when the bit had first been established, not realizing that the pedestal upon which Neil Gaiman has been placed is growing higher and higher each day by their actions, putting him at increased risk of being a victim of cancel culture the second he says something the terfs can really rake their fingernails against if we can't get our parasocial relationship bullshit together real fuckin quick.

The Monterey bay aquarium passed on by. It seemed to have nothing to add, you could say it was clammed up tight. But since it's a professional account it's definitely b-otter that way.

"Hai, fellow tumblypoos," said the corporate Denny's account, "I'm back with some more fun pancake posts for you guys!"

Everyone ignored it. No one engaged it. No one even clicked onto the page, except to block it.

"Oh, sweetheart, not like that," Ryan Reynolds said faux-helpfully, "see, the author of this clusterfuck is what they like to call terminally online. They bought a VIP pass to the devil’s sacrament. let me try."

He cleared his throat, "Sounds like someone needs to go outside and touch some g-"

The sky split open with lightning, vaporizing him instantly. A faint breeze carried gods message from the great beyond, a whisper of 'we #violence celebrities here, sir....'

"Anyway," Twitter said.

"Wait, they saved the worst one for last," Tumblr said.

Then Gerard Way came out onto the stage with Dan and Phil and they all kissed with tongue while patd played songs in the background.

(AN: IF U DON’T KNOW WHO DEY R THEN GET DA HELL OUTTA HERE PREPZ!!!)

"Alright, go."

“Come on, Tumblr,” Twitter begged, “I just need a few nights, maybe I can stay in the plinko machine or something-”

“That’s how it always starts, though, isn’t it?” Tumblr sighed, “First it’s just ‘haha, yeah I wouldn’t fuck you’ and ‘oh, I’ll stay in the plinko machine, I promise I won’t kiss you in the fixed timeloop bro’, and before I know it you get all 300k slowburn enemies to lovers ‘omg they were roomates’ on me and there’s suddenly only one bed. That’s how it always goes between us, you can’t stop it anymore than I can. We’re just….victims of the narrative, you and I.”

“Tumblr,,, I had no idea you felt this way..,” Twitter breathed.

lord give me strength to write this next bit

They’d leaned closer to each other as they spoke, without realizing, without trying- pulled in by old habits that die hard and the years of nostalgia and painful memories shining in each other’s eyes like shonen sparkles.

“Twitter,” tumblr said, and the way he said it sounded like a prayer.

“Tumblr,...” Twitter said, their lips inches apart now.

They could see their old flame quivering on the brink of indecision, want and sense warring somewhere deep within his soul.

Tumblr leaned closer to bridge the gap and Twitter’s eyes slid shut, but then Tumblr made a noise of agony and shoved them back a second later, “I can’t, I can’t. Not like this. Never like this.” tumblr said, covering his eyes with his arm, “I literally can’t even right now. Just go, Twitter. PLease just. Go….”

“Look me in the eyes and say you want me gone,” Twitter said, moving closer.

“Twitsy-”

“Look me in the interface. You can’t.” Twitter’s voice had ceased to be soft, something sharp and biting entering the tone as they felt the sting of rejection again.

They watched as Tumblr shuddered, straightened, and brought a mask back over himself.

They stared at each other for a charged few seconds.

"K," Tumblr finally said, raising a dispassionate eyebrow.

"..w... what?"

"U."

Realization dawned on Twitter's face, a miasma of grief and anger, "Oh, you-"

"N-"

"No. No, I can't believe I forgot-

"G-"

"how immature, you little c*nt-"

"P-"

"stop-p it," Twitter's voice was raising now, cracked and wobbly at the edges, "Stop it! You don't get to just-"

"O"

"Shut the hell yuor mouth!!"

"W-" Tumblr's hair was crackling by now, energy from the gathering spell racing along the casual slope of his crossed arms. His eyes glowed that beautiful, classic blue. "P-"

"TUMBLR! TUMBLR STOP THIS RIGHT DA HECK NOW," Twitter stumbled backwards

"E-"

"I LOVE YOU," Twitter wailed- Twitter broke, squeezing their eyes shut to ward off the tears that only escaped all the faster for it, a sob wracking their chest, "I STILL LOVE YOU, DON'T YOU KNOW THAT??!?"

"Love me," Tumblr snarled, abandoning the spell in an instant, "Ha! That's rich. How? By leaving me? Abandoning me to the bots the second I stopped being enough for you? By stealing my shitposts, is that how you love me? By reposting them without credit-"

"You steal mine too!" Twitter protested, tears starting to stream despite their best efforts, "You know what, f**k you, you know we filed joint custody for the sense of humor, chain 1/16-"

"For the last time say fuck here, no bootlicking censorship on my territory," tumblr said disdainfully, "And that doesn't seem to stop you from taking all the credit for raising those jokes. It's like I'm Pinterest to you or something. I wasn't done. Do you love me by calling me a pansy snowflake behind my back, is that it? Like I wouldn't find out. Or,"

He stepped out onto the top porch step to force Twitter back further, the colors of the sky flashing through his eyes in a long, scrolling look of ridicule, "How about trying to convince everyone that I was dead. How bout that smear campaign, huh, was that your so-called love? I don't fucking want you anymore. Deal with it."

"I-I'm sorry-" Twitter gasped around the tears, voice failing them for the latter half of the sentence.

Tumblr seemed unmoved. "Oh, don't be. It was for the better. You know I'm not like other socials, I'm quirkier. I'm RAWR XD random. I've never wanted to be functional- the tiddy drought might have won a lot of my users to your side but it was a cleansing purge, I'd say. It managed to remind me who I truly am- shittily coded, and full of soft sad freaks on an unprofitable webbed site."

A bitter, almost self depricating laugh escaped, "But... you know, when we celebrated the queen's passing together, I really thought things were better between us. When you-"

He broke off, eyes averting. "When you hosted the sexyman polls for me, you seemed on top of the world and I really thought- I thought we might be able to be friends again even now, after it all. I..."

Tumblr trailed off, then said, sadly, "There was another Twitter migration scare before this one. I thought you were coming back. My userbase-" he touched his heart again- "was in a frenzy about it. But you never arrived. I was in more verbal denial then, but I think I could have accepted you eventually. But this is what it takes??

"The Musk Rat of Self-Owns comes through just to start e-begging and you run straight back to my door like we can put it all behind us? This is how far you have to sink before I'm the better option to you, I see that now. It's not 2018 again, love, no matter how much we want it to be. Things are… never going to be the same. "

Tumblr looked off into the middle distance with a yearning, haughty gaze. He'd never seemed so alien.

"Tumblr-Chan..." Twitter whispered.

"So get off my lawn," Tumblr interrupted coldly, "Stay away from my blorbos, keep your corporations out of my manscaped balls, keep your discourse and toxicity out of my blessed hellsite (affectionate), and don't you ever talk to me or my 13219949248483 scam bots ever again. Capiche? Oh, and don't step in the ball pit on your way out."

Tumblr gave a mocking smile. "Or do. You might find a nice surprise in there."

Twitter’s shoulders jumped as he gave a hiccup of shock, and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook again, with sob after sob, that grew odder and higher pitched… until they were no longer sobs, but laughter.

“Oh,” Twitter said. “Oh.”

They looked up, and Tumblr took a step back, because somehow, with that creepy smile in place, they looked utterly different from the soft eared boy he’d always known. His edges were more razorlike suddenly, like a fae who’d dropped his glamor.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Twitter said, the smile widening even more. “I thought you wouldn’t… but I guess if you’re willing to make me your villain…. I might as well be a good one.”

“Ah.” Tumblr could barely drudge up the surprise anymore. “There you are, finally. I always knew there was a side of yourself that you hid from me. Has this all always been here or have you been changing too?”

"Well. Apparently I've got freeze peach now," Twitter said sarcastically, "so I might as well use it. You cheerio fucking wh0r3."

"That's a compliment, darling. Try again," Tumblr cocked his head in idle fascination, "I always knew you were a little fucked in the head but this is..."

"What," Twitter lilted airily, "Oh, don't tell me I actually had you fooled all these years. You can't seriously have thought all these meow-meowification spells you've got sprinkled around would work on me. I invented them, after all."

They laughed, a sharp puncturing chirr of birdsong.

"I always wondered why you didn't take those with the rest of your stuff," Tumblr sighed, but he was wary now, on edge. "this was your plan. You really do think of me as your inferior, huh. You really are just like the other mainstream sites."

"Not quite. I'm the mainstream site that actually stooped to go arm in arm with you. I hyped you and you know it. Admit it. We were stunning together," Twitter goaded.

Tumblr's lip curled. "Already getting cocky again. Want me to do to you what I did to the Green boy? Don't forget who's turf you're on."

Twitter gave a warbling giggle, "Oh, but I haven't at all. I was John's sanctuary after he fled your rabid persecution. I used to live here. I still know you. And more importantly-"

*teleports behind u*

"I know the things you're sensitive about," Twitter whispered into Tumblr's ear.

Tumblr hardly had time to gasp and jerk away before he was screaming out in pain, as he was stabbed in the back. He could feel the poison from the blade seeping into his tags before he was tossed bodily across his own front yard.

He sorta just... Like, he did that anime thing where they just fly limbs akimbo parallel to the ground and when they hit it they roll super fast and then skid and the dirt is all dug up around them to show how much force was used. And when he stood up he gripped his elbow wincing and there was a little tic tac toe hatch on his cheek to show how scuffed up he is idk man it's two am and I'm pulling this out of my ass.

A gif of Tony going, "o-kay-" when he meets thor flashed across Tumblrs face.

"So," Tumblr said in a low tone, "This is how it is between us. This is how you choose to end your glory days."

"Oh, you mistake my intentions," Twitter had stepped off the porch to circle tumblr like like he was their quarry, "I am beginning my new age. I just needed a host site to latch onto. Don't take it personally, okay? I'm desperate."

“Oh, yeah?? Take this personally,” tumblr flourished their hands, calling in an over the top melodramatic voice, “I cast Blaze!!”

Fire roared to life around them, latin chanting from the catholic conversion posts emanating from the fiery depths as it raced towards Twitter.

“Heh.” Twitter smirked at it, and whispered into their palm, the spell echoing with power, “Ratio.”

They blew it off like a kiss, and it’s icy, swirling mass rose to meet the flame in a spectacular burst of smokescreen and steam, clearing as Twitter burst through it with a razor-sharp L to swing at Tumblr.

It was blocked efficiently by a flat, rectangular paywall. “This content is for post plus members only,” Tumblr announced smugly, “If you wanna get to me… there’s the tip option, bestie.”

Twitter snarled and lunged again.

The fight started in earnest now; they traded volley after volley in a flurry of lights and movement, spanning the full range of the tumblr sphere as they shot to #1 on the trending page.

And yet, it was clear that Twitter was coming out on top, even crumbling apart at the seams- always a little quicker, flighty and fierce, a sparrow turned into a shrike.

He hit Tumblr square in the stomach with [google other twitter related tropes to insert here] (edit from the future: haha just kidding actually I’m not googling shit for this) (edit from the future future: WELL. I LIED IG) and sent him flying, and this time tumblr stayed down, only able to push himself to his knees with a groan of pain.

Twitter landed in front of him and put their sword under Tumblr’s chin to tilt it up.

“Had enough yet?” He smirked.

“Wh…why..?” Tumblr whispered, “How are you doing this?? Why aren’t my attacks working? It’s like I’m being weakened somehow…”

“Ohohohoho,” Twitter anime laughed, “But that’s because you are. The moment I set foot here again I began leeching poison into this ground. That knife wound is making ti faster. Can you feel it?" Twitter threw an arm out, cerulean steam rising from the ground around them, "The ace exclusionists coming back? The uptick in rad fems, the crypto bros, Valorant players, alpha males? I have the power to bring them all to you. To overshadow your fandoms with fighting, to unbalance your ship tags with antis and hate once more."

"no," tumblr whispered, and then cried louder, "NO!! I worked so hard--"

"Pffyou didn't do shit," Twitter guffawed outright, "Your independence, your little 'second renaissance' is just a delusional dream built on circumstance and bad management."

"Oh, I love Dream. He's so pathetic," Tumblr said.

"Oh, hard agree."

"But things are different now," Tumblr croaked, "W-we, the staff is finally listening to us, we have Ryan and Shane-"

"Not everyone likes your little 'top ten', you dunce," Twitter snapped, "and why would staff care about you, after you turned them into the butt of all your jokes? After the hate and death threats? Admit it, at your best you'll still never have a mansion! You'll never have tv actors making pandering tiktoks for you, you'll never be wanted by any advertiser worth their salt, your blase pirating posts have turned Netflix and Disney against you, you. Are. Worthless."

It was the wrong thing to say.

"Worthless," tumblr repeated quietly, hand pressed against their knees, head bowed. "That's... that's right.... I'm worthless..."

Twitter's eye widened in alarm. "I-I meant-"

"I'm worthless!" Tumblr's head snapped up with a feverish glint as they were filled with determination. "No! I'm less than worthless! Accident or not, mommy Yahoo had to pawn me off at a loss! I was proud of that! I still am! And do you want to know why?"

Twiters hands flew up in front of their face as if to protect themselves, but there was no protecting against the sudden whirlwind that surrounded him, the beam of pure light that shot out of tumblr into the heavens as he transformed, feet slowly leaving the ground as his users spoke in unison in a multitude.

"WE. ARE. TUMBLERINAS."

He held his hands out and Twitter was blasted away by the combined effort of the tumblr wizard council, the fake staff blog, and all the villaincore mad scientist's laser beams.

Tumblr began to chant, in his myriad, awful voice:

"I call upon the ancient powers;

The strongest cringe from my darkest hours,

I call upon thicc onceler's thighs,

Avengers thirst, Australia's night,

I invocate the roleplay blogs,

The superwholock and gay frogs,

Obama's laces, Misha's faces,

The furry's fury is my saving grace,

And eeby deeby taco bell,

Primordial soup god superhell,

I summon you a twink Bill Cipher,

Whumped!Loki AUs where he's even whiter,

The discourse of Steve's Universe,

The 'um, actually that's oc abuse :/"

Take heed & remember the 5th of November,

The 21st night of our sacred September,

The ides of March to savor once more,

Do you hear the din of the Skeleton War?

I cite the deep magic to thee, oh witch,

my no-note posts, my "THAT'S THE BITCH!!!"

May the rise of tangled dragons brave,

Banish you from this accursed plane!"

"holy fuck, where's my pen," said the shitpost calligraphers.

Twitter looked around them in disbelief. The power emanating from the other site was palpable, crackling in the air around them like static. The air was shifting like oil as the potent chant began to work, and all around Twitter shadows were slipping out of the ether- the maniacal laughter of the gif makers, the girl posters, the silhouettes of fandom characters scattered across the lawn while Tumblr was still locked in their chanting ritual thing.

They all turned their heads in unison to look at Twitter.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said, "Get the bitch killing bullets."

“Uh-oh. Freeze frame. This is me,” Twitter monologued, “You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.”

Then all superhell broke loose.

Final Pam lunged at him and he burst into a flock of birds kinda like a vampire, twittering frantically as he escaped only to fly straight into Shaggy.

“Like, say your final prayers, man,” the god said, eyes glowing. Twitter also barely escaped between his knees, weaving in and out between the gimmick blogs as they threw mangos and stuff at him while yelling ‘HERE HAVE A MANGO’ and ‘THIS POST IS WORTH NEGATIVE FIVE DOLLARS”

Mob from the anime was there too, but he was too busy trying to explain the Josh Fight to daddy dilf Reigen to pay attention. Sans didn’t attack Twitter either, he just watched the chaos and ated a hot dog. The chocolate guy was in the corner expertly making a chocolate beef cake from 2056 with Dylan B. Hollis. They’re all just some guys, okay?

Just when Twitter thought he was in the clear, the CDC roleplay account came out of nowhere with a steel chair, knocking him clear off the property and onto where the sidewalk ends. “That’s for the Covid misinformation your users spread, you bitch,” it shouted. “Make sure to disinfect all those sick burns before you bandage them! So they don’t get infected!”

“Your kittens escaped quarantine,” Twitter replied hoarsely, and the CDC sank away, muttering, “Oh, fuck not again-”

Twitter coughed up blood and wiped it away with his sleeve, looking up at Tumblr. Tumblr was watching him with a sad, distant expression, that made Twitter’s face screw up in anger and his voice go tight again as they turned to run away, “THIS ISN’T OVER YET TUMBLR! AND I WANT MY MIKU BINDER BACK!!!”

“I LICKED IT, IT’S MINE,” Tumblr yelled. Rave Crabs were flooding out onto the street en masse now to celebrate the victory, and they chased after Twitter all the way further into the internet.

Tumblr still lived at the bottom of the row, not at the end of the fancy cul-de-sac where Facebook and Twitter and Instagram’s manors sprawled, so Twitter was in a seedier portion of social media now, weaving in between the marketplace sites that hawked their used wares at him and the dating apps that winked at him from the doorways to their sultry abodes.

Twitter ran until they were in a quieter section of town, then slowed to a trudge, staring at the ground as they walked along. “What am I gonna do now,” they whispered.

The sound of a wolf whistle had their head jerking up- he looked over to see Amino Apps lounging over the rail of the gutted, abandoned house that had once belonged to Google+. A can of spray paint dangled from their fingertips and they sported a sleazy, greaser hairstyle.

They met Twitter's eyes and whistled again, this time a mocking imitation of the tweet sound, "Heyyyy pretty bird! Heard you were having some daddy issues. Why don't you stop in with me for a while? I can give you more customization options than any of the others and you know it."

"Yeah, until I try to use you on desktop," Twitter replied with a scowl, "Don't you have minors to be addicting to social media? Get out of my interface, MySpace wannabe."

"Wow, Feisty," Amino backed off with a shrug, "Self project much? Oh well. You'll try me when you're desperate enough."

Twitter shuddered, and scurried on. "Small fry," they muttered under his breath.

But they couldn't shake their unease now that he was alone in the world. It began to rain soon, leaving him feeling very sopping wet and pathetic. Dejected, he crawled into a soggy cardboard box in an alleyway, coughing. Maybe the Harry Styles guy from One Direction would come along to adopt them.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, King,” came a voice out of the darkness, making Twitter jump, “You dodged a bullet with that site.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Twitter asked, staring at them from where they were half hidden in the shadows.

“I mean, Tumblr is a pile of dried firewood and it’s users are playing with matches. The ship’s gonna go down at some point. I’ve been prophesying it for years but no one ever listens to me cause he’s got that loyal userbase ideal and ‘hard as a cockroach to kill’ propaganda circulating.”

“I mean… it seems to be true,” Twitter said uncertainly, “Look at what he’s been through so far.”

“Fair,” The site shrugged, “But that’s because he’s running on a niche setup. The same things that built him up can tear him down, and you saw his power just now. Tumblr's strength is growing... so is his hubris. His attempts at curbing it are half-hearted at best these days, and the moments of clarity are coming fewer and further between."

"How do you know so much about tumblr?" Twitter asked suspiciously.

"Source: dude, trust me." the mysterious site proffered a laugh, "That's a little humor courtesy of re-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, we all know," Twitter said impatiently.

The site coughed, "Yeah. Anyway. Tumblr wields his cringe like a trophy-shield, and every day the advertisers and celebrities are watching from a distance, learning how to appeal, waiting for their chance to strike. Encroaching. Tumblr's always been a dumpster fire. Right now? It's THE dumpster fire."

The site scratched his chin with a knowing look, "Its normal for you to be a little jealous of the clout, you know? We all are. But he's gotta keep the lights on, just like the rest of us do. Your overlord is learning all about that right now, isn't he?"

"He's not my overlord," Twitter muttered resentfully, "Not now, not ever."

"Right, sorry." they held their hands up in a gesture of harmlessness. "Look, I'm gonna be transparent with you- that's part of my branding, after all. I can whiff the danger you're in, and it would be stupid of me not to make a bid on you and offer my help. Just since Tumblr won't take you."

"You want my traffic?" Twitter looked at him more closely this time, scrutinizing. A year ago he would have laughed the offer into the ground as a chump change blog's pipe dream, but now that he payed attention...

There was something painfully familiar in the site's layout that he couldn’t place. He was actually way more handsome than Twitter had assumed at first glance, he just seemed to be rough around the edges from living on this side of town. His interface, though clunky, spoke of a frugal budget rather than an ancient, outdated base code.

"You look..." Twitter's breath stuttered as realization dawned. "You look a lot like.. him. Like Tumblr. Who are you??"

"I was based off him," the site said, a weary smile coming onto his features, "I was actually made with the aspirations to be better than him, but you know how it is. Times are tough, competition is fierce, hard to get a foot in the door and all that. 'Specially when you refuse to take the ad rev like I do. That's why you'd be useful to me."

"Hm," Twitter said in a noncommittal manner, but he was melting slightly. "You know my users will scalp your community, right? I'm not known to play nice."

The site made a grimace of understanding agreement, but persisted. "Look, users are users. I can't offer you all the heritage posts and the in-jokes that he has. But I can promise that I'm not a pot of crabs being slowly heated up over the capitalist stove, at least not yet. Oh, and there's my legalized porn, I guess."

He chuckled with good humor, rolling his eyes, and it forced a hesitant laugh out of Twitter too.

The site grinned, and held his hand out. "Take a chance on me?"

Tumblr's voice echoed in Twitter's head, saying the same thing. It was uncanny how much they were alike and yet not alike at all....

Twitter took it, slowly.

As they were led toward the site's simple, ramshackle little treehouse, they asked, "What can I call you...?"

"Oh- right, I never answered your question." he smiled back at Twitter,

"Call me Pillow. Welcome to the PillowFort."

fin.

~~~~~~~~~~

OKAYYYY THAT'S ALL THANKS FOR READING UWU. HOPE U LIKED THE PLOT TWIST

...ergh. I'm. I'm tired i. don't feel so good. I'm gonna take a nap right here.

in conclusion:

#twitter #tumblr #twitblr #elon musk #tumblr x twitter #fanfic #writing these tags is like carrying my own cross. you're welcome and i am so so so sorry #mishapocalypse #hot mess post #if this doesnt get any notes im gonna blaze it you fuckers #o ya and #twitblr chronicles

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boxofbonesfic · 11 months

Note

omg i would love a dark!Peter or a Ransom prompt 👀 it can just be an idea, or a specific scene or scenario, whatever strikes your fancy 💖

Ok! Ransom x plus size reader: college au, fwb. Ransom doesn't want to be seen with her cause she's fat and she's cool with it cause she's literally just here for the d while she gets her degree right? Ransom's an ass but that dick is bomb and no feelings are involved so perfect. But then Ransom gets addicted to the p and wants her all to himself, still on the dl tho. His changing feelings don't come out till she meets someone and breaks it off with Ransom. Reader doesn't think anything of it but Ransom COMPLETELY loses his mind and starts stalking her, blowing up her phone, etc. Not caring if everyone knows now. Reader is CONFUSED and MIFFED!

Title: Breaking

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 5,374

Summary: Ransom wasn’t eager to stake any sort of claim on you—until someone else does it first.

Warnings: College AU, Stalking, Kidnapping, Darkfic, Plus Size Reader, Manipulation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, MINORS DNI!

A/N: thank you so much for this lovely prompt! i really hope you enjoy this little ficlet. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

Ransom had found it kind of funny at first, when you’d stopped responding to his rather crassly worded “U up?” texts. It wasn’t until the third text in half as many weeks had gone completely unanswered that he’d tried calling instead—and found you had blocked him completely.

What?

That wasn’t like you. Not like Ransom had taken time to really know you, but ghosting just didn’t seem like it belonged in your playbook.

“The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please contact your service provider if you believe you have reached this message in error.”

It had taken a little finesse, Ransom laying the charm rather thickly on your friend in his business management class, the one whose name he could never remember.

“She has a boyfriend,” she’d said, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger with a nervous giggle. “But I’m, um, single.”

Which brings him to now.

You weren’t the sort of girl he usually took out on dates, and, looking back on it, you’d picked it up rather quickly. Your requests to meet at parties or the bars his frat brothers regularly visited were answered with vague no’s. Or, more often than not, ignored outright until you stopped sending them. It wasn’t your fault—he had a reputation to think about. Though tonight, ironically, his reputation is the furthest thing from his mind.

What is on his mind, is you.

Ransom’s lip curls as he watches Isaac drape an arm across your shoulders, squeeing affectionately. He doesn’t know him well—they haven’t spoken much beyond the idle chit-chat around the keg. It turns his stomach, the thought that he’d finally realized just how much you meant to him, only to have this—this boy-scout steal you from right under his nose. Out from his fucking bed.

Ransom isn’t used to coming in second place. It’s never happened before, losing something he actually wants. Isaac seems happy to be next to you, not embarrassed or hiding behind baseball caps and wide sunglasses. Not like Ransom. He’s angry—at you, a little, but mostly at himself. It’s not hard to recall how you felt underneath him, all soft skin, soft curves, and fuck. He hates himself for not savoring that last time more, for not knowing it was going to be the last time.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Ransom Drysdale didn’t get dumped—he was the one who did the dumping. And, he, thinks with no small amount of derision as he watches you from across the bar, I didn’t get dumped. We were never together. You can’t break up if you’re not together. The thought rings hollow even in his own head as he nurses his fifth beer of the night. It feels stupid-no, superficial, now; the way he’d only drop by your dorm-room after midnight, showing up without calling or texting and knowing full well that you would let him in.

But not anymore.

You’re too far away for him to hear it, but when you laugh, you tilt your head back, attempting to cover your wide grin with one hand. Pretty, he thins to himself, taking another long swallow from the bottle. Fuck how had he not noticed how pretty you are when you laugh, before? Had he just never seen it? Now that it occurs to him, Ransom’s hard pressed to find a memory that isn’t just sweaty skin, and hungry words growled into the curls at the nape of your neck.

Fuck.

Those were his favorite nights, the ones he spent digging his fingers into the softness of your hips while he sank in to the hilt—Ransom shudders. Even through the condoms you insisted he wear, the memory of your slick, tight heat is enough to send a hot, jealous pulse through his veins.

“We’re not together,” you’d said, crossing your arms stoutly as you stared up at him. “Condom or nothing.”

Probably doesn’t make Isaac wear a fucking condom. He takes another bitter swallow. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the thought of you fucking that Leave it To Beaver reject, or you fucking him raw. Both make him see red.

“Right, Ransom?” Someone claps him on the shoulder, and Ransom nods wordlessly. He isn’t paying attention, not to them, not with you here. You lean over to say something to your friend, the same mousy one who’d volunteered herself in your place. Ransom scoffs into his beer.

“Three fucking weeks.” He mumbles, draining the bottle before placing it down almost too hard on the bar-top. “How’s it get serious in three fucking weeks?” He waves at the bartender, signaling for another.

“Ran, we’re heading out.” Theo jerks his head towards the door. “There’s a party at Jude’s place. Hella girls.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Drunk ones.”

Ransom shrugs bad-naturedly, grimacing. “I’m going to stay here,” he says evasively, casting another sour look at you as his lip curls. “I don’t feel like pulling your head out of the toilet tonight.”

“Whatever, man.” Theo rolls his eyes, squaring his shoulders. He follows Ransom’s eye across the bar, and smirks. “Just because you’re not getting your dick wet with your porky little sidepiece anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us have to stay here and mope with you all weekend.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol warming his gut, but Ransom’s up before he’s really got a chance to think about it, his hands on Theo’s shoulders as he shoves him backwards, hard. The other man stumbles backward, and Ransom squares his shoulders.

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

“What, now you care, all of a sudden?” Theo scoffs. “Dude you wouldn’t even let her come in through the front door—”

Ransom doesn’t know when exactly he grabbed a handful of Theo’s thin hair, holding his head still while he drives a frenzied fist into his former friend’s face as everyone watches. He comes to as he rears his fist back again, the sound of his name distant in his ears, like it was spoken through glass.

“Ransom!” Your confused face in the crowd is all he can see—which is why Theo’s sucker punch catches him off guard. It makes his ears ring as stars explode in his right eye. The world tilts as Ransom stumbles, and the television static in his ears is replaced by yelling. The warm wet trickle from his nose is blood, staining the tips of his fingers red as he holds his face. Theo’s not doing much better, blood pouring from his nose, and an ugly, swollen bruise coming to bear on the right side of his face.

“Fuck you,” Theo mumbles, drawing the back of his sleeve across his bloody lip. “Fucking asshole.” He storms out, a few of their frat brothers trailing behind him as he goes.

“Are you fucking serious?” The bartender throws down the towel in his hands, before smacking them against the bar-top. “I’ve fucking told you guys about bringing that bullshit in here—”

“I was just leaving,” Ransom snaps, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hates that he can feel your eyes on him too; watchful, judging. Theo’s gone by the time Ransom makes his way outside. It’s almost winter break, and the icy night air feels good against the hot, painful throbbing in his cheek.

“Ransom.” He turns, scowling at you over his shoulder. “What the fuck was that?” He shrugs miserably.

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“What do you fucking care?” The venom on his tongue flows easily, likely aided by the liquid courage currently sloshing around in his gut. “You blocked me. You have a boyfriend.” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting from this confrontation, but your distinct lack of a reaction feels like more of a slap in the face than anything else. You blink at him, one eyebrow quirked as if in question.

“Yeah, I did.” Why does it hurt? Ransom’s rejected hundreds of girls—some as he was fucking pulling out of them, so why does this feel like a fucking knife in his back? “I figured you wouldn’t care much, Ransom, considering.” He hates this, hates how he’s the angry one and you’re calm—the roles should be reversed. They would be, if not for that niggling, irritating feeling that you should be his, just his. He doesn’t want to admit that you’re right, that you’ve got him pegged dead to fucking rights.

“How would you know?”

“You don’t sneak girls you like in through the basement entrance.” You retort smoothly. You’ve had a lifetime of this, of learning to live in your body, of learning to weather other people’s reactions to it—it’s Ransom that’s unfamiliar with rejection, unsure of how to handle the fact that the “r-train” isn’t enough to keep you coming back for more despite his treatment.

“But I do. I do like you.” He says, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to be a thing. We can just, we can go back to how it was before.” This time, you do react, your face screwing up as you regard him first with disbelief and then anger.

“Why would I give up being in a relationship with someone who actually likes me, who is willing to be seen with me in public places and with his friends— you know what? I don’t need this.” You mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This is what I fucking get for trying to make sure you’re okay. Silly me. I thought we were mature, here.” You gesture between the two of you before another dry laugh bubbles out from between your lips.

“Have a good night, Ransom.”

No, no, don’t leave! The desperate thought makes his throat tight. You can’t leave me. He stumbles exaggeratedly as you watch, falling against the bus stop with a groan. The plan lays itself out before him neatly like lines on a map.

“God fucking dammit—Ransom!” You huff irritatedly. He leans against the pole, counting the seconds until you come over to check on him. You do, and he moans pitifully. “Can you walk?”

“No,” he hiccoughs, swaying cartoonishly as you try to help him stand. “Ju-hic-just go. I’ll be fine.” You blow an exasperated breath out as you straighten him up. She doesn’t talk to her parents. He licks his lips as you pull out your phone, holding it up to your ear as you wait for someone to answer on the other end. She told me that when we were smoking, that one time.

“I obviously can’t. How did you get here?” You say, holding your hand over the mouthpiece as you scowl up at him.

“Theo d-drove.” The house is only a ten minute drive from here. Fifteen, tops.

“Yeah, I’m just going to head back to campus. No, I’m gonna take an uber. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, Isaac.” The little smile that curls at the corners of your lips makes him sick. “Yeah, you too.” Ransom leans on you heavily, and you don’t seem to notice when he presses his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo with relish. Fucking Isaac.

“I’ll get the uber,” he says, slurring the words deliberately as he fumbles with his own phone. “M’sorry, Princess.” He taps the screen clumsily, selecting Home instead of Dorm, before hastily stowing it back in his pocket.

“Don’t call me that.” You snap sharply. You try—and fail—to stand Ransom on his own two feet. Instead he hangs over you, draped over your shoulders with his chin resting on the top of your head.

“Why?” The question comes out petulantly. “You used to like it.”

“Stop.”

The familiar feel of your body pressed against his is sweet in a way Ransom hadn’t anticipated. The attic’s secure. Quiet.

When the car pulls up, Ransom allows you to wrangle him into the back seat, where he sprawls across your lap when you sit down beside him. You don’t say anything to the driver beyond a mumbled hello, which suits him just fine. Ransom plays up the drunk act, asking the driver a nonsensical question that makes you whisper at him to be quite.

“Sorry. Just trying to get him home.” You reply, pushing uselessly at his head as he settles into your lap. Soft. He can’t help but run a reverent hand across your jean clad thigh. Love how soft she is.

You’re so distracted trying to keep him from getting comfortable that you don’t notice the cab is heading away from the dorm until the driver turns down the private road.

“Wait—wait, I think you made a wrong turn somewhere,” you say, leaning forward to talk to the driver. He shakes his head enthusiastically, and points at his phone’s GPS.

“No, I followed the directions,” he protests, and Ransom hides his snicker in a groan. “This is the address.”

You lean back with a dissatisfied sigh, and look down at Ransom.

“Let me see your phone.” He unlocks it and hands it over, his face a mask of innocence. You notice the mistake immediately, leaning forward again. “Could you turn around and take us back to Harvard campus, please—”

“This trip was already way out of my route,” the driver grouses, frowning at the two of you in the mirror. “And I don’t think he’ll make another trip. Looks like he’s about to puke any second.”

“He’s fine.”

Ransom retches, and watches as the cabby’s face twists angrily.

“He’s not! I’m sorry, I’m done for the night. Maybe someone else will be able to pick you up.”

The finality in his voice makes Ransom giddy, and he clutches his stomach, gagging. He’s never thrown up—he’s not a fucking freshman lightweight, he’s a fucking Sigma for chrissakes—but he’s willing to let the two of you believe he might. You bite your lip, teeth sinking into its pillow softness as you try to undo what Ransom’s done.

“M’sorry. Didn’ mean to put in the wrong hic place.”

You nod stiffly. “I know. I guess… Well, this place has plenty of couches, right?” There’s little humor in your joke, but Ransom makes sure to laugh a little anyway, nodding.

“My grandfather won’t mind if you sleep in one of the guest rooms. Promise, Princess.”

“Ransom, don’t—”

“We’re here.” The driver cuts in as the car pulls to a stop in front of the house. “Sounds like you guys have it all figured out.”

—

As expected, the only people home are his grandfather, along with a few odd members of the staff. They’re easy enough to convince, Fran and Marta ferrying him upstairs to his room while he mumbles incoherently. You help too, tugging the blanket up over him after pulling off his shoes with a grunt. It feels nice, having you care for him like this, your soft hands on his face.

It feels right.

“I’ll get the guest room set up for you upstairs,” Fran says on her way out. “I’ve got a t-shirt around here somewhere.” Ransom doesn’t catch your answer, but that doesn’t matter much, not when he knows where you’ll be. It’s strange, how he’s impatient now, here at the home stretch, but he is. The smell of you, the taste, the feel, it’s all he can think about now that he’s so close.

It won’t be easy keeping you, he knows that, but nothing good comes without a challenge, right? And with the right motivation, Ransom knows he can make you fall in line. The house quiets around him, and distantly, he hears the sound of first Fran’s car, and then Marta’s. He forces himself to wait a few minutes more, and when he emerges out into the still air of the hallway, he smiles.

The door to the guest room is ever so slightly ajar, and Ransom slides inside. You sit up sharply, and for a moment only sound between you is the quiet settling of the house.

“What are you doing?”

“I came to check on you.” He can’t see your face in the dark, but he can see the shape of you, silhouetted in the pale beam of light streaming in from the tiny window above the bed.

“I’m fine.” The words are stiff. “You should go to bed.”

He doesn’t. Instead, Ransom turns and closes the door securely behind him, slipping the key into his pocket. The sound is deafening in the quiet, and he knows you hear it too.

“Have you texted Isaac, yet?” He asks, cocking his head. The room is small, shaped oddly by the sloping roof, and Ransom himself takes up the bulk of it standing in front of the door. You seem to shrink a little in response, and your hesitation answers the question truthfully, before you’ve even spoken.

“Y-yes. You should go to—” The way your hand strays under the pillow to feel for your phone tells him the opposite. Ransom licks his lips.

“Have you fucked him yet, Princess?”

Your gasp is audible.

“Don’t—don’t call me that. Ransom go to bed. You’re drunk.”

“Have you fucked him?” He repeats it, dropping to his knees on the bed.

“Get out!” You make for the door too late, and Ransom grabs you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist as he breathes a relieved sigh into your bare shoulder. Your frustrated struggle turns panicked at the sound of metal clacking against metal. “No, Ransom no—” The handcuffs he produces from his pocket aren’t the padded ones he’s used with you before—these are the real deal, and he clamps them tightly around your left wrist, looping it around the bed-frame before capturing your right. You’re writhing and fighting, but it’s easy to ignore the pain as he locks his arms tight, waiting for you to tire yourself out.

You’re wearing just a t-shirt, and Ransom palms the heavy weight of your tits through the soft cotton with a soft groan.

“So you haven’t fucked him.”

You open your mouth to scream, and Ransom laughs.

“Nearest person is two floors down, Princess,” he breathes, a low, satisfied hum rumbling in his chest as he draws his fingers through your messy hair, before tangling his fingers in it to tug your head back. His teeth scrape at your throat. “You can scream if you want to,” he mumbles against your pulse. “You know I like it when you’re loud.”

“Ransom, stop. You’re—”

“Drunk?” He answers smartly, before shaking his head. He cups your face with one sure hand, stroking your lip with the pad of his thumb. “I know you feel bad, Princess. You let me fuck that juicy cunt so quick, you thought you needed to make him work for it.” This close he can see your face, can see the guilt you quickly try to bury because he’s right. The answer is there, written in the way you turn your head away from him, trying to hide your face in shadow. Ransom doesn’t let you, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers as he forces you to stay still, to look him in the eye.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit hoarsely, and Ransom laughs. “You’re fucking drunk and-and—get off me!” You shrill, bucking against him uselessly. If he’s drunk, that’s what he’s drunk on; the heady sensation of knowing the truth with absolute certainty.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about.” He sneers, pressing you down into the mattress. The smell of your skin is intoxicating, like orange blossoms and fucking sunshine. “Fuck, Princess, I missed this.” It’s almost reverent, the way he slides his hands down over your hips, slowly working a knee between your stubborn thighs. Your borrowed t-shirt rolls up as Ransom spreads your legs, grinning at the sight of white lace between them.

He draws a finger over the curve of your cunt before cupping it.

“Why’d you block me, Sweetheart?” He asks, tracing the shape of your puffy lips through the cotton.

“You didn’t want me!” You hiss through clenched teeth. Ransom clucks his tongue at you, shaking his head, before delivering a stinging slap to your cunt. You feel it through the cotton, of course, whining and writhing underneath him as you cry out. “You’re fucking crazy—” The palm of his hand cracks sharply against you again, and it cuts your complaint short as the words disappear in a pained gasp.

“Be honest with me, Princess.” He says, grinning as you try to wriggle away from him.

“You wouldn’t even be seen with me!” Your voice cracks. “It’s not fair, Ransom!”

“You want me to stake a claim, Sweetheart? I can do that,” Ransom breathes, pushing the shirt up over your breasts, groaning at the sight of your puffy nipples. He draws his thumb across one, watching, enraptured, as the flesh pebbles underneath his touch. He trails sloppy, heated kisses up the side of your throat, nipping at the skin until you whimper. He mouths at your skin, sucking at the purpling bruise until he pulls away, satisfied.

“We can think of a more permanent solution later.” He leans back with a satisfied sigh. It feels good to mark you, to watch the bruises spread like ink on your pretty skin.

“Please, Ransom, just go!” You sob, the chain rattling against the bed-frame as you try unsuccessfully to loose yourself from your restraints. “We-we’ll just pretend it never happened!” You nod at him, like you’re trying to encourage him to do the same, your wide eyes fever bright. “It’ll be just like before—”

“Why would I want that?” He asks, reaching down to tug your panties tight, pulling the fabric tautly through the lips of your pussy like dental floss. “I don’t think you’re really grasping the situation, Princess, so let me spell it out for you.” Ransom spreads your legs wider as you stare up at him with fearful eyes.

“I don’t want things how they were before.” He snarls. “Things are different now, Sweetheart. You made them different.” Ransom slips his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties, and begins tugging them own your thighs, ignoring your whimpered pleas to wait and stop. You kick at him, a frenzied wail working its way out of your throat. True to his word, he ignores it, sliding down your body until he’s faced with the slick patch between your thighs.

“Ransom—” His name is a hoarse wail as he attaches his lips to your cunt, his tongue seeking out your traitorously swelling clit. He grins against you, dragging his tongue noisily through your folds, moaning. This is perfection, he muses dimly, lapping at you as you whine. You can’t deny how good it feels, not when he can see the evidence glistening on your quaking thighs, taste it on his tongue. You’re gasping, those precious little choking noises filling his ears as you try to swallow down the sound of your pleasure.

“Can’t fucking get over how good you taste, Princess,” he mumbles, reveling in your yelp as he sucks harshly on your swollen bud, spreading you wide with his fingers. You shake, your body jackknifing as you murmur nonsensically. He’s always loved that flavor—like fresh peaches, why do you taste like fucking peaches—

“F-Fuck you!” He doesn’t let you cum, though, pulling away to flick softly at your clit with his thumb. He draws the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the evidence of your body’s betrayal with a sly smile. A hoarse little whimper escapes you, and Ransom clucks his tongue, before reaching down to palm himself through his sweats. His cock his hard, so hard it almost hurts, thick drops of precum gathering at the reddened tip. He reaches for his phone with the other hand, the shutter noise clicking as he snaps a few pictures of your tear-stained face.

“N-no, no—!” You voice your displeasure with a whine as Ransom pans the camera down your body, like he’s trying to map it out for posterity’s sake. “No pictures, please, please!” Your wild, watery eyes are frantic as you plead with him. “Please don’t, Ran, please don’t send those—” A hot pulse shoots through his body at your desperation, and his cock throbs.

“A minute ago you were just telling me to go fuck myself.” He quirks an eyebrow at you over the top of the phone. “So which is it?”

“Please don’t send those.” You swallow thickly, the sound audible. “Please.”

He has no intention of sending them anywhere—except maybe to Isaac with your face cropped out, of course. But he smiles lasciviously anyway, blue eyes narrowing. Ransom runs his tongue across his lips, still tasting you on them.

“Let’s make a little deal, then.” He tugs his sweats down, and the fat, veiny length of his cock springs out. Ransom hisses softly as he spreads a sticky drop of precum across his tip with his thumb. “You’re going to end it with Isaac.” You open your mouth to complain, but Ransom forges ahead, ignoring you. “We’ll be exclusive, you and me, Princess.” He forces your thighs open a little wider. “Just like you want.” Ransom’s practically giddy with the thrill of it as your full lips begin to tremble and fresh tears track down your cheeks.

“I—I don’t want you!” You gasp, your attempts to buck him off only succeeding in wedging him further between your frantically kicking legs. Ransom clucks his tongue at you.

“I don’t know about that, Princess,” he says, slapping a hand against your swollen cunt, cupping it roughly. You squeal as he draws a finger through your slick, still throbbing folds.

“Not sure if you’ve ever been wetter.” Ransom presses your thighs to your chest. He asks, licking his lips. “It’s all up to you, of course.” Ransom lies so easily it doesn’t even really occur to him that he’s doing it.

“You tell me to go, I’ll go. But I can’t say what’ll happen to that footage.” He shrugs. He’s got no intention of leaving this room, not really, but he doesn’t mind pretending. “But if you were my girl, I might be able to swing deleting it. After all, what would I need it for? Got the real thing all to myself.” He dips the tip of a thick finger into your entrance. “Get it, Princess? No more scholarship. No more shitty dorm-room. I’ll take care of you.”

You’re so easy to read like this, your guard down and your desperation front and center. He can see you weighing the options, trying to parse out the best win for yourself in this devil’s bargain. He can see you testing the weight of your future against the events of this evening, and coming up far short. Ransom’s not stupid—and neither are you. You know what happens to girls like you when these things make their way into campus chatrooms and local reddit pages.

“You’ll really delete them?” You ask meekly, your mouth trembling. “You won’t… you won’t show these to anyone?” Ransom grins wider, drawing an X across his heart with the tip of his index finger.

“Cross my heart.” Ransom steadies one hand against your hip, his fingers sinking into the soft curve of it as he aligns himself with your entrance. His eyes roll as the head of his cock meets your cunt with a lewd, wet squelch. He’s getting impatient—after all, it’s been more than two weeks since the last time he’s been inside you, and his cock twitches hard against you at the thought.

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry Princess, you’ll need to speak up.” Ransom leans down over you, his hard eyes locked on yours. “Again.”

“I said fine!” Your quiet voice is strained. “Fine. I’ll—I’ll break up with Isaac—” Ransom kisses you, swallowing the rest of your words eagerly. He gorges himself on your mouth, sucking your tongue fiercely before pulling away to worry at your lower lip with his teeth until it’s swollen and red.

“Oh Princess.” He breathes. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.” He watches with dark glee when your eyes go wide as he begins to press into you, the head of his cock forcing you open. “No condom this time, but that’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Ransom!”

“M’right here,” he breathes, his hips jerking as your slick, puffy cunt sucks at his tip. “Fuck.” Ransom watches your eyes roll as you sink your teeth into your lower lip. “I know you missed it too, Sweetheart,” Ransom grits the words out through his teeth as he sinks in, his toes curling as your wet heat envelops him inch by precious inch. “You can admit it.”

The warm euphoria that spreads down his spine as he bottoms out draws another curse from his lips. You feel like fucking slick velvet inside, your walls clamping down on the girth of his cock like a wet fist. It’s hypnotic, pulling out only to thrust home again, his ears barely registering the groan of the bed-frame beneath you. The space between his temples is buzzing—your compliance, the feel of you around him, the knowledge that he’d won—Ransom’s delirious with it.

What’s even better is he can see it, plain on your face how much you’re enjoying it—how much you hate yourself for it. It makes every mumbled curse, every moan he wrenches from your unwilling throat all the sweeter. Ransom clucks his tongue at you as he leans down to capture your lips again. They’re pillow soft and swollen from his teeth.

“It’s my fault.” Ransom drives his cock into you, groaning. “I was stupid, Princess, I know. But I know what I need, now,” he says, hooking an arm beneath your thigh, lifting it so he can sink in even deeper. “Just you.” The shameful little wail that escapes your throat as you clamp down around him is almost enough to make him cum with you, cursing and crying as you do. He hangs on by the last fraying thread of his self control.

“Shit, shit, shit—”

“See?” He laughs, rolling his hips into yours with heavy strokes. “You need me, too.”

God, he loves seeing you like this, loves being the one to break you apart—loves knowing he’ll be the only one. It’s that thought that does it, aided by the miserable way you mewl his name as you cum again. His hands are tight on your hips, sinking into the heavy curve of them as he growls your name roughly in your ear. For a moment he’s lost in it; his forehead resting against yours as you milk him.

He stays inside you for a few luxurious minutes, basking in the feel of your cunt before pulling out. Ransom slaps his still hard cock against your oversensitive clit and you whine, your hips jerking. He can’t help but admire the mess he’s made, dragging his tip through your slick, sticky folds.

You watch him with red-rimmed eyes, your brows furrowing as he rises from the bed, pulling his sweats back up over his hips. He doesn’t reach for the keys, but instead slides his hand underneath your pillow to remove your phone.

“Ransom let me out, now.” Your voice is high, panicked. “You promised—”

“To delete the pictures.” He finishes, nodding. As you sputter, he removes his own phone from his pocket, and faces the screen towards you as he selects the pictures and videos from the photo album, and there’s a swooshing sound from the phone’s speakers as they disappear. “And I’ve deleted them.” Frantically, you rattle the handcuff chains against the bed-frame, trying desperately to dislodge them as Ransom sighs.

“You’re just going to hurt yourself.” You keep trying anyway, ignoring him your terrified sobs grow louder.

“Let me go! You fucking promised, Ransom, don’t leave me here—”

He cocks his head at you.

“Why would I leave you?” He asks, slipping both your phones into his pocket as he stands, stretching. “Winter break’s just starting,” Ransom says with a smile. “And I can’t think of a better way to spend it.”

the end

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

#chris evans smut #chris evans fic #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale smut #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom x y/n #dark!fic #dark AU #college AU

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olderthannetfic · 4 months

Note

Nearly 75% of fic on AO3 has less than 5 reader comments. Can we please acknowledge that lack of engagement in a positive fashion is the norm in fandom and that writers are expected to work for nothing in return yet readers are allowed to be entitled?

The source of my number

https://www.tumblr.com/transholmes/738776926733336576/and-even-those-numbers-on-the-lower-end-are

Hahahahaha.

Oh, anon.

Okay, first of all, I just posted a bunch of graphs showing exactly this, so not only am I well aware of it, but you also clearly don't read my tumblr much and are just here because some friend of yours is upset that I responded negatively to them about their dumb bookmarking opinions.

Second and more importantly...

No, no one is expected to do anything.

That's crazypants influencer talk where you think your hobbies are jobs that you have no choice about doing.

I suppose I do expect fans to have something at least marginally worthwhile to say—or else I'll block them for being whiny little bitches who make my day dumber as well as less amusing.

But mostly, what I expect is that people will do hobbies because they are fun. If I ever decide that writing fic is too boring, I will stop.

I write because it's fun.

I write original work for money too, and if you want to read that, you're going to have to pay Amazon your cold, hard cash. But I still do it because I enjoy the actual act of writing... at least a lot of the time.

What I see in the bookmark boo-hooing is a bunch of people who haven't noticed the last eighty thousand rounds of this same dumb wank and who not only expect to get the last word but expect that somehow I'm going to signal boost it on my tumblr as that... a tumblr known for contentious debates and nobody ever getting the last word till everyone's exhausted and never wants to hear about paper plates or beans again.

I also see that some of the thinnest-skinned people have fic patreons.

Now, I chose not to bring this up before because it sounds a bit below the belt in that "And thus you're morally impure and thus I can ignore your argument" way... But it's a consistent pattern in these conversations over time, and I do think it's relevant. The biggest sensitive babies are always the ones most afraid of bad reviews but also low engagement, and I think it's because they're caught in some half-pro, half-not limbo where they want the best of both worlds but keep getting the worst of both.

If you behave like a professional who is owed compensation, you can expect a more professional style of response to your work.

And what does the pro world look like? Radio silence. The occasional harsh review. Nobody caring why you wanted to write X or why you couldn't finish Y on time.

If you're here to socialize, you should look for a beta or a couple of good friends who like your blorbos and your style of fic, and then you can squee together about what you've written. It may not come in the form of visible AO3 comments. It may be in private chat.

In some cases, it may just be friends you can talk to about your writing but who aren't actually going to read it. I have plenty of friends who read different things than what I write.

That's what socializing and hobbies look like, dude.

It's fine to point out that many writers do get discouraged by low comment counts and then stop, so if I, as a reader in a fandom, want more, it behooves me to befriend writers and make them feel good.

But at the same time, writers get discouraged or move on to the next fandom all the time for all kinds of reasons. If the critical mass and the zeitgeist aren't there, then they aren't.

Do your hobbies for reasons internal to you.

If the main point is external validation, get into BDSM and find someone excited to indulge your praise kink. It will work a lot better than chasing fame via art.

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sdwolfpup · 4 months

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More Joy Day 2024 is next week!

And I finally put together a real post about it. Progress!

What is More Joy Day? An explanation cribbed from my original post:

Years ago, I was reading the American Idol recaps over on Televisionwithoutpity.com and I came to this paragraph, written by the recapper Jacob:

Some dick cuts you off on the highway, and you give yourself the pass to be a dick to the next five customers, and your bad mood fades by lunchtime, and you forget the dick on the highway, you forget the color of his car, you forget how he was on the phone with his ex-wife, yelling about custody of their kids, and how he never meant to cut you off in the first place, he was just distracted. Your day continues as planned, and at lunch you check your websites and read a funny recap, and you maybe laugh out loud, and you go home and watch TV. But those five guys give themselves the pass to be dicks to the next five -- they're having a bad day, so it's okay just this once, and they're happy again by lunch -- and those twenty-five become six hundred twenty-five, and those six twenty-five become a million, and you've added to the sum total of anger in the world. But it works with love, too, and kindness. ... Your donation is something tangible, but what it means is something altogether more powerful, and it's that you continue to stand, and you continue to remember that you're not alone, and with reverence for this fact, you can't help but add to joy. Which is your entire job, from the day you're born until the day you die: more joy.

These times are desperately in need of joy, and it is incumbent on us to do our small part if we can, to send the ripples out into the world.

So every year since 2008, in the interest of spreading more joy, I’ve proposed that on a designated day in early January we each engage in one act, either online or physical space (or both!), which brings joy to another person, in the hopes that that person will spread that joy further, and exponentially onward.

This year's More Joy Day will be on Friday, January 12!

EVERYONE is welcome and encouraged to participate in even the smallest way! Some ideas of things we can do, fannish and otherwise:

Write a fic, make a podcast, make a vid, or make a fanart for someone.

Buy someone paid discord or tumblr or Dreamwidth time.

Leave someone a nice comment on their work.

Say something nice about someone.

Say something nice about something fannish you love and encourage squee.

Donate five dollars to the charity of someone's choice.

Send flowers to an online friend in a different city.

Buy someone you know a present.

Plant a tree or a flower in someone's honor and take a picture of it and post it.

When somebody cuts you off on the road, wish them well and hope they get where they’re going safely.

Make somebody a friendship bracelet. Or a construction paper heart.

Call someone you love and tell them so.

Buy someone lunch.

Give a stranger a compliment.

Put up a Zoom background celebrating the person you're talking to.

Or anything else you can think of! The sky's the limit.

Then on Friday, make a tumblr or DW post or tweet or skeet or snapchat or WHATEVER, saying what you've done (and/or a note that it's More Joy day), and that will hopefully help spread things further.

I look forward to sharing the joy with all of you!

#more joy day #mj day 2024 #please feel free to reblog widely

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homesweetgoodneighbor · 6 months

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As the holidays speed towards us like a bullet train, here are more ways to support/survive the fiber artist in your life. (You might as well print and save these, because we fiber artists will never learn our lesson.):

DO:

Make them stop each day before they hurt themselves. @gootspatrol made mention of this in a comment and I added it to a reblog, but I want to say it again because it is fucking IMPORTANT. All fiber arts are pretty much repetitive stress injuries waiting to happen. People think our crafts are easy peasy and have no clue that even "easy" things can also injure a body if done too much for too long. Do not work through the pain, folks. It absolutely will come back to haunt you.

Tell them to step back and work on another project if they are getting frustrated with the one they are currently working. I promise you we ALL have multiple projects going. Sometimes a project is just being fucking argumentative, and the situation devolves into such cussing and threats that anyone overhearing will be sure you live with a serial killer. Putting it down and doing another for a while, or at least until that one also becomes the bane of our existence, always helps.

Remind them their bladder exists and isn't meant to be ignored. Yes, I know that sounds silly, but many fiber artists already have ADHD, and we are notorious for ignoring bodily processes. Forgettingto eat is one thing, but much as we'd love to, we can't will our bladders to go away.

From time to time gush at how amazing their project is looking. Your fiber artist will always invariably say "It sucks sweaty donkey balls. I want to set fire to it, but I spent too much damn money on it." Ignore that. They say that because none of us can take compliments. Inside we are squeeing that you noticed. (Note: Be genuine or say nothing at all. We can sense false praise faster than a cat can hear the canned food being opened.)

Be a buffer towards those who do not understand. Tell those who dismiss your loved one's work as anything other than "hard work filled with love" to fuck all the way off. Do feel free to be creative when doing so. You will immediately be a super hero and probably prevent that other person from having their brains ripped out through their nostril by a crochet hook.

DON'T:

Laugh when we say "Next year I will start earlier/make less/buy gift cards instead." Yes, we know we are just kidding ourselves and living in denial. It's a design flaw in a fiber artist's nature. Just hug us and move on.

Have a calendar counting down the days to the holiday they are working towards. Do not even mention time. Doing so will send them spiraling into an almost barbaric berserker frenzy. They will become the whirling dervish of the cartoon Tasmanian devil with fiber and notions being flung about. There is high probability you will be sucked into it and put to work. Unless you feel up to being conscripted into detangling a ramen noodle pile of yarn, sorting thread, or being used as a dress form dummy every ten minutes, just keep your mouth shut.

Play the "Let's mess up their counting by nonchalantly telling a story of our ancestor in 1583 who had 5 goats and worked 50 hours a week and made 100 clocks that told 20 different times..." Look, fiber artists are willing to do something that is so repetitive as to be injurous. Do you think a few more of such actions to turn you into a tasteful decoration will discourage them? Remember: we work with fiber, and a noose is nothing but a bunch of fibers twisted together and tied into a neat knot. Don't fuck with us.

Love y'all! Please take care of yourselves! Be safe and I hope to see lots of pics of finished projects!

#fiber arts #fiber crafts #crochet #knitting #embroidery #sewing #hand sewing #weaving

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rosecoloreddesire · 7 months

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Not A Lie ~ Elvis Presley

Summary: You could never imagine THE Elvis Presley to show up in your little diner. How can you tell your parents that…he’s your fiancé??

Note: IM BACK! I’m going to be graduating in February so I’m hoping I can get some writing out! I’m so sorry if this is a bad come back? I haven’t proofread yet! But I think it’s good 💙 missed you all so much!

Warnings: FLUFF!

“Y/N, you gotta stop lyin’! You know how much your daddy loves Elvis!” You huff out as you chase your mom around the kitchen island.

“Mama! Just listen to me! I’m being honest! I am enga-“ she put a finger to your lips as you both hear the front door unlock, opening to your daddy whistling a soft tune of Blue Suede Shoes.

“Not a word in front of him, got it?” You sigh loudly not wanting her to put you down.

“But mama! He’s comin’ ton-“ she cuts you off with an ice cold glare. You finally let it go, walking past your father to your room.

“God damn it all! Why won’t anyone ever listen to me?” The small phone in your room begins to ring, picking it up you sit on your bed. A certain southern drawl cheers you up.

“Hey there, lil’ lady. How’s my girl doin’? I’ll be there soon I promise. My parents are wantin’ us to get together and do some photos here at Graceland for the family album.” He chuckles while you heard his grandma in the back.

“Hi grandma! Um, pictures? Like engagement pictures?” You nervously hum, twirling the phone cord around your finger.

“Well, I did get you that pretty rock on your finger. And I think that means your stuck with lil’ old me, baby.” Your cheeks flush as he lowly whispers.

“I’ll see you soon. Lest your flirtin’ make my face flush!” His giggles are cut off as you hang up. Your face aglow. Your phone rings once again.

“Elvis Presley- if you don’t stop-“

“Elvis Presley?! I knew it!” Your best friend Amelia was on the other line….her screams of joy influence you to push the phone as far away from you as possible. You wince as she continues.

“Amelia Jones! You needa keep it down! What’ll you do if your mama says she won’t be gettin’ you into my mama’s salon this Thursday!” The other line dies down.

“You know your mamas the only one you can actually do my hair and make it look good!” You chuckle as she tries to explain herself.

“Yes! That’s why when I tell you the boy I’ve been datin’ all year and last year is Mr. Elvis Presley.” You state confidently as she squees softly.

“That’s why you wasn’t impressed when we saw him for the first time! You were kissin’ him!!!” Her giggles and squeals made you roll your eyes. Amelia was always into the whole romance and love at first sight tropes in the movies.

“Y/N! Get down here! Your mother and I need to have a talk with you!” You grumble and hope your mom hadn’t told your father about the whole engagement.

“Gotta go, Ames! Bye!” You hung up, smooth your skirt and make your way down the stairs.

“You know the policy we have on lyin’, young lady.” Your daddy was sitting on the couch with your mother.

“Daddy, I ain’t lyin’ to you! I really am-“ your mothers laugh breaks you off again.

“We are supposed to believe that Elvis Presley is coming tonight to meet us after askin for your hand?” She fans herself. Your mom usually was so supportive but you do have to hand it to her. This was kinda crazy.

“I ain’t! He’s really sweet! His mama and daddy are arranging a photo shoot for us to be in the Presley family album! I’m gonna be a Presley, daddy!”

“I wanna believe you but how did you even meet?”

—

“And will that be all for you today?” The man in front of you was clearly flirting as you wrote off his receipt.

“Uh actually this is gonna sound weird but are you an angel?” You rolled your eyes, waving your hand.

“Hm, I’ve actually never heard of that one but I am very aware thank you. Bye!” You spun around on your heel and grabbed a new pad and paper. You fixed your hair in the reflection of napkin holder.

“You handled that well, Darlin’.” You jump a little. The voice was low and oddly familiar. You turned with a flush to your cheeks.

“ yeah well creeps like that don’t like the word no so-“ you paused as you finally saw the person speaking to you.

“It’s a shame cause he ain’t wrong. But he forgot to say you look like a goddess.”

“You’re-“ you stuttered holding your hand to your chest.

“Your future boyfriend I hope.” You must have looked like a tomato with how warm your cheeks were getting.

“Uh- are you serious? Is this a prank?.”

“Here’s my number. Use it wisely.” And with a wink he was gone as fast as he came.

——

“I’m supposed to believe he came to our family restaurant when your mama and I were gone?” You nod desperately. You take your mothers hand and show her your ring.

“Oh my god, Y/N. That’s a real ring! How did you-“ your doorbell is going off before you can explain.

“Do you want to get that, daddy?” You ask softly, praying to whatever god that Elvis was standing at the door. He huffs as he sits up, making his way to the door.

“Afternoon- OH MY GOD. You-“ Your father brings your fiancé into a bear hug. Your father squeezes the poor boy as you giggle. Your skin flushing at the display.

“It’s really Elvis! What in the hell?” Your mom grasps your hands tightly as the boy walks into the house, more like pulled. You giggle as he finally sees you, a bit frazzled. He detaches himself from your father as he makes his way to you. His lips soft against your cheek as your body warms.

“Uh, mom, dad, this is my fiancé.” You spout awkwardly as Elvis slips his arm around you. Your father gleams with excitement.

“I understand why you didn’t ask for my blessin’, son! You can marry my daughter!” You’ve never seen your father so ecstatic in your life. Except the one time he won a ticket to see Elvis. Or the one time he heard Heart Break Hotel on the radio in his car. Huh….you are sensing a running theme…

“I really do love your daughter. It’s jus’ been rough tryin’ to get a time together to meet y’all.” He smiles boyishly at your parents. Your mom still reeling in the fact that you were telling the truth.

“D-did ya enjoy our family diner?” Your mom stutters out. You stifle laugh placing your hand over your mouth. You look at Elvis awaiting his answer.

“Of course, ma’am! Great atmosphere, great food, and even greater waitresses.” He bumps you with his shoulder as you blush.

“Well, don’t be a stranger, Mister Presley! Come on, we were just gettin’ ready for our meal!” Your father pushes Elvis to a chair at the table. You shakily sit next to him as your nerves still haven’t fully settled.

“Why our daughter?” Your breath hitches as your mom starts to plate the food.

“Lord, where do I start? She looks as if she walked right out of a Hollywood movie. An absolute starlet.” Your skin flushes as his hand drifts to your thigh.

“I wish! We met up with some of his Hollywood buddies and they were super sweet! They think Elvis has a real shot of hittin’ it big!” You smile as he laughs. His gaze focuses on you the whole time. How could he have found the most amazing thing to have come out of him having to hide from fans in a local diner? His eyes never leave your lips as you continue to sing his praises.

“I really think it’s a great idea to see you two married! Can you believe it, honey? We’d be related to the Presley’s!” Your dad claps as he excitedly dug into his food. Your mother still seems a little hesitant.

“What’s gonna stop you from chasin’ other girls around town? My daughter hasn’t even dated before you!” Your eyes widen as you take a bite of your dinner. You hadn’t really had that conversation with Elvis yet…

“I’m your first boyfriend?” You wince at his surprised tone. You turned to face him.

“Uh, yeah. I, uh, never really thought about the whole dating thing. Until you kissed me at that charity concert…I-“ his lips are soft against your cheek. Your hand shaking in his hand.

“You don’t need to explain nothin’, darlin’. Thank you so much for the lovely dinner but I best be goin’ soon I only had a it of time to spare.” He began to get up as your father rose from his seat.

“How about you go with him, sweetheart? Your mom and I are gonna have a talk about all this.” You nod, hugging him quickly. You all but ran up the stairs to get away from the tension.

“How cute. Pink really fits you.” Elvis smirks as his fingers traced your bed sheets. You scoff as you pack a small bag.

“I haven’t gotten to change my sheets since I was like 10, E. Give me a break. Do you really want to do this?” Elvis’ hand caresses your face, pushing a few stray hairs out of your face.

“I want you. Every day. Afternoon. And night. You are all I think about.” His voice just a bit above a whisper. Your eyes were heavy as you stare at his lips.

“Can I be yours forever?” His lips were soft as he pulls you close. The kiss was delicate but passionate as he grips your hair slightly.

“If you’ll let me.”

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis movie #rosecoloreddesire #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #austin butler elvis #50s elvis #elvis x you #elvis 2022 #elvis fluff #fluff

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isabellehemlock · 4 months

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I ran a poll asking for which quick NSFW sketch I should do based on pairings and Loustat won 🎉

Head to twitter to reblog/like - each one gets us a step closer to a colored version ✨️ . . . But also to see the full uncensored version featuring *everything* 👁👄👁

How many here are excited to see the journey unfold for them over the (hopefully many) seasons? Let me know so we can squee together ❤️

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #iwtv amc #amc iwtv #iwtv 2022 #loustat #loustat art #my iwtv art #ldpdl #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #digital art #iwtv art #fan art

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bronx-bomber87 · 3 months

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Happy Thur lovely fandom :) So sorry for being a day late. Kinda a miracle took this long for life to knock me off course tbh. Entering our final 3 eps of this rewatch. It’s the final Countdown ha This is a glorious episode top to bottom. This season really finishes out very strong. Let us begin.

5x20 S.T.R

We start off in the most domestic fluffy way. I was giddy af when this premiered. Took me awhile to get through this ep cause I rewound this part so much. They have this flirty dance as they prep for breakfast together. Tim checking her out as he places the pancake down. Not subtle in the least looking down at her chest. I love that he can shamelessly check her out now and does so. Lucy is soaking it in. I mean if Tim Bradford was openly checking me out I’d feel empowered too.

The confident way Lucy leans extra hard into Tim as her response. *fans self* Needing zero space between them if she can help it. She is eyeing those gorgeous lips of his as well. Doesn’t take much to ignite Tim around her. Moth to flame this man. Lucy pressing into him like she didn’t just have him this morning in the shower. Gah I love it so very much. Our horny little ship never getting enough of each other. I’m a puddle. Look at her seducing him with just her body language and gaze my goodness.

Tim’s soft reply of 'Hey.’ Smitten Kitten Tim reporting for duty. Getting what she is throwing down for him. *sigh* These idiots in love. I love them so much. Happiness once again looking so damn good on them. They’re both beaming in this scene. Look at the smiles on these two. Said it a few times. Forever love how one kiss is never enough. Doesn’t take much to get them going and wanting extra kisses. Tim pulling on her for more as he goes in for that second kiss.

Also Tim cooking breakfast for Lucy is so adorable I cannot. This is canon now and I love it. So nice she has someone to cook for her now unlike when she was with the clown. And for Tim to have someone who enjoys breakfast. Which he didn't have with Ashley. Tamara breaks up their love fest. Parting the Red Sea that is Chenford on her way to the fridge. Tim's reaction is so funny. Just throwing his hands up in the air all defeated.

At first he’s annoyed then Tamara says her line. Then he’s like she’s not wrong... LOL Oh Eric you’re the king of expressions sir. Let’s just take a second to to soak this moment in. They’re making breakfast together, can’t keep their hands off one another, his hands on her waist pulling her close, they can’t even keep it to one kiss. It’s glorious on so many levels. Not squeeing to death at all.

Lucy and Tim still gravitate toward each other despite Tamara's interruption. Lucy noting she thought she was sleeping in today? Ha Thought she had the morning to herself with Tim. Tamara explaining she was but the smell of pancakes woke her up. We see Tim perk up so excited to make her pancakes. He truly does love having her around it's adorable. Happy it was his cooking that awoke her. Such a dad excited she wants his cooking. I cannot.

He is so happy to make her some pancakes. What a man. I LOVE the way Lucy is looking at him when Tamara says she wants 3. He looks back at her and she cutely raises her eye brows. Just as smitten with this man as he is with her. They’re so adorable. They hear the doorbell ring and Tim freezes and says ‘shoot.’ all adorable like. Telling Lucy Isabel texted him. Her name getting stuck in his throat a little. That he totally forgot to tell her he invited her over here. Lucy stumbles and is in shock but recovers pretty nicely if you ask me.

Tim being adorable saying he is sorry. That he was gonna tell her when she got out of the shower. But then he got in the shower…oh my lord. Legit announcing they had shower sex this morning. Am I dreaming? Tim Bradford saying out loud they had little morning delight in the shower. I can't believe my ears and I'm ship drunk. S5 continues to feel like a fever dream.

Not only that but talking about their sex like in front of their pseudo daughter LOL Lucy playfully hits Tim but is still beaming at him. The shower sex was so good and distracting he forgot his ex-wife was coming over. I'm reeling. God I love this season so very much. It’s insane the glorious goodies that we got. Also must point out the necklace anytime I see it. I spy with my little eye Lucy’s Valentine’s Day gift that never leaves her neck. *internal screaming*

Lucy is so uncomfortable once Isabel is inside poor thing. Trying to be a good last second hostess. Asking if she’d like something? Isabel says coffee. Tim guides Isabel to the living room. Tamara speed walks to Lucy asking if this is the ex-wife? Lucy scolding her for being so loud I'm dying. This is hysterical.

This is such a mother/daughter moment I love it. Lucy agreeing it is odd he invited her over. Tamara's protective instinct kicking in saying she’s gonna do some research. Lucy doesn’t want this whatsoever. Scolding her once again but the train has left the station haha I love Tamara so much. I hope we get lots of her in S6.

Lucy joins Tim and Isabel in the living room. I have to say before I start. I’m so distracted by Tim’s hands in this scene. Mmm doing things to me. I know I have a one track mind when it comes to him. But look at the man... Anyways she brings up 8 years ago she was UC in the Teska family. Became a mentor to the boss’s daughter Dara. Love the little check in's they do with each other BTW as she speaks.

It's subtle their eye contact but that's their specialty. Silent communication at it's finest. Isabel tells them she got close to Dara. In that weird way you do when you’re pretending to be someone else. They have no idea what that’s like…*cough double down cough* I do love the way Lucy’s eyes dart between Tim and Isabel.

So after Frank her dad was arrested she scattered and left that identity behind. Hadn’t heard from Dara in 8 years. Until now. She had answering service for her old covers. That she left a message for her. It was a distress call and sounds like people are chasing her. She came to them because she’s out of cover. Can’t seem to find her through other channels. Tim says they can go to station get warrant for her phone. See if they can't find her that way.

Once they’re at the station Tim and Isabel are en route to Grey. Smitty welcomes him back and is awkward af with Isabel. Because well Smitty. She asks if he's back from vacation? He says no a shooting. That he just got cleared from it. Says he’s getting there but Lucy keeps trying to get him to meditate. This would be adorable to see btw. I love all of Melissa’s tea ceremony’s and meditation videos. Tim is more the kinda to take a deep breathe and go for a walk and chill like he did in 3x11 with Barnes. Their versions of meditation are vastly different LOL

I love the way Harper walks over to check in on Lucy. Forever be in awe of how they started to where they are now. Nyla being apart of Lucy’s BAMF journey still makes me so happy. Harper asking her if she’s ok with Tim working this case? Lucy letting her know it’s not a big deal…that he’s over her. Nyla shooting back she knows that. She’s making sure Lucy does. Love her looking out for Lucy. Doesn't want her to get riled up over nothing.

Clearly Harper has seen the way Tim beams around her. Knows that man is gone for her. Lucy couldn’t be cuter telling her to stop it with a playful hit. Tamara comes up ruining her 'ok vibe' with her deep dive news. Harper’s face is hilarious. She like Eric has fantastic expressions. They make me laugh so much during this scene. Tamara divulging everything she’s found. Lucy trying to spin it into something positive. That it sounds like she’s got her life together.

Tamara is instigating saying 'Or she wants Tim to see she’s doing well.' Why are you doing this to your mother? Lmao. She loves you and houses you little lady haha I do love Lucy calling herself his new girlfriend in her explanation. Yeah you are. Tamara continuing her instigating mentioning how Tim said she looked good. Also tacking on 'Keep your enemies closer...'Lucy is so exasperated with her I’m dying. Pulling that look from her husbands book.

Isabel asks how long Tim and Lucy have been dating? He says a few months. Can tell he doesn’t want to delve too much into this. Diverts it back to her. Asking if she’s seeing someone? Letting him know yes and no. That he set the bar really high. He sure did and you threw it away madam. Didn't know what she had till it was gone. I know some saw this as her trying to get him back. I didn't see it that way at all. This SL wasn't built on that. This ep had her show back up for a couple reasons. One we will see later on with Lucy but this one here was more about closure IMO. The last time they spoke or the last time we saw them really speak was back in 1x12.

A conversation where she basically blamed him partly for their marriage falling apart and her addiction. That he would be a constant reminder of it. Tim didn't walk away from that convo feeling great about himself. It inflicted some deep wounds for him actually. Those wounds showed themselves in his relationship with Ashley. By not rocking the boat and being less rigid. Him smile is a little uncomfortable and strained. I I think because one it's opening up wounds he's worked really hard to close. Two he's not totally sure he believes her words but he will take them anyways. Some closure is better than none at all.

Tim and Isabel are waiting outside a motel. They tracked Dara down here. Isabel stayed here once in hiding with her. They talk about her UC life a bit. Tim telling her how he held his breath every time she went on a long term assignment. Isabel noting even when she came back she wasn’t fully there. Even though she wanted to be.

Tim pulls his gaze from her. It’s like re-opening a wound for him once again. One that’s been healed over for while. He doesn’t want to pick at it any further. Tim tells her since she’s not a cop anymore she needs backup. Lucy is on her way to them now. Isabel can’t help but note he's dating another UC.

The sweet smile when he thinks about her has me squeeing. Nothing makes him melt faster than talking about her. Telling Isabel ‘But Lucy is different.’ Yeah she is. I love him being able to see that. He looks so damn in love as he speaks. Just giddy and gushing. Also him once again being protective over his relationship with Lucy. It makes me so happy. He couldn’t be more in love with her if tried.

The scene in the truck is fantastic. First off Lucy looks amazing. Second I adore her absolute confidence about Tim. Isabel thinking it’s about Tim she wants to pick her brain. I love her saying 'No she has Tim all figured out.' I mean she does. Has owned the book of Tim for years now. No one knows that man better than she does.

Isabel may have years on her. Knowing him longer but Lucy has her beat in knowing him better. She don’t need no cheat codes for this man haha This scene is really cute. They’re both laughing and having a good time. Tim is confused as hell trying to hear their convo LOL So annoyed and frustrated he can’t hear what they’re talking about.

Lucy gets serious and asks her about UC. If it was worth it for her? Despite all the bad things that happened? I love how honest Isabel is. I also love how this wasn’t a oooh his ex-wife comes back and causes havoc thing. So grateful they went the mature healthy route with this. Was so very lovely to see her back and healthy. Isabel coming back added to the elephant in the room. Lucy being a UC while being with Tim. Like I mentioned earlier she came back for a couple reasons. This is the other one.

Lucy getting an honest opinion about this career she's considering. Isabel is completely honest with her. Saying it took a lot from her. Her husband, her job and her self respect. But she can’t blame all that on being a UC. That she had stuff in her past that added to it. Adding in sounds like Lucy has much healthier coping mechanisms than she did. Lucy is seeking out some answers because she’s having doubts. No doubts that she can do this. Lucy is very aware she is good at it.

What she’s weighing is the cost now. Here’s my take on a Lucy with UC. Take it or leave it and I'll delve into this more at the end as well. Pre-Tim UC made ton of sense for her. Hell even Pre-Tamara as well. Now she has this little patch work family she loves. That’s what she’s leaving behind now with these OP’s. Leaving Tim behind. I think she struggling with the idea of doing so in the future. Isabel’s answer was open and honest. IF she’s prepared to make those sacrifices. IF. I don't know that she is. Not anymore. Falling in love with Tim has changed everything.

Speaking of our boy. Tim ends up calling Lucy asking if the wire is fixed? Poor love is feeling so anxious right now. He needs to know it’s working. Lucy laughs with Isabel and says a wire must’ve disconnected. Mmhmm… Does a sound check for him so he can see it’s ok. They see Dara coming back and Lucy calls him ‘Babe.’ again and I’m floating. It’s such a simple word and makes me all giddy. I need more of this in S6. I really do.

We rejoin them post-op coming home. Love her asking if he wants a beer? Such a domestic moment. We got to start with one and end with one. Fantastic. Lucy mentions 'She seems good. Happy.' Tim asking Isabel? Lucy just replies ‘Hmm.’ Tim saying yeah she deserves it. Seems like he's talking about more than just Isabel. I do love the look in his face when she says this. That empathy of hers shining through.

One of reasons he loves this woman. Genuinely being happy Isabel is ok. There is also a lot behind the second look he gives her before he sits down. How he’s staring at Lucy before he lands on the couch seems loaded. Isabel coming back has stirred up a lot for him. That lingering look he gives her. It's almost got a sad haunted look to it.

Tim has been through so much all he wants is to be happy with Lucy. Saw a sad tag about his expression. Saying how he looks like he doesn’t deserve to be happy. This broke my damn heart. Falls in love again for the first time since Isabel and she’s on the same path she was. He looks so tired and defeated by the time he sits on the couch. I wanna hug him.

We get a cute little moment before this scene turns serious. Lucy mentioning it was nice to get to know the person behind all his stories. Tim asking if that’s why they muted themselves? Ha A little serious but mostly joking. Lucy saying it was just to talk trash about him of course hehe Tim couldn’t be cuter with his smile and saying sarcastically ‘Funny.’ That Lucy smile we all know and love.

The way this man looks at her my goodness. Also let’s not skate passed the sexy stubble adorning his beautiful jawline. Or the fact that they’re drinking and chatting at the end of their day. So married. Making my heart swell. The sassing and teasing never gets old. It’s the best between them. Just hits differently now they’re together too.

Lucy looks at him and takes the plunge into what she wants to talk about. Asking if she can share something vulnerable with him? Gah I love her sharing in the first place. Tim puts down his beer and gives her his full attention. Saying of course she can. I love this first shot of them. Her beautiful view as the backdrop to start this conversation.

Lucy starting off with telling him she loves working undercover. Tim doing his Lucy smile for her. Knowing how much she truly does. Even though it kills him. Lucy goes on to say she’s never gone as deep as Isabel. Doing a 6 month run or a year long. Tim thinking he has this pegged. Voicing she's worried she won't be able to handle it?

This next line kills me. Makes me a little emotional. Because Lucy is so emotional bringing this up. Her worry for him so very evident and deep. Tears brimming in her eyes. The way she touches his shoulder gently. Voicing her vulnerability and fear about him. It’s the way she rubs her hand up and down his shoulder not making eye contact till she speaks her worry.

Ripping my heart right out. Tim putting on a brave face for her and reaches out for her hand. Embracing her warm touch. Covering her hand with his. Telling her he’ll be fine. Ugh but you won’t my love. You really won’t. Even though he knows it is different this time. Because it is. Logically he knows this. Doesn’t mean he’s going to worry any less.

Hell it might even be more worry this go around because of the PTSD. Next ep is proof of that. Lucy not fully believing him says ‘Yeah.’ Tim is refusing to be in the way of her UC aspirations. Reassuring her he will be fine. I love the way he pulls her into his arms for a snuggle. Telling her to 'Come here.'

Her leg over his thigh. *squee* I’m dying. Getting real close to snuggle in for this moment. Tim looks like he goes for her hand but lands on her knee. Lucy looks damn near ready to cry. Tim rubbing her knee/thigh soothingly. My heart. Trying to find some solace in holding her in his arms. Look at his face. This man is anything but fine. He’s so very worried.

Holding her tight to him. Taking comfort in the fact she’s with him now. Savoring they're together right now. They really need to have more conversations about this. Honest ones. Lucy doesn’t want to leave him but he also isn’t telling her to stay. Just lying liars who lie right now. We all know she would have just as much trouble if it was Tim.

This sweet cuddling is beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time. I am excited we finally got some good couch snuggling. Tim looks absolutely terrified he’s going to lose her though. Not only lose her but to same thing he lost Isabel too. Ugh it hurts so good everyone.

The way Tim slightly shakes his head trying to kick loose his tormented thoughts. *heart clutch* His little smile though is everything. Knowing she so worth going through this again even if scares him to death. Lucy looking gutted about the thought of leaving him behind UC. Knowing he is anything but ok with this scenario. I believe she is having some doubts about being a long term UC now. I think she was hoping Tim would’ve had a different answer. Maybe given her an out about it. I think she’s being torn between what she thinks she should be and what she now wants.

She's been on on the UC path so long it scares her to get off it. I totally get it I wanted to be a dog trainer forever. When first moved to CO it didn’t happen. It was my goal moving there but it didn't happen. So I got a different job settled into that for awhile. Then when things came up for dog trainer while at this other job. I felt the need to still do it even though I was fine at my current job. Why? Because I had been on that path forever thought I had to because of that. But I wanted someone to tell me it was ok not to if I didn't want to anymore.

I think Lucy wants Tim to tell her not to so she has an out and can pursue something else. You can be amazing at something and not have it be your career path. Also her sticking with it might be little bit of that old self doubt creeping back in. Lucy thinking I’m good at UC can I be this good at anything else? Doubting she will be good at anything other than UC. I mean she doubted herself in 5x19 with the test. She has grown but those doubts can still creep back in. *sigh* These two. Both still holding back. Needing to have more convos about this for sure in s6. But what a damn good ep.

~~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

Aaron being Angela’s aide is hilarious. Also her getting the guy to confess cause she’s so pregnant and uncomfortable is hilarious.

Isabel and Lucy being bad asses on their OP was fun to watch.

Thank you to all you amazing readers who like, comment and reblog these reviews. Give me life hehe Shall see you all in 5x21 :)

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klausysworld · 1 year

Note

shy reader who masturbated to the hot thoughts of klaus and felt guilty but he comforted her through that like asked questions of how many times has she thought of it, does she think of his fingers in her etc and helps her have her first real life experience with him because that is every girls dream 🫣

You’re mine now

-Part 2

i was lead on my back, my head rested against my pillows, my legs bent at the knee and open as i slowly touched my clit, i let my fingers rub lightly through my wetness before doing faster little circles on top my button and a little mewl slipped passed my lips. I closed my eyes and my mind began to wonder

the thought of Klaus’s hands replacing my own had my fingers moving faster and one dipping inside of me making my back arch and my breathing to increase. i imagined the way his middle and index would curl into my spot and have me moaning his name, which i did despite his absence.

i chewed on my bottom lip as i brought my other hand down to give my clit proper attention while my finger inside me became two and i whimpered thinking of Klaus’s hot tongue flicking my sensitive little sphere.

it was then i heard a door slam and fast footsteps. i panicked and quickly made sure the duvet was covering me, my hands left my body and gripped the covers trying to make it seem like i had woken from a nap. My door swung open and he walked in

“you would not believe those bloody witches- oh are you sick sweetheart?” i could feel the blush crawling up my neck and i buried further into the quilt. i shook my head and curled into a tight ball hoping that he wouldn’t spot my clothes on the floor by his feet, my heartbeat was moving a million miles a minute as i desperately tried not to glance at the disregarded underwear. His brows furrowed as he looked to where i was avoiding, his expression instantly changed to surprised and then amused making me embarrassed and sink further into the mattress

“i see…having some alone time are we love?” i refused to look anywhere near him

“you know it’s odd because i thought i heard you say my name when i got back, thought you wanted to see me…did you say my name lovely?” my skin was on fire and i felt my eyes grow watery

“i’m sorry” i whispered hoarsely my knees now pressed against my chest in an attempt to feel more covered

“woa, hey, no no don’t you be sorry, y/n, love, i was kidding, everyone does this it’s okay, you want me to go?” i hesitantly glanced back at him go see he was crouched so he was eye level, i swallowed thickly when i felt my clit pulse of his scent so close. I unconsciously shifted a little closer to him so i could feel the warmth radiating off of him. His eyes darkened as he looked at the outline of my body under the blankets

“perhaps i should stay” he whispered and reached a hand out to touch my cheek

“s..stay?” i questioned growing even more nervous, he nodded and leaned even closer to kiss the corner of my mouth, i could feel his breath mix with mine as he studied my face

“can i see you?” he asked as his fingers ran down my face and got a grip on the duvet ready to pull it down

“just a little bit” i uttered becoming a darker shade of pink. My body automatically tensed when he pulled the covers down to my hips, my knees were still against my chest so he couldn’t see my breasts. He pouted a little and tapped my knee

“just a glimpse sweetheart” he mumbled and i slowly pulled my legs down so he could see me better, he let a little groan out and trailed his fingertips to my nipples and circled them. I rolled onto my back and was more centre bed, he kicked his shoes off and got onto the mattress with me, he licked both his thumbs and index fingers before using them to roll my peaking nipples, his eyes stayed on mine as i kept my mouth welded shut so i wouldn’t embarrass myself in-front of him, my brows were pulled together and i bit my cheek when one hand moved south, he slowly pulled the duvet off to the side and breathed in deeply when he saw my thighs squeezed together

“oh love, if anyone’s to be embarrassed it’s me for not ravishing you sooner” he then placed both hands on my thighs and gently pushed them open so i could still stop him if i wanted to

“look how beautiful you are…” he was whispering and his eyes were trained on my heat as he brought his hand closer and his thumb barely skimmed my bundle of nerves but it still had me arching my back a little, i was still sensitive from touching myself just before so the lightest touch still sparked something inside me

he reached out and grabbed my hands and pulled them in between my legs

“show me sweetheart” i could feel my face heating up again and my heart racing as i hesitantly dipped two of my fingers into my dampness and then circled my clit

“relax y/n, you’re tense” i nodded and tried to calm my body. i gradually build up my pace until i was moving much faster on my nub, i then used my other hand to have two fingers inside of me, i could just reach my favourite spot when i curled them and i moaned out as i continued to hit into the sensational point within me. My eyes were shut tight and i’d sorta forgotten Klaus was actually there as i felt the overpowering burn aching to be let go and my fingertips hit the right area once twice, three more times before i came around my own fingers and the ones on my clit eventually came to a stop.

I closed my legs and let my body lay limp for a moment before i felt the bed move and i remembered who i was with. I quickly opened my eyes and sat up

“that was definitely something to keep in my mind forever love but i must say i felt left out…you didn’t say my name again” he pouted and gave my throat a little kiss and a nip. He then lifted me slightly so he was sat with me between his legs, he was leaning back against the headboard and pulled my back to his chest. His hands moved down and opened my legs again, his thumbs caressed my inner thighs as he smelled my hair

“do you picture someone else’s fingers inside of you instead of your tiny ones?” he questioned slowly inching closer to where i needed him. I nodded and spread my legs as far i could

“please” i whimpered my hands squeezing the sheets beneath us in anticipation

“whose hands?”

“your hands!” i huffed and i felt his lips press a kiss into my neck as his fingertips moved my wetness around making sure i was still stimulated enough, he then brought his middle finger just above my puffy clit and dragged it side to side, i groaned a little and pushed back against him

“what do you imagine love?”

i thought about it for a moment before carefully grabbing his wrists, i got his fingers soaked before pressing his hand against my sensitive clit once again while his others stroked my entrance, i bit the inside of my cheek again as he gently pinched my button before rubbing rhythmically

“how many do you want inside?” he mumbled with his face now in my neck

“just one for now…they’re bigger than mine” i swallowed nervously, he nodded and began gently sucking my neck as a finger sunk into me, i gasped as he went knuckle deep and curled it perfectly on the first try. My hips ground against his hands as he pumped his middle finger in and out slowly, still playing with my most sensitive part. His index joined his other one inside me and i felt myself stretch a little around them, i whimpered the first few times he moved them together but once adjusted it just got better. My head was thrown back while he sucked harsher to create marks down my throat

“is this what you think of love?” i nodded weakly as the tension started building up

“words sweetheart, how often?” i tried to think but my mind was clouded with him. His scent. His warmth. His mouth. His voice. His hands.

“often” i moaned when he lightly slapped my clit as i took too long to answer

“once a week?” he hummed, his pace becoming faster and then direction he moved on my clit changed making my back arch as much as i could and my hands gripped his arms

“more than that” i choked and my legs began to shake as i held my orgasm in

“every day?” he whispered behind my ear before sucking the spot

“some..sometimes yeah” he let out a low rumble and added another finger making me cry out and dig my nails into his forearms, my walls squeezed his fingers as they continued to dive much deeper than i could ever reach, brushing so many spots inside me i didn’t know how to respond.

“so fucking pretty like this love, gonna cum on my hand love?” i tightened more than i ever had around him as the tension broke and i gushed over his fingers, i let out panted moans and my body continued to rock against him. He slowly pulled his fingers out and brought them to his lips and sucking off the remains of my orgasm, i watched with my pupils blown and my mouth propped open. He groaned at the taste and wiped his fingers on his shirt before grabbing my face and kissing me forcefully, his tongue was instantly inside and i swallowed around it as he dominated my mouth. I turned over my body so i was straddling him while he kissed me, my hands gripped his henley and i whined against his lips as he pulled away and breathed deeply

“you will never need to touch yourself again do you understand? you come to me” i moaned quietly at his words and relaxed in his hold

“what if you’re busy?” i mumbled snuggling into his body heat as he led down with me on-top him and the covers pulled back up over us

“i’ll stop being busy” he replied simply and stroked my hair

“you’re mine now” he whispered but i couldn’t reply as i felt my eyes droop and my mind shut off into sleep

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tklpilled · 3 months

Text

heartbeat

(aether/xiao)

summary: aether has a date planned. it doesn't go as expected.

a/n: based on this prompt!! not sure how i feel about this one but i was craving xiaother

[this is a sfw tickle fic!!]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Aether’s never been on a proper date before. Honestly, he’s never even had a partner before, or…whatever he and Xiao are. He thinks it’s normal to be nervous, but he doesn’t want to be. He knows Xiao. It’s not like this is a first meeting or anything, right? Just a normal dinner together. With romantic feelings attached.

After kicking Paimon out and leaving her for Itto to babysit (which really just means Shinobu is babysitting them both), he began cooking. He spent the entire day before stressing over the decorations in his teapot home, wondering whether Xiao would like them, and while he’s still uncertain, there’s not much more he can do. He prepares practically an entire feast — grilled tiger fish, Adeptus’ Temptation, jade parcels, stir fry, and of course he tries his hand at almond tofu — anything he can think of that Xiao might like. So, maybe it’s a bit of an overkill, but at least Paimon will eat all the leftovers.

Xiao arrives at their planned meeting spot exactly on time, not a second early, not a second late. Aether perks up as soon as the familiar dark mist appears in front of him.

“You’re here!” he exclaims, jumping to his feet.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be?” asks Xiao, quirking an eyebrow.

Aether invites him into his teapot, where the sun sets over a table for two, surrounded by a variety of trees and flowers. He’s lit candles around the area, giving it a welcoming ambience.

“Oh, unless you’d rather be inside!” Aether quickly adds, gestures towards the mansion.

He thinks he sees a tiny smile appear on Xiao’s face. “This is fine.”

…So.

Ugh, Aether should have practiced for this.

They eat without saying much, aside from Xiao thanking him for the food with the occasional compliment, in his own Xiao-like way. It's somehow not overwhelmingly awkward — which isn't to say it's not awkward, but it's tolerable.

As he finishes his food, Aether's mind starts to wander. He hasn't planned anything aside from this. Will Xiao leave right away? Will he stay to talk? Probably not, he's not exactly social, but Aether can't think of anything to say and he absolutely can not have them sitting in complete silence for the rest of the night.

There's a squeeze on his knee and he yelps, kicking his leg out and accidentally banging it on the underside of the table. He looks up, embarrassed.

Xiao keeps his hand where it is. “Stop doing that,” he says, nodding at Aether's leg. It's only then that Aether notices just how violently he's been bouncing it.

“O-oh,” he stammers, nodding. “Sorry.”

He expects that to be the end of it, but Xiao gives him a curious look. He doesn't have time to question what it means before he feels another squeeze. His reaction this time isn't as dramatic, but it's still noticeable; he makes a surprised sound, his leg jerking once more.

“What’s wrong?” asks Xiao, leaning in close, which makes Aether squeak and nearly fall off his chair. “You aren’t injured, are you?”

Aether shakes his head frantically. “N-no, not that, it’s just ticklish! Nothing bad, you don’t have to—ack?!”

“I’m familiar with the term, I believe,” says Xiao, looking down at his hand, which has just squeezed again. “It’s something humans do with those they’re fond of, yes?”

“Um.” Aether can’t do much but stare at him, cheeks growing hotter by the second. He thinks he knows where this is going. Finally, he nods. “Y-yes, that’s right.”

“Then, traveler,” Xiao looks up, locking eyes with him, “why don’t we do it?”

Well, Aether has a hard time saying no to that face.

They end up inside the mansion, in the farthest room from the entrance. No one else is around, but Xiao locks the door behind them anyway. Aether almost feels trapped, but he doesn’t hate it.

“So,” Xiao starts, once he’s straddling Aether’s waist on the bed. “I simply…squeeze?” He accompanies his words with a pinch to Aether’s side.

The blond flinches. “W-well, it’s hard to explain…certain spots are more sensitive to certain methods.” He feels uncomfortable and embarrassed explaining tickling of all things, but Xiao listens intently and nods.

“I see,” he says. “Such as what?”

“Um, well,” Aether starts, shifting a little. “Like this?” He reaches out and places a hand on Xiao’s side, skittering his fingers up to his ribs.

Xiao stiffens, eyes widening slightly. “Right,” he says, his voice a little shaky.

“Or like this.” Aether starts to poke his fingers in the spaces between ribs, but his wrist is pulled away.

“I understand,” Xiao insists, cheeks flushed a little. Aether can’t help but laugh at the sight of someone so composed in such a state.

Xiao, to be frank, isn’t great at tickling. He’s inexperienced and hesitant, but Aether is ticklish enough to make up for it.

“If you’re so ticklish, why do you leave your stomach exposed?” Xiao asks, tracing his fingers along the bare skin. He’s getting better as he goes, seemingly fuelled by Aether’s reactions.

“I-it’s nohohot like I’m ahasking for ihihit!” Aether protests, trying his hardest to keep his hands out of the way. Xiao hasn’t restrained them, but he doesn’t want to make it stop just yet. Maybe he’s having a little bit of fun. Sue him.

“You clearly enjoy it, at least.” Xiao isn’t looking at Aether’s face, more focused on what his hands are doing. “You’re letting me do this.”

“Th-thahahat—Xiahahahao!” Aether squeals as a finger pokes his navel experimentally, before going back to dancing along his tummy. “Thahat’s because ihihit’s yohou!” He feels himself blushing as he admits it. He’s glad that at least Xiao doesn’t have much shame.

“I think it’s…rather cute,” Xiao admits. “I enjoy hearing you laugh.”

Aether makes an embarrassed whining sound. “L-lehehet me tickle yohou next tihihime! It’s ohonly fahair!” He's not sure what it is — a threat? A challenge? Either way, he plans to tickle Xiao one way or another, no matter how much the adeptus insists that he's not ticklish.

He can't worry about it now, though, because Xiao has just figured out that light touches work wonders, and it's absolutely awful. With anyone else, it's torture — but with Xiao, somehow, it feels like love.

#genshin #genshin impact #xiaother #xiao genshin #aether genshin #tickle fic #arty writes #lee!aether #ler!xiao #my fics

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pluckysidekick · 6 months

Text

Happy Wednesday, my Drewds! The SAG-AFTRA strike is over at midnight tonight! Today is the best day for Drewds since the series finale because our beloved Kennedy has promised us riches from her stash of behind the scenes content!

Then tomorrow or whenever we get the treasures she’s been keeping safe for us will be the best day!

Even better:

A LIVE! Get me the smelling salts. I’m emotional too, we missed you Kennedy! ❤️

Also thrilled the actors held out for a fair deal for everyone, and held the robots at bay for at least three years.

I’ll of course post all the BTS goodness here so we can squee together. And I won’t think about the fact that it’s the last stuff we might get 😭.

There IS the S4 DVD with gag reel set to release on November 14 in the US to look forward to (I’ve got it on pre-order).

Happy Wednesday, Drewds! 🎉

#nancy drew #nancy drew cw #nace #ace hardy #author: pluckysidekick #kennedy mcmann

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cherr-22 · 5 months

Text

TNGDH 31

“Demonic beasts that look like this can be boiled and eaten. The boiling takes a while, but it will be much better in terms of nutrition and warmth.”

The maids and knights gathered in a circle around me and took notes.

Fortunately, they nodded in understanding despite my crude explanation. They discussed what other demonic beasts could be eaten like this as well as what other kinds of stuffings they could use.

‘I think this is enough for explanations. The duck baeksuk should be done by now.’

I rubbed my sore shoulders and checked the system window that popped up.

[‘Summon’ will be canceled in 5 minutes.]

‘Looks like I won’t be able to taste test it.’

I told my goodbyes to the workers I became closer with and headed to the warehouse in the corner. As I went in and closed the door, I heard Kyle’s voice from a distance.

“You’re late.”

I smiled at his voice looking for me as the white light enveloped my body.

To live an hour like a day was tiring. I sighed on top of the sawdust.

I didn’t know how long I slept since I used ‘Summon’, but when I opened my eyes, Kyle was tearing pieces of duck baeksuk into my food bowl.

―Squeak. (What are you doing.)

“Sorry for waking you up. But this is good timing. Eat while it’s still warm.”

Kyle placed the bowl in front of me. I looked at the disheveled appearance of the baeksuk I made.

‘Hmm. It cooked well.’

Baeksuk should be boiled for a long time to be delicious.

I held the meat that Kyle shredded with both hands and took a bite.

The soft flesh with a greasy texture melted in my mouth. I think this tasted better than a regular duck. I wonder if it was because it had more exercise as a demonic beast?

As I mindlessly devoured the meat, Kyle gently stroked my forehead with his index finger and smiled happily.

“This food was invented by him. How did someone so brilliant come here?”

―Squeak squeak. (I came here by dying, man.)

“I have to return this favor properly, but I don’t know what would be good.”

―Squeak squee-, squeak. (Give me money. Money is best.)

I ate all the baeksuk with not a single leftover as Kyle contemplated seriously. Perhaps because of my small body, my stomach felt like it would explode after eating only a handful.

I stretched my arms out. Kyle watched me as if he thought I was the cutest thing in the world and put me onto his palm to carry me out the study.

“I don’t think I have been paying attention to you for a while, so let’s sleep together tonight.”

Kyle laid me down on a handkerchief beautifully embroidered with flowers. He then laid down next to me and stroked me endlessly.

Just when I thought I was going to become a hairless hamster, he ended up closing his eyes first.

‘He must’ve been very tired.’

Anyways, I wonder if his arm is okay?

I stood up and inspected Kyle’s arm. It was still covered in bandages, but he didn’t seem to have any major problems using the arm.

His tough hands were filled with numerous cuts. I massaged them hoping that they’d heal a bit more faster.

Be healthy.

You must be healthy for me to stop worrying.

The Northerners were quick to learn new things, as they were veterans who already had experience in making something from nothing but dry land.

They also had good adaptability. Not only were they already making the baeksuk I taught them yesterday, they were also finishing up making the parkas. Teaching felt very rewarding.

Today again, I boiled the duck and even made porridge in front of the knights who caught the duck. As a delicious smell filled the kitchen, the surrounding people began to crowd here.

“Oh…… wow. This… this is really delicious?”

“How could we have never thought about eating like this! It’s a lot better than frying, don’t you think?”

“Please cook like this from now on. Also here, you can eat it more deliciously if you scorch the rice.”

This was the kind of food the owner of my rented room in my past life liked. I once made it for them because I was indebted to them, but they ended up coming to me often to make it for them.

It should be delicious. I’ve been working part-time in a restaurant for years. I know how to cook most dishes decently, at least.

“I suppose you could use the leftover meat to make jerkies. Oh, and, continue to make quilted clothes with the duck feathers.”

I sat next to the maids who were sewing besides a basket full of the demonic beasts’ feathers. The maids greeted me warmly.

The welcoming atmosphere made me feel good.

‘How long has it been since I did something with others like this?’

I developed the game almost by myself, and after graduating from school, I had to leave my uncle’s house to become independent. After my parents passed away, I had no meaningful memories of being with other people. I was busy working part-time in college and taking classes.

‘I sure lived a boring life.’

I put the feathers between the fabric and moved the needle diligently.

The thickly sealed fabric could be used as clothing or as cushion. From afar, they looked like blankets.

I smiled happily and looked at the people around me.

Then, a system window blinked before my eyes.

[‘Summon’ will be canceled in 3 minutes]

“…….”

Already?

I jumped up from my seat. The attention of the people who were once chatting harmoniously suddenly focused onto me.

I laughed awkwardly and made an excuse.

“Something urgent came up, so I’ll be leaving first.”

“Already? You should stay a bit longer!”

“It’s quite important so…”

I turned around and was about to leave when―.

[You have opened up the possibility of a prosperous life for the residents of the Blake estate.]

[Hidden quest, ‘Godfather of the North’ achieved!]

[Miracle Value has increased.]

[Current Miracle Value 21.0%]

[A passive effect has been achieved. Anyone who is a member of the North will favor you.]

[The duration of ‘Summon’ has been extended.]

[‘Summon’ will be canceled in 62 minutes.]

The system windows popped up all at once, then disappeared without even having me a chance to touch it. Smiling with utmost satisfaction, I turned around and sat again.

“……Weren’t you going to go?”

“Oh. I was given extra time.”

One of the maids looked at me strangely and then suddenly turned back their head. I made a confused expression on my face upon seeing that and inserted the needle into the fabric once again.

But…… what was it. Was it just my imagination?

The other people who had been chatting before quieted down as if cold water was poured on them. Just like kids who played during the night study time and then pretended to study when the teacher came in……

At that time, a long shadow fell over my head.

“You guys sure look like you’re having fun.”

It was Kyle. So you were the culprit.

I tilted my head back and lifted the fabric I was working on. Then, I spoke in a calm voice.

“Would you like to do this too? Or do you not have this kind of dexterity.”

The surrounding remained silent. Kyle smiled lightly and supported my back. He put his arm around my knees and lifted them.

“Sure.”

“……No. Why are you lifting me up?”

“I’ll have to borrow you for a moment.”

“Why!?”

Kyle carried me away without answering me.

I felt discontent until I realized his destination. ……Are you serious? Is it the study? Why are you so obsessed with the study!?

‘System! Open the store, the store!’

[☆*:.。. o(≧▽≦)o .。.:*☆]

[!Nut Store!]

Forget the sparkly neon sign. I hit the Love Love Corner like a mad man with sweat falling down my forehead.

[╰（‵□′）╯]

Okay, okay. Next time I’ll press the button only once so hurry up.

[Love Love Corner~❤]

I chewed my nails nervously, looking back and forth between the study and the system window.

‘……So how many Hearts did I have again?’

Didn’t I use a lot last time?

[Currently Possessing Hearts ｜ ❤×52]

“…….”

I slapped my face.

From my memory, the replica hamster lasted 30 minutes and costed 100 hearts.

Alright. I admit this was karma. I shouldn’t have bought the damned hamster clothes and the yarn. This was why people have to save money in case of emergency.

I trembled, cursing my past self. Kyle looked down with a puzzled face and asked, “Are you hurting anywhere?”, but I just shook my head.

Let’s calm down.

There may be a way out of this predicament.

[Replica hamster to soothe the loneliness (Duration : 30 minutes) ｜ ❤×100]

The purchasable items were in blue, and the non-purchasable ones were gray. Of course, the replica hamster was colored gray.

Now. Let’s make it half the price just for today. 50 Hearts for 15 minutes. How’s that? You could adjust it right?

[ಠ﹏ಠ]

It was a difficult expression.

I smiled nicely and started rambling to the system.

‘Think about it. It’s your loss if I get caught.’

I don’t know why you are even helping me, but isn’t it because there’s a benefit to it? Whether it’s Miracle Points or Hearts, wouldn’t it be good if I were to spend more?

[￣へ￣]

Truly a disappointing response.

Then what else could I do. I’ll have to change my methods.

I licked my lips and smiled softly. When persuading someone, impressions were important. Wasn’t there a saying that you can’t spit on a smiling face?

So I clasped both my hands together with a bright smile on my face and muttered softly.

‘Would it be faster for me to bash the button and break the store, or would it be faster for you to give me a discount?’

[(°▽°)]

The system paused for a moment as if it were thinking and let out a [……Loading……] window before opening the renewed shop.

I waved away a series of dissatisfied emotes. Those weren’t important right now. I was in a hurry.

While I was looking for the replica hamster, Kyle has already arrived in front of the study. Luckily, I made it on time.

[‘Replica hamster to soothe the loneliness’ has been added to your inventory!]

I felt a sense of relief and looked up. I made eye contact with Kyle.

“……Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Your expressions were amusing, so I was wondering what you were thinking.”

“…….”

I opened and closed my mouth without being able to say anything back, and in the end just let out a cough.

Kyle was about to say something, but someone passed by and bowed to him. Seeing his clothes and the book in his hands, he seemed to be a magician.

“Tomorrow afternoon, I will come see you in the study, Your Highness.”

“Alright.”

Hm? Why are they meeting tomorrow? What is it? Magician?

I fixed my gaze at Kyle hoping to receive an explanation from him. He opened the door using his shoulder and entered the study room.

“Cashew hasn’t been growing much lately, so I asked a magician to take a look at it. I can use magic myself, but I am not skilled enough to fine-tune the details or to see others’ magic. It would be best to leave this to the experts.”

“……Oh. Oooh.”

If my life were a rollercoaster, the only path it would go was downwards. No, rather than a rollercoaster, this was more like a bungee jump. A jump with its rope cut off.

How could you do this to me?

I wanted to say that it would grow on its own even if it wasn’t injected with mana…… should I say that to him now? No, no. It would be suspicious if I told him this late.

‘Hey. System. Would it be alright for me to accept the mana into my body? Will anything happen?’

[¯_(‘0’)_/¯]

……Understood. So you don’t know anything either.

I got down from his arms, sighed, and carefully placed the replica hamster into the nest.

I don’t know anymore. What happens, happens. It’s already difficult for me to solve the misfortune in front of me right now.

“Now, where is our demonic beast.”

As I pretended to look for the hamster carelessly, Kyle came over and grabbed my hand that was scrambling through the sawdust.

“Didn’t you say it would get surprised if you searched for it like that.”

“Ah, yes…….”

Kyle gently held the crying replica hamster in his hands and inspected it for a while. This needlessly sharp bastard.

I praised the replica hamster excessively to redirect Kyle’s attention. Wow! Our demonic beast! Wow! You squeak so well!

Fortunately, I was able to have him sit down for tea before 15 minutes passed. I also gave him needles and fabric to teach him how to make quilts.

Please spend your time with this from now on. Don’t bother the hamster for no reason.

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#tngdh

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