#trim reblogs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has a low social media market share in South America.

rpschtuff · 1 year

Text

What is going on with cutting posts?

You may have seen some posts floating around lately about the beta editor and trimming reblogs, and possibly found yourself extremely confused trying to figure out what this tangled web of editors, extensions, and add-ons even means. I’ve been on this site for years, and I still find the whole thing terribly confusing.

So this post is my effort to explain everything -- legacy vs beta, New XKit vs XKit Rewritten, editable reblogs vs trim reblogs -- everything. This also doubles as a tutorial for the various methods of cutting posts.

TL;DR

Tumblr is in the process of switching to a new post editor that some old users have opted into, while new users have been forced into it.

The old Editable Reblogs extension does not work with this new editor, requiring people to use a new extension called Trim Reblogs.

Trim Reblogs and Editable Reblogs are not compatible. If your partner uses Editable Reblogs, you cannot cut their posts properly using Trim Reblogs (unless you’re willing to do some tedious and frankly unreasonable workarounds).

The only way for everyone in the RPC to cut their posts properly and efficiently is if everyone moves to the new system and uses Trim Reblogs. Clinging to the old system with Editable Reblogs is actively creating issues for the people using the new system -- some of whom do not have a choice.

Cutting Posts

Cutting posts is the act of removing older replies on a thread when reblogging it. This goes by several other terms, including trimming replies/reblogs or any variation of that wording, but I will be referring to it as cutting posts to avoid confusion with the Trim Reblogs extension, which will be coming up a lot.

Typically, when cutting a post, you only keep your latest reply and the reply from your partner that immediately precedes it. This means that instead of a thread looking like this...

It would like this:

Or like this, depending on the method used:

In either case, the first post is gone while the second and third post remain.

Cutting posts is done so that threads aren’t all extremely long on the dashboard. When there’s three short replies like this sample, it’s not that bad. But imagine a thread with twenty replies where each is several paragraphs long. That would require people to scroll and scroll and scroll to get past it. And since the same thread would be reblogged multiple times, your dash might become the same posts, over and over and over again, with only one new addition at the end each time.

Cutting posts is extremely common Tumblr RP etiquette. Many people won’t follow you if you don’t regularly cut replies, due to how irritating the alternative is.

Copy and Paste (Outdated)

Once upon a time, you used to be able to cut replies without any kind of extensions. Unfortunately, those days are gone.

That method worked as follows. You would go to reblog as usual...

Copy and paste the last reply, putting it in a blockquote (or using any other formatting you like, really), then add your own reply underneath.

Then you can simply hover over the older replies and click the red X in order to remove them.

And this used to work. But now, the very first post in a thread cannot be deleted -- only later reblogs can. This means that the first post will always stay above the others, no matter how far along in the thread you are.

So since cutting posts can’t be done normally, we have to rely on browser extensions. This is where things get complicated. And also where I need to explain the different editors.

Legacy vs Beta Editor

Every time you make or reblog a post, you are using Tumblr’s post editor to do so. This is the area where you type up your post, add images, etc. Tumblr has been using the same editor for several years now, and it’s called the legacy editor.

However, Tumblr has been slowly rolling out a new text editor, called the beta editor. You may remember the beta editor when it was first rolled out a couple years ago as a buggy, unstable mess -- that’s not the case anymore, and it’s no more buggy than the current editor. For text posts, it’s functionally pretty similar, and even has a few features that some of you might want, such as easy colored text and the ability to make posts non-rebloggable. (Photo and other posts are fairly different, and I know gif makers have some pretty understandable reservations and complaints about it, but I won’t be covering that here.)

Older users have the option to toggle between the legacy and beta editors at will, while new users (starting around November/December 2022) are locked into the beta editor and cannot switch back to legacy.

To check which editor you have, go to make a new text post and look in the top right corner.

If you see either of these:

You are using the legacy editor, with the option to switch between the two.

If you see this:

You are using the beta editor, with the option to switch between the two.

If you don’t see anything at all, you are using the beta editor, and cannot switch.

While the text interface of the two editors isn’t terribly different for roleplay purposes, the methods by which you need to trim reblogs are entirely different. Each requires a different extension -- specifically, a different version of XKit.

XKit

XKit is a browser extension designed to add features and functionality to Tumblr. It includes many quality of life features such as a mutual checker, better tag tracking, queue improvements, ad blocking, more detailed timestamps, and so much more. (It was preceded by a similar extension called Missing E, if you’ve been here long enough to remember that.) And among all of these many features is the ability to cut replies.

The original XKit is no longer in use, having stopped updates in 2015 and being entirely unusable now. However, a few new versions of XKit have popped up throughout the years.

New XKit & Editable Reblogs

A different team created New XKit as a successor to the original, a similar extension designed to restore many of the same features.

New XKit’s feature to cut posts is called Editable Reblogs. It works by adding a pencil button to the left of the post when you reblog.

Clicking that button will break the post’s formatting -- actually changing it to how Tumblr posts used to be formatted -- but allow it to be edited however you wish.

So in this instance, I could simply select the first reply and delete it before adding my new reply underneath.

Editable Reblogs is only available if you use the legacy editor. It does not work with the beta editor and does not even appear as an option.

XKit Rewritten & Trim Reblogs

In 2020, Tumblr began to roll out its updated dashboard, which is now permanently in effect for all users. While the new interface looks very similar, the code was actually entirely redone, and behind the scenes functions very differently from the older dashboard. As a result, some of New XKit’s features no longer work as intended -- though a few still do, such as Editable Reblogs.

In response, the New XKit team decided to similarly start from scratch and created XKit Rewritten, another iteration of the add-on with similar features once more. However, not all New XKit features are available on XKit Rewritten, and vice versa. Many people are running both extensions simultaneously to take advantage of features on both.

XKit Rewritten’s feature to cut posts is called Trim Reblogs, and it works completely differently than Editable Reblogs. With this, you first need to save the thread to your drafts with your reply already written.

You’ll see a scissors icon appear along the bottom of the post. Clicking that will open the trimming options, letting you select which previous reblogs to delete.

Clicking Trim will remove the selected reblogs.

You can then click post. You’ll note that this method preserves Tumblr’s formatting, as opposed to Editable Reblogs, which breaks it.

EDITED TO ADD: Apparently you don’t need to already have your reply written in your drafts anymore. You can save the post to your drafts without adding anything, use trim reblogs, then edit the post to add your reply. Either works fine.

This method does have two major issues, though. First, if the first post of a thread was created in the legacy editor, then the system gets really buggy and just doesn’t work.

This is what happened when I tried it out. Initially, it seemed to work as expected.

However, when I posted the reply, or simply refreshed my drafts, this happened.

Attempting to trim again simply caused this to repeat. There is no fix for this. This means that for this method to work, both you and your partners need to be using the beta editor.

EDITED TO ADD: You can fix this double posting by either using trim reblogs before adding your reply, or by adding your reply, using trim reblogs as intended, refreshing your drafts, editing the post, and clicking the red X to remove the first of the double postings. I have a better guide here.

The only other alternative is to move the thread to a fresh post when you reply, so that the new first post was made with the beta editor. Then you can cut future reblogs of the post using Trim Reblogs as normal.

However, the other major issue is that if your partner uses Editable Reblogs, you cannot use Trim Reblogs as intended. Let me show you why.

Say I want to reply to this post.

I’ll add my reply and save it to my drafts, as before.

You may have spotted the issue already. The first and second replies are now “combined” so that Tumblr sees them as a single post. We want the post to be interpreted like this, so that I can remove the oldest reply while still keeping the one immediately prior to mine.

But Trim Reblogs can only see it like this.

When I go to trim reblogs, I can only remove the previous replies as an entire unit. I can’t remove just the oldest reply and keep the one immediately prior -- either it all stays or it all goes.

This is admittedly better than nothing. However, most people do want to keep their partner’s previous reply for reference, and just to have on their blog. This means a lot of people using Trim Reblogs simply don’t cut their partner’s posts at all.

You might be able to get around this issue by combining it with the outdated cut and paste method I described above. When saving to your drafts, paste your partner’s last reply above your own, using a blockquote or whatever formatting you like to separate the two.

You can then use Trim Reblogs to remove the first post, leaving only your copy pasted reply. The formatting is broken, but it’s at least workable.

However, this will only work if the very first post of the thread was made with the beta editor -- since people using Editable Reblogs have to be using the legacy editor, you’re likely to still run into issues on a lot of posts. Which can again be solved by moving the thread to a fresh post made with the beta editor, but at this point we’re stacking so many issues on top of each other that I really can’t blame you if you just don’t want to bother with any of them.

All of this brings me to...

It’s time for the RPC to collectively switch to the new system

I’ve stuck to the legacy editor myself due to the issues described above -- using Trim Reblogs when everyone else still uses Editable Reblogs is an enormous pain that I don’t want to deal with. Even as I make this post advocating for people to switch, I’m dreading actually doing it, because I know that most of my partners still use the old system and I will have nothing but headaches.

But the thing is, everyone refusing to switch is what’s creating the headaches in the first place. If we all moved to the new system together, these issues would simply disappear, and we would all be able to effortlessly cut our posts using Trim Reblogs without ever having to worry about it again.

The RPC needs to collectively make the switch, for two reasons.

First, Tumblr is going to switch everyone to beta eventually. Refusing to switch now is really just delaying the inevitable -- it’s not a question of if you’re going to be forced into the new system, but when. By switching now, you can go ahead and get used to it and start giving feedback to both Tumblr and the XKit Rewritten team if you find anything buggy or broken.

Second, as I said above, new users are locked into beta, with no option to switch back to legacy. Trim Reblogs is their only option for cutting posts -- and as long as most of their partners are using Editable Reblogs instead, they cannot cut their posts properly. Their only option is to use a series of increasingly ridiculous workarounds that most people won’t understand. The fact that it took me 1500 words just to explain everything should tell you how confusing the whole thing is -- you can’t be that surprised when a lot of people, upon realizing that they can’t cut posts without a whole lot of tedium, decide to just not bother cutting them at all. The best way for everyone to be able to cut their posts properly and efficiently is for everyone to be on the same system.

Yes, the beta editor is different. It has some weird quirks. It will be a bit of a learning curve to get used to a new system of replying to threads. But this is a change that’s going to happen eventually, and is a change that needs to happen for a lot of people to able to cut their posts properly.

(It’s also worth noting that -- assuming you still have the option to switch -- you may be able to toggle between the two systems during the adjustment period. I haven’t been able to test this yet, but I see no reason it wouldn’t work. Use Trim Reblogs whenever possible, and especially for the partners that have already made the switch. But when you get to a reply that it just won’t work for, toggle back to the legacy editor and use Editable Reblogs just for that thread. It’s a bit annoying, but it could be the middle ground needed to help people start making the switch. And once the majority of the RPC is on the new system, then this won’t be an issue anymore.)

#rph #rpt #rpc #editable reblogs #trim reblogs #*my stuff #*my tutorials #this started as a tutorial for cutting posts and led into something else lmao #beta editor

2K notes · View notes

heartxshaped-bruises · 1 year

Text

✧･ﾟ A short and easy workaround for Reblogs with Beta & XKit Rewritten

Disclaimer: This also seems to work with old Legacy-Threads when reblogging with the new Beta-Editor bc XKit Rewritten doesn’t work with Legacy. The whole trimming order and process of both combined can be confusing, but it’s important so the post doesn’t get fucked up. So technically, it's also helpful for Beta-Reblogging in general. (video below)

SO, IF YOU WANT TO AVOID DOUBLE-POSTING of your own reblog, do the following:

Hit reblog (make sure you’re using Beta).

Enter reply, whatever.

Safe to drafts.

Remove the first post with Trim Reblogs.

Safe.

Refresh drafts.

Remove your own reply that now shows twice with the Beta-Editor. You will only have one option to remove here, so that makes it easy.

Refresh.

Tadaaa.

In this way you can preserve your partner's reply if you want to, since the blockquote-format won't work like that anymore. So hopefully, reblogs with the Beta-Editor & XKit Rewritten should be easier now for you and your partners without having to move your whole Legacy-Thread to a new post after this measure. I am very nostalgic over my old stuff, so that's a reason why I don't want to do it. If you have additions or experience possible errors, feel free to add them.

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS WILL ONLY WORK if your partner reblogged their response without any XKit-Extension. Just a plain reblog.

#rph #rpc #beta #editable reblogs #trim reblogs #xkit rewritten #new xkit #legacy editor #tutorial #*mine: edits #[ I just needed a short guide for my horrible brain ]#[ just short; no additional info ]#[ just wanted the essentials to get rid of the double reply issue ]#[ maybe it helps you too ]

457 notes · View notes

steadfvsthearts · 5 months

Text

Tutorial: Cutting Posts in the Beta Editor

hello everyone !! i am certainly not the only person to write a tutorial like this, but i'd thought i'd try my hand at writing one. this tutorial covers how to cut your replies in the beta editor using xkit rewritten, as well as how to remove those pesky gif source links. read on for the tutorial !!

keywords: beta editor, xkit rewritten, cutting posts, trim reblogs written 12.09.2023.

Step 1: xkit rewritten

the beta editor requires a new browser extension completely different from the previous xkit ( the one that showed in your tumblr settings ) called xkit rewritten. if you have not done so already, go ahead and install xkit rewritten for chrome or firefox.

xkit rewritten shows in your browser task bar along with your other extensions. i like to pin mine to always show. it is through here that you control all the settings.

Step 2: enable "trim reblogs"

the setting in xkit rewritten that will enable you to cut posts is called "trim reblogs". to turn it on, click the extension icon. a menu will pop up where you can toggle on and off various settings. scroll until you see "trim reblogs" and toggle it on.

you can check this is properly enabled by going to your blog page and looking at any post you've made. at the bottom of the post with the editing, reblog, and like options, there should now be a scissors icon which is the trim reblogs option !!

Step 3: cutting/trimming replies

we are now ready to write and trim a reply !!

Step 3a: write and draft or queue/schedule your reply

write your reply below the other two previous replies.

you do not need to copy or paste anything from the previous replies. simply write your reply in the editing space and put in your gif or icon if desired. when you are done, draft or queue/schedule your post.

**note: as someone who doesn't draft replies first, i'm partial to scheduling the post for a few minutes in the future as a popup like the one below shows at the bottom of the screen when you do this. you can click this pop up to take you directly to the post in your queue which just cuts out having to manually navigate to your drafts or queue.

Step 3b: trim your post !!

navigate to your drafts or queue and find your post. scroll to the bottom of the post and click the scissors icon. this is the trim reblogs icon.

you will see the following pop up. the checked box is the reply that will be removed. classically, the first box is the one you want checked as you are removing your old reply.

make sure the correct reply is checked, then click trim !! you will now see the post has been trimmed to just the proper two replies.

that's all !! you are now ready to post.

**note: if you forget to draft or schedule your post, you can trim reblogs directly on the dash too !!

Bonus: getting rid of the gif source link

if you are seeing the source link show beneath your gif like above, there is an easy way to get rid of it! in the post editor, hover over the gif and click the link icon:

delete the text in this field and click done !! that's all !!

this concludes this tutorial !! one last note : if you are an android user, you are also able to use xkit rewritten to cut posts while mobile. for a more detailed tutorial on how to set that up, see here. please consider giving this a like and/reblog if you found it helpful !! happy rping !!

#rph #cutting posts #trim reblogs #rp tutorial #beta editor #;; mine

35 notes · View notes

helreginn · 7 months

Text

pastelchosen

“I- Thor? As in.. God of Thunder Thor?! THE Thor?!” Cue his eyes widening, both in shock and in… a pure, unadulterated fanboy moment. “Never in my entire lifetime did I ever see this coming… probably should have, considering… well, my family..” @pastelchosen

Hel rose her eyebrows at his sudden and unexpected excitement, "..He's literally just a guy, Sham." God, Prince, Thunder.. A guy. Her priorities and conception of the preternatural may be the tiniest bit skewed.

#Nah sorry. I tried. Can't do it.#They won't even let me trim ask reblogs now.#It's a lose lose.#LMAOOOOO #Not the Thor fanboy!!!#Oh Hel is so gonna tell him later!#Be like #Hey so I have this frend. He is also kinda my step dad #would you maybe want to come to a cookout or something so he can meet you?#.#hahaha #pastelchosen

60 notes · View notes

froggi-mushroom · 12 days

Text

“Don’t be mean to them creatives need to fund their creative endeavours!”

If Sorted Food, a channel with a similar sized, if not smaller, fanbase and production quality can pump out good quality videos on a regular basis and not shill out to solely put their content behind a paywall and fund their channel through their app and selling tickets and access to special recordings and live events then Watcher can too.

#not a reblog for once #froggi rambles #watcher #it’s not ‘feeding hungry artists’ it’s greed it’s sheer greed #if they can do it easily then Watcher can too #dunno if this is an obscure comparison cuz idk how big they are outside of the UK #but I love and respect sortedfood btw #even more so cuz they- as people with families to feed- have more of an incentive to be greedy but just don’t #they have an actual reason to need more money compared to watcher but we still get regular good quality videos and all the trimmings

10 notes · View notes

sadfruittheatre-rp · 7 months

Text

@dragonballnewstar // continued from here

"Oh, I didn't know they were having an event..."

He hesitates for a moment, this time because he's not really sure he's in the mood to do anything resembling work, but he knows deep down that just wallowing in his misery isn't going to do him any good. He decides to take her hand and pull himself up.

"...I'll help you. It's probably... better if I stay productive, anyway. What exactly do you need me to do?"

#dragonballnewstar #((oogh yeah i see why people do this now))#((xkit was not kidding trimming asks /does/ get really broken on themes lmao))#((haha can you tell i haven't rped on tumblr since they first changed the way reblog chains were formatted lmao))

25 notes · View notes

mettleborn · 4 months

Text

I haven't written anything in about a year and frankly I can't even remember how to cut a post and don't yet know how to use all the new settings Tumblr has thought to needlessly introduce...anyways...I need to find a gentle way to get back into this and stir up some muse so I'm going to write and post a few short open starters today, anyone who is around and fancies a bit of back and forth today and tomorrow, please feel free to respond. Feel free to request something too!

I plan to post something for Sam's assassin verse, something for Igor's main verse (Russian mafia) and maybe something for Duncan. Even if no one is around / replies, it will still be good to see if I can find my muses again.

#ooc post #I really miss writing and weirdly listening to Doja Cat today gave me major vibes for writing Igor #It's hard to get back into it in so long so I just need to write something at this stage even if its crap ha ha #Okay...I take it back Tumblr...I've just read there's a trim reblogs function now...so useful...if it works properly

8 notes · View notes

glacierfront · 9 months

Text

(from here) An incredibly long silence.

Then: "—Go buy the tickets to your fucking. Thing. The stupid family thing or whatever. I'm gonna fall asleep on purpose."

#whinedarksea #ic #ic: main.#arc: four.#a singular depression.... why does trim reblog forsake me

20 notes · View notes

bosspigeon · 10 months

Text

some strange kind of euphoria

Rating: M Words: 6230 Pairing: Amir x MC Warnings: references to past homophobia, bullying, and emotional abuse, panic attacks, implications of kink, general horny content Ko-Fi <3

Amir answers the door wearing nothing more than his gauzy dressing gown and a smile, which drops as soon as he sees the look on Jude’s face.

In Jude’s defense, seeing Amir at all brightens him up a bit, but even offering his own smile doesn’t quite feel right. He’s tense, slouching, and he knows his sour mood is broadcasting loud and clear in more than just his expression and posture.

His face feels brittle, but so does the rest of him. “Can I come in?” he asks, wincing at the way his voice cracks.

He shouldn’t have come at all. He should have just… called Amir and asked for a rain check, but Amir penciled out this time for him, when he’s always so busy, he couldn’t just bail. He’s starting to think he should have anyway to save them both the discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, swallowing and backing away from the door while Amir stares him down, quietly assessing. “I shouldn’t have–”

“Did the doorman give you trouble?” Amir snaps, eyes blazing. Heat prickles along Jude’s skin, the temperature in the hall rising abruptly.

“Wh– No, he– Well–” He didn’t give him any trouble, per se, he knows Jude well enough by now as Amir’s guest that he didn’t say anything– just gave him the usual quietly critical once-over he does whenever Jude shows up on his own without Amir to shield him. It usually doesn’t bother him overmuch, but he’s… a bit more of a raw nerve than he usually is. Maybe more of an open wound.

“No,” Amir says slowly, calming down quickly as he examines the human. “Something happened.”

“Nothing serious,” Jude assures him, and he doesn’t resist as Amir tugs him inside. The hand curling around his wrist is soft and too-warm, and something in his body eases at the simple touch. “I just… had dinner with my family, is all.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and the silence that follows is tense and weighted.

“...It didn’t go well, I take it?” Amir offers, his voice carefully neutral, his fingers tightening briefly around Jude’s wrist and then relaxing.

Jude can’t help but laugh, a single sharp bark that he stifles as quickly as he can. “‘Bout as well as could be expected,” he mumbles. He’s not sure what else to say beyond that, there’s so much tangled up in his head, in his chest, his whole body is tense and heavy with it.

He wishes he’d thought to change before he showed up. The crisp button-down and pressed slacks are uncomfortably formal, fitting too closely around his shoulders, at his waist. He feels stiff and stifled and… not like himself.

He’s sure Amir notices. Amir notices everything.

He leads Jude to the sofa and urges him to sit. He sinks into it with a grateful sigh, releasing as much of the tension in his body he's able to without medical or chemical assistance. Amir settles in next to him, curling close, and immediately starts plucking at the buttons of his shirt.

Jude huffs out another weak little laugh, lolling his head back against the cushions and watching those long, graceful fingers work.

“Talk to me, darling,” Amir says, slipping his hand under the fabric to rest against Jude's chest. The heat of his hand is comforting in its familiarity, lighting up his skin and settling his nerves. There’s a silky weight pressing at the edge of his thoughts, a presence that he’s grown used to at this point, warm like a physical touch. He’s not sure Amir’s even doing it on purpose, but it doesn't really matter.

"Mom asked if I was seeing anyone." It hangs between them for a long moment, before he manages to eke out, "She… didn't mean to."

She's never asked. Not him, at least. She's asked his brothers, his cousins, the kids of friends of hers or Dad's, but never Jude. She knows better than to ask questions she doesn't want the answer to.

He tries to elaborate, but when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out, like the words are stuck behind a barrier, like there’s a big blinking roadblock between his brain and his mouth. He wants to laugh. He wants to cry.

He’s so tired of talking, and even if he doesn't really need to say much of anything out loud with Amir, he's just so frustrated, like he wasted all his words on people who didn’t even care to listen. He groans and covers his face with his hands.

Amir's slide over them, tugging them away so Jude can't hide from him. "That’s fine. You don’t need to talk." He smiles a sly little smile that always makes Jude's pulse race, kisses his knuckles, and slips off the couch, taking his warmth with him. "I'll make tea, you get comfortable."

It takes a few seconds for Jude to catch on, his head is such a mess, but he feels the familiar whisper of Amir's power twining through his thoughts. Oh.

They've done this before, more than once, when Amir's asked about fantasies of his and he was too embarrassed to say them aloud. It took some practice, but Amir has always been careful, never probed too deeply, and never without Jude's express permission.

He focuses on the pleasant background noise of Amir moving around his kitchen, the gentle thrum of his presence at the edge of his thoughts, and tries to put them in order.

Dinner was… awkward, to say the least, from the start. Jude isn't a talker, never really has been, so it was mostly him listening to his brothers ramble. Seth's youngest is starting middle school. Gabe got a promotion.

Seth asked what he’d been up to, not that he cared. Gabe snorted when he asked, which only proved the point. Jude just mumbled something about work and avoided eye contact. Played with his food. Wondered if his hometown had anything like the things he’d found out living in the city miles away. The conversation moved on without him, like it always did.

His brothers stopped picking on him about the same time he hit a growth spurt and outstripped both of them in height and not just weight. Well, they hadn’t stopped, exactly, just… didn’t push their luck like they used to. Like they did when they caught him sitting happily while their cousin, Lacey, put makeup on him as "practice" for cosmetology school. Like they did whenever his hair got long enough for them to to pull, before Dad got sick of him “looking like a girl” and shaved it off.

"I've got three boys, not two boys and whatever the hell you're tryin' to be."

And then Jude got bigger than him too, and he left him mostly to his own devices. Not without those snide comments here and there, but he was well used to it at that point.

His family is good at ignoring things that upset them–once they've stifled the offending party into silence, of course.

Jude came out when he was a teenager. His mother wept like someone had died. His father looked furious, but bit his tongue–though he spent the next few years making little digs about how lucky Jude was he didn't just kick him out to fend for himself. His brothers weren’t there, but they found out ;ater, and though they couldn't do anything to him physically at that point (head and shoulders taller and nearly twice as broad–and the Marlowe boys all took after their father in stature, Jude just took it further than that) they made sure he knew he was still their punching bag one way or another.

So when his mother asked him innocently, not thinking, hardly looking at him so much as smiling glibly at her family, and they both froze… well, it said more than if Jude had just out and told them he was getting railed by a demon on the regular.

At least he's not like those fairy boys. At least it's not in our faces. At least, at least, at least–

He hates that he still feels guilty. Guilty for ruining his mother's picture-perfect family. Guilty for being a consummate disappointment to his red-blooded American father. For taking his brothers' "friendly teasing" too personally. For missing the way he felt when Lacey put makeup on him and styled his hair and just let him want the things he could never admit to out loud.

For feeling bitter that she left him behind to pursue her own dreams while he was stuck cowering in the shadow cast by everything he was supposed to be.

He doesn't realize he's hyperventilating until Amir's hands, almost scalding hot against his clammy skin, are pressing against his cheeks, tipping his face upwards. He can’t figure out why the demon is so blurry, swimming before his eyes, when he’s too busy trying to remember how to get air into his lungs.

“Breathe, darling,” Amir urges him, firm but so gentle. Jude tries, and at first he only manages a few pathetic wheezes, but a low hum picks up at the base of his skull, a prickle like static skittering down his spine. For a split second, he’s paralyzed by a foreign surge of guilt, but it doesn’t feel heavy the way his own guilt does.

He sucks in a breath, one that makes his lungs burn, and grabs for Amir’s wrist with trembling fingers. “Not you,” he manages to strangle out, listing forward until he can bury his face in the crook of Amir’s neck. “Happens sometimes,” he mumbles in an effort to explain. Amir’s relief settles over him like a blanket, and he clings to it, to him, desperately, until he’s breathing again mostly normally.

He opens his mouth to apologize, but Amir cuts him off before he can even form the words.“None of that." Firm, brooking no argument, but still kindly tempered.

Obediently, Jude stays quiet, and Amir strokes his hair until the kettle chimes.

Rather than parting from him for even the short time it takes to prepare two cups of tea, Jude follows Amir to the kitchen, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, cheek pressed to his silky hair. His thoughts are staticky and nonlinear, feel like they're coming from somewhere beyond the boundaries of his skull. It's strangely peaceful, feeling like he's floating outside his body, like he's barely tethered to himself by just a few fragile threads.

Amir always smells so nice…

He's not sure when they wind up back on the sofa but he's holding a warm, delicate little cup in both hands. They share tea in easy silence, and if Jude's fingers are still trembling against his cup Amir doesn't mention it. Muzzily, he notes how fancy the cup is, and now that he's adjusted a bit to the staggering opulence of Amir's world, he finds the little things like that so endearing.

Jude is sluggish and heavy when Amir guides him to bed, and it doesn't take long at all for him to doze off, their positions from earlier reversed, with Amir curled around his back.

He's just awake enough to feel a little bit of that fire humming along his spine, the banked coals of Amir's temper pulsing between them, and he mumbles a half-hearted, "Please don't fight my family," into the luxuriously soft pillow smushed against his cheek.

There's a bit of a huff against his hair, something close to a laugh, but sleep finally pulls him under and blessedly quiets his overworked mind.

His dreams are washed over with a filter of wispy pink, but he doesn’t really remember much of them beyond that. Honestly, it's a bit of a relief. He wakes in Amir’s huge, soft bed, buried in plush pillows and blankets feeling surprisingly well-rested. Of course Amir is gone already, but Jude doesn’t take it personally. There’s a hurried little note on the nightstand on a scrap of sketchbook paper apologizing for his absence and assuring Jude they’ll meet again in the evening once he’s free of his responsibilities.

Jude tucks the note into his pocket as he dresses and leaves, feeling much lighter than he did when he arrived the night before.

~*~

He tried to get as much of the grime off his hands as he could before he left work, but Jude knows he looks like even more of a greasy schlub than he usually does when he comes ambling into Amir’s building. He brought his car this time, so he doesn’t have to go through the main entrance and deal with anybody grimacing at the state of his clothes, but he’s got a bag of fresh ones over his shoulder and he’s looking forward to a long, hot soak in Amir’s shower.

“I know, I reek,” he says sheepishly when he makes it to the door to Amir’s apartment.

Amir smiles indulgently at him, and gives him a kiss on the cheek regardless (even if he has to rise onto his toes a bit to do it, dressed down like he is) and only scrunches his nose a little. “Just a bit. I wouldn’t mind the sweat so much, but…”

“Engine oil and cheap cigarettes,” Jude laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, my boss likes menthols.” He gestures to the bathroom with his bag. “Mind if I…?”

Amir doesn’t hesitate to usher him down the hall as soon as he’s tugged off his boots at the door, and Jude plods along after him.

“I’d offer to wash your back,” Amir teases, watching Jude intently as he undresses, making a show of biting at his knuckle just to see him blush from his ears to his chest, “but I’ve got a few more things to take care of. Shouldn't take long, I'll be right outside.”

"Y-yeah, of course," Jude stutters, hands fumbling at his belt. Amir leaves him with another peck on the cheek and a sly parting smile, and while he was hoping for a nice hot shower after work, he's debating whether or not a cold one might be a better idea.

In the end, hot wins out. Amir's shower is like everything else in his orbit—spacious and ridiculously opulent to a degree that Jude's almost nervous interacting with it—but he's starting to enjoy the perks that come with drifting into that irresistible orbit himself. The water is just the right temperature, the pressure pounds down on his tight shoulders and back until he can finally feel them starting to un-knot themselves, and while he makes sure to get himself clean, he also spends a long while just standing under the spray with his head down and his hair hanging around his face like a wet curtain.

At some point, he hears the door click, some quiet rustling, but he doesn't pay it much attention. It's Amir's home, after all, he can come and go as he pleases.

Besides, it's not as if he hasn't seen Jude naked before, even if the thought still has heat crawling up his neck.

The door shuts again, and his mind goes blessedly quiet. The water doesn't go cold at any point (another thing that makes showering in his own too-small bathroom even more of a downgrade) but he knows he can't spend the whole night in here, however much he'd like to. He came for Amir, not his shower, though a little part of his brain does offer the helpful suggestion of trying to entice the succubus into joining him.

He snorts to himself as he slides open the frosted glass door, wringing out his hair. As if any attempt of his to be enticing towards someone like Amir, who drips easy sensuality in every breath he takes, would result in anything more than Jude falling all over himself like an idiot.

At least Amir finds it cute.

He reaches for a towel and steps out onto the plush bath mat, and stops short when he looks around the bathroom and doesn't see his bag.

Instead, sitting on the vanity in place of his ratty canvas backpack, is a shopping bag. What he can only assume is the name of the store is embossed on the sturdy, matte black paper in looping gold that matches the designs etched along the trim, but it's not a name he recognizes. Definitely someplace far outside the realm of a scruffy mechanic, that's for sure.

But there's something niggling at him, tickling at the edges of his thoughts, that suggests it's—

No, don't be stupid. Of course it isn't.

"Amir?" he calls out, eyes still glued on the bag as he awkwardly towels himself dry. Of course, Amir has the perfect timing to come swanning in when Jude's scrubbing at his hair, leaving the rest of him bare.

Amir does not hesitate to ogle, because he never does, and his smirk as his eyes take a luxurious stroll over every damp, hairy inch of human is nothing short of salacious. Jude's hair is still wet, but he can't resist the urge to drop the towel to cover himself a bit, which only makes Amir smirk wider.

"Yes, pet?"

It takes a moment for Jude to remember what he was even going to ask, because the casual little endearment never ceases to scramble his brain a bit.

(He's heard more than one person refer to him as Amir's pet, and he knows it's supposed to be an insult, but… he doesn't exactly hate it.)

He shakes his head to get it back on the right track, and winds the towel around his waist, eyes lowered. "Um, did you move my bag?"

Amir's heaves a dramatic, put-upon sigh. "I am begging you to let me replace that thing.” He is pointedly not looking at the bag on the counter.

"It still works just fine," Jude protests, smiling to himself. It’s something they’ve argued about before, if it can even be called an argument. It’s sweet, how Amir likes to spoil him. He shrugs a bit, ducking his head and letting his damp hair hide his face. “It’s sturdy. Dependable.” He's had it so long, it's almost like an old friend.

“Ugly as sin," Amir adds helpfully, rolling his eyes. But there's a smile playing around the edges of his lips. "You're lucky I think that sentimentality of yours is cute."

Jude's ears burn and he stays hidden behind his hair, but he's smiling too. Cute. Nobody but Amir's ever called him that (not since he was a chubby kid, at least) and he does it so freely and so often, Jude's starting to believe he honestly means it, even if he doesn't see it himself.

He feels Amir slinking closer more than he sees or hears him, bare feet nearly silent on the glossy tile compared to those staggering heels of his, and his breath hitches. He peeks from underneath his hair and is met with those stunning golden eyes and that playful, slightly predatory smile. “I… My clothes were in there, Amir,” he protests weakly, shuddering when soft, warm hands slip around his hips, fingers wiggling under the edge of his loosely wrapped towel, sharp nails pricking at his skin.

“Mmhm,” Amir hums. “Don’t worry, I haven’t thrown them out. I just figured you wouldn’t need them for a while yet.”

A quick, shuddery breath rattles out of him, at the end of it, a tremulous, "O-oh? Oh."

Amir chuckles and pokes Jude’s nose playfully. “Mind out of the gutter, darling. Since you’re playing coy, I’ll just come out and say it–I’ve gotten you a little gift, and the suspense of waiting for you to try it on is killing me.”

“I’m not… playing coy,” Jude protests weakly, but his eyes flick away from Amir for a split second, over his shoulder to the bag on the vanity, and like an eagle spotting a blissfully unaware rabbit, Amir zeroes in on the shift and leers at him, teeth bared like he wants to sink them into Jude's skin to taste the blood rushing to its surface, like the sweetest of threats.

"You're a terrible liar, but it's so precious that you tried," he purrs, smooth and dangerous. With a flick of his nimble fingers, the towel still clinging desperately to Jude's waist drops to the floor, and sharp nails dig into the meat of his hips just hard enough to make him whimper. "I think you've kept me waiting long enough, pet. Don't you?"

Amir doesn’t wait for him to respond (not that he’d be capable of it in the first place, mouth suddenly dry and tongue like lead) and simply herds him towards the vanity, and the gift on top of it. He swallows hard as he reaches out, glancing back as if to ask for permission before he even touches it. It’s given in the form of a silky chuckle and a not-quite-gentle pat to his bare backside.

The bag feels just as unspeakably high-end as it looks, the paper heavy and textured, and he didn’t notice before that the handles are gold silk ribbons to match the embossed letters. The name on the bag still isn’t ringing any bells, and he can't even imagine what might be inside, but with the way Amir is watching him, those gold eyes so sharp and intense he can feel the heat of their stare pricking at his skin, he's clearly eager for Jude to find out.

He parts the shimmery metallic tissue paper as delicately as he can with his heavy, callused hands, and finds a long flat box lying underneath. His heart is in his throat as he lifts it out of the bag, turning it over carefully in an effort to guess what it might be without damaging its contents.

Amir sighs behind him, and if Jude’s entire body weren’t thrumming with nerves, he’d look back to see if he’s checking a watch he isn’t actually wearing to drive home the point that his patience is wearing thin.

He opens the box. He almost can't parse what's inside at first.

Lace. Lots of lace. Pale, dusky pink lace edged along sheer fabric and adorned with delicate ribbons and thin gold chains.

Jude's no stranger to fancy lingerie—Amir wears it often enough, and he likes to model it for Jude, even if he's just as clueless about luxury fashion as he is about fine art. Jude's never once complained—in fact, he's found he really likes it, the textures and colors and cuts, the way the airy fabrics cling to the striking angles of Amir's body, the way he always chooses colors that compliment him so well…

Jude's mouth is suddenly very dry, the weight of Amir's expectant gaze pressing down on him, because he's seen the succubus in enough lacy underthings, and removed them enough, to have a rough understanding of the sizes he wears.

The pretty pink garments in the box are much too big to be meant for Amir.

He looks up, and Amir meets his eyes with a sly curl to his mouth. "Well?" he asks, stepping closer, watching Jude’s face, picking apart his reactions with an almost surgical precision. "What do you think?"

He’s not sure he can think anything right now, all of his thoughts a messy jumble of confusion and curiosity and (a bit shamefully) desire. He knows he shouldn’t be ashamed for what he feels, what he wants, but there’s a lifetime’s worth of it built around everything he’s wanted that wasn’t in line with what he was supposed to be, and he’s still digging his way through that.

He wets his lips with his tongue and stares into the velvet-lined box, still trying to make sense of everything he’s feeling. "Is it… are they… for me?"

It’s a stupid question, but there’s a part of him that still can’t believe it, is still scared this is either a dream or some sort of joke.

Amir laughs, low and sultry, reaching out to curl his ring-laden fingers around Jude's bicep. The touch is so simple, so soft, but it still spreads warmth through Jude's body. "Of course. Not really my color, is it?"

It isn't, Jude knows. Amir prefers bolder colors, stark contrasts, shimmer and shine to draw the eye. He tries to say as much, but what comes out of his mouth is a fumbling, "Y-you look good in everything."

That laugh again, a smoky, rich thing that sinks beneath his skin, curls in his gut and leaves him aching to hear it again and again and again. "You're so sweet," Amir says, scratching affectionately at his scruffy chin with his free hand. He squeezes the other around Jude’s arm, the tips of his nails a tantalizing pressure that makes his chest feel tight, makes his breath quicken. “Why don’t you go try them on, make sure I got the sizing right.”

He did. Of course he did, Jude couldn’t doubt for a second he would. There’s no way the set isn’t entirely bespoke, too, considering there’s no tags in sight to indicate sizing. There’s a bit of embroidery on the inside of each piece (panties, garters, belt, a frilly top that he struggles to identify) that he assumes is a brand signature or something like it.

Amir ushers him back into the bathroom, smiling playfully as he closes the door, and Jude is left to stare at the box in his hands and try to sort through his thoughts.

It’s easier, with Amir there to distract him, when he can’t focus so much on his nerves, or what his family would think of him, or what he thinks of himself.

He keeps his eyes down, away from the mirror, as he carefully takes each piece of the set out of the box. There’s enough room on the vanity for him to lay them out one by one, and he tries to think of it the same way he thinks of disassembling an engine. You have to go into it with a plan, you have to know how the parts fit together, and in what order. He arranges them in the way he thinks (hopes) they’ll need to go on his body, and takes a slow, deep breath.

The most daunting piece, it seems, will have to be the one that goes first. He picks up the panties, wincing when the calluses on his palms snag at the lace. He frantically checks for damage, his heart pounding, and sighs with relief when nothing seems to be out of place.

He looks over his shoulder, towards the door. Amir is quietly waiting on the other side, probably keeping himself busy with organizing his ever-crowded schedule while Jude has a quiet panic spiral about underwear in his bathroom. But he’s been waiting long enough, and though he teased, he’s been endlessly patient with Jude, and kind enough to get him not just a gift, but an expensive, custom gift he literally plucked from the human’s deepest, most secret desires.

Jude takes another grounding breath, and meticulously, cautiously, pulls the underwear on.

He knows he’s in trouble when a shudder works its way through him at the way the lace feels sliding up his legs, softer than he expected. He’s achingly aware of it whispering up his calves, stretching around his thighs, and nestle over his hips. It takes a bit of… adjustment in certain areas, but given that they were made specifically for his body (and that’s still something he can barely wrap his head around) everything, uh, settles in with surprising ease. It’s oddly comfortable and, more than that, it feels right.

He swallows so hard his throat clicks, and keeps his eyes steadfastly away from the mirror as he reaches for the next pieces–the stockings– with trembling hands.

Amir’s bathroom is practically the size of a studio apartment on its own, and thankfully there’s a seat near the vanity in the form of a plushy padded stool. He sits down and feels the panties shift and stretch around his hips and ass, and gently scrunches the first stocking. He tries to remember how people in movies put them on, and goes from there, bunching it and then pulling it slowly up his leg. It shouldn’t feel so sultry to basically be putting on socks, but the opaque material edged with more of that soft pink lace scraping gently against his skin is thrilling him beyond words. The second stocking doesn't fluster him any less, and he spends a moment or two just staring down at his legs, trying to make sense of what he's seeing, and what it might be awakening in him.

The belt and garters come next, and those at least are fairly simple. The belt is broad and subtly patterned, nipping his waist in a bit without being too restrictive. He spends what feels like an age just running his hands over the smooth, satiny panels before he clips the garters with their tiny bows to it and attaches them to the stockings.

The final piece is the top, with its spidersilk-thin gold chains attached a smooth satin ribbon, and sheer ruffled fabric flowing down from the bust. There’s a touch of fear that it won’t fit him, that he’ll move wrong and tear it while trying to put it on, but it really was made to fit his body, and the way the hem floats around his (doughy, hairy, and sort of pale) belly does a lot to hide some of his insecurities. It does emphasize his chest in a way he’s not sure he likes, clinging and translucent, but when he carefully fastens the ribbon around his neck and makes sure the chains attached to it aren’t tangled, he forgets his stalemate with the mirror and looks up.

For a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

He looks like himself, still big, broad, and heavyset, with dense muscle padded with a layer of fat and dusted with dark hair, but the contrast of the dusky, pale lace against sun-browned skin and muted tattoos is something that leaves him feeling things he’s not sure he can name.

As if on cue, there’s a dainty little rap on the door, and he jolts, fingers twisting together. Amir is still waiting, and he has no clue how long he’s been in the bathroom—it feels like hours.

He turns and stands at the door, hand hovering over the handle, and feels his stomach beginning to tie itself into knots.

Amir sees something in him that he doesn’t see for himself, and he knows that logically, but his brain isn’t always the most logical place, especially right now. There’s a sense of impending dread taking root in his chest, leaving it crowded and too-small, like his lungs hardly have the room to expand. He imagines, a bit panicky, Amir taking one look at him and bursting out laughing, or the more likely outcome of feigning interest, telling Jude he looks nice, then hurrying him to change back into his normal clothes and never speaking of this little venture again.

As if Amir senses the direction his thoughts are going, the door swings open, making Jude flinch and—pulse pounding in his ears, heart jumping into his throat—wanting to scramble for cover. But he’s frozen, a deer in the headlights, as the succubus drinks him in.

"Oh, look at you…" he croons, beckoning him out of the doorway (and, of course, he follows without thinking) so he can circle him like he's sizing him up, like he’s taking in every inch of him before he pounces. "So pretty."

Jude couldn't feel more bare if he were actually naked, especially with the way the succubus is pulling him apart with just his molten gold eyes. But he can't get too caught up in that when he's left reeling over one simple word.

Pretty.

Nobody's ever called him pretty before.

Something slots into place in his chest, settles in and unfurls, a shuddering realization of a desire he never knew he held being fulfilled.

He never knew he wanted to be pretty, but it… it makes sense. And it feels good.

“I’ll admit, I took a bit of a risk,” Amir says, and there’s no teasing to his tone this time, just quiet consideration, a tenderness that makes Jude feel just as weak and helpless as his bold innuendo and sultry purring. “It was just a little hint of something I saw after…”

His expression shifts, brows furrowing, mouth curling. There's the faintest hint of that simmering anger he works so hard to hide. He doesn’t have to say anything, and Jude is grateful that he doesn’t. His thoughts were all over the place the night he had dinner with his family, he’s not surprised Amir managed to find the things he didn’t let himself think about, things he’d been struggling to bury for a good two decades, when all his old hurts were bubbling to the surface and he didn’t have the strength to push them down again.

“It was a guess,” Amir continues, easing closer, looking up with his head tilted, hair spilling over his shoulder in a glossy fall that Jude wants to hide in, bend himself practically in half so he can tuck away somewhere he actually feels safe, but he’s rooted to the spot feeling more exposed than he’s ever felt in his life. At least here, out in the open, he gets to see the way a slow smile starts to curl Amir’s lips again, softly smug. “But I think it’s safe to say it was a good one.”

Amir is so close, the heat of his body is almost enough to have Jude sweating, scantily clad as he is.

That could just as easily be nerves, or rather, anticipation.

Without his heels, Amir's a good six inches shorter than Jude, but it doesn't matter much with a presence like his. He effortlessly fills any room he struts into, and Jude's been helplessly drawn to him since the beginning. The demon stares at him with smoldering eyes, a gaze that clings to his skin like honey, thick and molten and saccharine, dripping from the ribbon at his throat, the slender chains connecting it to the top, and lingering at the bust for a long breathless moment before sliding down to the belt, the garters–

Jude shifts on the spot, shivers at the alien sensation of the stockings rubbing against the carpet, and tries to be subtle when he drops his hands to cover himself a bit. Unfortunately, it's not really possible for a man his size to be subtle in anything.

And then there's a swirl of mild disorientation, the sensation of breath against his ear, and a whisper in his mind that sends a shudder through his body.

No hiding, darling. I want to look at you.

Amir's lips don't move, but his eyes are so intent it feels like a physical touch. He takes his sweet time looking Jude over, admires him from every angle. Jude holds still obediently, doesn't try to hide, and he’s rewarded for his good behavior when Amir finally, finally touches him again, fingertips tracing along where the lace clings to his skin, where the softness of his hip spills out over the waistband of the panties, the lines the garters draw down his thick, hairy thighs to connect to the stockings and back up to slip under the floaty hem of the top and prickle his nails along the band that’s doing its best to support his ample chest.

His skin is burning now, between the hearthfire heat Amir radiates and his own blood rushing, and he’s starting to feel the shift in the atmosphere from an almost artistic appreciation to something a little more focused.

He’s not sure he can take much more of that focus, but thankfully Amir is very good at distracting him when he’s starting to feel overwhelmed. It just so happens that, in the current case, that distraction comes in the form of crowding him back into the nearest wall and pawing at him.

"W…wait," he whines out, helplessly squirming against the wall. He’s been able to restrain himself up to this point, to manage the low thrum of arousal building up in his gut since he starting pulling on all the satin and lace, but he can already feel himself straining against the delicate panties with Amir grabbing two big handfuls of his ass and squeezing. "I don't… I don't want to… mess these up."

There were no price tags, but he knows this has to be one of Amir's more expensive gifts. He's heard enough women in his life complain that just the mass-produced stuff is pricey, much less bespoke luxury lingerie. He can't even begin to guess how much Amir spent on what he's wearing, and he's honestly afraid to think about it too hard.

Amir laughs, something low and throaty that echoes sweetly in Jude's ribcage, settles heavy in his belly, and he tugs the human down to his level by the slip of ribbon around his throat. "Oh, darling," he coos indulgently, honey-sweet and just a touch condescending in that way Jude has gotten a little addicted to, "do you really think I only got you one set?"

21 notes · View notes

rpschtuff · 1 year

Text

Beta Editor / Trim Reblogs Masterpost

This is just a spot to gather all my posts about the beta / legacy editors and cutting posts into one place, mostly so it's in one easily shareable link for people who ask. (Last updated February 21, 2023.)

WHAT'S EVEN GOING ON — This long post explains pretty much everything in great detail. It covers the different editors, the different extensions required for cutting posts and how they work, some glitches you may encounter, and reasons the two systems aren't compatible. I highly recommend reading this one before any of the others, as it provides the most context.

TRIM REBLOGS GUIDE — An overview to just Trim Reblogs.

USING TRIM REBLOGS WITH THE LEGACY EDITOR — If you aren't willing to commit to the beta editor yet, at least learning how to use trim reblogs will make a world of difference to your partners using it.

BETA EDITOR OVERVIEW — An overview to the beta editor, the differences it has from legacy as well as its new features.

TRANSFERRING THREADS TO BETA / TRIM REBLOGS — An overview of how to actually go about transferring threads cut with the old system (editable reblogs) to the new system (trim reblogs).

DOUBLE POSTING GLITCH 1 + HOW TO FIX — Goes over a glitch you may encounter when using trim reblogs on a post that was originally made with the legacy editor, causing your reply to duplicate upon posting.

DOUBLE POSTING GLITCH 2 + HOW TO FIX — Goes over a glitch you may encounter when using editable reblogs on a post that was originally made with the beta editor, causing your partner's reply to duplicate upon posting.

#rph #rpt #rpc #beta editor #trim reblogs #legacy editor #editable reblogs #xkit #new xkit #xkit rewritten #*my stuff #*my tutorials #*beta editor masterpost

972 notes · View notes

natehackett · 1 year

Text

OPEN – lunar laundromat

"hey! HEY! don't make me tap the sign!" nate shouted after a group of teenagers huddled by the detergent dispenser. they were loading it full of quarters, taking pod after pod to put into a machine with no clothes. it was clear they were trying to fill the entire laundromat with soap suds and break one of the washers, that was already on the fritz, in the process. when the teens turned their attention to the attendant, he did tap the sign hanging on the front of the desk he was sitting behind. it read one detergent pod per washer. they stopped their giggling and dropped their handfuls of pods before they ran towards the door. "damn..." he came out from behind the counter to pick up the dropped detergent. "if they were really thinking the prank through, they would have just bought a whole box of tide pods and brought them in. maybe i wouldn't have noticed them using so many pods then. it was kind of hard not to notice them spending fifteen minutes in front of the dispenser for no reason."

#roswellstart #–*. STARTER | this is only the beginning #also heads up that i do have the beta editor ): so i need to use trim posts instead of editable reblogs

46 notes · View notes

electricea · 5 months

Text

thing for @chibitantei!

"Oi, you're looking a bit red in the face there. Didn't you bundle up more for the cold weather?" He asks, hands tugging at his own scarf as without another word spoken, he moves to clumsily weave and loop the scarf around her own neck.

"Can't have a great detective lime you catching a cold, yeah...?"

#hope this is okay!#gonna see if the new way to trim reblogs works #and ryunao fluff naturally #( v; unspecified. )#( closed starter. )

14 notes · View notes

helreginn · 3 months

Text

agentsanders:

"Oh no. You won't get in trouble." Nathan said quickly. "Emrys just once mentioned that his sister made him a magical necklace that helps him with his phoenix or something and I...I was wondering if you could make one than can help me to overcome my social anxiety so I can take Emrys out for a real date. I just want to do something nice for him." Nathan looked at Hel. "But that's stupid. Forget that I asked." @agentsanders

"Good. 'cause I would have lied." She didn't seem entirely ashamed of that. Just stating a fact. Her days were long enough without inter-family drama.

Her brows lifted curiously as the young man brought up the amulet she made... almost a decade ago. She unconsciously brought her fingers up the the small resin-like necklace around her own neck, holding it in her hand as she listened to his request and very soon after, his anxious backpedalling.

"It's not stupid at all." She remarked, hoping to assuade his doubts. "I cannot cure your disease, Nathan. You must know that. But I suppose I might be able to..." She let her necklace go as she turned her hands around in the air before her chest, "Soften it's grip?"

#So I've always HATED ask reblogs #But today THIS VERY DAY I now get a warning about trimming them so I'm DONE with that forever now.#agentsanders

7 notes · View notes

assundries · 2 months

Text

@isbrilliant from x.

"Oh, I am not an officer of the law," he answers with an amiable grimace and an expressive shrug. "In this, or any other country."

He takes a moment to swallow the last of his Harvey Wallbanger and set the glass down before turning curious eyes back on her. "But if you wouldn't be completely opposed to my askin', though...."

No one could say that Benoit Blanc hasn't seen his fair share of strangeness, in his career. But through all of that, gravity, among a handful of other certainties, has remained .... well, certain.

She doesn't seem to harbor that same prejudice.

"What is it that makes you so certain your friend must have had somethin' to do with all this?"

#idk if it's me or trim reblogs but cutting out the ask just broke everything so ✌️😔 new post #isbrilliant #ic. blanc #anyway. homophobia that he isn't interested in unpacking 'knock that out of the park' there #bc i personally am obsessed with donna's definite real ability to talk to usamericans i love her

3 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs