#Tiddler

[pixieliciousnippletassles]

Me and Tiddler just stared into each others' eyes for at least 2 minutes, i know he loves me, it made me genuinely cry.

Then I gave him a radish and realised he was probably just trying to commumicate the FoodLust.

So Stitch gets one too. Even if he never even pretends to love me for any other reason than cupboard love.

[girlonfilms]

Hannah Waddingham to lead cast of BBC's festive animation

Hannah Waddingham will narrate the BBC’s annual animated short film this Christmas. Continue reading Hannah Waddingham to lead cast of BBC’s festive animation

[4sa]

[master-of-fluff]

god when one of the toddlers says "I'm hungry make me food" when I'm literally making food omfg child your eyes work I know they do what does it look like I'm doing?

and then they say "but its taking so/too long" like I understand your 5 and 3 but a part of me still is still enraged and wants to punt you just a little.

[flossingh]

[lexa-griffins]

The Lost Flowers of Alice Heart poster is.... a interesting choice......

[skxtchyghost]

Tiddler <3

[joepringle]

JP71: Usually I'd throw this one back, as he's a tiddler. But he won me over, cos he looks so sweet and pleased with himself. And despite lacking the mass we all love, he's absolutely gorgeous.

[humble-humbler]

If only .......... our mayor ........ was as ....... half as good ........ as this .......... TIDDLING TIDDLER ......... mayor?!!!!

[sissytiddler]

I don't know whether I'm being targeted or it's just bad luck, but my posts are being regularly flagged. Even though they're mostly heavily censored, and bearing in mind that there is real actual porn on this platform.

All of my posts, and other uncensored stuff are on Twitter, if you can bear being on that site.

My handle is Tiddler @littlewilly72

[uncleclaudius]

On 24 September 15 AD, Aulus Vitellius, one of the emperors from 69 AD (the year of 4 Emperors) was born. Here are some facts about Vitellius:

When his parents saw his horoscope, they were so horrified they tried to keep him from governing a province or commanding an army.

In his youth, he was a guest of Emperor Tiberius on Capri and the most malicious rumors say that he was one of the emperor's tiddlers - boys trained to sexually please him - which in turn won political advancement to Aulus's father Lucius.

Galba named Vitellius commander of the Rhine legions because he believed he was too lazy and incompetent to lead a rebellion and declare himself emperor.

He was the only one who didn't take the name Caesar as part of his regnal name, choosing Germanicus instead.

He allegedly feasted four times a day. Extravagant dishes like pheasant brains and flamingo tongues were served at these feasts.

When his army was defeated by Vespasian's legions, he tried to abdicate but his supporters wouldn't let him.

After his final defeat, he tried to hide but was dragged by an angry jeering mob to Gemonian stairs and savagely killed. His head was then paraded through the streets of Rome and his body was thrown into the Tiber.

[dustinslovehandles]

So, Wembley was incredible. More incredible? My mum's hot takes:

She fell in love with Hangman (he's so big and sparkly!)

Samoa Joe is a lot bigger than she was expecting (???)

Hook = Baby boxer

Adam Cole = beautiful willow branch in the breeze

Trent's so smol!

Darby Allin/Christian/Adam Cole = a tiddler (smol for those of you that don't speak british)

Mox is a porcupine

Changed 180 on Eddie Kingston from "he's scary" and "he has nasty eyes" to "i felt a sense of warmth from him"

Barking back at Brody King

She's also been practicing her 'young person' slang and proudly declared Samoa Joe to be 'an absolute unit'.

Spoke to @homoeroticgrappling for five seconds and kept telling me how gorgeous they look and how kind they are (which is not a hot take, I agree!)

So yeah, take your mum's wrestling.

[smile-files]

i hope god loves me as much as you did

[cute kittys!!! by gabi on flickr; neighborhood #2 (laika) by arcade fire; goodnight sparky by @smile-files on tumblr; the fight is over by patrick mchale; my cat is sad by spencer madsen; a dog's midnight prayer by unknown; so big / so small by rachel bay jones; everyone i know (will die) by four eyes; the little prince by antoine de saint-exupéry; breathe (in the air) by pink floyd; sunpod by gustafer yellowgold; sweetie little jean by cage the elephant; cat dreaming by tiddler on flickr; untitled by roadarch; goodnight by whimsical animal; this is home by cavetown; untitled by @storieldraw on tumblr; plane crash blues (i can't play the piano) by phoebe bridgers; just take my wallet by jack stauber; death is nothing at all by henry scott holland; untitled by petfurniture on twitter; fading kitten syndrome by roar]

[starlight-and-whiskey]

More People Than Ghosts: Ch8 - A Second Storm

Arthur takes Eleanor on a fishing trip, when the two are caught once again in a storm. This one procures more pleasing results. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Perched on the edge of her cot, Eleanor tugged on her boots. It had been two weeks since she’d drunkenly kissed Arthur beneath that old, gnarled oak. Two long weeks of fervent glances across the campfire and the briefest of exchanges over morning coffee before one or the other was spirited away, apologetic looks passing between them with the promise of later.  Today was different. Today, she and Arthur were going fishing.

“Ready for a little adventure?”, came the low, warm hum of Arthur’s voice as he pulled back the flap of the tent.

 “Absolutely”, Eleanor nodded, grabbing her hat from her bunk and pushing it onto her head. Arthur smiled warmly at the sight. It had been a gift from him not too long after the party. ��Well, you looked so good in mine, I thought you deserved one of your own.’

With their gear packed and horse saddled, they set off. The ride to the river was serene, the climbing sun casting dappled light through the trees, until the landscape gradually gave way from dense forest to open fields. The ride felt like it had passed in an instant, and soon they were at the glittering water’s edge. The day passed quicker than Arthur would have liked, and with less fish than Eleanor would have hoped. He showed her how to bait her hook and cast her line, playing the perfect professional fisherman with his hands steady and sure. Hosea’s words rung in Eleanor’s ears that Arthur never much liked fishing, recalling tales of when he was a boy. It only served to make the trip all the more meaningful to her. Eleanor grinned as she hooked her first fish, relishing the way Arthur’s hands rested on her hips as he guided her through reeling it in, his voice a soft and husky whisper against her neck. The disappointment at it turning out to be a tiddler and having to throw it back did nothing to diminish the joy coursing from the pit of her stomach right to the tips of her extremities.

Arthur was right—the place was peaceful, a perfect escape from…well, from everything. Eleanor felt a sense of calm wash over her, the rhythm of the river soothing and serene.

But as the day wore on into early afternoon, darkening clouds rolled downwards across the valley and the sky began to darken, the air growing heavy with the scent of rain. The thick, sticky air felt charged with electricity that yearned for release. Arthur glanced up, his brow furrowing.

“Looks like the weather’s turning,” he said with an almost annoyed sigh, reeling in his line.

Just as he spoke, the first drops of rain began to fall, quickly escalating into what threatened to be a torrential downpour as they hurriedly packed their things. Glancing around and realising how little shelter the open field within the valley afforded them, Arthur cast a concerned look at Eleanor, expecting to see her wide eyed in terror at the oncoming storm. Instead, he only saw a subtle smile as she bit her bottom lip in concentration, her fingers deftly working the buckles of the saddle bag as she stowed her prized hat away from the rain.

Arthur couldn’t help but watch in awe, recalling the last storm they were caught in almost six months prior. Trembling hands. Shallow, rapid breaths. The look of sheer terror in her eyes as the storm raged around them. Holding her close enough to smell the campfire smoke still lingering in the curls of her hair as she cried in his arms.

The change in her appearance since they’d met had been evident. The soft curves of her frame where ribs had once protruded. The glow returning to her cheeks, the sparkle to her eyes. But to see Eleanor’s demeanour change felt like cradling a miracle. Her posture was upright and steady, her breathing even and fingers sure in their task. Her eyes, though briefly drifting to the oncoming storm, didn’t hold the same fear as before when they met the looming clouds. Instead, they were determined, as though precisely calculating how much time they had against the clock until the heaven’s opened above them. Her lips curved into a hint of a smile the whole damn time. “What?” Eleanor asked with a nervous chuckle as she noticed Arthur’s stare. “Nothing”, he smiled in return, “you just seem different.” Eleaner grinned, the humid summer air slick against her skin. “You mean I ain’t going to pieces over a little rain?” Arthur laughed sheepishly. “Something like that.” Eleanor turned her eyes to the sky for a moment, relishing the cool raindrops against her skin, before looking back to Arthur. “Ain’t nothing gonna hurt me with you here, right?” Arthur’s heart swelled, a sense of pride blooming in his chest and a wide smile curving his lips. “Right.” “And I did always love a storm. I’d like that back at least.”

***

The falling raindrops grew heavier, a warm breeze enveloping them. Eleanor grasped Arthur’s calloused hand in hers, tugging almost urgently.

"Over there!" She shouted over the rain with a grin, pointing at a small dry patch underneath a rock overhang not too far away. She laughed and tugged at his hand again, and they took off running. The skies opened almost the moment they set off running, the cooling rain hammering down through the hot air and bouncing against the soft ground, soaking them to the skin in moments.

Giddy laughter rang out as they ran for cover, hands gripped tightly and the world around them a blur of grey and green.

It wasn’t long before they neared the refuge under the overhang in the cliff, a shallow dip in the rock, just deep enough to keep them dry. Eleanor skidded to a halt, pressing her back close against the rock as she panted heavily. Her outstretched hand was still gripped to Arthur’s as he slipped and slid in the deepening mud, her hands grasping at his frame, and drawing him closer under the overhang.

The small, sheltered spot barely fit the two of them, causing Arthur to brace his arms on either side of her head, ducking his head a little to try and get out of the rain as he squeezed in close against Eleanor, her back pressed flush with the rock wall. Their eyes meeting, they both broke out in laughter, soaked to the bone and clothes slick and clinging against their skin.

Water pooled and dripped from the brim of Arthur’s hat in fat drops between them. Eleanor grabbed the front of his hunting jacket in her fists, pulling him even closer with a wide grin as she closed the gap between them until Arthur’s body was flush with her own. "You're still getting wet!", she giggled. As their bodies sandwiched together their giggling died down, his face inches from hers and their eyes locking. Arthur’s chest rose and fell rapidly, pressing against Eleanor’s with every exerted breath. She could feel the hammering of his heart. The look in Arthur’s eyes changed into something else, something softer, as he reached up to trace the back of his knuckles against her jaw and Eleanor felt the laughter still in her throat. Arthur reckoned he hadn’t seen something so perfect in his entire life. Hair dripping with raindrops, skin misted with humidity, lips parted and panting.

Arthur leaned his face closer and softly brushed her lips against hers. Slowly, delicately, nervously. When he pulled away, Eleanor scanned his face, tracing those gorgeous azure eyes and parted full lips. Her breath caught. Her heart jumped.

A wave of something primal overcame her, flooding every inch of her, and she snaked a hand around the back of his neck, pushing herself forward and kissing him hard. The kiss deepened, the weight of his body against her, a hand drifting to her waist. Hands found soft curves. Fingers tugged at shirts. Nails etched crescent moons into skin. As his tongue traced her lips, she parted them gladly and allowed him entry, her fingers raking through his damp hair at the nape of his neck. Eleanor moaned softly as Arthur’s arm tightened around her waist, his other hand cradling the back of her head as he groaned into her mouth. Pushing herself forward against the cliff wall, Arthur gripped her waist tightly and staggered out from under the overhang and into the warm rain.

Mud slicked their boots. Raindrops ran down their faces. Shirts dampened and clung against skin. The only sounds in their own little world being soft moans and the pounding of a summer downpour. All of it going unnoticed between the feeling of fingertips tracing skin and the taste of honey-sweet lips. They broke after what felt like hours, breaths ragged and lips almost touching.

"Town’s not far", Arthur whispered huskily. “We should get a hotel room.”

Eleanor raised an eyebrow and gave him a subtle smirk. "Don’t you think that’s a little presumptuous, Mr. Morgan?"

"No, I just meant…”, he stumbled with flushed cheeks, eyes flitting anywhere else but hers, even as his arms still held her close to his body. “You’re all wet and we should probably-" Arthur didn’t get a chance to finish before Eleanor’s lips landed soft and sweet against his. "Let’s go."

[pastelclovds]

I was just scrolling through your blog (thank you for the dom!reader food, very much appreciated) and while scrolling through your masterlists accidentally misread 'the riddler' as 'the tiddler'...

I should go to sleep. Good night.

not the tiddler 😂😭😭

[humble-humbler]

Posh ......... tiddling .......... tiddler ... @ work!