So FiniteXS and I did a story trade and both us had to make a fanfiction about Tumblr. You should read his story (take out the spaces though!) : finitewrite . tumblr post / 75222185097 / forged-through-fire-and-tumblr-oneshot

If you don't have a Tumblr, or don't really know any memes, this story will confuse you. A lot. Uh, yeah.

This was unbetaed, so tell me if there are any mistakes I should fix.

EDIT: Thanks FiniteXS for pointing out my mistakes~

EDIT 2: Thank you ir-dr for letting me use one of her artworks as the cover of this fic! Please check her out on Tumblr!

EDIT 1/9/19: I'm not editing for grammar mistakes, but I am taking out harmful stereotypes I got from yaoi. Learn from what you did wrong and improve.

I do not own Vocaloid or Tumblr.

"Miku, no."

That has been a reoccurring phrase from me.

She pouted, sticking out her lips more then necessary. "Aww! Why not?"

I rolled my eyes at her, sick of her nonsense. "You can't go outside to say you like someone's shoelaces and wait for the words 'thanks, I stole them from the president' just to see if someone has a Tumblr."

I didn't really get it myself. How did someone come up with the process to figure out if someone had a Tumblr? Also, why exactly the shoelaces phrase?

"Why not?" She repeated the question again, her lips now pressed together.

"You'll weird people out, the chance of getting that exact response is highly unlikely, and I'll never talk to you," I listed a few reasons, my arms crossed. After a few moments of thinking, I added, "Ever."

Her expression turned into one of stubbornness. "What happens if someone near us has a Tumblr, Piko? What happens if I meet someone who is following me? Oh, what happens if I meet all of my 1,839 followers? What happens if I meet iammyownsound? Or if I meet mirrorsound01? Or maybe even ringringthebell?"

"That's very unlikely," I replied in a bland tone.

Sticking her tongue out at me, she turned her attention back to her laptop, almost hitting me with her hair. Her fingers flew across the black keyboard, and she let out a sigh. "Such sadness. Much disappointment."

I'm pretty sure I groaned for two hours straight after that.

"Miku, no."

I would have been laughing at her appearance if I was someone who had no self control. Luckily, I was better than that. Maybe.

Her hair was a complete mess. Teal strands of hair were sticking out everywhere, and knots were probably made over the night. Her pink pajama top was missing a few heart-shaped buttons, and if I didn't have any decency, I probably would have been ogling at her like some creepy pervert. Dry drool covered half of her chin and her face was like the living version of the definition of disoriented. I know you look pretty bad when you're ill, but could you possibly look this bad?

...Leave Miku to do the impossible.

"Uh, why?" she grunted, which was unusual for her. Damn, the flu hit her bad.

"You're sick. You probably stayed up until 3 AM going on Tumblr again, which isn't exactly the best thing to do when you're ill," I said in a matter of fact tone, "Don't get up. Sleep."

"I want negi though..." she murmured as if she didn't want anyone to hear.

"I'm making you soup, so wait, okay?" I spoke softly, a bit kinder than usual. "I have to feed you though, but that's fine with you, right?"

She ever so slightly nodded, and I walked out of her bedroom to the kitchen. The revolting odor of Miku's favorite vegetable entered my nose, and I almost gagged in disgust. Seriously, how does she even like negi? When I tried it, I thought I was going to vomit all over the place.

I gazed at the bubbling pot of soup. Vegetables such as negi and carrots floating on top of the slightly green soup. Hmm, seems okay enough.

The doorbell rang and I heard Miku shout with a hoarse voice, "That's the prize I won from a Tumblr giveaway!"

Before I could even react, I saw a flash of turquoise heading to the door. "Gotta go fast!"

If I was in some gag manga, I would have 'face palmed' myself. "God damn it, Miku."

"Miku, no."

"Huh?" Her turquoise eyes stared at my face as she gripped her mechanical pencil.

"You have to answer the question correctly," I deadpanned, hovering over her. My finger pointed towards her half blank, French homework.

"But I don't know the right answer!" She whined, scratching her head in aggravation.

"You can at least look at your notes." I took a closer look at her paper and smacked myself in the face at her idiocy, "...And maybe not use the same answer for every question!"

"That's the only French I know!" She retorted, her voice high-pitched and child-like.

I moaned in agony. Written neatly for almost every question was 'hon hon hon baguette eiffel tower'.

...What the hell does that even mean?

"Oh, wait!" She screamed suddenly, excitement evident in her voice. "I remember something else!"

"Wow. Really?" I asked, a little surprised myself. Could Miku actually remember something from French class?

Furiously scribbling down her answer, she shoved the paper in my face. I clenched her homework in my hand, and shot her a quick glare. I flicked her on the forehead, making her yelp out 'ow!', and looked at the words...

...omelette du fromage.

"That's not even grammatically correct!" I yelled, shaking my head in disappointment as I threw her homework at her. "If anything, it's supposed to be 'omelette au fromage', which means an omelet with cheese. And by the way, you're still wrong."

The edges of her lips pointed upwards. "Ouais, peu importe."

"Miku, no."

This time I didn't actually say it. At least, not yet. Our conversation ended with this phrase, though.

The blogger was jumpy, that was for sure. A white sheet of paper was in between her hands as she hopped her way towards me, her pigtails flying everywhere. If her hair was a weapon, I'm pretty sure I would have already been brutally murdered.

"Piko~! Piko~!" She sang my name over and over again. It was kind of cute, but I would have never told her that.

"I'm not deaf, you know," I yawned, my hand slightly covering my mouth. "What is it?"

"My story won the Free Write competition in our school!" Miku squealed as if she was fangirling over that one swimming anime.

Hold on, when was there ever a competition for writing in our school? Wait, Miku can write?

... Iwonder why she always fails English class then.

"Good job," I gave her a rare pat on the back, and her eyes lit up like never ending fireworks. "What did you write? An essay?"

"An essay...?" Her expression told me that she thought I had hit myself too many times from her antics. "Ha! Good one, Piko. But, no. I wrote a story!"

"A story?" Apparently, my childhood friend is an aspiring author. And apparently, I'm a terrible childhood friend because I never knew she liked to write. Huh.

"Yep!" She nodded her head happily, her fingers fidgeting. "Do you want to know what it's about?"

"Sure," I told her, my curiosity hopefully not showing. Even though Miku can be silly sometimes- I mean, most of the time, I know she can make something good when she puts her mind to it.

"Yay! So, it's about this teenager, Russia," she stated, twirling a lock of her hair with her pointer finger, "who is sitting outside in the cold when he meets the new transfer student, China..."

I stopped listening after that. My attention span isn't the greatest, as you can see. But why was she naming countries?

Wait.

Oh god.

"Miku..." My voice was steady as I placed my hand on her shoulder. "Did you, um, possibly submit Hetalia fanfiction to a contest and win?"

"Uh-huh!" She grinned stupidly, her hands placed on her hips like a diva. "Awesome, right? I was a little worried at first, but everything turned out fine!"

"..." I was lost for words. How could she be so dumb?

"You can read it on my Tumblr! Here, I'll send you a link!" She chirped, getting her iPhone out.

We all know how that ended.

"Miku, no."

I sat close to her as she was huddles into the corner. Even though she was hiding her face, I could still hear the faint gasps of breath. I could still see drops of water sinking into the floor. I could see her frame faintly trembling.

She was crying.

"What happened?" I cooed into her ear, rubbing her back gently.

"I... um... got anonymous hate..." She tried to sound happy as usual, but her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence. "They said I was stupid... and I sounded bad when I sang..."

Whoever this person was that sent hate mail to her, I wanted punch them in the gut. What a jerk. I really hate to see her like this. If I could make a selfish wish, I would wish to never see her breakdown.

"They're right about one thing," I said, "You're stupid... but you're the good kind of stupid. You're the kind of stupid that never gives up. You're that stupid girl who tries and tries until they succeed. And your voice," I didn't bother hiding my flushed face, "sounds amazing. It's like a radiant light of hope shining out from the darkness of despair. I love it when you sing."

Although hesitant at first, she looked up at me and gave me the tiniest smile, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Thanks..." She held my hand, scooting a little closer to me. "I was a little over dramatic, so sorry about that."

"It's fine," I told her. "Their opinion doesn't matter. What matters is your own opinion about yourself."

"I know," her voice was only a tad bit above a whisper. "Their message just... hurts. When I read it, I hear my own voice saying those words and that's painful."

"I know," I repeated over and over again. "I know."

'I finally reached 2,000 followers! Haha, beat that, iammyownsound!'

That post by Miku was the first thing I saw on my dashboard. At the mention of her followers, I glanced at how many I had. The number was a solid 6,000, triple the amount Miku had. I could just imagine seeing Miku pout if I showed her the amount of followers I earned over since middle school.

... Well, I could only imagine.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "You still have a long way to go, Miku."

The first section includes the doge meme.

Ouasis quelle que soit means 'Yeah, whatever' in French. Correct me if I'm wrong since I'm not an expert in the language.

Attack on Titan is an anime series. It's also known as Shingeki no Kyojin. I also do not own that.

I'm not sure if those Tumblr usernames actually exist.

Piko is actually a really lame guy.

Piko is iammyownsound, by the way.

I might write another part to this and make it a two shot, but who knows.

Well, I do.

Hehe.

Bye everyone!