#and there's still traces of her. even here. even if I deleted the old blog cause

[imwritesometimes]

trina, dana, cori if ur all out there. somewhere. girlies. I hope ur having a good day ✌️💕

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Incoming very long ramble about the fragility of internet content and the ways some things are impossible or difficult to preserve

The thing that frustrates me most about poppytwt is how fruitless it all feels.

Like, you can't archive or research poppytwt effectively. You can certainly TRY but you'll find very little!!!

You have people who spent years in the poppytwt fandom who can TELL you about fanfics they read, art they saw, friends they made who were deactivated or doxxed or harassed or who committed suicide or are otherwise lost to time, but they'll have almost nothing to show for it because poppytwt was actively designed to be as impossible to trace back as possible, precisely because people were afraid of harassment.

How are you supposed to find, say, Tommy/Tubbo fanfiction? There's some on the actual tag, sure, especially now that poppytwt is for the most part over and it's considered "okay" to ship them now, but I'll tell you right now there are thousands of fics that won't pop up because the fic had no tags whatsoever, or spelled Tubbo like Tvbb0, or used some God awful emoji combination to convey who they were talking about, or were straight up DELETED. Discord servers moved every few years, fanart and fics were usually tagged with censored bullshit or not tagged at all and then taken down and deleted, entire accounts were ALSO deleted, even assuming something was tagged properly it's probably gone.

Most of us in the fandom at the time didn't think to make archives of anything while it was happening, so we've lost like.... probably enough content to make our own small website full of it, and even more chatrooms.

Almost all of the public facing content left is NSFW and/or more controversial kinks like CNC, watersports, etc, which could be because people who post that content are more resistant to criticism anyway but honestly I don't know why that is, and I know sfw content beyond what you can currently find EXISTED, we consumed tons of it back in the day, but it's almost fucking impossible to find!!! And most of it, when you get your hands on a link, is GONE!!!!

It happens with NSFW content too though, if course. Veradie was one of the most popular artists in poppytwt by far and a lot of the art links don't work. Some have archived versions with working links but a lot is gone because the original post leading to it doesn't work, and Veradie, like, the person, is missing. I'm sure she(?) would know a lot about old fandom and might even have archived some stuff, but if you're some sort of internet historian how in the FUCK are you supposed to find her??? She deactivated without a trace!!!

I made friends with a user called Kencydoo on here and one day I logged on and Kency was just GONE without warning or any indication of where they were moving to, no DMs to people they knew, nothing. I don't even know if it was staff or mass reports or a self-deletion. I do know Kency sometimes posted NSFW dead dove stuff and had tags you could block to avoid it, so it's possible one of those posts blew up and got the blog taken down, but I have no level of certainty.

Reese (I think it was Reese?) had people hunting for a "main account" that didn't exist for harassment and doxxing purposes and then ALMOST left (I'm glad you're still here @reesesrambles )

There's no stability for poppytwt content and no real shelf life which means that most of the history and even the harassment that REQUIRED THE EXISTENCE of a seperate fandom is gone. We can describe what the old dsmp fandom was like and why poppytwt exists and what it means but most of the actual concrete fandom blogs or resources are GONE, absolutely obliterated.

Like you can't make a Strange Æons style video about poppytwt, you literally can't, because almost all of it is like the fucking city of Atlantis. There WAS stuff here, but it was constantly sinking.

Most people I know for a fact were involved in poppy honestly just left for the hermitcraft fandom because people over there are like...normal?? The hermitcraft fandom allows RPF and doesn't give a shit about shipping characters who are "sibling coded" or whatever the fuck. They understand the concept of just not clicking on something you don't want to see, instead of launching a twitter cancellation campaign against people. So like if you can talk about a similar, and GOOD source of content that is also actively ongoing and not get shit for it, why would you chose to create for a discontinued peice of content and/or streamers who you WILL get shit on for writing about?? Like if your options are "write grian RPF and be able to not stress and have a fun time" or "write tommyinnit RPF and delete hate comments every day and watch your back constantly" why the fuck would you pick the latter???

And it's frustrating because the fact everything disappears means it feels like you don't even have much to look back on. The friends you made or content you enjoyed about a series you love is all dust now, and if you were into the DSMP for a long time (and therefore in poppytwt for a long time) then it's so much worse. It all adds up.

Anyways that's my ramble on how fucked up it is that entire communities can be lost in an era where things can supposedly be maintained forever does anyone want to drink a caprisun with me

[darklinaforever]

I don't know if you know or even care judging by your heartless attitude and those of the anons baiting, but Grace has been discharged from the hospital. She just needed a few stitches. Her brother has said Grace is actually not meant to be on social media as it's hugely triggering for her, plus she has a history of making posts that spark harassment etc because her takes are seen as discriminatory etc. He thought it was the same old situation again and doesn't get the whole plagarism thing. I messaged him the screencaps Grace took of her post and yours and he thought she had written both posts which says it all. He's not really interested in that tbh. However he has contacted law enforcement for advice regarding the harassment claims - they have seen the screencaps of everything but the fact Grace deleted her blog has caused hassle. Without an actual account to trace the IPs then it gets complicated. They recommend getting legal representation in the meantime and to contact Tumblr directly. Grace's injuries have been photographed and filed, so has the whole plagarism thing as background but they're not really interested in that either. It's more about the threats. I don't know if you were involved but apparently the officer said they have to have actual evidence in terms of the original situation motivating a backlash from your followers. But it's sketchy and we can't make unproven allegations. He said so far there's no actual proof online of you goading people to go after Grace. Your responses are not enough to indicate this. If the case goes ahead and they uncover evidence, then yes, they will then act. Tbh, they're not really being helpful with this as they are implying it's a waste of their time and resources. The officer admitted that your post was probably plagarised but that's it.

I'm going to cut it off there as I've wasted enough time on this. I hope Grace learns her lesson and stays off this hellsite. The only good thing about this is all my mutuals and theirs have now blocked you if they hadn't already. I've heard a lot about you over the past 24 hours and none of it is good.i had no idea who you were before or I'd have moved to act sooner to protect Grace from you. God knows how many vulnerable people you fucked up ready. I'm hearing crazy things about you defend paedophelia, you pretend to be bi to express Anti LGBTQ opinions and get away with it etc. I don't know if this is true but who knows. I just think you are a really dangerous individual and people are taking your opinions at face value as fact. Anyone who challenges you is immediately called crazy and deluded and then subjected to abuse. Grace could have killed herself over this and for what? Some idiot copying her post? I feel you have a lot of unhealthy thoughts and feelings and post them here because in real life you'll get trouble for it. I don't really care. I just think you're absolutely vile and people should block you for their own safety.

1. I don't pretend to be Bi. I am bisexual woman. And I have never declared anything anti-LBGT. I'm just not comfortable with changing the on-screen gender of a male character who has been exist for years. It's still crazy to be called queerphobic for that.

(If you look at my tumblr account, I'm currently obsessed with the ship Catwin and Dead Boy Detectives in general ! 😂)

2. I am not defending pedophilia. Not even incest, because I'm also accused of that. Shipping fictional characters has nothing to do with real life. You need to get treatment.

3. The same people who say I'm anti LGBT also accuse "Grace" of also being anti-LGBT, by the way. Just to show you the level of stupidity these people have.

4. There is no evidence that my subscribers have harassed anyone ! And if they did, I NEVER in any way encouraged that to happen. As for this girl (apparently named Grace), I literally said that if it was true, it was sad, but I had nothing to do with it, and that I hoped she would get better. (How does that make me heartless?) But once again, I DIDN'T PLAGIARIZE HER, I didn't harass her, and I didn't encourage anyone to harass her (or other people) either.

I am a person who stays in my tags on tumblr. I almost never go to other people's blogs and even less to harass them with anonymous messages. At this point, I am the one who has been the victim of harassment by antis who are spreading bullshit about me and it continues now.

If this whole story is true, I wish Grace well, but I didn't plagiarize her, nor did I send anyone to harass her. And that's just the truth. Whether you believe me or not I don't care, I have a clear conscience and that's all that matters.

[iwantacorgisobad]

I didn't intend for this blog to be sims3 on main but since tumblr deleted my sideblog without a trace :,) and hasn't answered my cry for help :,) I decided that it just wasn't worth the hassle and so from now, this blog is dedicated mostly to my sims shenanigans. to my old followers, if you're still active, i'm sorry, feel free to unfollow.

I started a legacy (again) but this time it follows the official legacy challenge's rules, so I wanted to document it in some way. Might even do videos later, I'm still just figuring out how active I want to be. So if you wanna read more, there's more under the cut.:)

So the founder of this matriarchy (I wanted to make my life harder okay?) is Sienna Marrone, pictured above. She lives in Monte Vista - and I'm not gonna lie, I was inspired by Not Malcolm to start this challenge in this town. I'm a Sunset Valley girlie, otherwise. Her traits are loves to swim, unlucky, car enthusiast, clumsy, and green thumb, and her LTW is bottomless nectar cellar.

The thing I'm not yet used to is the default lifespan, and I'm having an extremely hard time coping with it lol. I used to do a legacy 'challenge' of sorts before this but the generational trauma was starting to be too much to handle and I wanted a fresh start, and here we are. I wanted to have a set of rules to follow this time though, so that's why I'm trying out the official challenge. But yeah, in my previous legacy sims used to live for well over 200 sim days because A GIRL GETS ATTACHED:( Anyway. We'll see. Fingers crossed.

[finderseeker]

I always like everything you post all the time! I wish you had more confidence when posting your stuff, cuz even the suggestive stuff is really good and this is Your House so you can just post whatever you want, you should to have shame cuz this is your blog! Your house! Draw what you want! Be nicer to yourself

(´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) Thank you,,, Sometimes I need to hear that. I should be nicer to myself… Also I really appreciate hearing that you like ‘everything I post all the time’!! :’0 QuQ ueueue… that makes me so happy,,,

I just… it’s weird, because sometimes I’ll get in a Mood, and be like “YEAH SAUCY!” and then later I’m like, “Wow I’m incredibly uncomfortable with this.” Idk.

BUT— just for you,,, I will share the saucy things. BUT I’M TURNING REBLOGS OFF. And I’m giving explanations for some. And to be honest I might still get weird and end up coming back and deleting some. Sorry I’m so fickle.

1) Actually there is no explanation for this one, I was just horny. And thinking about Asteri’s teeth. She wasn’t supposed to look so aggressive here idk what happened. But I drew this a month or two ago so who knows. 2) I would like to clarify that I traced a picture of a skeleton for most of this. Technically it was a ribcage study but. C’mon. I had to. This is also what I was doing when I posted “Gaster dakimakura” without any context. From this study I also determined that what I always imagined was the most sensitive part of the ribs is mostly cartilage, so that lines up actually. I promise I don’t have a thing for rib cages. But they are cool. Mostly I just wanna figure out how to draw them.

This one was one of the earliest and honestly it wasn’t even meant to be spicy, just soft.

I posted this and then later deleted it bc I got embarrassed. I do still think it’s funny though. But like c’mon. You know human Asteri has a great time in the DDAU, being married to a guy with up to 12 hands

There was an in between sketch where Asteri stood up like “UGHHH YOU KNOW I CANT RESIST WHEN YOU DO THAT” and Gaster was all “hehehe >:3” but it was extremely messy and this gets the point across. Old(er) people who get it on. On the floor. Heh. Gaster’s face in the last one always makes me chuckle.

The sole Asteri picture. I just had this really neat image in my head for this, um. Uh. One… scene. I was imagining. And I wanted to capture it bc I thought it was pretty cool. Unfortunately, it looks too much like she’s ripping her chest open, rather than pulling her form aside from each direction like fabric or like… if you could part water with your fingers. Anyway I forgot her wings. And I never posted this bc it got a little too horny-charged.

[lockedtowers]

im supposed to be getting ready for work so heres some run ons

aka brina rambles, also this is not rebloggable for a reason. this is shit ive worked on for ages. across blogs i have deleted and everything. i dont want random ppl rbing it without permission and taking info and i want it set up so if the info is taken it can still be traced back here. esp with how long ive been deciding on names for those courts lmao. they’re not the most ingenius or anything but i still put work into it yknow.

so anyways basically cassies bio dad vas is ofc a full blood fae, and a hybrid of the two main ‘courts’ by wonderland standards bc ofc im going with the basis that is shown both in syfy canon and ouat canon of wonderland denizens have a very different physiology to other realms, Jefferson in ouat remembered everything in his original life and just had the new memories shoved into his head too which drove him upending, i write that into cassie she has her old memories because of her physiology but the new memories didnt really settle in her head at all, so she only has vague understanding of it all. her twin brother has all his old memories but he also has the new ones so he very much so leans into the ‘im gonna fuck around and see what happens cause this is great’ bc hes a clown, but anyways. and yes i play it as jefferson is from wonderland, i write my jeffy on my sideblog, i also write grace, ima do what i want, but abc kept going back and forth with it, they mention his home in ouatiw but then in ouat they imply hes not from there so they didnt give a shit either, i can do what i want

but again main point, there’s no reason why other realms faeries would have the same physiology as wonderland faeries would, and ive played it into threads too before, the general descriptions of cheshire cats generally lean heavily faerie like, cassie is the cheshire while her twin brother is the dormouse, in syfy verse those are more titles than actual being. but shes a faerie she has an animal transformation which makes that also an actual being, and while her title is generally just ‘cat’ to most people, she is aligned with and technically a cheshire cat, she has the grin they associate with cheshires and she often times acts as a sort of guide, but also a very annoying pot stirrer in multiple ways, and a main thing that i play on a lot is how she guides ‘oysters’ aka humans to hatter, which is something people dont bring up a lot. in aaiw the cheshire cat is essentially toying with alice and leading her on to where she should go, and while alice is following the rabbit, the cat is manipulating the system in its own way as well. im actually gonna go buy another crappy edition of aaiw just so i can annoyingly tab it and stuff and im debating a cruddy paper one or a good hardcover— anyways

so like obviously creative liberties here, faeries arent really canon to wonderland at all but like fair folk magical aspects are still present, like the pig turning into a baby and shit, all the wildcarding that happens. creative liberties, its free media now to do whatever the fuck you want. i know many people hate adaptions and im sorry they hate fun im gonna do what i want.

now most commonly people separate fae by seelie and unseelie, or ‘good and bad’ faeries is often how they describe seelie and unseelie. and whilst im sort of doing similar (but giving them new names bc again, wonderland is not the human land, theres no reason that they have to have the same names) im also adding to it, adapting it, etc etc. Even in the separate courts, there are subtypes, but the royal families of each court would have at least a basic gift with all the powers of the subtypes, which is essentially why they’re the ‘royal family’ despite their own powers being so much weaker than an individual only showcasing one subtype of magic. more equals greater, despite the obvious issues with that, more or less.

The two ‘courts’ or ‘good and bad’ as the ‘good’ would have one believe, the current names i have going for them would essentially be translated to Deyreins, the ‘good’, and Bludveils, the ‘bad’ (i still have to fix the spelling on my bios on the sideblog tho lol). Bludveils centuries ago were cursed by the Deyreins to an eternal binding of honesty, which means they have to be truthful in words, but they can use twist the truth through twisting and confusing tales, purposefully manipulating it to sound like something else while theyre still being truthful, and basically just using loopholes to get their way. And the results of that curse is used against them to frame them as massively villainous, cruel, and evil creatures. What the Deyreins did not count on was the Queen of Hearts using this to further her own gain, and villainizing both sides as a way to essentially wipe them out from the face of Wonderland. Those that are left on Wonderlands main plane hide their species, and the rest had to escape to an astral plane to protect themselves from her.

But a large portion already had to escape because of Cassie’s father. Most will only recognize him by one of two names, the White Knight who destroyed the house of black and gave reign to the Reds and Whites, or as the monster, the creature of everyones darkest fears, the creature accused of slaughtering villages for fun and embarking on chaotic destruction for the thrill, The Jabberwock. By all accounts, he is both. His animal transformation is the monster itself and he was always the one taking the head, but never the one given the crown. Which is ironic given his existence is due to a romantic tryst between a noble of the Deyrein court and a royal of the Bludveil court. The twins didn’t get equal parts of the bloodlines the way he did, Cassandra inherited a lot more Bludveil than Deyrein, the curse affects her too, but Mason got almost nothing from it. It’s recessive in his body, but the curse doesn’t act on him. he has nothing to worry about, she does.

They’re only have fae though, the other half is Witch, their mother is the Queen of Spades and an extremely powerful sorceress, and trysts like that are not meant to happen according to the Deyrein courts, they are not supposed to exist. they’re essentially not allowed to because that threatens the order the deyreins built for themselves centuries ago and regularly slaughter bludveils for trying to fight against. no matter which way its sliced or diced, they’re in danger from just about every single point. if their family bloodlines got out, from the hearts for threatening the fact they stole the crown from the rightful heirs, from the deyrein fae for threatening their control over the other plane because its proof they can coexist in ways other than treaties and threats and submission.

and ofc jack is just a bitch whos mad cassie didnt bend the knee to him, is obsessed with her anyways due to her fae magic, and doesnt want his crown threatened that he never earned in the first place. he’ll say otherwise like ph i played my mother and i worked for the resistance, bitch you stole that land you stole that crown get fucked, anyways.

thats all my rambles on that bc funnily enough this was supposed to be about what blood does to cassie lol and i never got there.

[symphonicspecter]

idk if anyone ever looked at my tags list but I realized I haven’t update in a while. So I went to add some fandoms and realized…

ICK. HP was still on there from back before I knew how shit the creator is. I have removed that from my tag list.

I want to make it clear that I do NOT support HP or JKR. And no, I’m not even pirating. I am entirely done with them and very, very opposed. I will be doing a quick sweep to check for any old posts reblogged and delete them. I doubt anyone would look that far back but still, I want no traces.

I want all my followers to know that while some years ago I was a slight fan, I have since learned more about JKR and the antisemitism in the franchise and have entirely stopped engaging with it.

If you’re following me or thinking about following me and you still support or engage with HP, get out of here. You’re not welcome. If you don’t know why HP/JKR is such an issue, please do some research. I don’t know that I can articulate as well as many others already have, so please look for how other people explain the harm done by this franchise. In short, HP pushes blatant antisemitism and JKR is very anti trans and a TERF. And please, listen to and lift the voices of Jewish and trans folks who speak on the matter.

I believe that those of you unaware can learn why this is a problem. Not knowing is okay, but it’s not alright to ignore and choose not to educate yourself. If you understand the hatred expressed by JKR and still want to support her or her work, fuck you, don’t even look my way.

I want to be clear that any other franchise or person I show enjoyment of on this blog that is actually hateful and discriminatory, I do not know is that way. Please educate me. I don’t want to support or advocate harmful ideas.

[somethingironicallycool]

Let’s talk about cults- a letter to witchblr

You probably know me from this blog or perhaps from @desertandstorm or maybe you just never heard of me. The point is, I used to consider myself magically inclined. Unfortunately, it’s been ruined for me. People always say that you never expect to join one and honestly that is incredibly true! These people were my friends and my mentors, I never knew it would blow up in my face like that.  When we think of spiritual safety, people on this site most often bring up spirits or herb safety, never fully touching on the topic of the overlap of covens vs. cults. I don’t blame them, it is truly a messy subject to properly handle without convincing someone all covens are cults (which is absolutely not true) So here’s my go at it based off of my experiences RED FLAGS

They’re pushy about their beliefs 

They try and separate you from the “others”

Slander other groups

proclaim they’re the only right

“nobody else knows what they’re doing”

Something about them just always has to be one step ahead 

The head of the coven can’t accept criticism 

Denial of problems

Conflicting info and logical fallacies 

This is iffy but casual godphoning of several gods and goddesses especially ones that they just started working with

Invasive actions such as unwanted readings and spells

(goes with the last one) refusal to take responsibility 

Gaslighting and other forms of emotional manipulation

treat you special when you first join

leave you in the dust after you lose your novelty

(please feel free to add more in reblogs)

you feel like you’re failing them somehow

your mental health worsens because of them

COMMON MISCONCEPTIONS

This list is based off of my own struggles I’m still trying to come to grips with

Cults are only physical!

I got snagged by a Discord server. They can be anywhere where you are vulnerable.

Cult leaders are creepy old dudes

The ring leader was a dude in college. They can also start off as your friends. Cults exist to take advantage, there is no set way for them to appear

Aren’t cults like devil worshippers?

No, we were a diverse group who all didn’t share practices. (I’m a pop pagan and no one else was)

It’s so obvious

While I knew something was wrong, it wasn’t until after I left and someone pointed it out I realized what I was in. 

Isn’t the damage physical? like brandings and shit

No, the damage was very much psychological and spiritual. While I believe someone did carve their arm under the influence of a leader, nothing physical happened to me. However, I can’t touch Aphrodite, Lilith, or Loki related things given their current associations. I can’t even worship Set now because I feel... dirty, like I was such a fool. 

WHAT TO DO

once more based off of my experiences if someone would like to add advice for physical situations please do 

Assess your situation

if they hit a good amount of red flags, they’re probably a cult

if they hit a few red flags, they’re a toxic group

Leave 

Cult or toxic group it doesn’t matter. They showed red flags, it isn’t worth it.

You’re going to feel alone, it’s ok. It’s ok to feel alone after all that time. You aren’t alone in that.  

Cut ties

Delete all related social media you used pertaining to the group

Make sure to work backwards so they can’t trace you 

Delete everything that could’ve touched your tumblr or discord or however else you were in contact. 

If you can’t delete certain accounts, change the username/ profile pic/ description and lock it down to private 

Pick a new internet handle to go under for awhile and don’t tell people your old name. fae rules. 

Lay low around the spiritual community and don’t try and interact unless it’s with people you trust 

Breathe

It’s ok.

I’m serious we’ll get over this

To those struggling right now, you are strong you are brave

I know it’s so hard to feel like you’re so small that everything you did was lies, but please don’t let your work go to waste. Your first reaction will probably be to destroy your previous alters or delete all your journal posts, but just hold on to them. Save them for later you might be surprised. 

Your pain is valid 

Closing thoughts

Quite frankly, I miss spirituality. I miss the community it brought. I miss the Dolorosa and working with Sutekh. I am beyond pissed that was forcibly taken from me, and even now, slowly but surely, I am trying to make my way back to where I was. Before making this post, I was ashamed. So horribly ashamed of myself and just filled with disgust and hatred. I also used to worship Aphrodite and to see her have been made a mockery of just breaks my heart

and its ok. 

I accept my normal now wasn’t the normal before. To expect my mind to just ignore everything that happened is stupid. That isn’t what healing is. Healing is... acceptance. Not of what happened, but of yourself. I will honor those that I used to by honoring myself and striving to create my own future free from those that wish me harm. 

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.04

10/23/2020

Strong Arms and Honest Kisses

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 3,636

Warnings: failed relationships, talks of lonliness, angst, FLUFF, complicated relationships

A/N: This one is a little shorter than my chapters recently. Part of this is because this felt like a complete chapter but I also did a lot of rewriting with this one. I wrote half of it, then deleted it. Then wrote it again. Then deleted it. I finally got a good flow going and this is the one I liked the most. I hope y’all like it too. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please do not REPOST my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome and appreciated!

The walk back to your room is awkward.

Full of fluttering hesitant energy.

There’s a new electricity between your body and Thor’s as he walks beside you, heavy feet falling slowly, with forethought.

He has his hands behind his back, feeling the need to keep them to himself after what happened in the garden.

You appreciate the space.

“That was my first kiss.” You admit, hating the silence between you because it feels like both of you want to say so much but are unwilling to speak first.

“Oh,” Thor laments, his gaze wavering. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” You rush to reassure him, shrugging a shoulder as you look straight once more. “I-I mean, you wanted a maiden, right? A virgin?”

When you look at him, he’s blushing, his cheeks a soft pink underneath that hay colored beard.

It’s cute and you feel a surge of warmth for him fill your chest.

“That wasn’t necessarily what I wanted.” He clarifies.

“Oh…” Your turn to lament. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, a flurry of worries come rushing forward. You don’t have any experience. None. Zero. Tonight has been the most action you’ve ever seen in your life.

No one has ever held your hand.

No one has ever been so caring and sweet.

No one has definitely ever kissed you.

No one has ever proposed.

You have no experience to offer Thor, as a wife, will you be able to satisfy him?

He’s a literal God. He’s really, super old, and has probably slept with lots of women…or…beings? Aliens?

How are you going to live up to that?

“I just…I’ve never even really liked anyone, so I never was with anyone, and I’m sorry-” You fret, stopping to look up at him.

He places his hands over yours, stopping your fidgeting.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He whispers gently.

You meet his blue eye and it’s just as soft as his voice.

“We can talk about that part of our marriage later. Let’s take this one day at a time.”

“But I-I don’t know what to do with that. I mean, I kinda know but I don’t know. I don’t want to-I’m kinda scared of-”

Thor’s blush returns and your own neck is suddenly burning.

That previously terrifying image of Thor prying your legs open that you’d imagined back at home replays itself in your mind, this time the fear is not for the man himself but the act in general.

Thor’s hands finding the side of your neck interrupt your vocal vomit.

With you silenced, he traces the lines of your shoulders, the length of your arms before he takes hold of your elbows over your cloak which is keeping them warm.

“We have time, cherub.” The pet name comes out of nowhere and sounds so strange but good and you’re not sure you know how to breathe anymore. “Time to worry about many things later. Tonight, let’s just enjoy this agreement to try.”

With a lick to your lips, you nod, shutting your eyes as you’re overwhelmed by not only the pleasure that stupid pet name has given you but also his hands still wrapped around your elbows.

“Thank you for telling me.” Thor whispers, pulling you a little closer. “These are things that are good to know. I will be sure to make preparations for us.”

“Preparations?” You nearly squeak.

“Things to make it easier for you. But as I said,” his ears grow nice and red too, now. “We have plenty of time to think about that later. Almost three days!”

You scoff, “That’s not a lot of time, Thor.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I suppose you’re right.”

“This is happening so fast.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I’ve been putting this choice off for so long that now that I’ve made it, they want me to follow through quickly.” Thor takes a step back, reaching down to take your hand.

You eagerly hold his hand back, grateful for the comfort it gives you but also you really like holding his hand, you realize.

“Let’s get you to bed. Even though Hilde was completely drunk, she’ll still wake up early enough to make you hate her.” He pulls you along, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze every few steps.

“Thor?”

“Hm?” He asks, not sparing you a glance.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” Your own eyes are glued to his hand around yours.

You seriously like the way his hand looks around yours. Why are you letting yourself fall this hard? It’s not right. It’s not fair. To you. To him.

“Do what?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“This.” You give your hand a shake, the two of you rounding the corner to the hall where your room is.

He doesn’t stop walking until he reaches the door. He twists the knob and pulls it open, stepping in with you before turning to close it.

Swallowing hard, you try not to lose your breath again. There’s a pressure in your chest that you know is coming from the way he shut that door.

He turns, strutting towards you as he keeps hold of your hand. You take several steps back until your legs hit the edge of your bed forcing you to sit.

For a moment you think he might move over you, just like that image in your head. Instead he sits down beside you.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” He asks, pulling your hand over onto his lap.

“I hope so.” You relax, waiting patiently as he takes a deep breath.

“I haven’t seen Jane in almost three months.” He explains. “She’s been secluded in an installation in the middle of nowhere. In Wyoming? And I’ve been so busy here…this is the same struggle we always have. I cannot get away because of my own duties now much more formal and inescapable as King. And Jane’s work has always been the most important thing to her.

“I knew that when we agreed to try again but I was hoping that we might both take some time to prioritize our relationship. Jane was the first person I met when I was sent here. She was kind and patient. She was brilliant. Smartest person I’ve ever met. Smarter than Stark and Banner, don’t tell them I told you that.” He smiles. “But it’s that very brain that keeps her focus elsewhere. And I don’t begrudge her that passion. It’s one of the reasons I fell for her.

“But we don’t seem to be able to make it work.”

Hearing him praise her so much, love her so openly dries your throat and you can’t swallow to push past the lump there to speak. So, you say nothing.

“This,” Thor pulls your hand up a little, readjusting and holding it more securely. “This feels good.”

That helps.

“But you wish it was her?” You wonder.

Thor goes silent, averting his eyes to his hand around yours.

“Not anymore.” He sighs. “Until tonight, I would have said yes. I would have given anything for you to be Jane. To marry the woman I love? How could I not want that? It’s what I’ve always hoped for.”

You feel disappointment pull your body down, shoulders slumped, head falling so that you don’t have to look at him anymore.

You feel strong fingers take hold of your chin, gently tilting your head back until you can meet his electric blue eye.

“When I met you, I was surprised. I’d met with woman, after woman, after woman, after woman-”

“Alright, I get it.” You frown.

Thor stops to laugh but then nods, “Sorry. I only mean that every woman I met, all the other princesses and duchesses and ladies once related to direct royal families were kind but there was something calculating about the way they spoke. They were careful with the things they said and I didn’t feel like I was really getting to know them.”

“But with me?”

“With you, I-it was like recognizing someone that I’d known my whole life. You sat there, terrified but unable to keep from speaking your mind. You were honest about not wanting to marry for anything but love and I understood how you felt. I’d made up my mind not to choose you then. I didn’t want to take from you what was being taken from me, but I-the more I thought about marrying one of those women…I told myself I would let you find someone you could be with, even as my wife.

“We’d keep it secret. You could be with them and I would give you your privacy and let you live that life while protecting it for you.” He sighs. “Then you came here, and dinner brought me hope. I didn’t think that you could ever want to feel any other way for me than that disappointment I saw cross your face when I asked you to marry me and live your life with me without feeling loved.”

“Neither did I.” You confess, words coming out in a rush. “I hated you when I came here. I hated my family for being related to royalty. I hated that I was suddenly being asked to think about shit that I honestly, didn’t even care about! And then I met you and you were nice and confused and you asked me that stupid fucking question about my ideal marriage and I had no one else to picture so I pictured you and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Thor smiles, “If I’m honest, that’s also what drew me to you. To be fair though, I didn’t ask any of the other women that question, but it was clear without them having to say so that they were after the prestige that comes with being a human Queen of Asgard.”

“But I know that you still love her.” You continue, ignoring the sweet smile he’s giving you because your mind will not stop fretting. “I know that you’d much rather have it be Jane so, I’m only saying that you don’t have to force yourself to hold my hand or show me affection when you don’t feel it.”

Thor sighs heavily, a huff as he takes hold of your head with both massive hands and pulls you towards him to meet his lips.

This time your surprise only lasts a second before you squeeze your eyes shut and pucker your lips back against his.

You can feel his body shake and you tear your eyes open, searching for what’s making him laugh but find him watching you.

He pulls back, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“Relax. There’s no need to be nervous.” He whispers, deep. It settles in your chest cavity and you really like the sound of his voice.

“I’ve never kissed before.” You remind him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Kissing is easy.” Thor tells you. “Just pucker your lips,”

You do as he asks, self-conscious but eager to feel that kiss again.

“Then let me do the rest.” He pulls you back to him and your eyes shut as his lips meet yours.

It’s only a peck. A held one. Until Thor’s hands guide your head to the right as he tilts his to the left and suddenly his lips are overlapping your own. They’re hot, wet, and his breath tickles.

You jump as the tip of his tongue rolls along the seam of your mouth and without making the choice to do it, you open for him and he delves in slowly. Your body is suddenly humming, your mind overcome, and it all feels like a dream.

He inhales as he kisses you, tongue swirling around your own and you don’t know what to do so you reach out to grip the edge of his armor around his chest, hands fisted around the leather while he leads you in this dizzy dance.

He tilts your head the other way, breaking the kiss to take a breath giving you a second to gasp, but then he’s back on you, smothering your whimper of surprise with his lips.

As he presses against yours again, he dives in with more excitement, mouth open, tongue tasting.

You’re trembling, legs shaking with nerves as your hands hold on harder.

As he pulls away, lips smacking quietly, he caresses your cheeks again, letting you come down from your high.

He waits patiently until your eyes open, searching wildly to see what you might find in his.

All you find is his own searching, his own curiosity.

“Um…” You mumble, voice barely audible.

“If you let me in,” He says, his breath washing over your lips again making the past few minutes replay in vivid color. “I will open for you. I think we can do this right. I want to do this right. Will you do this with me?”

Your hands are shaking around his arm, still reeling from that kiss. Holy shit.

“I already said yes.” You point out.

“Say it again.” Thor pleads, scooting closer.

You’re almost completely pulled against his chest, hands squished between your bodies.

“This is happening so fast.” You gasp, confused but happy.

“It has to.” He nods. “I want it to.”

“But how do I know it’s real?” You wonder, and to answer you, Thor crushes you against his chest, head dipping until he meets your lips again.

“It’s real.” He says, tilting your head again, coaxing your mouth open.

You respond more eagerly this time, letting your tongue swirl around his to meet it in its frenzy. Your heart pounds with excitement. This is new and you can understand why people like it. You’ve wondered in passing what it would feel like when you saw it happen in films and shows, taking the books you’d read as gospel for what it feels like but they pale in comparison to the reality.

It’s a haze of pleasure. Foggy but the emotions sharp. It’s also possessive. It feels like yours now. This with Thor can never belong to anyone else. The very thought of it being felt by someone else breaks your heart and also boils your blood.

It makes you bolder, pulling him closer where you have hold of him.

“Let me in.” Thor whispers against your lips, giving you one small final peck. “It’s real for me, I swear to you.”

Can you trust him?

Everything he’s said so far makes sense. His disillusionment with his relationship with Jane is not fake. You were able to hear the sadness in his voice, the acceptance when he explained what was happening with her.

“If you can try to love me, I will try to love you.” He whispers, reaching down with his thumb to trace the shape of your lower lip.

You shut your eyes, seduced by his touch.

“You’re not playing fair,” You sigh. “This is coercion.”

Opening your eyes, you find Thor smiling, and you wonder if this is what he looks like when he likes someone. Is this him smitten?

You don’t think so.

You can’t wrap your mind around him being anything but tolerant of you. He’d been so vocal about loving Jane that you can’t see how only meeting with you twice might override that, even if they are currently struggling.

“I already told you yes! Brunnhilde was right about you.”

“And I want to hear you say it again. For good measure.” He traces the line of your jaw, cup your chin from beneath once he reaches it. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you’ll try with me. We’ll do everything in our power and devote ourselves to each other. You’ll love me and I will love you.”

His words give your stomach flutters and the way he’s holding your chin makes it so that you can’t look away to clear your head.

So, you nod. “I will love you, Thor. We’ll make this work. As long as you never touch me unless you really want to. I don’t want you to force it. I want it to be real.”

Desperately, you want it. Now more than ever.

“Deal.” Thor says, then wraps one arm around your shoulders and meets your lips again.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake with a gasp, reaching around for something though you don’t know what. No one had slept with you.

The bed is rightfully empty. As you sit up, you remember every little detail of last night. The words that were spoken, the declarations made, the kisses.

Oh, fuck, the kisses!

You lay back down, heart pounding while you urge yourself to think of every single shift of Thor’s lips against your own.

They’d been so hot, and wet once he’d French kissed you. His tongue had been thick and smooth in its movements. Skilled though you don’t know what you’d compare it to in order to know that for sure.

His arms had been huge and strangely safe. Wrapped up around you, he’d been a powerhouse of heat and strength, lulling you into a calm you’ve never felt before.

Reaching up to scratch your forehead, a small shine catches your eye, and you find your engagement ring, dazzling you with its beauty and the memory of Thor on one knee.

For a moment you’re almost sure that you’ll wake up and all of this will be a dream. A good dream that you had no idea you could ever have wanted.

Then a knock on your door makes you jump, and you sit up again.

Through the door marches Brunnhilde with the swagger of a soldier heading into battle, her clothes relaxed however, plain jeans, a red sweater, and heavy work boots.

“Good!” She smiles at you, “You’re awake! Estrid, bring in Her Highness’s breakfast and set aside one of the other dresses His Majesty bought for her.”

“I’m wearing another uncomfortable dress?” Your sorrow is clear and Brunnhilde smiles at you, her eyes flitting towards your ring. “So, that’s what they were up to.”

You follow her gaze and take a long look at your ring, “Who?”

“Loki and Thor.” Estrid moves past Brunnhilde, heading towards the desk at the far side of the room and places it there before she hurries to the armoire to sift through the dresses. “They’d disappeared a few days ago, went shopping or so they said. I didn’t believe them but clearly, they told me the truth. Just didn’t think they were shopping for a ring. It’s pretty.”

“It’s a lotus flower.” You tell her, throwing your blankets back and sliding to the edge of the bed. “He said he didn’t know that I liked flowers but was happy that I did since I’d like the ring more.”

“He said that?” She wonders, grabbing your robe from the vanity seat then offering it to you.

Taking it, you slip it on and tie it loosely around your waist. The smell of the food pulls you to the desk and you sit, immediately picking apart the eggs and toast.

“Mm.” You nod. “He did. He also said that he really wants to try. He’s willing to really give us a shot.”

Brunnhilde sits on the end of your bed, watching you eat with the space between her eyes puckered.

“Then he’s chosen to give her up finally.” Brunnhilde realizes, surprise painting her tone.

You look at her, intrigued by her own surprise.

“Is that weird?”

“No. Not weird, just unlikely. I never thought he’d really give up on Jane. They were so in love in the beginning when we first arrived. They were always together. Slowly they saw each other less and less, but his devotion never wavered.” She explains.

This doesn’t make you feel good. In fact, hearing about how deep their love was—is—unsettles you.

Fork still in your mouth, you watch her, mind racing.

“Eat up, Your Highness.” Brunnhilde says, rising. “Get dressed and meet me in the main hall. We have to go into town for your wedding dress fitting.”

As she moves for the door and Estrid crosses the room to your bed to lay out a stunning navy dress that looks way too formal for a dress fitting, you turn in your seat, hands grasping the back as you twist to follow her.

“Is Thor awake?”

“Yes.” Brunnhilde nods. “He left about half an hour ago for Wyoming to go see Jane, I assume to break things off with her.”

“Oh,” You shrink, fears you didn’t know you could have choking you.

What if he sees her and realizes he loves her too much to let her go? What if she changes her mind and decides that watching him marry someone else is unbearable? She decides to marry him and then he comes back to tell you that she’s agreed to be Queen and he no longer needs you?

Last night had only cemented your growing feelings for Thor and there is no way you can ever go back to before those kisses.

“He’ll be back tonight.” Brunnhilde assures you, but it only drives you crazier.

Why does he need until tonight?

Why so long? How many kisses will he give her? How many hugs will she take?

You shouldn’t begrudge him this goodbye. You should accept that with it will come with tears and affection that you already see as yours. You don’t want her to have it but it’s not yours yet. It’s intended for you, but right now Thor’s love is still hers.

This God of Thunder has absolutely wrecked you and it’s clear to you that you can never go back to your little home without him. You can never live a life where his arms are not around you.

You’re absolutely fucked.

[zhoras-bitch]

I've been asked by the user of the account prettybitchywitchy to explain to some of their followers that her account has been canceled without warning and its completely gone. She thinks is because of the spoilers again though this time she was respecting the only 5 pictures rule in most of her posts, but also we think that maybe the ironic ,sassy, sarcastic comments about "discouraging people by playing" were too somehow as harassment but its only a theory. The only thing sure is that someone in lovestruck was responsible since the account was exclusively for commenting spoilers.

I hope it’s okay that I’m posting your ask (message me if it’s not) but I think people in the fandom should be aware of the potential danger they’re in. It sounds kind of dramatic but I mean it. On tumblr, if you receive 3 strikes within 18 months, your account will be terminated. All of your likes and subscriptions, your messages and all of the content you’ve ever posted, including your side blogs. All of your hard work, time, emotional investment, gone without a trace.

Most of you already know Lovestruck has been sending strikes left and right. But not going to lie, in the back of my mind I still thought that it was just some sort of a scare tactic. Like, they’re not actually going to go all the way, right? If you’re under the same misconception, I just want to emphasize: they absolutely are.

Ever since Lovestruck announced their new policy (5 screenshots, no full CGs etc.), I was doing everything to comply with their rules. And today I got a strike anyway. No warnings, no messages. On a post I made months ago, before the Lovestruck started enforcing these rules. The post is deleted now but luckily I was able to restore a cached copy (the images were screenshots from season 1 of Ezra's route).

Firstly, the purpose of this post is clearly comment/criticism. Secondly, although it does use over 5 screenshots, all of them come from different scenes and are only used to illustrate the points that I make. Thirdly, it's completely positive, encouraging people to read the route.

I started this blog one and a half years ago, and since then I've made over 500 posts. Even if most of them are screenshots with small captions, it's also memes, aesthetics, fanfiction, reviews. It's something I loved and put hours of my time in. What do they want from me? Go through all of it, destroying my own work to comply with their new whim? Or sit here in constant fear that my blog can be taken down at any time? Being targeted like this, I feel hurt. Confused. Betrayed.

The actions that Lovestruck is taking seem to make no sense. They are attacking content makers, the most devoted part of the fanbase. They are losing old fans and getting less new players by discouraging engagement on social media. At this point it's hard not to assume that there's some malicious intent on Lovestruck's side, like it's their weird evil scheme to purge their fanbase of all old players who remember their mishaps, leaving only the blissfully unaware newcomers. But the truth is, I believe, that they actually, really, truly don't get it. And I don't even know which one is worse.

All of this has been said before. This post is not a call to action. I don't know what to do. Sometimes I feel like just giving up.

Don't let it get to you. Take a break if you need it. Save your content. Be kind to each other and stay together. Maybe that way we can shout loud enough to get through to them.

[sepublic]

My Icons so far

To keep track of the icons I’ve had so far, in order and for personal sentimental posterity, with context behind each;

This skeleton icon was made for me by @jankybones after I commissioned them for it! The origins behind this one all trace back to the first type of social media I ever used, the Lego Messageboards... Embarrassing I know, but my time there holds a special place in my heart, and I’m still sad they were deleted!

Options for your avatar were ordered as the legs, torso, head, and hat- Like the composition of any Lego minifigure! And I put together a skeleton with a cowboy hat... An image I held dear to me, and basically my online face and identity, what I associated with the moniker of Sepublic, for years!

Since I’d latched onto the name of Sepublic as a permanent internet title, I decided to keep it for other accounts and social media- For consistency and recognition, because my young naive self kind of hoped to be recognized by others who’d moved on from the Lego Messageboards, one day!

(And it sort of DID work too!)

By the time I got a blog here on Tungle, I eventually decided to make an actual icon for myself, beyond the placeholder ones... So inevitably I decided to do some variation on this classic cowboy skeleton, as an homage to my url! Hence the commission, hence the skeleton!

Then we have Anne Boonchuy, yelling in surprise after she’s interrupted from putting together her koala puzzle, ruining it! This was in preparation for the Season 2 Amphibia finale of True Colors, because it became a trend to have screaming Amphibia characters as icons amongst the fandom, to represent our unprepared fear for the episode!

Alas, True Colors was delayed, so these screaming reaction images proved prophetic in a different way... But like everyone else, I held onto this icon through the delay, figuring that once True Colors came and passed, I could move past from commemorating this occasion and go back to my old icon!

That... Didn’t happen, because then True Colors left me utterly despondent and in despair over Marcy Wu. So entirely depressed that I changed my icon to Marcy, in an attempt to pay tribute to her memory, and the nerdy hyperactivity that this girl stood for...

To console myself with a Marcy that was happy in Amphibia, happy in her role, who still believed in this adventure and fantasy with Anne and Sasha, one of whom she’d reunited with after all this time! A Marcy from before the tragedy, wishful thinking and nostalgic reminiscing... In honor of her like she actually DID die, that was a wild time of my life! But eventually, I had to move on...

Because then the Season 2 trailer for The Owl House came out, and I had to switch to TOH nose! I wanted to commemorate this special occasion, and in preparation for this long-awaited second season, after a year-long hiatus (not unlike the wait for Amphibia’s second season, with TOH’s airing right after the other one ended), I decided to adopt a TOH icon from Season 2!

(Fun fact, I almost chose a Golden Guard icon, but opted out because it seemed too obvious. But for a few seconds I did use it, so I’ll bring it up here, even if it doesn’t really count IMO.)

Ultimately I settled for Jean-Luc, well before we knew his name and before the early screening was even announced! I chose him simply because he looked cool and I vibed with him, especially Jean-Luc’s aesthetic; It is heavily reminiscent of Belos, so obviously that piqued my interest. I thought Jean-Luc’s nature would connect to and provide answers on Belos, as well as King and the possibly the origin of the Boiling Isles itself...

While one of these has proven to be true, so far we have yet to see the others be confirmed, if at all! I’m still fairly certain on Belos and Jean-Luc connections, they look too damn similar, and with the end of Season 2A, I think I’ve finally figured out what that connection might be... But for now, I still need to wait to see what Belos answers Jean-Luc will provide that I’ve been eagerly waiting for, if any!

And I’ve gotten to used to this Jean-Luc icon that I’ve yet to return to my original, cowboy skeleton! I’ll probably do that eventually, but who knows... Maybe I could do another icon now, for fun? Move on from the original, update my online persona’s face and identity? I’ve got a couple of ideas...

But yeah, will I go back to my old skeleton cowboy icon, like I’d been planning to- With Anne Boonchuy originally intended as a temporary deviation, before a long series of events changed those plans? Or will I move onto a new personal icon... Perhaps another commission, or just a random image of my own choosing, to celebrate this transition to the future, a new phase of myself!

And/or, I won’t change my icon back at all, and just stick with Jean-Luc... Up until something else gives me a reason to change, such as the trailer for TOH Season 2B, or whatever else catches my fancy! We’ll see and I’ll make up my mind, if at all... In which case the procrastinating default is Jean-Luc until then!

[the1918]

‘video’

Part 1/6 in the series entitled: 

“Lynne Finds Her 2005 Bandslash Livejournal and Changes All The Names to ‘Steve’ and ‘Bucky,’ With Little to No Additional Editing and it Actually Almost Works...?”

Title: “Video” (2.4k Words)

Fandom: MCR MCU

Pairing: Frank/Gerard + voyeur!Bob Steve/Bucky + voyeur!Tony

Rating: NC-17  E (Explicit) - because we go by Ao3 ratings nowadays

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own the members of My Chemical Romance. This never happened. Thank you, Ao3, for existing so that I no longer need to make these statements.

Tags: Top Bucky, Bottom Steve, voyeurism, sex tapes, anal sex, oral sex (blowjobs and rimming), throat fucking, some possible polyamory vibes at the end (that honestly did not translate well from the original bandom text, but I’m keeping it for ~artistic purity~)

Summary: Frank's email has a video attachment.  Bucky’s text has a video.

[A/N: As the series name suggests, I copied my own My Chemical Romance fanfiction from the mid-00′s and changed all the names. For the sake of purity for this little blogging performance piece, I changed little to no additional details, refused beta, and I made almost no adjustments for characterization except where the original details made absolutely no sense. Enjoy—I know 17-year old Lynne certainly did.]

***

When Tony plops down at the desk in his workshop after a long day and opens the text from Barnes, he doesn’t exactly know what he’s expecting, but it’s definitely not this.

It’s a video message. Barnes has sent videos before. Usually they contain footage of his cat—Tony thinks its name is ‘Albert’ or something equally as atrocious—or maybe hidden footage of Banner picking his nose when he thinks no one’s looking.

This is not one of those videos.

Initially, it’s nothing hugely alarming. Unusual, yes, but at first he’s just watching Steve sitting on the edge of what Tony recognizes as one of the beds in the tower—probably Barnes’ bed, if the literal rack of combat knives in the background is anything to go on—and Steve’s looking at the camera with some combination of a beet-red face and an expression like he’s trying not to smile.

Tony hears Bucky’s voice for the first time, apparently from behind the camera (phone, tablet, whatever). It’s low, scratchy, and it does not match the expression on Steve’s flushed and jittery face one bit.

“Tell Tony why you’re here, baby—“

“—You know he’s going to delete this the second he gets it—”

“—Tell him.”

Steve’s huffs and rolls his eyes, but then he’s straightening his face and actually looking at the camera. It’s kind of deadly, actually.

“I’m here because Bucky wants you to see me get fucked.”

He holds Tony’s gaze through the lens, three seconds of bright blue.

The screen goes black.

There isn’t much time for Tony to relearn how to take a proper breath.

When the image returns, it’s not just Steve on the edge of the bed anymore. It’s Steve’s bare back, long and muscular and broad across the shoulders with that unfairly small waist, and then Barnes moves back with the camera and makes sure Tony can see Steve’s full glory on his knees with his hands on the headboard.

Barnes is breathing heavy; Tony can tell. Barnes is making sure to let Tony see every inch of Steve’s skin as he begins running his own hands along it, finally coming to his ass. It’s so small that it’s almost cute, but it’s firm and round like Tony always thought it looked through Steve’s ugly chinos. Barnes suddenly grabs the left cheek roughly, and a moan catches in Steve’s throat.

At this point, Tony’s brain can finally process that he’s watching a sex tape. His cock is way ahead of him, already fighting against the fabric of his sweatpants.

Barnes spends a moment caressing the smooth curves of his husband’s hips, and then rearranges himself and the camera so Tony is staring directly at Steve from behind. His legs are spread, cock hanging between them, full and ready and taut. He can see Steve’s head resting on his forearms, burying his face in his own skin.

Barnes slides a finger down the crack of Steve’s ass, applying pressure to the rose-colored pucker he finds. Tony knows now that Steve is familiar with Brazilian waxing.

“You wouldn’t believe how tight this is, Stark.”

His hand moves to cup Steve’s balls lightly, eliciting a whimper from Steve’s and a twitch from Tony’s own dick.

“He’s so fucking good, especially like this, all spread out so you can see him.”

Tony is helpless but to agree.

At first, he doesn’t comprehend the video switching again, but he sees a flicker and the lighting change that inevitably comes with homemade pornography before he notices the slick look of Barnes’ vibranium fingers as he goes to slide one into Steve’s ass.

Steve keens, moving his hips to take more in.

“Yeah, fuck. Just like that, baby.”

Fuck it, Tony thinks. He begins palming his cock through the restriction of his pants, feeling only vaguely guilty about it at this point.

The movement of Barnes’ finger in and out of Steve is easy and wet and completely obscene. He takes a second one without any struggle, a third with a little whimpering but even more encouragement.

Steve loosens under Barnes’ ministrations. The fingers inside him are crooked to tease but not to satisfy, and Tony is starting to think that he could really fucking get into this when the scene changes—again.

Barnes is holding his own cock in his free hand, which, hey, appears to be about as thick and beefy as his Hydra lab-rat body. Tony is both jealous and wildly turned on at this discovery.

Steve’s head suddenly appears in the frame, upside down for a reason Tony can’t quite determine until he realizes he’s hanging it off the edge of the bed. He looks up at Barnes’ camera, smiles a very secret upside down smile, like he and Tony are the only people that know about it.

“He likes this. Watch.”

Like I could look away, Tony thinks as he fucking finally lets himself touch his cock without any fabric to come between.

Steve wets his own lips and Barnes moves forward, tucking himself down into Steve’s mouth. Tony has never seen it done like this in professional porn, not quite as this angle, and shit.

His mouth is vivid red and stretched beautifully around Barnes as the man holding the camera begins thrusting slow, his cock disappearing and reappearing, going a little bit deeper each time. Steve’s eyes are closed, and the sounds he’s making are enough to make Tony wonder who the one getting their rocks off here.

“He’s always asking me to fuck him like this, too. Wants me in him however he can get me. He’s such a fucking slut, Stark.”

Tony is starting to really, really like way Barnes says his name.

Barnes pulls out completely, and then goes forward again, all the fucking way, enough that Steve almost chokes, but not quite. Barnes is busy telling him what a ‘Good fucking boy’ he is while his balls brush over Steve’s face and eyes, and then the man on the bed is running a hand down to his own blushing cock and—

Homemade porn is dizzy. Barnes is not holding the camera anymore.

Tony knows this because everything he sees is pale legs apart in the air and Barnes’ mismatched hands holding them there, his head between them and sucking lightly on the tip of Steve’s cock. He’s completely nude, looking up at the lens from across the pale expanse of Steve’s rippling torso and chest (pink, pink fucking little nipples that Tony really wants to pinch). He holds the camera’s gaze when he lets Steve fall from between his lips and moves his head down to where Tony can hardly see his face.

He doesn’t really need to see it to know where he’s burying it.

“He tastes amazing, Stark, fuck.”

Steve’s hips snap up off the bed, into Barnes’ face, and Barnes just grabs his hips tight and holds him there. Fantastic wet slurping sounds are coming out of his speakers as Tony wonders if Barnes’ tongue is fucking Steve’s ass or maybe just tracing his opening with it. The thought of either makes his fist pump faster.

The sounds that are coming out of Steve’s mouth, loud this close to the camera, just motivate Barnes to be more aggressive. He does something with his tongue that Tony can’t see but it makes Steve let out a pained moan like a dying man, and his leaking cock jumps where it’s resting on his belly.

“Fuck! God, Bucky! Just fuck—“

The screen goes black for the first time since the beginning of the video. If this is the end, Tony thinks, if it’s over and he’s not going to get to see what Steve practically fucking promised him, not minutes ago, if there’s no more on the tape and Tony’s going to have to finish himself off to thoughts of what it might have looked like—

Steve’s flushed face is looking at the lens, focusing somewhere past Tony, like he might be pushing some buttons on the phone or adjusting some settings. It must be on a surface, or a tripod, Tony decides, because the frame is too still for a human hand to be shooting it. After a moment, Steve stops and walks away, over to the bed where Barnes is waiting for him, sitting up with his legs casually spread out in front of him.

Steve straddles him, his knees on either side and his arms loosely thrown around Barnes’ shoulders. They kiss, for the first time the entire video, and if Tony’s being honest, it’s one of the most intense things he’s seen yet. Their mouths move like they’re trying to consume each other whole, like they’re trying to suck the souls out of each other’s throats. Steve shivers visibly and Tony thinks it might be a bit much for him.

Barnes brings his arms around Steve’s waist and pulls him in tight, so he’s splayed all across his lap and open, open for Barnes to reach down and run his fingers across his boy’s entrance lightly. Tony can see he’s already taken care of the condom when Steve starts rubbing the lube he poured into his hand onto Barnes’ cock, slow and firm in a way that makes Barnes moan and stop him, like if he goes anymore, he’ll shoot too soon.

Tony’s breath catches when finally, finally, he sees Barnes position himself for Steve to sink down onto. Steve’s head tilts back and his mouth falls, shameless and wanting as he lets Barnes into his body.

There’s a period of adjustment, where Steve looks like he’s just savoring the feel of his husband’s cock, full and thick inside him, before Barnes gets a rhythm going. He moves Steve up and down with his grip on his hips, thrusting up into him simultaneously. The light strain in his muscles is gorgeous, his arm glittering in the dim light.

Steve’s moans are all Tony can hear, loud and decadent in conjunction with the look on his face, all slack in ecstasy and eyes shut tight. He’s putting on a show, Tony can tell, but it’s too damn convincing for him to care.

Barnes slows for a second, but he keeps his hips pinned to Steve’s ass, rotating small circles inside him. He sets his chin on his lover’s shoulder and whispers into his ear hot, fucking criminal.

“Look at the camera, baby. Let Tony see your pretty face while I’m fucking you.”

And oh God, Steve kisses Barnes sweet and slow for a second before his head is turning, looking over his shoulder at the lens with most coy fucking look Tony has ever seen. He’s biting his lip and his mouth is still so fucking red and bright and everything about him, from the tight lines of his hips to the sandy blond hair dusting his thighs, takes Tony’s breath away.

Everything from then on is a blur. The video begins cutting more sporadically, and one moment Tony is looking at Steve’s body stretching around Barnes’ wide erection while Barnes holds the camera, and the next he’s watching Steve’s cock and balls bouncing against his abdomen while Barnes drives into him, hard and unforgiving.

Somewhere around, “Fuck Bucky, baby, you fuck me so good,” Tony starts to lose his grip on his own cock, hand sweaty and slippery from exertion. He’s getting close, and Barnes is swearing more often and when Steve said Tony was going to watch him get fucked, he meant get fucked.

The phone camera is settled on the mattress, moving with them, and Barnes is taking Steve from behind, chest and middle touching every inch of skin on Steve’s back. He reaches around to encircle the other man’s cock in his hand, and Steve groans obscenely.

“Stark wants to watch you come, Stevie. You want that? You want to show him how you shoot all over our nice new sheets?”

Steve’s fingers grasp the comforter tightly and Barnes’ hand slows to a steady, dragging pace. It’s the kind of pull that Tony knows is what makes slow and careful sex so intense. Steve is shaking.

“Get dirty for me, baby. Tony wants to see how dirty you can be,” and Steve comes, just like that, thick white ropes falling onto the crisp linens below. He’s swearing and begging and Barnes straightens, just staring and watching with a hand steadying the small of Steve’s back. He’s got an expression on his face like Tony isn’t the only one seeing Steve exactly like this for the first time.

And Tony’s finally letting go, the tight clench in his gut making it too hard to wait any longer. His vision swims, and for a minute he thinks he can’t see, but then he’s watching Steve look like a puddle of exhausted limbs on the bed while Barnes is fucking him within an inch of his existence, using Steve’s body and becoming this growly, animal thing.

Tony can tell when Barnes comes by the expression on Steve’s face, this self-satisfied smile that tugs on his swollen lips. Barnes collapses on top of him, kissing his back franticly and licking the sweat from it. He’s manic, grabbing Steve’s hair a little roughly and twisting his head to meet his lips, both of them a complete hot mess.

Never in his life has Tony seen anything more mercilessly beautiful.

The video cuts once more. Tony’s hand and pants are covered in his own come, and he’s finally starting to get his breathing under control. This time, the camera is on the night stand. He’s looking at the two figures lying twisted together on the bed in the nearly dark room, and he can make out the slow rise and fall of their chests and the sound of soft, moist kisses. This part, he feels like maybe he should look away. Like maybe it’s not meant for him to see.

Steve’s voice is the one that speaks first.

“Are you really going to send it to Tony?”

“I thought you wanted to?”

“I do! I do, I just—I want to know that you’re okay with him seeing me—us. Together like that.”

“He’s Stark, Stevie. Tony.”

“I know. “

There’s a long moment then, and it’s just silence. It’s just two men holding each other and talking without tongues, and it makes Tony feel like he’s never known fear or indifference in his life.

“Sometimes I like to share you with the people we love, Steve—“

—and Tony is closing out the video message before he has the chance to think twice.

*

** 

***

**

*

(i told you the ending did not translate well from the original)

See [Part 2] of this terrible, terrible art project

my actual steve/bucky work: [x]

[dearest-bucky]

That don’t impress me much (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sometimes fancy dates with fancy people and fancy flowers are not enough to make someone fall in love.

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: none for this one really, just cuteness hihi

A/N: This is loosely inspired by the song with the same title by Shania Twain. I really hope you like it. 

A/n 2: One or two days before my old blog got deleted I got an anonymous request that was in the kind of in the same lines of this story but I will still write it because I will mix it with something else to create a different story. Okay so this was just a reminder for the anon (who probably doesn’t even follow me here lol) that I haven’t forgotten their request and I will have it posted right after I’m finished reposting all my old stories. 

Originally posted: February 27, 2020

“Okay Dad America, he’s here so I got to head out.” She pecked Steve’s cheek lightly, leaving a pinkish mark of lipstick in his skin and headed out of the compound.

“Don’t wait up for me.” She jokingly called behind her shoulder and then she was out of the door.

Steve and Natasha chuckled in unison at her antics, meanwhile Bucky who was pretending to be invested in his book, huffed in annoyance.

She looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a navy blue long sleeved dress and black sandals. Her make up was as always on fleek and she was ready to make any man in New York fall in love with her.

It was yet another date for her, they were becoming a recurring thing lately and Bucky absolutely hated seeing her dressed up to the nines and  leaving with another man that wasn’t him. Despite his annoyance, he was trying to keep the focus on his book, but miserably failing anyway.

“You know you could always ask her out and then you won’t have to see her run off to another man’s arms.” Natasha stated matter of fact.

Bucky just rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“She’s right Buck.” It was Steve’s turn to speak.

This time the brunet closed his book in annoyance and got up from his spot on the couch.

“Like you two know anything…” His words were out in a mumbling voice all the while he was walking out of the common room, more than relieved to be out of the overwhelming presence of the Black Widow and his punk best friend.

Of course he hated seeing y/n go out on these dates, and he absolutely hated all the guys she dated. They were all too sophisticated and rich and they smelled like money from far away. The good thing was that y/n never liked any of them that much as to offer them a second date, but for how long? Bucky was sure someone would soon come along and steal her heart if he didn’t do something about it, but how could he tell her he had feelings for her? How could he compare to any of those other guys?

Sure, being an Avenger and living in the compound meant Tony was always stuffing their bank accounts, but Bucky felt like he couldn’t even get to the level of those guys, not only financially, but also emotionally. He could never offer y/n what they could. He could never make her happy like one of them could. And that’s why he kept his mouth shut.

*

Another failed date. Y/n realized it as soon as she entered her date’s car. He handed her a big bouquet of red roses, that was way too exaggerated for her liking and kissed her cheek lightly.

She smiled but she couldn’t help feeling she was just wasting her time.

Men always went out of their way with surprises and gifts, like pearly jewelry or in this case overly expensive bouquets of roses, thinking she would appreciate the materials and fall for them or something. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t get a normal date. Possibly one with a certain handsome broody super soldier.

She kept going on these dates with these men trying to make Bucky jealous, desperately hoping he would say something, but she never got a reaction from him. Maybe he just didn’t like her that way.

Maybe all of her attempts to get his attention hadn’t worked.

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat by the unpleasant thoughts and smiled sweetly at her date. She had to at least look like she was having a good time.

The ride to the restaurant was short and she was thankful for that. But when they set foot inside the place, y/n immediately felt suffocated by the stuffy atmosphere. That place screamed expensive, with the crystal chandeliers and porcelain plates.

While she enjoyed the nice food and everything, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to the possibility of Bucky being with her there. Maybe they wouldn’t be there at all anyway. She knew how much Bucky hated the crowded places and she knew she would enjoy being with him anywhere, it didn’t matter how classy or expensive the place was.

“So I’m hoping next time we could escape for a whole weekend in my cabin in Vermont.” Mark was already making plans for a second date and y/n couldn’t wait for this first one to be over. He was so sure in himself it made y/n laugh at his face.

“I’ll let you know if I’m free.” She replied politely, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude with him.

They skipped desserts after y/n pretended she wasn’t feeling all that well and he drove her back to the compound again. When he stopped the car outside the building, he got close to y/n, trying to get a kiss from her, but at the last moment she shifted her face and his lips met her cheek.

Mark sighed quietly but smiled nonetheless.

“Thanks for tonight, I had a good time.” Y/n spoke almost too quickly, wanting this to be over already. “Good night.” With a small smile she opened the door of the car and got off.

“Don’t forget the flowers.” Mark called after her animatedly.

She turned around and picked the heavy bouquet. “Sure, we don’t want to forget the flowers.” The words were hushed out under her breath and she bid him good night for the second time before going inside.

It was only a couple minutes past ten, so she was surprised to see that nobody was in the common areas. She entered the dark kitchen with a sigh and put the bouquet on the counter, then headed to the fridge to get a frozen yogurt.

Only when the light of the refrigerator illuminated the place, did she notice a silhouette sitting unmoving in one of the armchairs, head hanging low.

Y/n gasped loudly, despite being an Avenger she was scared easily and immediately turned the light on, seeing Bucky sleeping uncomfortably in the chair.

He woke up by the noise she made and locked eyes with her.

“Hey, you’re home early.” He said after checking the time on his phone.

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling too great.”

Bucky’s eyes averted from her face to the giant bouquet of red roses and he shook his head slightly. “That’s a really big bouquet.”

Y/n chuckled, not totally calm yet.

“Yeah, I thought that too.”

They stared at each other’s eyes for a little too long for y/n’s liking. Bucky made her feel nervous and every time he looked into her eyes it seemed as if he was able to read her every secret thought.

She cleared her throat in an attempt to compose herself, before talking to him again.

“So where is everyone else?”

“Steve and Sam got called on a mission. Tony is in his lab with Bruce and Vision. And the girls went out for drinks I think.”

Y/n felt a little bad for Bucky being left alone. No matter how much time passed he still wouldn’t be 100% comfortable around Tony and vice versa, so with every person left in the compound being with him, Bucky felt like he should just step away.

“We can watch a movie together if you want?” She offered without really thinking.

Bucky’s eyes widened at her words, and she took that for having stepped a boundary or something, so she quickly added “If you don’t want to go back to sleep that is, or if you just don’t want then that’s okay too. I just meant that it’s just us…”

She started rambling and she wouldn’t be stopping any time soon if it wasn’t for Bucky interrupting her.

“I would love to watch a movie with you, y/n.”

She blushed at his words and then nodded her head.

“Okay, great! Just give me ten minutes to get out of this dress and into some comfy pjs and I’ll be right back. You can pick a movie if you like.”

With that she got in the elevator, heading to her bedroom.

Bucky didn’t know what movie to choose, so he figured he would just wait for her to pick one. It was a little less than 10 minutes later when she re-entered in the kitchen, this time without any trace of make up in her face, her previously beachy curls gathered in a messy bun and wearing a cute pajama with little elephants imprinted on it.

Bucky thought she never looked more adorable.

“So, you picked a movie yet?”

“No, I figured you could do that.”

She scrolled down on Netflix to find some good movie, before deciding to watch Clueless. It was a light choice, funny, cute and she always thought that Josh was too cute and he and Cher were so good together.

They sat on the love seat, a blanket thrown casually on their laps and started the movie. It was a good one, a chick flick but Bucky liked it nonetheless.

He was focused on the storyline when around the middle of the movie he felt y/n’s weight on his left shoulder. He tensed a little, but relaxed again just as soon after, because it was y/n, and he loved having her near him. Besides she was never scared or repulsed by his metal arm.

Not long after her, he felt his eyes closing too and they were both fast asleep next to each other.

*

In the morning y/n was the first to wake up, feeling her cheeks flushing with embarrassment when she realized she had fallen asleep on Bucky.

Being tucked close to his chest, his head was resting on top of hers, and she could her his deep breaths. He was still soundly sleeping. Y/n didn’t know what to do, if she moved she would wake him up, but if she didn’t the other members of the team would see them cuddling on the couch and she didn’t want to hear their teasing.

She tried to carefully free herself from Bucky’s arms but his grip tightened unconsciously and she huffed out a short breath.

Bucky started stirring in his sleep and she could sense him waking up.

“Good morning.” He rasped out and oh god, his sleepy voice was the sexiest sound she had ever heard. She slapped herself mentally and tried to keep her thoughts in check.

“Morning Buck. I’m sorry I fell asleep on you last night.”

“I don’t mind.” He replied, now being fully awake.

She smiled sweetly at him and didn’t know what to say. In that moment her phone chimed and she picked it up to read the new incoming message.

Mark: Good morning. :) Would you like going on a breakfast date with me?

She sighed upon reading the message. Bucky who couldn’t stop his eyes from  stealing a quick glance at her phone screen stiffened visibly and started retreating his body from hers.

“I suppose you have somewhere to go..” his voice faltered at the end of the sentence.

Y/n put her phone down and turned to look at Bucky. “Not unless you want me to stay here.”

“Doll I-”

“Should I stay?” Her interruption surprised him. She looked like she was almost pleading him to ask her to stay.

“Do you want to stay?” He asked unsure, not knowing how to answer to her question, actually fearing he would answer the wrong thing.

“Very much.” She didn’t even hesitate to give him that answer. “I am tired of going out on dates with guys that aren’t you.”

Before she could loose that boost of confidence she had no idea where came from, she continued speaking, her voice carrying all the feelings she was trying to communicate to him.

“I am tired of carrying these heavy exaggerated bouquets every other night and I am tired of having to be polite to my dates and refusing their expensive gifts and their second dates requests.”

Bucky eyes widened with every word leaving her mouth, but he didn’t dare interrupt her.

“I don’t want to put myself through the same useless process of dating people I know I won’t give a chance because I have my eyes on someone else. And I don’t want to wait anymore to tell you this, I really like you Bucky. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same because-”

He didn’t let her speak anymore, pressing his lips softly to hers. Her breath hitched when he kissed her, but she wasn’t planning on turning him down. With newfound eager she reciprocated his kiss and he was all too happy to keep tasting her.

Too soon for her liking anyway, he broke it off and rested her forehead against hers.

“I really like you too sweetheart.” He whispered near her lips and she couldn’t hide the smile that spread on her face.

“But I can’t compare to those other guys. I can’t offer you expensive jewelry or fancy crowded restaurants dates and I-”

She pecked his lips for a second, just to get him to stop, before she distanced herself from him, but never going too far.

Her hands went to cup his cheeks while she locked her eyes with his.

“None of that impresses me. You know I don’t care about any of it. I had the best date with you last night, just watching a movie and sleeping next to you.” Her voice was sweet and honest and Bucky didn’t have any other choice but to believe her.

He covered her hands that were still resting on his face with his and smiled  lovingly at her.

“You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to know, you know that?”

[winterxisxcomingx]

Drama time! (just making sure that people will be able to see my point of view of this drama)

Well, it’s not my fault. I didn’t want to add drama on my blog and honestly, I didn’t want to make another post for it but that lovely person @disneyfemslash & her main account @cancersyndrom had made me do it by deleting my responses under their post and then blocking me.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, here is a link to the post on her blog and here is a link to my reblog where I already changed text (bc their post made me realize that it can make some people feel uncomfortable and I write there word “edited” to let people know that I’m not just hiding my mistakes or I’m afraid of consequences. It’s just that I realized my mistake and I wanted to fix it.)

That’s what I wrote and that is what she wrote in reblog. Lovely. But, u know, I get that. Even tho she used “fuck” in an aggressive tone, even tho she wrote “what is your damage”, even tho she implied that I'm a pedo or perv or as if  I wrote it about real 16 yo, I wasn’t mad. I commented on her post. I wanted to clear things and let her know that she’s wrong. That I didn’t mean anything sexual. I let her knew my point of view.

I think it could be kinda mean of me, but that’s the truth? I saw that scene (3:09 - 3:15) in Brave. Looking in google I found this “Traditionally, men would not wear any underwear while wearing a kilt - and many still don't.“ From this site. So, I’ve may not think too much about it (because it was only a joke, no second thoughts, just a silly joke that I made because I remember that scene from Merida) and just straight thought that girls, women also do not wear underwear. That literally was my way of thinking and how and why I wrote what I wrote. I didn’t think about anything sexual, just a silly joke based on Scottish people. I already checked, I was wrong, most women (when they actually have to wear a kilt) have to wear panties. My bad. But like I said, I really didn’t mean anything erotic or sexual or.. or I don’t know what exactly that person was thinking that I wrote there.

And here is her answer and then mine:

Like I said in the comments, I still don’t understand what she meant by her first comment. I ignored it even because I thought it’s another person who is just going to be rude to me. But then she send another one and I realized that it’s her main account. Anyway, I think we all can agree that in her first comment, her intention was to be rude to me and again imply that I am some perv or something (again talking about panties and that she doesn’t want to know what I'm thinking <??? I guess? She never explained what she meant>, probably telling me to stop talking <???> and at the end, she called me a “freak, babe”). It looks as she didn’t even read what I wrote or just didn’t care. Because she thinks that I’m a perv, so if she thinks that, then it’s true and the other person can talk, explain, but she is the one who’s right. But’s it’s only a guess~.

And then, there is that lovely comment “once you annoy me there is no second chance”. Like, okay, sure? I don’t mind! Because I didn’t write my comments to beg for her forgiveness. I don’t need her approval. I just wanted to clear things. I just wanted to let know people, who will look at the post that @disneyfemslash wrongly interpreted my dialogue. It’s really all I wanted. But, I guess, she wanted people to think that she’s the hero in this story. Or something. I really don’t get it. 

And then I just asked her to delete that post (I mean reblog from me). I wanted this because I already said that whatever she thought I thought where writing this comment wasn’t right. She was wrong and I explain my way of thought. I just didn’t want people to think wrong of me, just because she assumed things. But she didn’t want to. 

But what’s wrong with talking in comments? Looking at our conversation it would be already the 6th reblog. And there is more. So what’s the point? Because tumblr will see her posts better if there will be more reblogs? That’s why? 

Here’s my response and yes, unfortunately. I kinda lost my patience here, ahaha. But, could you blame me? She is calling me names and implying things all the time and now, while I nicely asked her to delete the post, she rudely answered me, called me a coward, and imply that (I guess) I’m a perv because I don’t want to keep reblogging that post? That I want to hide what I wrote? Isn’t that ridiculous?

Anyway, here’s my response:

After that, she starts deleting my comments, because my next screenshots are just her comments with no trace of my comments. But that’s later. And here is her last comment and my reply (she didn’t see that I think because she already blocked me but I send this anyway). After that, I refreshed Tumblr and I realized that I was already blocked.

In the end, she really did not “give me a second chance” and keep thinking about me as some perv who likes panties of 16yo??? Oh well. I guess that she is just that kind of person who has to has the last word in the conversation. Anyway, here, how it looks now:

*Sigh* 

She probably won’t even see that, but if she did well... I don’t think that she would acknowledge her mistake or that people can be wrong or that she can be wrong sometimes. Just like that.

I saw that one post on her blog. She called all people who call The Beast by the name of Adam “the worst”. Someone reblogged, gave sources, screenshots just to let her know that Disney acknowledged fans' decision that The Beast’s name is Adam. And @disneyfemslash didn't acknowledge and just disrespected that person’s work. Lovely.

Even another person reminded her that her behavior was wrong. But she just blamed the other person again, not seeing her fault at all.

And that’s why, I don’t think that she will change her mind about me or just acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, rather than calling me names and implying things, she could just calmly talk with me in DM.

Here is just another example that cancersyndrome (disneyfemslash) just can’t accept that people can have other opinions. Other than her. And in the discussion, she just kept saying the same thing. And when she sees that she won’t win, she just starts (or even at the beginning of the discussion) calling other person names and assuming things and just being simply rude and toxic. 

But anyway, that’s all. I mean, I could also say something about @disneyfemslash shipping merelsa, a 21 (or 24 in the second movie) years old woman and 16 years old girl. Or I could remind her that she reblogged some posts that aren’t so pure. Like that one fanart with Jasmine (16) and Belle (19) in a sexual pose or edit with Jasmine (16) seducing Ariel (16).

But how would I do that? @disneyfemslash is a perfect, pure, innocent person, after all, who is always right and doesn’t give second chances! 

I hope things are clear now! 

[curlystom]

written — peter parker

a/n: phew! so this is a repost from my old blog which i regretfully deleted (a story that i will go into another time) but i’m back! since all of my college courses are online now, i have been writing like crazy! expect to see some familiar and new stories soon. i have a lot planned. it’s good to be back (:

You admired the faint stars scattered across the night, winter sky as the bus slowed to a stop. The fluffy snow covered everything in its track, making it impossible for you to appreciate the true New York beauty. Your grip on your shoulder strap loosened, grateful that you didn’t have to carry the thousand pound backpack any longer.  The tension in your shoulder throbbed as your carried textbooks begged to be put down, massaging the area once you plopped down in an empty row.

The cold air from outside contradicted with the warmth inside the vehicle, making the windows fog. You scooted yourself towards the edge of the bus and tugged on your hoodie sleeve so you could wiped the glass, leaving thin lines of water droplets behind. 

The blinking street lamps you passed by barely illuminated the area around it. The light reflected off the pure, white snow so effortlessly, making the dark night seem a bit brighter. It was a sight you would have loved to appreciate, but the radiance was blurred by the fog and your eyes squinted at the difference in brightness. 

You twiddled with your fingers, memories of the last few hours replaying like your favorite movie. A smile tugged your lips the more you thought about it. 

Open textbooks were sprawled out all across the library table, your laptop resting among them along with a few bags of chips and power drinks. Your cheek rested against your palm, strands of your y/h/c hair falling in front of your face. Attempting to blow them out of your face, you glared when the seemingly easy task was failing. 

Your arm fell against the table as you rested your head against your upper arm, wanting to let your eyes flutter close so badly. Studying for over 6 hours had taken its toll on you and it was very evident. The darkening under eyes and pale complexion gave you away.

A cup of coffee was exaggeratedly placed in front of you, forcing your eyes to open. Peter’s hands were on either side of him, resting against the table as he tilted his head to the side to look at you, a small smiling forming at the sight.

“You look like complete shit.” His lips were forced into a hard line, trying to muffle his laughter from other surrounding students.

You groaned, a fake cry leaving as you sank into the uncomfortable chair, the cushion no longer giving you the support you desperately needed. 

Your hands covered your tired face, “God, I know. You don’t need to remind me. I’ve been here for over 6 hours.”

“Which is why..,” he scooted the coffee closer to you, “I got you that.”

He pulled the remaining chair from under the table, forcing you to place your feet back on the ground and unmask your face from him. Hesitating for a bit, you couldn’t resist his offer and slowly started to grab the drink, keeping your eyes on him. His eyebrows raised at your reaction as he slowly took a seat, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers.

Your eyes examined the outside, squinting to make sure there was nothing off about this specific drink. His eyes were locked on you, an eyebrow raised as to why you were acting so strange. Perhaps the coffee would wake you up a bit. Your lips met the plastic cover, a slight burning sensation coming over your tongue as you took a small sip. You were truly too tired to panic.

The bitter taste lingered in your mouth, slowly approving the drink by smacking your lips together and giving a slow nod. He sighed in relief as you went to take another sip, thankful that he had made the right call on what coffee to get you. He turned around the books to see what you had been buried in the past few hours, asking questions about what your upcoming exam was about.

You weren’t listening.

Your eyes examined every part of his face as your lips softly brushed against the coffee lid, taking in every detail one by one.

His freckles replicated the bright stars above you, scattered in the most beautiful way possible. The red tint in his cheeks slowly began to fade into his pale skin, growing more comfortable with the temperature change. A few loose curls fell in front of his face seamlessly, your urge to run your fingers through his locks becoming stronger. His brown orbs exhibited small gold flecks as they scanned the pages, your lips parting at just how mesmerizing they were to look at.

He was breathtaking.

“Y/N?”

Your eyelids flickered as you shook your head, the coffee taking its time to fully sink in your system. Forcing your eyelids to stay open, you took a deep breath in as you fully gave your attention to the boy in front of you. “Hm?”

“Are you okay?” His eyebrows pinched together in concern, “You zoned out.”

“Jus’ exhausted.” You lied, taking another sip of your coffee. He gave you a small, sympathetic smile before forcing his lips into a tight line. 

His eyes scanned the many books in front of you, developing a headache just by looking at them. He gripped the wooden arm rests and pushed himself up, closing each book and began to pack them in your bag.

You stood up as well, placing your cup of coffee on the table with your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “W-what are you doing?” You grabbed the books from his grasp, immediately deeping a deep breath when you felt how warm his touch was. A flustered laugh begged to escape but you bit the inside of your mouth from letting that happen.

“I am helping you pack up.” He gently closed your laptop and slipped it in its case, placing it in your backpack and zipping it up nicely. “You need to get some sleep.”

You opened your mouth to protest his actions and to try and convince him that you were fine, but it was no use. Waving his index finger at you, he held the strap of your backpack and encouraged you to take it and go home. A groan left your lips as you rolled your eyes, exaggeratedly grabbing the strap from him and throwing it over your shoulder. Your hand gripped around the coffee while the other waved at Peter, his face displaying a look of “you know i’m right”. 

He was always right. It was a love/hate relationship with you. The boy never seemed to answer any question wrong, and his morals and values were ones you’d dream of in a partner. There was truly nothing wrong about the boy, and it was no shocker that you’d fallen head over heels for him.

You had been lucky enough to become his friend over the last 4 years. Having the same communications class definitely sparked a flame between the two of you, instantly becoming partners for every project and studying together. The chemistry you had with each other was undeniable, and it made it even harder not to fall in love with him.

He was everything you aspired to be. His aunt, who is the sweetest lady you’d ever met, received so much affection and love from her nephew, you couldn’t help but smile everytime you saw them together. He tutored other fellow students and volunteered with charities in his free time, truly surprised that he had any. 

Peter was a busy guy, and the fact he still made sure to check up on you was the cherry on top.

Heat rushed to the apples of your cheeks at the thought of him, your hands covering them as much as you could so no one could see how flustered you had gotten. You bit your lip to prevent an excited squeal from slipping through, your eyes shutting close before slowly opening, staring out the glass.

The previously wiped area on the window had developed a new layer of fog, covering the entire area again. Water droplets stood still despite the the movement of the bus, your eyes admiring each and every one of them. Downtown New York was barely visible through the fogged glass, but the sight, nevertheless, was still breathtaking.

Colorful lights illuminated the night sky, the light peeking through the fog and displaying on your lap. Your hand peeked through the sleeve of your hoodie as you held out your index finger, meeting it with the freezing glass and traced Peter’s name with a little heart next to it.

A few droplets formed on your side of the glass, sliding down the newly written name. The wet residue resided on your finger before you wiped it off on your jeans, smiling at the letters on the window. The bus had slowed to a stop, and the surroundings indicated that this was your stop. You took one last look  at the window before grabbing the strap of your backpack, thanking the bus driver, and stepping off the bus.

Peter sat a few rows behind you, his eyes following you as you departed. A small smile tugged at his lips at how carelessly beautiful you were. A few pieces from you bun were curled, framing your face perfectly. A rosy tint colored your cheeks, either from the frosty weather or being flustered. The way your corners of your eye crinkled when you smiled made his heart pound against his chest, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. You were unlike anyone he had ever seen.

His eyes trailed back to where you were previously sitting and landed on the fogged glass. The letters you had written were slowly disappearing but it was legible enough for him to read. He had watched you trace your finger along the frosted glass, seeing the slight flinch you made when you realized how cold it was, but you had placed it just right where anyone behind couldn’t see it. 

The butterflies in his stomach intensified by 100, and his heart seemed to have beat faster when he comprehended what you had wrote. You, a beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate girl, felt nearly the same way he did about you. Time played a big role in this particular moment. He had met you years ago, unsure of his feelings for you and never really tested the waters. He remained close friends with you, bringing you coffee during your late study sessions and advising you to do what was best. 

He was scared to break that wall, not wanting to change a relationship he was very appreciative of. The last thing he wanted to do was lose you, but now he was going to fight for you until his last dying breath. 

[whump-it]

Callum and Rory’s Floor Picnic

No TWs here.  I don’t even know what this is.  It didn’t turn out like I wanted.  I kept trying.  I kept trying and thought about not posting it but I’ve decided that it needs to be out here and away from me for now.  Because otherwise I’m going to keep picking at it and delete it entirely.  Sorry for the rubbish-ness.

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper @iaminamoodymoodtoday @kawaiiloverofanimu @burtlederp @untilthepainstarts @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @saphemme @slaintetowhump @whump-tr0pes

“Is that my blanket?” Rory asked, looking confused. “I didn’t know I had a picnic blanket.”

“Well that’s because you don’t” Callum said, as he pushed the coffee table back and started to spread the blanket out on the floor.

“Did you buy it?” Rory said, attempting to nudge the creases out of one corner with one foot and making it worse as he went.

“Nope” Callum said, sitting back on his heels. “I borrowed it.”

“I should’ve known,” Rory said with a small laugh. “It’s not blue and you’d have definitely picked blue. Whose is it?”

“Alyaa’s,”

“Oh ok,” Rory frowned slightly. He liked his neighbour well enough. She’d been kind enough not to leave him stood on his own when they’d been at a party together but he just couldn’t shake his discomfort that something was not quite right. Not since he’d seen her just ducking back into her apartment when he’d brought Callum home. He knew she had been watching him. Watching them. And he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that she still was. It didn’t help that he knew he’d turned up drunk at her door once, after Callum had been selected and taken away, but there was very little else that he could recall about that incident. And she didn’t seem inclined to want to talk to him about it. In fact she didn’t seem inclined to even look him in the eye.

But Callum adored spending time with her and Rory was beyond grateful to her for the letting him. Callum had come on in great strides since he’d started visiting her, huge leaps forward in his communication. And he certainly couldn’t wait to try the chocolate cake that Callum had brought home with him a few days earlier and refused to let him eat until picnic day.

“I got us something to drink,” Callum said, interrupting his thoughts and his blanket nudging.

“Sounds promising,” Rory said. Callum pressed his hands to his knees and pushed himself up off the floor, surveying his with the blanket with a smile and a satisfied nod, before a blush crept up from his chest, settling high on his cheek bones.

“I love blankets,” he said quietly. Rory watched him flush and fidget where he was stood in the middle of the blanket and smiled at him.

“Yeah, I know you do bud,” he said quietly, watching the red across Callum’s cheekbones darken. “If you ever want more you know that you only have to ask right? You can always ask me anything.”

Callum nodded, a small and slightly aborted movement.

“I know, it’s just… it’s not something that comes naturally to me.” He looked up and met Rory’s eye. Looked nervous and hot and unsure. The crimson creep of nervousness across his skin highlighted the trace of scars that ringed around his neck in little dots and lines. Marks that he hadn’t yet told Rory about. So many marks that Rory didn’t know the history of.

“Questions should come naturally though,” Rory said, holding out a hand for Callum to hold while he stepped forward in a lunge to get off the blanket, not wanting to ruin the perfection that he had given it. “That’s an ok thing for you to do.” Rory twisted their fingers together and squeezed Callum’s hand in his own.

“I know,” Callum muttered, looking at the carpet, looking at their hands. Nothing was safer than being with Rory. Aside from when he’d still had his mum on his side, Rory was the safest thing in the whole world.

“Where’s your teddy?” Rory asked, casting a quick glance around the room and not seeing Callum’s teddy anywhere.

“Umm… he’s in… he’s on my bed,” Callum said, quietly, nervously. “I thought I’d see how it felt if he was in a different room to me?”

“Ok?” Rory’s reply came out phrased as a question. He frowned just slightly. “And how’s that working out for you?”

“Umm…I…” Callum gave a squeeze of his fingers around Rory’s. “… yeah it’s not going so great. I miss him. Sorry.” Callum whispered, his voice trailing off as he gave one more squeeze with his hand before taking a deep breath in and out. He had a blanket. He had cake. He’d bought them a drink. He didn’t want to let his old panic wash in over him and steal his confidence and his breath and his words away.

“No,” Rory said firmly. “No sorrys, not on floor picnic day. You go grab him and I’ll get whatever it is you’ve bought for us to drink.” He let go of Callum’s hand and started to walk towards the kitchen when he realised that Callum hadn’t moved yet. Turning on the spot he went straight back to him and pressed one hand to either side of Callum’s face.

“It’s a no-tree picnic and Haz is invited,” Rory murmured quietly. “And for the record, you’re doing great.” Callum nodded slightly, eyes fluttering closed while he let himself feel the press of Rory’s hands to his face. The calming sense of grounding that they brought with their touch.

“Go on then,” Rory said, letting go and gently guiding Callum with his hands, turning him in the direction of his room. He watched Callum go then moved himself, into the kitchen to get a couple of glasses out of a cupboard then into the fridge to find out what Callum had bought for them to drink. He found two large bottles of real ginger ale and smiled to himself, the evidence of Callum’s friendship with their neighbour showing through with food and drink. He took them out and tucked them to his chest with one arm while he picked up the glasses with his free hand to take them back to the living room where he put them on the coffee table.

“Umm…” Rory turned at the increasingly familiar sound of Callum’s uncertainty. He was stood looking at the bottles and glasses on the table, his mud and blood crusted teddy clutched tightly in his hands. Twisted up a little in his grip.

“You ok?” Rory asked.

“Uh…umm… there’s…” Callum nodded slightly in the direction of the drinks. “… your table is… there’s condensation and I don’t know h… how to get the marks off…off…umm…off the t… table.”

Rory stayed where he was and forced the time to think and not just react upon himself. His instincts screamed at him to just tell Callum, reassure him that it didn’t matter. That his coffee table was disaster zone covered in drink rings and take away stains and a small dip beginning to form in the wood of it where he always rested his feet up on it. He took a few breaths in and out and considered just how much he didn’t know yet. Too much. There was too much that he didn’t know.

“Well,” Rory said, stringing the word out, buying himself time. “How are you with putting pizza in the oven?“

"I can do that,” Callum said, speaking down at the teddy twisted up between his hands. “I can do that for you.”

“For me?” Callum looked up. Shy, but smiling. A small uptick of the corners of his mouth.

“For us,” Callum said. “Umm… can I ask?” At that, Rory moved. Towards Callum.

“Always,” he said.

“We’ve got pizza and ginger ale and cake but…umm… is that all?” Rory couldn’t keep the laugh back at that.

“No picnic would be complete with just that,” he said. “I’ve got crisps and cheese twists in the cupboard by the sink. And I’ve stashed some dips at the back of the fridge to go with some veg sticks. You see!? I can be food-organised when it matters.”

Callum fidgeted about where he stood.

“It matters?” he whispered.

“It matters,” Rory said, touching at Callum’s fingers with his, avoiding the teddy while he did so. “So you go do the pizza, give it ten minutes, and I’ll get everything else out.” Below his fingers, Callum’s tight and twisting grip on his teddy slackened off a little and if he thought he could get away with it then Rory would have cried at just how much comfort Callum had been denied. At just what he’d had to do to get even one kind touch or word. He let Callum back away and followed him to the kitchen, bustling around getting things out of the fridge while Callum put the pizza in to cook and set the timer. They occupied themselves in comfortable silence while the timer ran down, both content to work side by side until a rhythmic beeping announced that their food was ready.

“I can’t remember the last time that I ate pizza,” Callum said quietly, putting on oven mitts and taking the food out of the oven then sliding the pizza on to a plate.  He turned to find Rory stood holding a knife out to him, ready for him to cut the pizza with. He couldn’t help but stiffen a little at the sight of it, his breathing rate hitching up, pulse quickening. 

“Oh!”  Rory’s gaze bounced from the knife that he was pointing at Callum up to Callums panic striken face, then back down to the knife again.  “Aw shit!  Umm…shit!  I didn’t think.”  He shoved the knife down on the counter top with a bang.  “Oh sweetheart no, I’m so sorry I just…I didn’t think at all.  I just didn’t think.”  He pushed himself into Callum’s space, pulled his shivering body flush to his own, used one hand to bring Callum’s head down to his shoulder where he could rest it there.  He could feel Calum’s lips moving on his neck, could feel the small tingles of breath that were irregualr enough to tell him that Callum was whispering something. 

“I can’t hear you bud,” Rory said, stroking up and down slowly over the line of Callum’s spine.  When Callum answered it was muffled by his continued press into Rory, but loud enough that he could make it out.

“Just that you shouldn’t have to say sorry.  It’s normal to be able to pass someone a knife without…”  Callum sighed, a shaky breath in and a slightly less shaky one back out.

“Without worrying?” Rory tried finishing the sentence for him.  Callum nodded into his neck and then backed up, eased himself away from Rory slowly. 

“No sorrys on floor picnic day right?” Callum said with a small and uncertain smile.

“No sorrys,” Rory agreed.  “Should I…?”  He gestured to the knife.

“Umm…yeah.  If you don’t mind I’ll just take the rest of the food through and get it all laid out?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Rory said, still not picking up the knife, waiting instead for Callum to leave the room.  He watched as Callum gathered everything up, arms always close in to himself, hands together and managing to balance everything perfectly.  As soon as he was out of eyesight, Rory picked up the knife and got to work, slicing up the pizza and wondering just how much time Callum had spent on the wrong end of a knife to make him react that way.  To being so terrified of the blade.  He cut quickly and quietly, straining to hear what Callum was doing.  Listening for any sounds of sniffing or crying.  But all he could hear was shuffling and the ocassional comment directed at Haz about things being in the right place.  Satisfied that Callum was coping, Rory picked up the platter with the pizza on and took it through, handing it to Callum so that he could put it where he wanted it to go.

“Looking good,” Rory said, as he waved a hand across the scene in front of him.  Callum put the pizza platter down and glanced up, with a shy sort of smile from under his blonde curls.  Rory didn’t think that he’d ever seen anything nicer than that in his whole life.  Rory knelt next to him, then tucked his legs to one side and started helping himself to the food.  When he noticed Callum wasn’t eating yet, he paused and reached out to run his fingers through Callum’s hair.  “You should eat too.”  He went back to picking up various bits of food, while he watched out of the corner of his eye to check that Callum was following suit.  When he saw that he was he relaxed a bit more.  He reached out between mouthfuls and picked up the glass of ginger ale that was closest to him and took a swig of it.

“Ok!” Rory said.  “So Alyaa recommended this to you yeah?”

“Yeah,” Callum said.  “She says it’s the best one.”

“She sure likes her ginger ale on the spicy side!”

“Oh…umm…is it…is it…not good?”  Callum asked quietly.

“No I like it!”  Rory frowned and put the glass back, wiped his fingers on his jeans and reached to take hold of Callum’s hands.  “Cal, it was just a casual observation.  That’s all.  Nothing else.  I promise you.  But do you think you could try something for me?”

Callum looked up at Rory, his eyes danced about and didn’t want to focus on any one thing.  Rory let go of one hand and pressed his palm to his face, brought Callum’s attention back.

“If you think you can manage it, then please try not to worry about the little things that I say.  Most of the time I talk rubbish anyway, you know that,”  Rory spoke quietly.  “You don’t have to second guess everything that I say.  I promise you that there is no hidden agenda here.  No games.  No tricks.  Ok?”

“Umm…”  Callum hesitated over his reply and twisted Haz by the paw this way and that.  “It’s…the thing is that it was always…with Master Hayden…it was always a guessing game.  I never knew if he meant what he said.  I was very confused a lot of the time.”  He reached up, still holding on to Haz and rubbed and poked at his right temple.  At the area that had taken so much damage over the years.  At the part that the doctors wanted to keep such a close eye on.

“I won’t make you guess,” Rory said, moving back away from Callum to lean up against the couch but pulling Callum with him.  He spread his legs to make a space for him to fit into and wrapped his arms around him.  Callum tensed for the briefest of moments before settling back against Rorys front, letting the solid and reassuring warmth of him settle him.  He could feel Rory rubbing his head back and for against his hair, in a move that always calmed them both.  It took away the fright of seeing the knife earlier.  It released the pressure of the feeling that he might always have to guess and second guess.  And guess again.  Callum smiled when he felt Rory pressing little kisses into his hair, tickling at his scalp and making him tingle.

“There’s so much that happened and I think…I think…I think I want to start to tell you,” Callum said before he remembered his manners, so deeply ingrained within.  “Please.”

“You can tell me anything you want and any time you want to,” Rory muttered into Callums hair.  He hoped that Callum couldn’t feel the up tick in his heart rate where his chest pressed up to his back.  Because Callum speaking about what had happened to him was so important, but Rory’s gut twisted on the guilt that it was all his fault that any of this had happened in the first place.  The same twisted awful feeling that his gut had thrown his way on the day that Callum had left with Hayden.  Callum wriggled and Rory loosened his grip around him, allowing Callum to turn in the spot that he was sat in.  Allowed him to face Rory with a knee either side of his hips and his face tucked in up against Rory’s neck.  Another comfort move that they had crafted without so much as asking one another. 

“I want to say thank you,” Callum spoke into Rory’s skin, raising goosebumps as he did so.  “I want to…I’m…I’m so happy that you don’t work for the Programme now.  I know that I ruined it for you and I’m so so sorry but…but…”  Rory flung his arms around Callum’s back and held him tightly, cutting Callum off as he spoke with a wheeze from where Rory had grasped on so tightly.

“I couldn’t have stayed there,” Rory said, holding on to Callum as tightly as he could.  “I couldn’t leave you here every day to go there.  I, no, you didn’t ruin anything.  You never ruin anything.  You make everything better.  You make ME better.”  Rory heard the hitched couple of breaths that Callum took.  He raised a hand to slide his fingers through the back of Callum’s hair, stroked and played with it until his breathing eased back down again.

“I might…ummm…I might talk about some scars soon?  If that’s ok?  Please?”  Callum asked, still tucked up under Rory’s ear where he couldn’t be seen. 

“I will listen to everything that you want to say.  I promise.”

“Thank you,” Callum whispered.  Rory stroked his fingers through Callum’s hair over and over, and shook his head.

“You never need to thank me for this.  I want to listen to everything that you’ve got to say.  It’s literally the most important thing in the world to me.  I mean that.  There’s nothing that is more important.”  Callum shifted on his lap and Rory let his arms loosen again to give him room to pull back a little.  He only moved enough to let his cheek brush up against Rory’s, the tips of their noses met gently and their foreheads connected.

“Is it more important than Alyaa’s chocolate cake?” Callum asked with a small smile.  Rory smiled and let out a small laugh.  He knew exactly what Callum was doing.  He deflected when he felt that he’d gone too far.  He had started to do it within a few weeks of coming home, a newly developed nervous habit which often also consisted of jokes at his own expense about his time with Hayden that made Rory wince.  He knew that it was too soon, and he felt sure that Callum knew it too but he was trying so hard, throwing ideas and recovery attempts around like confetti.  Rory didn’t have the heart to stop for as long as it continued to be harmless.

“The cake is a close second,” Rory said, playing along.  He knew that Callum loved it.  He knew that Callum wanted to make him happy.  He also knew that Callum had no idea how happy he made him just by being there and doing nothing at all, no matter how many times he tried to tell him.  He felt Callum’s smile, felt it through the skin of his forehead.  And then he lost it again as Callm pushed himself up and away, going to the kitchen to pick up the cake and to find a knife on his own which Rory knew would be the easiest thing for him to do.  To have the full amount of control over it.  Like an tremor before an earthquake, Callum had eased enough pressure to keep things steady for the time being. 

While he watched him cutting huge slices of cake, while he took the plate that was offered to him, Rory couldn’t help but wonder when the full scale disaster would hit.  And just how much of a relief effort woulf be needed to pull his sweetheart through it.