#misuse of tags lol

[axofixations]

hiiii... do you have any other interests beside TWA :3?

Yes!!! I enjoy games like Wobbledogs, Minecraft, the Half-Life and Portal series, etc. Minecraft and Portal are childhood games for me, and I enjoy playing Minecraft for the building and the grind, but primarily for the social aspect— SMPs are fun! The Portal Franchise is something I play at least annually, I hop on my xbox and play through Portal 1 every autumn, and I mess around in Portal 2 multiplayer frequently (over 300 hours on steam thus far.) Wobbledogs and the Half-Life games are more recent, but I still enjoy them a lot!

I used to be a big fan of BFDI, But when BFB ended, I kinda dropped out of the OSC. I'm not a huge fan of TV shows, but I like Futurama, Numberblocks, TAWOG, and House MD! Although, I grew up on Looney Tunes and Tom & Jerry reruns.

I also enjoy learning about Math, in-general, and Science... but particularly things like Biology, or anything to do with space. I also enjoy watching writing advice videos (as evidenced by TWA, but i also watch Trope Talks by OSP.), and learning about mythology! I'm planning on majoring in Psychology and becoming a Therapist, though I need to work out that plan before I enact it.

Overall I think I have a pretty broad range of interests (not even touching upon art and music right now), but this is a pretty relevant list. Thank you for asking!

[eleu22]

cod hot take of the day:

gaz does bouldering in his free time

ty!

[pommigranite]

heyyyyy yall, long time no tumbl (???)

anywaysss, once i finish up comms, i'm thinking of opening adopts, and i thought since it's been a while i'd re-poll yall's interest,,, so here we go

and just for my dino enjoyers out there (looking at you right in the eyeballs soy) reptiles would fall under this category lol

if you have any questions, please comment or dm <33

[selfcarecap]

Asking for a fic: what are some of the (sexual) things you think Wade would want to do with reader and Logan who are a couple? And give me some pick up lines that exude Wade energy please!! Just any ideas for a fic in which Logan and reader are a couple and Wade having a threesome with them

[hermesmoly]

I really do hope people understand the fine line between fandom etiquette and censorship

[dallonwrites]

actually making my tags from my last post into their own post. writers who struggle with grammar, spelling, typos, errors etc i love you. writers who struggle with rereading their stuff thoroughly no matter how much they try, who don't always have access to other people to help them read i love you. whilst reading through and checking for these things is good practice i really believe that the weight of it should not be put wholly on the writer's shoulders. especially writers who are neurodivergent, disabled, have any condition that can impede their reading + comprehension, are overworked and overtired, are not writing in their native language, list goes on....because grammar mistakes/language mistakes/typos have nothing to do with your abilities as a creative. this is where editors should be uplifting writers, helping them, not scrutinising them for something they cannot always control

[sisterdivinium]

AvMila anon again. I could also totally see Miguel/JC as you say in the right light. Say the fact that JC has studied in the school of hard knocks in life, and Miguel has very little life experience. He left earth as a child. I could see that if JC is given knowledge about this, an author could have JC being goofy and helpful in trying his best to teach some street smarts and general stuff to Miguel. Perhaps not in a romantic capacity, because I personally think no one should be dating Miguel. He's a child in a adult man's body. But yeah a big brother/little brother dynamic would be quite sweet between them, seeing as we're never told if JC has any siblings or any family left. They could be each other's sibling. Which is also to add to another great point you made. Warrior nun is well written, so much so that even with only 2 seasons of 8 episodes each, they hand you enough details about its minor characters that you can play with in a myriad of ways. And the minor characters are almost all quite interesting and have tons of potential!. With good material, even if there's little of it, you can build all kinds of stories. Not necessarily all centered around romantic love and only with the main characters. Romance, personal growth, chosen families, friendships, aro/ace/trans experiences. I also think it's baffling that people don't engage more in taking all these characters and just truly playing with them a lot more.

For JC and Miguel/Michael, I guess so! (I say this and so succinctly because I'm infamous for my very strong "bling ring" dislike, so I really, really wouldn't touch JC or his crew with a ten foot pole, lol.)

The main thing, I think and agree wholeheartedly with you, really is the fact that there are so many little threads one could pull on for just about any of the characters in the show. If you're courageous, you absolutely could pull off some "esoteric" character combinations in whatever capacity you'd like, just as we feel the writers could at any given moment just pick them up again themselves and go on from where they stopped. There's always a little something, a little spark in even the minor WN characters that could push a story forward. We've been watching Ava's story but it could probably be told from just about anyone's perspective -- without the same charm and effect, of course, but what I mean to say is that everyone is built in a way that could make it possible for them to be the main character of their own stories, which is something you don't often see regarding those in the background. There are little idiosyncrasies, little contradictions, little details that add life and interest to them and just about anyone could try and use those to explore another avenue that the show cannot give us, certainly!

[rotteneldritchhorror]

Sorry for discourse but I DID NOT JUST SEE SOMEONE LUMP AROALLO AND ALLOACE PEOPLE IN WITH STRAIGHTBIANS AS “Contradictory labels”

HUH.

Being allosexual and Aromantic isn’t contradictory??? Being alloromantic and asexual isn’t contradictory???

[ruskatuskapuskasapuska]

HAUKI ON ILOINEN

KALA. :-)

I made a video about the northern pike :]c

[synthvalet]

Tags in last reblogs given because I am dead tired of people trying to use literal Somewhat Enhanced Vocaloids TM as some sort of a slam dunk in the ongoing struggle against AI being used to try and replace voice acting, drawing or writing.

(seriously though, while AI generated images can sometimes fool a person - and this is being increasingly used to cheat the algorithmic system to get easy money off "drawings" reproducing some generic prettiness by probabilistic patterns - I am yet to find an AI fic that would pass the judgement. The style is always so stilted and generic, how does anyone even enjoy it? It's like a monotone narration over a passionate scene.)

(can't lie. AI use for correcting the style as an ESL speaker would be nice but also: beta readers with a lived knowledge of what was meant so)

For now probably the biggest fear for a completion of AI forgery is AI generated video stuff coupled WITH AI speech morphing. I don't mean like. AI fill tools in human editing. We already have deepfakes and the sheer potential of abuse in revenge porn or forged evidence.... chills.

[tonythetigersusedjockstrap2]

Saw a new post in a tag that really doesn't get updated very often and it's unrelated spam from a bot. When will we end cruelty

[prettyboykatsuki]

mindfuck. | sunday (hsr)

𖤓 tags ; afab + gn!reader, established relationship, established d/s dynamic (implied to be 24/7), extremely submissive!reader, soft dom!sunday, mindfucking in a sense, extremely horny telepathic communication, sensation play (pain + pleasure), intesne, overstimulation, oral (f!recieving), penetration, misuse of aeonly abilities, very lovey-dovey in an insane way, lowk mutually codependent lol, 18+

𖤓 wc ; 4k. (this is.. wow)

𖤓 a/n ; this was not written with canon in mind. this was written with heart-eyes and wet pussy. if it does not make sense with his canon abilities, it is not my business !

everything in this dynamic is very consensual but sunday pushes reader a lot so it gets intense for them. they have aftercare !! but they are both insane so please be cautious!! i dont think it warrants dark content but it is . wild.

He won't put on airs in front of you.

Maybe it's because your lovers, as he describes it. Not partners because that implies equal control, not something so juvenile as your boyfriend. Lovers. Sunday refers to you unilaterally as his lover. As his.

As his lover, he remains ruthless. He doesn't lie though. He's frank with you to the point you wonder how he lies so easily with everyone else. He shows you the vulnerability of his grip strength, the intensity of his feelings for you. Sunday loves you. He won't put on airs about this.

Sunday loves you, so there's no need to worry about anything. Don't worry about the bed you sleep in, the clothes you wear, the things you eat. Sunday won't put on airs about wanting to let you have freedom. He doesn't even pretend like he'd be happy if something caused you to leave. He wouldn't tell you to find someone else should you grow sick of him.

Be with him. Let him love you. He'll carve something out of his heart and keep you there - conform to his ribs and listen to the sound of its beat. You're his lover. All his. Bone, blood, faith, religions - all his, always.

When Sunday is in a bad mood, you can always tell. Though his face remains indifferent - he's harder on you than he is usually. He's not often in a bad mood and the difference might look minor to anyone else. And identifying the source of his mood is arduous, because often it's him thinking himself into a corner. The worst of it comes when he convinces himself you want to leave him, even when you assure you have no such intentions.

Sunday is twisted. You know that. But you willingly handed him the chain to your leash. It's no doubt you're just as rotten.

His mood, though usually magnanimous - can become cold and ruthless and brutal on days like that.

There are three things that tell you that Sunday is in a bad mood when he visits your room today.

First, that he's meeting you in the real world and not in the dreamscape. Sunday doesn't like reality. If he's meeting you there - it means that he is wanting affirmation you are real despite everything, which is not a sign of him being very level-headed.

The second is that he's being affectionate. He comes to your door and kisses you on the lips before making you greet him. A deep kind of kiss, shared between average people. Lacking control and precision - all want.

The third is that he takes off his clothes when he closes the door behind. He makes you sit on the bed like always, but doesn't join you in his full attire. He doesn't make you get naked and come sit in his lap while he still has his suit on.

You have a routine about this after all. Sunday comes, makes you sit at his feet until he's pleased with your begging - makes you cum to the point of delirium than murmurs softly until you've sobered again. He'll talk to you afterwards. Lays in bed next to you and strokes your hair with absent fondness only after affording you pleasure. Only after paying him your worship.

But he skips the step entirely today and undresses. He's never undressed without you asking him. Always a reward.

You want to ask what exactly has him this desperate, but you're almost afraid to know. It's so unusual it jars you.

He has his back turned away from you on the bed where you sit. You're naked with the exception of a choker. Sunday is undressing in front of you, all without you asking. It feels like something you shouldn't look at, though he hasn't forbidden you from it explicitly.

You peek anyway, pushing away the guilt.

He undresses himself neatly. Slides the silk of his gloves off and lays them flat on the armchair nearby. He shrugs his white coat off, follows it. His fingers are beautiful and soft outside of their confines, and they unbutton his shirt dexterously. Off with his vest and his other attire - once his top half is bare he turns to you.

Despite yourself, you try to level your enthusiasm. You look down at the bed underneath you, only listening for his footsteps. Instead you find the hardness of your heartbeat, rising into your throat.

Your skin feels hot. He hasn't even touched you but you're wet, albeit afraid of what any of it means.

You feel your pulse quicken impossible when his hand brushes along your cheek. His fingers are long and slender, his nails as pristine as the rest of him.

"Look at me."

And so you do, picking your head up to gaze at him. His expression is unreadable, but different. "Is everything okay?"

That seems to shock him. He smiles that time, comfortably. "Everything is fine. Something came up. I thought I'd come see you."

"Oh well, I'm glad you came to see me," You say quickly and he smiles again even softer. "But, well. It's different."

"It is. Is that a problem?"

"No, no - I just. Are you upset?"

"Not with you," He's quick to assure. You love him, you think. It's things like that that make you love him. "Something annoyed me."

"Is that right," You look up at him and look closer. "Can I help you?"

You feel it then. There's a shift in his demeanor. He's pleased with the question, with your attitude. You feel his hand nearly tremble as he strokes you fondly. "You want to make me feel better?"

You feel strange. Skittish. "Y-yes. If that's alright."

"Aren't you very generous?" He replies. It sounds like praise, makes your stomach turn. "There's something I'd like to do with you. Will you allow me?"

You're not sure why he's asking. "You don't need to ask my permission for anything."

He shivers at that. You think he does. It's brief enough that you miss it. His eyes lid, thumb smoothing across your lower lip. "That's right. You're all mine, aren't you?"

You nod. "Uh-huh."

He smiles at you. Laughs, pleasant and warm and rich. It's an unfamiliar sound - almost carefree. It makes you happy to hear but you try not to let it show so he doesn't get conscious of it. Still, you smile. Stare down at the space underneath and glance at his naked torso and flush all over again.

"Then, allow me," He sits next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He grabs your hand tender and guides you into his lap. The amount of contact is so much unprepared, your knees feel weak. He allows you to straddle him, guides your arms around his neck. You can feel his gaze on you and you squirm but don't move.

"You're very nervous." He points out.

"You're," You feel like the Penacony will fall from underneath your feet "...touching me."

"You're so ruined already, over that?"

You nod. Of course you are. It's Sunday's body you're touching. He never allows you this much unless you've done something to please him greatly. Unless his mood is good. You're used to the silky cloth of his gloves even when he fucks you on his fingers, your cunt dripping onto his nice suit even when he's pleasuring you for hours. He reminds you of the miles between you doing that. A show of power.

So of course the sudden change in that distancing is alarming. Arousal keeps spiking every time you remember. It makes you feel stupid. You're touching his warm skin, seeing the sinew of his shoulders and the way he's built. His core soft and stable, everything dusted with rosy hues. He's slender and beautiful and elegant all over so of course you're wet between your legs, achy and unnerved by just how much your pussy seems to pine after his touch.

Your brain feels like it'll pour out of your ears, the words barely forming to speak.

"It's too much."

He doesn't say anything in reply. His fingers snake between your legs where you're stood on your knees - sliding down slick folds, tentative and amused. "You're so much wetter than usual," Then, with a breathlessness to his voice "Is it really making you feel this way to see me half naked?"

You lock eyes with him. You can't make yourself out in the reflection of his eyes but his face changes. It doesn't matter what you can see, because you know you look desperate. You can never hide how you feel from Sunday, but especially not like this. Vulnerable, you nod curtly - mouth fallen open.

"It's okay," He coos, which are not the words he normally chooses. He normally says that you'll be alright - which is different from this. Restlessness makes your skin prick. "Do you want to know why I'm in a bad mood?"

You nod.

"I thought of you running away," He says, which is typical. But it's too much for it to be just that so you wait. "Going back to your home planet to never return. It wasn't pleasant but I couldn't stop imagining it."

"...Was that really all?"

"Really all? Do you think there's something that would displease me more than that?"

"You really want me to stay with you." You say, less than ask.

"I treasure you," He murmurs, his voice is low. Cold, even - underneath layers of possession. "You are mine to treasure."

"Of course but," You want to look away from his eyes but you find that you cannot. "So much? Do you really?"

He smiles again. It doesn't reach his eyes. "More than you'll ever know." He reaches for your hand and holds them, smiles as you gasp. His lips brush along your knuckles. "So you'll trust me, won't you?"

"Yes. Whatever you want."

"Such dangerous words."

You don't ask he means by that. It wouldn't matter. Wouldn't make it any less true. The tight space that Sunday has carved for you is yours no matter how suffocating. It's yours and you would do so much to please him.

Sunday lets his fingers walk up the curve of your spine. You shiver, watching him. He's pleased somehow, and that's good you think. It's better than him being angry. His hand stops at the nape of your neck, cupping it and rubbing his thumb along your pulse.

"Let me in,"

You don't know what that means until you feel it. Two sensations press against you at the same time. Sunday's abilities - halovian and not. Your eyes close tight at the pressure in your skull, but Sunday's hand in the physical world soothes you. He's reaching you in two ways - two different ways. You know them now.

His powers feel different from his halovian abilities. His powers (or THEIR powers, you suppose) are piercing and needlepoint - never completely pleasant or intended to relieve. He uses them only occasion, and never for too long. The invocation is usually a test of some kind. Even as he mutters the words against your neck now, they illicit that kind of response. It makes your body pulsate. It's pain that only he can deliver and heal - pain that he gives to you, that is yours. It's not harsh enough to incapacitate.

But it's strong enough that the back of your teeth chatter. Your muscles pull, lurching forward to collapse in his arms. Like a hot iron searing your tongue - like a needle going through the softest part of it. Your first are closed into tightly as you allow him inside of your very being. Penetration that outweigh physical, violates you to the core and carves you out tenderly. You're awake and alive and ruined beyond whats mortal. It's not so intense usually. Allowing him to sink in the hollow blankness of your mind and dig his sharp claws into the soft matter. Jolts of electricity spatter along your insides - your mouth open with drool sliding down both end. HE is inside of you. HE intends to control you until he decides to stop.

You open your mouth to speak but the pressure is too strong. Another sensation follows you, then - just after you get used to the first. It's different. It's the gift he was born with, the pleasant throb of halovian telepathy.

You feel your jaw go slack at the overwhelming difference between pain. Complete, unyielding euphoria.

You moan. Your physical body reacts - your clit throbbing so hard it stings, making your entire lower body like it will melt off of you. With a shaky inhale, you feel the full breadth of Sunday's internal emotions. Possession and adoration knit themselves together and move like a caress over every inch of your body. Lightheaded from the pressure, your breathing strains.

There's not a single part of you Sunday is not touching intimately - fingers and palms and tongues. His physical hands, soft and placating rub your pussy and drive you to hysteria. His voice is whispering you words of comfort - to trust and hold on. His emotions twist and dominate yours and everything in you sings back in obedience. You want to cry. And you think you will after your adjusted enough to remember where you end and Sunday begins. If that ever happens. If it's possible experiencing the weight of this.

You're boneless underneath his touch. Your physical body and sensations reach heights far beyond and in true, utter desperation you call his name. You're not usually so spoiled but it's too much and you need him. "Sunday. Kiss me."

You can see yourself almost in third person. His laugh is smooth but breathy, as he lays you down on the mattress and leans over you. He kisses you as you've asked, long and deep - and doesn't pull away even as you lick desperately at his lips. Your nails are clenched into your hand, making them bleed.

He speaks to you clearly.

"You love me don't you?"

The words barely make it out of your mouth. Your heart is pounding. It's not like you can lie like this anyway, but you never would. "Yes. Yes, I love you."

He must feel it. Feels you as much as you feel him because he laughs near jovial and kisses you again. His soft lips slide against your shoulder, your collarbones. "Yes. I love you too. But you know that."

Yes. You do know. There's no way you couldn't.

Your entire body feels weak as Sunday lowers himself further and further. His mouth, warm and inviting - leaves open mouth kisses across the entire expanse of your body. Your nerves feel fried, like they're getting pulled like weeds and laid out.

You know what Sunday's mouth feels like well, but like this is too much. Too much to fast, your spine arches off the back of your bed as his breath ghosts over bare cunt. Gasping, you reach for the sheets behind you. No awareness of your surroundings can save you from it.

Ruthless as always, you feel his tongue slip against your folds and lose sight of the remaining threads of your consciousness. Sunday uses his abilities to stabilize you, says something about how you can't pass out yet. You whine at the back of throat but don't tell him to stop. He praises you for that with another long stripe against your clit.

Sunday is good at knowing your body. Pristine and precise to the point of being scary. He lays his tongue flat and latches himself on you, angular in leading you to your orgasm. Your body is so impossibly sensitive that he barely goes for a minute before you feel yourself shuddering in that familiar desperate way. His feelings come in a wave after that, a pink hue in your eyelids as he expresses his unending praise even after your incredibly premature orgasm.

"Sorry," You mutter, barely breathing as everything swirls inside of you. Your stomach flips. He puts his hand up to hold yours. "Didn't ask for permission."

He laughs at that, bright and pretty. He's pleased with you. You're practically vibrating from need. It's alright. You don't have to ask today."

"Are you...aah...sure?"

"Yes. It was polite of you to ask." He praises, and kisses the inside of your thigh. He licks your pussy again this time with deliberate slowness and you cry out his name. "You're so wet for me. So sweet. Should I use my hands at all or do you think you can take me as is, hm, my love?"

"Give it to me," You slur, unsure if you can hold out on it much longer. "Please, please, please."

"No need to beg. I do like to hear it though." He says, mostly to himself. He kisses you as another wave of sensation enraptures you and leave you limp. You feel it all again, strong to the point of feeling numb. Piercing pain followed by overwhelming, lovesick euphoria. Your body goes limp against the bed, fingers curling into the sheets.

Sunday coos at you. He guides your arms around his neck and guides your hands to his shoulders. "You can hurt me a little."

"Don't want to hurt you."

"I want you too," He says, and you think if you were sober enough it'd feel like a confession. "It's alright. You'll never be sharper than I can handle."

You whimper but concede, letting your nails dig into his flesh hard to keep yourself together. Sunday whispers praise against your neck as you go through the impossible motions of it. It's so much longer than he'd normally put you through his and your body is pushed to it's limits. You know that but he seems pleased with you. You want to please him.

"You're doing well." He praises, softer than ever. "A little more. Just a bit."

The world could be ending outside around you, but you would be completely clueless to it. The only thing, the only thought, the only consideration you can make towards Sunday. His adoration does not feel like the flicker of a candle, but like ball of light curling around itself. It is tight, and hot, and always at risk of exploding itself into something cosmic and unreachable. You wonder if it is possible to love too much, but tell yourself that isn't true.

Even as love makes a mess of you in the physical and metaphysical and all else. Even as it flays you open and guts you and licks you until you are all but hollow yearning, you don't think he loves you too much. You just think that he loves you. If Sunday is all the concentrated light in the universe, you are the eternal darkness meant to make him whole. Your love for him just as deep, like a void that never ends - certain, inevitable darkness.

Your tongue feels heave in your mouth as you kiss Sunday again. A lonesomeness comes every minute you spend apart, even brief. Sunday does not leave you alone for long.

Even as he prepares himself to feel you deeper, he whispers and talks to you. Placating praise leaves tears welling at the corners of your eyes but you nod and listen anyway. You wait for him.

"Take a deep breath." He tells you. He positions himself over you again - though you can barely see or understand as you open your eyes. You blink rapidly, trying to get a sense of his expression even as your mind is gripped at the corners and pulled taut at every edge. Color clouds your vision - hazy making your eyes glass over as you attempt to pry them open. Sunday appears before you like an Aeon in all their glory, beautiful and divine. You sniffle at the sight of him, whimpering at the sensation of his hands on your thighs.

"I love you," You whimper at the touch of his cool hands on your hot skin. "Love you,"

"I know," He says, sliding his cock along your folds with such unwavering affection it makes you gasp. The tip throbs along your clit, sticky with need and you whine. "Shh. I'm here."

You allow him whatever he wants. Your head feels full. Nodding, drunk and floating - you squeeze your eyes close as you feel the tip of Sunday's cock push through you. You wish you could see it better, though you've seen it before. Long and pretty, red tip and neat hair at the base. The sensation makes your tummy flutter, your hands up to his shoulders.

Your pussy weeps at the feeling of him finally entering you, something deep in your body begging for him. Your throat closes, eyes watering at the sensation of being so full as he starts to move. Slow but sure, not intended to pain you - restrained. Everything is full. Heart, body, mind - every inch of you harbors Sunday like he's made you in his image. Your lower half throbs and thrums, a euphoric outpour making your legs wrap around his waist. You don't want him to move. You want him to carve himself in you and stay forever.

Tears fall helplessly as he bottoms out. His waist is pretty, you think - as you see where his meets yours. You see his cock sheathed inside and your mouth drops open. Sunday grinds against you, hot as it touches your sweet spot. Never-ending in his chase to please you.

"Sunday," Your voice is hoarse as he moves his hands to rest between your bodies, thumb brushing along your clit. "I'll cum."

It's more than that. You think if you start, there's no way you're going to be able to stop. The thought frightens you almost. Sunday is quick to assure you.

"It's okay," He tells you, and keeps moving and touching to bring you to the very precipice without any mercy at all. "I know. Your body is mine and it's what I wanted. So," He glances up at you with as mile. "Give me what I ask of you."

Your lips form into a pout because you know you can't say no to that. You wonder why this is what he wants from you, but your brain is too scrambled to even try to deduce it.

Feeling an orgasm this way isn't something you've ever experienced in your life. You can't imagine you ever will again. That much pleasure and sensation, life-ruining - feels like falling through space with no assurance of when you'll crash. Just knowing it will come eventually. Your entire body lurches forward at the full sensation, bursting at the seams. Everything around you melts until you're left with nothing but hot white pleasure racketing along each of your exposed, frayed nerves. You fall away and into nothing. It feels so good you can't speak, can't think, can't do anything but let that nasty sob leave your lips in complete and utter ruin. You cry for Sunday - teary, snotty, pathetic, and you want to beg him for something though you aren't sure it's mercy.

He fucks you through it. The repetitive sensation of your body being fucked while you're lifeless makes your ears ring but Sunday fucks you anyway. Fucks you meaner than you though he was capable of, fucks you precise. Lets his cock fuck into you with such force your cunt is forced to remember him until death do you part. You can only feel Sunday. Every atom of you his, his his.

You spend so much time in that high, you barely know when it stops. Sunday fucks you to his own orgasm and you feel that inside of you too, which only makes you cry longer.

You know it's over when Sunday starts to pull away and you feel unimaginably hollow. Even though it was so hard on your body for the entire duration, you find yourself exhausted when you start to sober up and open your eyes. You see Sunday before closing them again. He is as beautiful as always.

__

You think you must pass out for a bit, because a breach of time comes where you see nothing but darkness. When you're awake - you're in a bath in the hotel bathroom.

Sunday has not left your side when you're awake again. He looks worried as he sits on the edge of the tub and waits for you.

The water is warm and comfortable. You are tired and very, very hungry. Sunday looks at you but doesn't realize you're awake even as you gaze at him. He seems sad and that saddens you.

"Sunday? Everything okay?"

His eyes open wide when he hears you speak. Your voice is barely there. He's still naked. You blink. "You're not wearing clothes."

He stares at you for a long, long time. And then, afterwards, his bare hand comes up to your cheek and cups your neck. He kisses you deeply, tenderly and it makes you sigh a little to feel. It's unusual. He laughs against your lips.

"I wanted to bathe with you," He says after a long while. You widen your eyes. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, uhm," You nod feeling self conscious. "That's fine."

"And," he holds your hand in the soapy water and lets his thumb smooth against your finger. "Let's eat together. After. Okay?"

You smile to yourself. "Uh-huh. Okay."

You love him you think. There's no such thing as too much. No matter how it would look to anyone else. You think Sunday loves you too. Enough to ruin you completely and put you back together again.

[auncyen]

this got me looking at my ISAT fics and some I have tagged with the platonic relationships in them and others I have not and for me it just literally comes down to "do I think there's a strong emphasis on the relationship compared to canon because I don't want to make people think I'm doing a deep look at the friendship if it's just canon-typical interaction". One's ongoing and should gain "Siffrin & Everyone" if it keeps going, another's already tagged that, one's got Odile & Isabeau, but, yeah, some of mine just don't have any relationship tagged because none of them particularly stand out to me mentally contrasted to canon, but that's also the kind of judgment call I can see people disagreeing on.

Why do I keep seeing fics on ao3 without any relationships tagged, even ones that r specifically abt like. A friend group or whatever. Do ppl assume it's for romantic relationships only or smth and so don't tag anything

[tinyluvs]

⁺‧₊˚ back massage 𖤐 aether&mountain ˚₊‧⁺

❥ summary; remember this post and how i talked about aether giving mount a back massage? well i expanded on that, enjoy ❥ warnings; a slight misuse of quint, unprofessional!aether but this is all consensual, don’t worry. mount gets a back massage & his ass fucked, good for him. i still don’t know how to tag lol ❥ authors note; got asked to elaborate, i did, everyone cheers ❥ wc; 1.8k ₊˚⊹♡⁺‧₊˚𖤐 read on ao3; ˗ˏˋ ꒰꒰ here !! ꒱꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𖤐˚₊.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

aether looks up from his book when rain pokes his head into his room, “hey, mountain asked if you could go to his room to do the thing, he said you’d know what that means,” rain informs him, tapping his fingers against aether’s door frame

“yeah, i know what that means,” aether smiles, snaps his book shut and stands, leaving everything as is to go to mountain, “thanks rain,” aether hums, pressing a kiss to the water ghouls temple before making his way down the hallway

mountain’s door is cracked open an inch so he doesn’t knock when he gets there, just pushes into the room quietly. mountains room is in darkness, his curtains drawn, the only light coming from his little leaf shaped string lights hung around his shelves

the earth ghoul sits on the edge of his bed, looking utterly broken, his hand drifting up and down his lower back, “aether,” he whines, looking up as aether shuts his door and moves closer

“what did you do this time?” aether asks him, kneeling down in front of him, his hands rubbing gently over mountain’s thighs, thumbs pressing in small circles.

mountain huffs, “nothing,”

this is a lie but he isn’t about to admit he had once again tried to move four huge bags of soil at once and something had popped painfully in his lower back. aether chuckles lightly, he knows what has happened but he won’t tease mountain about it, not right now anyway

aether kisses mountains forehead and then his lips, “let’s get you comfortable then,” he hums, fingers dancing up underneath the hem of mountains top, pulling it up, up and off. he stands back to his full height, folding mountains shirt as he goes, “need any help?”

mountain shakes his head as he gently repositions himself, shuffling on his ass backwards across his bed, “uhm, actually, could you do the pillows please?” he asks, his fingers still pressing gently into his spine

“of course,” aether smiles softly and reaches over, grabbing at mountains pillows. the earth ghoul watches as aether fluffs his pillows and arranges them in a sort of nest, he’s done this enough times to know exactly where to put them

once he’s done he steps back, gesturing lightly to the space between the pillows, a perfect sized space for mountain’s body. mountain moves, only wincing once as he manages to roll onto his front, tucking his arms underneath his pillow, his cheek nuzzling against soft fabric

as his back stretches and settles he gasps, his body panic tensing and then untensing, “aether, fix it,” he whines into his pillow, peeking through one eye at aether, who is still stood just next to his bed

kneeling gently on his bed, aether moves slowly, carefully, as to not jerk mountains back at all as he straddles and settles over mountain’s ass, holding most of his weight in his knees. he’s a big ghoul and on any normal day, mountain could take his weight but not right now, thankfully aether won’t take it personally

gently, aether brushes his fingers up mountain’s spine, stopping at the base of his neck to drift back down, circling around what appears to be the problem area, mountain tensing ever so slightly as aether touches it

“here?” aether whispers even though he already knows, quintessence already bleeding into his fingertips, hovering just over mountains bare skin. mountains tail swishes gently in front of aether before wrapping around his wrist, tugging lightly to press aethers fingers to his back

mountains tail unwinds from his wrist, batting around aimlessly until it finds aether’s side, circling around his waist instead, “please,” he whispers, maybe a little pathetically but aether can’t see the way his cheeks heat against his pillow so it’s fine

aether starts slow, pressing his thumbs either side of mountain’s spine, pausing for a second when the earth ghoul gasps at his touch. he continues slowly, quintessence flowing from him to mountain, soothing the ache almost immediately

he rubs gentle circles in the little arch at the base of mountain’s back, pressing in just so, managing to drag a quiet, “fuck aeth,” from mountain, one of his hands sliding out from underneath his pillow, fisting lightly at his sheets instead

working up his back, aether doesn’t miss an inch of skin. brushing his fingers everywhere he can touch, his thumbs tracing underneath mountain’s shoulder blades, sliding in soft lines back and forth until mountain is visibly softening underneath him

“feels s’good,” mountain hums, quintessence flowing nicely through his body, making him perfectly pliant and soft, just how aether wants him, “don’t stop, please don’t stop,” he groans, his tail squeezing at aethers waist

“i’m not going to,” aether reassures, leaning forward slightly to press his thumbs up mountain’s spine, all the way from his coccyx, past the base of his tail and up to his neck, knots melting away in an instance, not standing a single chance against aether’s fingers

a never ending stream of moans and groans spill from mountain, soft whines and whimpers that catch in his throat but all of them go south to aether’s cock, a soft tent forming in the front of his pants as he fills out, only partially against his will

aether swallows thickly and pumps his quintessence, pushing it into his palms as well as his fingers, quickly flooding mountain’s veins with it. mountain whines softly as he feels it seeping into his limbs, his head, everywhere, all he can feel is aether and he wouldn't want it any other way

mountain’s body eventually goes lax, sinking into his mattress with a heavy sigh, his cheek squishing into his pillow, he’s not sure he could move even if he wanted to.

in the back of his mind mountain registers a shift in the scent of the room, aether’s obvious arousal being hard to ignore, even with enough quintessence to kill a human flowing through his body, but he’s too relaxed, too far gone to do a single thing about it

on the other hand, aether is starting to struggle. his cock pulses in his pants, a small damp spot soaking into the front as he leaks, his tip pulsing as it rubs sinfully against the too harsh fabric constricting him

in a moment of pure desperation aether takes a hand off of mountain’s back, moving to palm himself softly, rutting his hips forward to grind against his hand. he groans shakily, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling

“aeth,” mountain slurs, whines, a delayed reaction to aether stopping his movements. if he could move he would peek over his shoulder, would see aether shamelessly touching himself inches away from his ass but he can’t move, can’t see a sight that would make his mouth water

“y-yeah, fuck, sorry,” aether pants, returning both hands to mountain’s back though his movements aren’t as smooth as before, the amount of pressure he’s applying is all wrong, “f-fuck mount, just let me, hold on,” he rambles

aether shuffles backwards, straddling the backs of mountain’s thighs. his fingers tease at the waistband of mountain’s pants, dipping underneath just enough to tug on them, pulling them halfway down his thighs

the soft swell of mountain’s ass makes aether’s cock throb and aether breaks, shoving his own pants down, tucking them underneath his heavy balls and out of his way. he rolls his hips forward, sliding the wet ruddy head of his cock against mountain’s ass

mountain groans and pushes his ass up, or at least he thinks he does, he’s not entirely sure but he doesn’t have to think on it for long before aether is using his thumbs to spread him apart, exposing his little pink hole

“fuck,” aether whispers, to no one but himself as he presses the pad of his thumb against mountain’s wet rim. a small wet slick sound as he dips in makes him moan, mountain’s hole already perfectly loose and soft with the over abundance of quintessence he’s been dealt with

leaning over himself, aether spits on to his own cock, jerking himself off once, twice and three times, in too much of a hurry to even attempt to ask mountain where his lube is hidden, instead he swipes his thumb over his tip, soaking every inch of his cock with spit and pre

underneath him mountain starts to get impatient, whining and whimpering, words having left him, over the lack of touch on his back, it being forgotten about while aether preps himself, something mountain still can’t move to see though the room around him fills with a wet sound he knows all too well

“uh huh, i’m coming back,” aether moans loudly and lines himself up, pressing the throbbing head of his cock against mountain’s winking hole. slowly and gently he presses in, stretching mountain’s rim just right around the widest part of his tip before pulling back

mountain’s hole clenches, kissing aether’s tip wetly while his slick mixes with the pre spurting from aether’s cock, pooling between them with nowhere to go. aether watches, sinking his fangs into his bottom lip to stifle a groan and holding his breath as he pushes forward, slowly splitting mountain open on his length

aether hangs his head and presses his hands into the mattress when he sinks, inch by inch, into mountain, stopping when he gets halfway there, needing time to adjust to the wet warm clutch of mountain’s ass, something he doesn’t think he will ever get used to, before continuing, hissing as his cock disappears into the earth ghoul

once he’s seated fully against mountain’s ass, both ghouls groan in sync, “lucifer below,” aether pants, leaning over mountains back to press his lips to his neck, causing mountain to tighten around him, wet and warm and just right

“hmmm,” mountain hums, drooling onto his pillows, his fingers twitching to pinch and pull at his sheets. he hums twice, in quick succession, something that sounds enough like aeth-er to get his attention

aether shushes him, lips still teasing at his pulse. his hands finally return to mountains back, fingertips tickling down his sides, “stay still f’me,” aether whispers, knowing mountain can’t move anyway, “i promise it’ll help,” he finishes, nipping at mountain’s skin

mountain manages to stay perfectly still while aether massages his back. he stays still as aether’s fat cock splits him open, sliding in and out of his wet hole. he shudders, only slightly, when aether spills thick and hot, flooding deep inside him with cum

but, mountain drools, wails and full body jerks when aether slides a hand between him and the mattress to wrap his fist around his painfully hard cock, jerking him off slightly too fast but mountain is too close to care, spilling over aethers fist way too fast.

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! & comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah! send prompts to my ask box!

𖤐 ghouls masterlist

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

ok so I know this is a petty hill to die on, but I know you're 1- a really huge blog that lots of people see, and 2- a decent person, so I’m hoping you can hear that I’m not trying to be antagonistic or anything.

anyway- you tagged that wicked post with "I feel like they've trauma bonded" or something similar, which is really funny, but one thing- that's not what a trauma bond is, and as a victim of actual trauma bonding, I’m on something of a mission to correct the way ppl have been misusing the term.

to quote psychology today, "A trauma bond is an emotional attachment that can form in an abusive relationship, specifically the connection the victim feels toward the perpetrator. A trauma bond is characterized by cycles of negative reinforcement interspersed with occasional bursts of positive reinforcement; this so-called intermittent reinforcement makes it very difficult to leave an abusive relationship."

anyway, I don't mean to be rude or presumptuous or anything, I’m just trying to get the word out lol

i dont think thats rude or petty at all! you're being the opposite of antagonistic rn i wouldn't blame you if you came up a bit aggressively even, its a reasonable thing to be turned a bit sideways about.

ive always understood a trauma bond to be a bond two people forge due to a shared trauma, like two unhealthily close siblings surviving together under a shared abusive parent. but now that i know its actually more like self justification the abused child utilizes to keep their abuser parent as a loving caretaker in their mind to protect their own sanity, i know not to describe it like that first way anymore.

thanks for giving me the opportunity to learn more about it so i dont make any further mistakes and can do my part to help others understand too <3