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omg welcome back!

aw thank you!

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sharing this stupid thing i said on discord because it makes me laugh

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Some silly sketches of my favorite feeeshhh (and orca)

The first two sketches were made in magma with one person :3

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poor tempered wilbur who goes through women like water, each one leaving him once they see what he's really like behind his facade. but instead of taking it out on her, "deals with it" by taking it out on tommy, storming into his room, screaming at him, grabbing and touching and hitting whatever part of tommy's body he can.

Tommy used to shout, to beg and plead for wilbur to stop, but after a few months of the treatment, he gets used to it. Wilbur always apologises after, anyway. He kisses his head gently and cries into tommy's shoulder as he begs tommy not to be mad at him for lashing out.

Eventually, tommy starts getting excited for when Wilbur inevitably hurts him, it's really the only quality time they spend together, and wilbur's touches are far too intimate – it sends a wave of something... embarrasing through him, even just at the idea of it. Tommy wonders if one day Wilbur will finally fully commit to tommy, maybe his brother would go further next time. Leave the "subtle" touches behind and finally let go. Not that he'd enjoy it. Not at all. He would never! Atleast, that's what he tells himself.

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Toxic Tombur, my friends✨(I wrote this with c! In mind, but however you want to look at it, go ahead). Wilbur’s real feelings are up for interpretation.

Real names used under cut

There was a specific kind of tiredness--bone-deep and heavy--that encouraged soft acquiescence.

Other kinds of tiredness were remarkably less efficient; exhaustion that fell flush against stubbornness, and fatigue that lent itself to harsh words and harsher tears. When Tommy took advantage of the rare moments Wilbur could let him go to think of how tired he's been since Wilbur made Tommy’s home his, he wondered if the weariness he felt was as unique as every other trauma he'd suffered. If it could be so squarely defined within the constraints of human nature that Wilbur outright disregarded.

Introspection didn't suit him. Tommy turned over in his bed, pressing his pillow against his face to muffle the groan that rose in his throat. It was four in the morning, and he was restless. He was sleepy. He was a million things at once, but he wasn't asleep.

It could be anything keeping him awake. It could be the constant thrum of anxiety that lingered under his skin. It could be the guilt he felt for every person he had betrayed and lost. It could have been that Wilbur trained him well; that their night-time adventures had become so regular that Tommy was always waiting for the next move to make.

So maybe that was why he was having trouble sleeping; because Wilbur could steal away in the dead of night without a trace, and Tommy would actually have to live with everything they had been through... everything Wilbur had put him through... instead of piling more pain on top to temporarily ease the constant press of misery that threatened to engulf him.

The floors creaked. Tommy’s door swung open.

Or maybe he was afraid of something different, after all. It was still Wilbur--just like everything in Tommy’s life seemed to revolve around him--but it was different. Maybe it was the suffocating fear and lingering pain and shameful, sickening pride that, of all people, Wilbur’s twisted and uncertain feelings were for Tommy. It wasn't quite like love, not in the way that Tommy understood it, but... it wasn't not love either.

And Wilbur reserved it for him.

Tommy’s curtains were open a sliver, allowing the moonlight to peek through uncertainly. He felt a chill all of a sudden like the door opening had let in a draft; the air was muggy and stale, however, which explained the unbearable warmth of his pillow against his cheek. Wilbur’s shadow extended grotesquely across the soft carpet of Tommy’s room, his socked feet a whisper against Tommy’s rug.

He sat down next to Tommy, who was still facing the wall. Wilbur faced the opposite wall, glaring at his assortment of half finished sewing projects and crumpled up notebook paper on the floor. He didn't say anything, and Tommy ached for some kind of sign--some kind of message from Wilbur so he knew what this was.

So he knew if he should speak, or just shut up the way Wilbur liked him to sometimes, because he knew that begging or crying made Wilbur feel a shadow of guilt, which made him angry. Indescribably angry.

"You're awake," Wilbur didn't sound surprised. He didn't sound mad, but that didn't mean much: he was hot and cold, and it was nearly impossible to determine what Wilbur was feeling just by the way he talked. Wilbur was a liar, and a good one at that--Tommy thought to himself often that he knew Wilbur better than he knew himself, but even he couldn't always keep up.

"Yeah," Tommy murmured into his pillow. Sweat beaded at his nape, and he didn't dare turn around just yet. There was a lot more he wanted to say, but he didn't have the means to tip-toe around how disgusting Wilbur made him feel when his entire body felt like concrete and the world was moving slowly in muted colors. Tommy’s eyes slipped closed, but he blinked them open again when Wilbur shifted as though uncomfortable.

"Should I drug you?" Wilbur asked, voice so uncharacteristically soft that Tommy almost believed that he respected the unspoken boundaries of a quiet bedroom. He didn't slur, either; Wilbur sounded stone-cold sober and, judging by the way he kept his head angled so he could avoid meeting Tommy’s gaze, he was trying to skirt the edges of an apology. Wilbur rarely apologized, and he nearly never meant it when he did. The words were meaningless to him but meant everything to Tommy. "Would that make you..."

He didn't finish his sentence, and Tommy could have spent the rest of his life wondering what he was going to say that was so fragile it couldn't breach the air between them.

Tommy let out a deep breath, the constant anger and frustration that he kept hidden away behind his sternum escaping with the gust of air. "I don't like drugs, Wilbur," he said placidly; not quite soft, but not even nearly reaching the venomous tone Wilbur could take on when his vitriol extended far enough. "You know I don't."

Wilbur shrugged. It was casual but practised, like Wilbur had thought the action through and settled on it for a particular reason. He couldn't begin to understand why Wilbur did what he did during the day, so he didn't even try and just let it slip away. "You don't--there's a lot of things you don't like, Tommy," Wilbur said. His voice sounded rougher in the dark, deeper and darker to match the atmosphere that had been so carefully cultivated. "Doesn't mean they aren't what you need."

"Like I need you?" Tommy wanted to ask scathingly, but he quickly lost his nerve. He didn't hate Wilbur. He didn't want to ruin the calm between them to make a jab that would hurt him more deeply than it would ever hurt Wilbur. "I'm okay, Wil," he said instead. He wasn't sure if it was the truth; he wasn't sure if there was any foundation of truth between them. Wilbur communicated with pretty lies and ugly truths almost equally, but Tommy... Tommy’s entire life was built on the fact that he was okay.

Wilbur hummed, and Tommy knew that his brother didn't believe him with more certainty than he had ever felt in his life. His eyes watered--the cruel evasion of sleep tangling with raw emotion--and he felt flayed open in his bedroom. Tommy’s heart was messy. It had blown out some time ago, the shredded muscle staining his interior, but he welcomed the feeling.

"Would it make you feel better if I said sorry, Tommy?" Wilbur asked. "If I told you it wouldn't happen again, and that it was a dick move?" Tommy shook his head slowly, quiet tears making their way down his cheeks.

Wilbur sighed, pressing his palms against his eyes like he was trying to reset the wiring behind them.

They sat in silence.

Finally, Tommy turned onto his side more fully, his body bracketing Wilbur’s; his knees pressed against one side of Wilbur and his chest pressed to the other. He held his breath, but the touch was neither painful nor pleasurable. It didn't make him feel bad or dirty like he was doing something wrong (a feeling that took over him regularly), but he didn't feel like it was necessarily right either.

It was just...touch. Nerves seeking nerves and skin knowing skin with no intention other than to soothe the need for contact. Sometimes, Tommy felt so starved of everything, so bare of everything, that Wilbur’s fumbling hands and stinging kisses felt like medicine. It was painful to accept it, but the alternative was too; almost equally so.

Wilbur laid his large hand on Tommy’s head--he had the uncanny ability, even as Tommy grew just slightly bigger, to make him feel small and fragile--and brushed his curls back.

Tommy shook under him. More from exhaustion from anything else; that same tiredness meant he didn't protest when Wilbur pushed him over to the side, crawling onto Tommy’s small bed properly and trapping Tommy between him and the wall. One of Wilbur’s hands slipped under Tommy’s shirt, and Tommy’s breath hitched slightly--waiting for the night to be overtaken violently and the time between them to be tainted with self-loathing for just letting it happen.

"Go to sleep, Tommy," Wilbur whispered in his ear. If he thought he had been warm before, Wilbur’s body pressed against his was burning him.

Tommy had the brief and terrifying thought that this might very well have been the first time Wilbur had ever touched him while he was sober. It was difficult to recall through the haze of tears and betrayal and gut-wrenching anguish that took hold of him during the moments where Wilbur touched him in… a wrong way. Now, Wilbur was almost trembling, his fingers shaking with restraint as they pressed firmly against him, pushing him flush against himself. He didn't have the stomach to consider what that meant for him--to deliberate on the ways in which Wilbur could take advantage of Tommy’s fogged mind and his own clear one.

Tommy felt safe and unsafe simultaneously; like Wilbur was neither a danger nor a savior, and could be swayed to an unfavourable position if Tommy made one ill-thought-out move. He didn't know if he could obey Wilbur, not with them in his bed like this when he was so used to that closeness meaning something dark and secret, but his instincts--or hard-won conditioning--combined with the general weariness that hadn't let up since Wilbur came back into his life and made the choice for him.

Tommy wiped his eyes on the back of his palm, and let Wilbur coax him into a troubled sleep.

[dovebugs]

Teasing you

A Collab with @koi-balda we did some time ago!

This one is my line and her colors ^^

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guys i fucking love sootcest

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THIS IS FUCKING SICK!!

Ello tumblr nation

I'm completely new here, I have no idea how to start growing an audience here, but I'll show you one redrawn old tombur art :D

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It wasn't quiet anymore.

For some reason the world was suddenly filled with sounds— a clock on the wall, cars driving by, kids cursing and screaming at each other.

It felt odd.

Tommy was laying in bed and questioning his life choices.

Just yesterday he was yelling at his brother that he's fucking sick in the head and that he should stop lying to his therapist and that his therapist is ass if he can't tell that "this wanker of a man" is a liar.

Then he looked at Will menacingly, gripping his collar.

And then they started making out.

Soon Tommy was straddling his waist, undoing his shirt with practiced ease.

Yes he still remembered how to do it quickly and efficiently, yes he was desperate, he was so desperate his mouth was watering and when it wasn't it was occupied with biting the other's lips and opening his mouth so the other could let himself in and start drawing perfectly pitched sounds out of him.

It was the next morning.

Cold, bleak rays of sunshine were painting pictures on his blanket.

This whole situation was so so so fucked up. He should kick his brother the hell out, block his phone number and then—!

He felt a warm familiar tingling on his neck. Gentle teasing pain ran through him in sparkles.

He hid his eyes behind his hand and groaned.

A love mark. He is a lover boy and he belongs to his brother—

Fuck.

He is a fucking freak

A hand circles his waist. He watches it and notes a beautiful purple cuff on its wrist. Ah... His own handiwork

He turns around. Will is not quite awake yet and that's good. Tommy wants him to get a good amount of sleep. Those dark circles under his eyes were so horrid he thought he drew them on. So unless Wilbur was sick in the head and tattooed them on they were real and it was very concerning.

His face was now adorned with a healthy pink. Tommy gave him something to eat before bed— he can't remember what it actually was because soon after he was a little bit busy trying not to cum untouched—

"H-huh?" That was sudden-!

Someones mouth occupied a small spot on his neck. Then... A flat brush. Tommy shivers as Will wets his skin with his tongue like a vampire.

"Ah-! Mmmh..." He moans quietly. Yes, yes, keep sucking... He strokes his hand with his fingertips, encouraging him to keep going.

Will pulls away, satisfied with his work. He smiles into the other's shoulder. "Shit. Sorry— I remember you said you hated when I did that-"

"Good morning to you too" said Tommy, yawning. "And I lied."

"Oh" Will looked at him innocently with subtle melancholy in his eyes. "Well good thing I wasn't making you uncomfortable then"

Tommy watched him get out of bed and start collecting his clothes from the floor.

"Wait! Where are you going??" He said, panicking.

Will turned around "Home..?" He asked him, unsure of his own answer. "I mean you did want me to get out of here. I think I definitely overstepped some boundaries and so I doubt I'm still welcome here"

Tommy felt his cheeks heat up.

"Yes, well, wait, no— uhm. Actually I thought you could—" his eyes darted away "...Stay for breakfast?"

Will stopped trying to tug his pants back on.

"What?"

"Uhm— nevermind, forget I said anything-!"

"Tommy, no..." He finally put the piece of clothing on, leaving him, well, still topless but then again Tommy was still wearing the blanket. "This was bad enough..."

Will sighed. "Didn't you say you were better off without me? No contact and everything? You even decided to finally block my Discord yesterday. For— a minute. Of course, I'm not the one to tell you this but..."

"It wasn't—" he interrupted himself and went silent. "I don't regret it." Tommy shrugged and smiled to himself but the smile wasn't reaching his eyes.

"You don't—?" Will sat down next to him on the bed. "Tommy I'm so so sorry I shouldn't have—"

"Stop apologizing!" He groaned. "I messaged you. You're not the only one to blame for this situation. Also I don't want to blame anyone!" He threw his hands in the air. "I'm fucked in the head, alright?"

"Because of me"

"Probably because of mom and dad actually. You've just made it worse" Will cringed. "Anyway. I'm not ok and it's not a "you" problem. You're not ok as well, alright?"

And then he was on top of Will.

"I wanted this too." His beautiful blue eyes turned dark cloudy grey. "Without you it got worse. I started forgetting things. The world— went silent a-and I was just. in a constant state of filming and writing, filming and writing. I almost never slept because I had— wet dreams. With you in them. And you always left in the end... So I woke up crying more often than not..." Tommy gripped Will's jeans and turned away. Yeah his jeans have a really cool belt, way more interesting than his face stained with pain.

"Tommy I'm..." He sighed. Then gulped. "Ok. My therapist said I should talk more about— things that make me feel a certain way. I guess I never did it with her but... Ok I'll tell you"

Tommy looked up.

But Wilbur never—

"I've been losing sleep too. And weight. And well— I've already told you I stopped writing because I couldn't come up with anything... I managed the first two years. My writing only got worse. I started watching your shows. Obviously no one is technically allowed to record so they're really bad. But I was so curious and... Admittedly I missed you. Then I left the band and started working night shifts. It helped to just. Forget about everything and stop being worried for a few days. But then the weekend rolled around. And— everything crumbled under my fingers. I kept pushing people away. I don't talk to anyone from the band anymore..." He sighed. "That felt horrid. I have no idea why my therapist decided it'll be a good idea. I think I have a better one"

He hugged Tommy and pressed his nose into the crook of his neck. "You still smell like caramel and cola..."

"And you still smell like... like a fuckin'— like you. I donno what to compare it to"

Wilbur laughed.

"Can I suck you off?"

"Tommy what the fuck—"

"Well I figured you wouldn't mind— also my dick's getting your jeans dirty"

"No! I just washed them-!" He kicked Tommy off of himself. He fell into the white sheets with a soft "poof" and started laughing. "You little prick!"

Tommy was out of his element a little bit. Yet he still licked his lips lewdly and grinned. Wilbur gulped.

"Fuck. Ok. I remember you were always into it a bit too much"

"You said it was a fixation"

"It is. You should Google it when we're done."

"Got it!"

.

.

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5 notes and I'm writing the next one for this AU

Ok jokes aside I just got a little bit tired and I don't think I can write an nsfw scene rn.

So to be continued!

-Mystery

another banger

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I LOVE TOMNAP SO MUCH HOW DID YOU KNOW!!!

return to form with a t0mnap moodboard :3

they are so freaking cute theyre my fav rare pair

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anyone thinking about tommy making fun of wilbur for being in love with him . tommy fucking himself on wilbur's dick while mocking him for being a gross incestuous freak. wilbur crying while being humilated and demeaned by the much younger boy.

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Kinktober day 2: (learning) dirty talk

"I suck at it," Tommy whined, his face burning. "Seriously, I've never done this before, I don't even know what I should say!"

Wilbur smiled, warm and reassuring, his eyes creasing in that sweet, familiar way that Tommy loved. He let his hands roam all the way up Tommy's arm, then back down. From his shoulders to his wrists, easing all the tension from his muscles.

"You don't have to be good at it," he said softly. "I don't expect you to be the best dirty talker ever. I know you're new to this. But you'll never learn if you never try." Tommy pulled his hands away from Wilbur's hold and covered his face with them. As long as he couldn't see Wilbur, Wilbur couldn't see him either, right? "Come on, Toms. I'm not going to touch you until you start talking."

Tommy shook his head and waited patiently, hands still on his eyes as he waited patiently for Wilbur to give up and move. But he didn't. He never did anything. His hands were no longer on Tommy, the only point of connection was where Tommy sat butt naked on Wilbur's still clothed thigh. Tommy needed more than that. But when he tried to grind down on the thigh, Wilbur's hands gripped his hip and held him there. Tommy groaned in frustration.

"Just let me-!"

"Not until you start talking."

"About what?!" He was hysterical now.

"How you feel, what you want to do, what you want me to do. Anything, Tommy. Talk to me, please, let me hear you, angel."

Tommy took in a shaky breath and lowered his hands from his face. Still not opening his eyes, he just needed his hands to balance on Wilbur's chest. With a heavy exhale, he started talking.

"I feel... I feel humiliated by my boyfriend. You're making me do this and it's so awkward. I don't even know where to start other than- than the fact that I'm so incredibly horny right now. Why does it turn me on when you humiliate me?!"

"Because you're my filthy little boy, aren't you? You just love taking whatever I give you."

"I'd really prefer it if you actually gave me something right about now."

"Keep going."

Another groan as Wilbur's hands finally left Tommy's hips and he was allowed to move. His eyes flew open as he ground down on Wilbur's thigh and oh, the relief. "Fine, fine, fuck... you sound hot. And you look hot and you feel hot. And I really like how you make me feel... with your hands and your d-dick and stuff like that. I like it when you talk, I much prefer it when you do all the talking and I have to just lie there and take it."

"I know you do, baby, but you look hot on top. You can take what you need, can't you? You can be my good boy."

"I can be your good boy, I can, I can. I am, right?"

"Keep talking, Toms."

"Fuck, you're killing me! I want you to fuck me- I need you to fuck me so bad! There's no one else who can fuck me as good as you can, as hard, as deep. You make me see fucking stars, Will! I need you to pound me until I can only remember your name, until you're sure I belong to you and you only."

Wilbur smirked, his hand travelling up Tommy's torso, his chest, until it reached his face. He he grabbed the boy's chin and tilted it down, making him look Wilbur in the eye. Those dark eyes that indicated that the soft Wilbur from minutes ago was now gone. "Is that what you like, baby? You want to be owned?"

Tommy whined and nodded, his eyes glossed over and zeroed in on Wilbur. Those eyes, that smirk, the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips before biting them- hey that's my job!

The sharp sound of a slap sounded through the room and Tommy's face jerked ever so slightly to the right as the hit landed on his jaw. Not painful, just a little stinging. Nothing more than a reminder: remember who's in charge right now, and never forget it.

"If you want to be owned, baby, then you better start begging. Let me hear exactly how you want to be owned, just how much you need it."

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I feel like we don’t talk enough about the potential of incest in apocalypse settings. No morals or taboos anymore, just the need to be close and lose themselves in one another??? Pls tell me you see the vision

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me finding out my mutual is one inch taller than me

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Can I DM u? I can show my tombur art hehehe

yes wtf !!! show me show me

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Yaaaay! I'm glad you think it's perfect <3

I can write more of them do u want me to? I actually liked this AU so much I somehow wrote two of my favorite AUs for you haha

-Mystery

yes absolutely id love to read more!!!

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Moore Arginnit • Argbur headcanons pleaseeee

sorry this took so long to respond to but! here's a little idea i had for them, warning for descriptions of gore, grooming (not explicitly sexually but its implied in my mind) violence against women, and also brief mention of throwing up

W1lbvr absolutely grooms T0mmy, he starts making him watch violent media, it starts fairly innocent with just wanting to show T0mmy some horror movies, but T0mmy complains and says he doesn't like scary stuff, and gore freaks him out, hell he can't even play Happy Wheels without squirming. But W1lbvr assures him it won't be that bad, he starts off slow, shitty slasher movies with bad cgi. T0mmy eventually gets more used to their horror movie nights, and W1ll starts ramping them up until T0mmy is cuddled up against him watching Midsommar, but W1lbvr notices he starts squeezing his eyes shut. He pauses the movie, and puts on his best dejected voice. "You know if you hate the movie so much we can just stop. It's probably weird that we hang out so often anyway, you probably think I'm such a creep." W1lbvr guilts him. T0mmy begs W1lbvr to stay and promises he won't close his eyes anymore, he'll watch the whole thing.W1lbvr sighs and reluctantly agrees, throwing in another few comments about how pathetic it is that T0mmy is his only friend, but T0mmy reassures him it's ok, he's not a creep or a loser, and that T0mmy loves hanging out with him. W1lbvr spends the rest of the movie sneaking glances at T0mmy's face for the more gruesome scenes, barely concealing his excitement when he sees tears welling up in T0mmy's pretty blue eyes. After the film T0mmy says he needs to piss but W1lbvr hears him puking in the bathroom.

W1lbvr only ramps it up after this, moving from horror movies to true crime documentaries, to uncensored bodycam videos, and eventually it becomes a common occurrence for their 'movie nights' to mostly consist of videos that would be right at home on LiveLeak. W1lbvr is so proud of T0mmy for being able to stomach W1lbvr's 'interests' now, he even discusses and jokes about the videos with him. One day W1lbvr tells T0mmy that he's found an especially good video for them to watch. T0mmy asks what it is, and W1lbvr excitedly tells him it's some unreleased crime scene footage he managed to get his hands on, he says it's some crazed serial killer torturing and killing one of his victims. T0mmy agrees to watch it excitedly, and starts pandering W1ll about how he managed to find it, but W1lbvr just assures him 'I have my methods.'

This video feels different than the ones they usually watch, most of the time they're from security cameras or witnesses recording, but the angle of the camera pointed at a bloodied woman tied to a chair feels too intentional. Was this something the killer recorded himself? T0mmy thought that made sense, the police probably kept it as evidence, he did wonder how W1ll would have managed to get something like this though, maybe he had a mate who was a cop? T0mmy's suspicions were confirmed when the perpetrator came into frame, the way he toyed with the woman while she cried for help, dragging a bloody knife across her arms and chest, he was clearly performing for the camera. There was something weird about him though, T0mmy thought he looked almost, familiar. His heart dropped as the man in the video turned his face to the camera for a moment, and T0mmy knew that if he looked up at the man he was currently cuddled up against, he would see that same sadistic smile. T0mmy was frozen in place, eyes glued to the screen, too scared to say anything or even move a muscle. He didn't even notice that he was crying until W1lbvr said "Come on, don't be a baby. It's nothing you haven't seen before." T0mmy barely squeaks out a single word response. "Why?" W1lbvr just chuckles. "What, you've never been curious about how it feels? It's a rush like no other, I'll tell you that much."

i dont have the energy to continue this but basically w1lbvr grooms t0mmy into helping him kill people, is the idea