#I will be posting more bits here and there

[copperbadge]

Tomorrow I will have been in fandom for thirty years.

I can mark the anniversary very precisely because I know the name of the first fanfic I ever read, which is fortunately archived online along with the date it was posted, the same day I read it. I don't believe Usenet exists anymore and I've been here too long to believe that nothing ever disappears off the internet, so I know that archives are truly a gift to history.

I posted my first fanfic not that long after. It wasn't well-written but reading it today I can see that the narrative was sound. People said they liked it, which was kind given how extremely bad my grammar was. I was an awkward teenager with undiagnosed ADHD and praise was rare for me, but when I wrote fanfic someone always said something kind about it. Eventually a few of them took me under their wing and explained things like "where quotation marks go" and "paragraph breaks". Commas, I fear, are a lost cause even today, but they tried, bless them.

I thought about doing something big to commemorate the anniversary, but I couldn't really think what I might do and the world right now is pretty exhausting. I'm forty five and I'm tired. But imagine how much more exhausting the world would be without fandom -- how much emptier my life would be without my friends, this community, the writing I do, the art and beauty fandom exposes me to. So for now I'm just meditating on that a bit -- the richness of the experience, the gifts I've been fortunate to receive, the lessons I've been fortunate (if sometimes reluctant) to learn.

In another thirty years I'll be seventy five, if I live so long. Thirty years ago we didn't in any meaningful sense have digital cameras, let alone cellphones or smartphones, social media, streaming television, GPS. I did a report on the science of cloning for my high school biology class (on the suggestion of a fellow fan) a year before Dolly was cloned. I wrote my first fanfic using a computer running Windows version 3.1. I wrote it in Notepad, still a constant companion.

I hope I live to seventy five. As tired as I am, I'm looking forward to seeing where the next thirty years will take us.

I hope Notepad will still be there.

[spicymancer]

Somethin I've noticed about your designs is that you've got a fair number of big boys (large, muscular, chunky etc.) but most of your female characters tend to stay pretty thin and lithe, with the biggest they get being kinda muscular.

Do you have any intention of adding some big girls to your cast?

I have a few! Though you're right, the percentage disparity is pretty telling.

To be honest, it's absolutely a weakness of my character design sensibilities, and I'm doing my best to improve. I really should draw more varied body types.

To look inward for a moment, I suspect that I'm experiencing a bit of a brain poison feedback loop. Drawing is, on one level, a leisure activity I do to have fun, and on another level a Job that do for Money. Both having fun and making money are important for surviving in the Capitalist Hellscape we all occupy.

When it comes to leisure, I obviously tend to draw inside of my comfort zone. I learned to draw by mimicking artists that I admired growing up and comic/manga art has historically not been great about body diversity. This then reinforces the feedback loop of mostly drawing one kind of face or body type. (in this case: cute anime girls) A common artistic bad-habit exemplified here in this Nozaki Kun comic.

(Monthly Girls Nozaki Kun is incredibly good and a little too real)

Combined with the fact that being less practiced at drawing outside of my comfort zone, makes these designs end up taking more work to match the quality bar I have set for my work, this in turn means that it's more of a struggle to build up those muscles and bring those characters to the point where I'm happy with their design, which then makes that sort of drawing feel discouragingly like Work. Even if it's work that's worth doing (which it absolutely is)!

On the "monetary" side, I've built my audience on the characters I find easy to draw and so many of them expect/want me to draw more of that sort of thing. And having built an audience that desires that thing, they are often less engaged by things outside of that. Not to mention the economic strain of posts that do poorly will affect how much money I make in a given month.

This isn't limited to "bigger women" but a lot of MxM stuff I draw tends to do poorly in my algorithm, discouraging me from drawing more of it even when I want to! This phenomena is probably worst for folks on Youtube who are DEEPLY punished by the algorithm for daring to make videos outside of their established niche. ("You're a videogame content creator, how DARE you have an opinion on BOOKS")

This is all to say that I am grateful for you reaching out and expressing interest in seeing more variety and it's a good reminder to expand my artistic horizons a little more. Nothing is for everybody and there's definitely sections of my lovely audience who are underserved by these absences.

For more thoughts on this sort of discussion: there's some excellent TBskyen posts on this subject.

In addition I'd like to shout out artists like @jam-etc and @lillhappycloud who draw incredibly fantastic and appealing bodies of all kinds!

I hope you'll bear with me as I work to improve while probably still drawing a lot of my Usual Stuff. I'll now leave you with a relevant Princess Bride Quote.

Best Wishes.

[pixelguzzler]

If you’re fine with it, do you mind showing us your oldest hybrid pixel art?

Absolutely! I thought for a bit that it was my first post here—"you said you'd be here thirty minutes ago"—but it's actually this one. This one was a lot more experimental for me, I actually didn't post it as widely as I do most of my art now. There's a lot that's certainly different about it than how I go about art now, I've made a lot of progress and changes in the last three months since I made this. I settled in on a design for my sona, which included anatomy closer to my own (and more realistic), my eyebrow scar, my glasses, hair etc. Honestly I'm kind of shy about any art that's more than, like, two weeks old. I'm always trying to make art that's better than what I made last, always trying to learn new techniques and stuff, so two weeks from now what I'm making now will seem dated to me. Plus at this point I hadn't really settled on a style—not just like, pixel or mixed media art, but style of anatomy, expressions, hairstyles etc. My first sona piece was much more cartoonish. My second was more anime inspired. My current feels more "me". Closer to home.

[bloomiize]

perv/gooner!jake is gross and he's gotten even worse

READ PART ONE HERE (not needed but it adds context)

perv!jake finally asks for your instagram when you're paired up for a project. It’s not like he doesn’t already know it by heart. Not like he hasn’t jerked off to every single one of your posts. Not like he wasn’t drooling over that innocent little selfie you posted last night. He just wants you to know he exists now. And you happily exchange Instagrams with him like it’s nothing.

perv!jake tells his roommate everything. He asks for advice on how to get closer to you, more specifically, how he could get his dick wet.

"She sounds hot. If you ever wanna recreate that hentai scene, let me know." Jake and his roommate have always joked around about sex, but this time it felt real. Too real. His dick is already begging to be touched at the thought of fucking you, he doesn't mind if he isn't the only one.

perv!jake made an effort to get to know you. Your favourite colour, the way you like your coffee, the songs you hum when you're zoning out. He also knows how you always tug your skirt down when you think it’s ridden up too high, not high enough in his opinion. How you're so naive to just bend over without thinking, right in front of him. He knows you prefer lacy panties over thongs, soft and girly, the kind he imagines peeling off you with his teeth. He’s memorized you. Every inch. Every habit. Every sound you make.

perv!jake likes how close you two are now. You always invite him over to study, to work on the project like good classmates. And yeah, maybe he’s looked through your drawers when you’re in the kitchen. Maybe he’s taken a not-so-innocent glance at your laundry basket, eyes locked on the crumpled pair of panties sitting right on top.

He’s thought about it.

Pocketing a bra, a pair of panties, hell—even a sock. Just something. Anything that smells like you. Feels like you. Something he can wrap around his fist while he jerks off to the thought of your soft little voice saying his name.

It’s disgusting. He knows that. Still doesn’t stop him.

perv!jake can never make it halfway through the door without his dick twitching. Can you really blame him, though? You’re always wearing a tiny tank top, no bra, and he can see everything. Your shorts, if you can even call them that, barely cover your ass, riding up with every step you take. Jake nearly cums in his pants right then and there.

perv!jake helps you solve a complicated problem, and you light up like he’s the smartest boy in the world. As a sign of your appreciation, you hug him, tight, soft, your tits pressing right up against his chest like it's nothing.

And he moans.

Quiet. Slips out before he can even think. You don’t seem to notice. You just keep smiling, thanking him like you can't feel something hard pressed against you. His dick’s already leaking, he can feel it.

He clears his throat, cheeks red. “I- uh, I’m not really feeling the best. I think I’m gonna head out early.”

You pout, sweet and worried, and offer to get him some water, maybe let him lie down, hoping he'll stay a bit longer. But he’s already opening the door.

Because he needs to get home. Now. He’s seconds from cumming in his pants, and he knows once he’s alone he’s gonna jerk it to the feeling of your tits against him—again and again until he’s lightheaded and shaking.

gooner!jake cant stop thinking about you, or more specifically, your tits. Its hard not to when they're so perfect. Soft, warm, and pushed against him when you hugged. He swears you did it on purpose, not that he minds. He can't stop fucking the panties he took from your apartment a few days ago when you had him over, surely you didn't notice they went missing. They're dirty and sticky from his fluids but he can't stop, he wont stop. Jake's not proud of it but this is the closest he's getting to fucking your perfect pussy.

gooner!jake got a call from you in the middle of edging himself for the third time tonight.

"Hey! Did you make it home okay? You left in a hurry and you said you weren't feeling well..." Your voice rings through his head. He's gripping his dick tighter now, still moving his hand up and down. He can't just cum immediently to the sound of your voice, that would be so embarrassing. He has to last longer for you.

"Y-yeah I made it home fine. T-thanks" Jake's holding back moans. It's disgusting how even when he's on the phone he won't stop. He cock is throbbing in agony, he's been edging himself non stop and he so desperately wants to cum, to feel you, to fill you up.

"You don't sound sound okay Jakey, you should've just stayed. I would've taken care of you." You say it so innocently that Jake loses it. He lets out a groan and thrusts his hips violently into his hand. Jake knows your panties are ruined by him but it doesn't stop him from shoving it into his mouth, pretending he's tasting your sweet cunt against his dirty tongue

How could you just say that so casually? Calling him Jakey? Saying you would've taken care of him?

You have no idea what you do to him.

"f-f-fuck y/n. I want you so fucking b-bad." It slips out of Jake's mouth before he realizes it.

"Walking around with those t-tiny shorts. I should've just be-bent you over." His brain is practically gone at this point, all he cares about is cumming. His eyes are rolling to the back of his head while his hand moves furiously. He's moaning loudly enough that you could hear him through the phone. He doesn't care anymore; he wants to be gross for you, if you'd let him.

"I'm go-gonna cum, fu-fuck!" His hips sputtered into his fist and thick, hot ropes of cum sprayed all over his phone. He's oversentive from edging himself nonstop, brain completely empty and dick still hard.

gooner!jake realizes that you were still on the phone, you didn't hang up. Before he can apologize, your small voice comes out,

a whimper.

Are you... are you touching yourself to him right now?

from bloomiize: tysm for reading the first part!! I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to ask for a part 2, let alone enjoy my writing 😭 I was super nervous posting >< but your support means everything!! lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist for part 3 !!

taglist (OMG I HAVE A TAGLIST?!?! if you commented on part 1 I tagged you, lmk if you wanna be removed! ^^)

@femmefqtqle @seobinghard @maysshade @dark-moon-light02 @jjongsies @nikismyprincesses @iaaespa @heeseungsbm @shy9-29

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── FIRST TIME ♥︎

...or, well, their first time.

♥︎ pairing .ᐟ nerd!rafe x pervert!reader

♥︎ summary .ᐟ rafe texts reader to come over while he’s drunk, and the next day something special happens.

♥︎ warnings .ᐟ fluff, smut, MDNI! loss of virginity (m), protected piv, praise wc: 1.9k

♥︎ author's note .ᐟ the last post on my 3k celebration <3 i hope y’all like it!!

PERVERT MASTERLIST ♥︎ 3K MASTERLIST

he's all over the place. and for some reason, it's so adorable.

your brows furrowed the moment your phone was buzzing and you saw that the contact 'my love♡' was calling you when you're usually the one doing the calling. but the moment you answered and heard the slur in rafe's voice, it was like a lightbulb lit up over your head.

even though it was one in the morning, you made the trek to the men's dormitory because he was threatening to come to the women's if you didn't, and you knew that if he tried coming here, he'd probably end up sleeping in a ditch on the side of the road.

and the moment he opened the door, he was grinning from ear to ear, his cheeks flushed pink, and his pupils blown wide as if he was looking at the most precious thing in the world.

"honeyyy!"

the boy who so rarely initiated affection threw his arms around you, making your brows nearly rise to your hairline. for once, you were the one getting flustered.

"babe, what-"

"i missed you so much." rafe interrupted you by letting out an exasperated sigh, squeezing you in his arms. "why weren't you here with me?" he looked down at you, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, his eyebrows knitted together.

"c'mon. c'mere." you urged, tugging rafe towards his neatly made bed, the six-foot boy stumbling onto it, letting out the most adorable laugh. you sat down on the edge of his bed as your boyfriend laid there, looking up at you with the sweetest smile on his lips. you pushed a strand of loose hair behind his ear, stroking his warm cheek, "y'know, i don't think i've seen you drunk before. it's adorable."

he hid his face into his sheets, but you brought your finger to tickle the side of his throat, forcing rafe to turn around and look up at you, "i was just playing some drinking games." he mumbled and fixed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, a small imprint left by them on his tanned nose.

you gasp dramatically, "you have friends?"

"shut up." he laughed, hiding his face once again, but now it was in your bare thigh, not having had time to change out of your pajama shorts before you made your way over to his dorm. "it was online friends, technically. but it still counts." the boy mumbled.

"you're such a loser." you say with a fond smile, "it might be my favorite thing about you."

your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you felt rafe's teeth around your thigh; he didn't bite, simply pretended to. you broke into a fit of giggles, throwing your head back as you stroked his hair, "what was that about?"

"'m not a loser." the boy whined, kicking his feet against the mattress.

"well, what if i say that you're my loser? that any better?"

"a bit." rafe sighed, his hot breath fanning against your bare skin, his warm lips pressing a small kiss on your thigh before he turned his head to look up at you, his brows furrowed, the boy clearly deep in thought. "what are you thinking about, rafe?"

"does it ever bother you that... i'm not really experienced."

you scoffed, shaking your head, "where's this coming from?"

"you're... clearly more experienced than i am-"

"are you calling me a slut?" you ask, feigning offense as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. rafe's eyes widened, and the boy sat up in bed, stammering. "n-no, of course not, i'd never-"

you interrupted his upcoming rant by bringing your lips to rafe's, your hand around his throat, squeezing only slightly, but even that was enough to make him let out a gasp of a breath against your lips.

as you pulled away from the kiss, you left another quick peck on his lips, the boy looking at you in a half-lidded daze through his long lashes.

"the answer is no. i don't give a fuck about that." you pushed rafe down so he was laying on the bed, making him let out a surprised yelp. you took off his glasses and placed them neatly on the nightstand and made yourself comfortable next to him, nuzzling into his chest, drawing small patterns on his chest through his band t-shirt, "sleep. silly."

"mmpf… alright…" rafe mumbled, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head as he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. it wasn't long until your boyfriend started to drift off to sleep, but the last words the boy heard were whispered to him by a familiar voice…

"i'll just have to make sure to teach you."

you wake up to the feeling of slight stubble running down your neck, making you smile as your eyes flutter open, finding your boyfriend kissing down your neck, "what are you doing?" you ask, your voice slightly husky from having just woken up.

"i think i'm ready." rafe mumbled against your skin, his hand trailing down to the waistband of your shorts. you instantly knew what he meant; hand- and mouth stuff always felt nice but whenever you saw your boyfriend's dick, you couldn't help but wish that you could feel him stretch you out, to feel the pretty, pink head of his cock kissing your cervix...

"are you sure you're not still drunk?" you teased as you watched rafe tug your shorts down your soft legs, throwing them to the side.

"no." rafe mumbled against your skin in his rough morning voice, nipping at your neck, "but as a half-sober man, i definitely consent to this."

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head, before grabbing his shoulders and rolling him down to the mattress and straddling him, switching positions so he was underneath you. "you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this..." you purr, running your manicured nails down his bare chest.

reaching for the nightstand, you pull the drawer open, holding up a purple square of foil and raising your brows suggestively. "you come prepared." rafe snorted, his cock starting to harden underneath you, his hands resting on your hips.

"i have a whole box of these in my own room. i hid one here just in case." you grinned suggestively, grabbing the hem of your shirt and taking it off, throwing it onto the ground. rafe's eyes went wide, and the boy could feel his throat get dry as you revealed your bare chest to him.

"i... i don't think i can ever get used to this." he mumbled quietly, his hand slowly trailing up your waist, his thumb pressing against your pebbled nipple.

"what, getting to see boobs in real life and not on your two computer screens?" you giggled, watching as your boyfriend's cheeks reddened underneath you, a pout on his lips, but giving rafe a small peck on his lips was enough to make it go away. "you need help putting this on?" you asked, ripping the condom wrapper open with your teeth and grinning at him.

it had been so long since you'd actually had something other than fingers or plastic inside of you that feeling his warm cock stretching you was almost... new. you couldn't help but gasp into his mouth, your lips pressed against his, barely even kissing, your breaths mingling together.

"fuck..." rafe mumbled, the noise drowned out by your lips on his. you smiled, moving your hips up, swallowing a breathy sigh the boy underneath you let out. you pulled your lips further from his, looking down at him as you moved your hips over him, the boy's blue eyes glassy and blissed out.

"you look so cute under me." you moan as you sink yourself down on him again, your hand tangling in his hair, tugging on the sand-colored strands as you move on top of him, rafe's grip on your hips tightening. you tugged his head back by his hair, the prettiest whine leaving rafe's lips, making you smile as you brought your lips to his once again. "clit." you whispered, placing a featherlight peck on his lips, the boy looking up at you with a dazed expression that was the most adorable thing in the world. "clit, baby."

rafe's eyes widened slightly, making you chuckle, before his hand moved closer to your pussy, your wet heat clenching around him as rafe brought his thumb to draw small circles onto your clit, small gasps escaping your lips.

"good boy..." one of your hands travelled down the nape of his neck, now trailing over the short strands, rafe shiverring under you in a way that made your entire body vibrate.

"feels so good..." rafe mumbled, bringing his lips to your chest, giving your hard nipple the tiniest of licks, "fuck..." you threw your head back in pleasure. at that moment, it didn't matter to you that you'd slept with people before him, or that he hadn't; because nothing in your life had felt as fulfilling as this.

"i-i'm getting close..." rafe moaned, the vibrations against your nipple causing shivers to run down your spine, rafes hips bucking up into you as you picked up the pace of your own hips, bringing your lips down on his, kissing the boy.

"'s okay..." you breathed out, continuing to move on top of him, pulling back slightly so your nose was pressed against his, looking at his closed eyes with such fondness, "let go for me, baby."

"f-fuck... oh, fuck..." rafe groaned underneath you as you continued moving your hips, bringing your hand to rest over his between your legs, guiding him to press more urgent circles on your clit as you looked down at the blissed out face of your boyfriend, his mouth open wide.

you couldn't help yourself, feeling the pressure in your stomach release as you started clenching around him, another round of gasps leaving rafe's lips, his eyelids twitching as his lips screwed into an adorable smile.

it wasn't long until the two of you were side by side in the small bed in rafe's dorm, your manicured nails drawing little hearts on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, a small smile on your lips. you lifted your head up slightly, and your eyes flickered to his blue ones, glimmering due to the sunlight flooding in through the blinds, the boy looking down at you with a small smile. "what are you looking at?" he asked softly.

"you." you whispered, "hey, rafe?"

"what is it?" rafe stroked your hair, that adorable dimple showing up on his cheek, making you wanna poke it. and it all felt so perfect, all made you feel like you could go the rest of your life looking at that dimple, like you could go the rest of your life looking at no one but him.

"i love you."

rafe's eyes widened, his smile slightly fading before another one appeared, now one that didn't show his dimple, the boy clearing his throat before muttering out a response.

"that's... that's sweet. thank you."

[scrunggly]

One of you reblogged this post and, man—preach. So, at the risk of more greyscale throes of passion redundancy, here we go. To be honest, greyscale throes of passion is becoming my modus operandi atp.. I hope to finish a WIP or make a new rendered piece soon here. Been a bit busy lately. Stick around.

[calla-lily-flower]

I'm not usually one to make a callout blog, but I don't think it's right to be silent any longer. I'd also like to say that I have no problem with tracing so long as it's transformative enough that no one can tell it's traced.

However, this artist is steadily gaining popularity in the Bloodweave fandom and the more I think about it, the more uncomfortable I get with the fact that this artist is popular. Why? Because they're tracing stock images and still frames from films, and instead of acknowledging this, they're passing off this work as their own original ideas. I know the correct thing to do would be to notify this artist before I go public with this information, but based on my interactions with this artist, along seeing other people's interactions with this artist, I do not think this is appropriate. This artist has a lot of friends who are also quite popular in the Bloodweave community, which is why I'm doing this on a burner account and not my actual account.

A few words of advice: to the artist's friends, if you dismiss this as drama, I will assume that you have not read this piece in full. I would like to restate I do not take this post lightly. If this was a one time thing, I would ignore it. However, this is not a one time thing, and you are tarnishing your own work by hanging around this artist. To the artist: you cannot delete your work to hide, as I have already saved the pieces to the Internet Archive. The internet is forever, my love. To both the artist and their friends: my understanding is that there are tensions between you and some other members of the Bloodweave community. I am not associated or affiliated with those members. I am a third party who became concerned once I saw this first picture, and things escalated from there. Similar to the drama comment above, if you associate this with the people you have friction with, I'll assume you haven't read the post.

Without further ado, here we go.

The artist I'm referring to is calolily. I hate that I have to make this post, because I was a fan of their work for a long time. However, in March, calolily posted this image:

As a certified horse girl, this image threw me off. For those of you who don't get what I'm saying, the issue is with the bit: the metal thing that goes in a horse's mouth. On a horse, it goes in towards the middle of their mouth, behind their incisors (which are the teeth you can see when a horse opens their mouth) into their interdental space, which is basically a long stretch of gum that's in front of the horse's molars. A good fitting bit should not be uncomfortable for a horse. However, this is where calolily has it positioned:

Right in front of the horse's incisors. Ignoring that there's no way the bit would stay in the horse's mouth at that point, if the bit was there, that would be a very unhappy horse. That bottom part is where some (not all, as most reins should sit at the bit) reins would sit.

Despite that, I didn't think the image was traced at first. I know bridles can be hard to draw, so I ignored it. That is, until I was looking for references images for my own piece of cowboy artwork, and found this:

You don't see the similarities? That's all right, I'll help you:

Now I'll admit, at first I didn't get too freaked out by this. Horses are a bitch to draw, so I'm not going to blame someone if they need help getting them done. Was I a little annoyed that calolily didn't say that they traced? Sure, but I thought it was a one-off.

That is, until I saw this:

The left image is calolily's drawing of Gale from their professor AU. The right image is a still from the movie "We Don't Live Here Anymore." Once again, I'm providing a side by side alongside an overlay.

(I am so bad at overlays, but I hope you see the point I'm trying to make.)

It's one thing to copy a picture from a stock artist. It's a little scummy, yes. It's definitely copyright infringement, but people turn a blind eye to it if you're a hobbyist. Copying a still from a movie without crediting it? Only making light changes, like swapping out the watch for a wedding ring and adding a periodic table to the background? Not okay. That's someone else's art you're taking away from them.

But it's whatever, right? It's not like calolily's making money off this, right?

Right???

The left image is a print from calolily's Inprnt page. There's a sale on right now, so you can purchase prints range from $6 (regular $8) to $78.75 (regular $105). The right image is a bondage ad.

I'm not going to point out the similarities on this one. I'm sure you can see how the arms and hands are positioned in the same way, how the only change is making the picture more "Gale" like. I've never purchased calolily's work, but if I was interested in purchasing a commission from them, I'd be worried. Would I get an original piece or would I get a traced bondage ad? Who knows.

Maybe this is a recent development though. Maybe calolily got inundated with requests and, not wanting to let their fans down, decided to take some shortcuts to keep their fans happy.

Ha.

On April 19th, calolily posted an "art improvement" post. Perhaps the improved post was traced, but surely the before was--oh, it was traced too? Alright then. The worst part is that this tracing was not from a movie or one of those giant stock image sites or even an ad. This one was from an independent stock photographer named Rob Lang, and as far as I can tell, he hasn't been licensed out to another stock site. He's freelance.

Unless this drawing was made in the past week, I'm going to assume that tracing has been a long time thing with calolily.

I don't get it. If they'd hidden some of the minor details like the shirt folds and the finger positions, I don't think anyone would've noticed. Hell, I didn't notice until I realized there was something wrong with that horse drawing. And I have zero doubt there's more. What's the old saying? Once is a mistake, twice is a habit? Seems like calolily's been on this habit for a while then.

I know some of you are going to brush this off as this not mattering because it's just stock images or that everyone traces, but the thing is, do you trace as noticeably as this? I don't think you do. And these are all someone's hard work they're passing off as their own, even the bondage ad, even the stock images, and I don't think that's right.

Where do we go from here? I have answers for two different groups of people.

For calolily's friends: Don't defend them. All of you are artists yourselves and surely none of you would do anything this blatant. If you still want to associate with calolily, then hold them accountable. Make sure they don't do this again. If you want to stop associating with them, then explain why. Don't be unnecessarily cruel, but be honest. If you were duped alongside the rest of us, post screenshots and get captures of any images you suspect are traced (because I know there are more) before calolily deletes them.

For calolily: Don't delete. Like I said, the internet is forever. Don't lie either. I know your favorite excuse is that you were an animator so you can draw from reference really fast, but does that explain the same shirt folds? The same finger positions? It doesn't. Instead, I recommend you come clean about all the pictures you traced and provide either links or pictures of them. Apologize to your fans. Apologize to the people you've hurt, because you've hurt a lot of them. Strive to do better.

Don't be a James Somerton.

And know this: if you try and hide this, know that it'll keep coming back. I think it'd be better to come clean now, don't you?

[mahajio]

This is soooooo GOOOOOD!! Oh gosh, where do I even begin? Seriously! This is perfect! Every single panel is jam-packed with so much, like, what's the word? Like, you wanted to convey something here, and by golly you succeeded!

That first panel, with Laios facing away with that expression on his face… it's perfect. Falin may have forgiven her parents, but Laios still hasn't. I always thought that one post-canon extra where Laios and Falin talk to Marcille about their parents was super insightful and really made me want to see Laios reconcile with his old man and ma one day. This comic is exactly that and SOOOO MUCH MOOOREEE!! I am not crying. I am not crying. I am not crying. That tear? It isn't there. I don't have tear ducts, whaddiya talkin' about? Fuggedaboudid!

It's like… I love that Falin manages to convince Laios to at least see them. It's such a good moment. Like, after all that's happened, I feel at least part of why Laios agrees is because, like… how can he refuse Falin on this? One thing I also love aside from how nervous everybody looks, is that he is not happy to see his father at first, and only looks up when he says his name. OOooooh GOOOOSH, and the way father Touden cups Laios' face like that, finally seeing Laios all grown up—which, like, he hasn't seen him AT ALL since he was a kid! He never thought he'd see him like this… All grown up… Laios' retort made me sniffle, and his father's response straight up had me bawling. It is… so good. I also really appreciate what you did with Marcille and Kabru in the background. The both of them are tragically unable to reunite with their fathers, and for Kabru his biological mother, too. They didn't get to see them all grown up, and the timing on Marcille's tears as well as Kabru's expression make this work so magnificently... Uuugrrugugh, the way Laios seems to lighten up at least a little bit while, like, looking super hesitant to receive a gift, before laying his eyes on the ouppy killed me. I think that you struck gold by having the Touden parents gift their son an ouppy, given their whole history with dogs 'n' stuff.

I AM CRYING. THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUUUUL AND I AM RAMBLING AND PROBABLY OVERLOOKING SOME DETAILS, BUT ALSO THIS IS TOOOOO GOOOD FOR ME TO BE COHERENT ABOUT IT WHATSOEVEEEEEER!!!!! I am in shambles. I am in shambles. I was waiting 'til I could make a more coherent comment, but every single time I try, I go right back to barely coherent rambling. This is too poignant a comic for me to handle, I'm sorry.

Thank you so much for being such an incredible artist. This comic is perfect.

Let's try this again

[tsunodaradio]

the perfect match¹ ⛐ 𝐋𝐍𝟒

lando norris is convinced he’s unlovable. it’s your literal job to prove otherwise.

ꔮ starring: lando norris x professional matchmaker!reader. ꔮ social media au. ꔮ includes: romance, friendship. mentions of alcohol & food; cussing/profanity; suggestive jokes. lando nicknames reader ‘cupid’, intentional typos. sparked by a24's materialists. ꔮ commentary box: my love for @norrisradio knows no bounds :3 this will have a part two! 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Liked by user1, user2, and others yourusername   wedding number nine. nothing brings me more joy than seeing people get the happy ending they deserve. 💐 congratulations, anyataylorjoy & malcolmmcrae.

user1 always at the crime scene omfg user2 That camera!! Can we know what model it is anyataylorjoy gracias 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨   ♥️ Liked by creator   ⤷ user3 wait so is it true yourusername matchmake’d them?   ⤷ user4 anya PLSSS notice me user5 I could really use yourusername’s skills but her consultation fee… Let’s run it back a bit, baby

Liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon, and others yourusername   thank you for the warm welcome, williamsracing. an enjoyable first grand prix in blue. 💙 content soon.

user1 OKAY I SEE YOU user2 aren’t carlos and alex both in relationships 😭 what they need a matchmaker for user3 Can we get a spoiler what the content was for pleek   ⤷ williamsracing Team Torque E04 🤫 But you didn’t hear it from us       ⤷ user4 ADMIN!?!?!       ⤷ user5 the crossover i didn’t know i needed. user6 oomf plz tell us about the other drivers u’ve met 

“How Do I Matchmake For My Friends?” | Team Torque Ep. 4 | Australian GP

Liked by lando, oscarpiastri, and others mclaren   Some scenes from Shanghai 🇨🇳 #McLaren #F1 

user1 carlando i’ve missed U user2 This after the Team Torque episode is comedic. 😂 user3 i want alex in a way that is detrimental to feminism. williamsracing Found a match? 😜   ⤷ mclaren 🤷   ⤷ user4 ??? does this mean something   ⤷ user5 Williams x McLaren collab LFG user6 i heard lando gave alex and carlos SO much shit for the torque ep screamsss user7 Lando if you need a girlfriend I’m right here,,

yourusername posted a story.

lando replied: pleased to make your acquaintance 🤝

Liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and others lando  lookin for love 

user1 that caption is diabolical   ⤷ user2 Why look for love!! I’m right here!! user3 The first pic. I’m dizzyy 😵‍💫 user4 okay but props to your photographer. hotness. user5 does this have something to do with yourusername ?   ⤷ user6 RIGHTTT because of her recent IG story   ⤷ user7 is Lando one of her new clients?   ⤷ user8 or maybe it’s a new mclaren content thing   ⤷ user9 They’re both being very quiet about this. Lmao. user10 lando’s loverboy era [[INCOMING]]?!

Liked by yourusername, user1, and others f1gossipgirl   lando enjoyed his winter break with british snowboard champ charlotte moioli! moioli is the reining record-holder of the women's snowboard cross. was our mclaren driver getting lessons or finding love on the slopes? 🏂

Liked by yourusername, user1, and others prixtea   Monaco's sweetheart finds her prince? 🎨 NOR spent his weekend with renown artiste, Sylvie Auguste, at Festival des Arts de Monaco. Sources say the two spent much of the evening giggling over champagne. Should we be expecting a new WAG on the paddock come Suzuka?

Liked by quadrant, lando.jpeg, and others yourusername   what’s up, bullet?

user1 have the loveliest vacation, darling 🥢 user2 that first pic? gorjjj user3 Last slide 👀 user4 bring back sushi pls ! user5 am i too f1-pilled or is that last slide literally lando ⤷ user6 Now that you mention it…

Liked by georgerussell63, yukitsunoda0511, and others lando   whassup su…zuka! mega day at liberty walk hq with quadrant to launch our helmet/car combo. seeing all this up close and working with the legend that is libertywalkkato to build the lb-kaido works r32 skyline has been an honour. always love coming out to japan, but this definitely made it even more special.

user1 ok so they’re dating yourusername   ⤷ user2 “what’s up, bullet?” x “whassup suki” not slick AT ALL… monsterenergy Sheeeesh 🔥 user3 The vibe is immaculate >>> maxfewtrell 🔥🇯🇵   ⤷ user4 max, was yourusername in attendance?? Blink twice if yes   ♥️ Liked by maxfewtrell       ⤷ user5 DID MAX JUST CONFIRM WHAT 

yourusername posted a story.

[storiesaplenty]

Miscellaneous Masterlist

Part 1

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: Oral (m receiving) Cum swallowing. Reader is a bit naive due to a sheltered upbringing.

WC : 956

©️ storiesaplenty 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

"Come on now love. No need to be shy. Go on." I said to her as I ran my fingers through her hair.

I could feel how nervous she was as she kneeled before me.

She bit her lip as she most likely contemplated how she even ended up in this position.

The moment she moved in, I was drawn to her.

The eldest daughter of religious man and wife, who kept their daughters on a short leash.

Never once I have seen them spend any time with someone that isn't a member of the family.

But one day, oh one day she was alone.

I saw her walking along her family's property line, as the sun as just set.

"Hello there neighbour." I called out in a friendly tone, making her jump as she was not expecting anyone all the way out here.

Before she could even respond, I could hear her father's annoying voice call out her name, telling her to come back home.

She gave me a soft smile, like she was apologizing for being rude, as she never even got to introduce herself to me, but I already knew her name.

I knew everything about her after watching her for weeks now.

"May I ask what your name is? My name is Remmick."

She looked back over her shoulder, and then back at me, quickly telling me her name.

"Aaa, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

Her eyes went wide at me complimenting her, then muttering about how she must leave.

I waved goodbye as she ran back to her home, fighting ever urge I had not to chase after her and make her mine, but I knew if I waited, I would have her eating out of the palm of my hand.

And I did wait.

I went back to her property line every night, and there she was, waiting for me.

Each night she told me about herself and her family.

I told her bits and pieces about me, which slowly gained her trust, but she was still very naive about the world, due to her overprotective parents.

The first time I kissed her, she gasped, pulling back.

"What is the matter darlin'?"

"My momma said that kissing a man who I am not married too is a sin."

"Now, if it is so sinful, why do I want to keep kissing you?" I asked before kissing her again, this time deepening the kiss.

I laid us down in the tall grass, my body leaning over top of hers as we made out.

I pulled back, knowing she needed air. Her eyes were closed as I pulled my head away.

"Now, we don't have to do that again, but I sure do want too." Her eyes slowly opened as she nodded her head in agreement.

Each night, I pushed the the boundary with her just a little bit until this very moment.

Where I have her on her knees, her lips swollen with kisses, her eyes glazed over as she looked up at me as I pulled my cock out of my pants.

Her hands gripping my thighs as she watched me, never missing a moment.

"Now, just take the tip in your mouth and softly suck. No remember, no teeth love." If I could breathe, I would most likely be holding in my breath as I watched her slowly lean in and do as I say.

The moment her sweet lips, wrapped around the tip of my cock, I let out a low groan, wanting nothing more than to push her head down and fuck her face, but that time will come.

"You're doing so well for me." I cooed as I patted her cheek gently.

She tried to smile around my cock.

"Go on now, take me down your throat until you can't anymore. Take your time."

She took a deep breath and took another inch in her mouth, her eyes on me the whole time, as mine were on her, not wanting to miss a moment of this.

She went until she gagged, pulling her head back so my cock was no longer in her mouth.

"That's okay love, we will work on that." She gave me a confused look as I urged her to continue what she was doing.

I kept my noises low as she sucked me off, not wanting to draw any attention to the two of us or this game will be over and I was so close to finishing.

"Now, I am going to cum, and you are going to swallow it all." I warned her, not wanting to hold back any longer.

I knew by her confused look on her face that she had no idea what I was talking about.

That was until the first rope of my cum hit the back of her throat.

She wanted to pull away, but I just held her head there, moaning her name over and over again.

"Shit darlin' you did so well for me." I told her as I pulled my cock from her mouth.

She wiped her mouth with the hem of her dress. "What was that?"

Poor little thing, she really is sheltered from the world, so I told her.

"But, but." I placed my finger on her lips, shushing her.

"Now did you like that?"

She nodded her head, yes.

"We can do it again or we can do something else." I could smell her. She was turned on, and probably had no idea she even was.

"What?" She asked.

"You shall see tomorrow love."

Tomorrow, she will be mine in more ways than one.

part 2

[ghelullu]

Okay so Frankfurt skeletour ritual!!

I probably forgot a lot, because it WAS a lot. Tldr: fucking amazing. They're all so good. The long version is under the cut

The bass was on 90000, felt in your entire body

No Swiss (and no, papa didn't mention it at all)

Peacefieeeeeeeeeld 😭😭😭😭🤌🏽 it's SO so so so good live with the added synths

papa sounds absolutely fucking amazing

During spirit he lasciviously rubbed up his thigh while looking me into the eye and I perished

We got Faith again (instead of Pinnacle) and he said Dummkopf

He got rid of the teleprompter, which makes total sense - he wasn't looking at it ever because he's way too busy interacting with his crowd (aka killing us)

Majesty got replaced this time by CMLS (Swiss vocals were missed a lot here)

Germans were germanly clapping and he channeled his inner Terzo and gave me a tiny stamp of approval for clapping correctly (years of playing jazz on the saxophone finally paid off, my teacher would be so proud)

He thanked us for our patience after the post cmls change, very polite man

Rain is an excellent bass player and he's getting more and more sassy

At one point papa ran behind the stage and seemed to stumble over the drum stage thingy step, bless him

He wanted us to not be gentle but rough with him despite being new again, slut

No jacket for TFIAL, only the silky shirt, I died again

The mitre with the wings seemed more stable, I guess they fixed it to the mask or something

Holding eye contact with him when he bends over with the red light in his face during a Hell Satan is FINE

The backdrop Deflation worked mostly fine this time, only a bit got stuck on the edge. No close calls for any ghoulettes

Speaking of ghoulettes: at one point aurora and the new one joined dew at his side of the stage and it was very cute

Dew was hobbling around with his big boot, poor guy, but he did well!! Got a big shout out from papa before squammer

He also didn't seem to lose his pants as much, but jesus christ are they tailored to the crotch (not a complaint)

When umbra started no one visibly knew the song but me in the area and he looked into my eyes and, while starting singing, fixed his collar and I died yet again (if you know the song already, then you understand even more why)

With no Swiss there, new ghoulette was playing the cowbell

The guitar/keyboard bit in umbra is so incredibly sexy

He fucking ciriced Jesus (a cosplayer in a jesus costume, not their stage manager) at least it looked like that from where I was standing, please correct me if you were near there and I'm wrong. Also the sparkly mask is SO sparkly

Mummy dust. He did the Copia butt grab thing and stuck his tongue out (slut), choked himself with the ascot (slut) and for the thrusting bit put a leg on a box and went low for some very biblical hip movement (slut)

The mummy dust amount and coverage was... Not very good, mightve been bc of the odd shape of the venue (I think they usually have more cannons)

Bouncy papa in KTGG. Also his shirt rode all the way up, full stomach.

Made a not bad face at our singing participation esp during dathoml but we did fail the ch ch ch but badly, tbf

He seemed less smiley than in Manchester and what others described during the last few rituals. Not sure if that's bc of the ✨things✨ or because he's trying to keep himself from grinning the whole time (sometimes he squeezes his lips together in a way that looks like he's doing that), was more smiley during the encore though

He mentioned ghost. Like. As the name of the band. On stage??? I was shook bc I've never heard him do that in character!!?

For the anon who asked if cirrus does her sexy solo thing in monstrance clock: yes she does, everyone bow to the queen

After monstrance clock the Germans germaned again and shouted zugabe, zugabe, Which he pretended not to understand upon returning to the stage

"Do you think we are cheesy? Do you like cheese(y)?? (loud German cheer because we do love cheese) Then we are the right band for you, I give you Käse!!!"

Papa also said that he doesn't know much German, only a little bit "ungefähr" he always knows the most random words

Bouncy papa for Dance Macabre again. No wobble wobble though, sad.

Papa and phantom twirl!!!! Also papa twirling at the front of the stage and the behind the stage walking area

Squammer rocks always

Phantom is an absolutely amazing guitar player, it can't be said enough, and he's also becoming more and more of an entertainer too

One of rains picks bounced off my forehead and someone picked it up and kept it :((( (I didn't see it incoming bc of dude in front of me and his hat)

Other notes

Security was good (at least what I saw), especially ghosts own security crew is excellent, very fun and friendly, handing out water, joking around with fans, a+++ guys

The vip items are an insult there's no other words for this lmao

The org for leaving the venue was bad with a stream of people walking to their jackets crossing the stream of people leaving, it took forever

I had an amazing spot in the 3rd/4th row and everytime you make eye contact with Papa you die, it's like a superpower of his

Eye contact with the ghouls is extremely cool due to their mask making their eyes only barely visible

If you are wearing a big hat to a concert and don't take it off during the concert you're a fucking asshole and deserve to be punched in your face 5 times

The whole stage setup is still so cool. As far as I could tell the THE spotlight situation got mostly solved, at least I didn't encounter it (if you know you know). The lights from the big grucifix lighting rig are incredibly bright if they hit you in the face though, like I was so close to putting on my sunglasses at one point 😂but they're never on like this for long!

Edit: added thoughts that I forgot previously

He didn't miss the start of dathoml this time

Still doesn't know lyrics to faith and many other songs (I say lovingly, bc same)

They soundchecked nocturnal me (I didn't hear much and only realised it was that after someone posted this) and if they play this and I don't get any recordings of that I will die (according to twitter they also soundchecked depth of Satan's eyes!)

Phantom mvp, again.

Germans germaning vs the poor ghoulbangers lady; most of us FLEE when there's an interview person, but luckily there's always a Rampensau (affectionate) ready to save the rest of us

His vocals are so good, god.

Papa is really going through it during satanized, protecting his head and crouching down suffering on the stairs during the guitar solp

Peeeaaacefieeeeld

[bleuberries-and-video-games]

I actually can explain this because it's something that is familiar to me but they don't really get it and they are trying to get people who are less able to articulate my feelings to believe that they know how to articulate them

So to start, what is depicted here is a household living situation, very cozy, very nice, very modest. I actually used to go to my grandpa's house and that was the house he had, very well lived in, smelled like pine-sol, my grandma's house is a similar fashion, my family's old house is a similar fashion, what they're talking about is a very class specific sentiment, a house you can live in and make your own that is yours.

That is a very intelligent point to point out, to say that you don't understand what they are talking about, is to say that you don't understand the frustrations about not being able to own a home, things not being affordable, stuff falling into disrepair, etc etc etc. You and I both know however that those issues are not due to immigrants, they are not due to shipping jobs overseas, the stuff they are talking about and the stuff they are acknowledging has a very clear origin point and a very clear issue, it is tied to capitalism, but they are not, also very specifically and deliberately, pointing to capitalism saying it's capitalism.

They are saying that's something is missing, they are acknowledging an issue within capitalism, the inability to make and maintain a living in a comfortable situation. That is a frustration that is pretty Universal under capitalism. By not acknowledging capitalism and implying a vague weird "they" is taking it, these fucking monsters can tell the people who believe them who the problem is, and because they haven't specified that it is capitalism and capitalists, who are often aligned with people like Jack Posobiac, it can be anyone.

So this post, as simple and as stupid as it seems, is meant to make you think it is both innocuous and Incredibly dumb, when in actuality it is a very relatable, common frustration, articulated in such a way to Prime people to consume fascist propaganda. And note that I don't say vulnerable people, I just say people, because this propaganda can work on anybody if you say it right. Think of all of the parody memes that use this exact language to reaffirm leftist talking points, even though it's often times satire and funny, that propaganda is a reaffirmation of already sincerely held beliefs, even if it is done tongue in cheek. You may not sincerely believe in "Retvrn" Style rhetoric, but parroting it, showing what you Aspire towards while joking about it is a form of reciprocation of it.

Specifically also, this image is evoking living rooms of certain eras, oftentimes errors which people find to be nostalgic, down to the magnets on the refrigerators and the fact that there are these really cozy armchairs in front of what is assumably tvs. This is a very decadent, I would argue actually upscale living situation for a certain era, given the specific kind of armchair, the tables, the cleanliness, and the organization. If I visited a friend's house and it looked like this, I'd consider their living situation to be pretty good, even if it was a bit haphazard. My house never looked like this, my mom was a teacher and my dad was an electrician for a long time, so we kind of were a little more modest and within our means and so a lot of the stuff we had was out of fashion. A lot of the stuff that's here is in fashion, so it is not just a nostalgia, it is idyllic nostalgia.

Not only is it idyllic nostalgia, it is idyllic nostalgia, pointedly being declared as something taken from you, so you've primed somebody to think of the past, think of it fondly, you have then grabbed that person's attention, and said that somebody stole this nostalgia, this feeling, this idyllic past world. And jack, the guy who is posting this, knows who it is. If you follow him, he'll tell you it's immigrants, it's china, it's liberals and progressives, transgender mentally ill weirdos, gay people that they're calling pedophiles, trans people that they're calling pedophiles, random asexual artists that they're calling pedophiles.

All of these posts have points and because of the lack of media literacy in America, and in other places where this is happening because it's not just happening in America, all of these posts have points and reasons and you can't see them because you don't understand them. You don't understand them because you're not the demographic it's primed for number one, you don't understand them because we teach and interpret historical propaganda wrong, and you don't understand them because you only recognize your own propaganda which you are not immune to. You are immune to this kind of propaganda because you disagree with it, because it's said by a guy you don't like, rightfully so, he's awful. You're immune to this, you're not immune to your own, which actually might make you less literate to understand this.

The reason I understand it is because at one point in the past, I wasn't far from agreeing with it, which means I understood the fucking Bare Bones of it. I once followed David Icke, which is not a small thing to say by any means, and his propaganda is a very specific flavor, and it connected me with other kinds of even more bullshit propaganda that was similar to this.

I was once the prime demographic for this, frustrated teenager, nostalgic for a past that they had grown out of, because that's the thing. This idyllic Nostalgia is not for the 40, 50, 60-year-old man who had this and had children, at least not in the same way. It does affect him in a similar way. While the younger groups see this as a comfy and cozy and welcoming place, the older groups see this as a return to something that they once had that has been taken from them by capitalism.

I get all of us on this site are kind of in agreement about what the problem is and how to fix it, I'm almost certain we are, but like

The media literacy problem doesn't just make you incapable of like reading Classics and understanding them, it means you can't spot propaganda. It means that you see this and don't understand it, and other people see it and they do and fall right into its trap. The direct byproduct of anti-intellectualism and weirdly media illiterate Trends in society leads to both of the interactions in this post.

This specific person, this Twitter post, not getting it, and Jack posting this thing is a pretty good encapsulation of the issue we are facing today.

A bunch of angry people don't know what they're angry at, a bunch of very very specifically powerful people want people to be angry at other things besides capitalism.

Can't hang out in your great-uncle's den anymore. Because of woke

[kbsd]

WINNIX: in real life, on-screen, and in fandom

"Dad has this record of "People Will Say We're in Love." Reminds me of a couple I once knew, so there's that tricky smile on my lips and a wee bit of twinkle in my eye as I listen." — Dick Winters in a letter to DeEtta Almon

this video could not have been made without yna @evidenceof: i compiled all your wonderful posts, but every single historical photograph, letter, quote, and transcript you see (including the one above!) was scanned or collected by her. thank you for everything, and for providing inspiration and motivation to work on such an ambitious project!

more credits/sources under the cut ->

the style of this video was inspired in part by (and could never live up to) twelve years a clown and a new season by kira @remythologise. you do well-sourced fandom meta as comedy so well!

HISTORICAL DOCUMENTS CITED (in order of appearance; sourced by yna unless otherwise specified):

Letter to from Bob Gibson to Harry Welsh

Conversations with Major Dick Winters by Cole C. Kingseed (partially via @sheletlune here)

Easy Company Soldier: The Legendary Battles of a Sergeant from World War II's "Band of Brothers" by Don Malarkey, Bob Welch

Band of Brothers panel at the American Veterans Center Conference (2007)

From Toccoa to Europe: On the Ground with Easy Company from The National World War II Museum

Biggest Brother: The Life of Major Dick Winters by Larry Alexander

Letters from Dick Winters to DeEtta Almon

Band of Brothers show bible (via USAHEC)

Ron Livingston interviewed by Ross Owen for The Story So Far podcast (via @sidsledge here)

Letters from Lewis Nixon to Dick Winters

Mark Cowen's interview of Dick Winters

Dick Winters' eulogy for Lewis Nixon

Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife from The Gettysburg Museum of History [disputed]

Beyond Band of Brothers: The War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters by Dick Winters

Letter from Grace Nixon to Dick Winters

Letter from Dick Winters to Lewis Nixon

FAN POSTS FEATURED (in order of appearance):

Tom Hanks meme by @bleedingcoffee42

Gay people can never flirt normally by @4o4notf0und

Tags on this post (by @stopstopstopit) from @igotyoubabeheffron, @randlemartin, @mr-chatterboxs-column

Why is he looking at him lighting a cigarette like that by @sidsledge

Tags on this post (by @airborneinfantry) from @roedotjpg, @holdingforgeneralhugs, @airborneinfantry, @boogiesheep

This yaoi shit is life or death by @bleedingcoffee42

Yearning disease by @evidenceof

Fujo goggles by @sidleckie

I'd follow him to hell by @stopstopstopit

What are your thoughts on... by @balladofthe101st

Their souls are literally intertwined by @stopstopstopit

Harry Welsh art by @foxholebuttfinder

Live Harry reaction by @finalgirljesus

Addicted to chilling with gay guys by @ww2yaoi

He gave him chocolates by @sidsledge

Loving your best friend so much by @sidsledge

Happy VE Day by @evidenceof

Getting your shit rocked by @sidsledge

Tags on this post (by @searchingforacircuitbreaker) from @sleepy-hyperfixations, @siiiiideblooooog, @redhcad, @kazanskied, @hanniewinnix, @danopdf, @cock-guillotine

Fellas, is it gay by @luckyreds

Tank fanart by @andromeddog

Bastogne fanart by @roberttingle

He's the exception to everything by @runaeveena

The Inherent Homoeroticism of War Media by @oatflatwhite

Honey, come to bed by @ww2yaoi

Lake fanart by @andromeddog

The most romantic dialogue ever by @ww2yaoi

Like New Jersey by @lesbiandarvey

[woniedarlin]

Shared Custody

Pairing: Ex! Jungwon x reader

Synopsis: Breaking up with Jungwon was one thing. But agreeing to co-parent a dog afterward? That was how you ended up in the weirdest post-breakup situation ever. Because what kind of exes still see each other at precisely 10 a.m?

You broke up. You’re sure of it. So why does it feel like your relationship never ended? Just… got a schedule and a leash?

Author's note: Another fic has been sitting in the drafts for too long. I finally decided to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy it! Happy reading!

Warnings: This story contains equal parts fluff and angst, with a dash of unresolved feelings, awkward ex moments, and a dog that might steal the spotlight. Reader discretion is advised! 🐾

Permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy @firstclassjaylee @ijustwannareadstuff20

Here’s the thing no one tells you about breakups:

When you two bought a dog together while you were still dating, breaking up isn’t just about parting ways with a person. You get partial custody of an emotional support furball with no idea why mom and dad stopped living together. The breakup was mutual. There was no shouting, no ugly crying, no one storming out at 2 a.m. with a suitcase and a dramatic one-liner.

It was a quiet and tired conversation on the couch. Some nods. A few long silences. And Maeumi, curled up between you, unaware that his life was about to get complicated.

You probably should’ve fought over him. Or at least discussed like rational adults. Instead, you both just… didn’t let go. Now, you set schedules like divorced parents. Only with more awkward small talk and a lot of pretending it’s totally normal to see your ex every other day at exactly 10:00 a.m.

It started with meetups. Hand off the leash, say a polite hello, smile as if it doesn’t sting anymore. Then it became coffee afterwards. Then breakfast “because he looks hungry and I’m already here anyway.”

Then, last weekend, Maeumi ate an entire bag of chips and got sick all over Jungwon’s living room, which somehow led to you arguing about brand-name kibble.

“You were the one who said he needed variety!”

“Variety doesn’t mean junk food!”

“They were organic!”

“He threw up on my socks, (name).”

And you’re not proud of it, but you laughed. A little too hard. Then Jungwon laughed, and it felt like nothing had changed for a moment.

But everything had.

Now, you’re waiting for Jungwon in the usual meeting spot, Maeumi’s leash wrapped loosely around your wrist as he trots in excited little circles. Jungwon’s late. Not by much, just five minutes. Enough to make you wonder if he’s okay. Enough to make you check your phone. He shows up a minute later, hair a bit messy, holding two coffees. “Sorry,” he says. “I stopped by that place you like. The one with the stupid tiny straws.”

You take the cup without a word.

Maeumi barks, happy as ever, tail wagging because it was the best part of his week. Seeing his divorced parents together! ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა

“Did he eat?” Jungwon asks.

You replied. “Yeah. But he thinks spinning in a circle gets him more food now.”

Jungwon sighs. “You didn’t.”

You shrug. “It was funny. He almost knocked over my lamp trying it this morning.”

There was a slight pause before, “He seemed to miss you a lot when he was with me last week. A good thing he has spent with you these past few days.” Jungwon says, nudging Maeumi’s head.

You nod, eyes on your coffee cup. “I missed him too.”

You’re not sure which of them you’re talking about.

🍎

Maeumi planted his butt on the floor and refused to move. You tugged the leash gently. “Come on, it’s Dad’s turn.” Maeumi looked at you. Then looked at Jungwon. Then flopped onto his side. You sighed. “He’s being a brat again.”

Jungwon crouched beside you, holding out a treat from his pocket. “Maeumi, let’s not do this today.”

Maeumi sniffed the treat, stood up halfway, then turned around and pressed himself against your leg.

You and Jungwon exchanged a look.

“I think he’s made his choice,” you said.

“It’s not even a choice. It’s supposed to be my weekend.”

“You tell him that.”

Jungwon sighed and looked down at Maeumi, who was now rolling over, belly up, smug as ever. “You’re a traitor. You know that?”

Maeumi sneezed in response.

Eventually, after five minutes of bargaining and light bribery, Jungwon stepped inside your apartment to get him moving. One minute turned into five. Then ten. Now you were both sitting on the couch, a lukewarm mug of tea in his hands, Maeumi curled between you like a peace treaty in dog form. “You know,” you said, watching as Maeumi kicked his leg in his sleep, “he wasn’t like this when we first got him.”

“Nope,” Jungwon muttered. “He used to listen to me. Now he acts like he pays rent.”

“That’s your influence.”

He shot you a look. “My influence? You’re the one who started giving him tiny portions of your dinner because he’s a spoiled prince.”

You shrugged and grinned. “He deserves nice things.”

“He eats better than me.”

Jungwon glanced at you for too long, then looked away and sipped his tea.

You didn’t notice.

Well, yeah, you did, but you were pretending not to.

Jungwon leaned back a little. Then he looked toward the kitchen. And then he saw it. The mug. The one he bought for your birthday two years ago. You loved it to the point that you used it daily while you two were still dating. He nodded toward the cupboard. “Didn’t think you still had that.”

You glanced over. “Huh? Oh. Yeah.”

He didn’t say anything else, but his eyes stayed on it. That dumb, ceramic memory sitting there as if it had every right to exist in a post-breakup world.

You added, “It’s a good mug.”

Jungwon barely smiled. “Yeah. Real high quality.”

You didn’t reply.

He looked back at Maeumi, who was still fast asleep between you, snoring lightly. “I keep one of your spoons in my drawer,” Jungwon said suddenly.

Your head turned. “What?”

“You left it after that one trip. The one where we bought those instant noodles that tasted like cardboard.”

“Oh. Right.” You stared ahead. “That was a good weekend.”

“It rained.”

“I like rain.”

You both nodded and pretended the conversation didn’t sting a little.

Maeumi snored louder as if he were trying to cover the silence.

🍎

Your phone buzzed at 11:42 p.m.

You were half-asleep. Maeumi had gone home with Jungwon hours ago, but the apartment still felt…full.

You grabbed your phone.

Jungwon [11:42 PM]

Thanks for taking care of him this week. He seemed extra happy. When he saw you, his tail wagged about ten times per second.

You smiled without meaning to, your thumb hovering over the keyboard to send a quick "anytime" or maybe a "he missed you too."

But another message came in before you could type.

Jungwon [11:43 PM]

You’re still the easiest person to talk to.

You stared at the screen.

You didn’t know what to say. Or perhaps you did, and that was the problem.

So you… didn’t reply.

🍎

Jungwon sat on the curb's edge, nursing a canned coffee. Sunghoon was sipping from his drink, watching him spiral in silence. “I’m losing it,” Jungwon finally said. “She still knows how I take my coffee. Didn’t even ask.”

Sunghoon glanced over. “She made it the same way she used to? Back when you two were together?”

Jungwon nodded slowly. “Exactly like that.”

“And you’re upset because…?”

“I don’t know,” Jungwon shaked his head. “She laughs at my jokes the same way. She still says ‘bless you’ when I fake sneeze for attention. And today, I saw the mug I got for her birthday two years ago, sitting in her cupboard like it never left.”

“Maybe it’s just a good mug?” Sunghoon offered.

Jungwon stared at him. “That mug has a whale on it saying ‘whale you be mine.’ It wasn’t just a mug.”

Sunghoon choked on his drink and wiped his mouth. “Okay, yeah, that’s tragic.”

“And she still wears my hoodie,” Jungwon added. “She likes that hoodie.”

Sunghoon crossed his arms. “So, what’s the plan? Gonna ask for the hoodie back and confess your undying love in the same breath?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I thought I was over her. I thought we were fine being exes who raise a dog together.” Jungwon let out a long sigh and tilted his head back. “I don’t know when it started feeling like this again.”

Sunghoon crumpled his empty drink can and tossed it into the bin beside them. “You mean the part where you show up with her favorite foods, sit on her couch like you never left, and keep pretending Maeumi’s the only reason you’re still hanging around?”

Jungwon looked at Sunghoon. “…Okay, rude. But not wrong.”

“Exactly. Look, man.” Sunghoon turned to face him fully now. “You two broke up. Sure. But you’re still texting her late at night, still wearing the cologne she once said smelled nice, and still looking at her like she’s the only person in the room.”

Jungwon groaned. “She’s just being nice. She always was.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “No one’s that nice, bro. She has your hoodie. She made you pancakes last week. You said she cut the strawberries the way you like them.”

“She always cuts the ends-”

“Exactly.” Sunghoon gave him a look. “At this point, you’re not just co-parenting a dog. You’re toeing the line of a romcom reboot.” He added, “Seriously, who even does this? Shared custody over a dog? With your ex? This is the weirdest post-breakup dynamic I’ve ever seen.”

Jungwon didn’t even deny it. He muttered, “…Yeah, but it’s kind of working.”

Sunghoon nodded solemnly. “You’re doomed.”

Jungwon groaned. “I think I’m accidentally falling in love with her again.”

“No such thing as accidental. You just never stopped.”

🍎

Maeumi wasn’t himself. You noticed it the moment he refused his dinner. He moved slowly, dragging his paws across the floor, and his eyes looked distant. Something was off. He usually had a healthy appetite, but tonight, nothing. You knelt beside him, gently rubbing his back. “Hey, Maeumi, what’s going on?”

He let out a weak whimper. Panic rose in your chest. You didn’t know what was wrong but knew you needed help. You grabbed your phone without thinking.

Jungwon picked up almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” His voice was concerned, even though he wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Maeumi’s sick. He won’t eat, he’s not moving much… I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Don’t worry. I’m coming over.”

It didn’t take long for him to arrive, his face tense as he crouched down to Maeumi’s level. The dog barely acknowledged him, enough to make you both nervous. “We should take him to the vet,” Jungwon said after a moment.

You nodded, already on the phone, setting up an appointment. The drive was tense, your hand gripping the door handle while Jungwon kept one hand on the wheel, his eyes between you and Maeumi.

When you finally arrived at the clinic, it was quiet. You and Jungwon waited in the sterile, cold waiting room. Maeumi was lying on your lap, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow. You rubbed his head absentmindedly, trying to calm yourself. “He’s going to be okay,” Jungwon said quietly, glancing over at you.

You nodded but didn’t answer. He touched his hand lightly near yours as he reached for the water cup beside you, and for a fleeting second, you felt his warmth. You looked at him, but his gaze was somewhere else, not meeting yours.

For a brief moment, you wondered if he missed this. If he missed you. But before you could even entertain the thought, the door to the exam room opened, and the vet emerged, pulling your focus back to Maeumi. Jungwon stood up. “He’ll be fine,” he said.

And you weren’t sure what to make of it, but for the first time since your breakup, you couldn’t ignore how much it stung to see him so close yet still so distant.

🍎

By the time you and Jungwon returned from the vet, Maeumi was already dozing off on the couch, wrapped in an old blanket and looking much more himself. The panic had eased. You stood by the kitchen, hands on the counter, watching Jungwon kneel to check Maeumi. You glanced at the time. “It’s late. You should eat before you head back.”

Jungwon looked up. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I was gonna cook anyway,” you said, opening the fridge. “Don’t expect a five-course meal, though.”

“I never did,” he said, smiling as he joined you in the kitchen. “You still burn rice, don’t you?”

You gave him a light shove with your elbow. “That happened once. And the pot betrayed me.”

Then, he washed the vegetables while you stirred the soup. It was annoyingly comfortable.

By the time dinner was done, the table was set. Jungwon set down the last dish and glanced over at you. “This… feels like we never broke up,”

You froze. Then, you replied, “We never used to have this much garlic.”

He huffed a small laugh but didn’t push it. And for the rest of dinner, neither of you brought it up again.

🍎

The dishes were washed. The leftovers are packed. Maeumi, finally feeling a bit better, had claimed his usual spot at the foot of your couch, tail thumping gently as he dozed. You stood near the sink, drying your hands on a dish towel, when Jungwon spoke from behind you. “I didn’t just miss Maeumi, you know.”

“I miss…” He let out a soft breath. “I miss all of it.”

“Do you still think about us?” he asked.

The silence was deafening. You felt him watching your back, waiting. And if the room had stayed that quiet a second longer, you would’ve said something honest. But Maeumi barked as if he’d sensed the tension rising and decided to cut it clean. You both jumped slightly. You turned with a light laugh, avoiding his gaze. “I think someone needs his water refilled.”

Jungwon didn’t press. He nodded before crouching to check Maeumi’s bowl.

Neither of you said anything else.

But the question stayed.

🍎

It happens on a night that should’ve been uneventful. A regular handoff. Maeumi is snoozing on your carpet, belly full. Jungwon’s quiet tonight. You notice it right away, but you pretend not to. You handed over Maeumi’s leash, but he didn’t take it. “You still have my hoodie,” he says.

You glance up. “What?”

He gestures vaguely toward the coat rack. “The gray one. I saw it last week. You used to sleep in it.”

You shrug. “It’s comfortable.”

His jaw tightens, but he laughs a little. “Everything I gave you is ‘comfortable,’ huh?”

You don’t answer.

“I saw your story the other day,” he adds. “Looked like a date.”

Now, you furrow your eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Jungwon runs a hand through his hair. “Forget it.”

“No,” you say. “You brought it up. So say it.”

“It’s confusing. For one moment, we laughed as if nothing had changed. Then, in the next instant, I remember how you used to fall asleep on my chest or steal all the blankets.” His voice wavers for a moment, but he pushes on. “I just can’t tell if I’m the only one stuck in the past or you’re better at pretending.”

You hesitate, then quietly. “I wish I could say I moved on, but I haven't.”

Jungwon’s shoulders drop a little. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?”

He looks down. “Because you looked like you were doing okay. And I didn’t want to make it harder if you were healing.”

“I wasn’t okay,” you say softly. “I’m still not.”

Jungwon lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours. “Neither am I.”

“I miss you,” he says. “Not just Maeumi. Not just Saturday mornings. I miss… talking to you. I miss knowing how you’re doing without having to ask.”

You look away. “Then why are we doing this?” you whisper. “Why are we acting like we’re fine?”

He lets out a breath. “Because maybe we don’t know how to be anything else.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

He says, more gently this time, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start an argument.”

You shake your head. “You didn’t.”

He bends down and clips the leash onto Maeumi’s collar. The dog wags his tail, clueless, happy just to be loved by both of you. Jungwon straightens up but doesn’t turn to leave right away. He looks around your apartment. His eyes land briefly on the hoodie by the coat rack, then the familiar mug on your kitchen shelf.

“I still love you,” he says suddenly.

You freeze.

“I didn’t think I should say it. I didn’t want to make this harder. I thought… maybe it’d get easier if I stopped talking about it. But it didn’t.”

He’s not asking for anything. Not a hug. Not a kiss. Not to come back. He was standing there with his hand gently resting on Maeumi’s back because it kept him from breaking. “You laughed at one of my jokes last week,” he says softly. “And for a second, I forgot we weren’t together anymore. That’s how easy it is to fall back into you.”

You swallow hard. But he keeps going.

“I didn’t want to make you feel guilty. Or corner you. I just needed you to know. It wasn’t because I stopped feeling everything when we broke up. I was scared. And tired. And maybe I thought it’d hurt less if we ended it on our terms.”

He finally looks at you. “But it still hurts.”

Maeumi lets out a soft bark. Jungwon reaches down and scratches behind his ears; for a second, it’s just the sound of his hand brushing fur. Then he straightens again, but now you notice his eyes are a bit glassy. “I’ll take him tonight. I’ll text you tomorrow. If you need anything, or if… you want to talk more, I’m one call away.”

You nod. Slowly. You can’t get your voice to work. But your eyes say enough.

Jungwon opens the door and glances back just once. “Goodnight,” he says.

And then they’re gone.

🍎

Jungwon sits on the edge of his bed, hair slightly damp from a rushed shower. Maeumi is curled beside him, his head resting on his paw, and his eyes blinking up at him as if he understands more than a dog ever should. Jungwon takes a small breath and runs a hand through Maeumi’s fur. “You don’t have to look at me like that,” he mutters. “I didn’t yell.”

Maeumi blinks again.

“Okay,” Jungwon sighed, leaning back a little, “I maybe said too much.” He sighed. “I don’t know, Maeumi,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “She just looked at me like I was someone from a different life. That sucked.’’ Jungwon glances down and smiles sadly. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly. “Mommy and Daddy were just having a little disagreement.”

He lays back on the bed. “I’ll bring her back,” he whispers. “I swear, Maeumi. I’ll bring your mom back to me.”

Maeumi lets out a soft woof.

🍎

The rain had been pouring since morning. You didn’t expect anyone when the doorbell rang, especially not Jungwon. But there he was. Standing at your doorway, drenched from head to toe, Maeumi dripped beside him and looked more like a soggy mop than a dog. “Uh,” Jungwon offered sheepishly. “He refused to walk anywhere else.”

You said in disbelief. “You could’ve called.”

“I did. You didn’t answer.”

You step aside. “Come in before Maeumi gets mistaken for a wet sock.”

Towels came out. You wrapped one around Maeumi, rubbing his fur as he wagged his tail. Jungwon was quieter. You handed him a dry hoodie from your closet, which was his, actually. It still smelled like him, though it had sat folded for months.

He changed. You made tea. He sat across you on the couch, rubbing Maeumi’s ears absently. “I’ve been thinking,” Jungwon started, voice gentle. “We weren’t ready back then. But maybe now…”

You looked at him, guarded. “I’ve changed,” he continued. “You have too. And I don’t just mean getting better at feeding Maeumi actual food.” You smiled a little. He took it as permission. “I guess I want to say I’m sorry. For everything I didn’t say before. For not knowing how to stay when things got hard.”

You met his gaze. “I’m sorry, too. For pushing you away when I didn’t know what I needed.”

“Do you think Maeumi would be okay if we lived together again?” Jungwon asked suddenly, eyes hopeful.

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking for the dog or for you?”

A sheepish smile curved his lips. “Both.”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you leaned into his shoulder, your head resting there like it used to. “Maybe we could try again,” you said quietly. “For real this time.”

Jungwon’s hand found yours.

Maeumi snored at your feet.

And outside, the rain kept falling, washing everything clean.

[hivemuthur]

I’ve had a thought. You believe Viktor to be Experienced, right? What would his first time have looked like? This could be a request if you wanna write a one shot. Or just like share your thoughts. I’d be intrigued to see what you come up with if you wrote it out tho 🤔

You do like to throw me curveballs (I love that, thank you). Here is some virgin!Viktor take, he's not exactly super freaky but take it as the origin of Freaktor :')

Humble as I Go

viktorxfem!reader explicit! first time, a bit awkward, a bit sweet. Both Viktor and Reader are virgins! There is no specified age for the sake of legalities, but you can imagine them both young.

word count: 3,8K

author’s note: ok, so I've seen some angry post about condemnation of virgins through HC-ing Viktor as a non-virgin, and what I'm saying here is that I disagree with his infantilization in most virgin!Viktor fics. I was a late bloomer so I am literally nobody to tell people when it's cool to start having sex, it's absolutely irrelevant to your maturity. But having him unable to add 2+2 or being completely oblivious to sex in his 30s IS ableist. For the most part, disabled people know their bodies pretty well because they have to, and I can imagine Viktor being pretty well-read as well, him being curious about life. So no, it's not a punch toward people who didn't have sex yet, it's a punch toward those who see a disabled guy and think 'let's make him pathetic.' @rennethen beta read, thank you as usual! Happy (sort of) Freakday :')

—

Viktor stares at his thighs intently, grateful for a moment to regroup. The fabric around the knees is bulging and thinned out, threads threatening to pull—if not today, then tomorrow, or the day after. It’s also slightly damp, soft beneath his fingers where he’s wiped his sweaty palms while waiting for you to come back from the bathroom.

He’s afraid to get up from where you sat him on the bed—he’d slipped in the puddle that gathered on the pavement in The Fissures on your way home, after you’d muttered that your parents were away. And your house is nice. It’s warm and cozy. It’s full of love, with plenty of things that don’t match finding a place beside one another. A wet stain from his ass on your bedsheets wouldn’t bode well for what you’re both so excited for—and frightened of—all the same.

The door creaks, and then your head peeks out. A ghost of a smile lingers on your mouth, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear—and Viktor, oh, he can’t help but smile too. He actually laughs, breathy, nervous and quiet, but welcomes the weight of you settling beside him on the edge of the bed, as if your presence alone repels every doubt.

You don’t say anything at first. Just lean into his side, shoulder brushing his, your palm resting between you. His fingers twitch beneath it. “You okay?” you ask eventually, soft.

Viktor nods once. Then again, slower. “I think so.” A beat. “My hands are sweaty.”

You smile into your knees, arms looping around them. “Mine too.”

That gets a laugh out of both of you, hushed and crackling with nerves. You untangle your limbs first and stretch one leg over the edge of the bed, your knee knocking gently into his. His trousers shift as he moves to look at you more fully, and the suspenders tug awkwardly with the motion.

“I like these,” you say, your finger sliding under one of the straps and letting it snap back lightly against his chest.

“They’re necessary,” he replies. “My trousers are too big. They used to be my father’s.”

You hum like that makes perfect sense, which it does. His whole frame still has the look of someone who hasn’t quite finished growing into himself—elbows and knees a bit too sharp, shoulders a little unsure of their breadth. You reach out and brush his hair back from his forehead, and this time he doesn’t flinch, just watches you with wide, liquid eyes.

“I keep thinking I’ll mess this up somehow,” you admit, quiet.

“You won’t,” he says quickly. “Even if we do it all wrong, it’s still with you.”

That makes your throat ache. You kiss him—small and soft, mouths barely moving, just the warmth of it. When you pull back, Viktor’s eyes are closed, but he’s smiling. Your hands drift to the buttons of his shirt, but hesitate, hovering. “May I?”

He nods. “Yes. Please.”

You undo them slowly. One, then another. His skin is pale where it’s usually hidden, collarbones delicate, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. When you glance up, his eyes are open again, fixed on your face like you’re the most intricate, important thing he’s ever seen.

His hands fumble next, trying to return the favour, but they shake a little and get caught in the hem of your sweater. You both laugh again, leaning forehead to forehead, nerves zinging in the air between you like lightning trapped in glass.

“Wait,” he says, reaching down awkwardly, and peels off his socks like they’ve betrayed him. “I don’t want to wear these for this.”

“They’re not that bad,” you say, but you’re already tugging off your own to match. “There. Even.”

The grin he gives you is crooked and overwhelmed, but he’s glowing with it. There’s no hurry, not really. Just a shared understanding that you’re moving toward something neither of you has ever done, and yet it feels inevitable in the best way.

Your hands find his suspenders and slide them down the slope of his shoulders. The tension in the elastic gives a soft snap, and he flinches, then laughs under his breath. He looks smaller without them, somehow—softer. Less held together.

His trousers sit loose on his hips now, waistband gaping far away from skin and it looks like a second Viktor could fit in them easily. When your fingers find the button, he nods, barely a breath. You undo it, and the fabric slides down, pooling around his ankles with a sigh. You both blink at the sound, then laugh again, quietly—he shrugs, self-conscious.

“See?” he mutters.

“Thank gods for those, huh?” you say, pulling at one of the suspender straps, and Viktor chuckles, air leaving his nose loudly as if he was holding it until now.

You guide him out of the trousers, then pause, eyeing the brace along his leg. “Would you like to—?”

He follows your gaze, then nods, sitting back to unbuckle the straps. “It’s easier like this,” he murmurs, focused on the clasps. “I don’t usually take it off unless I have to.”

“You don’t have to,” you say gently.

“I want to.” His voice is soft, but certain.

You watch as he undoes the last strap and lifts the brace carefully aside. Without it, his leg looks thinner, a little tense—but you only touch his knee, light and reassuring, and his shoulders drop. You lean in to kiss his cheek, and he smiles, just barely.

Then you reach for the hem of his shirt, and he lifts his arms to let you pull it off. It takes a moment to work it over his head—his hair sticks up after, and you smooth it back without thinking. He’s left in his undershirt, but the skin you can see is pale in the light, slender and unevenly freckled. When you run your palms down his arms, he inhales sharply, but doesn’t stop you.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, and he ducks his head like he doesn’t believe it, but his smile flickers small and bright.

“You’re not supposed to say that first,” he says. “I was going to say it.”

“You still can.”

He does. Quietly, but steady. “You’re beautiful.”

Then he touches your wrist, tentative, and waits. You nod.

He starts with your sweater, careful with the buttons even though his hands are shaking. You help him with the last one, and then the shirt beneath. His knuckles brush your ribs as he works the fabric off your shoulders. His gaze lingers—not just on your chest, but on all of you, awed.

His fingers trace the waistband of your trousers next, and he looks up again. “Alright?” he asks.

You hum an answer, too full to speak. The zip comes down smoothly. He tugs, slow and a little awkward, and you lift your hips so the fabric can slide off easier. When he gets them halfway down your legs, he stills for a second. Watching your thighs, your knees, your bare skin, as if it’s something rare and precious.

When he finally gets them off, you’re both just… there. Sitting in your underwear, knees bumping, hearts thudding so hard it’s almost funny. You reach for the duvet, tugging it over both of you. Not to hide—just to be close. Wrapped together in the warmth of this.

And then, when you’re ready, you reach again. Gentle. Curious.

“Hi,” you say, and smile.

“Hi,” he echoes, and his gaze never leaves yours.

The covers rest around your hips, pooling softly between you. Viktor’s knees knock against yours again, faint and accidental. Or maybe not. Your fingers graze his, and he turns his palm up, opening it for you.

“I’ve never done this before,” you admit, voice hushed. “Obviously.”

“Me neither.” He huffs a laugh, awkward and fond. “You can probably tell.”

You nudge your shoulder into his. “It’s okay. I think… I’d be scared with anyone else.”

His eyes flicker down, then back up, bright and unblinking. “You’re not scared now?”

You shake your head. “Not with you.”

He exhales like that means the world. Slowly, carefully, he brings a hand to your cheek, thumb barely brushing the skin. “Can I kiss you again?”

You nod, may times, and this kiss is different—shy at first, but it lingers, warmer, his mouth parting when yours does. His hand slides behind your neck. Yours settle over his ribs, thin beneath your palms. The duvet shifts with your closeness, and you both feel it: your bodies pressed together, clothed in breath and nerves.

It changes then—from careful lips to Viktor’s mouth opening a little more, and yours following. The world narrows to the slick, tentative press of tongues. It’s warm, unfamiliar, and clumsy in a way that makes you both stifle little laughs between kisses. His breath tastes like mint and you’re curious when he’s managed to refresh. Yours is all heat. A soft sound slips out of him when you suck gently on his lower lip, and he mirrors it, hesitant but eager.

The sounds are quiet, wet, a shared secret. A rhythm begins to build—just earnest, as if you're both learning at the same pace. His hand slides from the back of your neck to your waist, pulling you in, every touch like a plea for permission. You tip, gently, and both of you laugh as you fall sideways, mouths still pressed together.

Viktor braces himself on one elbow, looking down at you. His curls are a mess. His chest rises and falls in quick little stutters, and your fingers find the hem of his undershirt, then slip beneath. His skin is warm, smooth, and he twitches when you drag your hand along his ribs.

Your legs shift, one sliding against his. The covers slip lower. His free hand trails up your side. Hesitant, at first, but when he finds the curve of your breast and cups it, you gasp—soft and startled and entirely involuntary.

He freezes, then breathes, and you watch his throat move as he murmurs, “I like that sound.”

“Well,” you blush and swallow loudly. “I liked… that.”

His thumb brushes over your nipple through the thin fabric, and the breath that leaves you this time is closer to a moan. His eyes flick to your mouth and linger. Then, shyly, he bends to kiss you again.

You let your fingers drift lower, and wrap them around the hem of his undershirt. He breaks the kiss with a gasp, and lifts his arms in wordless permission. The fabric peels away easily, and when it's off, you pause to look—Viktor’s chest is narrow, ribs visible under pale skin. One of your hands grazes his sternum, and he makes a small, helpless sound in response.

“You’re…” you begin, but it gets lost in a breath. “Beautiful.” His ears go red, and he lowers his head, but he’s smiling.

He mirrors your movement, fingertips brushing the strap of your bra, a question in his eyes. You nod, and reach back to unhook it yourself. When it slips off, Viktor stares like he’s been handed something sacred. His hands hover before he rests one gently against your side, the other cupping you carefully. The sensation makes you shiver, and when his thumb brushes your nipple again—skin to skin this time—you bite your lip.

You tug him back in for a kiss, and while your mouths meet, you shift your hips just enough for your knickers to slide down. You shimmy them off beneath the covers, kicking them away with your toes. He notices. His eyes widen.

“You too,” you whisper, smiling, and he lets out a quiet, nervous laugh.

He pushes his briefs down with both hands, wriggling a little to get them past his hips. They’re snug, but they come off, down to his toes where they tangle, and he has to kick them off. Again, you both let out breathy laughs, pressed forehead to forehead. Now there’s nothing between you. Only skin and heat and everything unknown.

Your palm traces the curve of his shoulder, gliding down his chest, where his heart beats like a second one between you. He mirrors the path, fingers grazing your hip, then your waist, learning you in slow lines and soft breaths. And then, lower.

You hold each other’s gaze when his fingers slip down, brushing through the heat between your legs. The first touch is feather-light, but it makes you tense around the sound it nearly draws from you. His jaw clenches; he swallows, focusing, adjusting, trying again—gentler, more measured.

Your hand finds him in the same moment, wrapping around him with instinct more than knowledge. The sharp breath he lets out doesn’t sound like anything you’ve heard from him before. His hand pauses. He blinks fast, lips parted, stunned by the way your touch makes him falter.

“I—I didn’t know it would feel like that,” he says quietly, wonder bleeding into each word. Your thumb brushes over him and his hips jump. His forehead touches yours, and he whispers, "I might not last that long."

“I don’t mind,” you confess, breath caught.

You’re both still breathing each other in when Viktor shifts, propped on one elbow, looking down at you with flushed cheeks and hesitant eyes. “I… I’ve been reading,” he says, and his voice is so small you almost miss it.

You blink at him, trying not to smile. “Reading?”

He nods. “About this. About how—it might hurt. For you.”

The smile breaks through anyway, teasing, gentle. “Were there diagrams or something?”

The tips of his ears go crimson. “Maybe.”

You laugh under your breath, and it seems to give him courage. His gaze flickers across your face. “Will you let me try something?”

You nod, already breathless at the tenderness in his voice. “Yes.”

His hand glides down your belly, careful and warm, until he’s cupping you again. You’re already soft and slick, the trust between you easing the way, and when the tip of his finger begins to press inside, your body welcomes him with a gasp.

“You’re…” he murmurs, eyes wide in awe. “You’re so soft.”

His voice makes your toes curl. He moves slowly, watching your face the entire time, his brows drawing together in concentration as he slips in deeper, then adds another finger, and you arch at the stretch.

Your hand tightens instinctively around his cock—still warm and heavy in your palm—and the reaction is immediate. Viktor gasps, hips twitching toward you, and then he whimpers, “I beg you, don’t distract me.”

You giggle, trying to find your composure. “Forgive my manners,” you manage, mock-polite, but your voice cracks as his fingers curl just so. “Oh—”

His expression softens into something closer to wonder. “Is that alright?”

You nod, panting. “Yeah. Better than alright.”

“Good,” he says, with so much focus it almost makes you laugh again—if you weren’t so full of feeling. “You’re doing so well.”

“You too,” you whisper, and you mean it. Every moment is something you didn’t know you’d treasure. Every breath from him, every careful touch, feels like something precious.

Viktor’s fingers move again, slowly, curling as if he’s trying to memorise you by feel alone. Your hips twitch, and your head falls back against the pillow, lips parted. It isn’t overwhelming, not yet—but it’s building. Warming. Like a fire catching at the edges.

“I like how you feel,” he says suddenly, shyly, as though he’s admitting something shameful. “Inside. Around me.” Your throat tightens. There’s something about his voice—equal parts reverent and surprised, like he can’t believe you’re letting him do this.

“You can—keep going,” you breathe. “It feels really good.”

His lips brush the ball of your shoulder. “Tell me if it stops feeling good. Please.”

“I will.” You smile, lifting your hand to brush his fringe aside, fingers sweeping through soft hair. “You’re already being perfect.”

That makes him fluster, his fingers faltering for just a moment before resuming. He adds a tiny twist to the motion, and the sound that leaves you is unguarded. “Viktor—”

“I like that sound too,” he says, grinning, and then ducks his head to hide it against your shoulder.

You both giggle quietly, your bodies trembling with nerves and affection and something deeper that you’re only beginning to name. Then, he kisses your neck. “Can I try something else?”

You hum and nod, nearly absent and his thumb shifts to stroke you in slow, tentative circles while his fingers stay deep, coaxing the pleasure higher. You cling to his shoulders, skin hot under your palms. It feels good—careful, considered. It’s not polished or practised, but it’s full of kindness, full of him.

And when your hips roll up without thinking, chasing the rhythm, Viktor breathes a shaky “Yes,” into the hollow beneath your ear, like your response gives him permission to keep going. You feel yourself starting to tighten around him, fluttering.

“Gods,” you whisper. “You’re so good.”

“You too,” he says, kissing your cheek, breath ragged now. “You feel… you feel amazing.” His hand has you, fingers deep, careful, as his thumb circles around you slowly. You can feel yourself tipping—your legs tense, your thighs pressing closer around his palm. It's all so much: the warmth of his body against yours, the way he keeps watching your face like he’s afraid to miss even a flicker of feeling.

Your breath catches. “Viktor—”

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “Let go if you want to.”

One permission is enough for you, and with a soft gasp, you do let go. It rolls through you slowly at first—warmth blooming outward, your muscles clenching around his fingers as your hips jerk. Your breath forms a sound that might be a moan, might be his name. He holds still inside you, except for the slow strokes of his thumb, drawing it out, waiting until your body begins to tremble and soften again. Only then does he carefully slip his hand free.

You’re blinking up at him through the haze, breathless, glowing from within. “You—”

“Did I hurt you?” His brow is furrowed. “Was that alright?”

“It was—” You laugh, dazed. “It was incredible. I think I forgot my name.”

He blushes, his chest rising and falling with shallow breath. You pull him closer, pressing your mouth to his, lazy and grateful. When your hand finds him again, he shudders violently. “You’re so hard,” you murmur against his lips.

He nods, almost sheepish. “Since the beginning.”

Your fingers close around him, and he gasps, hips twitching forward despite himself. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, panting.

“Do you want—?” you begin, but he interrupts with a desperate little sound.

“Gods, yes.” He lifts his head, eyes wide and earnest, “I really, really want to.”

You kiss him again. “Then come here.”

You watch as Viktor reaches behind him, fumbling for where his trousers lay crumpled near the edge of the bed. His hand disappears into the pocket and comes back holding a small, square packet. He blushes when he sees you looking, sheepish. “I, um… thought maybe.”

You smile. “I’m glad you did.” You help him tear it open, hands brushing. There’s a stutter in his breath as he rolls it on, careful and methodical, brows drawn in focus like he’s solving a delicate matter. His fingers tremble.

When he’s done, he looks at you—truly looks. His hair is messy from your hands, lips swollen from your kisses, his whole expression open and tender. “Are you ready?”

You nod, guiding him forward with your hands on his hips, your legs parting to welcome him in. He steadies himself on his forearms, nose brushing yours. “Tell me if I do anything wrong,” he whispers. “I’ve never—”

“You’re perfect,” you whisper back. “I want you.”

He lines himself up, the tip brushing where you're soft and slick. The sensation draws a sharp breath from both of you. And then, slowly, he begins to press inside.

It’s careful, hesitant, and overwhelming—tight and unfamiliar and so incredibly intimate. He gasps, pausing halfway with his eyes fluttering shut. “Oh—God.”

Your hands are on his back, one tracing the line of his spine. “You’re okay,” you whisper. “You’re doing so well.”

He presses the rest of the way in, shallow and shaking, his body curled over yours like he’s trying to disappear into the moment, or maybe into you. For a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just breathes, and you are grateful for this time to adjust. You feel the warmth of his chest against yours, his heart racing in time with your own.

“It’s—” he starts, then breaks off with a soft, overwhelmed laugh. “You are so good.” You cup his face, unable to say anything. When he finally starts to move, it’s slow and stuttering. He’s trying so hard to hold on, eyes glazed, mouth parted. You kiss his cheek, his jaw, his temple—anchoring him.

“I certainly won’t last,” he confesses, voice breaking. “You feel so—”

“It’s okay.” Your hand slides to the nape of his neck, thumb brushing his hair. “I don’t mind.”

His hips rock a little faster, the rhythm unsteady but full of feeling. Each thrust draws a soft whimper from him, a breathy moan from you. He buries his face against your shoulder, breath heavy. When he comes, it’s with a quiet gasp, his whole body tensing and then melting against you. He clings, arms tight around you like he’s afraid to let go.

You lie there, tangled together in the hush that follows. Eventually, he lifts his head, eyes searching yours. “Did I…?”

You smile and kiss him. “You were wonderful.”

He exhales, dazed and a little teary. “You make me feel like I could do anything.”

“You can,” you say suddenly all serious and Viktor blushes differently this time. His face blushes and his ears, but you are certain his heart does too. He rolls of you, limbs lose and boneless, and pulls you close, arms wrapping snugly around your shoulders until there is space big enough only for you to breathe each other in. Legs tangled and fingers twisted in another’s hair you lay sunken in the sheets. The room quiets around you, and neither of you knows if this was so big only because you don’t know any bigger—but you choose to take it as it is: humbling.

[bougiebutchbinch]

:c but his tunes....

ranking the best things I have had heard surgeons say mid-surgery:

"Five second rule!" while scrubbed, after dropping a sterile scalpel on the floor (no they did NOT pick it up again but I swear everyone's buttholes puckered)

(spoken during the closing of a particularly long and difficult case) "Nurse - my tunes." :heavy metal starts blasting:

Gently to a fretful patient, pre-anaesthesia: "It's going to be okay. I promise, I've dealt with worse." As soon as the patient is unconscious: "This is literally the worst thing I've ever seen."

[okay this one was a med student] "Wowwww, that's so gross!!" Reg: ""[xxx], "Please remember that the patient is awake for this procedure." Student to patient: "Oh my god. I am so sorry, that was really unprofessional - " Patient, cheerfully, also engrossed with what's happening inside them on the screen: "Nah - it's, like, super gross, right?"

[another procedure where the patient couldn't be anaesthetised] Patient: *starts singing country roads midway through the procedure* Surgeon: *shrugs and joins in with surprisingly good harmony*