#submit an ask

[nothingf-i-s-h-yhere]

hey are you made of sand yet. or did it not work.

Maybe

[inkskinned]

the tradwife movement is the same as it has always been - back in the kitchen, back to breeding - it just has better branding.

when i was younger, i hated pink. i was not like other girls. this is now something i'm embarrassed of - this was not me being a "girl's girl."

but it was expressing something many of us felt at the time: i literally wasn't what girlhood was supposed to be. this is a hard thing to explain, but you know when you're not performing girlhood correctly. it isn't as easy as "i liked x when girls liked y" - because there were other girls that liked x, too - but i never figured out exactly the correct way to like x, or to be interested in y.

now there is the divine feminine. this is the same rhetoric it has always been: women are biologically driven to like pink and ribbons and submitting to our husbands.

the problem is that the patriarchy found a better PR team. because yes, actually, i want every woman to have the choice to be a homemaker. i also want her taken seriously for her legitimate home-making labor. i want her to be recognized as also having a job, just unpaid. i want men to have this opportunity, too.

but it is no longer "i made this choice and I love it." instead it is a sixteen-paragraph rant about how selfish it is that my generation isn't having kids. instead it's long videos about how if you feed your children processed foods, you're going to kill them. instead it is "this is what womanhood is supposed to be. i feel bad for any other choices you're making."

the shame spiral is just prettier. it is large houses devoid of personality. it is the implication: if you don't have this, you aren't happy. the solid, everlasting assurance: women are actually supposed to be submitting. this is the default. this is the natural state of things. all other attempts inflict suffering.

but you can no longer say i'm not like other girls. you can no longer reject this image completely. you cannot find it revolting, even if you know that the underbelly is toxic and festering. sure, it is the same repackaged patriarchy. but the internet does not have shades of grey. you should support and reward other women! your disgust is actually internalized misogyny. not because you are seeing a vision of yourself the way they're trying to train you to be. not because you feel her ghost pass within an inch of your earlobe. not because your father will eventually ask you - why can't you be like her?

because they figured out how to make it beautiful: women will sell other women on this idea, and we will find the singular loophole in feminism. sure, she's shaming you in most of her videos. sure, she implies that a different life is obscene. but she just wants you to be happy! you'd be happier if you were listening!

and the whole time you're sitting there thinking: i'd actually just be happier if i had that kind of money.

[ateezscupid]

shy innocent but experienced san x physical touch reader where she loves to play with his hair or touching his hands. sometimes didnt even realized what she does had effect on san

─── SENSITIVE ♡ ft. wooyoung, seonghwa, mingi & hongjoong

SUMMARY / All you were doing was giving your boyfriend head scratches. You didn't expect him to completely fold under your touch.

warnings ✩ SMUT, FLUFF, sub!san, soft dom!reader, head scratching, dry humping, handjob (m receiving), public handjob, praise, san is literally trying to mold himself into reader

word count ✩ 1,68k

tags ✩@desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @lezleeferguson-120 @hwallazia @ddeongmatz

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST

"So, what do you guys want to watch tonight?" You asked, flipping through the channels on the TV. The question was met with a content sigh from San, who was lounging comfortably on the couch next to you, his head resting on your shoulder.

"Terminator!" Wooyoung yells, bolting up from his chair and snatching the remote out of your hand. You laugh and give San's head a gentle scratch, his eyes fluttering closed in response. He leans into your touch, a soft smile playing on his lips. It's a simple gesture, but it speaks volumes about the comfort you share.

"Didn't you force us to watch that yesterday…" Seonghwa mumbled, his eyes still glued to his phone.

"Well what did you wanna watch?" Wooyoung retorted, tossing a cushion at Seonghwa, who catches it with a smirk. The room was filled with the familiar, comfortable sounds of your friends bickering over the TV show choices. You felt San's breathing slow down, his muscles relaxing further into the couch.

"Anything besides the Terminator! And we still have to wait for Mingi and Joong to get here. They went to get food; they might have a movie they wanna watch." San mumbled, his eyes still closed. You couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden passiveness. San was always the one with strong opinions, but tonight he seemed unusually mellow.

You smile, your fingers ever so gently scratching his head, the motion rhythmic and soothing. You notice how much San enjoys this simple act of affection. His skin is warm, and the faint scent of his shampoo fills the air, mixing with the aroma of the popcorn Wooyoung is making in the kitchen. The room is a warm cocoon of friendship and ease.

He melted into your body, his arms wrapping around your waist. You used your other hand to intertwine your fingers with his. He didn't say a word, just held onto you as if you were his lifeline in a stormy sea. Your heart swelled with love and affection for him. San was usually so strong and independent, but in moments like these, his vulnerability was a treasure you cherished.

He snuggled against you, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. You could feel his breath hitting your skin, the small noises he was letting out turning into silent whimpers of pleasure.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung weren't even in the room anymore. They were both in the kitchen bickering about food and movies. San's grip on you tightened, and you realized he wasn't just enjoying your head scratches; he was craving this closeness. You leaned into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. His body was tense, and his eyes remained closed, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders start to ease.

"Sannie?" you whisper, still continuing to scratch his head. He didn't say anything, only whimpering in response, his hips pressing against you even more. You felt the heat rising in the room, not just from the warmth of the bodies but from the sudden tension coiling in your stomach.

You could feel him beginning to move against your thigh, and your breath hitched. You knew San wasn't just enjoying the head scratch anymore; his body was responding in a way that was unmistakable. You stopped, your hand frozen in mid-air. "San?" you asked softly, a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

"K-Keep going…" San murmured into your neck, his voice low and needy. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Your eyes darted to the kitchen, where the sounds of your friends were faint but clear.

"Sannie? Are you hard?" You whispered, your voice barely audible over the TV. San's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and he nodded, his eyes still squeezed shut. You felt a thrill of excitement and nerves race through you. This was new territory for both of you, and the suddenness of it all was both thrilling and a bit overwhelming.

You resumed your gentle stroking, your eyes flicking to the kitchen door every few seconds. The noises from the kitchen grew louder as Wooyoung and Seonghwa's debate reached a crescendo, but you focused on San, on the way his breath grew ragged, the way his grip tightened on your hand. His hips began to move more insistently against you, and you felt yourself growing wet, the friction of his arousal pressing into you.

"Ah," you murmured, understanding dawning. Your hand didn't stop moving, the gentle scratches now a silent communication of your own growing desire. You felt San's pulse quicken under your fingertips, his body reacting to your touch. The air grew thick with tension, and your own breathing grew shallow as you tried to process this unexpected turn of events.

He whimpered, his entire face now hidden in your neck as he tried to control his breathing. You knew he was getting closer, and the anticipation was making you ache for him. The sounds from the kitchen grew fainter as the blood rushed to your ears, focusing solely on the intimate moment you were sharing.

Your other hand let go of his and reached underneath his sweats, your fingertips grazing the fabric of his boxers. San's grip on you tightened even more, his breath hitching as you touched him. He was definitely hard, and the heat from his arousal seeped through the material. You bit your bottom lip, trying to keep your own moans from escaping.

"Stay quiet for me," you whisper, your hand reaching under his boxers and wrapping around his cock. San's eyes snapped open in surprise, but he nodded eagerly, his eyes locking onto yours. You could see the hunger in them, the need for release that mirrored your own.

You began to stroke him in time with his hips, your movements slow and deliberate, watching his reactions with each pass of your hand. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his breaths grew shallower, his eyes fluttering as you touched him. It was like watching him unravel before your very eyes, and the power you had in this moment was intoxicating.

"You're so pretty," San whispered, his voice a shaky rasp as he buried his face deeper into your neck, his teeth grazing the soft flesh lightly. Your pulse quickened, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. This was a side of him you had never seen before, a side that was raw and exposed, desperate for your touch.

Your hand began to move more purposefully now, your strokes growing firmer and more deliberate. San's hips started to rock in sync with your hand, his whimpers growing louder despite your gentle warning. You could feel his cock pulse against your palm, his need for release becoming more urgent with every passing second.

The sounds from the kitchen grew closer as your friends approached with the food, the clinking of plates and the murmur of their conversation cutting through the haze of desire that had enveloped you both. Panic set in, but you were too far gone to stop now. You quickened your pace, hoping to bring San to climax before they entered the room.

"F-Fuck-" he whimpered quietly, his body tensing as he tried to hold back his voice. You could feel the tension in his cock as it grew harder in your grip, his movements becoming erratic. You knew he was close, and the urgency in his movements spurred you on.

You reached for a blanket behind him with your other hand and threw it over top of your laps, returning that same hand back to his head, continuing the gentle scratches to cover for what was happening beneath. The scent of his arousal filled the air, mingling with the smell of buttered popcorn. You had to be quick and discreet.

San's hips stuttered against your hand, and you knew he was right there. You stroked him faster, feeling the wetness at the tip of his cock smear against your palm. His breath hitched, and you felt his body tense up, his nails digging slightly into your side. You leaned your head closer to his, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as your hand worked its magic.

"I'm g-going to…" San's voice was strained, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. You felt his cock throb in your grip, and with one final, firm squeeze, he came. His whole body jerked, his warm release spurting onto your hand. You held him through it, your strokes slowing down as he trembled against you.

The kitchen door swung open, and Wooyoung and Seonghwa stumbled back in, arms laden with food. You casually wiped your hand on the blanket and hoped the sound of the TV and their own chatter would cover San's muffled cries of pleasure. San's breaths were heavy and erratic, his body still twitching slightly. You placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered, "Good boy," into his ear.

He blinked at you, his eyes glazed over and filled with a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction. You couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight, feeling a sense of pride and love swell within you. "You okay?" you asked, your voice low and gentle.

San nodded, his arms still wrapped around you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Yeah," he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. You leaned back to give him some space, but he only tightened his grip. "Don't… don't let go."

"Even Mingi wants to watch it! So shut up and accept it!" Wooyoung declared, setting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

"But we already watched it!" Seonghwa protested, rolling his eyes.

You smile against San's forehead, your hand still buried in his hair. "Okay," you murmur, stroking him soothingly. The sound of your friends' laughter and the smell of the food brought a sense of normalcy back into the room, and you felt yourself relax slightly. But the intimate moment you had just shared was still fresh in your mind, and you knew it was something you'd replay over and over again.

[eggsdrawings]

Mission...accomplished?

my piece for the 2025 Dabihawks Secret Santa 🎁

[hamsterdads]

johndave hi

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[ominous-signs]

saw this under a bridge across an intersection. who are they...

Official ominous sign

[slavhew]

do you ever get reminded of a ship, remember a piece of fanart of it that you loved, then after a day long search realize that you just imagined it? and then try to draw it yourself?

prllb btbtt ALT VERISONS

[chromacryptid]

Mumbo Jumbo HC season 10 episode 23, min 24:46:

Scar: "Is he trying to bang us or smth?" Mumbo: "Definitely."

Help why did everyone act like this was a totally normal thing to say

[bad-traffic-smp-ideas]

Homophobia life. If you make any gay innunendoes, play too much with people of the same gender or anything that could be interpreted as remotly gay, you lose a life.

But, and here's the twist, red lives are not affected by that rule, actually they gain an absorption heart for everything gay they do

Also ren cannot come in contact with martyn or they both explode.

So... bad news about Ren and Martyn.

[nothingf-i-s-h-yhere]

Ask me just fucking whatever. I want dumbass asks that aren’t pertinent to anything about me. Do it send me asks

[trashrat420]

I finally found more to make wave 5!

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

I do like to be known as the husband of the cool art assignment lady! Buy our coffee--and now, OUR TEA AS WELL!

(Meme by @ctimemes)

[ateezscupid]

nerdy pervy bf yunho who instantly got red and hard whenever you wore his clothes

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST yunho sees you in his hoodie and shorts ♡

"Yunho!" You jumped up and down excitedly as you stood on the other side of the door, watching as he walked into the apartment with a tired smile. His eyes searched the room, looking for the source of the noise. When they landed on you, his expression brightened. "You're home!"

You were wearing one of his hoodies with your pretty white pajama shorts, and he couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through him at the sight. He dropped his bag on the floor, a mix of textbooks and gym clothes spilling out. "Jesus…"

"What-?" you started to ask, but the words got stuck in your throat as Yunho stepped closer, wrapping you in a bear hug that was at once comforting and overwhelming. He smelled faintly of rain and mint, the scent of the outdoors mingling with the clean scent of his deodorant. It was a smell that was uniquely him, one that never failed to make you feel safe and loved.

"Oh- okay-"

"I love when you wear my things." he murmured into your hair, his voice gruff with affection. You couldn't help but lean into his embrace, feeling the tension of the day melt away as his arms tightened around you. His hand traced patterns on your back, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You pushed yourself closer until you felt something poking your stomach. You furrow your eyebrows. "Yunho,"

"Hm?"

"Are you hard?" You whispered the question into his ear, your voice barely audible over the sound of his steady breathing. He pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, a playful glint in his eyes.

"It's not my fault," he said with a smirk, his cheeks flushing slightly. "You just look so… tempting."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. "Well, I'm not complaining," you admitted, leaning in to kiss him lightly. His lips were warm and familiar, and the taste of mint from his breath washed over you.

He kicked the door closed behind him and picked you up, spinning around with you in his arms. You giggled, feeling lighter than air, as he carried you into the bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep the evening light at bay. He set you down gently on the bed, and you watched as he pulled off his shoes and socks, then reached for the hem of his shirt. His muscles rippled with the movement, and you felt your breath hitch in your chest.

"Yunnie~" You teased as he threw his shirt aside, his abs flexing with the motion. He chuckled, a sound that never failed to make your heart flutter. You scooted back on the bed, making room for him as he climbed in.

"Yes, baby?" He said as he climbed into bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He leaned over you, his eyes darkening with desire as he captured your mouth in a kiss that was anything but light. His hand slid under the oversized hoodie, tracing the line of your waist before moving up to cup your breast. You moaned into his mouth, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

"Can you eat me out-?" you mumbled against his lips, feeling a blush creep up your neck. It had been a long week and you hadn't seen him much. Your body craved his touch, the feeling of his mouth on you.

Yunho's eyes lit up, and without a word, he kissed his way down your neck, peeling off the hoodie as he went. He left a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone. You shivered, arching into his touch.

When he reached the hem of your pajama shorts, he took a moment to appreciate the view, his eyes lingering on the lacy underwear you had chosen for the night. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and slowly dragged the fabric down your legs, leaving you exposed to the cool air of the room. You watched him, anticipation building in your core.

He took a moment to gaze at you, his eyes roaming over your bare skin. He leaned down to kiss the inside of your thigh, the gentle pressure of his lips leaving a trail of heat. You bit your lip to stifle a gasp as he continued his exploration, moving closer and closer to your center. His tongue flicked out to taste you, teasing your clit with feather-light strokes. You arched your back, silently begging for more.

Yunho chuckled, enjoying the way you squirmed under him. He took his time, savoring every inch of you. His tongue swirled around your clit, pressing harder, then retreating. Your hips bucked in response, seeking more of the delicious friction.

"Mmm, Yunho," you gently grabbed his hair, urging him closer as your legs fell apart. His mouth was hot and insistent, the pressure of his tongue increasing with each pass. Your breath grew ragged as he began to suck, the sensation shooting straight to your core.

You could feel your arousal building, the ache growing with every flick of his tongue. The sound of his mouth on you filled the room, a wet, intimate rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your hands tightened in his hair as you lost yourself to the sensation, the world outside the bedroom fading away to nothing.

"Yunho, please," you begged, your voice strained. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust, and then he was diving back in, his tongue pressing against you more firmly, more urgently. You felt yourself getting closer, your body tightening with each stroke.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice muffled by your cunt. "You taste so good."

The words sent a new wave of heat through you, and you bucked your hips, trying to get more of his mouth on you. He groaned in response, his hands moving to grip your thighs, holding you in place as he licked and sucked with a fervor that was both thrilling and overwhelming. Your toes curled, your nails digging into the sheets as the orgasm built within you.

It crashed over you like a tidal wave, a powerful rush of pleasure that had you crying out his name. Your body convulsed, your muscles tightening around his tongue as the sensation washed over you. Yunho didn't stop, continuing to kiss and suck at your sensitive flesh.

"Y-Yunho! Oh my god-!" You gasped out, your eyes flying open as the intense wave of pleasure subsided. Your body was a trembling mess, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through your veins. His mouth remained on you, gently lapping at the wetness he had created, his hands still gripping your thighs.

"You're so beautiful when you come," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. You couldn't help the blush that spread across your cheeks at his words. He kissed his way back up your body, his eyes never leaving yours. When he reached your face, he captured your mouth in a kiss, the taste of yourself on his tongue.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel his warmth enveloping you. His hands roamed over your body, touching every inch of you, as if he hadn't seen you in years rather than just a few days. You moaned into his mouth, feeling yourself getting wetter with each stroke of his thumb on your clit.

"I'm gonna treat you so good, princess."

[jesuistrestriste]

Cowgirl reader x art when

𐚁 ✮⋆˙ needy!art donaldson x cowgirl NSFW 18+

—

art doesn’t even know why he agreed to go with patrick down south for an impromptu boys trip.

it’s stickier down there; the humidity so high that the air is practically drinkable.

the heat suffocated him and climbed down his throat the second he got off the plane, and patrick had unsurprisingly laughed at him when he developed sweat stains on his tee shirt after only ten minutes in the uber to their hotel. it wasn’t his fault, he just never handled high temperatures well.

he blamed the desert, or whatever hellish fire-breathing beast was desecrating this part of the country with such unimaginable warmth. he could hardly think straight with the way his clothing clung to his heat-prickled skin.

he regretted going on the trip from the moment they touched down at the airport. he wished he had stayed back home, then at least he could get some time on the courts. but no.

and so he ruminated on the idea that he shouldn’t have come.

that is, until he and pat went out to a bar that first night.

patrick had already gotten drunk in the first twenty-five minutes and was feeling up a stranger, staggering with them off into a booth buried at the back of the establishment to get handsy. art’s eyes had rolled so far back that he was sure the earth had almost tipped with them.

he leaned over the busy bar, sipping his underwhelming tequila soda until he felt someone different slip into the space next to him.

a woman.

a pretty—no, sexy one at that.

glossy lips, a loose tee shirt that hung off of one shoulder (pink bra strap on display), dark flare jeans that hugged her in all the right places, brown leather boots, and a cowboy hat.

she couldn’t look more typically southern. but fuck, she was hot.

she turns her head and smiles up at him, her hat tilting up with her neck’s movement to expose more of her face.

“hey,” she hums, her eyes scanning him up and down before he can even speak, “… you’re not from here, are you?”

her voice is warm and silky, like dark chocolate. it floods his brain and immediately dilutes his thoughts into incoherent ramblings.

god, why hasn’t he said anything?

say something, damn it!

“ha..! no, no.. not from here,” art chuckles out nervously after a brief clearing of his throat.

she just smirks. putting her pearly whites on display for everyone to see. or maybe just for him..?

“yeah, i could tell by the way you’re dressed.”

was.. was that an insult?

is he supposed to laugh?

shit, she smells like the most delicious—

the thoughts in his brain are cut off abruptly when he feels her hand on his chest, dragging down.

oh fuck.

“relax, city boy,” she purrs with an intoxicating drawl, her free hand taking the hat off of her own head and placing it on top of his blonde curls, “i didn’t mean to get y’all worked up.. i’ll buy you a drink, hm?”

“i.. uh, i mean— okay, yeah, uhm, sure. i’ll take a drink..”

—

an hour comes and goes, and then art somehow winds up in the back of the girl’s car; parked on the outskirts of the small gravel lot.

it’s a shiny, cherry-red convertible. fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. a picture of a well-groomed black horse tucked into the driver seat’s personal mirror (which she flipped up once the two of them were taking off their clothes).

patrick was still somewhere in the bar, preoccupied, so art felt less guilty about letting this woman drag him out the backdoor towards her vehicle. all it had taken was one sloppy kiss, and then he was willingly trailing behind her like a sick dog.

art can hardly process that now they’re completely naked; his flushed back sticking to her leather seats as she sinks down on his cock. a shuddering groan is pulled forcefully from his chest, spilling out in the next instant. he feels his balls draw up once, twice, three times in response to the feeling of her tight cunt gripping around him, and he swears he could almost come right then and there. she’s like a fucking goddess.

“can you handle me?” she smirks down to him, starting to rock her hips rhythmically like she’s riding a mechanical bull, “i wanna hear an answer, darlin’…”

“can’t—“

ugh, he’s choking on his words. shaking hands holding her waist with the desperation of a guy who hasn’t gotten laid in over a year. he’s allowed to be a bit pathetic.

“can’t?” she repeats, bouncing now on his slicked-up shaft, her nails running down his tensing abdomen and leaving red stripes in their wake.

he shakes his head, a loud whimper and gasp following suit. his thighs are starting to tremble. toes already started curling thirty seconds ago.

“can’t— can’t last, not gonna last—“

the woman just laughs lowly and rolls her pelvis in slow circles. art’s body vaults up in response, pushing against her weight on top of him as he feels a blurt of precome erupt from his tip and surround him in the condom— daring him to disappoint her and let it all go before he gets the go-ahead.

“ohh… aah— you really aren’t from around here, are you? poor lil’ thing…”

he doesn’t know why that statement from her makes his gut stir with pre-orgasmic convulsions. he’s trying to meet her movements with his own thrusts, but he’s losing stamina fast. every buck of his body into her pussy sends a sharp bolt of pleasure right up his spine. he’s sweating almost as much now as he was when he first arrived. probably moreso, if he’s honest.

and shit, he can’t be anything but honest at this point.

she’s making him forget everything he ever disliked about this part of the country.

she’s making him feel like her pussy could solve all of his problems.

she’s making him feel like… like… like—

“oh, god—!” he hiccups, squeezing into her torso, head tipped back and biceps curling as he tries to tug her down closer, “i’m sorry, i can’t hold it— i’m gonna come, can’t— can’t stop-!”

she giggles, and then there’s the voice again. warm, smooth, low. dripping right into the crook of his neck.

“alright, city boy,” she whispers, “come then.”

and that’s all it takes.

art’s eyes squeeze shut, his jaw slacks, and he lets out the most desperate strangled cry as he feels the scorching waves of pleasure consume him from all sides. he feels his cock kick against her palpating walls, pulses of his sticky white release webbing on the inside of the latex.

he’s practically vibrating by the time the aftershocks roll around, his baby blues looking up dazedly to the smiling woman still connected to him. her hands cup his flushed cheeks, her thumbs wiping beaded sweat from his temples and his forehead.

“there ya go… thaaat’s it, darlin’… let it all out…”

art sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and whimpers as he feels his dick stir inside of her, threatening to shoot again just from her words.

“haah… ha-aahngh… hnngh,” he quakes, gasping for air and trying to calm himself down, “h-how did… ngh— how did y-you do that t-to me..?”

trying not to sound so utterly wrecked is easier said than done, he’s realizing that now. he really can’t prevent it- he’s nothing more than a limp mess underneath her perfect form.

he winces and hisses softly with sensitivity when she torturously rocks just once more over his spent parts.

“oh, honey,” she laughs, “we just do it different down here.”

… god, he loves the south.

[ao3-shenanigans]

Just wanted to share: I've recently commented on a fic from 2016, an AU that the author has not touched in years. It was the only comment on that fic at all. And I got a very sweet reply from the author and ngl, this made my day. 💜 Moral? Everyone should comment on fics, no matter, how old they are. 💜

Aw heck yeah!!!

Comments and replies are the best!!!