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j'attendrai

@tiefenmesser / tiefenmesser.tumblr.com

hihi call me Kolya or 77 || 21, they/them desktop ver || art only: wasserbombe #1 das boot 1981 fan || maritime disasters, sharks, ocean liners, oh my!

hi yall, I go by Kolya (they/them) and I'm a hobby artist studying accounting!

languages: eng, 中, learning рус

currently into: Band of Brothers, The Pacific, Das Boot (1981)

currently listening to: Wham!, Victoria Monét, Rammstein, Judas Priest

⚠︎ this blog is 18+. YKINMK ⚠︎

mine: art ⚓️ yapping ⚓️ writing ⚓️ request list

fav "aes" stuff: all ⚓️ blue ⚓️ green ⚓️ ocean

fav things: sharks ⚓️ ocean liners ⚓️ fic recs

random: funny

Now consider: a man in a dress. Not in drag or all dressed up or anything. No accessories, no makeup or styling, just wearing the dress, some ratty boxers and muddy sneakers. No socks or stockings, hairy legs in the open air, just raw dogging those nasty shoes. Hair mildly damp. Visibly sleep-deprived. Bruises on shoulders, elbows and knees, left palm bleeding. Sitting on a curb on the street, shivering, looking wretched, and absolutely miserable.

I forgot where I was going with this.

Sir: Speirton Drabbles

tw// mdni, adult content, sexual content, Ron Speirs x Carwood Lipton, light Winnix, Lipton's PoV

"You don't need to ask permission every time."

The bed was awfully small. Carwood was halfway falling off of it, but he didn't mind one bit, not when he could have the other man on top of him. Feeling the steady thump of his heart. Fingers itching a trail up his arm.

Under the blankets, it was warm. He was warm. Lieutenant Speirs was warm. The room was warm while the outside was cold.

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