#i've actually wanted to draw something like this for AGES

[picnokinesis]

"if there is any man left alive here, speak up and tell me: who killed all this mighty force?" and the dead replied: "child, it was you."

Finally, some art?! Yes well actually I drew this one all the way back in May for The History Between Us, a fanzine, which is being organised by the fabulous @77yearsteam! It's going to be included as a print to go with the special edition of the zine, along with a ton of other fantastic merch - and if that wasn't enough, the zine itself is going to be SO incredible! I've already had a sneak preview and it's full of a ton of incredible stories and artwork from some, following these two disaster timelords throughout their long and complicated history. Pre-orders open on 7th October, so make sure you check it out!

[birdmenmanga]

some kind of moodboard

@birdmenanime @kitsoa

[dimonds456]

sorry if i've been quiet, the anxieties have me.

but I have therapy tomorrow :) so hopefully things only go up from here.

[singeryuri]

The day I turn 18 I'm finally hosting the kaotomu/blooddust wedding bee tee dubs. "when's that gonna be" uhh stick around and you'll see. grins

[blumineck]

hi! you're great I love your work! I've got a weirdly specific archery question and thought I'd send it to you in case you'd find it fun to have a crack at

say you're an expert archer originally from Vietnam sometime in the late bronze age. say you're a super duper expert archer because it turns out you're immortal, and so you do your archery across Eurasia through the first millennium BCE and the first millennium CE and into the age where gunpowder weapons are evolving into cannons. that's a long time to be alive and you do lots of hunting and fighting with all kinds of bows and shooting styles, especially war archery on horseback. then you're out of the picture for a while, let's say you're peacefully sleeping for a handful of centuries. (this is about Quynh from The Old Guard who alas was not peacefully sleeping)

all of a sudden you blink and you've gone from the era where firearms were just starting to develop and maybe with this new flintlock thing guns could eventually get good enough to rival a bow and arrows— bam, now you're in the 21st century. what kinds of modern archery tech would you be most excited to try out? what would you think of a compound bow? Olympic style archery? plastic fletching?? how about the modern reproductions of what are now considered historical bows and shooting styles? is there anything about 21st century archery that you'd want to rant about at length? other opinions about these newfangled takes on your trusty old bow and arrows you care to share?

This is a phenomenal question, and thank you for asking it! Here’s my 2 cents:

The thing about modern archery is that for the most part, modern bows are designed to make it easier to be accurate, to the stage that modern target accuracy is probably better than it’s ever been historically.

BUT, if we assume Quynh is capable of feats of archery that match the level of melee combat skill that e.g. Andy has, then she doesn’t NEED it to be easier to be accurate.

My guess is that someone like her would actually find most modern archery developments needlessly slow and awkward. Compound bows and Olympic recurves are NOT designed for instinctive, fast shooting, and would probably feel quite restrictive once she got over how easy they made accuracy.

BUT, I imagine she would be blown away by the range and arrow speed that modern bows can generate, and there are some recurves (and at least one compound bow), that have been designed to make use of the efficiency of modern materials and bow design, while still allowing traditional shooting styles, and those, THOSE are something an ancient immortal archer might fall in love with! (FWIW, my own go-to is a horsebow made with carbon-fibre limbs and a modern limb profile, and for impact energy it can match some traditional bows with a draw weight that’s 50% greater. The Oneida eagle compound could trump that).

So yeah, it might take her a bit, but once she gets her hands on the right equipment, she’d be (even more) TERRIFYING!

[lovebugism]

Hi! Could I pls request a Steve x shy!reader drabble? Maybe they’re a bit of a bookworm and they have a meet cute at a library or bookstore or something ☺️ I love your fics, and I hope you’re having a good day! 💛

i've been working on this wip for ages but i loved this request too much not to finish! thanks for being patient with me anon!

summary: steve hopeless romantic harrington meets shy!reader at a bookstore and fluffy awkwardness ensues (meet cute, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff, 2.1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Five hours go by like minutes, tucked away in the back of the library — your own little corner of the world. 

Because all your spare cash went to groceries and good food (and the newest Margaret Atwood novel just dropped), you hide in the back of the bookstore and get lost in the nostalgic earthy scent of the thick pages you’ve been waiting ages to read. 

You sit between the dystopian and gothic fiction aisles, back propped against the former with your knees folded to your chest, and speed-read as much as you can before closing.

The in-store café offers complimentary coffee and bagels. It’s lukewarm and a little cardboard-y, but it’s fuel nonetheless. You only get up once to use the bathroom and stretch your stiff limbs. Other than that very brief break, you’re relatively unbothered — until page 196, anyway.

“Where are the porno mags?” a male voice wonders from a few aisles down. It’s not the first voice you’ve heard all day, but it’s certainly the closest.

A feminine voice follows, nearer now. “There’s no porn, dingus. I was just saying that so you’d drive me here.”

“…That’s so fucked up.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“No, actually. I won’t. This might be the end of our friendship, now that I think about it.”

Their conversation draws closer and closer to you in time with their nearing footsteps. You figure they must be looking for a different section — certainly not the one you’ve had to yourself all day — but then they turn the corner of the aisle and stop short when they find you sitting there.

“Oh,” a pretty girl hums as she stares down at you, rouge mouth forming a softly pouted ‘o’ shape. 

Her hair is a sandy color, like a beach, and it’s chopped at her shoulders. She wears a pair of slacks and suspenders over an oversized button-up. She looks like a character from a book you wish you could write. 

She smiles down at you, a tad bit awkwardly. “Hello…”

“Shit— ” you curse, scrambling to get your legs out of the aisle. Your face burns as you bring your knees back to your chest. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” she shrugs and walks on by you. 

A pretty boy follows.

His hair is a really specific shade of brown — like chocolate syrup mixed with honey. It’s pushed back over his forehead, messy with intention. A few strands hang over his thick brows like they’re meant to be there. He’s got a layer of scruff on his chiseled jaw that’s a shade lighter than his actual hair. 

His wide eyes are a similar chocolate-syrup-honey color.

He’s almost annoyingly pretty. The kind of pretty that seems unfair.

“Don’t apologize to her,” the pretty boy jokes with a lopsided smile. “She’s a total bully.”

The pretty girl interjects. “Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. And stop bothering her, dingus— she’s obviously trying to read.”

You breathe out an awkward laugh through your nose. 

You don’t want them to think you’re actually annoyed, but you don’t have the words to tell them that. You have no idea what to say to them, actually. They’re obviously far cooler than you are, and the notion almost threatens you.

The pretty boy doesn’t follow his pretty friend. He lets her roam the aisle, obviously in search of something, and leans against the gothic fiction section across from you.

“So, uh… What are you reading?” he asks.

You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, lest the words get stuck in your throat and make you sound like Kermit the Frog. You flash him the dystopic, renaissance painting-esque cover with a tightlipped smile.

“Handmaid’s Tale,” he reads with a squint, then nods. “Sounds fun.”

“It’s not,” the pretty girl scoffs. She thumbs through her own copy of the book that she plucked from the shelf. “It’s the one I was telling you about on the way over.”

The pretty boy’s face screws up in disgust. “Oh. The one with gross men?”

“The one with the gross men.”

He turns back to you, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I take it back. Not fun.”

You smile wordlessly in response.

“He’s Steve, by the way,” the pretty girl says to you, nodding to the pretty boy. “I figured if he’s gonna keep weirdly hovering over you, you should probably know his name—”

“I’m not hovering!”

“—You can call him dingus if you want. I’m Robin.”

“Hi,” you greet, quiet and mousy.

“Do you come around here often?” the boy — Steve — wonders, bushy brows pinched and burly arms crossed over his chest. “I feel like I’ve seen you before—”

“Ugh. Stop flirting with her.”

“I’m asking a question!”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile and your gaze back to your book. 

They argue like a married couple. You wonder how long they’ve been together — six months or six years?

“Sorry about him. He’s not usually this annoying,” Robin quips with a playful twinkle in her deep ocean eye. She slams the book closed with a ringed handand walks back towards you. She pushes Steve ahead and away from you in the process. “Alright, I got the goods. Let’s go before they close.”

Your eyes widen as you look down at your wrist. 

Ten minutes until eight o’clock. 

You turn to the book once more and find that you’re about a hundred pages shy from the end of it. You tend to read like a maniac if you’re focused enough, but there’s no way you’re finishing it before closing.

“Shit…”

“You okay?” Steve asks, still lingering at the very end of the aisle, though Robin has already left for check-out.

You rise and straighten out your clothes — the very un-special sweatshirt and baggy jeans duo you’d changed into after work. It’s not unlike the navy blue henley and similarly colored denim he’s got on, but you don’t look nearly as pretty as he does.

“Yeah,” you shrug, not quite meeting his gaze as you return the book that feels like it only fits in your hands. “I just— I didn’t realize how late it was.”

You don’t expect to see Steve looking so concerned when you turn back to him. His brows are furrowed, honey eyes glinting in question. “You’re not getting it? You looked like you were almost done.”

“Oh, I don’t— I can’t…” you stammer then trail off, fidgeting awkwardly ahead of him. 

You don’t want this pretty boy’s first impression of you to be that you’re completely and utterly broke. Even if this is the last you ever see of him, you’ll only be remembered as that one girl from the bookstore who couldn’t buy herself anything. 

“I figured I could just come buy tomorrow and finish it…”

“Oh. Okay. Well, it was… it was nice meeting you, then.”

“You, too,” you murmur with a tightlipped smile, eager to get away from a moment you don’t feel very deserving of. 

Out of every girl this pretty boy could’ve chosen, why did it have to be the one in the very back of the bookstore who was too poor to get anything other than a free coffee and bagel? 

You chuck both in the bin as you head towards the exit.

The sun has almost finished setting when you leave — mostly disappeared over the skyline, but painting the sky a deep lavender shade unique to the twilight hour. You stand at the crosswalk — the man on the speaker shouting “wait!” at your side — as you anticipate the orange hand across the street to turn into a white stick figure.

“I told you she’d still be here,” a familiar voice sounds from a few paces behind you, mostly drowned out by the sounds of passing cars. A louder “hey!” follows. You only think the voice might be calling for you until it comes closer. 

“Hey!” It comes again, louder now.

You look over your shoulder and find Steve from the Bookstore striding towards you. 

Both happy and confused to see him, your wavering smile is paired with a pair of furrowed brows. “Hey…”

“Sorry, you just— you left this.”

When your eyes manage to flit away from his sculpted face — which you just noticed looks eerily similar to Michelangelo’s David — you find that he’s holding a book in his hands. Handmaid’s Tale. The same copy you were reading, dog-eared just like you left it.

Your contorted features never falter. “I didn’t…” you trail off with the shake of your head, laughing softly. “I didn’t buy that.”

“No, I know,” Steve shrugs with a crooked grin. “I did.”

You think he might be implying he bought it for you, but then you realize that’s crazy, because why would he do that for you? That’s the sort of thing that happens to girls in Brontë novels, not to you.

“Youdid?” you echo like an idiot because it’s all you can think to say.

“Yeah. ‘Cause, you know, you looked pretty interested in it and everything…”

“But you didn’t have to… You didn’t have to buy it for me—”

“It’s not a big deal. Seriously. I mean, it’ll save you the extra trip down here tomorrow, right?”

You meet his confident grin with a trembling one. “I can’t take it…”

“Well, if you don’t take it, that means I have to keep it, and—”

“He’s pretty much illiterate,” Robin calls from a little ways behind him.

She’s waiting by a pretty maroon car. It looks like a luxury model of some kind, shiny like it’s fresh off the lot. She leans against it like it’s hers, but Steve’s got the keys in his hand — the one not holding the book he bought for you.

“…I was gonna say I haven’t read anything since junior year of high school, but sure,” he concedes with a shrug. His eyes sparkle down at you— or maybe it’s just the street lamps flickering on. Either way, you feel your stomach whirling. He waves the book at you. “Take it. You’ll actually read it.”

“But…” you trail off, eyes flickering over to Robin. You step closer to Steve and lean in like you’re about to tell him a secret. “Won’t your girlfriend be upset?”

“Girlfriend?” the boy repeats with pinched brows. He goes soft with realization a second later, then starts to laugh. “No. Robin, she’s— No. She’s not really my type.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry,” you stammer with wide eyes. 

If cool, pretty girls aren’t his type, then there’s no way in hell you are. 

Slightly comforted by his assurances, when he motions the book to you again, you take it. 

“Well, thank you, Steve. That’s… That’s really nice.”

He shrugs again. “’S no big deal. Really.”

“But I feel a little bad,” you confess quietly, peeking at him from beneath your lashes while you fidget with the book in your anxious hands. “I feel like I should give you something in return, or, I don’t know, like—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Steve assures with the shake of his head. He swipes a hand through the chocolate-honey locks and flashes you a smile that borders on shy. “But if you wanted to go out for coffee or something sometime, then I’d be willing to call it even.”

Your cheeks burn. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, or if you even can. A quiet smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you nod. “Coffee sounds good,” you answer sheepishly.

“Cool,” Steve replies coolly, like he isn’t totally beaming down at you. “Then, just… call me whenever you’re free.”

“Oh, I don’t— I don’t have your number.”

His sneakers scuff against the sidewalk as he walks backwards to his car. He just nods at you, smiling gently as he argues, “Yeah, you do.”

Your brows furrow in confusion — because you most certainly don’t. He was a stranger to you a little more than ten minutes ago. You have no reason to have his number. 

Realization settles over you like pinpricks down your spine, butterflies in your belly. 

You open the front cover of the book and find several numbers written down at the very bottom of the cover page.

Call me when you finish, the note reads in half-legible chicken scratch. I’m not really a book guy, but I could probably hear you talk about them all day.

He signs off with his name, number, and a sloppy smiley face. 

You don’t realize you’re beaming until you already are. 

When you look back up at Steve, you find him standing at the open driver’s side door, already smiling back at you.

[mayordoi]

Happy birthday to the number one princess in the world!! 💖

~from her biggest fans :)

ramble of my scattered thoughts on the piece under cut as usual cuz i love talking 😋

This has been an idea I've been cookin for a while, and it was so cluttered and unlike any other ensemble piece I've made... and I decided I oughta do it anyway. I love Miku, I love Vocaloid, and I wanted to do something really ambitious and crazy for her anniversary. Crazy that she's turning her "canon" age this year TwT

I had the idea floating around since like, May...? And then finally started acting on it around June 18. I'm terrible with deadlines, obvious with how I can never make a silly birthday post in time, so I started wayyyy ahead to make sure I have some room to be lazy lol, especially with an idea as ambitious as this.

This was finished on July 12! So I had to sit on this for an annoying amount of time. Very difficult for someone like me who just wants to talk about everything I'm working on to the masses. But at the very least, that gave me the time to work on the draft for this post.

~~~

Here's some ~behind the scenes~ scribbles leading up to the finished piece!

Left is the chicken scratch plan i made in my handy dandy notebook (whenever things are getting real and ambitious, i always made a rough ROUGH plan in there. Usually I'd do a rough pass of the full thing, but this was too complicated for me to do traditionally. I majorly benefited from digital tools to make this possible). CyberDiva and CyberSongman were considered, but I ended up cutting them cuz I just didn't feel like drawing them sorry-- (just pretend they're off to the side. They gave Ruby and Clara the pizza lol). Right is the "final" completed sketch (before I decided to include Chika mid-way through coloring and VY1 and VY2 near the finish line). I started by drawing the main "groups" separated on a different canvas so I can plop them into the main canvas for easy rearranging and transforming. However I got lazy and ended up drawing everyone in the bottom right corner directly on the canvas since I liked seeing the big picture of everyone's positions. Y'know.

Almost excluded Chika! But I like her design so much that I just felt like including her last-minute. You win this time, Chika fans. VY1 and VY2 were very close to being cut! I added them when I began doing the banner and thought "eh why not". I figured their non-human designs would be pretty easy to include pushed back in the bg. Ik VY1 is more commonly associated with the fan design, but I referenced the hairpin cuz it was simpler and the fan looked very annoying to draw 😭

Sorry to the fans of many Vocaloids I had to cut because this composition was insane enough as is. I promise I wanted to include fellas like CUL, LUMi and Sachiko 😭 I will admit I was a little biased on who I wanted to include over others. Like, I don't normally care for Bruno and Clara, but I wanted to get some more international 'loids in the mix. Also wanted to stick in the realm of official designs and not fan-designs since, as much as I can appreciate those, are just a whole "wait who is that guy supposed to be" situation I didn't wanna deal with. I also did wanna include even more character references through the balloons, but they ended up being kind of ugly and overcomplicated the BG :,) (Oh, and while this was originally planned to be a Vocaloid-only piece, I did end up including Teto, Neru, and Haku 'cuz those are Miku's besties dude!!! They may not be Officially in the club but they're her girls and it would be criminal to not invite them to her birthday).

Anyway, this project marks the first time I've drawn a lot of Vocaloids. Lily, Piko, Rana, Yuki, Yukari, Miki, Maika, and many more lol. All of 'em I've heard or seen in passing, but now I actually drew them, and some have really cool and fun designs!! I got into a habit of drawing Merli after this since I just love her design for example. And I'll probably be drawing more lol!!

Oh and the last thing I'll add for now!! The cake is indeed made up of various song references!! I wanted to reference the "big four" producers, just absolute icons in Vocaloid history. The pink/black checkerboard is "World is Mine" (Ryo), the crescents on the side is "Rolling Girl" (Wowaka), the smiley faces is "Matryoshka" (Hachi), and the three hearts on the side is "The Vampire" (DECO*27, which is sort of a symbol of his whole Mannequin album tbh). I know "The Vampire" is a bit modern but I couldn't think of anything else off the top of my head. I'm a fake DECO fan I know 😔 "Matryoshka" was originally going to be referenced in the colors of the candles but believe me it looked like shit so I just went for something else last minute 😭

That's all I have to say!!! Hope you didn't mind the text wall if you made it here. I hope you like it as much as I do!!!! Happy freakin' birthday Miku!!!!

I have to deal with tagging all these characters now for my page,,, in the drafts my tags got cut off after a certain point so I think I'm massively breaching the tag limit 😭 um... I'll figure that out later...

not losing sleep that i can't tag everyone, even for page organization purposes because some characters have pretty generic names and some are a little hard to see in full yknow. If you're one of those people who tag every character in the art piece you reblog... I am very sorry.

[donelywell]

If your taking requests, I liked to see your sonic and tails if they were closer to their actual animal size difference.

January 9 2024

Doodle Request #5!

You have no idea what you've done. This doodle request has made me spiral into making my own self indulgent au.

I've never more times in my life used 'cause I want to' as an excuse for something. This entire au is just self indulgent fluff. At first, I looked at the request and went 'oh, they probably don't realize how small hedgehogs are or how big baby foxes are.' and then I was like 'okay, but Mobian'. AND THEN I was like 'okay, but it'd be funny if Sonic was like- almost an adult in this drawing.' and it just spiraled into this. I want to make so many more doodles of this au FUCK.

So everything isn't set in stone yet, aside form their ages I think.

Amy is 19, she's studying to become a teacher. She works at a daycare.

Sonic is 22, he picks up odd jobs where ever he travels in his van.

Tails is 8, he also picks up odd jobs, but more mechanically centered ones (and way less jobs because Sonic will not allow the kit to overwork himself).

Knuckles is 23, he guards the Master Emerald still, but he also is a pro at arts and crafts (mostly pottery).

I know I wrote 'plane' in the doodles (if you can even read them, my handwriting is a nightmare there), but I was originally thinking van that Tails later modifies into a plane-van combo.

Do they have powers? Yes. Because I want them to. Are there magical gemstones? Yes. Because I want there to. Is Eggman trying to take over the world? Eh, I don't think so. I like chill vibes, plus how is Sonic gonna beat up a Motobug if he isn't even as tall as the tire? Why are they wearing clothes? Because I want them to! Why is everyone but Tails aged up? BECAUSE I WANT THEM TO (and it's funny to me).

Sonic and Tails live in a van (that he stole) and travel around. Sure, Sonic has super speed (he's not afraid of showing it off), but he just likes driving (he had to diy an entire system just so he could drive). Plus, it's fortunate that he stole that van, because carrying around supplies needed for a toddler already twice your size when you met them is definitely not light.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐅𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

pairing: dbf!ellaria sand x plus size!f!reader x oberyn martell, ellaria sand x oberyn martell

genre: smut, modern au, hurt/comfort, minors dni

word count: 7.2k

summary: Wanting to get away from it all for a while, your dad suggests that you go and stay with his friend in the city; Ellaria Sand. It's been a hot while since you last saw her and you must admit, you have a bit of a crush on the older woman. What you don't expect, however, is to find an equally charming stranger staying with her as well.

warnings: threesome, age gap (reader being in her late twenties), weed use, dirty talking, body insecurities (weight related), piv, oral sex (male and female), praise kink, light bdsm dynamics, subdrop, aftercare, squirting (but like very non explicit squirting as ironic as that sounds dfvdv), use of petnames (little one, pet, good girl), no use of y/n, both ellaria and oberyn are mentioned to be polyamourus, edging

a/n: this is hella indulgent and an idea I've had since September but never actually gotten around writing it. However, while I was taking a nap the idea suddenly consumed me and I had to pause everything else to sit down and write it. Enjoy the filth, there's so much going on ❤️‍🔥

**dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

You’re anxious as you wait for the door to open in front of you. It’s been a rough couple of months—years, actually. You feel suffocated by the world around you and yourself. Every day is another battle. You hate to admit it but you’re just so tired of fighting. There’s a constant weight on your chest that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do. Which led you to the doorsteps of your dad’s friend, Ellaria Sand.  

The idea had came from your dad. Noticing your troubles fitting in, he recommended you go and visit her. You were more than eager to oblige. You loved her company, she had an aura about her that just made you feel welcome. Talking to her came easy since she did most of it, and when you had something to say, she would actually listen. 

While you’re thinking about all of this, you’re trying very hard to ignore the fact that you might have a teeny-tiny crush on the older woman. However you’re ready to make the argument that it’s not your fault, she was just too charming—who wouldn’t have a crush on her? 

Ellaria’s excitement mimics your own as she opens the door. With a wide smile, she wraps her arms around you and drags you inside. 

“How was the trip?” she asks excitedly. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” 

“Of course not, I like traveling,” you answer. “Thank you for having me by the way. How are you?” 

“Oh, pretty much the same. Nothing new.” she helps you with your luggage and you follow her to the spare bedroom. “Also I forgot to mention on the phone but a friend of mine will be visiting and staying with us as well. Is that okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be,” you say with a leveled voice. “Does the mystery guest have a name?” 

As you step into the room, she turns to you, still smiling.

“His name is Oberyn.” 

For your first night, you weren’t expecting to get high on the couch with Ellaria, yet here you are, your chest full of cannabis as your head rests over her lap. 

“So who is this guy?” you ask as she places the joint between your lips. You feel the warmth of her fingers. “A boyfriend or something?” 

“Or something.” 

You draw your brows together, confused, “What does that mean?”

“It means my sweet flower,” she answers slowly, dragging her knuckles up your heated cheek. “We’re together but we both agree that the pleasure of the world is too many to limit ourselves to one person.” 

“You’re in an open relationship?” you take a deep drag from the joint, your lungs expanding with smoke. 

“We’re both polyamorous.” 

“Wow, lucky,” you say with an envious tone. She quirks an eyebrow yet her smile continues on to be a humorful one. You stammer with your words. “I-I mean, it’s lucky that you found each other. Must be nice having the same ideals as someone.” 

She nods, placing the blunt back between her lips, “It is.” 

“Is he nice to you?” 

You’re not quite sure what prompts you to as that. First of all, it feels way too personal of a question to be asking your father’s friend. Even though Ellaria has spoken about her sexual relationships before, it still feels like your might be crossing an invisible line. A fog settles over your mind, loosening your tongue. You’re fascinated by functioning relationships. You’re fascinated by the idea of two people actually being understanding and caring towards each other—as ridiculous as that may sound. You haven’t had the best experiences when it came to partners, most of them going into it with hopes of changing who you are, so anytime you see two people actually liking each other’s company you can’t help but want to pull out a camera and record everything. 

Ellaria blows smoke toward your face, the warmth of it ghosting over your skin like a summer breeze. 

“He is. I wouldn’t really be with him if he wasn’t.” she pinches your cheek. “You have a weird look on your face.” 

“Oh,” you answer dumbly. “Sorry.” 

“I’m just worried. Your father didn’t really say anything other than you really needed a break.” 

“I guess I’m just a bit lonely.” 

“Well,” she says and reaches towards the ashtray to snuff out the blunt. “If that’s the case you came to the right place. You can stay as long as you want to.” before you can say anything, she starts rolling another one and a loud knock echoes across the dimly lit apartment. 

“Ah, that must be Oberyn.” 

Begrudgingly, you remove yourself away from her lap and watch Ellaria make her way toward the door. She’s wearing an orange dress, the color warming her skin. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to her behind, the soft fabric hugging her curves delicately. 

With a noise, you hurriedly snap your eyes away. It’s not the time to be ogling her like a piece of meat. 

No matter how good she looks. 

You weakly attempt to collect yourself when Ellaria returns with a tall man in tow. As you get up, you stagger a bit but manage to immediately keep yourself upright by holding on to Oberyn’s outstretched hand. His smile is kind, and the kindness reaches the depth of his eyes. Though you also see a hint of curiosity in them. His palm is searing against yours and his fingers are long and nice-looking, you spot a stylish golden ring on his thumb. 

A bit scared, and a bit excited, you meet his gaze. He’s quite handsome. In fact, you believe you might be in the presence of the most attractive two people in the city. His facial hair is neatly trimmed, framing his jawline which in return gives it an even more sharper look. 

While you two remain hand in hand, Ellaria makes the introductions. Oberyn’s thumb smooths down your inner writs. A shiver rolls down your spine. “It is very lovely to meet you,” he says earnestly. 

“Likewise.” 

Oberyn picks up the unlit joint Ellaria had left on the coffee table before she went to greet him. You see a faint sparkle in his eyes. “You two were smoking?” he asks, turning to Ellaria. 

“To relax the nerves, my love,” she answers with a playful smile. “Help yourselves, I’ll be back in a minute.” 

You feel as if someone poured cold water over your head, “Maybe I can help?” you take a step forward, intent on following her to wherever she was going—which you assume is the kitchen. But she stops you with the raise of her hand. 

“Please, I’ll be right back. In the meanwhile you two get acquainted.” 

A second later it’s just you and Oberyn alone in the living room. He seems unbothered and lights the joint as he takes a seat. There’s a certain air of expertise and elegance in whatever he does. He pats the cushion next to him, “Sit.”

You sigh softly, collapsing next to him. He flicks the lighter and leans towards the tiny flame, his eyes fixed on the empty threshold. He takes two quick exhales, the tip of the joint burning a bright orange. Smoke pours from the corners of his lips. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him. Shadows dance over his face, giving him a dark look. 

“How do you two know each other?” he asks, snapping you away from your thoughts. 

You blink, momentarily lost in his gaze, before extending your hand to take another drag from the joint. Your fingers feel slightly numb as you bring it to your lips. "She's a friend of my dad's," you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've known each other for a while."

Oberyn nods, his fingers gently brushing the back of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself leaning closer to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“What about you?” you ask, hating the way your voice trembled.

A soft smile plays on his lips. His thumbs continue their soothing caress on the back of your neck, tracing delicate patterns that send a shiver of pleasure through your body. 

"She walked into my lecture one day," Oberyn begins, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "I was talking about the ancient civilizations of Essos, and there she was, her eyes filled with curiosity. After the lecture, she approached me with such confidence, asking questions that sparked my own curiosity. I learned that she was an artist and she was lacking inspiration. She thought a trip to the past would spark something in her." he says blissfully. “And spark it did.” 

“You’re a professor?” 

He hums, elevated by your intrigue, “Yes, but I do prefer excavating and traveling to new sites.” he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "It's much more freeing, rather than being trapped between four walls." 

His words wash over you like a gentle caress, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth. The joint burns low between your fingers, forgotten for a moment. With a jolt of panic, you extend it back to him. 

Oberyn's voice lowers even further, a velvet murmur that tickles your ear. "She's a remarkable woman, isn't she? So full of life and passion."

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you find yourself nodding, captivated by the combination of his words and the tender touch of his thumbs on your skin. "Yes, she is," you reply. 

“You like her,” Oberyn says, a statement, rather than a question. You’re horrified by the implication of it. Your lips part and close, words failing to come out. His sudden burst of laughter makes you jump. “Do not look so worried, I’m not here to judge you. I appreciate anyone who sees her for the gorgeous woman that she is.” 

His fingers find purchase under your chin, he lifts your gaze, dark eyes boring into yours. You forget how to breathe. With a soft smile, Oberyn brings the joint to his lips and takes a deep inhale, You can hear the sizzle of it, and feel the heat that radiates from the crimson tip. Your lips part by instinct, he leans closer. 

Oberyn fills your lungs with delicious smoke. Your lips never touch, yet you swear you can feel them pressed together. He breathes life into you and when it’s all done, he licks himself deep into your mouth. Pressing deeper, Oberyn flattens his tongue against yours and nips your bottom lip. Sweat drips from your spine and gathers at your tailbone. His hands affectionately cradle your face, inhaling you one last time, he breaks the kiss. 

You’re a panting mess, your lips tingling for more. 

“Take off your clothes.” 

Your eyes go wide, “I—Excuse me what?” slightly inching forward, you stare into his eyes. “Ellaria is right down the hall, wouldn’t it be. . . rude?” 

That sparks an amused chuckle from him. “You’re adorable,” he muses. “I promise you that she wants this as much as I do.” 

“She. . . does?” 

“Ellaria adores you. She also enjoys sharing her favorite things with the one’s that she cares for,” his fingers curl around your throat and you swallow. Oberyn tilts your head to the side. “Now, let me see you.” 

And this is the part where your insecurities make an ugly appearance. You avert your gaze, hugging yourself while Oberyn continues to stare. You want to do this. You absolutely do, if the slick gathering in your underwear is any indication, but it’s still hard for you to believe that he wants to. 

You feel the bite of his nails and bring your gaze back to him. You’re not sure what does it, but you find yourself scrambling off of the couch. You don’t see not one ounce of a lie in those eyes—you only see lust and intrigue. Besides, you came here to loosen up, what better way is there to do that than making out with a handsome stranger? 

When you’re left only in your bra and underwear, Oberny pulls you to his lap and you let out a soft gasp. He unclasps your bra and throws it over the small pile of clothes you had left behind, leaving you only in your, visibly soaked, panties. 

“Oberyn. . .” 

You jolt at the soft lilt of Ellaria’s voice. You stiffen over the older man’s lap, not knowing what to do. With a smile, he draws soothing circles over your thighs. 

Ellaria takes a seat next to you two. You’re too flustered to look at her but despite not looking, you see the delicate curl of her lips. 

“She’s too beautiful not to touch,” Oberyn drags his nose down your neck, and you smile giddily. Your heart beating a mile a minute. “Don’t you agree with me, Ellaria?” 

Her tongue swiping over her bottom lip, she reaches out and holds your breast, weighing it with her palm. She brushes a thumb over your pebbled nipple, a soft whine parts your lips. “I do.” 

“You think I’m beautiful?” 

“Of course, love. Why would I not think you are beautiful?” 

You grow silent. Ellaria’s fingers dances along your arm and heat settles in your core. Oberyn, with a curious gaze and a half smile, drags his thumbs down to the soft contours of your stomach rolls and gently pinches. You whine, sticking your bottom lip out, you look away from them both. 

“I think I have an idea why she thinks like that,” he hums. Ellaria’s gaze drops to where Oberyn’s hands rest, meaning your stomach. Your cheeks burn. Her eyebrows raised, you feel the weight of her gaze locked onto your face, but still, you refuse to look at her. Or him. “She lives in a cruel world that makes her think she’s anything but desirable. But we see her for what she is.” 

“And what’s that?” you mutter, embarrassed to be read so easily. He was right, you never thought of yourself as being desirable, even if you desperately wanted to. There were mornings you just woke up hating yourself, staring into the mirror and poking endlessly at your face and observing every imperfection. You’re tired of it. Tired of thinking of yourself as less. Which is one of the reasons why you came here. Why your dad wanted you to spend time with Ellaria, he knew the woman had ways of making you feel better. 

Oberyn's firm yet gentle grasp on your chin draws your attention, anchoring your gaze and shifting your focus solely to him. His smile is wide and predatory, like a snake. You tremble as his hands slide from your stomach to your waist, their scorching touch and commanding presence stirring a primal reaction within you.

“You’re a gorgeous girl,” he answers with a melodic lilt from his sinful tongue. “The type of girl we want to ravish for as long as you’re staying here.” 

“If you want to, of course,” Ellaria adds, playfully pinching your nipple. Your eyes flutter closed. The sudden mixture of pleasure and pain makes your skin tingle pleasantly. “Do you, little one?” 

You nod. Everything that’s happening feels like a fever dream. The scent of cannabis is still heavy in the air, making you feel soft and slow like molasses. Ellaria’s fingers dance along your nape, nimble fingers sliding into the roots of your hair, she gently tugs. Meanwhile, Oberyn nips at the soft skin of your neck. 

“Words, love.” Ellaria commands. 

“Yes,” you breathe out, voice shaking. “I want to. . . if you guys want to.” 

Oberyn whispers, “Good girl,” against your skin, and a wave of dizziness engulfs you. The two devour with the ways they touch and bite. Ellaria’s lips melt into your own as Oberyn cups both your breasts, kneading the soft mounds. 

Kissing Ellaria had been a fantasy you frequently indulged in over the years and you’re pleasantly surprised to realize she tastes like cherries and roses. You have endless memories of slipping your hand between your legs as soon as you were in the privacy of your room. You always had a feeling that she knew. Her gaze too observant, too cunning not to see the thoughts lingering in your head. 

Oberyn lowers his head and lifts your breasts to his mouth. He laves his tongue over your nipples hungrily. A wanton moan echoes in the back of your throat, your head falls as you part away from Ellaria. You hear her chuckle. “You taste sweet,” she comments, making you keen. “Despite the smoke Oberyn blew into your lungs.” 

“You saw that?” 

“You two weren’t exactly being discreet.” 

You’re hot all over, embarrassment pouring over you like summer rain. Oberyn doesn’t seem to care, consumed with the taste of your flesh. Your underwear sticks to your folds and you squirm over his lap. The man groans when you brush his length, you feel him twitch through the soft fabric of his sweats. The blood rush is loud in your ears. 

He feels. . . big. 

“Shit,” you mumble, delving your fingers into his short locks. You tug him closer to your chest and sloppily grind on top of him. You feel the sharpness of his teeth and then—

He bites you. 

With a sharp cry you jerk away, your gaze instantly finding Oberyn’s. The man is grinning from ear to ear. Your heart beats wildly against your ribcage. “What was that for?” you gasp, chest heaving. 

“It was an affectionate bite,” he teases, then presses his lips over the tiny dents. “Did it hurt?” 

“No . . .” you answer, sounding uncertain. “I was just surprised.” 

Ellaria rolls her eyes and tugs Oberyn towards her. The man goes willingly, his wicked smile never fading as she crashes their lips together. You see the pink of Ellaria’s tongue slip between Oberyn’s lips. His hands drop, his thumbs digging into the crease between your thighs and hips. You watch wide-eyed at the way the two devour each other. They’re so earnest, so hungry. It makes you ache between your legs and a bit in your heart. While Ellaria licks herself deeper into his mouth, Oberyn guides the roll of your hips. 

Suddenly struggling about where to put your hands, you place them on his chest. The fabric of his shirt bunches underneath your fingers. Your eyes roll at the delicious caress of his clothed cock. You want to feel more. 

When they part, a string of saliva connects them still. Oberyn grins at her and tilts his head toward you. “She likes the show it seems,” he states. 

With a soft smile, Ellaria turns to you. She cups your cheek and smooths her thumb over your heated skin. Your heart soars. She’s so tender, so soft with you. It makes you dizzy. You never thought someone like her would be interested. And you don’t only say this because of your physical insecurities, you just always felt like she would find you too inexperienced. Too young. You always had this unnecessary fear of sounding dumb when you talked with her. 

“What are you thinking?” she whispers, coming closer. Her hot breath fans your skin as Oberyn flattens his tongue over your neck, dragging the wet muscle up until his nose is firmly pressed against your jaw. 

“I’m thinking that this must be a dream,” you answer. “And I’m thinking how intoxicating you two are.” 

Oberyn’s smile is wide as he pulls away, his eyebrows raised. “Look at that, she found her tongue. How delightful.” 

Ellaria kisses the right corner of your lips and addresses Oberyn. “You’ll scare her, she’s fragile.” 

“I’m not fragile,” you pout. With a laugh, she presses her lips against your jutted lip. “I’m just nervous. . . you know my experiences haven’t been—” You clear your throat, suddenly aware of Oberyn’s eyes on you. “Great.” 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

Obeyn chimes in, his gaze moving to Ellaria, “What does that mean?” 

“Poor girl never came from another hand but her own.” 

“Ellaria!”  

“Oh?” Oberyn’s eyes bore into your own. It’s so intense that you can’t look away, and honestly, you’re not sure that you want to. He pulls down your bottom lip, dipping his thumb into the seam. “You won’t have to worry about that with us, sweet creature.” 

“I’m sure,” you hum, a coy smile playing on your lips. “So can we uh. . . can we take this to the bedroom? I’m not that comfortable on the couch. If that’s okay?” 

“Of course,” Ellaria answers. “Besides I hate how this fabric feels against my skin. So the bed is definitely preferred.” 

Oberyn, without saying a word, nuzzles your neck before pulling you to your feet. You falter, still a bit dazed. Yet, his arm catches you, keeping you from falling. 

“Careful,” he tuts, lips touching your forehead. 

Oberyn’s arm never leaves your waist as Ellaria guides the two of you through the hallway of her home. A route you don’t doubt Oberyn has taken many times before.

You aren’t sure what to expect when you enter Ellaria’s room. It’s quite neat, the bed quite big, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. 

Ellaria looks at you with a smile, curling her fingers around the elastic of your underwear, she tugs you close. Oberyn looms right behind you, he hadn’t closed the door as he entered. His cock hard and aching, resting between the crease of your clothed ass cheeks. His palms caress the soft mounds, his breath warm and wet against your nape. 

You’re suddenly highly aware that you’re the only one practically naked. Noticing this, heat crawls up your chest and curls around your neck. At any moment you expect to wake up in the familiar setting of the guest room, none of this seems real.

“Lay down, Oberyn,” Ellaria’s voice breaks the silence, her eyes never leaving yours as she addresses her lover. “We’ll join you shortly.” 

“Hmm,” he kisses your neck, your legs shake in response. “Should I take off my clothes?” 

“Yes.” 

Oberyn smiles, gives your ass one last firm squeeze, and retreats. And as much as you want to stare at the man in his full naked glory, it’s hard to pull your gaze away from Ellaria. You hear the bed creaking under the man’s weight. Still, you don’t turn to look. Ellaria kneels before you, tugging your underwear along with her. Her hands, despite not being large as Oberyn’s, feels all consuming. They languidly slide above your calves and thighs as she raises to stand on her feet once more. 

When she stands, you make a move to take off her garments but she gently pushes your hands back. “You watch,” she says, pulling off the straps of her dress and allowing it to pool at her ankles. 

You touch her like art. Soft and slow. Almost as if she wasn’t there. You cup her waist and skim your palm until you reach the side of her breast, in which you hold tenderly under your hand. A soft gasp leaves her and you look at her with shock and amazement. You bend forward, closing your lips around the tender nipple. You swirl your tongue around the areola, her eyes fluttering as she lets out a sigh. 

“That’s nice,” she says, looking at you between heavy eyelids. “You don’t need to be shy with us.” 

If it were anyone else saying that you wouldn’t have believed them, “I think you’re right,” you whisper, more to yourself rather than her. “You’re sure you don’t mind me being. . . timid?” 

Her brows furrow with confusion, her gaze searching your own as your thumb continues to dance over the darker patch of skin. Then you see it, the recognition flashing in her eyes. She might’ve forgotten, but you remember her talking about how much of a bore it was to be with unsure people. Timid, as she had put it. Which is something you’re being right now—you think.  

Your eyes find Oberyn’s from above her shoulder. It’s a fleeting moment. But he seems to be eating you both with the darkness of his eyes. Your heart skips a beat. Ellaria’s hand cradles the back of your neck, gently tightening her grip. When your gaze moves back to her, you see that she’s smiling. 

“I didn’t mean you when I said that,” she answers. “You lack confidence, there’s a difference. And I doubt you’ll be holding yourself back after regaining it.” 

“You don’t think I’m boring?” 

“I don’t,” leaning in, she drags her nose over yours, soft lips only an inch away. “Let’s not keep Oberyn waiting.” 

When you both turn, you see that Oberyn is softly touching himself. Fingers teasingly moving up and down his impressive length. You clench your teeth, arousal overwhelming every orifice of your body. “How should we do this?” he asks, eyes on Ellaria. 

Grinning, she gently nudges your shoulder with her own, you can’t stop staring at Oberyn however. He’s all lean muscle, the extra padding making him look fit. The coarse dark hairs lead a path from his softened stomach to his pulsing cock. Noticing your gaze, he wraps a hand around himself and starts to fuck his fist with hard strokes. He watches with delight at the way you lick your lips when a bead of precome appears on the tip. 

“Would you want to taste him?” Ellaria’s lips touch your ear. 

An awkward chuckle bubbles from your chest, “Am I being that obvious?” 

“Only slightly.” 

She guides you to the bed, and you take your place between Oberyn’s legs while Ellaria is more to the side. His hand instantly finds the side of your face, thumb tugging at the corner of your lips as he stares at you with a softened gaze. 

“Needy,” he murmurs. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you, little one.” 

You feel your pupils physically expanding. Ellaria drags her nails down your scalp, you purr at the sensation. “He likes it when you go slow,” she informs. “Start at the tip and drag your tongue down, he likes being teased.” 

With an urge to please, you do exactly as she says. First, you swirl your tongue around the bulbous head, his thighs stiffen, then you flatten your tongue and move down. The moan that comes from him is unfiltered and loud. Slick gushes between your legs. 

“Good girl,” he gasps. “You too.” 

It takes you a while to understand what Oberyn means. You only become aware that he was addressing Ellaria when the other joins you, licking a stripe up the other side of his length. You moan as you take the head between your lips, meanwhile, Ellaria closes her lips around the base, sucking the delicate skin. A choked out moan parts his lips, not being able to keep still, his hips stutter, forcing you to take more of him. His width spreads your lips wide. Your eyes water and you feel Ellaria’s tongue as she kisses the skin right under your eye. 

She replaces your lips with her own. You watch in a dazed manner as she takes Oberyn down her throat with practiced ease. His fingers tangle into her curls when she hollows her cheeks, forcing her head down. The sight alone makes you drip for them both. Now feeling even bold, you meet Ellaria’s lips while she’s sucking on the tip. You swear you see a ghost of a grin when she slips her tongue into your mouth. You taste a mixture of them in your mouth, and your head spins. Not wanting to part away, both of you lower yourselves, taking Oberyn between your lips as your tongues struggle to meet around his cock. 

“Fuuuck,” he groans, cock twitching between the pair of lips. You feel his rough fingers moving along your cheek. “You’re doing so well—both of you are,” Ellaria pulls away and winks at you before turning to Oberyn. You take him halfway into your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat. He makes a sound, burying his head further into the pillows. “If you continue doing that I’m going to come.” 

The sound of his voice lights a flame in you, the strokes of your tongue becoming more wild and eager. You swallow around him, over and over, until Ellaria pulls you away. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you choke out, eyes flitting between the two. “I want you to come,” you then add, jerking him. 

“Oh it is,” he answers with a sly smile. “But before that, I want to see you come undone on my tongue. And my cock.” 

Ellaria feels you shudder as she traces the line of your spine, “Get on all fours,” she says barely in a whisper. 

You do as you’re told. Arousal coils tightly in your stomach, your body burning from the inside out. You’re over-excited. Your breathing coming out in short, rushed pants. Oberyn gets behind you as Ellaria takes Oberyn’s place and pulls you between her delicate thighs. Your one arm instantly curls around one leg as you brace yourself with the other by flattening your palm over the mattress. 

Oberyn’s fingers languidly slide down the curve of your ass and slip two of them into your soaking heat with ease. You melt into the touch, your elbow immediately giving way and falling. Without thinking much you kiss the inside of Ellaria’s thighs, sucking and nipping her ample flesh. Oberyn begins to thrust his fingers in and out. Your walls flutter around the digits, your body growing tenses. 

“So wet,” he approves. “You must be very excited.” 

“F-Fuck, I am,” you whimper, attempting to meet the thrust of his fingers. 

He scissors his fingers and curls them, applying pressure to a delicate spot deep inside. A jolt of electricity rushes over you. Your body engulfed in a crackling heat. 

“Taste her,” he says. “Aren’t you curious?” 

Instead of answering, you meet Ellaria’s gaze before pressing your lips into her cunt. You moan into her, and she draws up her legs, bracketing you between the inside of her thighs. She cradles the back of your head with both hands, guiding you as you drag your tongue between her folds. She tastes fucking delicious. You love this, love giving her pleasure. With a hum, you close your lips around her aching clit and suck. Hard. 

Her body jolts, the bed underneath creaking. Oberyn swears from underneath his breath, and you imagine him staring at Ellaria’s debouched face. You bet she looks beautiful. Nudging the bundle of nerves with the curve of your nose, you tease her entrance with your tongue, slowly pushing in. 

“And you worried you would be timid,” she croaks out, her back arching as she tugs you closer. “Look at you now, my sweet girl doing such a good job in pleasing us.” 

Oberyn’s fingers are replaced with his sinful tongue, heat drips from your spine. Without wanting to, you pull away from Ellaria, moaning loudly between her legs. His tongue delves deeper, kissing your folds and lapping at everything you have to offer. He grazes his teeth and you writhe against him, your lips moving sloppily along the apex of her thighs as you attempt to kiss her. 

His tongue feels too damn long. . . he pushes the soft muscle inside, the mild stretch making your stomach roll. Oberyn is much better at this than you are. No doubt about it. Ellaria only watches as the most sinful sounds escape your throat. He fucks you with his tongue and between thrusts, he manages to flick your clit with the pointed tip. It makes you feral. You’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore. You continue to taste Ellaria, albeit much more sloppily compared to before. You catch her gaze whenever the fog in your head lifts, her lips are parted, eyes half-lidded. 

“I think you’re ready to take me,” Oberyn says, his voice hoarse. 

Before you can answer, Ellaria cups your cheeks, pulling you away from her core. Your chest heaves. She swipes her thumb over your lips, spreading the wetness caused by her cunt. “I want you to pick a word, love.” 

“A word?” you cringe internally at how out of it you sound. They haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already a mess. 

“A safeword,” Oberyn explains Ellaria’s words further. His hands grip your love handles and squeeze them tenderly, he pulls you back and you feel the warmth of his cock heavy on your ass. 

You think for a minute, your eyes darting around Ellaria’s face and the wall behind her. Your mind is completely empty. Blank. Not even one word comes to mind. 

Oberyn licks his lips, “How about that stoplight system? Green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop?” 

Ellaria’s gaze searches your own, and you nod, “That sounds good.” 

“Alright then,” Oberyn purrs, etching closer. He slides his cock between your folds, his hands skimming up your waist. Ellaria continues to hold your face, watching your every expression with interest. Your eyes widen— is she waiting to see your expression when Oberyn enters you? Fuck. Heat blossoms in your chest. “What is your color now?” he asks, hand cupping the back of your neck. 

“Green,” you say with a whimper. 

Oberyn pushes in inch by inch. He stretches you beautifully, only a hint of pain following while he fills you. Ellaria smiles as your eyes roll back, your lips parting with a guttural sound. He feels so good. So deep. When he’s fully sheathed inside, he waits for you to adjust to his size. Your legs shake. You’re barely keeping yourself together. Ellaria slips her thumb into your mouth and you wrap your lips around her diligently.  She hums with approval. 

“Does she feel good?” Ellaria asks Oberyn. 

“Yes. She feels like she was made for me. Such a perfect hole to fill.” 

You shudder, dripping down his cock and the inside of your thighs. “Oh god—” you choke out, your voice thick. 

Ellaria releases you when Oberyn rocks his hips impatiently. Your cheek drops to her thigh and with a shaky hand, you bring your fingers to her cunt, slowly slipping two of them inside. You know she wasn’t expecting it when her head snaps back. You can’t help the little smile that graces your lips. Her heat consumes you. Oberyn’s thrusts become faster, harder, sinking deep into your cunt. And with every stroke of his cock, your fingers go deeper into Ellaria. 

It’s a beautiful mess. 

You’re not sure how thin the walls are, you hope that they’re thick. You mentally apologize to the neighbors if not because none of you are making an effort to keep quiet. Ellaria grinds to meet your fingers, meanwhile, Oberyn’s cock is splitting you into two. His pace is brutal, you feel your skin rippling as his hips snap into you. Honestly, you’re not even trying to move your hand anymore, it’s all Oberyn—So technically, he’s fucking two people at once. 

Suddenly you find yourself being shoved into Ellaria’s delectable cunt, Oberyn pushes you down, blunt nails biting into your scalp. With a groan, you once again close your lips around her clit and suck. You swirl your tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, then gently —almost fearfully due to the harsh grind of Oberyn’s hips— you graze your teeth. 

Ellaria cries out, a sound that takes you by surprise. Between wet eyelashes, you watch as her face contorts in pleasure, her walls squeezing your fingers tight. Her clit throbs against your tongue and just like that, she’s gushing heavily into your mouth. Oberyn’s movements slow, his brutal pace becoming a lazy one as his cock massages your walls. You have a feeling he’s watching her as well. 

Noticing that she’s crying out both your names, your pulse quickens. 

You pull out your fingers and hold her hips, wet streaks glisten on top of her sun-kissed skin. Burying your mouth deep within her folds, you allow your tongue to lick the remains. Another, more gentle, orgasm washes over her, the cries from before becoming sighs of languid pleasure. 

“Good girl,” Oberyn growls, his hand becomes a necklace around your neck and he hauls you up. He shoves his lips against your ear, the tremor of his voice making you tremble. “You know, I’ve never seen her come quite that hard with the others. She must like you a lot, pet.”

fuckfuckfuck 

The way he rolls his tongue as he says it, pet—you don’t expect it to affect you that much but it does, your entire body tenses, his cock easing in and out of you even faster thanks to the way you gush around him. 

“You like that?” 

Shit, he noticed. 

“I—I—” 

He grabs your chin and clashes your lips in a bruising kiss. Oberyn leaves you breathless, your lungs convulse, burning with the lack of oxygen. You taste a hint of yourself on his tongue. 

“Our sweet pet,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re stunning like this, all fucked out.” 

Oberyn kisses you once more then turns to Ellaria with a smile, “I can still taste you on her tongue.” 

“I would think so. She was quite thorough,” she teases, her gaze fixed on you. 

Ellaria touches herself slowly as Oberyn resumes his brutal pace. Wet noises flood the dimly lit room, Oberyn buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder. You feel the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth. Your loins burn. 

Oberyn dangles you on the edge of a cliff. Every time you’re close to your release, he slows his hips into a gentle roll, only to build you up again. Ellaria simply watches, gently drawing tender circles while Oberyn toys with you. Their pet. 

“Please,” you beg. “I want to come.” 

You sound teary and embarrassed. Oberyn kisses your neck. “You have been good,” he murmurs, eyes moving to Ellaria. “What do you say?” 

“Let her come,” she sighs, smiling. “Make it feel good for her, Oberyn.” 

Oberyn makes a sound of eager approval. His one hand slips between your legs as the other grasp your breast, keeping your sweat-soaked body flush against him. His fingers draw tight, quick circles around your clit as he presses into you, hips smacking against your flesh over and over. 

It doesn’t take you long after that. 

Your orgasm hits you like a truck—hell, it hits you like a train. It’s violent, intense. Every muscle grows taut and your skin tingles as if it’s burned. You can’t even cry out properly, your mouth wide in a silent scream. Something warm trickles down your thighs, and if it wasn’t for Oberyn’s constant, steady praise in your ear you would’ve been embarrassed. But instead, you just slump against him. Your body feeling limp as if you might never be able to stand again. He rolls his hips, and each time waves of pleasure wash over you, it’s not as intense, but it feels amazing. 

“That’s it,” he rasps. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?” 

Your nod is followed by a hiss when he does, the sudden lack of him making you feel empty, and frankly, a little bit sad. However, you don’t get the chance to linger on the feeling as Oberyn guides you toward the empty spot next to Ellaria. 

She holds you in a tight embrace, whispering praise into your hair. Oberyn shuffles until he’s behind her, his arm draped over her waist. His cock is still hard and heavy between his legs, glistening with your slick. 

You ask weakly to Oberyn, “What about you?” 

“Always so thoughtful,” Ellaria purrs. She throws her arm back, pulling Oberyn close by the neck. He kisses a delicate path up that follows the curve of her neck. “You don’t need to worry about him. Just relax. . . and enjoy yourself.” 

When Oberyn sinks into her, you understand why Ellaria was so eager to watch your expression. 

You stare into the small bathroom mirror above the sink, the light irritating your eyes. You’re fresh out of the shower, naked, still dripping, the drops warm as it slides down your skin. Ellaria’s reflection comes into view, also naked, her hands delicately moving over your body, examing to see if you’re hurt anywhere. 

“How do you feel?” she asks, satisfied with her examination. 

“I’m fine,” you answer dismissively, still staring at your reflection. You feel detached, your limbs slow and tenderly aching. 

Oberyn squeezes a tub of minty toothpaste over the bristles of your brush and holds your chin. Instinctively, you turn to him. He gently pinches your jaw. You open your mouth. 

He starts to brush your teeth. This man you just met, this man who just railed the ever-living shit out of you. . . is tenderly brushing your teeth. You taste the mint and without meaning to, you wrinkle your nose. He laughs. 

“It’ll be over soon.” 

The thing that makes you tear up is how delicate they are with you. It’s unexpected. They don't think you’re invincible just from your looks. They see that you’re broken, see that you want to be taken care of.  And they humor you, treating you as you wish to be treated, without you having to say so. 

They touch you as if you are a glass rose. It makes your chest ache. 

“I think I have ointment somewhere,” Ellaria mutters to herself, turning on her heel and looking over the shelves. “It will soothe your skin.” 

The small sniffle you make goes unnoticed by Ellaria but not Oberyn. With a raised eyebrow, he pulls out the toothbrush. “Rinse,” he says simply. He turns on the faucet for you and you fill your mouth with water. You swish it around. Then look to him before doing anything else. “Spit.” 

You watch as the foamy water goes down the drain. You straighten back up, watching the reflections that dance in the mirror once more. You feel his eyes on you but you’re too flustered to answer his gaze. Ellaria holds a small container of ointment, when she sees your expression her brows furrow. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you mumble, not truly knowing the answer yourself. Oberyn opens the faucet again and rinses the toothbrush. After placing it back, he brushes his lips over yours, the gesture sparking life back into your body. “I don’t know,” you then say. “It just feels all so nice, I’m not used to. . . I don’t know, sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Ellaria says, opening the small container. She takes a hefty amount with two fingers and rubs it into the tender skin of your asscheeks. “It’s normal. You haven’t been feeling well lately, and it’s common to feel a bit of a drop after.” 

“Is it really?” you ask. 

Oberyn answers you instead, “It is. You’ll feel much better when we’re back in bed when you’re between us.” 

Ellaria nods and you manage to smile. With a soft chuckle, you shake your head. “You two are too nice to me.” 

“The bare minimum shouldn’t be surprising you this much,” Oberyn’s gaze softens. “But we’ll fix that.” 

As the two guide you back to the bedroom, you believe they will. 

[breathlesswinds]

(Devlog) What We Learned Making A Trans Dating Game

Hello, Amelia here, the writer for Breathless Winds. It's been 250,000+ words, countless revisions, and three years since this game entered development, and I wanted to talk about what I've learned leading up to release.

The concept for Breathless Winds was actually sort of a joke between friends. I was talking with Doris about how there should be a dating game where you play as a trans woman and your dating options revolve around certain ‘tropes’ we’d both seen in trans fiction-- the totally accepting cishet guy who falls in love with the trans heroine before she even knows she’s a woman, the cool trans woman who the heroine doesn’t know if she wants to date or wants to be, and so on.

Doris wound up suggesting we make this game ourselves. We both like visual novels and want to tell LGBT stories. Still half-jokingly and half-seriously, we started fleshing out what the romance options would be and coming up with a setting-- and soon, we were fully committed to making this game real.

I was a fan of visual novels but had only ever written prose. I knew which visual novels I liked and which scenes stood out, but I didn’t know why they did or how to make my own. 

I read some great advice from visual novel developers, but a good amount of my knowledge came from just working on Breathless Winds. As our first project, this game has grown a lot with us and we’ve learned a lot while making it.

Learning How to Write Visual Novels

A bad habit I had to break out of was only using the ‘novel’ part of the game and not the ‘visual’ part. I would sometimes write “He smiled” or lines like that, and Doris informed me that we can convey this much more simply with a sprite change.

It sounds obvious in retrospect, but lines like that are often pretty invisible when you’re reading a non-visual novel. These lines change the sprite of the character inside your head (if that makes sense, haha). I realized that I’m so used to them being ‘invisible’ that I didn’t notice their absence in visual novels I liked, so I would accidentally include them while writing. 

I was also writing these routes in a word processor, so I didn’t have the visual portion to reference, myself. I wound up making a lot of ‘tone’ notes like, “Lantana should be smug here” so that the meaning would carry when revising and implementing these into Ren’py. 

So, while visual novels share a lot with prose, they’re an entirely different medium. On the subject of representing things visually, I’ve struggled trying to figure out how much can be visually represented and how much should be written. 

Every asset in the game has to be drawn by Doris, so if I want the characters to go to a new location for a scene, I have to keep in mind that’s another background that Doris has to draw. If I want a new character to show up, that’s another sprite she has to draw. I don’t want to overload her, but if I’m trying to avoid this entirely, characters sometimes wind up standing in one room talking for ages without anything significant changing on-screen.

I’ve learned that it’s recommended for something to almost always be changing on-screen, though, so sometimes I just have to ask Doris to make a new asset for a certain scene. I still try to stick to locations/characters that already exist more often than not.

Every single thing in a visual novel is deliberate. Another thing I’ve had to learn that I never even considered before is how to write each line so it fits in the text box. It sounds obvious, but when I’m playing a visual novel, I don’t usually think about how each line has to be carefully constructed so it doesn’t need to be split up into two or more text boxes. In my mind, if a visual novel is well-created, there’s not much that breaks a reader’s immersion.

Planning & Outlining

The previous section might sound really weird to some people, so let me elaborate.  I’m a lifelong ‘write by the seat of your pants’-er, so the biggest trial-and-error of creating Breathless Winds for me was planning out the game.

Initially, I created outlines for each of the four routes, and we agreed ahead of time on which CGs each route would have. That way, Doris could draw the necessary backgrounds and CGs while I was in the long process of drafting this game.  My original outlines weren’t great. I know a lot of people have different experiences with writing, but for me personally, a story is always shaping itself in my mind. When I started making the outlines for Breathless Winds, I knew the concepts we wanted to convey, but I didn’t know what each route (and the game as a whole) was really about yet. This might sound weird and unprofessional, but sometimes, I don’t know what a story is about until I finish the first draft.

So while I was writing, I would look at my outlines and I would think, “this doesn’t actually make sense, he wouldn’t say that” or “this plot point would work better if moved to this other section” or “there’s a plot hole here I didn’t notice”. The story wound up changing a lot in this way as I learned what it’s really ‘about’. 

And even after I finished the first draft, I’d get feedback from Doris and/or my editor and they would suggest fixes to problems that even I hadn’t noticed, and then I would revise the route some more, and later on I’d come back and need to redo part of the route to comply with something I wrote in a later route-- I haven’t really felt ‘finished’ with Breathless Winds at any point, and I think I’ll still feel this way after the game is released.

This means that sometimes, a background was created but would go unused because there was no space for the scene that would use it, or we’d need a new CG last-minute, or so on. 

When I’m figuring things out as I go while writing a non-VN, the only person that I can adversely affect is my own self… so I’m eternally grateful for all of Doris’s patience with me on this matter. I think Breathless Winds has come out a much better game for all the re-plotting and revision. 

I redid the outlines several times as I went. I think I’ve understood how to create outlines that personally work for me-- ‘living’ outlines that hit all the main points, but leave wiggle room for moments when a character does something unexpected, work the best for me.

Scope Creep

So, originally, each route was meant to be 40,000 words. “With four routes, that’s only 160,000 words!” I thought. “And some of my favorite visual novels are about that long, so I can write that much, too!” ← clueless

This is the most infamous mistake that new creators make, and I walked right into it. I should have known better since I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with past non-VN writing projects before, but I was starry-eyed and didn’t realize how much work it is to make a VN. Some of those favorite visual novels I referenced were made by much larger teams, writers whose full-time job was writing (I wrote all of these routes on the side while working at a day job). 

If I could have done it again, I would have asked Doris to start out with a really short VN. But, I don’t regret making Breathless Winds at all. It’s brought Doris and I a lot closer, for one. Every time I thought I wanted to give up on this, Doris would motivate me to continue. Without the two of us both and our strong friendship, Breathless Winds wouldn’t exist, and I think that’s beautiful. 

No matter what, we’re going to see it through to the end. (I hope people like it, though…)

Anyway, here I am talking about how much 40,000 words is. Each route now is about 60k to 70k words. The problem with having evolving outlines is that they can often evolve into double their original size.

We came up with the idea of the poachers really early in development, and then not addressing the poachers felt like a failing, but by that point it was too late to remove the poachers entirely… and so the game wound up a lot longer dealing with the poachers. 

I think that if we had an editor sooner on in the game’s development, then we might have had someone to tell us, “do you really need all of this in the game? Does this plot point really need to be there? Will you be able to write all of this in a reasonable amount of time?”, haha. But Doris and I were really excited about the possibilities of this game when we started creating it, and without anyone to reel us back in, we wound up coming up with more and more things we wanted to put in the game.

Did you know there was going to be an island full of talking rats who say things like “the big cheese” and stuff all the time in Breathless Winds? Yeah. 

The Core Design Philosophy of Breathless Winds

So, for anyone who’s read this far but doesn’t know yet-- the premise of Breathless Winds is that you play as a trans woman who doesn’t know she’s trans yet, and she finds love with one of four love interests as she discovers her gender identity. 

In real life, it can be a lot messier for a person to date when discovering their gender identity. To put it briefly and mildly, a trans person’s life and sense of personal identity can rapidly change during a gender crisis and the early stages of transition. 

However, we wanted to make this game a ‘wish-fulfillment’ type story-- a trans fantasy about acceptance, community, and love. During a gender crisis, it can be easy to feel as if one has lost touch with themselves and become isolated from others. A sincere wish shared by many trans people is to be accepted, loved, and even celebrated as their true gender, not just tolerated. 

Since many trans people don’t get love and acceptance in real life, especially with the ongoing transphobic moral panic, we wanted to create a game that would bring this feeling of trans joy and celebration to trans audiences. 

We also hope that cis players will still enjoy the story and characters, and maybe come away from the game with a new understanding about being transgender and other aspects of LGBT identity (although we never intended this game to be ‘educational’).

Making Characters that Celebrate Trans Identity

Although we went through several revisions, the core identities of each character stayed the same since the game was first ‘jokingly’ pitched. In another post, I discussed how each character is themed around a change in seasons. (I also wound up theming them around the four humors when I was initially concepting them-- I really wanted to avoid too much ‘overlap’ in the LI’s personalities, haha). 

Ultimately, characters are created to serve a role. The LIs in Breathless Winds were designed to be love interests, of course-- characters who would appeal to the hypothetical trans femme audience. As mentioned earlier, we modeled them after other trans fiction tropes because these types of characters have a certain tried-and-true appeal, but this left plenty of flexibility to put our own spin on it. 

A trans woman being loved as a woman by a cishet guy can feel like a high form of ‘passing’, ‘fitting in’ to the female gender role, and being validated by his orientation. He only likes women, and he likes you, so you’re undoubtedly a woman. As a cishet guy, he represents a sort of acceptance into a societal norm that trans women can desire to live to. (Lantana, as a cis lesbian, represents the sapphic counterpoint to this-- although there is of course a big gap between the ‘normalcy’ of a cishet man and a cis lesbian woman, and I don’t mean to say those two are equivalent.) 

But not all trans women want to live to that (cis) societal norm. Rue and Valerian, as a trans woman and a trans man respectively, are the t4t options. 

Rue’s route represents that trans/sapphic ‘envy’ (“do I want her or do I want to be her?”) as well as finding power in community aside from what society considers ‘normal’. We’ve always been pretty clear about what we wanted to do with Rue’s route.

We went back and forth a lot more on Valerian’s route. Initially, we were unsure if he should be trans. He and Rue are the two less-friendly love interests (at least initially), so I was afraid it would come across that t4t is a more hostile option, which is not true at all. But it also felt like a mistake to not have a trans man in the game-- but making Gallardia trans would have required a big overhaul of what we had in mind for him and his route. (Although, childhood friends t4t is a really good idea...)

Beyond that, Valerian takes a villainous role in any route that isn't his own. We were worried that it would be wrong to have a trans antagonist who represents unjust power. However, Breathless Winds is a queer game with other positive trans characters, and we've always approached Valerian as a hot anti-villain man that you can't help but like.

In the end, Valerian’s route is about breaking generational cycles and what it is that makes you a man, and I also managed to sneak in a scene where they dance at a ball in the royal palace, so in the end I think it all worked out great.

Wish Fulfillment and Catharsis

Doris and I both agreed that we wouldn’t depict on-screen transphobia in Breathless Winds. Poppy worries about not being accepted, but fear of acceptance can come with any change in identity. Rue was rejected by her family for being trans, but this doesn’t take place ‘on screen’ in the game. There exist certain metaphorical parallels for transness and transphobia, but every route has a happy ending. 

Following up on this-- it can be difficult to write about discovery of gender identity without writing about transphobia, considering how many trans people suffer from internalized transphobia during their period of repression.

Sometimes, repressed/closeted transgender people ‘hyper-perform’ their assigned gender as a form of denial. A trans woman might grow out a beard and join a gym, while a trans man might become very interested in makeup and feminine clothing. 

In Breathless Winds, Poppy often struggles with ‘strength’ and what it means to be a man. In several routes, she tries to prove her strength under the assumption that being stronger would make her happy. Afraid the world would reject her if she became who she really is, she preemptively rejects herself.

Not every trans person suffers from prolonged denial, internalized transphobia, or even gender dysphoria. I don’t think it’s impossible to tell a purely-positive story about trans joy. 

While Poppy never gets rejected for being trans, faces transphobia, gets called a slur, etc, she faces both internal and external (metaphorical) obstacles to realizing and accepting her identity. 

Gallardia represents a societal norm that Poppy can’t live up to herself as a man.

Lantana suffers from certain aspects of her identity as a woman, which makes Poppy feel guilt for wanting to be a girl.

Rue is isolated from town at the start of her route, a ‘punishment’ for breaking this societal norm.

Valerian has to hyper-conform to his masculine gender role at first in toxic ways before finding acceptance from within and from his loved ones.

These struggles are real to a lot of people, but instead of pretending they don’t exist, I hoped to tell a story about catharsis. Poppy is able to live up to her truth as a woman and finds love with Gallardia, Poppy and Lantana redefine what being a woman should and does mean to them, Rue and Poppy find community in others who don’t fit the norm, Poppy and Valerian stop seeking gender validation from a society that was never made to serve them. 

Although these powerful forces of oppression exist, loving yourself as a trans person- and loving those around you, protecting the natural world, and standing up for what you believe in- can save the day. That’s the kind of story we wanted to tell.

Wrap-up

There’s a lot more I could write, but this has already gotten really long (sorry!) so I’ll wrap it up here. 

Learning how to write a visual novel in terms of technical skill (how to depict events on-screen, how long each line should be) as well as in terms of writing skill (how to outline the game, how to plan visual assets) has been a massive undertaking for me. 

Writing Breathless Winds has been a big challenge but also deeply rewarding, and all of your support has made the experience even more wonderful. Thank you for reading and thank you for supporting the game!

[ginevrapng]

𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: fwb!james potter x reader

word count: 2.1k words

(18+ / contains sexual content - fingering)

you and james have no official title, you don't even know if you'd consider yourself friends but you makeout a lot. you're very different people, so different in fact, james is the the popular gryffindor chaser trouble-maker prankster, while you're completely opposite, not a trouble maker and definitely not popular or well known.

whenever james sees you he walks the other way, you'd be lying if you said a bit of you didn't hurt when it happened but it's not like you don't understand it, if james in public ever came up to you in front of your friends and started talking to you your friends would definitely have a lot of questions the difference is you don't walk the other way when you see him and pretend not to know he exists.

you come from completely different social circles yet you can't stay away from him. you know you probably should. none of your friends would understand it, to them they see the arrogant james potter who use to bully first years and sometimes you think it would be easier if you saw that too.

instead though you see the cocky james potter in class who borderlines on arrogant like it's a sport, always supporting a cocky grin or smirk to go along with it. you see the james potter that laughs so loud everyone looks at him and he doesn't even care that everyone's watching. james potter with all his messy black hair that he must never style and muscles from quidditch that you definitely haven't spent years admiring. james who half the time is out of breath running from or to something, still laughing and smiling, calling his friends stupid names and pushing the teachers patience. james who doesn't terrorise first years anymore but still has a bone to pick with anyone that hurts his friends or anyone who goes against all things he considers good. the james potter who kisses you like you're the only source of oxygen he has, james who compliments you every five seconds you're next to him and always puts a smile on your face.

you're on your way to potions when you're suddenly getting pulled into a tiny dark cupboard. before you can even scream and get your wand out you smell the familiar scent of petrichor and pine and broom polish and a scowl appears on your face as you turn around as much as you can in this small space to face your kidnapper. "i have potions potter, i'm going to be late."

"i haven't seen you in ages though." he whines and grabs hold of your hand holding it in his before lowering his voice, "i've missed you."

your face heats up at his words and his close proximity, "i really can't i have potions james. i really want slughorn to like me, i wanna get in the slug club."

james leans even closer to you so that you can feel his breath against your face and can feel the frames of his glasses slightly pressing against your forehead. "i know slughorn already likes you, lily told me. i'm sure you'll get invited. please," he puts his hand under your shirt and holds onto your soft waist and draws patterns on it with his callus thumb that he has from playing quidditch, "i need you."

you're so close to giving in. "of course evans would have told you that."

james moves his hands further up your body. "aw, you jealous love?" he teases with a smirk on his face.

"no potter, that would mean i'd actually have to care and i-" your sentence is cut off with a whimper when james reaches your breasts and gently circles around your nipple. "you're such a tease potter."

james looks down and you with hooded lust filled eyes before whispering in your eye, "yeah but you like it."

you refuse to answer and james grins, still playing with nipple. you push your body against him more trying to get more stimulation, you know what he wants, what he always wants. "please james," you whimper. you've feel like he's been doing this forever and you're on the edge of tears by now and you know he can do a lot worse, you hope he'll just give you what you want.

you start undoing the buttons on your shirt before he pushes your hands away and starts undoing it himself, "it's okay, i've got you." you know that his way of saying that he won't tease that, that he'll give you what you need, he feels kind of guilty for making you miss potions so he'll make it up to you. he wants you just as bad, even more. he places a delicate kiss of your shoulder, "missed you love."

after your shirt is off it starts getting heating. more heated than ever.

you're already cramped as is but james is pushing you against the wall and he's almost feral with how heavenly you feel against him. james is gripping your plush waist so hard that it'll bruise.

you would normal feel self conscious shirtless with a guy but with james that goes away as you get a confident boost when you see him fest his eyes on your body. his hands are placed on your love handles where he can feel your plush pudgy skin in his hands.

he's placing hickeys down your neck which is unspoken rule of you two not to do but right now you don't care and afterwards you find that makeup will cover them up anyway. it just feels so good and james desperately needs you to remember him. if you don't see each other for a couple weeks again he wants to make sure you know that he's the one that makes you feel good, a deterrent on any guy who comes close to you and a reminder of him every time you look in the mirror.

you're trying to be quiet, you have no idea if james casted a silencing spell but moans and groans and whimpers escape from your mouth every time his lips aren't pressed against yours, you're biting down on your own trying to keep from drawing attention.

james' face is buried in the crook of your neck, "god, you feel so soft. so fucking good." his breathing heavy like he's trying to control himself. you're getting fuzzy as he's kissing every inch of you and playing with your breasts.

"more," you breathily say, your pupils dilated and you're out of breath. james immediately stops and pulls away from you, causing you to whimper again from the loss of contact.

"what'd you say?" his voice hitches as he looks at you, trying to keep eye contact with you to make sure he's understanding. you've never gone further than this.

"please jamie." his gulps. he doesn't say anything for a moment, like he's frozen in time, he's contemplating something. you're about to ask him again, getting more needy.

"yeah. yeah. i can do that." he grins at you. "what'cha need love?" he doesn't know what to expect. he didn't expect some eloquent essay but he did expect some kind of full sentence.

he didn't get though, all he got was you holding his hand, "fingers." his eyes widen at your simple ask and he's so very close to having a heart attack or having his heart burst out of his chest, he didn't know which one, he couldn't tell.

"okay love, i've got you. need your skirt off, is that okay?" you hurriedly nod your head and james hopes that he's the only person who's ever made you feel like this.

he knows he doesn't really need your skirt down but he so desperately wanted to see all of you, he's never seen you completely naked before and he's close to drooling as your skirt pools to the floor and your thick chubby thighs are on display. he forgets what he was doing as he admires you, every inch of you, and god does he want to fuck your thighs. he shakes his head to get the idea out of his head as he feels you pull on his arm. he smiles sweetly at you before kissing you gently, you and james have never kissed like this before, you've never kissed anyone like this before, soft and gently, he's brushes your cheek with his thumb so delicately that it makes you need him more before he kisses you one more time.

james grazes his fingers over your knickers and blushes, "you're so wet." he says in awe.

"f' you," you whimper and look up at him.

he groans and pushes your underwear to the side. "pussy's so pretty love." he tells you while his fingers rub at your clit. you have no control over the noises that you're making at this point. he's complimenting your body while you're falling apart on his fingers.

you want more and james can tell by the way you grab hold tightly on his arm and at the same time his hair. you've always stayed away from touching his unruly hair, the main reason being that up close it looks so soft and you worry touching it would cross a boundary but now you're pulling his hair and scratching his arm without abandonment.

james coos at you, all the while his eyes are still wide and his breathing is just as heavy as yours. "i know love." he plunges two of his fingers in your pussy while still playing with your clit. james is kissing you all over and he couldn't help himself but bite one of your tits causing you to squeal which makes him chuckle.

he knows the signs, he's been with girls before so when you start clenching around his fingers he knew you were close, it makes him dizzy knowing that he's the one who's doing this to you and he unconsciously starts rutting his body against yours.

"jamie- i"

"i know love, let go for me."

everything went white and your knees gave way. you felt fuzzy. luckily james was there to catch you, and made sure you didn't fall down, when you blinked a few times and came back to reality james was still gripping onto your waist with a huge grin on his face.

"was that good?"

"shut up potter." you mumble while looking away from him.

james gleefully chuckles, "i'm going to take that as a yes."

you reluctantly look at him, "you know it was good, i don't want to inflate your huge ego more than it already is." his grin widens as he looks at you.

your eyebrows furrow and james goes into panic mode, "what's wrong? was that not okay? did you not want to do?" you press your finger against his lips. he calms down knowing that you're not angry because this is definitely not angry behaviour from you. once you ignored him for a whole month, even though he tried to talk to you so many times, because one of your friends was a victim to one of his pranks..

"you didn't... you know.." you say quietly, embarrassed that you acted so selfish.

his face heats up, "it's okay, if you hadn't finished when you did i'm sure i would have come in my boxers and god that would of been embarrassing."

you burst out laughing and james feels so much pride because of it. "you got to see me completely naked yet you still had your shirt and trousers on, that's completely unfair."

james smirks as he wonders if you want to see him naked just as much as he wanted to see you, "that's just how the world works love."

you cross your arms and pout, "next time, james."

james thinks he might die, did you just suggest that next time you'll return the favour.

he has to tell you. he has to tell you. i love you. i love you. i love you.

the bell rings.

"holy shit, i'm going to be late for herbology, i can't miss another class. see you later james."

you run out the door and the words die at the top of his tongue.

you haven't seen james in a week, you've both been busy. you successfully make it to potions today and you're brewing amortentia. you smell petrichor, pine and broom polish.

[familyvideostevie]

october thirtieth

day thirty: james potter you find a photo of the two of you in james's pocket | established relationship, fluff | 1k

“James, have you seen my lipstick?”

No reply. You check your makeup bag one more time but can't find it.

“James!”

“What?”

His voice is muffled. You leave the bathroom and follow it, finding him standing in the closet frowning at his dress shirts. You press into his side, wrapping yourself around his bare torso. “Your face is going to stick like that if you're not careful.”

He drags his hand up and down between your shoulder blades. “I have to be the best-dressed bride of a vampire out there, darling. You know that.”

Silly, silly man. The event of the evening is Halloween-themed drinks at the popular bar on the high street. You had to book a table and everything and James has been looking forward to it all month.

He came up with your costumes: you, a dangerous and beautiful vampire, and him, your willing and handsome bride.

“Well, best of luck to you. Have you seen my lipstick? The red one?”

You need it to draw the punctures on his neck and lines of blood from the corners of your mouth. James pulls himself from your hold and selects a shirt, finally, buttoning it up halfway and messing with his hair in the mirror.

“I don't have it, darling,” he says.

You sigh. Easily distracted, this one. “I gave it to you the other night to hold.”

He snaps his fingers. “So you did. It must be in my jacket pocket.”

“Which one?” You swear James has more clothes than you.

“Which jacket or which pocket?”

“James.”

He winks at you, glasses flashing. “Brown jacket, not sure which pocket.”

You leave him to his fussing and find it hanging on the hook in the entryway.

The lipstick is not in the right pocket or the left. You hope he's not lost it because it's a great color and you really don't want to have to draw the blood on in purple, or something, but then you feel something lipstick-shaped in the breast pocket.

“Jackpot,” you mutter. You pull the tube from the pocket but out with it comes a piece of paper.

It's creased and wrinkled, as if it's been handled many times. You unfold it and —

Oh. You think you say that out loud.

It's you and James. A photo from ages ago. Years, actually. It's you two on the night you met. A party of Lily's, something she did often in those days to bring people together, and this one was a game night. You and James had been paired up for charades and you'd absolutely crushed the competition. You remember feeling like you could read each other's minds.

In the photo you're holding the trophy — a tiny, plastic thing Lily had bought at a discount store — and you're smiling so wide you can see all of your teeth. James has his arm slung around you and he's looking right at you instead of at the camera.

His expression shocks you. You've seen hundreds of photos of the two of you together where he's got this look on his face, the one that you know to be love. And in the photo you've just found, one of the first day you met, he's looking at you the same way. Like he's in love.

“Darling?” he calls. “Did you find it?” he wanders down the hall, fully dressed, and you turn to him.

“Yes,” you say, breathless. “James, why do you have this in your jacket?”

“Hm?” He slides his hand over your hip and leans in to look, face brightening when he see's what you've found. “Have you not seen this before? I suppose I've kept it in there since Lily gave it to me.”

You just stare at it.

“God, it's so obvious I was gone for you,” he sighs.

You turn your head so you're looking at him, so close you could count his eyelashes. “You were?”

“Darling, I was utterly ass over tit for you from the start. In love the second you opened your mouth.”

“Don't be silly, James.”

He looks offended. “No, it's true! I remember the whole thing. I was late and you'd been freed up from work at the last minute so we didn't have partners when Lily said to make teams. And you looked at me and said, 'You better be good at this, because I am.' And I said, 'I will win you this if it's the last thing I do.'”

“Which was a bit dramatic,” you mutter.

“And you didn't even tell me your name until we won.”

“That is how it went, I suppose. You really fancied me because I was a bit overcompetative?”

James snorts. “Come on, love, is that really so hard to believe?”

You look at the picture again. It isn't, considering you were similarly smitten that night, but it's still a bit like a fairy tale.

“No, I guess not.”

“I mean, who wouldn't fall in love with you at first sight?” James presses a kiss to your temple. “You're funny —” he kisses your brow “— sweet —” your nose “— lovely —” your cheek.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say, shoving him off. “We need to finish getting ready, James, or we'll be late.”

He bares his neck for you. “Blood me up, baby.”

You laugh, slip the photo back into his jacket, and drag him back to the bathroom. “You're so weird.”

“And you looooove it.”

“You're the one who carries that photo round all the time!”

Just saying it makes your heart swell. It's a small thing in the grand scheme of your relationship. James shows you he loves you all the time — in his words, his actions. The way he looks at you. How he always buys your favorite flavor soda at the shop when he sees it. The way he knows how to wake you from a nap without startling you. His touch in a crowded room and his gaze when he senses you need something.

So, yeah, a photo in his jacket pocket is nothing, really. But he clearly looks at it often and thins about that first night.

You lean in and kiss him without warning. He makes a surprised noise but leans into it, hand cupping the back of your neck. Maybe it's alright if you're a little late.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[enilehtnorevol]

do you have any recommendations to help improve anatomy skills? i wanna improve but i legit haven’t improved for years and anatomy is my worst enemy 😭 i like art like yours and others and somehow the anatomy always seems so good so i was just wondering if you had any suggestions

i'm trying to figure out how to answer those types of asks for ages because most of my 'anatomy skills' come from observation and there's not much of what i've been actually actively learning i'm sorry 😭

doing studies works great but if you never tried and are not sure where to start find some artists who do them or better artists who explain how to. i wanted to suggest tb choi but she seems to delete everything at least from public access. found cosmic spectrum art on yt, a lot of great stuff, just the kind i'm talking about, but of course you can look for someone else yourself

a book on the topic i would certainly recommend is 'taco - point character drawing' thought everyone most likely know this one already. looks simple and doesn't overwhelm with walls of text and half of the book being dedicated to each separate bone and muscle, but actually very informative (nonetheless having a general understanding of how skeleton looks and works will always be helpful). i can recommend something more advanced if you're interested

and if anyone wants i could probably make some little tutorials like the one with face proportions but i need more specific requests for this

[inthelittlewood]

Hey, I just wanted to know if you've see the Gemmyct AU of 3rd life circulating Tumblr? I've seen a lot of the community really fall in love with the designs, and personality's of said characters. I don't know exactly where it originated, but I believe the art began with @localwheel , @cherrifire , and @chrisrin. But anyway, I think you might really like it, and that it deserves a little bit of higher up recognition. I hope you have a lovely day, and thank you for reading this!

(This may come across very differently, but I don't mean for this to come across as bossy or anything... sorry if it did, its my first time asking a creator anything :] )

I have! I don't know much about it just yet, but I've seen a bunch of stuff Cherri has made around it and a few of Chris' posts too

I know it's inspired by Steven Universe so I've actually started watching that so I can understand it a bit more. It's a show I've been meaning to check out for ages as people always rave about it, so this is the perfect opportunity

Also don't overthink things, there was nothing bossy about your question. It was just a recommendation and politely worded 👍

I'd love to try and draw something of me/Ruby when I've got my ipad back. The SU style seems more beginner friendly than most toon aesthetics

[starry-bi-sky]

Part SEVEN of "Clone Danny"

Red Robin, Danny recognizes, steps away from him as he sits up. "My name is Phantom," he signs, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes. (From Red Robin's perspective, it looks like he has no eyes. There lacks his signature green glow.) "I'm not a gang member, just an out-of-town vigilante."

Red Robin frowns at him, an uncertain grip on the bō in his other hand. "Phantom?" He repeats, no lacking amount of suspicion in his voice. "How can I believe that?"

Right. Yeah, okay, that's fair. Danny shrugs at him, and slumps against the wall. "Google search?" He gestures, he's been out in the daytime before and he's seen the news articles about him.

Red's eyes narrow at him and Danny simply draws his knees up and faceplants into them, half-listening to Red's murmurs into his comm while also trying to get some extra-shut eye.

("Oracle, can you pull up anything on a vigilante named Phantom? The guy here is claiming to be one." Tim says.

"On it."

"Is this Phantom wearing a white mask?" Bruce asks, his voice gruff like an aftershock. "There's a vigilante who shares the same name, but he resides in Illinois."

"Is this guy from that Amity city you visited ages ago?" Says Tim, before shaking his head. "Don't answer that. Yes, he's wearing some freaky mask. I said it reminded me of Hood's helmet for a reason."

"I've got something," Oracle interrupts, "Bats' right. as usual. The Phantom of Amity Park, not much stuff of this guy but he's only been out for over a year. Apparently, his rogues' gallery consists of ghosts."

"Oh great.")

"Look tell the Batman that I'm sorry for trespassing on his turf," He signs irritably when Red Robin eventually starts talking to (re: interrogating) him again. "It's not like I want to be here."

"How did you get in Gotham anyways?" Red Robin questions, batman was on his way to help deal with the situation but Tim doubted he wouldn't get caught up on the way with dealing with petty crime. "Your turf is nearly a thousand miles away from here."

"Two words." Danny deadpans, "Teleport ghost." (Red Robin winces sympathetically.) "I'm keeping this bastard in the thermos for a month for this alone."

(Danny was ignoring the slow-choking anxiety growing in his lungs over how he was gonna get home. He never takes his phone when he goes out, the risk of breaking it was too high. He had no way of contacting anyone to get him home.)

(He swallows the growing lump in his throat, and buries the feeling in the back of his mind.)

"Thermos?"

Danny unclips his Fenton Phantom Thermos off from his belt loop and shows it to Red Robin. "My ghost-catching device," He says with one hand, tilting it carefully for Red to inspect. "I wish I could say I made it, but its a FentonWorks invention."

(He wasn't sure if it was a smart idea to say who it belonged to, but saying it wasn't his probably loosened up any tracks on him, right?)

"Do you work with these Fentons, then?" Red asks, and something dark and shadowy flickers from the corner of Danny's eye. He glances over, and sees nothing, and his hackles raise.

(Either that was Batman, or a ghost, or Danny's mind playing tricks on him. He couldn't feel his ghost sense building in his throat, so he decided it was either the latter of the former.)

Danny snorts, quiet and gruff. "No." He clips his thermos to his belt again, stifling a smile on his face. "The Fentons hate me actually, I prevent them from catching ghosts themselves. Their son gives me their tech."

He had a cover story, so he might as well stick with it, right?

Batman shows up at that moment, appearing atop the little roof where the door is, and giving Danny a heart attack when he speaks in his low, rumbly voice like thunder rolling in, "Why would they hate you for that?"

Danny shoots up to his feet with a startled yell in his throat, clutching his chest as he whirls around and looks up. He nearly runs into Red Robin, and signs a few choice swears at the Bat.

"wow you're scarier in person, asshole."

"you didn't answer my question."

"Of course I didn't, you scared me." and Danny takes a trembling step back when the Batman jumps down and lands on the roof in front of him. He's faced ghosts before, but somehow the living is always scarier.

"But, um, the reason is a bit.. complicated, I guess." He says, fingers beginning to shake as his adrenaline wears off. God is he tired. He wants to go home. "The Fentons are the local ghost hunters and local crazies. I don't know if I can call them mad scientists because they're harmless to the living."

"But they're extremely anti-ghost. I've heard from their son multiple times the very unethical things they would do to ghosts if they got their hands on one."

Danny 'talks' a little more before calling it quits, even telling Batman that he can't tell him more without putting his identity at risk.

Plus, its getting harder and harder to hide his bone-deep exhaustion and his growing fear of being stranded in the most dangerous city in America with no way home.

"I would love to tell you more, believe me I'm dying to." Danny signs, shaky sarcasm dripping from his fingers. His hands are visibly trembling and he's withholding a slowly growing panic attack. "But I would like nothing more than to figure out a way to get home."

"Do you have no one to contact?"

"Sort of. But only one of them could probably come get me and get me back to Amity by sunrise. And I have no phone."

That one person being Ellie.

=====

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank @sara0055 @blusunkhild @letmesayfuxk (?) @latheevening226 @tkiesai @rosedasy @meira-3919

[room-surprise]

Addendum to Dungeon Meshi Age Calculations, and Thistle's age estimate...

This is sort of a sequel to two posts of mine, How to Calculate Comparative Ages of DM Characters and How Old Is Thistle?

I've seen some people claim that the age scale between elves and tall-men where elves age 5 times slower than tall-men can't be used accurately for elves that are very young or very old. I've also seen people claim that the half-foot age modifier is wrong.

I'm not a mathematician, but so far I have not seen any actual evidence that the 5:1 scale doesn't work, and a good amount of proof that it does, and I think the confusion about half-foot aging is a translation issue.

Please keep in mind, information about Marcille's age does not apply to any of this, because [SPOILERS].

WHAT ABOUT VERY YOUNG ELVES?

Here's something we know about the babies from the different races, which comes from Ryoko Kui's blog:

1 year old elven, dwarven and gnomish babies can only lay on their backs. Tall-man and half-foot 1 year olds can both stand, though the tall-man is not as good at it as the half-foot.

This lines up with real-world development milestones, human children can usually stand on their own somewhere between 9 to 12 months. Half-foots age faster than tall-men, so it makes sense that the half-foot would look more balanced and steady while standing.

A 2 year old elven baby has just gained the ability to sit up, while the babies of other races are walking or running. Normal human babies can sit up with help at around 5 months.

2 divided by 5 equals 0.4, that's 40%, and 40% of one year equals 4.8666666 months. That's 5 months.

I think it's very likely Kui herself is using the 5:1 ratio in order to calculate her elven ages in order to get this very specific 5 month developmental milestone to line up this way. So we can confirm that any elf over the age of 2 years old should have an age that is calculable with the 5:1 ratio. I also think it's not crazy to assume Kui may be using the numbers I calculated in my age post to work out other character's ages as well, since she's clearly doing it for the elves.

LET'S TEST IT WITH HALF-FOOTS

Human children learn to run between 18 and 24 months, so around 2 years old, like the chart shows us. 2 years divided by the half-foot age ratio (1.1428571429) equals 175% because they grow faster than tall-men.

175% of 2 years is 1277.5 days... Which is 3.5 years. So a 2 year old half-foot has the maturity of a 3.5 years old human child. 3 years old is when human children are expected to run and jump easily, and climb stairs without help.

That sounds about right to me, since the half-foot child in the drawing looks like they can confidently run around without balance issues. One foot is off the ground, and their arms are pulled in closer to the body than the tall-man child's arms.

Meanwhile the tall-man child is more unsteady, both feet firmly planted, standing with their arms held out as far as they can go to help with balance.

DOESN'T 29=50 FOR HALF-FOOTS?

Kui says that Chilchuck would be about 50 if he were a modern day human (which he isn't, he's a medieval half-foot), and then she says that half-foots in the time of Dungeon Meshi only live to be about 50 years old on average.

I'm pretty sure she's telling us that if Chilchuck were a human in our world, he'd be past middle-aged, and then for contrast, she tells us that most half-foots in Chilchuck's world die by age 50. Not that Chilchuck's 29 years is equivalent to a 50 year old modern human.

Chilchuck is 29 years old, and he had his first child at age 13. The average age of death for half-foots is 50, then that means middle-aged for a half-foot is 25.

Chilchuck is 4 years older than that, which makes Chilchuck past middle-aged. It does not make him developmentally the same as a 50 year old modern human though.

Using the numbers I've worked out, a half-foot would be developmentally 50 years old when they're 44.

Kui says that although Chilchuck wants to retire from going into the dungeons, if he did, it would be premature... Just like it would be premature for a 33 year old to retire.

In the real world retirement ages are connected to the average age of death. As that number goes up, so does retirement age. Because modern humans live until around 72, as a global average, retirement age is somewhere in their 60s.

So since half-foots average lifespan is 50, a normal age for Chilchuck to retire would be in his 40s.

WHAT ABOUT OLD ELVES?

The average age of death for tall-men is 60, however we know that tall-men can live into their 80s because Marcille's father did.

The average age of death for elves is 400, but they can live up to 500 years.

There's no reason to think that DM tall-men aren't like real world humans, and can't live into their 100's if they are lucky and wealthy enough. Even in the real medieval period, some people lived into their early 100's.

The thing that makes average death ages low in real life is usually issues like high infant mortality, starvation, war, lack of medical care, and lack of sanitation.

In the real medieval period, the average age of death was 30 not because people dropped dead at 30, but because SO MANY children died young that it pulled down the average. In medieval times, if you managed to live to 25, you had an average of 23 more years of life ahead of you, which is 48 years old.

I think Kui raised the average death age to 60 for tall-men to account for the fact that even tall-men have access to more advanced medicine and healing magic in DM, so infant mortality isn't as high and the adults live more than a decade longer.

The elves naturally have a longer lifespan since they live 5 times slower than tall-men. However they also probably have a far more advanced society than any of the other races in Dungeon Meshi. Fleki calls the Eastern Continent a "primitive land", and it's mostly populated by dwarves, gnomes and tall-men.

If elven culture was developmentally the same as tall-man culture, I bet elves would only live to about 300, which would be 60 for them, maturity wise.

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

80x5 is 400. That seems correct to me, a 400 year old elf would be considered elderly and getting close to the end of their life. An 80 year old tall-man would be considered VERY old, having lived past average expectations... But those expectations, as I said before, are based on poor living conditions, not biological certainty. 100x5 is 500, so the two maximum ages (100 and 500) also line up when you use the 5:1 ratio.

POSSIBLE MAXIMUM AGES FOR OTHER RACES

Using the same math, if gnomes and dwarves had the same culture as tall-men, they'd only live to be 150-ish instead of 240/200...

This is only a theory, but dwarvish and gnomish maximum possible ages should probably be around 250, if you multiply their age modifier (2.5) x100 like I did with the elves.

The current difference between their average age of death is probably attributable to lifestyle and cultural differences (gnomes use a lot more magic, and so they live longer).

Then, just to do the rest of the races:

Half-foots and orcs theoretical maximum age is 88. Ogres theoretical maximum age is 94. Kobold theoretical maximum age is 81.

Keep in mind, these numbers are based on the idea that "around 100 years old" is the oldest a human being can get. The oldest human to ever live survived until they were 122 years old... But obviously that is rare, and happened in the modern era.

Point is, there's wiggle room at the top end of the age limit, for some of the races that may be a matter of extra days or months, for others it could be an extra decade or two. But I'm using 100 for simplicity's sake.

Sorry for the long post! I hope this answers people's questions, and if I messed something up let me know!