#seems like my drawing style is fluid

[starvoidwolf]

Macaque doodle

[rika-mmendmethings]

Risqué Sketches | Sylus

Summary: You're an artist at heart with your boyfriend, Sylus, mostly being your choice of muse. What happens when he comes across a sketchbook that holds your innermost desires and has provocative drawings of him?

Warning(s): explicit language, profanity, first-time, reader is implied to be female, innuendos, cunnilingus, bodily fluids, unprotected sex (tap it, guys), p-in-v intercourse, dirty talk, use of pet names like sweetie and kitten, cervix fcking (I am bad at tagging, hope you get the point)

Word count: 4.5k

Now playing: 2 on by Tinashe

Notes: My first work here ♥ This is the aftermath of my ovulation phase starting.

The sound of your 4B pencil gliding over the smooth, pristine paper broke the silence of the maroon room. You began with a simple circle, which, with a few deft strokes, morphed seamlessly into a diamond-shaped face. Next, the sharp outline of the nose, followed by the delicate contours of the ears and neck, all took shape under your skilled hand.

But it was the eyes that always turned out to be your favorite subject to draw. Their deep, ruby tincture was intoxicating, always pulling you in whenever they met your gaze. In this sketch, his eyes were half-lidded, revealing only a narrow strip of that vibrant red, while his lips curved into a smirk that was borderline dangerous.

With a few final flourishes, you put your pencil away, now staring at the image of your boyfriend, Sylus — shirtless, toned, and looking like he might chain you to his bed if you gave your consent. You held the notebook close to your chest and squealed, face tinted with both embarrassment and ardor.

You were an artist at heart, preferring a more characterized style that personified a person’s personality. People were always your favorite things to draw. There was always something satisfying about being able to perfectly capture a person with simple lines and colors. 

Over the course of your relationship, Sylus quickly became your muse — the subject you constantly returned to in your art, the person you longed to capture with perfect precision. As your feelings for him deepened, so did your need to render every detail of him flawlessly. This longing intensified the moment he asked you to be his girlfriend.

What had once been innocent sketches of his sharp, piercing eyes and his Cheshire grins gradually evolved into something more risque, something undeniably charged with desire. Pages filled with nothing but images of a shirtless Sylus, drawn with a quiet intensity, reflected your secret longing for him to take control.

This secret collection of yours was hidden inside the drawers of your study back in your home, only retrieved in the quietest, loneliest hours of the night when the urge to indulge in your fantasies grew too strong to resist. You were far too embarrassed to let anyone, especially Sylus, see these drawings. If he ever discovered what you’d sketched in the privacy of your thoughts, you feared he would end things without a second thought.

So, it was a wonder why you'd carelessly left the sketchbook in your small overnight bag, uncharacteristically exposing it as you prepared to stay at his place. It was an oversight, a lapse in judgment — one that could easily spiral into disaster if you weren’t careful. And yet, some invisible pull urged you to pull it out and continue your drawings. After all, Sylus was out finishing the last deal of the day, and he’d be back at exactly 11:15. It was only 10:30, surely you had a little time to lose yourself in idle fantasy, right?

Your eyes traveled back down to your newest sketch, your brain trying to decide whether or not you were disgusted with yourself or if you should be pleased. The drawing itself seemed alright; the anatomy was near perfect, but the actual content…well…It felt sinful, like drinking too much bubbly soda that left a deep hole in your stomach and spoiled your dinner.

As your eyes drilled into the drawing before you, your mind split into a battlefield of guilt and curiosity, dissecting the morality of repeatedly sketching your boyfriend  — especially the more risqué ones. You questioned yourself, wondering if your art had crossed a line when, suddenly, the door to your shared bedroom opened with a soft creak. You froze as if caught in the headlights of a car, watching helplessly as Sylus walked in, unfastening his cuffs.

"Beloved, I’m home," he announced, his voice light with a relaxed smile. "The diamond deal with Chang wrapped up rather quickly, so I came home and picked up some food for us."

Every profanity you’d ever learned rushed to your tongue in an explosive wave — cursing your bad luck, the spiteful gods, Chang the businessman, and most of all, yourself. This was it. The disaster you had been silently fearing. You should’ve thrown the sketchbook into the fireplace the moment you realized you’d brought it with you during your weekends with your lover—or better yet, you should never have sketched it at all.

You hastily shoved the indecent drawings beneath the maroon sheets, your fingers trembling. "T-that’s… wonderful," you managed, your voice unsteady as you fought to maintain composure. One wrong move, one slip-up, and Sylus’s razor-sharp instincts would catch on. "Welcome home, my love."

You forced a smile, as calm as you could muster, but Sylus’s unblinking gaze made the effort feel hollow. His smile faded into something more inquisitive, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. With a fluid motion, he removed his blazer and tossed it onto his mahogany armchair. Then, he took a few steps toward the bed, leaving the food untouched on the desk, its rich aroma floating through the air and teasing your senses.

"Wh-what’s up?" You tried to laugh, but it came out half-hearted, your words trailing off in the air as his presence seemed to loom over you, intensifying the tension. Did he really have to stand above you like that? Like a cat toying with its prey before the inevitable pounce?

“Nothing. I think…I think I just like the idea of coming home to you on my bed like this.” He plopped down onto the bed next to you. “That and you are acting quite peculiar.” 

Oh, Lord.

“O-Oh? I am?” you stammered, inching toward the sketchbook in a desperate attempt to shield it from his view, silently praying to any higher power that Sylus wouldn’t notice its presence. Your fingers crawled toward the book, attempting to cover the glaring "SYLUS QIN, MY BELOVED" label emblazoned on the front.

Yet, despite your silent pleas, fate seemed to have something far less merciful in mind.

Sylus’s gaze narrowed, his eyes tracking your every movement, until they landed on the book — half-hidden but still unmistakable. “Ah, you were drawing,” he observed, his tone smooth and steady. “I don’t recognize that cover. May I see it?”

The sensation in your body was electric, every nerve igniting with panic. It felt as though you were doused in gasoline, and Sylus — ever so calm — was holding the match that would set everything aflame. The heat spread quickly to your cheeks, your throat tightening with the sharp sting of embarrassment. His gaze bore into you as if peeling away every defense you had left. You knew, then, that the longer you hesitated, the more suspicion he would harbor.

“Sketchbook?” you croaked, struggling to regain your composure. “Right, yes, I was just… drawing while waiting for you to get home. Totally normal, nothing you’d really want to see.” You grabbed the pad with frantic hands, clutching it to your chest as though it were the last thing keeping you tethered to reality. Your arms shielded it like an impenetrable barrier, a fortress protecting treasures from a curious and relentless dragon.

Sylus’s lips curved into a faint frown, and with barely any effort, he arched a single eyebrow in disbelief. “That’s nonsense, sweetie,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “I always love seeing your art.”

“I-I really don’t think you’d want to see it,” you stammered, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I mean, the sketches are so rough, they might burn your eyes out. And your eyes are too beautiful to be burned.” You tried to force a laugh, but it felt weak, hollow.

Sylus’s expression hardened into a skeptical frown, his nose scrunching slightly in the way he always did when he wasn’t buying your excuses. And in that moment, you realized — he wasn’t fooled. Not for a second.

Unfazed by your protests, Sylus extended a hand with a swift and decisive motion, reaching for the sketchbook before you could react. Panicked, you scrambled off the bed and hurriedly backed toward the center of the room.

“Beloved, this is nonsense. Why can’t I see your drawings?” Like a predator, Sylus stalked his way towards you slowly yet purposefully.

“Because—!” You blurted out, voice cracking under the weight of your panic.

“Because…?” he prompted, his gaze never wavering, his tone insistent.

He was now mere inches from you, close enough for you to feel the tension radiating from his body, his slight frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

“Because I…” You dragged the word out, trying to buy yourself a moment of clarity. “I want to keep it private?” It was a half-truth, and you both knew it. Sharing your art has always been one of the most intimate ways you connect, a way to reveal parts of yourselves without words. You had never once turned down the opportunity to show him your creations — it was a quiet kind of intimacy you treasured deeply. And now, you were lying to him about it.

The room hung in a thick, charged silence as the two of you locked eyes, a fierce contest of wills. And in that moment, when Sylus’s lips curled into a knowing, almost playful smirk, you realized you had already lost this battle. He knew. He always knew.

“Forgive me for this, alright, sweetie?” he said, his voice low, and before you could react, his arm shot forward with the precision of a strike. He reached for the sketchbook again, and the tug-of-war began in earnest.

You fought back with all your strength, pulling desperately to keep the book out of his reach, but no matter how hard you tried, Sylus’s relentless determination — combined with the strength honed from years of training — meant you were always on the losing side. For every inch you gained, he yanked it back with ease, closing the gap effortlessly.

With one final, forceful tug, you lost your balance and crashed to the carpeted floor, the sketchbook slipping from your hands. Sylus stood over you, his imposing figure casting a shadow as he loomed above. One hand pressed down on the floor beside you, trapping you beneath him, while the other gripped the sketchbook with a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

He pulled away, resting some of his weight on your lower abdomen and rendering you immobile. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but feel a certain way with Sylus on top of you like this. His smirks were always rugged and somewhat sinister in tone, but now, with him on top of you, it felt like electricity shooting through your body and down between your thighs.  

He studied the front of the small binder with a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he glanced at the cover. “Ah, I see why you didn’t want to share this with me,” he mused. “A sketchbook full of nothing but me? Kitten, I’m flattered.”

You squirmed beneath him, desperation rising as you tried in vain to stop him. You pleaded and begged, but Sylus — unfazed — hummed softly as he began flipping through the pages. Each turn of the page only seemed to fuel his already growing ego, his confidence swelling with every passing second. With each flip, you felt as though the moments you had left as his girlfriend were slipping away. Time felt like it stretched into eternity, and worse still, you were powerless to stop it.

“I don’t know why you didn’t want to share this with me, kitten,” he continued, his voice light but laden with curiosity. “These are wonderful—”

His words trailed off as his gaze fixed on the next page. You could feel the weight of his body, the tension in the air, and the shift in his expression as his mouth parted slightly, his eyes widening with surprise. A faint blush tinged his ears, and suddenly, the silence in the room became almost suffocating. The air grew thick with something unspoken between you. Another shiver ran down your spine, like the brush of a ghost’s touch, as his intense ruby eyes met yours. You felt yourself becoming dizzy with the force of his stare, a pull so magnetic it made your body freeze, paralyzed by an overwhelming surge of emotion. You closed your eyes to steady yourself, fighting the urge to fall deeper into him.

You waited for him to speak, to say something, but Sylus remained silent, his gaze still locked on you, his fingers idly turning the pages. The only sound was the faint ringing in your ears, the heavy silence amplifying the tension between you both.

“I knew you would think I was disgusting…” you muttered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

Sylus shook his head, his expression softening, his eyes crinkling with disbelief at your accusation. “What? No, no…” he said quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s not that, beloved. This isn’t disgusting in the slightest.” He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. “I was just a little… surprised, my love.”

His finger trailed down your neck to the opening of your shirt, leaving a fiery trail of butterflies in its wake and teasingly playing with the buttons. “I didn’t realize you needed me this badly, sweetie…” He whispered in your ear.

“S-Sylus…”

You shifted around, body suddenly searching - yearning - for something, but you weren’t sure what. It was an exuberant, even wanton, anticipation; a breathless pining that consumed every ounce of your being until your mind became clouded with need. Any previous inhibition or self-doubt you had quickly drifted away.

There was some more shuffling of papers and yet another soft chuckle emanated. “Kitten, if you wanted to know how big I was, you could have just asked.”

He held up another picture from your sketchbook, one where you attempted to draw a fully nude picture of Sylus that ended up being scrapped, the only remnant being the question How big even is he? 5, 6 inches maybe?

Instead of being embarrassed by this though, the comment only furthered your lack of restraint, and you had to slowly rock yourself back and forth against Sylus’s thigh to assuage the increasingly empty pit deep within you. Sylus’s lips pressed against your neck once more, surely leaving marks to remember in the morning.

A small whimper escaped your mouth, his hands wandering up further until they palmed your chest. You allowed yourself to move just a bit faster, only for Sylus’s hands to trail back down and tightly grab your hips, forcing you to remain still.

“Sylus, what the hell!” You whined.

“Patience, sweetie. If you want me to make love to you then you have to calm down, alright?” He turned you around so that you were now face to face and kissed you gently. “This is our first time, after all; I want to do it right.”

He continued to press tortuous open-mouthed kisses down your body, unbuttoning your blouse along the way. “You are so beautiful…” He murmured against your skin.

Your back arched from the hint of pleasure feasting your body, picking away at every last bit of sanity until nothing remained. The comfortable clothes you wore suddenly felt too tight and restricting to breathe.

He pushed you onto the bed so your back was flush against the covers, his frame looming over you, and from the tent of his black slacks, you could tell that your estimation of five to six inches was far off.

“Sylus…I need you…” You panted. “Please”

“And you will have me, sweetie.” He assured, the loving smile he only showed you in full view. “But for right now, I just want you to stay still and be good for me, alright?”

His mouth was back on yours before the words of agreement completely passed your lips, and his arms returned to their place on your cheeks, pressing you closer. He led the kiss this time, his tongue hungrily searching for your own, a groan rumbling low in satisfaction when it met its mark.

His mischievous mouth left yours to press kisses to your jawline, your pulse point, your neck. An involuntary whine left your throat when he found the sensitive spot nestled at the bottom slope into your shoulder, his teeth marking it as his own. “You taste so good, kitten,” he murmured, his assault on the thin skin continuing until you were sure it’d bruise. Despite his task, he didn’t miss the way you shivered at the affectionate moniker.

His tongue was back in your mouth, hands traveling from your throat to your collarbone, shifting around your heaving breasts to toy with your swollen buds. His kisses only paused long enough to rid you of the remaining garment before joining your skin again, traveling down to the hollow of your throat, the swelling skin of your breast, leaving violet blooms in his wake. You were writhing, full of need, your hands grasping desperately at his shirt until he took the hint and shifted it over his head.

Leaning back, he traced the outline of each nipple, moving slowly until he could palm each breast, squeezing slightly. “You’re so beautiful, sweetie,” He sighed, molten gaze focused on the sight of his hands full of you. “I’ve been thinking about how these would feel since forever.”  Thumbs pinched and rolled the tender buds, causing you to keen loudly before he smoothed the hurt, lips coming to pull one peak into his mouth.

His tongue swirled against you, fingers alternating their pinching and pulling until you were whimpering. “Sylus, please,” you cried, a hand coming to tangle in his silver locks, tugging at the roots. He chuckled low against your skin, a devilish sparkle in his eyes as he looked up at you. “Shhh, I’ll give you what you want. Let me enjoy this.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. He was making you crazy with need, taking his sweet time in his torture of your body, and you weren’t sure you’d survive his exploration of you. A lick down your abdomen signaled his ascent, hands trailing down the curve of your pelvis. Bare before him, he admired your form, hands smoothing up and down your thighs. “God damn, you’re fucking sexy. I bet you taste as good as you look.”

Putting a finger in his mouth, you watched helplessly as he suckled the digit, pulling away once It was drenched in his salvia. Electricity raced through your veins when he made sudden contact with your throbbing center, dragging up your slit and pressing against your clit. A loud moan of his name had him grinning, leaning back down until you could feel his warm breath against your cunt. “Is this where you want me?” at your affirmative hum, he nuzzled closer, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe up your sopping core. His movements were slow and skilled, tracing a delicate pattern into your folds until he found the bundle of nerves at the apex. Wrapping his lips around it, he suckled gently, applying pressure until you were crying out for him.

He had you so worked up at this point that it wouldn’t have taken much longer to set you over the edge, his palms keeping you spread as his wicked tongue lashed against your heat. Your hips were undulating against him, hands pulling and tugging his hair as you held him closer. “Fuck, I’m so close, Sylus!” Your eyes rolled back, another moan leaving you. He grunted against you, the vibrations making you shiver. Letting go of your clit with a lewd pop, his fingers trailed up and down your slit, his eyes boring into your own.

A shrill cry left your lips as his efforts doubled, vision blurring with tears as you felt the band in your belly tighten. He had you right on the brink, and you wanted to go over the edge so badly. His fingers were pumping into you wildly, curling to hit that spot that made you see stars, unable to continue forming coherent sentences at his assault. 

The second his lips suctioned back to your throbbing clit you slipped over the edge into orgasm, the white-hot band snapping and blooming from your nerves. Moans tore from your throat, a cacophony of his name. He murmured praises against you, his free hand smoothing circles into your flesh until you came back down, chest heaving. When he was sure it had ended he pulled his fingers out, licking them clean before crawling back over your body. “So good. You are amazing.”

Mouths joining again, he grasped you tight to roll over, switching your positions until you were now straddled on top of his torso. Your hands explored the expanse of him; strong muscles beneath flawless skin, smooth under your fingertips. Shifting your hips, you pressed your dripping heat against his strained erection still painfully hidden in his slacks, lapping up the deliciously low moans he pressed into your mouth. The friction of his pants against your sensitive flesh had you mewling, your lips finally leaving his own to trail messily down his jaw, his neck. Large hands join your own in pulling off the remaining offensive clothing between you, leaving him bare to your greedy eyes. He immediately pressed a reassuring kiss to your lips before grunting, “Hands and knees, sweetie. I'm about to make you see stars in the daytime.”

Shifting below him, you leaned on your forearms until your ass was perched in the air, wet cunt fully on display. A deep growl left his chest at the sight, a hand coming down to slap the flesh presented to him, causing you to yelp. “You’re such a devastatingly good tease, aren’t you?” Another slap resounded in the room, leaving a reddened mark in its wake. “So sexy, and all for me.”

Hips swaying, you taunted him further, the feel of his blunt head toying at your entrance making you whine. “Sylus, please, I need to feel you.” He hummed thoughtfully, continuing the slow drag of his cock against your dripping core. He seemed content in teasing you, enjoying the way you jumped when he brushed your sensitive clit before diving down to catch at your ready hole and sliding his cock to saturate your arousal. He stuttered, a low moan leaving his lips and sending a shiver down your spine as his palms returned to the flesh of your ass. “God, I think I might die.” 

His descent into you was slow, your walls slowly adjusting to his girth to welcome him deeper. You pleaded, “Move, Sylus. I need you to mov—”

An urgent thrust cuts off your words, a gasp tearing from your throat instead. You felt unbelievably full, the slight sting from the stretch quickly ebbing into a low hum of pleasure, one that radiated down to your toes. Eye closing on instinct, you could feel every inch pulse against your sensitive walls, each of his glides torturously slow. You needed him harder, faster - you needed to fall apart against him.

His thrusts started coming at a rapid speed, his cock slamming home harder each time until the slapping sound of skin was echoing throughout the room. You felt the white hot band of your impending orgasm pull tighter, hands furling into the sheets. You wanted to drag your nails down his skin, to destroy him the way he was destroying you, but his current hold on your body prevented any movement.

It seemed he could read your thoughts because the next moment, you were flipped so that your back hit the bed and you were face-to-face with your lover. He ran a hand through his sweaty locks, briefly explaining, “Wanted to see your face as you came. I want to see you all ruined for me.” You felt a rush of wetness at his words, body already following his directions without a second thought.

The devil of a man just smirked, licking his lips as he positioned himself against your weeping core. Grabbing your knees, he folded them back into your chest before sliding home, the guttural groan leaving his chest in perfect harmony with your own. Arms caging you in, his face was inches from your own as he started pumping into you, crimson eyes taking in each expression of pleasure on your face, each whimper and moan from your throat. A particularly angled thrust had you crying out a garbled form of his name, and it was then he knew he found what he had been looking for.

Dewy lips crashed against your own and you were silenced by the overtaking of his mouth, his tongue seeking yours and stealing your breath. Your cries increased in pitch, the build in your lower gut ready to spill at any moment, and yet he continued to swallow each moan, rubbing your throbbing clit with his thumb. 

It was with his next thrust against the tender spot of your walls that had you shouting out his name, orgasm slamming into you until your eyes rolled back and back arched into a dome. Sylus worked you through the high, his hips rolling and grinding into yours until you were messy, nails leaving an angry trail down the skin of his back and biceps.

He cursed, hiding his face in the crook of your neck before finally spilling inside of you, murmurs of your name pressed into your throat as he rolled his hips through his release. You reveled in its warmth, and after a few more lazy strokes he was collapsing on top of you, cock snuggly resting inside your core.

Heavy breaths were the only sound for the next few moments, a content hum leaving your boyfriend's throat as you raised a hand to stroke lazily through his white locks. Your body was sated, thrumming with a calming glow that had every muscle relaxing and your eyes drooping shut.

Unsure of how much time had passed, you were startled when you felt him pull out slowly, his cum spilling from your core. You pout, reaching out for him. “Where are you going? Come back.”

He chuckled, body leaning over yours once more. “Just going to clean up, kitten, don’t worry.” You watch as his eyes look down at the mess he made of you, his sleepy grin now turning dark as he eyed his release dripping down your thighs. Long digits swiped through the milky substance, his heavy-lidded gaze setting your skin ablaze before he pushed it back inside your abused walls, a small squeak leaving your lips. “Keep that where it belongs.”

You must’ve fallen asleep again because you woke to him wiping your tender sex clean, pulling your body upright to slip one of his t-shirts over your naked form. Allowing yourself to flop back down on the bed, you peered up at him as he slid into the bed beside you, wiggling you into his arms. Your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his neck and his hands found purchase on your waist and nape. He started playing with the hair there idly, causing you to melt against him. Silence enveloped you both and you drifted off to the land of dreams, content in the newfound intimacy that had bloomed between you two.

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[latrespada]

ᯓ ✈︎ the forbidden fruit's temptation

Caleb usually rents private gym space to unleash his evol during workouts; this time, he invites you along. The air feels charged, every glance and movement igniting a tension you can’t ignore. Caleb becomes an unknowing temptation, drawing you in with effortless allure. But as the intensity builds, the tables subtly turn—your desire transforms into a primal need. He remains oblivious, yet you’ve become the predator, ready to claim what you can no longer resist.

lads caleb x reader

warnings : dry humping, blow jobs, teasing, semi-public sex, doggy style, mc is a freak

6.8k words

rated : e

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62513281

A/N: I’ve realized I’m not entirely happy with what I’ve written here. After uploading it and giving it another read, I’ve found that this one isn’t my favorite. I lean more toward dominant Caleb, personally. I think it’s also because I wrote this in portions during breaks at work, so my ideas were a bit scattered each time I came back to it, and it doesn’t feel as cohesive as I’d like.

That said, I hope you all still enjoy it! Caleb is such a frustrating mix of hot, nerdy, and stupid—I can’t help but hate love him

You’re playfully swaying Caleb side to side, arms wrapped snugly around his waist, your chest pressed against his back as he fumbles with the passkey to the private gym space he rented. “How long do you usually rent these for?” you mumble, your voice muffled against the warmth of his shirt, your face nestled in the curve of his back.

“About an hour or two,” he replies, his tone nonchalant. “But since you’re here… just an hour.” The door clicks open, and he steps inside, guiding you along.

The room feels vast and almost empty. Padded floors stretch across the space, with just a bench press, a pull-up bar station, and plenty of open room. You glance around, tilting your head. “Not exactly a variety of options here,” you quip, your fingers brushing his arm as you step forward.

“When you can manipulate gravity,” Caleb says, setting his bag down with a soft thud against the wall, “you don’t need much.” He rolls his shoulders back, stretching his arms wide. His dog tag chain swings with every fluid movement, catching the light as he speaks.

Your gaze lingers on him as he moves, his confidence tangible. “How does that even work?”

“I just increase the gravitational pull,” he explains casually, gripping the pull-up bar with one hand and leaning his weight against it. “Makes everything heavier—no need for extra weights.” His lips curl into a smirk, his tone laced with pride.

Suddenly, you feel it—the subtle but unmistakable shift. The air seems heavier, your steps slightly labored as though gravity has doubled. “You started already?” you huff, adjusting your stance as your legs resist the added weight.

Caleb saunters toward you with ease, his grin widening as he watches you wobble. “This? This is nothing. I went easy on you,” he teases, his hand slipping to your arm to steady you. The warmth of his touch contrasts the firm grip, grounding you against the increasing pull. “I brought you here because I needed extra weight for my calisthenics.”

“Did you just call me heavy?” you gasp, eyes widening in mock offense as you clutch your chest dramatically.

“What? No! That’s not— I mean… it’s about gravitational force, not your—” Caleb stammers, his face flushing as his usually smooth composure crumbles. His words tumble over each other, trying to explain.

You watch him flounder, suppressing a laugh until you can’t hold it anymore. Your fingers reach up to cup his face, gently tilting his head so you can look into his flustered eyes. “Relax,” you murmur, shaking his head lightly, a mischievous grin on your lips. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “I’m messing with you.”

His tense shoulders drop, his embarrassment fading as his hands settle on your waist. His lips curl into a grin, his earlier pride returning as he pulls you closer. “You’re too easy to tease,” you add, your thumb brushing against his cheek.

Caleb leans down, his forehead resting gently against yours, his smirk playful but his eyes warm. “Careful,” he murmurs, his voice low, “teasing me might just mean you end up working harder than you planned.”

You playfully push Caleb’s chest, tilting your head as you pout. “So, what exactly do you need help with?”

“Simple,” Caleb says with a grin. “Having you sit on my back during push-ups with normal gravity wouldn’t do much since, well, you’re pretty light…”

You narrow your eyes, but he quickly raises his hands in defense, laughing. “Hey, I wasn’t done! That’s why I’m cranking up the gravitational pull. Makes it more challenging.”

“Couldn’t you just use a weight plate or, you know, ask someone else?” you counter, folding your arms and trying to suppress a grin.

“Nooo, this is the only way,” he replies, dismissing your suggestion with a casual wave. He drops to the floor, settling into position with a cocky smirk. “Sit.”

You sigh but oblige, carefully lowering yourself onto his mid-back. Adjusting your position, you rest your hands firmly on his upper back and raise your legs to avoid weighing him down unevenly. “You’re like my personal horsie,” you tease, laughing.

Suddenly, the air grows heavier again. You feel the weight pressing down on you as Caleb amps up the gravitational pull. He adjusts his stance, his body tensing beneath you as he begins his first push-up.

The motion is slow and deliberate, his arms trembling slightly as he fights the pull. He manages to push himself back up, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, concern lacing your voice.

He doesn’t answer, his focus entirely on his rhythm. His breaths are steady but labored, his determination evident in every controlled motion.

You decide to stay silent, trusting Caleb’s expertise. This is his evol—his unique strength, his domain. He understands it better than anyone, and your interference might only distract him.

As his movements continue, his pace begins to pick up, smooth and deliberate. Your eyes wander, tracing the way his back muscles ripple with each push-up, the strain and effort becoming undeniably attractive. The sight alone has you mesmerized, but then you feel yourself slipping slightly.

Instinctively, you adjust your position, shifting your weight to sit more securely on his back. The movement causes an unexpected sensation—a jolt that catches you off guard. You pause, confused, but the lingering warmth in your lower abdomen doesn’t go away. Trying to dismiss it, you subtly sway your hips again to readjust, hoping to find a better balance. But instead, the feeling intensifies, spreading through you in a way that leaves your heart racing.

You glance down at yourself, trying to figure out what’s happening, but Caleb’s sudden grunt makes you snap your head back up. For a moment, you panic, wondering if he’s noticed, but his focus remains entirely on his push-ups. He doesn’t seem to have a clue.

Your mind races as you try to remain still, careful not to make your movements too obvious. Whatever this feeling is, it’s building, and you can’t seem to stop it. Caleb shifts his shoulders slightly, rolling them to readjust his stance, completely unaware of the effect his every move is having on you.

You lean forward, resting your upper body against Caleb’s broad back. Your arms are planked on either side of his shoulder blades, offering you support, while your legs hold firmly to his sides. You wonder fleetingly, What if Caleb catches me? But the thought is quickly drowned by the sensations coursing through you.

Tentatively, you let your hips roll against his lower back, testing the movement. It’s subtle and faint, and you’re careful not to disrupt his rhythm. Yet, the motion aligns perfectly with the pace of his push-ups, each rise and fall pressing against your core in a way that’s almost maddening. It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but it feels dangerously close to something deliberate like he’s unknowingly bouncing you against him.

You let out a soft sigh, quickly muffling it by burying your face in your fists and biting down on your thumbs. The friction is faint but electric, teasing at something deeper, more primal. You rock your hips again, just barely, enough to feel the heat in your body rise.

Caleb’s breathing grows heavier but he doesn’t pause or acknowledge your subtle movements. He’s so focused, his body working against the increased gravity, that he’s oblivious to your growing tension.

Your fists press harder against your lips as you continue to move in time with him, the rhythm pulling you deeper into your world, each roll of your hips stoking a fire you’re desperately trying to contain. “Mmnh..” you sigh, quickly covering your mouth hoping Caleb doesn’t hear you. The feeling coursing through you is impossible to ignore. Caleb wouldn’t mind you indulging in this moment—not that he’s even aware of what you’re doing. Slowly, you sit back up, your breath hitching as you adjust yourself. Sliding your hips slightly back, you arch your spine, positioning yourself perfectly. Each subtle movement of your body against his sends a jolt through you, hitting exactly where you crave it most.

Your head falls back, a bitten lip barely stifling the choked giggle escaping you. It’s a mix of sweetness and sin. You let your hips roll faster, rougher, unable to resist chasing the friction. “Faster…” you murmur breathlessly, though Caleb misinterprets your plea as encouragement for him. His pace quickens, his push-ups becoming more forceful. You lower your head, biting back the noises that threaten to give you away, even as the intensity pushes you closer to unraveling.

Your hand grips his shirt tightly while the other drifts down, grazing over your thigh until it reaches the damp heat between your legs. Pressing against yourself through the fabric of your skort, you’re consumed by the warmth and the humid evidence of your desire. The rhythm of Caleb’s movements against you, paired with your own touch, ignites something feral.

A low, husky giggle escapes you, rich with temptation. Memories flood your mind—Caleb’s hands on you during late nights, his lips marking you during stolen moments in cars, the way he claims you without hesitation. Your free hand moves to your chest, massaging yourself before tracing up to grip your own neck. Your fingers mimic his touch, a tease of past pleasures that makes you ache for more.

“Don’t stop… faster,” you moan, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Caleb obeys, increasing his pace again, oblivious to your true meaning. The sudden, harsher movement catches you off guard, and with no solid grip to steady yourself, you slip. The high gravitational pull amplifies the fall, and you hit the floor with a harsh thud.

The impact jolts Caleb, and he immediately stops. He’s over you in an instant, concern etched into his features. “Hey!” he calls out, one hand cradling your cheek while the other quickly checks for injuries. “Are you okay? Was that too much?”

Your body still hums with need, and you laugh lightly, brushing off his worry. “Sorry, I was having fun up there,” you tease, your voice dripping with lingering lust. “Let me get back up.”

But Caleb presses you back down gently, his hand firm against your chest. “I’d rather you stay here for now,” he says, his tone protective but soft. “With the gravity in this room, that fall could’ve hurt you.”

Before you can argue, he adjusts himself into a plank over you, his body hovering close. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of something more in his gaze. “Let’s not have that happen again,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, grounding you in a moment both tender and electric.

The tension in the room is electric, and every movement of Caleb's body over yours fuels the fire simmering within you. His focus is unwavering, his gaze locked straight ahead as he holds his plank. His dog tag swings gently, brushing against your flushed face, a teasing sensation that makes your breath hitch. His lower abdomen hovers just above yours, so close you can almost feel his heat seeping into you. When he shifts to a forearm plank, his body dips closer, his sides grazing yours. Back and forth, regular planks to forearms, the friction, though subtle, is maddening.

Your breathing grows heavier, and your chest rises and falls as you fight to stay composed. Caleb remains oblivious, his sharp features and disciplined posture implying control. You lick your lips, closing your eyes to let your imagination take over.

You picture the Caleb you know in private—the one whose body feels like it was sculpted for your hands, for your lips, for your pleasure. Every detail of him flashes through your mind: the way his skin glistens when drenched in sweat from relentless nights together, how his veins pulse against your touch when he’s deep inside you. You imagine his hands gripping your thighs or binding your wrists, keeping you close as he claims every inch of you.

“Gah… fuck,” you groan softly, the memory and the sensations overwhelming you.

Caleb suddenly pulls back, his face mere inches from yours, his nose almost brushing against yours. “Hey, are you okay? Is the gravity too much?” His voice is rich with concern, his brows furrowed as he studies your face. “You’re flushed.”

You shake your head, desperate to regain control. “Can we do glute bridges?” you blurt out, the words rushed and panicked. You need distance—anything to keep yourself from unraveling completely beneath him.

Caleb blinks, slightly confused. “Glute bridges? That’s not part of—”

“Please!” you interrupt, your voice a little too eager.

He shrugs and rolls off you, lying flat beside you. The space between you offers little relief, but it’s enough for now. Both of you bend your knees, feet flat on the padded floor, arms at your sides with palms facing upward. Slowly, you both raise your hips in unison.

You look at Caleb, at how his hips rise and fall. He’s focused, and disciplined as always, and his movements are precise. But your mind wanders again, conjuring images of you straddling him. You can almost feel the way his hands would grip your hips or wander to your breasts. You picture the way your body would move in perfect sync with his, your back arching, hair falling into your face as he pulls it aside to kiss your neck.

Your fists clench at your sides, and the ache in your core is unbearable. Without thinking, your hand drifts down once more, grazing over your skort. You press against the fabric, the friction a fleeting relief that only deepens your longing. Your imagination spirals, and you imagine Caleb losing his composure, pinning you down, and taking you without hesitation.

Your movements become bolder, your fingers rubbing against the damp fabric as your breaths grow heavier. You bite your lip, muffling the soft moans that threaten to escape. Turning your head toward Caleb, you’re startled by what you see.

His hand is… inside his pants, his movements unmistakable. The rhythm matches your own. Your eyes trail up, locking onto his face. His intense gaze meets yours, and it’s clear—he’s been watching you the entire time.

The air is thick with tension, and neither of you utters a word, your heavy breathing and the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re the first to act, letting instinct take over. One hand stays between your legs, teasing and fueling your desire, while the other reaches for Caleb’s hand, guiding it toward you. Without hesitation, you slip his hand inside your skort, pressing it against your soaked center.

A low moan escapes his lips, his eyes darkening as he feels your warmth. “All this… because of me?” he murmurs, voice tinged with awe and lust.

“Shh,” you whisper, your tone commanding yet laced with seduction. You guide his fingers, showing him exactly how to move, how to make you tremble.

The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by the sounds of your ragged breaths and the wet, rhythmic squelch of Caleb’s fingers exploring you. His other hand remains frozen at his side as if he’s trying to process the shift in power.

Your gaze shifts momentarily, focusing on the far wall as you try to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensations. But when your eyes return to Caleb, his expression shifts—his usual air of dominance is replaced by something raw, something vulnerable. His fiery gaze tells you he’s ready to take charge, to flip this moment back in his favor.

But before he can move, you act. You grab his wrists and pin them down, catching him completely off guard.

His eyes widen, and he exhales sharply. “You’re not supposed to move that fast under this level of gravitational pull,” he says, his voice shaky but tinged with admiration.

You don’t respond. Your hair falls in wild waves over your shoulders as you loom over him, your breath uneven, your pupils dilated. Slowly, you tilt your head up, meeting his eyes with a look that’s both predatory and seductive.

In this moment, you’re no longer the one following his lead. You are ravenous, insatiable, and unyielding. Caleb’s strength, his power, his evol—it’s not enough to hold you back.

He seems to sense the shift completely now. His hands slide up to your waist, his touch firm but reverent. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, his voice husky and low, his composure beginning to crack under the weight of your dominance.

Your lips curve into a wicked smile, and you lean closer, your voice a sultry command. “Listen. Obey. Do as I say.”

Without breaking eye contact, you lift your shirt, exposing your bare chest. Your hands trace over your breasts, teasing them, pinching just enough to make yourself gasp. Caleb watches, his mouth slightly parted, his breathing growing heavier.

His eyes flicker between your face and your body, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved. The roles are reversed, and he knows it. His beloved—once pliant, obedient, and at his mercy—has become the one issuing commands, the one drawing him into the depths of temptation.

“Good boy,” you purr, leaning in closer, your lips brushing against his as you hover above him. “Let’s see how well you can follow orders.”

You shift your position, grinding against the firm bulge beneath you, the friction sending waves of heat through your body. A soft laugh escapes your lips, followed by a gasp as you whisper breathily, “God, you’re so hard.” Your rhythm is unrestrained, each motion rough and desperate, an outward display of your insatiable craving.

Leaning forward, your breasts are now inches from Caleb’s face, fully in his view. His eyes, wide and pleading, glisten with unspoken need. He looks at you like he’s teetering on the edge of surrender, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Keep your hands on my waist,” you command, voice low but firm. “Only on my waist. Don’t move them.”

He nods wordlessly, his restraint palpable, his grip tightening against your waist. You feel his fingers press into the fabric of your skort, his nails threatening to pierce through as he struggles to maintain control. His breathing grows heavier, and soft, choked whimpers spill from his lips.

“Mm… ngh,” Caleb groans, his head tipping back slightly, his composure unraveling.

Your movements become more fervent, your body moving with a raw need to release the tension building within you. Each grind against his clothed erection sends jolts of electricity through your core, and soon you’re teetering on the brink.

Your head tilts back as you moan loudly, surrendering to the intense wave of pleasure washing over you. The explosion of sensation leaves you trembling, but you don’t stop. Instead, you grab Caleb’s dog tag, pulling it sharply as you shift your position. Caleb adjusts instinctively, sitting up slightly as you reposition yourself between his legs.

You recline against the floor, your body stretched out flatly, arms draped above your head in a teasing display of submission. Caleb’s hands remain glued to your waist, his knuckles white from the intensity of his grip. His eyes roam hungrily over your exposed upper body, drinking in every inch of you. He’s utterly captivated, his gaze locking onto your every expression as you shamelessly use him to continue your pleasure.

Without warning, one of Caleb’s hands slips from your waist and moves to your chest. His large palm covers your breast, his fingers kneading with a mix of reverence and desperation.

You slap his hand away with a sharp motion, and your gaze snaps to his, fierce and commanding. The silent message in your eyes is clear: not yet.

Caleb freezes, his hand retreating immediately as his jaw tightens. There’s a flash of something feral in his eyes, but he obeys. He leans back slightly, swallowing hard, his chest heaving as he fights against his instincts to reclaim control.

The tension between you is electric. You smirk, satisfied by his submission, and grind against him once more, savoring the way his body reacts beneath yours. “Good boy,” you purr, your voice dripping with lustful authority, “Now climb over me…”

Your hand presses firmly against Caleb's chest, the warmth of his skin radiating into your palm. "You can only hump," you murmur, your voice thick with amusement, daring him to test the boundaries you've just set. "You can't fuck me."

The air between you is filled with a charged silence, his sharp intake of breath breaking it like a snap of static. His lips curl into a subtle, annoyed smirk as his eyes darken, frustration pooling in their depths. “I don’t demand this much,” he mutters, voice laced with a quiet defiance.

“What was that?” you tease, cocking an eyebrow as your nails lightly graze his skin.

“Nothing,” he bites back quickly, his tone clipped, betraying how close he is to unraveling.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Caleb adjusts your legs, draping them around his waist. His grip tightens on your thighs as if grounding himself, and when he starts to move, his hips roll with unrestrained desperation. The friction of fabric against the fabric, the heat of his body pressed into yours—it’s maddening. His face flushes, a shade deeper with each thrust, his control slipping further away.

You pull him closer, your arms snaking beneath his, fingertips digging into his back. “That's it,” you whisper against his ear, your breath warm and coaxing. "Lose yourself a little more."

His head dips and your noses brush before his lips crash into yours. The kiss is wild, uncoordinated, all hunger and no finesse—a kiss born of need rather than thought. Caleb kisses as if he’s been starved, as if the power you hold over him is suffocating, and the only way to breathe is to taste you.

His movements grow erratic, each thrust harder, needier. The friction has him teetering on the edge, and you feel the subtle quake in his body as he tries—and fails—to keep composure.

Abruptly, Caleb breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged as he stares down at you, his pupils blown wide with desire. Without a word, his hands grip your legs and pull them away from his waist, his touch possessive, his intent clear.

Before you can question him, his mouth is on you again, this time lower. Through the fabric still separating you, he buries his face into the apex of your thighs, inhaling deeply like he’s losing himself in you. His nose grazes against you, his tongue darting out to taste what he can, his growl of frustration rumbling against you as the barrier taunts him.

"Let’s make a deal," he says suddenly, voice thick with agitation. His lips hover, brushing against the sensitive spot he can’t quite reach. "I’ll take care of you with nothing but my tongue. You know how good I am at that, how much you love it when I devour you."

He sits back on his knees, his hands now in his pants, stroking himself as his gaze locks on yours, heated and desperate. "Let me make you feel like you’ve ascended the stars,” he murmurs, his voice trembling, both a plea and a promise.

As he continues to nuzzle his face against the delicate fabric of your skort, rubbing his nose in a deliberate, circular motion, you feel a jolt of pure electricity. His nose presses insistently against your clit, teasing the sensitive peak, sending shivers down your spine. He licks at the fabric, teasing, tormenting, honing in on the sweet spot that makes your knees weak.

You try to resist, to push him away, but your body betrays you. Your muscles tremble, your breath hitches, and a moan threatens to escape your lips. You're drowning in a sea of sensations, every nerve ending screaming for release. The fabric, once a comforting barrier, now feels like a cruel tease, a maddeningly thin veil between you and the full, unbridled pleasure you crave.

Just as you feel yourself slipping, losing all control, you find the strength to act. Your leg shoots out, your foot connecting with Caleb's forehead with a surprising force. He stumbles back, a look of bewildered frustration on his face, his eyes wide and unfocused.

"Nooo," you say, your voice husky with a mixture of amusement and warning. You get on all fours, the cool floor a welcome contrast to the burning heat within you. The air crackles with unspoken desire, the gravity of the moment thick and heavy. Caleb watches you intently, his eyes glued to your swaying hips as you move towards him, a predator stalking its prey.

You crawl slowly, deliberately, your movements a slow, sensual dance. Each inch you cover seems to heighten the anticipation, the tension building to an unbearable crescendo. Caleb watches, mesmerized, his hand tightening around his pants, a desperate attempt to contain the burgeoning erection straining against the fabric.

"How about I fully remove my top," your voice a seductive whisper, "and use my breasts to massage that erection you can't seem to control?" You pause, letting the suggestion hang heavy in the air. You watch as his Adam's apple bobs, his throat working as he swallows hard. You can almost hear the primal growl deep within him.

"Or perhaps," you continue, a playful glint in your eyes, "I could use my mouth. I rarely indulge you in such a manner, it would be a shame to waste the opportunity."

The words hang heavy in the air, a tantalizing promise of things to come. Caleb groans, a low, guttural. His eyes are dark and intense, filled with a raw, primal desire. "Fuck," he breathes, his grip on his pants tightening, his body trembling with the force of his arousal.

You chuckle, a low, throaty sound that echoes through the room. "And before you cave," you tease, your voice dripping with honey, your eyes locked with his. "I'll let you have your way—just for a few precious moments."

As you crawl toward Caleb, the atmosphere is charged with an undeniable tension that seems to thrum between the two of you. Every movement you make is deliberate, and calculated, and it sends a shiver of anticipation through the space. The game is on, and though Caleb might not admit it, he's surrendered to your lead.

You close the distance until he's backed against the bench. With a slow, predatory smile, you see him raise himself onto the seat, his knees parting slightly as if inviting you into his space. His eyes lock onto yours, unblinking, darkened with the weight of his desire. You revel in the moment, knowing you've got him right where you want him—completely at your mercy.

Reaching for the waistband of his shorts, you take your time, your fingers brushing against his skin just enough to send electricity through him. Slowly, you slide them down, exposing the bulge beneath his underwear. Your confidence unwavering as you lean in, letting your lips hover mere inches from the strained fabric.

You begin with the gentlest of touches, your lips pressing teasingly against his erection, the fabric adding a tantalizing layer of separation. Caleb's head tips back as he releases a low, guttural sound, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The power shift in this moment is undeniable—he's completely at your mercy, and you know it.

With a soft giggle, you trace your tongue along the length of him, the heat radiating through the fabric almost scalding against your lips. His dick twitches beneath the thin barrier, a silent testament to the effect you're having on him. Each soft kiss, each feather-light lick, drives him closer to the edge.

Finally, you hook your fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pull them down, freeing him completely. His dick springs to attention, hard and ready, and you take a moment to admire him. Caleb, always so composed, looks utterly undone, his chest heaving as he meets your gaze with a mix of need and adoration.

He reaches out, his fingers tangling gently in your hair, guiding it away from your face. His voice is soft but commanding as he whispers, "Come up here for a second." Obediently, you rise to your knees, leaning in as he places two soft kisses on your lips. The gesture is tender, and intimate—a ritual between the two of you that speaks volumes.

When you pull away, Caleb’s grip on your hair remains firm but not forceful, a reminder of his presence and desire. You lower yourself again, your lips hovering just above his dick. Starting at the base, you let your tongue glide upward, slow and carefully. The light touch is barely there, more a tease of your breath and warmth than anything else, but it’s enough to make his body jerk in response.

A broken whimper escapes his lips, his voice barely audible as he murmurs, "God…" His restraint is fraying, unraveling with every flick of your tongue and every teasing kiss.

You smile, savoring the way his body reacts to your every move. You avoid the head of his dick, purposefully keeping your touches light and lingering along the underside, just enough to make him shudder beneath you. The control is intoxicating, and you relish every moment of his quiet surrender.

As your lips glide over the sensitive head of Caleb’s dick, you tease him with gentle suction, swirling your tongue in slow, deliberate circles. His sharp intake of breath is a symphony to your ears, and the low, strained sigh that follows makes your pulse quicken.

His grip on your hair tightens, the pressure both commanding and intimate, urging you to keep going. You slide your tongue down the underside, savoring the way his body reacts to every touch. Without hesitation, you take him deeper into your mouth, letting his length sink into the wet heat of your tongue and lips.

"Ahh, fuck," Caleb whimpers, his voice shaky and raw. His hand presses against the back of your head, not forcefully, but with enough insistence to hold you in place.

You fall into a rhythm, your mouth working diligently as you hollow your cheeks, creating a firm yet supple pressure. Caleb’s quiet groans and labored breaths spur you on, each sound proof of his unraveling. As your hands join in, massaging the base of his dick, you glance up to see his expression. His teeth are buried in his bottom lip, and his head is tilted back, eyes locked on the ceiling.

You attempt to lift your head, seeking a reprieve to catch your breath, but Caleb’s hand prevents you, his fingers weaving tighter into your hair as he mutters, "No… not… not right now…" His voice is low and breathy, carrying an edge of urgency.

Confused, you push past the feeling, letting curiosity gnaw at the edges of your mind. You continue your motions, his restrained responses both intriguing and frustrating. The tension builds as you take him deeper, your throat protesting as your gag reflex kicks in. The need for air becomes undeniable, but Caleb’s hand remains firm, holding you in place.

Desperate, you dig your nails into his thigh, the sharpness of your touch a silent plea for release.

“Hsss…” Caleb hisses, his gaze snapping down to meet yours with a flicker of discontent in his dark eyes.

Finally, he lets you pull away, your lips flushed and slick with saliva, his length glistening with the evidence of your efforts. You wipe at the corner of your mouth, searching his face for answers.

“What’s wrong?” you ask softly, your voice laced with both concern and confusion.

“Nothing,” Caleb replies, his tone flat, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling. The disconnect is jarring, his usual intensity replaced by something distant, as though his mind is somewhere far away.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words. You tilt your head, studying him, unsure whether to press him further or let him process whatever storm is brewing within.

As you adopt a mock pout, your voice drips with feigned disappointment. "You don’t like what I’m doing? Then I’ll just fuck myself, then."

Caleb's sigh is low and exasperated, but there's an unmistakable heat beneath it. "No. Not you," he mutters, his tone carrying a weight of possessiveness.

Gripping his length firmly, you brush it against your lips, letting the silky heat of him glide against your skin. "So, what is it, then?" you ask, spitting lightly on him and watching as the moisture glides over his dick. Your eyes flicker with fascination at the sheer size of him, marveling at how your body manages to take him in.

Before you can tease further, Caleb’s hand tightens in your hair, urging your mouth back onto him. The motion is commanding, but his groan as you obey is laced with pleasure. "I forgot… mmnh… about the cameras in here," he says, his voice breaking into a husky laugh.

The thought lingers, an illicit undertone in his words. "To think… someone could be watching you while I’m here… tsk, tsk," he groans, his hips arching forward.

He pushes himself deeper, his dick hitting the back of your throat as you struggle to take him in. You gag, swallowing reflexively, your nails digging into his hips for leverage. Caleb’s breath hitches as you tighten your grip, the pressure sending shivers through him.

Finally, you pull back, gasping for air, your lips flushed and wet. But before you can gather your thoughts, Caleb grabs you roughly by the neck, pulling you close. His lips crash against yours in a searing kiss, his hands cupping your face tightly as though he never wants to let go.

"I can have my way now… right?" he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper against your lips.

You nod, breathless and pliant, surrendering to the intensity of his gaze.

In one swift motion, Caleb pushes you to the floor. The impact is softened by your hands and knees catching you, but the air between you crackles with raw anticipation. You feel him drop to his knees behind you, his hands already tugging your skorts down with a fierce urgency.

"No one else is allowed to see you feel good," he growls, his voice low and feral, each word vibrating with possessive hunger.

You're taken aback by the stark shift in Caleb's demeanor, but deep down, it doesn't surprise you. If there's one thing about Caleb, it's that he’s possessive. No one is allowed to have you, see you, feel you, touch you, kiss you, or even dream of you—you are his.

Without warning, Caleb thrusts himself into you, and the sharp intensity of it pulls a moan from your lips. He grips your hips, pulling you even closer as if he can’t get deep enough. You instinctively arch your back, your body adjusting to him, but his commanding voice cuts through the haze.

“Keep your head on the ground,” he demands.

His movements are rough and erratic, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming—pain and pleasure mingling in a way that has you craving more. The ache from his earlier unintentional teasing only heightens the sensation of finally having him inside you. Caleb leans forward, his body pressing against yours. His lips brush over your shoulder, leaving heated kisses in their wake, and one of his hands finds yours, interlacing your fingers.

“I…” he grunts, his voice strained, “…wanted you to have your… ha… moment, fuck,” he growls, his words cutting off as his hips pick up speed.

The urgency in his movements isn’t just about his desire; it’s as though he’s determined to end the voyeur’s show as quickly as possible.

“Let… them,” you manage to moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. “Let them watch… ahhh.”

Caleb responds with a sharp thrust, his intensity knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Let them see… nnngh… that… you own me,” you groan, saliva slipping from your lips as your climax takes hold.

His laugh is deep and guttural, vibrating through you. “I like that,” he says, his voice low and full of satisfaction.

In a swift motion, Caleb flips you onto your back and pulls out. Without missing a beat, he begins stroking himself, his hand working quickly. You lift your legs and rest them on his shoulders, reaching for him, guiding him. Together, you watch as his release spills over your lower abdomen, painting your skin.

Caleb’s damp hair clings to his forehead, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You don’t wait long before throwing yourself into his arms, your lips crashing against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He cups your face, gently pulling your shirt down to cover you as if to shield what’s his.

But then, he pauses, his gaze shifting to the camera in the corner of the room. “Yeah… I’m gonna ask them for a copy. Have them delete theirs,” he says casually, though there’s a quiet threat laced in his tone.

You try to stand, but your legs wobble beneath you, threatening to give out. Caleb is quick to catch you, steadying you in his strong arms.

The room’s gravitational pull shifts back to normal, the weight of the moment settling over you both.

“So… watching me work out makes you hot?” he asks, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as he pulls his pants back up.

“You were practically humping me,” you retort, rubbing your thighs, still trembling from the aftermath. “This is your fault. My legs are numb…”

He laughs, the sound rich and unbothered. “I didn’t even do much work. Probably my evol’s fault,” he teases, scooping you up bridal-style before setting you gently on the bench. “Stay there for me, will you? I think we’ve got about 20 minutes left in this room.”

You settle onto the bench, your legs parted slightly, the evidence of your shared passion glistening on your skin. You trace a finger lightly over your sensitive area, the sensation still making you shiver.

“Hey…” Caleb’s voice calls out, sharp but amused. “Don’t get any more ideas. Not until we’re home, alright?”

The mood between you is tense, your body humming with a desire that refuses to wane. You bite your lip, your mind already plotting for the next round. Next time, you think, you’ll finish on top, taking charge and making him beg. But for now, Caleb still owns that spot, his dominance leaving its mark on every inch of you.

Your hands trail downward, brushing against your chest and grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs. The warmth of your touch stirs something deep inside, and you can’t help the quiet moan that escapes your lips. “Caleb…” you whisper, the sound low and needy, your hips swaying subtly against the bench.

Your body’s not finished. Not yet. It craves more, every fiber of your being yearning to feel him again. You try to suppress it, to mask the raw hunger threatening to consume you, but your efforts are futile. A sigh escapes, and with a playful smile that betrays the urgency in your voice, you murmur, “I think… we should go home now. Work out there.”

Caleb’s gaze snaps to you, his eyes widening with a mixture of shock and intrigue. “More?” he breathes, his voice dipping into that rich, low tone that makes your skin prickle with anticipation.

You lean forward slightly, your fingers brushing against your thighs as if coaxing him closer. “You can take control…” you whisper, your voice trembling with want. Your eyes lock with his, daring him to deny you. “I just want you.”

For a moment, Caleb simply stares at you, his chest rising and falling as if he’s trying to steady himself. But the flicker of desire in his eyes betrays him, and you can see the tension building in his body. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and he smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a warning. “If we start now, you might not make it home.”

You press your lips against his thumb in a silent challenge, your hips shifting again, your body pleading for his touch. “Then don’t stop,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough.

His composure cracks, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips firmly as he presses his body against yours. The bench beneath you creaks in protest, but neither of you cares. You’re lost in the moment, in the heat, in the unspoken promise of what’s to come.

“Home,” he finally mutters against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “Now.”

But even as he says it, his hands linger, his lips brushing against yours, teasing, tempting, and leaving no doubt that this is far from over.

[hellothisisangle]

Mx Angle I am very sorry for the confession I am about to make but I need this horny (heh) man in every single one of my holes. 😔

You have such a beautiful art style and when I watched your youtube shorts I was so amazed at how naturally you seem to create such astonishing pieces. Your art feels so light and fluid that together with the coloring it creates such seamless work of beauty. You convey strong and subtle emotions very well to your characters and paired with the lightning, you create very strong ambience. Not to mention the perspective. Like when you did the piece with Orin destroying Cae's portrait, It was so well incorporated into the background I was salivating. Or the piece with Astarion where you can see the scars on his back. Chills. Literal chills.

Thank you for feeding me with your stunning art. 😼💅

(God he's so hot.)

Realized I haven’t uploaded process videos to YouTube in a while 😅 I’ve been putting them on IG, so I’ll go back and try to post em!

Holy moly your words pierce my heart, thank you! ❤️

After so much flat comic drawing I really am challenging myself with every next thing I do. Having a subject (Cae and other bg3- obviously) that greatly inspires has made this the happiest/funnest drawing time of my life

[karasukarei]

Wind Breaker Drama CD vol. 1 – Fuurin, Memories of a Summer (Part 1)

I received a translation request for the drama CD that came with the first anime DVD/Blu-ray, thank you! It's quite long so I'll be doing it in sections. You can listen to it here!

I'll just be doing the script, if there's anyone keen to time it with the audio feel free to hit me up! Video editor found!

Translation masterpost here!

Note: I took some liberties with translations this time to make it read more smoothly. As always, if there’s any mistakes, feel free to let me know!

Shorthand because some names are really long:

Sakura – Sakura

Nirei – Nirei

Suo – Suo

Sugishita – Sugi

Kiryuu – Kiryuu

Tsugeura – Tsuge

Hiiragi – Hii

Umemiya – Ume

Scene 1 – 0:09~3:14

Nirei: Wahhh!

Tsuge: The blazing sun! The sparkling waves!

Nirei: This is the feeling of summer!

Tsuge: Kuu, I’m getting excited!

Kiryuu: How are they so full of energy? I’m about to melt~

Suo: Ahaha! It’s definitely really hot today!

Hii: They’re probably the kind to use up all their energy in the morning. (t/n: not quite sure if I heard this right; feel free to let me know if this is wrong!

Kiryuu: Nirei-chan, those are trendy sunglasses!

Nirei: Ehehe, I like this style! Eh, I’m getting too carried away, aren’t I?

Suo: I think it’s fine to go for a different vibe from usual! Of course, the usual Nirei-kun is great too!

Nirei: Thank you very much! (t/n: WHAT A PURE GOOD BOY)

Sakura: *grunts of anguish*

Hiiragi: Sakura? You’ve been quiet since just now, what’s wrong?

Kiryuu: Oh yo~? (t/n: THIS IS SO CUTE THANK YOU TOSSHIIIII) Sakura-chan, your face is all red, are you ok?

Tsuge: Do you have heat stroke?! You can have some of my special sports drink to replenish your fluids!

Suo: It’s all good! Sakura-kun doesn’t have heat stroke!

Nirei or Tsuge (edit: Thanks @/pikiiro!): Really?

Suo: Yup! He probably just can’t take the surrounding atmosphere.

Nirei: Surrounding?

Kiryuu: Ooh~ (t/n: this is with a cute down intonation <3) There’s a couple there, there’s a couple there, ah, there’s also a couple here.

Nirei: Speaking of which, it seems that this beach is popular as a date spot for couples!

Suo: You’ve just become embarrassed, haven’t you Sakura-kun!

Sakura: DAAAAAAAAAA

Kiryuu: Sakura-chan is so cute~

Sakura: Shut up!

Hiiragi: You guys shut up.

Suo: Ah yes. Hiiragai-san, thank you for inviting us today!

Hiiragi: It’s fine, sorry for the short notice. Umemiya suddenly asked to invite you all.

Nirei: But it’s amazing isn’t it! He won first place in a lucky draw at the shopping street!

Hiiragi: That guy does tend to win these lucky draws… (t/n: Ume-chan can you gimme your luck for my ichiban kuji draws)

Tsuge: It even comes with a stay at the inn, I’m all fired up! (t/n: I can’t hear exactly what he said, it was either 2 or 3 nights’ stay. As for the inn itself, think of it as renting out a summer house where you can do whatever you want, it’s not a ryokan where there are people at your beck and call.)

Sakura: Anyway, where is that Umemiya?!

Suo: Now that you mention it, he hasn’t come yet.

Hiiragi: That guy, he’s late again… (t/n: rip Hiiragi’s stomach)

Ume: Hey everyone!

Nirei: Umemiya-san! Good morning!

Ume: Sorry about making everyone wait!

Sakura: You’re (“omae”) the one who invited everyone you shouldn’t be late!

Sugi: It’s not “omae”, it’s “Umemiya-san”!

Ume: Sugishita, don’t fight here ok? (t/n: he sounds like he’s talking to his pet dog LMAO)

Sakura: Also! Why is this guy here?!

Kiryuu: That’s true, Sugi-chan seems to hate stuff like this…

Ume: I invited him! Since it’s summer, let’s do stuff befitting our springtime of youth! (t/n: ok I took some liberties with this translation, but I think this sounds cooler)

Sugi: Thank you very much for inviting me.

Ume: I told you guys when you entered the school right? “This summer let’s all go to the beach!” Don’t you guys remember?

Sakura: He was serious about that?

Hiiragi: This guy is always serious.

Ume: I invited Kaji and gang too but they had plans today… next time it’ll be all of Fuurin!

Nirei: Isn’t that a tall order?

Ume: Anyway let’s get into the sea! Don’t you guys find it hot just standing around here?

Hiiragi: We were waiting for you!

Ume: Oh yeah, that’s right!

Hiiragi: *groans of acidic anguish*

Suo: Hiiragi-san, it’ll be nice if you won’t need to use your stomach medicine today ^^; (t/n: reading back on this it sounds as though he’s telling Hiiragi not to use his medicine. It’s closer to “man, I sure hope you won’t end up being forced to use your medicine today” – I hope this makes sense x_x)

Nirei: Ah, hahaha…

Scene 2 – 3:14~4:59

Hiiragi: I think we can leave our stuff here.

Nirei: Eh, is that so, Sakura-san?

Kiryuu: Hmm, what is it, what’s up?

Suo: It seems that this is Sakura-kun’s first time at the beach!

Tsuge: That’s rare!

Sakura: Is it that bad? It’s not like I had any reason to come anyway…

Ume: Isn’t that fine! Since it’s your first time, it means that you can start to have fun here from now on!

Sakura: *gulps of embarrassment*

Ume: Hehe, make memories together with us. Hey everyone, let’s go!

Sakura: Oi, don’t pull me!!!

Kiryuu: Ooh- They’ve left.

Hiiragi: *sighs* You guys go too.

Nirei: Hiiragi-san, aren’t you going?

Hiiragi: We need someone to watch our stuff.

Nirei: Then I’ll stay behind. We can’t leave Hiiragi-san to take care of our stuff!

Hiiragi: Don’t sweat on it, we can take turns later.

Kiryuu: Ah, I’ll be staying behind so it’s ok~ I’m not going into the sea~

Tsuge: You’re not, even though we came all the way here?

Kiryuu: Hmm, I don’t like getting all stick from the seawater, and I also haven’t cleared my login bonuses today~ (t/n: this man has his priorities right)

Nirei: As expected of Kiryuu-san, your resolve is firm!

Tsuge: He’s displaying his virtue here! (t/n: the literal translation was “I can smell his virtue” but it’s… kinda weird lmao)

Suo: I’ll be staying behind too.

Nirei: Suo-san, you too?

Hiiragi: By the way, you guys are wearing parkas on top of your rash guards, isn’t it hot? (t/n: think of a light beach jacket, not a literal winter parka)

Suo: I don’t want to get sunburned!

Tsuge: Oh, that’s a virtue too! That’s great, I want to learn more about everyone’s virtue!

Suo: Eh… aren’t you going into the sea? (t/n: I see what you did there Suo)

Tsuge: Oh yes! Come Nirei-kun, let’s go!

Nirei: Yes!

Hiiragi: For crying out loud… I’ll be leaving our stuff to you guys.

Suo: Of course! Please take care!

Kiryuu: Everyone has so much energy~

Suo: Yes, it does seem that way.

[viking-raider]

Moon Crazed *Mature*

Summary: Henry seems especially crazed on his birthday, and you don't understand why, until you check the calendar again.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: M - Fluff, Angst, Banter, Pet Names, Language, Gray Hair Appreciation, Cuddles, Supportive Spouse SMUT - Birthday Sex, Oral (F receiving), Fingering (F Receiving), Unprotected Sex (Wrap it!), Possible Voyeurism, Sneak Attacks, Doggy Style, Hickeys, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Super light Anal, Rutting, Hinted Breeding Kink, Light Spanking, Body Fluids, Biting

Inspiration: Henry's 40th Birthday being on a literal Full Moon!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

You hummed softly, standing at the refrigerator as you filled your water bottle with ice from the dispenser. Unaware of the predator stalking up behind you. Until strong hands grabbed a hold of your hips, causing you to let out a startled scream and drop your bottle, the ice chips rattling in the black plastic as it struck the hardwood floor.

“Henry!” You yelped as he spun you around to face him, but smiled, nonetheless. “What are-” You started, but he captured your lips in a hungry, heated kiss, that had you breathless before you could finish your question.

There were black spots in your eyes, when the kiss finally broke and you were dizzy, only vaguely aware of a coolness from your waist down, then Henry's hands were back on your hips and he was lifting you onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. You hissed, feeling the cold butcher block on your bare skin, Henry having stripped you of your pants and underwear.

“Whoa, Cavill!” You huffed, pressing your knees together and planting your palms to his collarbone. “The fuck has you so crazed?” You asked, seeing how bright, clear and wild his blue eyes were, his pupils blown out from his mounting arousal.

“This.” He purred, his voice rumbling, as his fingers swiped at your exposed folds.

“Oh, holy Jesus!” You gasped, off guard, wiggling on the counter. “Right, Okay.” You panted, softly. “Birthday boy is in a mood.”

“Birthday boy is hungry.” He growled, dropping to his knees and yanking you to the edge of the island, your legs draped over his broad shoulders, while his mouth showed no mercy at attacking your womanhood.

Your hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his curls. “What is it? A full moon!” You cried out, eyes crossing and rolling back, feeling Henry's tongue swirl against your swelling clit. “Hen-Ry.” You moaned, hands slipping from his hair as you fell back across the counter, the muscles of your thighs twitching under his onslaught.

“Such nice red velvet.” He cooed, his breath hot against your wet folds, as he licked your icing off his lips.

“You're crazy.” You wheezed back, your head lulling side to side, while you gazed up at the vaulted ceiling.

Smirking, Henry pressed his lips to your humming pearl, drawing a breathy moan from deep in your throat, with the gentle suckles that only grew with intensity. His tongue flicking out to tease, torture and collect your sweet nectar, but never yet permitting the mounting rapture that balanced on a knife's edge. You tried rolling your hips against his mouth, antsy to feel that sweet relief at the mercy of his skilled mouth. But Henry's hands gripped them, pinning you to the counter with a near bruising strength.

“It's my birthday.” Henry huffed between your thighs, glaring up the length of your heaving body, feeling the throb of his clothed girth at the sight of the mounds of your breasts, nipples hard through the fabric of your shirt. “Behave.” He growled, slipping a hand into your shirt to pinch and tease one of your peaks, while his mouth left a dark purple mark on the inside of your trembling thigh.

You shivered at the contact, whimpering, but laid as still as you could. Henry chuckled, loving the madness he was driving you into. He laid an open mouth kiss to your pearl and took a deep breath, filling his senses with your heady scent, that only seemed to drag him deeper into his own psychosis. You hiccuped at the feel of his teeth nipping at your dripping petals, lifting your head and letting out a shocked huff at Henry, whose eyes only regarded you mischievously, not willing to stop and lift his head.

His tongue finally split you open, licking and snaking down your tunnel, chuckling at the hums and pants you were making at the attention. He removed his hand from your hip, his thumb easily finding your clit and applied just the right amount of pressure as his tongue found your spot.

Starting to hiccup, with surprise at the rushing of the orgasm that hit you, your back curving off the counter, before it caught in your throat, face twisting in ecstasy. “Henry!” You cried out, breaking through the surprise, “Oh god, Hen!” You mewled, falling limp as it wore off.

Henry stood up, a heavenly and satisfied look on his face. “Mmm.” He moaned, smirking at you. “You taste so damn good, baby girl.” He chuckled, wiping at the droplets on his lips and chin, before tugging down his sweatpants.

“Shit!” You cried out, nails clawing at the butcher block underneath you as Henry eased his weeping cock into you. “Warn a girl!” You barked, hooking your shaking legs around his thighs.

“That was your warning, babe.” Henry laughed, gripping one of your hips and planting his other hand on the counter, as leverage.

You looked up at Henry and saw a familiar glint in his blue eyes, but it seemed a bit more than usual. “Christ alive.” You sighed, gripping the wrist he had at your hip.

“You're all strapped in, honey?” He chuckled, rubbing your hip with his thumb.

“I know you, Cavill!” You answered, clenching around him.

Moaning, Henry bit his bottom lip and pushed his hips forward into you with as much strength as he could, rocking you further up the counter. With his pace set, Henry didn't relent, not even when your nails broke the skin of his wrist.

“Filling you up never gets old, babe.” Henry panted, recovering from his climax. “Unlike somethings.”

“The hell does that mean?” You wheezed, gulping thickly.

“Nothing.” He sighed, pulling you up and kissing you sweetly on the lips. “Just rambling. Come take a shower with me?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Of course.” You nodded, sliding off the island and following upstairs to the master bathroom.

Later that afternoon, you stood in the laundry room tossing things from a hamper into the washing machine, when you looked up and saw Henry's reflection in the window that was behind the machine.

“Hey there, handsome.” You cooed at him, leaning into the hamper to grab the last handful of dirty clothes. “Did you have a good workout?” You asked, tossing them in and closing the lid.

“Mmhm.” He replied, resting his shoulder against the door frame to watch you.

“Good.” You smiled, pushing up on your toes to reach the controls and started the machine, just as Henry pushed off the door towards you, trapping you against the vibrating appliance. “What—Oh, this again?” You purred, feeling his hand slip around you and into the band of your leggings and panties. “You are in a randy mood today, Puppy.” You said, in a sultry voice.

“Just today?” He husked back, gently rubbing your still, slightly, sore delicates.

You chuckled softly, unsure how to answer that or if it was rhetorical. “You always make me feel good, Henry.” You moaned, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. “Above other things.” You smirked, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“Mmm.” Henry moaned back at you, working his fingers a little more vigorously against your privates. “What other things?” He asked, pushing your shirt up and cupping one of your breasts in his paw.

“I think you're currently do-doing a goo-good job.” You gulped, pressing your back harder against his chiseled chest.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, pressing his lips to the top of your head, as a finger crooked into your entrance, teasing. “You like when I finger you?”

“Like is an inadequate word.” You whimpered, toes curling against the tiles of the laundry room floor. “Love it. Get off on the mere thought of. Have a yearning for most hours of the day.” You confessed, bracing a hand on the edge of the washer to help keep yourself up.

Henry smiled into your hair and allowed you to give in, feeling your wet warmth wash over his hand. “I love pleasuring you, more than almost everything else.” He cooed, turning you around to cup your face in his sticky hand, kissing you deeply.

“More laundry.” You giggled, after breaking the kiss, taking off your leggings and soiled panties, opening the washer machine to toss them in, yelping as Henry's hand connected to your bum.

“If I had it my way, you'd only be naked at home.” He grinned, biting the corner of his lip at the mere thought of getting to see your naked body at all hours in the privacy of your home.

“Oh, of that I am sure, my love.” You snorted, nodding your head. “And the feeling is mutual.” You added, tugging on the front of his shirt.

“I can fix that.” Henry laughed, blue eyes glittering.

Laying on your bed, arms folded beneath you, exhausted from the events of the day, you were again unaware of Henry coming for you, until you heard the floor creak.

“Christ alive!” You spooked, looking at him, before busting out into a smile, finding he was stark naked. “What has gotten into you, Henry?” You asked, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Twice already today we've had shenanigans throughout the house.” You said, running your eyes along his godly body. “Not counting our regular morning meeting.”

“Is it so hard to believe I can't get enough of you.” Henry asked, cocking a brow in your direction.

“No, not in the slightest, husband.” You purred at him, feeling his waves of need coming off of him, even from the gap between you. “It's just strange. You haven't been this needy in quite a while.”

“I've been on a mission to correct that.” He confessed, closing that gap. “Get undressed.” He ordered you, standing at the edge of the bed.

Smirking at him, you pulled your shirt off over your head, breasts bouncing as you did, much to Henry's delight and increased arousal. But when it came to your shorts, thumbs hooking in the waistband of them and your panties, you pushed them down painfully slow, your eyes dead on Henry's. You watched his throat bob and his fingers flex, as he pulled out every ounce of willpower not to launch forwards and rip the article of clothing off of you, himself.

His willpower finally broke and he snatched your pants off the rest of the way, tossing them carelessly aside, then climbing into bed with you, rolling you back onto your belly.

“Oh, we're just being a ball of fun today!” You giggled, as he used his knees to push your legs apart, one thick arm wrapping around your waist and hoisted your hips and bum up, while rutting his hard cock against the valley of your cheeks, grunting in your ear.

“I'll show you fun.” He growled, biting the side of your neck, while grasping himself at the base.

You let out a breath, feeling his tip run down between your cheeks, making the space slick with glossy droplets. He paused to tease your special hole, causing you to gasp and clench in surprise, a rumble of a chuckle bubbling out of Henry as he carried on, rubbing your pleasantly weeping entrance.

“Do you like it when I play with you?” He rasped, pressing his forehead against your temple, his eyes dark, like a storm over an ocean. “When I fill you up.”

“Hm.” You hummed, pushing back against him, eager and impatient to feel him fill you again. “I love it.” You whispered, breathily. “It makes me feel good, Henry.”

Smirking, Henry slowly eased himself inside of you, wanting to feel every little bit as he did. A shiver ran down both your backs as the last inch of his manhood came to rest in your sensitive canal, flexing and molding around him. With quick snaps of his hips, Henry drove himself into you without giving away any ground.

You moaned, hands twisting up in the duvet beneath you as Henry rocked harder into you. Arching your back more, adjusting him and causing you to let out a sweet, almost deafening, cry. Henry grasped the underside of your jaw, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder and closing his mouth against your throat, timing his sucks and bites with his thrusts.

Leaving behind yet another mark of his passion for you.

“Henry, please.” You moaned, brows creasing. “Touch me.” You gulped, licking your lips.

He moaned against your neck, removing his hand from your face to slip it beneath you, finding your swollen bud, drenched in your combined fluids. Henry was torturous at rubbing clit, but did nothing to rush the pace of his hips. You whined, kicking your feet a little bit and shifting your knees to try and get more leverage, but Henry used his own body to keep you in place.

“You devil.” You sighed at him, yanking your neck away from his mouth.

“Mmhm.” Henry hummed back, not missing a beat, but smirked at you devilishly, before pulling away from you, standing up on his knees to watch himself slide in and out of you. “What a beautiful sight this is.” He purred, rubbing his palm up and down your glistening back, squeezing your neck for a moment.

“Pity you can't see it yourself.”

“Feels amazing as is, big boy.” You answered, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Henry popped you on the ass, applying more pressure to your clit and increased his thrusts, rocking the headboard against the wall. You gripped the duvet for leverage and rocked in tune with him, feeling the hot build of your climax, soft whimpers leaving your parted lips and tears blurring your vision as it finally boiled over, surging around Henry's shaft, the hot pulse intensifying as his own orgasm mounted.

“Henry!” You cried, the sensation of him pumping searing ribbons of his seed into you just as maddening compared to your own.

Pulling out of you, Henry dropped to his side beside you, flushed, sweaty and panting. You rolled onto your side, unfazed by the massive wet spot on the blanket the two of you made, and looked at your husband, smirking. Reaching out for him and gently brushing the damp curls off his forehead, your eyes softening at the sight of the grays you saw in them. Especially at his temple. They drew a smile across your lips.

“What are you smiling about?” Henry asked lazily, cracking an eye at you.

You giggled at him, wiggling in closer. “Just noticing all the new grays you have.” You cooed, resting your head on his bicep and twisting the graying curl around the tip of your index finger, fondly, only to have Henry turn his head out of your grasp.

“Old man.” He huffed, a frustrated crease between his brows.

“Hardly!” You laughed, amused, pressing a kiss on his sternum. “Just because you turned forty today, doesn't make you an old man, Cavill.”

“I damn well feel like one.” Henry growled, fixing his blue eyes on you. “Never this winded after making love to you.”

You sucked your bottom lip in, biting down on it, as you regarded him with understanding and loving eyes. “Is this what everything's been about today?” You finally asked, cupping his bearded cheek. “You sneak attacking me everywhere in the house.” You smirked, your body tingling at just recalling them, but your smile faded seeing the look in his eyes and face.

“Do you think you can't--” You struggled for a moment, a lump in your throat.

“Satisfy you.” He finished for you. “Yes. I've been worried that hitting forty meant that I would lose the ability to keep satisfying you. Seeing the gray hairs in the morning, when I get up to shower, has only increased that anxiety.” He confessed, looking away from you.

“Henry.” You mewled, heartbroken at your husband's words. “You have never lacked there, or anywhere. Today is a fine example of that.” You tried to get him to understand. “We were intimate four times throughout the day, on top of the festivities for your birthday. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

Henry looked back up at you, a look of relief in his cerulean orbs. “You don't think I look silly with them?”

You huffed and clicked your tongue at him, rolling your eyes. “Henry Cavill, I've known and seen you with a great many looks over the last eight years, because of your occupation, and I've never known you to look silly.” You told him, honestly. “Even when you thought you would with the Kingstache.” You giggled, grinning at that memory.

“Lord, that was an identity crisis.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“But,” You looked him squarely in the eyes. “You with gray hair is rather dashing, in my opinion, and I can't wait to see a few more.”

“Oh, that's how it is!” He said, wrapping his arms around you and rolling onto his back, so you straddled his waist. “You like being married to this gray fox!” He laughed, pawing at your butt.

“What is this! A full moon!” You whooped, wiggling out of his grasp to grab your phone and pulled up what phase it was. “Sure as hell!” You laughed, looking over at him. “Your birthday is a full moon!” You smirked, setting your phone back on the nightstand and crawled back into bed with him.

“So, my gray fox is Moon Crazed!”

“Crazed by something.” Henry purred, pulling you in for a kiss.

[cy-lindric]

I wanted to vent, but also ask an honest question. Since I was a teenager, I always wanted to work on character design. And one thing that always caught my attention was how I always preferred male character designs over female ones. My first thought was that I was always more into androgynous fashion and more masculine styles. But time passed and I came to the conclusion that it wasn't just that, and it seems that male characters can always be different things: fat, thin, handsome, ugly, short, tall, young, old, etc. and female characters, for the most part, fall into two categories: cute or sexy. I wanted some tips on how I can make female characters with more interesting designs, without having to fall into those two categories. I love your work and you managed to make someone else like the three musketeers <3<3

Hello ! That's definitely a good question and something I think about a lot. The bias towards beauty is very strong in character design and it takes a conscious effort to diversify output in that regard.

That sort of advice might be a bit obvious, but one habit I picked up from the director on my first feature film gig was to actually "cast" characters. Without reference, we tend to go for the kind of symmetrical face and "average" features mostly out of stylistic habit. I like to look at character actors with distinct faces (I like this pinterest page that has a lot of faces in one place) but also just acquaintances or pictures of random crowds.

When designing a character, at first I'm always building a big reference board trying to decide what Type of Guy (gender neutral) I'm going for, trying use photos rather than other people's art, because I want to rely on automatics and graphic symbols as little as possible. Whether I'm designing a man or a woman or other, I use references of fashion styles and people across the board in terms of gender so I keep the scope open. Sometimes a character ref board for me will be a picture of one of my aunts next to a bunch of screenshots of Columbo. In my experience, a lot of the times, it's mostly about going with styles and archetypes the same way you would for a male character, and switching it up somewhere along the way by looking at real women in your life and beyond as a grounding mechanism. Sometimes that will mean changing almost nothing, because the borders between genders and how you characterize them is blurry and fluid, and sometimes it will mean using features that are uniquely tied to some sort of female experience.

I enjoy realism and I think getting more proficient at it did help me diversify my designs (I find that more difficult to do with more minimalistic styles). Still, I am mostly a fantasy artist and in my case that comes with some amount of stylization and idealization of shapes and looks. I'm far from perfect in my biases and I'm not going out of my way to draw "ugly" characters because that doesn't mean much to me ; I try to draw inspiration from the faces of every day people and I associate it with my love for fashion. It's also worth noting the work I post here for fun is a lot more hash tag aesthetic than the stuff I do professionally where diversity is much more important.

I don't know if any of that is relevant but that's definitely an interesting topic ! I'd love to know others' perspective and tips on the matter.

[sentinelsthiccass]

TFO Actor AU Episode Four

More Hobbies

Starscream, Soundwave, and Shockwave are being interviewed.

Starscream: My hobbies? Well, I happen to be highly into fashion of the past!

Soundwave: And he always finds the most obscure weird vintage fashion pieces...

Starscream: They are not weird, they are art! You wouldn't understand! None of you would understand! The style, the elegance!

Starscream starts going on a rant and has to be stopped via Soundwave covering his mouth.

Starscream, grumbling after his mouth is uncovered: Whatever... anyways, does having a social media page for your pet count as a hobby? I have a page for my cyber-cat, Lord Bumble!

Shockwave: ...did you loosely name him off of B-127/Bumblebee?

Starscream: What?! No, don't be ridiculous! It has nothing to do with him.

Soundwave: Liar. You know one of your hobbies is also fawning over the little yellow guy, it's so obvious.

Starscream: I do not fawn over him!

Soundwave: Yes you do, just admit it already!

Starscream screeches in frustration and walks off.

Soundwave: ...guess it's my turn? One of my hobbies is DJing at a few different clubs. People really seem to appreciate how I do it and I'm happy to share my talent with them.

Shockwave: I go with him often. I don't really like clubs, but I want to be there to support my husband...

Soundwave: Oh, yeah, in case you guys didn't know, me and Shockwave recently got married. Bee was my best man and Star was Shockwave's and Alpha Trion officiated and Ravage was the cute little ring bearer... it was nice.

Shockwave: ...and then everyone got drunk and Starscream tried to fistfight Megatronus.

Soundwave: I still have the recording of Starscream getting his aft beat.

Shockwave: You should post it...

Soundwave: Maybe... Anyways, my other hobby is drawing while listening to music. I really like to just doodle whatever I feel when listening to the song. Just listen to the melody and let the pencil flow...

Shockwave: You have some really obscure singers you like, too...

Soundwave: Well, yeah, but I also like a lot of popular music. I mean, my main playlist varies from peppy pop songs to hard rock to folk songs.

Shockwave: It has over 3,000 songs...

Soundwave: Well, yeah, there's so many good songs I just hand to include!

Shockwave: I suppose so...

Soundwave: Anyways, your turn, dear!

Shockwave, suddenly nervous: Ah- uh- I like science. I perform all kinds of experiments. And I buy those chemistry sets for sparklings to see how far I can push them.

Soundwave: And he somehow manages to cause a mess whether it be fluids all over or a straight up explosion.

Shockwave: ...sorry.

Soundwave: It's fine, whatever make you happy, I'm fine cleaning up after it... just stop roping the minicons into your shenanigans...

Shockwave: But they have fun with it...

Soundwave: Yes, but they also tend to get hurt, even if the injuries are small.

Shockwave: ...anyways, I also like bugs.

Soundwave: He has a collection of terrariums with different bugs that he named. He cares a lot for the little critters.

Shockwave: They are so small and frail, yet so interesting...

Soundwave: You should do some experi-

Shockwave: NO!

Soundwave: ...you didn't let me finish.

Shockwave: I know what you were going to say... my beloved creatures are not test subjects and never will be!

[whisper-cats]

not a character ask, but more so, how do you create such satisfying to look at pieces? do you have any tips? the cats look so fluid as if theyre one single shape if that makes sense, i love it so much!! i hope to see more content of these kitties theyre sooo gorg! 😻

Thanks sm!! Honestly I don't know how well I can explain it since I learned it over a very long period of time, often by just looking at what I admired in other people's art styles and mimicking it in my sketches. I've always loved highly cartoony styles, especially ones from the late 90's and that's where a lot of my style inspiration comes from One thing I know is that while you want consistency with the shapes and lines, going *too* far with choosing just sharp & straight edges or circular/soft shapes can end up kind of bland. A lot of more modern animation styles I'm not a fan of because everything is rounded out. But something being fully straight & sharp can just as easily be boring. Art styles look best imo when sharp edges and spikes are combined together with smooth curves, and this is probably most easy to see in something like fur and hair. When I draw a fur spike, I usually draw one side of it curvy and soft, end it in a sharp spike, and continue the other side of it much more straight. This kind of variety and contrast can be interesting to the eye, and it applies to the whole design tbh, not just fur.

This doesn't mean one side of the design should be soft and other side sharp - but having soft and sharp lines next to each other consistently thorough the design is very appealing imo.

You should also sometimes push your shapes and lines past what feels "sensible" in your mind, even if just to train your hand and mind to not stay too rigid. At least once in a while you should draw something way more exaggerated than it "should" be to break out of your own rigidness, even if your real pieces are more subdued.

I think you can also train your eye over a period of time to spot when a shape or line looks satisfying or doesn't. if it's your own art, you can erase/undo it and try again until it looks better. My art is fairly quick but maybe not as quick as it seems since I might erase/undo lines many many times in order to get it *just* right if a line didn't look satisfying enough to me the first time. That too gets faster with time.

Hopefully this makes sense and works for you and that I'm not just talking out of my ass here, I am fully self-learned especially when it comes to my art style so I could be wrong about some things :'D

edit: Oh and also - it's a great skill to learn to "imply" shapes and anatomy in your art without needing to actually draw everything about them in detail. I put very little actual detail in my cat arts because it looks a lot smoother and softer to just let the shapes and poses that they do have imply how the cat would look in a 3D space without drawing it out!

[nebmia]

Reviewing every rpg book on my shelf: 5, Flying Circus

Flying Circus is a a game by Erika Chappell where you fly planes, have messy dramatic relationships, and find out who you are. Sometimes all at the same time. More specifically you fly *rickety planes from the dawn of aviation* and have messy, dramatic relationships, and find out who you are *in an essentially queer way*.

The first thing I love about Flying Circus is it's sheer audacity in taking pbta (usually deployed for low crunch storygame-y titles) and twisting it into a highly detailed and technical system for running dogfights. I think its really clever how Erika has taken the idea of a detailed combat system are re-appraised it from the ground up in the context of dogfighting.

There is no grid based movement here, it simply is not useful in the three dimensional world that planes inhabit. Instead your positioning is modelled through altitude and air speed, with each being tradeable for the other and spend able to perform maneuvers.

Honestly the whole system is rather intimidating (a fact the book freely admits). Each plane requires a little personal instrument panel sheet (and a few extra side sheets) that resemble somthing you would expect in a euro-game boardgame more than an rpg. The system goes as far as modelling how your plane performs as you use up your modelling fuel and with varying altitude. There are also a lot of fairly involved moves that it feels would be a little tricky to keep aware of while running a dogfight. However, from what I hear, the system works well and, once you understand it, isn't /that/ tricky to run. I think this isn't actually that crunchy when compared to your standard tactical battlers, it's just completely new (and working in a zone most people have less of an intuitive understanding of [although its worth noting that most peoples intuitive understanding of medieval style combat is dead wrong]) so we are unably to draw upon our preexisting assumptions.

You will notice I have to fall back on reports and intiitions here because I am yet to be able to play the game, which is honestly my biggest problem with it: it carves such a specific niche that I think I will really struggle to ever bring it to the table. Anyone I have talked to about the game has always responded to the effect of 'I don't think I'm into planes enough for this'.

I am also not half as into planes specifically as Erika Chappell is. But what I am into is getting deep into things in general, and this whole system excels at letting you get incredibly technical and nerdy about your plane (as far as things like exactly what radiator fluid it has, if you use the advanced rules) and making those choices actually matter in play.

ok, that's probably enough about planes (a phrase I anticipate has never once been uttered by the author of this book), what are you doing when you get out of the planes?

The game follows a cycle of mission and downtime, which you spend relieving stress (in healthy or unhealthy ways) and running upkeep on your company. This is where you do a lot of the character work and bring into focus the 'coming of age' narrative that the game intends.

Which seems a good lead in to talking about the playbooks. Each playbook is focused around a particular thematic idea or experience, which is helpfully spelled out directly in a 'themes' section for each one. This isn't a game where you play as a fighter because you want to solve problems by hitting them but rather one where you play as a Fisher because you want to engage with "a queer reclamation of the monstous", or a scion because you want to engage with "privilege and power, and what obligations come with it", or a believer because you want to engage with "a mindset that thrives on radicalism", or a survivor because you want to engage with "a metaphor for what it feels like to be a transgender person escaping an unwelcome or abusive situation".

Obviously, alongside themes you do also get a load of cool abilities to use.

Of the many games that claim to be ghibli-esque but I think Flying Circus hews closest on account of two things: understanding miyazaki's perspective on war and also due to being absolutely unhinged about planes.

[ruin--eclipse]

About me (LAST UPDATED MARCH 31)

Most of my time: spent on Roblox with my friends/drawing and watching stuff about Undertale, OR POSTING ON TUMBLR!!

Pronouns: any /gender fluid lol my fam and friends use she/her

what i do every day(or what I post about): fan art of ppl like shundertale/By se-sans (< my favorite au) and sometimes my au, dandys world, and sometimes fnaf, I draw every day bc it’s the only thing I’m good at other than sitting and being lazy like Sans the Skeleton XD

I love undertale as you can see above lol, I love the amazing aus that ppl create!

DNI if 18+ blogs, proshipping, DONATION BLOGS, etc. I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!

I sometimes check out the blogs of the people who like my posts.

I just want to know who i should block or not :D

My goal with my blog: to make people happy and to show my art progress >:D (also for people to know more about my au :3)

This is pretty long so go under the cut for more!

my bday-October 21

My art style: what art style?!?!? It always changes!!!! Ghshdhzhgzusjdgatiakjb

I get art block often so you all can suggest any art things I can draw! I draw almost 24/7. If im not doing that then im watching vids or playing with my friends

Tags I'll commonly use:

My au/Soulswap: #soulswap AND #my au

free comissions - #free comissions

50 followers post

my fandoms: UNDERTALE, UNDERTALE AU, FNAF, OBJECT SHOWS, DANDY'S WORLD, HTTYD and you can try to get me into other fandoms if you want

fandoms i lost but got back into: HTTYD

Past fandoms: lunar and earth show, sun and moon show, pokemon, glitterforce(i watched everything then left), Countryhumans, Solarballs.

you guys can suggest art if you want, I dont want the creators to be uncomfortable so no NSFW allowed. (I do shipchildren if requested)

-SOULSWAP- (MY AU)

ALL ASKS OPEN

THE MAIN ASK BLOG IS @asksoulswap

-TRUST!

how to gain trust:

dont pressure the monsters or make them uncomfortable..

Be nice to them

--hoping to be able to make a comic soon!, writing the story when i'm not playing with my friendos or drawing--

Designs ive finished: Sans, Papyrus, Frisk, Alphys, Toriel, and Undyne.

Papyrus: a lil kid! has a scarf, who gave it to him..?? He doesnt really do hugs, really trusts sans. Sans cals him papyru (papy-roo)

Papyrus's soul: white heart

Interaction one: "Papyru?" "Yes sans?" "i cant sleep.." "Nightmare again?" "mm... Yeah.." "Trust me sans.. I'm not going anywhere.."

Seems pretty harmless

Sans: has a long light blue jacket, eye changes when feeling strong emotions. Ink on the side of his face and over the eyesockets. He has nightmares very often. Really cares about his brother.

Sans soul: white heart

Harmless?

Interaction one: "Hey Sans?" "Yeah?" "Have you been sleeping properly?" "Y-I-uhm.. Y-yes. I-Ive been sleeping r-really good...!" "You sound tired." "..." "..." "..." "Sleep. Please." "Fine... Can please have one of your cookies?" "Only if you sleep." "Okay."

Frisk: "..."

Frisk's soul: black (color slowly changes to determination -red- and patience -light blue-)

Unknown. . . the 7th soul.

Alphys: looks like the original alphys but with ink splotches everywhere on her skin. She doesnt really leave the lab often. Dont bother her while she's working. She likes her job as the royal scientist. She has a slight crush on undyne.

Interaction one: "O-oh hey undyne..!" "Hey!!! Alphys!! How've ya been?" "Ah... Good..!" ".. Have you been working overnight again..?" "A-Uh!!! N-no...." "...."

Alphy's soul: purple heart -perserverence-

Pretty harmless... Sans doesnt like her though..

Undyne: usually visits alphys. They are "best friends".

Undyne's soul: green heart -kindness-

Will hurt you if you hurt her friends.

Toriel: Queen of the underground. Enjoys talking to papyrus.

Toriel's soul: ???

Wants the best for her people. Doesnt know where Asgore is. Hates collecting souls.

interaction one: "Hello papyrus. Its been a few days hasnt it?" "Mhm!! Undyne i teaching me how to cook!!" "is it going well..?" "... I might've started a...small fire... BUT SHE GOT RID OF IT..!!" "Hehe.. Oh papyrus...."

Asgore: keeper of the ruins. A really good cook. Loves to bake. Speaks to Sans. Sans doesnt know his true name. Sans calls him "tea lover" or "old man".

soul: green -kindness-

"Hey old man. Who taught you how to cook? This is amazing..." "...Haha.. Thanks.. an old friend taught me."

[collegetennisoriginstory]

Rayyan to me is a Double Lion. They have a Lion Primary- they listen to their intuition, have a clear sense of right and wrong and their Cause is becoming a professional tennis player. They’re the type of Lion Primary who is adamant about their Cause and as a fellow Lion Primary that’s kind of sexy of them to me. They’re also a Lion Secondary-they are themself and hate to lie, they charge and take things head on.

Tobin on the other hand screams Badger Primary- they care about the community of Cargill and it’s also shown through how they handle Felix. Badger Primaries have a fascinating thing known as “dehumanising” they simply do not view that person as a person anymore (usually when a Badger’s close one hurts them they deal with that by cutting them off, while a Snake Primary wouldn’t struggle with that unless they’re part of their inner circle. Think of it like cutting off a limb and cauterising it to stop the bleeding.) Tobin cares about everyone not just their close ones and that’s shown through their actions. They are a Snake Secondary- adaptive and fluid, improvising when they need to. Their playing style was described as “fluid” and that solidified it for me. 

G seems to be an immature Snake Primary- hedonistic, live in the moment, still trying to find their people, while also being burnt- somehow they are hurt and have burned as a result (they take of themself first and foremost) they however are a Bird Secondary- drawing upon prior knowledge and using their tools in situations.

Sam is a Snake Primary whose Important Person is MC and that melts my heart. They care about MC & Robin and their family. They take to Cargill- not because they’re community but because they’re MC’speople- and have a Badger Secondary of hard work and drawing upon the community for help. Amusingly enough Snake Badger’s are known as the Love Interest sorting which explains why so many people love them.

I hope you liked my theories and sorry for rambling haha😅

OK I don't know if you guys know but I LOVE personality theory in all shapes and forms, so literally when I got this ask I showed it to my gf and she immediately snorted and said I met my soulmate. So, thank you for that.

Long post below.

For folks who are wondering what the hell we're on about, here's a link to the sortinghatchats Tumblr page. Just so we get things out of the way: I absolutely detest J.K. Rowling and her TERF bullshit. Don't Stan for that, and that explains the use of lion/badger/snake/bird.

Anyway, agreed with Rayyan being lion primary—I was struggling with figuring out whether or not they seemed more snake primary or lion primary (because I also do see them protecting their crew to the ends of the earth e.g. their family, their cat, MC if they eventually make their way there...) but I do think that it ultimately makes more sense that they're people who wouldn't sacrifice their ideals/what they think is right.

As for Rayyan being lion secondary, that part is irrefutable. Like what you said:

they charge and take things head on

I think your Tobin typing is spot on, so I won't go into too much there except this:

Tobin cares about everyone not just their close ones and that’s shown through their actions.

and

adaptive and fluid, improvising when they need to. Their playing style was described as “fluid”

are absolutely right. I think Badger-snake combinations really explain Tobin's ability to mov through life with the ease and looseness/ quiet confidence and warmth/kindheartedness that Tobin embodies.

For G, I actually read them more as bird primary than bird secondary, mostly because I think ultimately, G's more concerned with coming up with a framework/system through which they understand the world / life / make decisions, but they're constantly adjusting / adding to that system or framework. Contradictions make them want to tinker and probe, and they're most at ease when things make sense.

I could see bird primary with either snake secondary for G (they wear many different skins) or bird secondary.

For Sam, I think you hit the nail on the head with

Sam is a Snake Primary whose Important Person is MC

and

Badger Secondary of hard work and drawing upon the community for help.

Absolutely adorable. I think that combination might be so popular for love-interests because it's probably the most endearing ride-or-die bestie combination to exist.

[zheiya]

Both Idiots

Glorfindel x F Reader

⚠️Warnings ⚠️: Just pure fluff

She slowly makes her way through the town, taking in everything. The beauty, the sense of peace, the people. It's all so different than where she came from. She can almost feel the magic around her, and she loves it

As she walks, she notices the people. The Elves. All of them look so peaceful and content. It must be a great place to live if the people look this happy.

I noticed the sound of swords clashing it looks like I'm near the training ground. I walked towards the sound that picked my interest.

As she moves closer to the source of the noise, she finds herself in the training grounds. It's an open area, with grass and mud all over the ground. And in the center of it are two Elves sparring, their swords clanking against one another. The elves are fast and graceful as they move, hitting and parrying each other with such speed that it seems impossible for them to even be hit.

As I surveyed the place I noticed the elf that assisted me that day. I watched him observing as I sat on the bench.

As she sits on the bench, she watches the two Elves sparring. One of them is the same elf that helped her earlier that day. He fights with such elegance and grace that it's like watching a dance. There's a softness to his movements, yet a strength behind them. And when he hits, it's with precision and power.

The other Elf is younger, with darker hair and a more reckless style to his fighting. He's fast and strong, but lacks the technique of his opponent. It's an interesting juxtaposition to watch the two fight, both so skilled from two different methods.

I continued to observe their fighting style but mostly looking at the blond elf I've met. Based on his sword fighting skills he has more experience.

The blonds skill is evident in his moves. Every move appears to be calculated, while also being smooth and fluid. He fights with an ease that comes from years of training and experience. There's a grace and a poise to his style that makes him look almost like a dancer when he moves. He avoids every move his opponent puts out, yet still moves with grace and ease.

The brunette is also skilled, but in a different way. His moves are more focused on raw power and speed. He uses his size and strength to overwhelm his opponent, but lacks the finesse of the blonde.

She watches carefully as they continue to spar. Something about this blonde elf draws her attention even more than the moves he performs. There's something about his presence, his manner, that is captivating. He moves like a dancer, yet there's an underlying fierceness and strength behind it.

As she watches them, the blonde elf finishes the fight with a swift and graceful move, easily dodging his opponents blow and striking to end the fight. His face is emotionless but there's a twinkle in his eyes that implies he's proud of himself.

As he turns around to face his opponent and raise his hand in a sign of victory, the blonde elf looks around the room. His eyes meet hers as she watches him. And for a moment, she could've sworn there is a spark in his eyes as well. Maybe he noticed her? Maybe he likes the way she looked when she was watching him spar? There's something there, something different than with anyone else. He slowly walks over to her, a slight smile on his lips.

He approaches her, seeming to glide rather than walk. His every move is smooth and controlled and full of grace. As he reaches her, he nods his head politely.

"Good day, my Lady."

He says with a soft voice, but there's a hint of mischievousness in it.

"Did you enjoy watching me fight?"

She is caught off guard by his forwardness and his teasing. He's flirting with her? No one has ever flirted with her like this before. It's intoxicating.

I smirk behind my hat.

"You're experience...you must have been in a battle more than any experienced fighters I've known."

"More than a few, in fact," he says with a slight smile. "And the way you watched and studied me? I'd say you have a knack for observing. It takes more than most to notice the skills of another." He says with a slight bow, holding her gaze.

"May I ask for your name, my Lady?" His voice is warm, yet there's also something mischievous and teasing about it as well.

He takes her hand, his lips curl into a slight smile. He's definitely attracted to her. There's something there. He pulls her hand towards him and gives it a light kiss.

"Glorfindel at your service, my Lady," he says with a slight bow of the head. "I'd be honoured if I can learn your name as well."

There's something about him that makes her feel like he's special, like they have some kind of connection. Even she doesn't know why, she just knows that she likes him and likes being around him.

I slightly lift my hat as I smiled at him.

"Y/N it is a pleasure to meet you Lord Glorfindel."

He smiles and holds her hand slightly tighter. The connection between them is becoming increasingly clear.

"The pleasure is all mine, my Lady," he says with a slight bow of his head.

"Tell me, what brings you to Rivendell? It's not often we see such a beautiful maiden appear from nowhere in this peaceful place."

I chuckled as I looked around.

"It's one of my list to visit this place. I heard there's quite an ample offer around here and that got my interest."

"Ah, yes, this is a wonderful place to visit," he says, still holding her hand.

"We're known for our craftsmanship. Our jewelry, our craftsmanship and our art is known far beyond the borders of Rivendell."

"I assume you're looking for a gift, my Lady?" He asks with a slight smile.

"I have a friend in the jewelry shop. He specializes in gems. Maybe you'd like to go with me?" He asks politely.

I chuckled as I noticed him still holding my hand. As I flickered my gaze back to him.

"Hmmm...I suppose I don't mind an escort."

He smiles and lowers his head slightly, still holding her hands. She must be attracted to him as well. Their eyes meet once more and something passes between them. He has the sense that there is more to their encounter than would be considered normal.

"Then let's go. I'm sure you'll find something there that will make an impression."

He says as he guides her out of the training grounds. He has a feeling that this might not be the last time they meet.

As they make their way through the town, she takes in its beauty once again. The houses are made of wood and stone, covered with vines hanging from the eaves. The streets are paved with brick, and the trees line both sides of the path. There are small shops scattered throughout the town, and the air smells of wood and flowers. She can't help but feel a sense of tranquility and peace as she walks with Glorfindel.

He leads her through the town, his hand on top of hers, and finally enters a store that is filled with gemstones, jewelry, and other valuables.

I flickered my gaze at the store observing the place. It seems it is taken care of very well, I can see that it has great craftsmanship.

"This store has been in the family for hundreds of years," Glorfindel explains as they enter.

"It's a place where many of our people come to purchase gifts and items for their loved ones. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

He walks her towards the center of the store, which is a case filled with several different types of jewelry and gems.

"I'm sure you'll find something here that will catch your eye," he says kindly.

I flickered my gaze on the aligned jewelry and gems.

"Hmmm...well the jewel I'm looking for is already standing in front of me."

As I smirk while tracing on the jewel I noticed.

Glorfindel's breath hitches as he listens to her. She just called him a jewel? Could it be?

He looks at her with a slight blush. His eyes are warm as he looks at her. There's a connection there. He just knows that there is.

"Why thank you, my Lady," he says, his voice softening. "I'm humbled by your words."

"What were you looking for again?" He asks, changing the subject slightly. The blush on his face can be seen through the soft golden hairs of his cheeks.

I looked at him for a moment and chuckled softly. As I picked up a necklace it has golden and blue accents.

"Hmmm...I suppose I did."

He watches as she picks up a beautiful necklace, golden with blue accents. The light hits the necklace, making it glisten and sparkle. It truly seems fit for a woman of her beauty.

"Is this to your liking, my Lady?" He asks politely.

"It's perfect for you," he adds, his voice carrying a slight catch. Something about this woman has gotten under his skin, and he's not sure what. He only knows that he wants to spend more time with her.

I flickered my gaze as I motioned him to lower his head.

Glorfindel's heart quickens as she motions for him to lower his head. Is she going to do what he thinks she is? He lowers his face slightly, watching her with anticipation. She is standing so close to him, her breath caressing his skin...his mind is reeling. He wants this, but does she?

He waits for her to make her move, his eyes on her lips.

I looked into his eyes with a hint of mischief as I leaned even closer. That I could feel his breath on my face.

"Do you like it?"

Glorfindel's heart is beating rapidly now. He's almost shaking. She's going to kiss him? He wants that so badly. He closes his eyes, waiting for the moment, praying to the gods that she will. His heart is beating even faster as she leans closer and whispers. And then it happens.

Their lips meet, pressing together in a tender kiss. His hands go to her waist and hold her close as he savours the moment. Finally they part, and he opens his eyes to see her smiling at him softly. He leans in again, kissing her again.

But it didn't happen I looked at him closing his eyes as if he was waiting for something. I blink as I slightly shake him.

"Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel opens his eyes, slightly confused. It seemed for a moment that she had kissed him, that it was real. But it's gone now.

"Yes, my Lady?" He asks gently, looking into her eyes. She's so beautiful. And he wants to kiss her again, properly this time. He can feel the connection between them. There's something there, a spark.

She's looking at him, and there's a hint of mischief in her eyes. She must want it, too. He leans in slowly, his lips approaching hers.

"I said do you like the necklace I've put on you."

As I gazed at the necklace I put on his neck the moment I asked him to lower his head was to put the necklace on him. But for some reason he closes his eyes as if anticipating something don't tell he was expecting a kiss?

Glorfindel's heart drops. This was a prank? She just put a necklace on him and he thought... No. No, she didn't.

"Yes," He says in a tight voice. He can't believe himself. He thought...he was so sure. "I uh...I like it."

He's speechless. He had hoped, prayed that it wasn't a prank, that she actually wanted him. And now, she had tricked him. A soft blush spreads across his face as he tries to contain his humiliation. And she looks at him with a mischievous smile on her face.

"You were closing your eyes were you expecting something?"

As I smirk.

His face turns redder. How could she do this to him?

He takes a deep breath.

"I was. But it seems I was mistaken."

He starts to remove the necklace.

"You can have it back. I thought it was a gift, but it's clear that you were only..."

He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. He can't even look at her right now. He's too humiliated, too ashamed that he fell for her little trick.

I feel a pang of pain when he has taken off the necklace. In a panic I pulled his collar and put a kiss on his cheek.

Glorfindel almost jumps out of his skin. He did not expect her to give him a kiss, let alone on his cheek. He stares at her for a few moments, dumbfounded. She just kissed him, and not just anywhere, but on the cheek.

"Why..." He says with a frown. He thinks that it was just a move of desperation, but his heart tells him otherwise.

"Why did you do that?" He asks softly. Is she truly attracted to him after all?

I stiffly turned around as I put on my hand.

"... It's a thank you gift for showing me around."

As I peak through my hat.

"... Goodbye!"

As I hurriedly got out of the store.

Glorfindel just stares after her, his mind racing. Did she just kiss him? Why did she kiss him like that? Was it sarcasm? Or was she serious? It was hard to tell, and at this point he's just confused.

He watches her leave, and when she's far enough away, he sits down on a bench. What was that? He thought they had a connection, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe he imagined everything. And he can't believe he fell for a prank. What a fool he is. He puts his head in his hands and sighs.

Glorfindel sits on the bench for a few moments, trying to make sense of what just happened. He is embarrassed that he thought she actually wanted him, that she was flirting with him. It must have been a prank. But why would she do this? Why would she kiss him like that? He doesn't understand, and it makes him even more upset.

He stands up from the bench, a knot in his stomach. Maybe it's best to leave things the way they are. Maybe he shouldn't pursue her. It's clearly a one-way attraction, and she won't give him further attention.

The next day I was checking out in the clothing store. Picking the best cloth for my new dress I will be making. I was in a tough spot on which one I should choose the lavender satin or the baby blue satin.

Glorfindel is about to walk into a shop, but when he sees Rickylyn inside debating over a satin, he stops for a moment. She might not have meant it yesterday, and he shouldn't have misinterpreted her actions. But still, he can't seem to stop thinking about her.

He enters the shop and walks over to her. She doesn't notice him at first, but once she does, she looks up with a surprised look on her face.

"Hello, my Lady," he says politely. "How may I be of assistance to you?"

I didn't notice it was him as I frowned and grumbled.

"Hmmm....I can't pick between these two colors. The lavender one is good and so is the baby blue satin. I'm going with the theme of a nice morning walk on the ocean."

I assume it was the shop assistant that was talking behind me.

Glorfindel smiles at her dilemma. He wants to help her pick. He wants to keep talking to her. But he shouldn't. Yesterday was evidence of that. Even if he interprets her actions in the wrong way, his feelings are still real. He likes her and wants to spend more time with her. But he needs to stop. He has no chance with her after all.

"Both are beautiful colors," he says with a smile.

"The lavender will make you look more regal and the blue more gentle. Whatever you choose will be perfect for the theme."

I silently murmured.

"Hmm...baby blue reminds me of his eyes..."

Glorfindel freezes. His heart drops in his chest. Did she just... Does she have feelings towards him after all? Did she mean it when she kissed his cheek yesterday?

He feels a spark of hope inside him. His feelings haven't been reciprocated. She must be talking about him.

He takes a deep breath. His expression is gentle and sincere as he speaks once more.

"His? Whose eyes?" He asks gently.

I flinched as I turned around and finally noticed him. I looked at him shocked I thought it was the shop assistant.

"Oh Glorfindel! I thought you were the shop assistant."

Glorfindel smiles, though still anxious about her saying she was reminded of a person's eyes. Was that person him?

"My apologies, my Lady. I wanted to help you pick the right fabric for your dress. Do you mind if I give you some advice as well?"

He looks at the satin she has in front of her. "The baby blue one is perfect for a delicate, gentle look. But the lavender seems to match your personality more. It gives you more of a mysterious vibe. And your eyes could complement it nicely."

I cleared my throat and awkwardly nodded.

"Well yes both have a great color and fit on the theme I'm making. I want something that is a nail to help me choose between the colors."

As I turned around to not show my face and just focused on the clothes I'm holding.

Glorfindel nods. What she asks makes sense, but he is still interested in knowing about the person whose eyes she was reminded of yesterday. He's quite curious now, almost obsessed with it, in fact. But he doesn't want to seem nosy or weird. It was one of the reasons why he tried to forget about Rickylyn in the first place.

"Maybe..."

He pauses.

"Maybe I could be of assistance. Can I try both of the satins on you?" He asks politely.

I flinched as I turned to look at him.

"On me?"

"Yes, my Lady..."

He looks at her with a smile. "You said that you wanted help to decide, right?"

He steps closer and offers his hands.

"Let me try the satins on you, and see which one looks better on you. It's up to you in the end."

He stares at her, waiting for her answer.

I bit my lip as I tucked my hair behind my ear.

"Uh...sure."

As I awkwardly smiled.

Glorfindel's heart is beating rapidly now. This is his chance to be closer to her. He quickly picks up the two different fabrics. He holds the lavender one in one hand, the blue one in the other.

"Please don't be shy," he says gently, taking a step towards her.

He offers the fabrics to her.

"Put one of them up to your face and let me see how it looks on you. Just hold it, and I'll take care of the rest."

I nodded as I held the fabric half of my face only showing my eyes.

Glorfindel looks carefully at her. He is so close to her now. He wants to kiss her so badly. But he has to keep his composure. This is his chance to see which fabric will suit her better. It might not seem like much, but he wants to see her face when he touches it.

He slowly brings the blue colored satin to her face and puts it on the other side. He doesn't look at her, instead focusing on the fabric. But just the feeling of his hand touching her skin, even for a moment, is enough to send shivers down his spine.

"So?"

Glorfindel looks up at her. He's still close to her. In his mind he wants to grab her and hold her in his arms. But he tries to control himself. He has to stay professional.

"Hm...it looks like the lavender one complements your complexion," he says slowly, looking at her face. He can see her now clearly. She's so beautiful. He forces himself to look back at the fabrics.

"Would you like to try it on for a full effect?"

I couldn't help but slowly flutter my eyes at him.

"You think so?...."

As I looked into his eyes.

He looks into her eyes. She's so close. Their faces are almost touching. The urge to kiss her is almost unbearable, but he holds back, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. They're still in the shop after all.

There's a soft blush on his cheeks, and his heart is pounding. He feels the same spark he noticed in her yesterday, in their conversation. Whatever this is, he wants to explore it. But he's not sure if she feels the same way.

"Yes," he says softly.

"The lavender one brings out your eyes beautifully."

I can feel my check slowly bloom with redness. As I flickered my gaze to his lips.

"...Then..."

Her blushing face and the way she's looking at him give him courage. He's still not sure, but he gets the feeling that she wants this.

He leans in slightly. His heart is beating a thousand times a minute. He can't believe he's doing this, but he wants nothing more than to kiss her.

He puts his hands on her cheeks gently, taking her face into his hands. He's about to kiss her. He hopes that she responds in the same way.

I slowly flutter my eyes at him as I softly and shyly hold his clothes for support. When the sound of falling in boxes broke our atmosphere. That made me jump in surprise.

Glorfindel is surprised as well. The noise takes him out of the moment. His face is close to hers, their bodies nearly touching, and this moment seems so perfect. He would love to kiss her right here and now. But it's ruined. They were interrupted. The moment is no longer there.

He reluctantly lets go of her and turns to look at where the sound came from.

"What was that?" He asks with a puzzled look.

I blink as I noticed someone bumping the vendors merchandise outside. Which made that noise.

"Ah... someone bumped the vendor's merchandise..."

Glorfindel nods. The interruption was unfortunate. Maybe it's for the best. He probably shouldn't kiss her after all, even if he wanted to. It's better to be professional.

But the urge is still there. He just wants to feel her lips once more.

"Let's help them," he says with a smile. He takes one of the fabrics and steps closer to where the vendor is. He lifts some of the fallen merchandise and puts it back on the shelf. This is his opportunity to get closer to her and spend more time with her.

I nodded as I helped picking up all the fallen merchandise. After we were done assisting the shop owner who gave us a lot of thanks for free fruits from her shop. He looked at me for a moment and smiled.

"So have you finally made a decision?"

"I'll go with your suggestion owner; I'll buy the lavender please."

As the shop owner nods and picks up the lavender fabric and starts to pack up my purchase. I looked back at him and noticed he wasn't wearing my necklace.

"...The necklace... you don't like them?"

Glorfindel freezes for a moment, taken aback by her mentioning the necklace. He quickly regains his composure.

"Oh, the necklace," he says, as he realizes he still has it in his hand.

"I'm sorry, it's beautiful. I just haven't put it on yet. I was waiting for the right moment."

He puts the necklace on, making sure to lock it in place as soon as possible. It felt wrong not having it on anymore.

"There," he says with a smile, touching the necklace softly. "How does it look?"

I blushed as I only dazedly look at him.

"Handsome..."

"Thank you," Glorfindel says, feeling flattered by her comment.

He looks at her, and that look on her face... She looks like she's not herself.

He steps closer to her.

"My lady. Are you alright?" He asks with a concerned look.

She seems so out of it. Is she just flustered from earlier? It's possible. But he wants to find out what's troubling her. He wants to help her. That's his role as her attendant, and that's also what he wants as a person.

I snapped from my dazed look as I blushed even more. I hope he didn't notice it as I cleared my throat.

"Uh- yes thank you for your assistance and your worries."

As I hurriedly bowed and started to bolt out of the store.

"Lady! You forgot your fabric!"

The shop owner shouts at me and I blushed as I hurriedly entered the shop shamefully then took my fabric. As I bowed at the shop owner and to Glorfindel then bolts away.

Glorfindel watches her leave, more confused than ever. She was acting so strange. Did he say something wrong? Did he move too fast? Was she just embarrassed by the interruption earlier? Or is it something else entirely? He's not sure. He feels lost. She seemed happy and even complimented him yesterday. It seemed like all was going well.

But now, it looks like he might have scared her away or made her uncomfortable in some way. He doesn't know what to feel or what to do. He feels so conflicted.

I silently screamed in my room as I put a pillow on my face.

"You're embarrassing yourself! My ghad?! Who just bolts out of the shop after almost kissing him! Idiot! I should have taken the chance! Arghhh! Why do I always get nervous!!!"

Glorfindel is confused. She must have felt the same way he did, right? Was it just nervousness that made her leave, so she didn't act on her feelings? No... He shouldn't make assumptions. And he definitely shouldn't make another move unless she explicitly tells him she likes him too. He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable.

"Damn it!" He curses to himself.

He decides to give her some time on her own. Maybe she'll think about what happened. Maybe she'll realize she missed an opportunity and decide to initiate something.

I sighed as I slid on my bed.

"Ahhh....I should've kissed him."

Glorfindel's world is crumbling around him, his hopes crushed. She wants him to kiss her! Why didn't he just take the chance? Why is he letting his nerves get the better of him?

Suddenly, a small spark of hope ignites inside of him. She wants him to kiss her. That's why she left so embarrassed. She was waiting for a kiss, but he didn't give it to her. He can still make it happen.

He stands up, determined. He won't let her get away like that, not without getting his kiss first.

The both sighed to themselves never once have passed through their minds. They're both mutually pinning for one another.

Why are these two idiots noticed they're interested in one another? Geez

[vagun1ka]

oh oh oh i just found your blog via your mygo posts but i love your art so sos o much. its really lovely seeing art of my favorite characters that reflects my body type. your style is also so nice and fluid and awesome to look at. ive been struggling a lot with my self image so it makes me happy to see that youre not shy to draw people that look like me

and frankly i think your art is very lovely even regardless, your compositions are always nice and i love the colors you use. they dont seem very "staticy" to me (is that the word you used to describe your art? i dont remember aha)

but basically your art is very good. sorry for spilling all this in your inbox i hope it helps knowing your art is essentially a beacon of light to me tho hehe

I've been rereading your message for couple of days, anon;;

this is really nice to hear💔💔💔 /pos

i hope you will find even more ways of inspiration to feel confident about your precious body🙏 im glad to be one of them for now

[theink-stainedfolk]

OC Unusual Association Tag

Thank you for the tag @willtheweaver i found this tag very interesting so i will take my ocs from two different stories lol.

How-To: Pick a character(s) and tell us what comes to mind for them in each category.

From The General's Bride:

Yin Jiàn

Seasoning: Star anise (aromatic but slightly bitter) Weather: A quiet snowfall at dawn Color: Crimson tinged with gold Sky: The last hues of sunset before twilight takes over Magic Power: Illusions—hiding, deceiving, and revealing only what he wants Plant: Wisteria (beautiful but draping, always hanging) Weapon: A finely crafted dagger, hidden beneath silk robes Social Media: A carefully curated Instagram account—perfection on the surface, but cryptic in captions Makeup: Delicate but striking—sharp eyeliner, soft lips, like a painting come to life Candy: Dark chocolate with a lingering, bittersweet aftertaste Fear: Being truly seen and understood, with nowhere left to hide Method of Long-Distance Travel: A palanquin, luxurious but enclosed Art Style: Traditional Chinese ink painting—fluid, elegant, yet bound by strokes Stationery: A gold-inlaid calligraphy brush, well-worn from use Celestial Body: A waning crescent moon—beautiful, distant, hiding its full self D&D Class: Bard (idk dnd so i had to search lol)

Luo Xingchen

Seasoning: Black pepper—strong, straightforward, with a bite Weather: A harsh winter wind that cuts through everything Color: Steel gray, unyielding Sky: A storm brewing on the horizon—calm, but not for long Magic Power: Telekinesis—efficient, powerful, without wasted movement Plant: Pine tree—unmoving, ever-resilient, standing through the storm Weapon: A long, battle-worn guandao (polearm) Social Media: No personal accounts, but if he had one, it��d be all blunt truths and zero embellishment Makeup: None, except for the occasional bloodstains that never seem to fully fade Candy: Bitter coffee-flavored hard candy—strong, acquired taste, keeps you awake Fear: Attachment—because losing it would be unbearable Method of Long-Distance Travel: Horseback, fast and efficient, no need for luxury Art Style: Realism, painted in stark contrasts—nothing romanticized, only truth Stationery: A plain yet practical inkstone, well-used but cared for Celestial Body: A solitary star burning in the void—distant but steadfast D&D Class: Fighter

From Ghosted Together:

Vihaan Singh

Seasoning: Garam masala Weather: Humid summer night with fireflies Colour: Deep amber Sky: A golden sunset after a storm Magic Power: Spirit summoning Plant: Marigold Weapon: Brass knuckles Social Media: Chaotic meme-filled Instagram stories Makeup: Smudged eyeliner he swears he didn’t put on Candy: Spicy tamarind candy Fear: Losing control over his powers Method of Long-Distance Travel: Motorcycle Art Style: Messy, expressive sketches Stationery: Ink-stained journal pages with doodles in the margins Celestial Body: Eclipse D&D Class: Warlock

Lǐ Zé Yǔ

Seasoning: Sichuan peppercorn Weather: Crisp autumn morning with a slight chill Colour: Midnight blue Sky: Clear, full-moon night Magic Power: Precognition Plant: White lotus (lolololol) Weapon: Hidden dagger Social Media: A perfectly curated, aesthetically pleasing Weibo account Makeup: Subtle, flawless foundation he “doesn’t wear” Candy: Dark chocolate with sea salt Fear: Being powerless in a life-or-death situation Method of Long-Distance Travel: Bullet train Art Style: Hyper-realistic ink drawings Stationery: High-quality fountain pen and pristine notebooks Celestial Body: The North Star D&D Class: Rogue

---

Tagging @finickyfelix @leahnardo-da-veggie @illarian-rambling @winglesswriter @paeliae-occasionally @the-golden-comet @thecomfywriter @drchenquill @wyked-ao3 @the-inkwell-variable @corinneglass @seastarblue @keeping-writing-frosty @oliolioxenfreewrites @vesanal @orphanheirs @dauntlessdraupadi

[chibishortdeath]

Ok so yesterday I was looking up Simon (common occurrence) cause I was drawing him (another common occurrence, drawing isn’t finished yet) and a took a little better of a look at his armor plate from Simon’s Quest and the designs on it.

So—

These gold patterns are very swooshy, fluid shapes with some very spikey, hooked sections. They also have gems inlaid in three places on the chest right at the ends and center of the design, with little circles coming off of it dedicated to them specifically. And it sounds weird, but this looks like a floral design to me, or at least some kind of plantlike. Very stylized for sure, but in the way that the fleur de lis is supposed to be a lily and doesn’t look exactly like one.

So at like uh midnight a bit back I looked up some stylized plants in art and whatnot and boy was that a hard search because google doesn’t know what you mean by “floral stylized in a similar way to the fleur de lis” and the amount of AI that comes up under armor designs specifically doesn’t help. Anyway, two things it could be that I ran into—

It could be a very simplified depiction of acanthus leaves, which are sometimes depicted more like actual leaves of a real plant, but sometimes are just swooping curves with some spikiness on them. They often times also have the motif of three points of interest (usually buds or a bloom) that line up fairly well with the three gems and were common for things like metalworking and gilding. It’s a fair match, not super great since it’s not exact, but considering there’s no distinct flowers, a ok-ish bet. My biggest thing with it, even if the symbolism would be so fitting and cool, is that they’re typically depicted way more clustered and there’s usually not very much of an open space, especially on a breastplate like that.

I also ran into other armors from the time period (or at least the websites said they were) with other closer looking floral designs and had to try to find out what these were on my own. This one in particular caught my eye as a little bit closer.

One seems to be a gladiolus, and the symbolism here works out, it’s pretty standard stuff that’d be on armor. However, again, the Simon’s quest armor does not have very distinct blooms, more similar to simplified buds, so it’s hard to tell.

There’s also a possibility this could be roses, since those tends to have thorns as a main focal point and the hooked parts look thorny, or it could be a combination of multiple flowers I’m just not running into. Of course, I know the original artist likely did not mean anything in particular by this design other than “cool old looking armor design”, BUUUUT— I want to know what looks like closest to it to uh take the flower symbolism for myself hehe :3.

If anyone else has more knowledge on ye olden armor and art styles than I do, do pop up and tell me your thoughts on what this pattern looks like to you!!!