#dream cast rp

[crowleytwstrp]

YO CROWLEY I HAVE A SUGGESTION

WHAT IF U HAD AN EVENT TO CELEBRATE RAINBOWS? IT'D BE COOL! :D

LIKE ALL THE STUDENTS COULD WEAR RAINBOW CLOTHES!

Celebrate rainbows? As in natural rainbows in the sky? Well, I'm afraid this suggestion feels quite vague to me. Though you do sound quite excited about this possible event! As the kind and generous headmage I am, I'll let you completely plan out the event! As long as it doesn't cost me a single thaumark and you're willing to do all the work, I'll gladly let you host a rainbow event yourself!

Perhaps you should let me look over the event details to make sure there won't be anything dangerous... actually, send the details to one of the ghost janitors! I'm sure they'll have the proper judgement to decide if anything could cause any legal issues along with helping set up the event!

Oh! You may want to ask Professor Crewel for some help with what types of rainbow clothes everyone could wear. I rather he not chew me out if anyone's outfits end up clashing terribly.

[starry-fame]

18+ Overboard [Caleb x Gender Neutral!reader/MC]

Summary:

“You planning on going back to bed soon? Or what?”

You chew on your lip, trying to gauge the meaning in his words. You pull up nothing, so you decide to just answer honestly. “…Not really.”

“Alright then, keep me company.” Caleb swings around to face the foyer, casting a long glance over his shoulder. “I’ve always been more of a night owl anyway.”

The liar. Caleb’s always been able to get up at the crack of dawn since he was a teen. It’s such an obvious fib, but he says it anyway, shamelessly directing you to his room.

Like a moth to a flame, you follow.

Tags: Smut, Pining, Confessions, Porn with feelings, Dom/Sub Undertones, Overstimulation, Body Worship, Penetration, Rough Sex, Begging Ambiguous Genitalia!reader/MC, Gender neutral!reader/MC

Word Count: 11,734

Author's Notes: I posted this a while ago on ao3 and wanted to try tumblr as well! I can also post silly MC stuff and character edits haha. Anyway, I hope Caleb lovers enjoy! Also, certain parts technically aren't canon as of A World Underneath release, but that's okay :')

Ao3 Check out Linkon Lounge, an 18+ Lads Themed Otome Discord Server! We stream otome/anime/movies, have lads boys rp/text bots (+Caleb ofc), and chill!

It burns.

The air’s filled with plumes of smoke, darkened to an ugly red clouded in ash. It waters your eyes and fills your lungs with soot, wracking you with dry coughs that destroy your throat. It’s hot — so hot — your body feels heavy. You’re crawling — you think? But the ground seems to slide beneath you, and your palms scrape against the concrete, bloodied.

Though your ears ring a terrible, destitute tune and your chest cries in agony — the only thing your mind screams is to get away. Run. Crawl. Slide. Drag your useless limbs and get away. You have to run; stand up and run but your body just lays there.

It’s coming. You can’t get away — you’ll die. You don’t want to die. Shelter’s right there. So close — so close. You drag past a mangled, severed arm, and instantly retch. But you keep moving. So near. Right there. But the sound of inhuman dragging grates your ears behind you and—

Your eyes shoot open, body doused in a sheen of sweat and heart ready to burst. The sheets feel far too sticky and clammy under your fingers and you’re quick to peel them off — rid yourself of anything that makes you feel hot. Confined.

One breath, two, three… it takes a moment to gather your bearings. You’re not freshly seven drowning in a sea of pain and desperate tears. You’re in your childhood home, resting on your sheets and surrounded by memories of the past.

Seems that no matter how much time passes, your dreams will always find a way to torment you as though you lived them yesterday.

What a mood-killer. You’re finally in your old home after an extended absence, and all your mind can do is taunt you by conjuring up your darkest memories.

The room’s bathed in darkness — a glance at your watch shows it’s late in the middle of the night. Not exactly time to rise, but you’re not so trusting of your dreams either. The sweat that dampens your brows and the front of your shirt feels disgusting, so you fan yourself mindlessly. You have to do something, be anywhere but here.

You’re quick to stand, stumbling a little from the sudden shift in gravity. Your eyes are still bleary, crusted, and you rub at them as you trudge out your room.

The house is dead silent, which only makes the sound of your footsteps more apparent, has you silently wincing at every step. Still, you do your best to move quiet as you can to the fridge. Grab yourself a water and chug about half of it in one gulp, cooling your clammy skin and ridding that feeling of scalding — of hot ash coating your throat. You enjoy the crinkle of the cool bottle in your grasp, how the mundane, predictable noise reminds you of reality and the now.

The incessant buzz of crickets in the distance is almost calming. The house is otherwise tranquil and calm. Peace and — you hear a quiet thump. Okay, not as quiet as you thought. Setting the bottle down, you slowly turn toward the noise, reminding your quickening pulse that unless your hunter’s watch is buzzing with a warning, there’s no imminent danger.

A few footsteps and… a tall figure emerges from the doorway, bending so he can properly fit through. Though he’s doused in shadow and you can only make out the slight glimmer of his two-toned irises, his name naturally falls from your lips.

“Caleb…”

“Thought I heard someone sneaking around in here. Why am I not surprised?” He languidly strides across the moonlit room, pausing to gently ruffle your hair like its tradition; he’s been doing it for so long, it might as well be. Even when you two were little and you had a bit of height on him (he’d prop up on his tip toes to pat your head — it was pretty adorable, in hindsight.) So you can’t bring yourself to swat his hand away as he goes for the fridge to grab a drink of his own.

Instead of drinking, though, Caleb pauses and scrutinizes the water, like it did a personal wrong to him. Before you get the chance to probe his mind, he presses the chilled bottle against your forehead. The cold makes you flinch on instinct and shoot a quick glare at him.

“What was that for?”

“Wake up call. Did you get thirsty in the middle of the night? Or you just can’t sleep?” He raises a brow, wearing a grin coated with worry as he takes a drink. Caleb’s always been terribly perceptive, he seemed to just know when you were having a terrible day or if something was amiss. Whether it was the years you’ve spent in each other’s company or Caleb’s innate sensitivity to human emotion, you have no clue. A mix of both, maybe.

Like always, he watches. You look away.

“Thirsty.”

“Uh huh. And I guess all that thirst’s what made your eyes red. You’re looking a little hot there too. Should I crank up the A/C?” Caleb raises a brow, and you wonder why he even bothers asking when he comes to his own conclusions. He should hardly be able to tell these things in the dark — does he just know? Or are the faint streaks of moonlight through the window just enough to tell him everything he needs?

“It’s not a bad thing to admit when you’re having nightmares, y’know. I mean, when you were a kid, you’d come knocking on my door in near tears and—“

“I get it, Caleb. I don’t need the whole rundown.” You snap, fighting the immediate embarrassment that wells up at your vulnerability and dependence as a child. For how strong you like to deem yourself now, it’s not like that was always the case. You were an easily frightened kid, especially jumpy after the attack. You clung to everyone and everything around you because you lost everything you held dear once before.

“And for the record,” you add, “it was a two way street. I can name a few times you came to my room saying you just wanted to talk. You look like you’d been crying for the past hour.” Right. Seeking solace in one another because you were confused kids who had their lives flipped upside down in a single afternoon.

You and Caleb were friends before the tragedy, neighbors who played together a few times at most. Not best friends, but he was the nice kid down the block you enjoyed spending time with.

When you found Caleb during the Catastrophe, you remember like it was only days ago. Crawling frantically, trying not to collapse from the pain that engulfed your being enough to make your vision swirl. In the makeshift shelter, you saw a few injured adults — some minimal, some fatal, and even fewer children crying tended to by lesser wounded adults. You could barely sit up. Someone tried to offer assistance, you think, but then a kid your size rushed beside you and knelt down, asking if you were okay.

Your ears were ringing and you could barely get a noise out, but you could tilt your head up and see those raven eyes with a hint of amber, full of absolute terror. You whispered his name so hoarse — “Caleb…” and like the turning of a faucet, an ugly mesh of tears and mucus immediately began streaming down your face. The smell of red — death, the sights, your bloodied hands, aching body, screaming heart, all honed in at once. All you could do was sob while Caleb knelt down beside you and cradled your head, tears prickling his eyes. It didn’t take long for you two to break down in one another’s arms.

From then on, you couldn’t help but stick to Caleb like glue. Caleb was the only person you had connected to your old life — the only remaining stability when everything else crumbled to dust. When you were bundled in your room and didn’t even want to talk to Grandma because she was some strange adult whom you now lived with — Caleb would sit in with you. He’d remain as long as he had to, validate every last awful thought you had in your frustrations and soothe you with sweet caresses and gentle words. As embarrassing as it is to recall, as a child, he was your lifeline. Caleb’s the reason you didn’t run away in a frenzy when everything was too much and you felt like you just needed to be away and gone. He’s the reason you were able to eventually adapt to your new lifestyle and warm up to Grandma over time. It’s ridiculous, really, how much Caleb meant and was able to do for you by just existing as himself. Caleb could sit in your room minding his business, and his presence alone was enough to soothe your tired limbs and mind from punching your pillows and recalling every terrible thing that happened that fated day.

He was always there for you, one way or another. It’s just the way it’s always been.

It’d be nice if you had something of an effect like that on him, too.

“Right. Because sometimes a little chat is all you need when you’re not doing so hot,” Caleb says, leaning on the counter and gesturing his bottle to you. Yeah, just like him alright, to flip it around on you even when you try to call him out. Makes it feel like every conversation with him is a losing battle, like he always has the upper hand because he knows just the right thing to say and how to say it.

“Alright, alright. Yeah, I had a nightmare. Happy?” You sigh, resigned at this point. You can’t even really be angry when Caleb’s been nothing but reasonable from the start, speaks out of pure care and concern. Rather, perhaps it’s the fact that he’s always reasonable you tend to get irate.

“‘Course not. It’s not like I like hearing you still get them. But it’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of keeping it all to yourself, right?” His eyes crinkle so sweetly, non-judgmental. It’s that look that always breaks you, forces you to spill anything and everything he can pull from you. He never takes advantage, just offers support, so you fall into his trap every time.

“It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. I can’t just run to you every time I have a bad dream,” you still utter. It’s weak at best, but you can’t toss all your issues onto Caleb like you did as a child. He lost everything that day too, and he still took the time to comfort and spoil you every single time you sought him out (or he came to you), no matter the day or hour. How many of those times did he cry himself, but choke back the tears just so he could attend to you?

“I didn’t say all that. But it’s not gonna kill you to quit bottling up your emotions, y’know.” The amber in Caleb’s eyes seem to flash, and yours flicker down in turn. Sometimes it feels like he still sees the same seven-year-old you once were, pitiful and dependent.

“I… know that. It’s just….”

A heavy breath leaves Caleb’s nose. He closes his eyes, sits on his words, and opens them with a twinkle of clarity.

“You gonna fall back asleep soon?”

You blink. “Huh?” Caleb doubles down.

“You planning on going back to bed soon? Or what?”

You chew on your lip, trying to gauge the meaning in his words. You pull up nothing, so you decide to just answer honestly. “…Not really.”

“Alright then, keep me company.” Caleb swings around to face the foyer, casting a long glance over his shoulder. “I’ve always been more of a night owl anyway.”

The liar. Caleb’s always been able to get up at the crack of dawn since he was a teen. It’s such an obvious fib, but he says it anyway, shamelessly directing you to his room.

You’ll let him have this one though; swallow your complaints and choose his method. You dip your head and follow him to his room, still decorated with posters of My Life as a Hunter and old-school shooter games he raved over as a kid. Though he grew a passion for piloting after a period, he still had an interest in Hunter shows as an early teen, posters and figures scattered about his room proof as such. You think they existed in attempt to ease the public into the idea of Hunters, hell, even to coerce a few impressionable people in the process. A small part of you always wanted a way to reign in control of your life, to be someone who can do the saving, not sit in tears and wait to be saved. The show just increased your resolve, if anything. Though, you remember a short period where Caleb tried to convince you otherwise.

Eventually, you think he understood well enough to quietly show his support, if only because you weren’t backing down. And it tickles the nose a little, knowing you’re now something he admired with sparkling eyes as a kid.

Like always, he sits on his bed, and you take a spot in the swivel chair at his desk, idly spinning back and fourth. There’s a dim, pale night light to give the room a low glow. It’s easy on the eyes and you can still comfortably make out the ridges of Caleb’s face, his indiscernible expression when he settles and just seems to think.

“…Feels like we haven’t done this in forever,” You murmur, eyes trailing around each and every corner. You well with nostalgia, so much it makes your heart ache, bittersweet.

“Yeah, guess we didn’t get much time once I left. Not soon after you were off getting your Hunter’s license, so we were both pretty busy,” Caleb responds, and you wonder if he feels the same way you do. A tinge of sadness, but serenity at the familiar scene. Getting to sit in one another’s company like you always would in the past.

“Getting used to you not always being around was…” It feels embarrassing to just admit how much you missed him, how empty the house felt without his lively presence. “Hard. Harder than I expected, anyway.”

“It was weird not waking up to Gran’s cooking or your demands, that’s for sure.”

“Demands?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way. You always act so proper around other people, but not with me and Gran. Everyone needs a place to loosen up, someone you can just be yourself around. And a little selfish.” Caleb’s laugh makes your cheeks warm, though your ears seem to love it. It fills you with various memories and you realize man, you really missed Caleb. When you talk, it’s like you two were never separated. But it’s times like these the feeling of truly getting to see him every day, just be with him, swells in your heart. You sigh, grasp your nightshirt, and peer at Caleb through your lashes because you fear how telling your expression is.

“Then… is it the same for you? Or was it easier to loosen up around your friends?” You ask nonchalantly, as though the question wasn’t gnawing at you from the inside out. Did Caleb feel at home, or like he had to put on a show and be the ‘strong one’, only able to let loose when he’s around peers and not biting off more than he can chew?

“Mmm…” You hear a low hum, and fingers ghost over your forehead, gone before you can even get a noise out. Caleb watches you intently, enough to make you break his gaze first. He looks pleased.

“It’s different with other friends, sure. Because you’re not them, and they’re not you. There’s ways I can relax with them, and reasons I can relax here,” he answers. His gaze feels loaded, and you vaguely wonder if there’s more to that answer with how his eyes bore into you. But you bite your tongue and decide to let the question go unsaid.

“I see.”

Caleb’s gaze persists. It’s gentle, not demanding of anything, or even expectant. But for some reason, it makes you want to turn away so you don’t have to be subject to it.

“I did miss home y’know, pipsqueak.” You wonder if that’s what Caleb was watching for, trying to see if you were silently doubtful. You bite your lip and decide to just let the words spill out before your pride makes you swallow them whole.

“I missed you.”

Caleb’s eyelids widen almost imperceptibly, but you still catch it. He blinks, and they relax with this look that feels fond, but also seems to carry another aspect you can’t decipher with so little light.

The sound of crickets buzz in the distance. The extended silence makes your grip tighten on the arm rest.

“This necklace is nice, y’know. Whenever anyone asks, I get to bring you up. They probably get sick of it after a while,” Caleb murmurs, and he lifts the silver chain you placed around his neck, ruby glimmering in the light. Knowing he kept it, the way he so proudly handles the chain, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You tell other people about me?”

“So much they could probably write an essay. How you’d cling to me as a kid, when we’d hang out together, how, for a short while, we were all the other had.” Caleb squeezes the chain and lets it dangle against his tee, expression gentle, and part of you wishes you had a chain too. Something to remind you of Caleb, an excuse to think or talk about him. To rub between your fingers and recall a time you were both in a fit of laughter, young, happy and free.

“I relied on you a lot. More than you deserved, especially as a kid. …Sorry.”

“Seriously?” Caleb gapes, and a snort leaves his mouth. “Never thought I’d hear that. But you don’t have to—no. I don’t want you to apologize. It was nice. Part of me kinda misses it. I mean I get it, you can handle your own. It’s not like you need me looking after you anymore, but… I liked it. And nowadays, I can’t help wanting to at least support you,” Caleb shrugs, like those words don’t penetrate your core and settle deep in your chest, breath hitching. A million responses swim through your mind, none of them breaking the surface.

“Oh, uh…” It’s… embarrassing, hearing that blatantly said aloud.

“And, to be perfectly clear, I missed you too,” he adds. Your throat bobs. You enjoy hearing those words from his mouth, the way he says them so easily with a hint of affection. While it’s enough to make your body feel flush with embarrassment, it’s nice he’s never too stubborn to show his care. If anything, you’re far more stubborn in admitting your feelings. Perhaps that’s why you told yourself to just say it, not let the pride win and be honest every once in a while.

“It… sucks. I only get to see you for a few days at most and poof, you’re gone,” you gesture along with your words, hastily getting them out while you still have the weak confidence to. “Your cooking, waking up to you everyday, when you get me little snacks just because…” Your legs swing back and fourth, antsy, but your heart feels lighter when you can freely speak your mind, say all the things you were too prideful to say as a kid.

Caleb listens silently with solicitous eyes. His mouth parts, closes again, and he seems to swallow. You time the kick of your legs, so you don’t start kicking them faster while you’re left on the waiting end, mute until Caleb responds.

“It’s pretty dull not having your own personal 5-star chef, huh?” He finally says, with a grin, and you softly deflate. Your legs slow to a stop, and your heart feels heavy again.

“Yeah… I… I guess—“

“No,” Caleb hisses under his breath. You think it’s to himself. But he leans forward on his duvet and reaches up, brushing his fingers over the jut of your eyebrows so light you can barely feel the touch. Your eyes shut reflectively, and his hand eases to your cheek, knuckles gently sliding down. You peek an eye at the sudden touch, trying to not make your mild startle too known. He’s the type to stroke your head or push you away in jest. This brand of touch is new. Foreign.

Your lips tremble and Caleb’s eyes flicker down to them.

“I’d do all those things every day, if I could. Listen to you get ridiculously excited about those rare kitty cards, see you when I get home from work; when you get home from work…” His knuckles trail down to your chin, dangerously close to your lips.

You inhale slowly, and try not to show your panic when your heart begins to beat an erratic rhythm. This is the first time Caleb’s ever made your heart race — like this anyway, and a flurry of thoughts and emotions you never dared consider all invade you at once. If you were standing, you’d stumble on the spot.

“I miss seeing your mug, what can I say?” Caleb laughs, gives your face two playful pats, and retracts his fingers. You withhold the urge to chase them, press his palm against your cheek. Instead, you bite the inside of your cheek to curb the desire.

They’re nothing but strange thoughts in the heat of the moment, a little too drawn in by the touch of his fingers after not seeing him for so long. Equating nostalgia with attraction is not a good look, and you know to smother it in its wisps before it engulfs into a bed of flames.

“When — when we were kids it was kind of like this,” you begin, trying to even out the tremor in your voice. “We weren’t telling each other we missed one another, of course. But I’d sit in this chair. And you’d wipe my tears when I was sad. No matter how long it took.” You say, and you know you’re just making conversation to push your mind away from uncouth thoughts. With luck, Caleb won’t pick up on a thing.

“Yeah, you were a bit of a crybaby. Always barging in, no matter the time, just to have someone to cry to. It was pretty cute, though.” Caleb stands slowly, already no more than a foot in front of you, and he bends down to rest one hand on the armrest while the other palm holds your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye. “Just like this.”

This… feels dangerous. The part of you that automatically reacts to his teasing wants to glare and push his hand away, scoffing and spouting some retort. That’s how you should respond, how he expects you to.

This new, faint part of you wants to close your eyes and lean your cheek into his palm, turn your head so your lips rest on his fingertips. You do neither, and just peer up at him through your lashes, too scared to tilt your head up and have your face reveal every dirty thought racing through your brain.

“It was cute when you’d come to me, too. You’d sit next to me, trying to act all strong. Then I’d pat your shoulder and you’d go ‘I’m not crying’ while you kept wiping your eyes. Couldn’t fool a baby. But it made me happy. That you came to me,” You speak, and reach up to Caleb’s shoulder, giving it a few soft pats. “Just like this.”

Caleb’s fingers dig into the armrest though his face remains moderately amused. He tilts his head, murmurs a “Guess we were both the type to tear up,” with a cryptic smile, and moves to pull his hand away.

Subconsciously, against any rational thought, you chase after him and hold tight to his shoulder, other hand keeping Caleb’s palm firmly in place.

He blinks once, twice. The moment is palpable. You know you can’t explain yourself out of this, but your gut instinct just doesn’t care. It craves to stay in Caleb’s proximity, to keep him by you. Like he’d melt away if you let go, and the moment would be lost to eternity.

“Pipsqueak?” He murmurs, rubbing a curious thumb across your cheek and it’s all you can really take. You feel the way Caleb tenses up when you bury your nose in his palm, when you shakily inhale and just settle into its warmth. You think you’re trembling a little, and fear eats at your racing heart. Fear of shattering the relationship you have — pushing beyond the bounds of your preconceived ‘normal’. This isn’t what you and Caleb are. Caleb calls you an infuriatingly affectionate nickname when he checks up on you. You and Caleb bicker about mindless things and easily make up in a few hours because Caleb always gives in. You and Caleb were friends since you were children, kids who played together, teens who begrudgingly got along, and adults who were still close and made efforts to visit home on your shared time off.

It wasn’t whatever the hell this was. And the guilt that rises in your throat is immense, taking Caleb’s actions to make them something they’re not — twisting his kind gestures into something awful. You force yourself to recede from his palm, mouth open to utter a soft apology.

Just as that soft ‘sorry’ passes your lips, Caleb coaxes your head up, peers long and hard into your eyes, like he’s searching the depths to find whatever it is he seeks, needs.

You think he finds it, because his breath hitches, the hand on your face seems to quiver, and his face leans so close to yours. Not touching, no, his hot breaths ghost over your lips, his nose tickling your cheek. You swallow thickly, and the warmth from his proximity spreads like wildfire.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispers, urgent. Almost desperate, like it takes every ounce of self-restraint to remain as he is. So near but never bridging the small gap.

“I…” You start, knowing this is the tipping point. He’s still kind enough to give you an out, to let you reject any notion of whatever this is and pretend none of it ever happened. Makes it seem like he doesn’t want it to happen. Caleb’s always been kind like that. And maybe, in the long run, it would be the better option. To not risk destroying the relationship you’ve built and nurtured for well over a decade.

But, meeting his pleading eyes with your own, you know the only words that can leave your mouth. It’s the sole thought that repeated over and over in tandem with each shaky sigh that parted from his pink lips.

Slowly opening your mouth, you take the plunge. “I do.”

You don’t know whether Caleb’s face flashes with relief or pain — maybe both — and his lips press so deep into yours, slow and heated. It elicits a quiet, gasping noise from your throat that Caleb swallows. You have to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself because his kisses are starved, like he’s been craving this moment forever and you wonder if that’s really the case. His hand on the armrest moves down to grasp your thigh and a pleased noise rumbles in the back of your throat, his thumb stroking the inside of it so tenderly you could tremble. The sense of relief, of immediate euphoria of having this man on your lips almost makes you wanna cry as he kisses you senseless, licks his tongue into your mouth and coaxes every soft noise he can with each repeated press of his lips. When your fingers sneak up to his neck, quiet sounds hum in his throat and they envelop your mind, drugging you with the sound and feel of him. You could do this for hours, kiss Caleb until the only thing your mouth knows is the taste of him.

“I can’t believe —“ Caleb gasps between breathless kisses, speaking against your lips and sliding his hand down to rest on the junction of your head and neck. You tremble and he pecks the corner of your mouth in response, as though to soothe you. “You’re actually—“ He kisses at your cheek, then your nose affectionately. You feel the heat rise in your neck and avert your gaze out of pure embarrassment. “Letting me…” He laughs against your cheek, face alight and you hope the pain you perceived earlier is a little lessened now.

“I didn’t know you wanted to…” You murmur, and stretch your neck up again to capture his lips. Somehow, each kiss only seems to improve upon the last, and when his fingers slide against your neck, a quiet moan vibrates in your throat. Caleb pulls back with low lids and ragged breaths, lips pinker than you’ve ever seen and covered with a sheen of saliva. Kiss swollen’s never a look you imagined on him, but you quite like it.

“Guess I’m good at keeping secrets then,” Caleb says in a huff of soft laughter, and he’s gently tugging, guiding your body up and off the chair to sit beside him on the duvet. “Or,” he leans down and pets the front of your throat, lips steady against your fluttering pulse. “You’re just stupidly oblivious.”

“There’s no way I would’ve…” you begin to murmur as your fingers clench on his nightclothes. Your body reacts to the sensation of his lips kissing every bit of skin he can reach on your neck, licking but mindful enough to not leave marks and the consideration alone is hot enough to make you shudder.

Could you have? Your mind is hazy and each time Caleb mouths at your throat you lose it a little more, but you vaguely replay memories in your mind. Caleb’s mindfulness, his perception, his endless kindness — but he’s like that with everyone, so how could you have known you were special beyond your friendship and shared past? Granted you probably got a little extra pampering from him — but you shared a home. Of course you’d get more if you saw him more.

“Good. I was never gonna tell you, y’know,” he breathes. His large hands gently ease you backwards and you comply, letting him press you against the mattress. It smells like a mix of him — that same oak body wash he’s used since he was a teen (thankfully you bullied him out of that terrible smelling cologne phase), and fresh detergent from the laundry he took care of earlier. You resist the urge to turn your head and bury it into the covers, inhale deep, for you’re sure it’d come off as a little strange.

“Never?”

“Never.” He rests his forearms next to your head, face mere inches away. He seems to like watching you, those dimly lit eyes of his boring into you. “I mean, I thought about it sometimes. But we’ve known each other what, sixteen years now? We played together since we were preschoolers,” he sighs, thumb brushing over your cheek. His face is so raw and open, flushed and longing. Like he can finally spill every dirty little secret he’s kept hidden forever. His thumb moves to swipe across your lip and you kiss it — innocently enough. His breath stutters.

Then you open your mouth, gently suck on the digit, and he stops breathing altogether.

“Mm…” You hum in agreement, though with the way Caleb’s eyes darken, you figure it more resembles a moan.

“Damn,” he curses, and experimentally swipes across your tongue. You shamelessly take his thumb in deeper, revel in the way his lips tremble and he bites them, as though to curb some thought or action that sprung in his mind in response.

“You’re friends with someone that long, you figure there’s no chance. Figured you saw me as a brother or something. I mean, I kinda did it to myself,” he speaks, but looks absolutely enthralled by your mouth around his thumb. The way you swirl your tongue around him, encouraging him to just let go. You think his words are half spoken on instinct with how dazed and red-faced he looks.

“Fuck , if I just knew…” Caleb hisses, and he leans forward for balance, forehead pressed against yours (he’s so warm) while his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, resting just below your navel. The proximity to your waistband makes you subconsciously squirm a little, and his hand presses firmer, stilling your hips. “I could’ve done this so much sooner.”

You try to murmur a response past his thumb but the welcome intrusion makes your words incoherent. He gently retracts it from your lips to press against them, saliva coating his thumb, your lips, and wetting your chin.

“What’s that, pipsqueak?” He murmurs. You feel his hand creep up to trace your abdomen, catch at your side and massage there mindlessly.

“For someone who wants to do this so bad…” you sigh, and look up at him, unamused, trying not to let your mild fluster show. It seems even pinned under him, you can’t help but want to be a bit of a brat in his presence. “You’re sure taking your sweet time.”

Caleb’s brow twitches and he completely stills, staring at you with those gorgeous sunset eyes of his up close. You watch his throat bob as he swallows, and his fingers on your torso squeeze, not painful, just a firm hold.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you?” he finally exhales, exasperation plain on his face. He affectionately rubs his forehead against yours, the gesture so sweet it makes your heart swell. “Don’t forget, you’re the one that spurred me on.”

And like a man on a mission, the sweet moment is gone, replaced by greedy lips and needy hands. His mouth is back on yours and you gift him an appeased hum, instantly lost in the warmth of lips and the way he kisses you like he’ll never kiss again. So heated, so, so perfect, and you reach your fingers to tighten in his hair, lift your hips to wrap your legs around his torso. You both sink into the duvet with the strength of his kiss, his hands shamelessly trailing up and down your torso, mapping it out, squeezing when he hears quiet noises and whines emerge from your throat.

You think Caleb enjoys the sounds you make most, because he’ll do anything and everything to draw them out of you, hands frisky and shameless. They’re calloused and rough in the best way and you squeeze his hair in approval, press fleeting kisses to the corner of his lips when you part to breathe. He laughs, happy, and you laugh in turn.

“It’s a little hot, don’t you think?” He murmurs, and uses that as his excuse to push the hem of your shirt past your chest, encourages you to slip your shirt off and sit with your bare torso.

The way he stares at your body, your chest, like there’s nothing else in the word makes your body singe. You reach a hand up to cover his wandering eyes, scoffing. “Don’t just stare, it’s embarrassing.”

“All that talk and you’re embarrassed when I look at you?” He gives your hand a few taps before prying it away, taking in the view just as shamelessly as he did before, if not more so. You’d smack his face with a pillow if he didn’t have your hand held so tightly. “Telling me not to look’s like telling a dehydrated man not to drink. It’s plain cruel,” he laughs, and pulls your hand to his lips to give your fingers a fleeting kiss. Your eyelids flutter alongside your heart, and he grins.

Satisfied with the view, he slides down on the covers (you have to loosen your legs to accommodate), and stares up at you with a playful, shit-eating grin, his chin rested perfectly above your chest. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Don’t ask, do,” you huff, turning your head away in mock annoyance. Caleb’s more than happy to oblige and hums his approval while his hands move to trace the contours of your chest, moves down to press a light kiss to one side, and is quick to focus his mouth where it’s sensitive, have the bud harden under his tongue and send shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

It even surprises you, how much you feel your face flame not just from pleasure, but pure embarrassment. This is Caleb , of all people. Not just some guy you started crushing on. Being this vulnerable and having his lips on your chest isn’t something you imagined even yesterday. If he saw you like this yesterday, you’d definitely die from shame. There’s not a glimmer of regret, but there’s heaps of embarrassment to spare and you bury your face into the pillow under you, tensing the more he plays. You knew nipples could feel good, but wow, they can feel good and his mouth on them sends shocks straight down your abdomen, makes heat settle low between your legs.

Finally, he pulls away, though his thumbs still graze over them, and he moves up to press a kiss to your jaw. “Don’t get all shy now. C’mon, show me that cute face of yours,” he hums, and you want to bury it even further being called cute (seriously, what the hell? You don’t know if it’s more embarrassing or insulting). But if only to show some semblance of control and confidence, you pull your head away and force yourself to meet Caleb’s adoring eyes, giving him a halfhearted glare with lips curled into a small pout.

“Looking at me like that only makes me wanna tease you more,” he murmurs, and moves to kiss your cheek (he’s so affectionate. It’s so much you almost don’t know how to handle it). And his hands slide down from your chest, settle at your waist and massage right above the band of your sweatpants. So close but not enough, the more his thumbs tease the more the heat becomes unbearable.

“Maybe you should use that mouth of yours for something other than talking,” you grumble, palms pushing Caleb’s head away. You huff with a side-turned head and peer at him from the corner of your eye, wiggling your hips. You couldn’t be more obvious.

“Demanding today, aren’t we?” He rubs his hands forward and back on your hips, trailing a slew of kisses down from the center of your chest to your abdomen, leaving flames in its wake. “Like what? I could make out with you until the sun rises, easy.”

The way Caleb looks at you, eyes flashing, you know what he wants. Those words to fall so reluctant from your tongue, to watch you drop your pride and ask. But Caleb’s had his way well enough, so instead of giving him the satisfaction of your words, you slide down your sweats and underwear, exhaling at the lack of restriction, the free air against your throbbing arousal. Caleb’s eyes go wide and you’re dragging his face between your thighs before he can retort, trying not to tremble from the absolute need that courses through your body. The thought of Caleb’s mouth on you, his tongue against you until your mind is numb.

“This.” You breathe, and Caleb can only let out a breathy chuckle.

“Whatever you say, your majesty,” he teases, smug but lets you guide his head, him dragging his hands down with it and across the planes of your thighs. They slide and down, palming close to your hips and earning him a small jolt, a bitten down noise.

Your fingers dig into his short hairs, dragging him down and rolling your hips to meet him halfway, urgent, needing. Caleb complies, gently mouthing at your inner thighs, biting at them (that gets a startled sound out of you that you instantly smother in fear of making too much noise.) And kisses and licks his way further up until he’s exactly where he needs to be, breaths hot and lips so close they could brush over you.

“To think you’re like this already…” he murmurs, cheeks flushed, and he dives his head down to slowly lick you into his mouth, your legs tensing and fingers shivering. His hands pet your thighs soothingly (it only makes you tremble more) and he sucks, holds your thighs so nice while they shake in his touch. He’s horribly slow, taking his sweet time to mouth against you, kiss against your aching heat and so gently take it into his mouth, painstakingly swirls his tongue. It’s not enough and you roll your hips into his mouth, mumbling curses.

“Dammit Caleb…” you groan, urging for more, grabbing and releasing at his hair, and his eyes flicker up to you, pupils blown and face a pretty red.

“Mm…” He hums, you shudder, and try not to burn at the sight of Caleb so pleased between your legs. Hands anchored to your thighs, mouth busy with a hardworking tongue as he eagerly lavishes you with attention. It’s good this time, not slow torture, and Caleb easily lets you rock your hips into his mouth, whine under the flat of his tongue and the sight of him between your legs. He pushes, holds you when you gasp and jerk into his touch and murmurs soothing hums while his mouth is busy on the taste of you. Your hips develop a rhythm of their own, chasing Caleb’s mouth over and over and when he briefly pulls back, he’s quick to stroke his fingers where his lips were, watch you sigh and and clutch at the parts of him you can reach.

“I wanna—“ he breathes, leans down to kiss the swell of your heat, laughs when you jump because of how swollen, how sensitive you are to his every move. You drag his face back down, his lips around you, not letting him finish the words he was trying to say. You just — his mouth — his warmth, you need, and you buck your hips into his touch, bursts of pleasure coming through you in waves the more his mouth moves in rhythm, the perfect pace he sets and the unfair way his tongue seems to do just the right thing to make you whine against bitten lips.

“Caleb,” you whisper, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. Caleb’s tactic changes, he’s using one hand to keep a steady grip on your thigh while the other reaches up stroke at your sensitive hip, then sneaks up to your nipple to tease it under his thumb and forefinger. His mouth remains occupied, tongue and lips unrelenting, and the dual pleasure is so much it almost feels like too much. But he moves, hot, mouth in tandem with your restless hips, confident and warm and the almost unbearable heat between your legs grows and grows, until you’re biting back a strangled noise and digging your fingers into Caleb’s scalp. You hold his head in place while you ride out the throes of pleasure, Caleb’s mouth easing you through it, still pressing and stroking with the heat of his tongue when the orgasm ebbs away. You have to squirm and push Caleb’s head away, panting and soaked in a sheen of sweat.

Caleb’s lips, nose, chin, are coated in you and he shamelessly licks what he can away, watches as you breathe, catch your breath amidst the aftershocks of your pleasure. Your entire body feels flushed with heat, and the only sound you’re capable of making are quiet gasps for a moment or two.

“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, presses a hand over his mouth and he’s scrambling off the bed, rushing to rifle through his drawers. He pulls out a bottle of lube and jerks his head to where you’re still settled on the bed, steadying your pulse. You’ve eased yourself to sit up on your elbows, so you can watch in your curiosity, see what’s got him so worked up. Seeing him still fully clothed while your pants lay sweat-ridden and bunched at your ankles, shirt tossed in some corner makes your face fill with heat.

“Can I—would you—“ he returns to the bed, crawls between your open thighs and presses his forehead to yours. The heat of his breaths make you dizzy, and you can feel the flicker of a flame despite just bursting with heat. “Fuck, I just…” he murmurs, moving his head down to rest against your shoulder, lips pressing against the jut of the bone. And the way his nose presses against you, he nuzzles against you and so dearingly asks makes the answer come far too easy. You inhale, stroke his cheek, and nod.

“Mhm,” you agree, moving your head to press a sweet kiss to Caleb’s temple. He groans, wastes no time coating his fingers and slipping them against you, stroking in a tease, then pressing in one.

It’s cold, you tense and Caleb mouths at your collarbone, murmuring “I got you,” while his fingers sits, letting you adjust and you relax to the chill, shudder to the way the digit settles in you, doesn’t feel like enough, and he moves.

Maybe — you think — you didn’t properly think this through. Because while you’ve a short respite from coming, now you have a finger inside you, a hand exploring every inch of your body it can reach, and lips playing with the soft patch between your neck and shoulder that has you sighing and subconsciously quivering. Somehow it’s all too much and not enough all too soon after — and you actively dig your teeth into your lip to keep quiet, not risk sounds traveling through the walls.

“So…” Caleb inhales, his lips travel down to kiss at your chest, lick at your nipples once more and they stand to attention at his efforts. “So damn warm…” You wonder if he means the heat from your body or the way you feel around his finger. His lips tease while his finger thrusts at a steady rhythm and when it becomes comfortable (and lacking). You start to grind into his touch, craving more, shuddering when a soft noise leaves his throat.

You exhale, peer at the pink cheeks of your childhood friend — hell, your best friend. You feel your heart melt, then your body melt in tandem when his finger slips out so he can ease two of them in, slowly stretching you. They move deep, curling inside you and with the just perfect brush of his fingertips, you let out a pitched gasp and pull a hand up to cover your mouth. Caleb doesn’t say a thing, instead makes sure to move against that bundle of sensitive nerves over and over, watches you tense and squirm the more he focuses his attention.

“You’re pretty good at keeping quiet,” Caleb praises, and moves his face up to draw you into a long kiss, mouth in sync with the way he fucks you with his fingers, steady and perfectly bent to leave you panting. You whine against him, chasing his fingers with your hips. He sucks on your bottom lip, pulling away with a dirty pop, lips glistening. “Can’t wait for the day you don’t have to hold back.”

“Hah—shit…” You curse, wanting to come up with a coherent response but your words catch in your throat, interrupted by gasps, and your mind can’t even conjure what to say to something like that, but you feel your body throb, your hips jump at his praise. Caleb hums, presses a kiss to your cheek, and slides down.

He does that thing where he looks up at you from between your legs, cheek rested on your thighs damp with sweat. His lips curl into that gorgeous, sinful grin that’s stupidly hot and infuriating all at once and you squeeze his hair in half-assed annoyance. He kisses one thigh, turns and sucks a gentle bruise into the other - fuck, why does that feel so damn good. And he busies his mouth with the taste of you, fingers working a slowly building rhythm that has your palm firm over your mouth and the other hand steady in his hair while you try — and fail, to not fall into a haze of pleasure. You almost want to curse, being so weak under his fingers and mouth. Flip the scene and give him a taste of his own medicine. But his tongue knows just what to do and he knows just the way to move his head to have you unable to do anything but let out choked gasps and rut into his eager mouth.

Though you take his fingers easily now, feel prepared enough to handle all he has to offer, he doesn’t stop. The sound of his fingers sliding in and out of you and his pretty, obscene mouth on you fill the otherwise silent room, save for your gasps and sighs. You curl against him and huff, biting your lip and using both palms to still his head.

“If you keep going, I’ll—“ you warn, because his fingers aren’t enough but his mouth is too much, and if you’re left a quivering mess you won’t be able to handle Caleb fucking you on top of it. Caleb hums, his glimmering eyes flicker up to you, and you think they crinkle in amusement. You’ve learned not to trust that face of his.

And of course, the dick , he keeps going. Holds you down with one hand so he can push and spread his fingers deep, taste you on his tongue as he sucks. It’s enough to have you arching your back, whimpering quiet noises into the pillow you bury your face into. Your hips squirm of your own according, the heat pooling in your gut and threatening to burst and you try to push his head away, gasp weak complaints. Too much if he doesn’t stop you’ll — But he’s relentless and overwhelming. Fingers curling, mouth moving, his hand gripping your waist. And your body accepts it all until that feeling crescendos again, you turning into a shaking mess as you whisper quiet curses into the pillow, try to escape his mouth but he licks and pumps his fingers into you all throughout it to prologue how your back arches, the high washes over you over and over. When you slowly relax, he pulls away with a messy mouth, leaving you with breaths labored and somehow still sane enough to sport a glare.

“I told you—“

“Sorry,” he says, and kisses at your navel while he watches you with enthralled eyes, like you’re a piece of stunning art. But his eyes aren’t apologetic in the least, and you’d think it right to demand a proper one if your heart wasn’t thundering so quick you think it’ll leap out your chest. He sighs, scoots up to press a kiss against your chin, and whispers, so quiet. “Can I…?”

You huff, try to steady your breathing, and zone into the dull ache between your legs and the empty feeling from losing his fingers. Of course you want it, want him, it’s a matter of already having been pleasured to hell and back by this man twice. You’re spent, even if the idea of Caleb nude and flushed against you is hot as hell.

“There’s a reason I tried to tell you…” you sigh, brush some slick hairs from his eyes and observe the dazed, greedy look in his eyes. He really just wants it all, doesn’t he? You always thought you were spoiled by Caleb, but maybe, there are times when you spoil him.

“Mmm… it’s just nice, seeing you lose your composure,” he nuzzles into your neck, breath warm and your entire body reacts to something so small, so soft. “But we’ve got all the time in the world. Next time.”

And he exhales so warm, pulls his head away and you immediately grab both cheeks, drag Caleb’s lips to yours and kiss him so sweetly it feels something akin to love. Your hips tingle, and the idea makes you absolutely dizzy, but you mouth it against his lips anyway.

“Finish what you started.”

Caleb doesn’t immediately answer or react, he simply observes you, watches the way your arms cling to him. For good measure, you wrap your legs around him and roll, right into the hard erection confined in his pants. He gasps, gripping the duvet beside your head.

“If… If it’s too much. Just pinch me. Or tap me a few times. Do whatever, really, shit,” Caleb hisses, and he’s finally stripping off that stupid bed shirt of his and tossing it unceremoniously across his room, breaths slow and deep as though to calm himself.

It’s not your first time seeing Caleb shirtless, but it is the first time you’re able to admire the full view in dim glory. Amidst the streaks of moonlight through the window, the red of his necklace sparkles. He wears it, even in his sleep, and you try not to think too much on how he must’ve cherished it. Treated it like a prized possession, because it makes a surge of happiness flood through you with a mix of guilt for never treating Caleb’s gifts or gestures just as precious.

“Oh, so when I stare, it’s a problem. But when you stare, it’s fine, huh?” Caleb chuckles, and his pants are kicked off with no shame. He’s so eager he doesn’t even try to make it sexy, he just looks like he’s dying to feel every inch of you, finally be able to feel the whole of you tight around him. It’s so silly and so Caleb you just have to laugh, and it’s nice when he laughs in turn, makes you feel serene.

“Think of it like payback,” You decide to say. Payback for making you come from his mouth and fingers when he knew you wanted to feel him inside of you. Caleb makes an approving noise, leans back over you, and the sight of his flushed, toned body with his necklace dangling down is way sexier than it has any right to be. He slides a hand up your thigh, gives it an encouraging squeeze when you tremble, and his lips find yours in a fleeting kiss.

“Guess I gotta do all I can to make up for it,” he whispers in a ghost of a kiss, and settles between your legs, erection strained in his underwear and words way too calm for someone who looks like he can’t stand waiting a minute longer. He shoves them down well enough with one hand and he springs free, eager and leaking at the pink tip. You think it’s almost pretty, the way it stands, twitches when you thumb his cheeks.

He captures your lips the same moment he lifts your thighs, lines himself where he had his fingers buried deep only a minute or two ago, and slowly, slowly pushes. Sighs into your mouth as he sinks into you, and you grab at his back, wrap your arms so tight around him as he just fills you, moves as you cling to him. You think the wait alone is torture when he finally settles deep, hips flush to yours and mouth swallowing any weak noises you utter. You’re still so sensitive and even just the feeling of his cock inside, barely moving, is enough to make you clutch at him.

“You feel so perfect,” he utters, shaking hands settled on the sides of your face, lips plush on your jaw. He buries his face in your neck, slowly, slowly moves out, and you can feel his entire body shaking on top of you as he pushes again, deep into you and fills you perfect. So hot inside of you, you can’t help but squeeze around him. He chokes against your skin, kisses at it while his hips steadily draw out—then you think he loses his composure a little. His hips sputter, and his pushes into you quicker, steady, and holy fuck is your body just quivering and you already feel a mess, heat between your legs near unbearable and Caleb’s cock stretching you open for him.

“Caleb…” You gasp, bite back the moans that want to continually spill from your throat while Caleb steadily pumps, in and out. It’s so tender, and even though your body is an absolute mess, you just need more and drag in Caleb with the strength of your legs wrapped around him, helplessly grind into his cock, and Caleb understands the message loud and clear. He shakes, kisses your shoulder, and pulls out to snap his hips against yours, murmurs small affirmations against your skin as he fucks you, heavy and deep and your body is a squirming mess, like it isn’t even your own. You’re whining and biting back every loud, broken noise that threatens to leave your mouth with the rock of his hips.

“Shit—Caleb, it’s—“ you gasp, be hums into your shoulder and looks at you with wild eyes while he pushes into you over and over. Your legs are a mess and you’re gasping, trying to focus on swallowing down the noises in your throat but Caleb’s driving you absolutely insane and when he positions himself just right, you’re letting out a sharp cry and your body arches into his touch.

“Don’t wake the whole neighborhood now.” He coos against your collarbone, and gently covers your mouth, palm flat so all you can do is groan against his hand, weak noises and sharp gasps muffled. Every inch of you feels sensitive, alight, and the hand not silencing you gently massages your chest while he fucks you deep into the mattress, the sounds of skin against skin filling the room. It’s filthy and you absolutely love it, even if your body is screaming it’s on fire, and all your nerves are alight from being so thoroughly handled.

“Mmn—!” You gasp, unable to even articulate how it feels to have Caleb rolling his hips into yours so damn hot while you can barely control the way your body reacts. You think he swells even more when inside you, thick and hot and nearly every thrust hitting you so you see stars. You gape, claw at his neck and anything you can cling to on him, while his movements gradually speed up and he pounds into you relentlessly, cries muffled by his palm.

“You have no idea how much I wanted this…” Caleb gasps, breaths heavy, lifting his palm and resting it sweetly on your face instead. He looks at you so damn adoring while he’s fucking you senseless, watching you gasp and start to squirm under him when the sensation builds upon too much. “Wanted you. Like this.”

“Gh… Y-Yeah…?” You somehow manage to choke out while your body has a mind of its own, squirming and shaking and Caleb’s hands hold you right where he needs you as he slides in and out of you again, pulls out so only the tip is in and snaps his hips against yours in a fluid motion. You wonder if it’s because your most recent orgasm was so close, left you so sensitive you feel like you’re already on the brink. You hang onto Caleb for purchase and try not to cry out as he pushes into you over and over and over.

“You’re way too hot. You feel way too—haah —good.” Caleb curses as he moves, hold your hips and reaches a hand down between the two of you to tease you with sweet fingers while he pumps into you. “You. Undone. Under me,” he murmurs, and your hips helplessly buck into his touch, fingers clutch him tight as he fucks you.

“Y-You…ah—Caleb,” you try to respond, but the way Caleb rocks his hips, and his hand wastes no time driving you mad, you feel that feeling build, build and build so quick, so perfect. You want to retort, say anything to flip his words on him, but you know you’re a gasping mess and can’t focus your mind enough to put up a decent argument. So you clutch at his slick skin, bury your fingers so deep it pales, and whine “I’m… I’ll… ‘M about to…”

Caleb hears you loud and clear, keeps the pace of him pumping into you and is always sure to angle the way your hips slot together perfectly, so each thrust hits you with a deep wave of pleasure and his fingers leave you weak.

“You always act so strong, so tough. It’s nice I can get you like this,” he speaks, and if your mind wasn’t in such fog you’d probably be a little annoyed, but all you can do is whimper at how his voice whispers low in your ear, and the way he circles his hips perfectly to make you gasp, clench, and make him groan in return.

That feeling approaches, the familiar feeling of being undone by Caleb and at the mercy of his mouth, fingers and thrusts. He murmurs sweet words against your lips, and it’s all you can handle when you’re biting your lip and your body is pulled taught like a string, shuddering and powerful as you feel a burst of pleasure like no other, so strong and prolonged you wonder if it’ll ever end, so much you actually see white. Caleb doesn’t relent on his thrusts, fucks you through it, and he doesn’t stop when you’re quivering either and suddenly it’s too much all at once. Your body is still in tremors and shakes as he grasps your hips firm, presses a soothing kiss to your temple as you start to squirm and let out weak noises.

It’s too much and too fast and you’re so sensitive and you can’t— “Caleb,” you choke out, body naturally moving to escape the sensation, but Caleb’s hands hold you steady.

“Want—“ he rasps, “want me to stop? All you gotta do is tap me,” he murmurs so sweet in your ear, and tears prick in your eyes as the pleasure, the sensitivity is so blinding you can’t keep them from your face. And you quietly cry and squirm but hold on tight, not tapping, not pinching. It’s torture but it feels terribly amazing in the best way, even if Caleb has to keep a firm hold so you don’t scramble from his grasp.

“Too much, I can’t, Caleb,” you sob, Caleb kisses the tears that fall down your cheeks so sweetly and proceeds to fuck you silly. Your heart is pounding, your whole body is a shaking over sensitive mess and the feeling is so intense your mind can barely formulate words. “I—please, fuck…” you babble, can’t string together full sentences and just whimper under him. Fuck if you’re never at someone’s mercy like this, you wonder if it’s better or worse that it’s Caleb.

“So damn cute,” he breathes out in broken fragments, breaths quickening as he thrusts deep, hard, accepts every whimper and plea that leaves your wet lips. “You can relax around me, trust me. Let me take care of you.”

“Ah…!” You wish you could respond, you really do, but the only thoughts you can formulate are pleads and Caleb, the endless pleasure bordering pain he pushes you through. He’s so sweet in your hair as his pace quickens and his breaths are shallow, ragged. His face is a damp mess and strings of hair cling to his forehead as he utters your name — your name, not ‘pipsqueak’, over and over. Whispers your name in your ears, mouths it on your temple, presses his lips against your neck as he sighs it. You melt and squeeze your teary eyes shut, clawing at Caleb and letting him pound you into oblivion. You feel fucking ruined and Caleb kisses your tears and pets your head all throughout it.

“Dammit, seriously, what am I gonna do with you…” He rasps, and you think your hazy mind can classify it as positive. His thrusts are quick and it’s not soon after that he’s suddenly groaning, hips going still as he holds deep inside you, trembling as he spills. Deep, warm. You quiver and finally find relief in his slowed thrusts, the way he holds himself with shaky breaths and bright red cheeks, sweat sliding down his temple. Slowly, he stills, panting, and when he’s nearly done shaking, he slowly pulls himself out. The feeling of both being empty and filled is filthy, but you haven’t the energy to burn on feeling embarrassed when you can barely form a sentence. You gasp, wipe at the tears that rolled down your face, and can’t keep the tiny quivers from racking through your body even after the high has passed.

“You okay, pipsqueak?” He whispers after, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You nod, mute, and have to give yourself a bit to be able to respond in full. He seems to understand that much, and rolls to the side so he can gently hold you in his affection.

“That was…wow,” you murmur, and bury your head into his damp chest, the sent of oak and sweat. “Can’t move…” The thought of so much as standing seems impossible, your brain is in this weird, pleasant fog and you can barely focus.

“Did I go overboard?” His laugh is light and raw, lips settled on your forehead.

“It was a lot,” you answer, and your fingers trace over his bicep. Who knew fighter pilots had to be so toned? “It’s hard to think but…” you hum, and adjust your buzzing limbs so you’re a little more comfortable. “It was… good.”

“Good. Guess I’ll put that on the list of things you like,” you feel his lips curl against your forehead, probably grinning. You don’t even have the energy to glare.

“You have a list?”

“In my mind,” he says, and you decide to pull back from his chest a little, if only to see his expression.

Sweat-ridden but sparkling with an air of pleasant satisfaction. Eyes alight, cheeks warm. Since when was Caleb so damn beautiful?

“Next time…” You look up at him with heavy eyes. Feel almost drunk as your body sags and your speech comes out in quiet rasps, throat spent from all the cries you swallowed down. “It’s your turn,” you run your fingers across his lean chest, feel the way his muscles jump with laugher and his heart is starting to slow into a steady rhythm. He’s so irritatingly attractive.

You’re not used to feeling so utterly spent, helpless after. Your legs would collapse under you like a fawn learning to walk if you tried anything right now. You’d like to see Caleb come undone under your fingers, unable to keep himself from writhing while you tease him endlessly. In that way, you’re both similar, you suppose, and you can hardly blame Caleb for the way he gets off on you clawing at him.

“Can’t wait,” he says easily, almost makes you more mad at how easily he accepts your words. He strokes your cheek, wipes the remnants of tears, and holds you comfortably in his palm. “You look so good when you’re a mess.”

“Hush now,” you sigh, and turn your head to kiss his palm. He pads your lip so gently, traces shapes across them (you think one is a heart). It’s so silly but so him and he continually manages to make your heart fill.

“I’m scared I’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.” He pulls you to him, buries his nose in your hair and strokes your back like he hasn’t seen you in years and needs to confirm your existence. “It feels like a dream. You in my arms. Kissing me. Wanting me.” He draws back so he can tilt your head up and peer into your eyes. You think the sun is starting to rise, his eyes are as clear as ever yet clouded with contentment and apprehension. “You like me, don’t you?” His hands hold you so sweetly, his eyes are so raw. “Pretty sure I’ve loved you as long as I can remember.”

You blink, try to process his words in the fog of your mind and feel yourself run warm when you’re able to take his words piece by piece and understand them, digest them in full. The word ‘love’ tickles your ears, and you try not to let the tears flow again (who knew being so wrecked made you stupidly emotional) and nod quickly, covering the hand that holds your cheek.

“Of course I like you. I’ve trusted and cared about you as long as I can remember.” Your hand on his chest stills, presses so you can hear the drum of his heartbeat that’s now relatively fast. You can’t judge, when your heartbeats are so heavy you feel them in the back of your throat. “I’ll love you back, someday. The way you love me. I’ve loved you like my best friend, as a person, for the longest, though.”

“I’ve waited so long to hear that…” Caleb sighs, your eyes flicker to the chain around his neck, and you silently vow to yourself to sometimes let go of your stubborn streak, take care of Caleb the way he loves to take care of you. You hum and nuzzle into his chest, basking in how warm he feels, skin against skin, heating you, like a pleasant wood fire on a cozy winter night.

You sigh, can’t bite back a small smile, and let your eyelids flutter, your weak body sink into the mattress as Caleb’s slow breaths and caresses lull you, goad you to rest.

Caleb’s skin, heat, the love and affection you feel encased in each featherlight touch draws you in, comforts you enough to let your consciousness fade. Like a soothing lullaby.

It’s perfect, knowing you’ll wake up in his arms the next morning.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

Okay now you got me really interested SO here's the itwall prompt: cphil and cdream doing scar care

well if you insist..... (context)

/dsmp /rp

"On your stomach, lad."

Dream chuckled at the gentle command, his robe hitting the ground as he shrugged it off. Commands like these were casual and comfortable between the two of them; Dream knew that he could disobey if he wanted. He usually settled on a bit of playful back-talk. "You could take me to dinner first?"

"I cooked your dinner myself three hours ago."

"Okay, fair."

Slowly, Dream lowered himself to the mattress, gathering a pillow in his arms and placing it beneath his chest for a bit of extra padding. The candlelight danced across the dramatic valleys of his skeleton and the rips and tears of his skin, casting uneven shadows across his pale back. The sun dropped below the treeline a while ago, and the arctic enjoyed a peaceful and windless evening. Philza proposed that they try a bit of anti-scarring treatment before bed, and Dream agreed to give it a try.

Philza removed a bit of dressing-- a piece of gauze taped over a fresher wound on Dream's side-- and Dream could feel Phil's weight shift on the mattress as he leaned back and observed.

Feeling eyes on him, Dream peaked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"You'd think I'd be used to seeing your scars by now." The lid of a container popped open. "But it still hits me sometimes."

"Do they gross you out?"

"Nah. They're just scars. I have them, too." From his limited vantage, Dream saw Phil's blonde hair spill over his shoulder, pooling at his collarbone. His hair was loose. He was dressed for bed. "I'm just... always surprised by how deeply humans can hate."

Dream didn't hate his scars. Well, he hated some of them. The worst of them were on his back. A bracket smile, drawn with unsteady lines. The word "bitch," written in a broken, brutalist font.

"I'm going to massage some silicone gel on the scars," Phil said, "in little circular motions. It might take a while, mate."

"Mm-hmm."

Dream flinched when Phil's fingers, cool from the silicone, touched between his shoulder blades. The temperature simply surprised him. Phil whispered a quiet "You alright?" before proceeding, and upon getting permission in the form of a nod, moved his fingers firmly across the expanse of a scar. It might've been the bracket smile. Dream didn't quite remember its placement.

"The pressure will help the edges flatten," Phil explained in a low voice, "and the jelly moisturizes it to help the discoloring."

The skin was sensitive. As Phil pressed his fingers in, the nerves responded by breaking into chills. Dream's next exhale was shaky.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you."

"No-- No, you're not. I-- fuck, it's just sensitive."

Philza recognized the effects of pleasure when he saw them. "Mm."

It took twenty minutes to finish the massage. Twenty long, vulnerable minutes of squirming and sighing, fighting back the urge to groan. Something about it was so primally satisfying. His skin has been begging for gentle treatment for months. Begging for Philza's fingers along his ribcage, his stomach, his chest, his hands. Even the deep scar along the edge of his jawline got Philza's attention. The slime of the silicone was cold in the winter air, but not uncomfortable.

The candlelight illuminated Phil's golden eyelashes. "Still alright?" he asked, his fingertips on a long scar across Dream's lower abdominal muscles.

Dream nodded, a small smile on his lips.

[pkmoth]

THE ASK-A-PALOOZA HAS STARTED!!! [AUGUST 4th–31st]

Happy asking, and happy answering!!! Askers, make sure to read people's intros/FAQs before asking stuff, and participants, make sure to have fun and pace yourselves!! If you're an artist, make sure to take breaks and stretch regularly :]

Also, in case you missed it (because it was kind of spontaneous and recent), I will be reblogging all event related posts to @motherbound-askapalooza!! If you don't want me archiving your posts, just let me know!!

ALSO also, if you're not on the list but decide you want to participate, you can still join mid-event!! All are welcome :D

PARTICIPANTS:

(I tried summarizing your intros in 1-2 sentences, let me know if anything seems off!!)

FULL MONTH:

*@defector-commander [INTRO] - A canon divergent AU where Claus malfunctions two years into the timeskip and breaks free of his brainwashing, going into hiding inside the chimera lab.

*@askmagicantprince [INTRO] - Magicant!Ninten AU! Everything is perfect in Magicant :)

@pk-ghost [INTRO] - Ness and Lucas take a break from SSB to visit different worlds!

*@commandernachos (most weekends + fridays) [INTRO] - A Chimera Ness and Porky AU!

@turnaboutfromnowhere [INTRO] - A Mother 3 x Ace Attorney crossover AU, where askers take the role of Phoenix Wright in Claus's trial for the murder of "Mr. Pig".

*@jefferson-earthbound [INTRO] - A Jeff RP account!

*@stearix-ask-magikin [INTRO] - An AU where Lucas is raised by Locria after Hinawa goes missing and Flint spends all his time trying to find her.

@kerushi-lemonz [INTRO] - Their Reliving the 80s AU! Tatsuro (Ness) and his friends are having strange dreams where they have different identities (their mother series counterparts).

@nucas-roof [INTRO] - Ness, Lucas, and the OMINOUS HOLE IN THE CEILING?!

@askfuelcas [INTRO] - Lucas and Fuel, featuring Claus as well!

*@ask-commander-arild [INTRO] - Post-Mother 3, the pigmask army is repurposed by Claus in he name of peace. Arild, a former captain of the old army, is now the commander of the new army.

@ghostbox99 [INTRO] - Porky wakes up in an abandoned city one day, with only an old computer (and you, the askers) to keep him company.

*@theworldreturning [INTRO] - A post-Mother 3 AU, where the new world takes place in an alternate post-Mother 2 universe (with the inclusion of the Nowhere Islands).

@quirkyearthboundinspireddinner [INTRO] - The protagonist of eggnogisdead's comic! Ten years after the events of Earthbound, Giegue's planet wages war against earth.

@butacyanide [INTRO] -The Earthbound characters!

*@daily-dose-of-lucas [INTRO TBA] - Ask Lucas!

NOT FULL MONTH (in order of week(s) participating):

@misticfog (week 1) [INTRO] - Li'l Miss Marshmallow!

@tonys-room (weeks 1-2) [INTRO] - Mostly canon compliant, except Tony has PSI and the ability to see through the fourth wall.

@twothpaste (weeks 1-2) [INTRO] - Their Intermission AU! A modern AU of the Earthbound/Mother 3 casts in college, dealing with real-world problems (and, of course, playing D&D).

*@judgment-days (weeks 1-2) [INTRO] - Corruption AU trio! King Lucas and a severely mushroomized Ness are brought in by Giygas and Cosmic Commander Ninten for questioning.

*@kellanzy (weeks 2-3) [INTRO] - Lovebound AU: a post-Mother 3 AU where all the protagonists (and Giegue) meet in the newly made world.

@projectc-114 (weeks 2-3) [INTRO] - Takes place after Claus is kidnapped and brainwashed, but before he becomes the commander. The scientists at the lab call him C-114.

*@pkmoth (weeks 2-4) [INTRO] - Swap AU Claus and Lucas in Smash Mansion! (intro TBA)

*@tanejineri (week 4) [INTRO] - An AU Claus called Commander Samuel!

PRE-EXISTING ASKBLOGS JOINING:

*@plutothenotdwarfplanet [INTRO] - A gieeg OC!

*@masterporky [INTRO] - A Pokey/Porky Minch RP blog!

*@ask-the-fever-four [INTRO] - Mayhem AU!

*@ask-clausten [INTRO] - Clausten! >:D

*up for rp

[theresattrpgforthat]

i want to destroy the god king and begin an anarchist uprising. culminating in participating in the aftermath building a new world

You and me both buddy. Let’s get started.

THEME: Destroy God

Dethrone Skeleton God, by emmy verse.

DETHRONE SKELETON GOD. THAT IS ALL YOU HAVE TO DO.

In this gmless role playing game you will set out on a journey to find and dethrone the aforementioned god. You will need some d6s, a d12, and some writing materials.

This game pulls a lot of inspiration from some pretty stellar games, including No Stone Unturned, EXTRACAUSAL, Trophy, and Blades in the Dark. You will play racing against three Fallout Tracks, which track the collapse of the material world, the immaterial world, and the Skeleton God’s Power. When all tracks are full, the game is over, and you narrate how the world ends.

If nobody in your group wants the burden/responsibility of running a game, this game is an excellent option as it is both GM-less and lightweight. It’s only 16 pages long and covers creating location elements and exploring them as a group. Everything is collaborative, so if you’re interested in games that let you come up with a story together as you go, you might want to check out this game.

Dead Gods, by Trollish Delver Games.

After the Cataclysm of Heaven it all changed. Murdered gods fell from the sky, sundering the land and casting their sacred relics about the world. From the woodwork crawl Warcults, scavengers of god-relics to further their own twisted gains. The Eternal seek power over death itself. The Order of the Stars seek relics to unlock god-like omniscience. The Pale Druids imbibe relics to acquire power over nature itself. The Black Maw will create a new, hungrier god under their control. 

Pick up a lovingly-designed weird cult and pit them against your friend in a desperate effort to grab a sacred god-relic in this miniatures skirmish game. Each player will control a number of different kinds of war cult members, and there are 4 war cults to embody in the upcoming skirmish. Great for PvP and lovers of combat, but if you want narrative you’ll want to pick up something else or mostly RP it out. You can also check out Unholy Scavengers, for more relics, more scenarios, more models - more more more!

Karanduun - Make God Bleed, by makapatag.(@makapatag)

Karanduun is a modern Filipino Epic RPG about worthless heroes dismantling God, whatever cycle of oppression that must be.  Inspired by modern Filipino folklore and culture. You play as young heroes who must make their legend known and become a legendary Karanduun by making God (whichever oppressive system and tyrant that is) bleed.

Lovers of Kill Six Billion Demons will probably get a big kick out of this game. The god Batala is already dead, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for some rebellion of your own. There are demons, corrupt angels, and other Kings of the Earth to defeat, in a post-American world inspired by the Philippines. If you’re looking for some narrative play, this game has got you covered, with rules inspired by Exalted 1e and PbtA. You can check out the physical version of this game on SoulMuppet’s website!

Skorne, by Dreaming Dragonslayer.

You are renegades, part of mankind’s insurrection against SKORNE who is devil prince, commander of demon rulers and their armies, and the darkness that reigns. Overthrow the evil Tyrants. Free chained captives. Fight to the last man.

Part of the NSR movement, Skorne is inspired by media such as Berserk, MORK BORG, and games like Dark Souls and Elden Ring. The game itself is only 4 pages long, with a really interesting system for character creation. You roll for your abilities and then use their values to determine your starting kit. The language in the game is also great for putting you into the fiction, such as the instructions found for character name choice:

“In the beginning, give thy renegade a name, though it will not save them.”

You want gritty and dire circumstances? You want to kill demon princes? You wanna play a game with random tyrant generation? This is for you.

Extreme Meatpunks Forever, by Sinister Beard Games.

"In the beginning, there was meat. A decaying chunk of flesh from a dying god, hurtling through the void of space, thousands of miles wide. A million eyes, a billion hands grasping for purchase against nothingness itself.  This is where we live.”

EXTREME MEATPUNKS FOREVER is a tabletop roleplaying game where you’ll play as a gang of queer antifascists in a strange place called Meatworld. Spinning through space on the screaming corpse of a dead god under the glow of an absent sun, the people of Meatworld harvest its flesh to make their technology.

Embody your queer rage and kill fascists in meat-mechs in Extreme Meatpunks Forever. A PbtA game, this option is narrative-heavy and allows you to pick from some pretty metal weapons, including (but not limited to) Excellent Seasoning, A Bit Stick What Has Shrapnel In It, and Deathfucker Cannon. In your downtime, you can kiss your friends and work to heal and deal with your trauma. If you want a game that feels metal and also presents you with extremely punchable enemies, this is your game!

Other Recommendations

If you want some more recommendations you can also check out the Attack and Dethrone God Jam on itch.io, or my Revolution recommendation post.

If you’re interested in what happens after you end the world, then I recommend my Post-Apocalyptic Community Building recommendations!

[lucifersresources]

fleetwood mac // rumours rp meme

edit/alter/change pronouns etc as you see fit!  

second hand news.

there's nothing to say.

someone has taken my place.

i got nothing on you.

there's nothing to do.

i ain't gonna miss you when you do.

i've been tossed around enough.

i know you're hoping to find someone who's gonna give you peace of mind.

i'm just second hand news.

dreams.

you want your freedom.

who am i to keep you down?

thunder only happens when it's raining.

players only love you when they're playing.

i keep my visions to myself.

it's only me who wants to wrap around your dreams.

have you any dreams you'd like to sell?

never going back again.

let me in.

she broke down.

i'm never going back again.

you don't know what it means to win.

come down and see me again.

don't stop.

you'll see things in a different way.

don't stop thinking about tomorrow.

it'll be here better than before.

yesterday's gone.

why not think about times to come?

why not think about times to come, and now about the things that you've done?

if your life was bad to you, just think what tomorrow will do.

life was bad to you.

all i want is to see you smile.

it takes just a little while.

i never meant any harm to you.

don't you look back.

go your own way.

loving you isn't the right thing to do.

how can i ever change things that i feel?

if i could, baby i'd give you my world.

you can go your own way.

you can call it another lonely day.

tell me why everything turned around.

songbird.

for you, there'll be no more crying.

no more crying.

for you, the sun will be shining.

when i'm with you, it's alright.

i know it's right.

to you, i'll give the world.

to you, i'll never be cold.

i love you like never before.

i wish you all the love in the world.

i wish you all the love in the world, but most of all, i wish it from myself.

the chain.

damn your love.

damn your lies.

if you don't love me now you will never love me again.

you don't love me now.

you will never love me again.

you make loving fun.

you make me happy with the things you do.

this feeling follows me wherever i go.

i never did believe in miracles.

i never did believe in miracles, but i've a feeling it's time to try.

i never did believe in the ways of magic.

i never did believe in the ways of magic, but i'm beginning to wonder why.

don't break the spell.

you make loving fun.

i don't have to tell you, but you're the only one.

you're the only one.

you make loving fun, it's all i wanna do.

i don't want to know.

i don't wanna know the reasons why our love keeps right on walking down the line.

i don't wanna know the reasons why.

i don't wanna stand between you and love.

i just want you to feel fine.

the truth had come down now.

take a listen to your spirit, it's crying out loud.

you say you love me.

you say you love me, but you don't know.

now you tell me that i'm crazy.

oh daddy.

you know you make me cry.

how can you love me?

i don't understand why.

how can you love me? i don't understand why.

if there's a fool around, it's got to be me.

you soothe me with your smile.

you're the best thing in my life.

why are you right when i'm so wrong.

i'm so weak but you're so strong.

i can't walk away from you.

gold dust woman.

take your silver spoon and dig your grave.

lousy lovers pick their prey.

they never cry out loud.

did she make you cry?

did she make you cry, make you break down, shatter your illusions of love?

did she shatter your illusions of love?

is it over now?

pick up the pieces and go home.

rulers make bad lovers.

you better put your kingdom up for sale.

silver springs (super deluxe).

i would be your only dream.

did you say she was pretty?

did you say that she loves you?

she loves you.

i don't wanna know.

i'll begin not to love you.

i said i loved you years ago.

tell myself you never loved me.

can you tell me was it worth it?

was it worth it?

time cast its spell on you, but you won't forget me.

you won't forget me.

time cast its spell on you.

i know i could have loved you.

i know i could have loved you, but you would not let me.

i'll follow you down.

the sound of my voice will haunt you.

you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you.

was i just a fool?

give me just a chance.

[acting-pterygii]

crazy things are being cooked up in the hamlet, prince of denmark discord server right now…

last year we subjected our characters to the hell of the Hunger Games— and this year, we’re putting them through hell again! although, hopefully murder-less. Welcome to Bards High, the official hamserver summer 2024 roleplay. where we take our favorite little guys (including a certain childrens’ cartoon icon??) and force them to go through the highs and lows of the American Educational System! no, i have no idea why it’s in america. we unanimously decided, i suppose (freedom democracy oil 🇺🇸🦅🔥) it’s shaping up to have so much fluff, suspense, good banter, gay pining, not-gay pining, missing parents, dead squirrels, and DRAMA already, and i can’t wait to see what WILD things we come up with this time around.

although, i may have gotten a little ahead of myself with the “no murder” part. this is a shakespeare-themed rp, after all…

more of the cast + bonus art below the cut!

@cleverclove plays Laertes, Rosalind, Dora, Lady Macbeth (not pictured) and various side characters, should the need arise

@moonlarked plays Horatio

@withasideofshakespeare plays Hotspur, Kate, and Malcolm (latter two not pictured)

@veil-of-exordia plays Polonius and Reynaldo (not pictured)

@hamletthebrain (predictably) plays Hamlet and Richard

@lost1ndaydream plays Margaret and Hal (not pictured)

@angel-of-fallen-dreams plays Mercutio, Ophelia, Osric, Rosencrantz, and Moth (latter two not pictured). also, probably important to mention that this ophelia design is NOT canon! college au ophe is much more goth, I just based her design off my memory.

@acting-pterygii, otherwise known as myself, am playing Benvolio and Beatrice

this is definitely missing characters, but these are the main and most active players for now! have a good day, oh, and whatever you do, DON’T touch the big yellow bucket.

[pawthorn]

I’m still trying catch up on last week’s episode, but I want to talk about Taliesin’s invisible character traits and Matt’s ability to reveal them.

Of all the CR cast, Taliesin’s characters are least likely to “let me tell you my backstory.” They are reticent until it’s necessary.

Vox Machina had been going for years before Percy revealed that his family had been killed. Molly only admitted his amnesia after faced with questions about Cree. Caduceus didn’t spill about lilies and dreams till the last few episodes of the campaign.

On top of this, Taliesin often gives his characters invisible character traits. Things you wouldn’t know for sure unless that character verbally confirmed it. And Taliesin, of all the cast, is least likely to offer that information up unless it’s relevant. Even on 4-Sided Dive, he keeps his characters’ inner workings under-wraps. So how do we ever learn it?

Matt Mercer.

I’ve talked about this a bit with Caduceus before, but Matt really made an effort to give Taliesin a chance to communicate that Caduceus is aro/ace. The demeanor of multiple NPCs shifts with Caduceus. You can see Matt feeling out whether this character would flirt with Cad, how far that would go, if the time was right. (This is why the Eadwulf/Caduceus ship blossomed so suddenly in C2. There was pretty obvious interest on Eadwulf’s side, just not the right timing to facilitate Cad turning him down.) Finally, the meat-lady was bold and opportunistic enough to go for it, and Tal was able to naturally RP Cad’s disinterest. Plenty of people had speculated that Cad was aro/ace, but that moment let it be spoken and understood in-universe.

Ashton’s chronic pain is even trickier to bring to light. It’s been speculated, of course, but how could it come out naturally? Matt has made it a point to have multiple NPCs who were strangers touch or try to touch Ashton, which is always rebuffed. So that let us know that Ashton is touch-averse with people they don’t trust. But that wouldn’t necessarily relate to chronic pain (the touch aversion might well pre-date the pain.) So this time when Imogen and FCG pushed into Ashton’s mind, Matt let FCG inhabit Ashton’s body. And that fantastic choice allowed this invisible trait to be known.

Watching a DM show that level of attention and care with a character, always makes me so happy. There’s so many things to do as DM, so many plates to spin, it can be easy to gloss over or miss opportunities if players don’t initiate them. Matt is great at bringing secrets to light, helping players reveal the core of their characters.

I just wanted to take a second to appreciate that.

[elvensemi]

I'm Publishing Serial Webnovels

Hi guys! I'm @elvensemi, and some of you might know me from writing Dragon Age fanfic Keeping Secrets, or from writing weird gargoyle porn with @unpretty, or from that time I accidentally told a popular blog I write dragon porn on my main blog @solitarelee, or maybe from that one fanfic where the knight with a crossdressing kink fails at slaying a dragon so hard he gets seduced!

I've graduated college, and you know what that means! Student loans Free time! And so I'm finally pursuing my long term dream and publishing serial webnovels. The short version is: ebooks, I'm publishing ebooks via Patreon to see if it works because I don't want to deal with Amazon and marketplaces. Chuck Tingle does it, kind of!

I am writing such things as!

The Problem with Faeries An urban fantasy series for fans of Holly Black, featuring faeries and a librarian who has been cursed by a witch to turn into a tiny dog at night.

Everything at Once A coming of age fantasy novel set in a post-post-apocalyptic world full of many monsters and very few humans, with a nonbinary (genderfluid) protagonist and a rotating cast of gods and monsters.

The Demon Isles An adult romance series set in the same world as Everything at Once, this one's for the monsterf*ckers. Step into the shoes of an escaped slave who's been stranded in Fantasy Australia But All The Dangerous Things Can Be Seduced.

A Place Among the Stars An adult sci-fi political space opera that is also technically just solidly omegaverse sm*t plus space dragons. That's right, one of my friends dared me to write omegaverse and I overdid it and now they're aliens! All for you my friend.

Novelizations of works that previously existed only as RPs, such as Sanctuary and The Kingdom of Aeris.

AND SO MUCH MORE.

For $5 you get access to SFW material, and for $10 you get access to that and the things that are not SFW. You can view a full summary of the serials I'm working on at tinyurl.com/SemiSerials , or click the read more.

The Demon Isles (NSFW, Second Person)

Oceanside is a world full of elves and gods, monsters and magic. You, however, a human with no magic, no martial training, and a fear of... most things. Stranded on an unfamiliar island full of monsters, you must learn to harness humanity’s true power in order to survive. The issue with that is, as far as anyone can tell, humanity’s true powers are friendship and fuckability.

The Demon Isles is a erotic, second-person monsterfucking romp through the dangerous Demon Isles. The second person character is referred to by gender neutral terminology and they/them pronouns, physical appearance left ambiguous. Sex scenes have two versions with different sets of genitalia for the main character. Tags and content warnings are available for each chapter.

The Problem with Faeries (SFW, Third Person)

The problem with faeries is that we love them. We know all the sharp and cruel ways they twist us apart and we love them with a helpless, hopeless foolishness that never fades until it destroys us.

Bree is a human living in Valesport, a small town on the east coast of the United States that functions as a secret haven for the supernatural. As a cursed human, it’s one of the safer places for her... at least, safe from other humans. Everything else Valesport has to offer remains a threat. She’s already had her run-ins with werewolves, vampires, and whatever the hell Jean Cernunnos is... so, in retrospect, she was probably due to get into trouble with the Fae.

A fan favorite finally finding a venue of publication, The Problem with Faeries is a SFW urban fantasy with a side of romance perfect for fans of Holly Black. It is third person and follows the point of view of the protagonist, Bridget “Bree” Corey, as she finds herself tangled up trying to navigate faerie drama and her own personal feelings, neither of which she is particularly equipped to handle.

Everything at Once (SFW, First Person)

Babs wants everything the world has to offer... everything except what it’s actually prepared to hand over. As the eldest child of the ruling noble family--or what passes for it--of the only human village remaining old and large enough to still have a ruling noble family, even if just in name, Babs’s whole life has been laid out in front of them since the moment they were born. And they want none of it. However, after a bold escape from the village they knew all their life, they find themselves adrift in an unfriendly world of monsters and magic that seems much larger and much less friendly than they had hoped.

Everything at Once is a SFW fantasy novel set all over the world of Oceanside as our determined protagonist, Babs, attempts to explore all there is to explore and experience all there is to experience (it is possible they have not thought this through). Babs is a non-binary, gender fluid illusionist referred to varyingly by he, she, and they pronouns based on presentation. The story is a first person mixed POV exploring a wide range of characters and topics, but always staying focused on the many transformations of the main character as they learn what it is they want... and what it is to want.

Future Projects: Projects that are in development but do not have a set release date yet.

A Place Among the Stars [Working Title] (NSFW)

A Place Among the Stars is a NSFW erotic political space opera featuring Omegaverse style aliens and also space dragons, amongst other alien races. It features two protagonists: an exiled and excommunicated Saint who once led a cult that threatened the peace and stability of his homeworld, and a mid level government official presiding over the walled ghetto where the Ab’ed keep all foreign visitors and immigrants to their planet. They quickly find themselves entangled: politically, as the Saint once again threatens the stability of the world around him--in more ways than one--and sexually, as the tension between the two reaches a fever pitch.

Sanctuary (NSFW, Third Person)

Most people would consider Ren unlucky. After all, she’s been homeless since she was a child, has no living family she knows of, and she was recently kidnapped by sex traffickers and ripped away from the city she had been living in for years. But as far as Ren is concerned, she’s the epitome of good luck: not only has she survived all the things life has thrown at her, but she’s escaped said sex traffickers and even found shelter in an abandoned, boarded up cathedral. The fact that the cathedral, undisturbed for a century or more, is home to a guardian whose only experience with the world is violently murdering intruders, well... once again, whether that’s good or bad luck is based purely on interpretation.

Sanctuary is a NSFW urban fantasy erotic romance featuring a cis female protagonist and a male (as these things go) gargoyle love interest, as well as a mix of other romantic interests (primarily M/F with some F/F or NB/F thrown in). Tags and content warnings are available for each chapter. This fan-favorite returns in serialized, ebook form for easy reading. Follow Ren’s journey anew from mixed perspectives as she explores the streets of Valesport and finds something she’s never had before; a place to call home.

[roleplayhonestybox]

Am I too old for this? Okay I just turned 40 this year and I’ve been roleplaying since I was 16. I took a break from it for some years because my real life partner didn’t like it and thought it weird. I came back to it in my thirties and found someone else who didn’t mind the lifestyle (yeah I’m learning this is a lifestyle lol). When I met my ex I had just gotten into k-pop. So I liked certain groups and such and liked using those faces and others in the genre.

Things got trippy when people found out I was 30+ at some point and suddenly I was branded some pretty harsh things. The thing that hurt was, in all the time I was rping with these people I never once did anything disgusting or creepy to them. They just told me that someone my age was gross in rp. They never took into account that I abhor such actions from anyone. It just hurt to be shunned for nothing.

Fast forward to now and I’m back after a second hiatus. I think I’m either too old or I’m in the wrong communities. What happened to using face claims for ocs and being able to rp as someone who may not be your actual age? Why did that become a problem? Why do people assume such heinous things? Why have some people DONE some of those things and cast a stain on others?

I don’t want to sound so down but I just feel like I’ve lost something magical in the sense that yes I still love cheesy storylines, yes I love plotted angst, yes I love crack rps sometimes, yes I enjoy writing with peoples favorite characters, no I don’t have to have romance and smut but won’t shy away, and yes I do rp characters who’s ages range from 22-30 and up. (Let’s be honest when we started rping most of us rped people who were older than us.)

Why do I feel so left out? (And yes I do still use k-pop fcs. I let character dictate the face I use.)

In some positive news I want to thank this account for giving me a safe space to speak about this. (At least I hope I’m safe.) I wish you all find the partners and storylines of your dreams!

You aren’t too old. Your ideal partners are out there. Good luck 💙

[hyperfixatingonfoolishthings]

Rules

No NSFW asks

No ship asking if it's family shipped with family

No asking for art, I have a main account for that already.

No hate or rude asks

No homophobic asks (or transphobic)

There WILL be swearing, and most likely gore, just a heads up. Suggestive stuff is also possible.

Have fun and ask away!

(More stuff under cut.)

I DO NOT LIKE ASK GAMES. I like tag games, I like reblog games, I DESPISE ASK GAMES. PLEASE DON'T INCLUDE ME IN ASK GAMES.

If you like my stuff, please reblog it. Liking does nothing to support me.

You can rp in my ask box, BUT! if you are continuing a conversation in character, please reblog, don't send in another ask.

I understand that we need to help with 🍉 but please do not send in asks about it. I want the war to end, we all do, and I want the multiple of families to survive as well, but I don't want anything political or "negative" on my blogs. It's important to spread the news, but me and my blogs are not the places to do that.

Alright that's all I can think of right now love you byyyeeee.

Main: @roseworkshop

Main TF2 cast: @askblog1

Bbieal: @askblog2

Face: @i-make-things-into-faces

SPOICY 🥵: @freaky-corner-of-the-crying

OC ask blog: @askjayjayngang

MeeM: @healthcareguytf2

Daily scout: @ledailyscunt

Sniper ask blog: @the-handsome-lad-that-did-it

Cannibal blog: @levihuntcamp

Alter ego: @alanlazycave

PINK!!: @malymakeupstudio

Medifucker: @tiny-desk-medicfucker

Hehe: @nightmares-and-dreams-come-true

[ya-boi-haru]

If I had a nickle for every time I had a dream that involved me meeting a Fable smp cast member cause we were involved in some sort of irl roleplay thing, but plot twist it was actually happening and I was the only one who could see this was beyond a silly rp game, but was trying to think it wasn't because they knew what they were doing...

I'd have 2 nickles... which isn't a lot... but it weird that it's happened twice...

[lookinghalfacorpse]

Thinking about parallels and repeats again.... ← 🖋️

me too

/dsmp /rp

It's hard to dig graves in frozen ground.

Most of the dogs who died under Technoblade and Philza's care were buried somewhere in the forest that surrounded their home. It was a forest She created, after all, so it felt right to give both body and soul back to Her. Whether they died in battle, in birth, or in old age, they lay beside each other in the frozen, arctic ground.

Technoblade was steeping his tea when he noticed that Dream was standing by the graves, near a freshly unearthed patch of dirt.

That morning, they had to bury one of their senior dogs. An older female, small in comparison to her peers, but quick and powerful in her youth. Each night, she slept at the fireplace and let the warmth settle the ache in her hips. That morning, she didn't wake. Philza found her body in the early hours of the day-- the crows had laid a few gifts on her back. Pinecones, leaves, and bits of metal. Technoblade dug the grave later, fighting past layers of ice and snow. Dream was quiet.

Leaving his tea on the counter, Technoblade went outside to join him. He walked behind him, wordlessly, and paused.

"Why do dogs die so... so quick?" Dream asked. His voice was strong and clear. He wasn't crying.

"Well, to Moxie's credit," Techno replied, "she lived about 10 years. Give or take a few months. That's pretty long for a wardog."

"No, that's-- I'm--" Frustrated, Dream spun to face him before taking a deep breath and casting his eyes towards the grave again. "I'm 23," he said, "10 years isn't long."

Technoblade was 50 when he escaped the ring, and he didn't heal until he was 70. He spent 20 long years sobbing into Philza's neck and re-training his exhausted muscles. Re-training his instincts. Re-training his mind. Now, Dream stood before him with bandages stretched across all four limbs, and Techno worried that he wouldn't have time to heal from this.

"23 years isn't long, either," Techno said. "Or 40, frankly. Or 100. You should try askin' Philza what qualifies as 'a long time,' an' he'll give you some stupid number like 5000." He stepped forward. "10 years was a long time for Moxie. She was hurtin'."

Dream nodded, his lips quaking.

"And 1 year was a long time for you," Techno added.

Dream crossed his arms across his torso, fighting the cold. He was much thinner than he used to be. "True," he admitted.

"And ten minutes is a long time for my tea to still be steepin'. Let's get inside."

[white-fatalis]

Here's my meta on why the interpretation of "Grimm is an evil asshole who enslaves and/or mind controls the troupe" is literally my beloathed!

This was originally written for a hot takes meme on my rp blog, but I ended up liking the analysis enough to want to post it in the public tag. Had to edit my salt out a bit because I was venting over people in the past coming into an rp server I mod for and insisting Grimm is canonically some abusive slave driver LOL

There is canonical evidence to the contrary. Imo, it feels like taking the game's propaganda from the townsfolk and WL and not looking past surface level. And a lot of the game's plot has "things aren't what they seem on the surface and what is stated is often false" (like 'guys fr the valiant knight saved the kingdom').

Most people get this take from Brumm's dialogue. However, this interpretation is directly contradicted by Brumm's actions and Nymm's dialogue. The entire banishment ending is about Brumm questioning Grimm and the troupe. Mind controlled people... obviously... don't have the capacity to do that. Sure, you could say "well, maybe Grimm trusts Brumm enough to let him be free, the rest of them aren't" but - what, Grimm isn't smart enough to keep all of his "slaves" on a leash? He wouldn't see Brumm's general self changing on a downward path and feel a need to do something about it lest it threaten his plans? This would require Grimm to be making classic generic movie villain errors, and also be not very observant, which he does not come across as at all. I don’t buy that.

Furthermore, Brumm is not an impartial voice here. He's an old and tired mortal trapped in a cycle of immortality led by what's essentially a fae-like deity, who has been doing and seeing the same things for probably centuries. He is sufficiently Done at this point in his life. He's depressed. Mortals were never meant to live that long, even in lives that they may have previously enjoyed. He did not always feel this way, and there's proof, which I read as a mix of that and Grimm's power essentially carving his passion for life out:

He's seen this play out over and over, over and over, endlessly to his eyes. He begins to feel like it's enslavement.

However, even despite these feelings? He still highly respects Grimm and is concerned for his well being.

In his thoughts, he's questioning whether Grimm is a slave. He doesn't know, which implies to me that Grimm has never shared specifics. (Also, Grimm's dream nail dialogue contradicts the idea of Grimm being a slave.) These are all the opinion statements of a depressed mortal, and while he has every right to feel the way he does, that doesn't make his words necessarily fact - especially if information was hidden from him. And then, if you do choose to banish the troupe... We see Brumm again, as his original self Nymm, who gives what I feel is one of the strongest pieces of evidence for the troupe not being slaves. He gives you his old mask in the form of a charm, and he states:

If Brumm was truly a slave, if the game wanted you to take the troupe members as actual slaves, this is not how it would be described. I do not think "Stockholm syndrome" is what they were going for here, which is the only explanation for this if they were supposed to be read as slaves. You don't long for and have nostalgia for being a slave (mind controlled or not).

Not just that, but the charm is literally called Carefree Melody, and its ability spawns a flame that occasionally protects its wearer from taking damage. The fear cast by the nightmare magic is still there, yes, but the charm is essentially Grimm's protection left over. If the troupe members were being held against their will by some evil overlord, this symbol would not be such a sweet memento. The charm's very name evokes the image of carefree days where he enjoyed playing music with the troupe.

As far as Grimm being a complete domineering asshole that some interpret him to be, I feel like there's a decent amount of evidence that he isn't, even though we don't get to see how he interacts with his followers. Everyone in the troupe seems to respect and adore him. Brumm being concerned for him, saying that it's painful of all things to defy him, and this is how he thinks at his absolute lowest opinion of the troupe. Divine stays to do her own thing if you don't complete her quest before the Ritual, which Grimm is apparently cool with because she was just allowed to do that. She's also eager to follow him when her business is done. One of the Grimmsteeds, in thought, says that Grimm's light is guiding. Grimm himself doesn't force you as the player to partake in the Ritual or fight him. The troupe related charm, of all effects it could have, is one of protection.

I don't think any of them would feel this way if he was just, you know, a controlling dick.

Now Grimm being manipulative - yeah, I think he is. The point of this post isn't to say Grimm is a saint, he definitely isn't. That's an entire other post. But he 100% isn't the "blatantly evil mind controlling jerk" type. He's morally gray. And I firmly believe he's meant to be a foil to the Radiance;

The Radiance is Light, normally seen as a good and positive force in media. But she is smothering, forces others into her unity, and reduces bugs to instinct. She sends everyone in her thrall out for blood. Grimm is still a light, but nightmares are associated with darkness and seen as evil and negative. Yet his light is not blinding, but guiding to those under him. He clearly possesses mind altering magic when it comes to personality changes and memory stealing, but he doesn't use it to steal the free will of his followers - Brumm successfully leaves because he wanted to, and he isn't left scarred and broken when that power is vacated from him. Again, Grimm doesn't force you to do the Ritual or even battle him. That's your choice to put on the Grimmchild charm. He simply urges you to do so. He's a vulture who feeds off of the natural life cycle of civilizations, not a violent kingdom toppler like the Radiance is.

These two are the only ones in the entire game to have pre-battle title cards. Even the Pure Vessel, who is higher than Grimm in the boss pantheon, doesn't get one. Only them.

So like. Yeah, you can make an AU where Grimm is evil, but it feels like... I don't know... missing the point of the character? It wipes out all of the nuance that I feel makes him interesting and endearing.

[birdsang]

#BIRDSANG: an affiliated robin rp blog, harmonizing with mik (20, they/them, gmt +8). living in slumber with the hope of waking up. rules and portrayal notes may be found under the cut!

RULES

ON AFFILIATION: this blog is affiliated with golden reveries. as such, personal blogs and rp blogs not affiliated with gh will be softblocked or blocked.

ON SHIPPING: i have my personal preferences but i’m generally open to shipping with those i’m familiar with ooc + dynamics with good chemistry. especially with regards to romance, i would prefer to plot everything out just so we’re clear on everything. do also note that i headcanon robin as a lesbian, so i won’t do anything romantic with male-identifying muses, but anyone is free to feel what they feel about robin regardless of gender, she’s just not going to reciprocate everyone’s feelings. 

ON HEADCANONS: i have certain headcanons that do indirectly affect muses around robin. specifically, i headcanon her resonance to evoke a certain sensation within those affected. i’ll go into further detaili won’t force you to accept this if it’s something you don’t want to write, but i hope it’s something that can be considered when it comes up in our writing. though i would like to reiterate that it’s ultimately your choice whether or not to include it in your replies/interactions!!!

ON FORMATTING: i use small text with icons in my writing. if you have any issues with readability or would like me to change my format, please let me know! as for my personal preference: i would prefer it if my partners could use small text in their replies so i can read it more easily <3

ON OOC CONTACT: as tumblr’s IMs have been acting up recently (for me at least) i prefer discord dms. my username is emblian! i am part of gr’s discord server so you may also ping me there. i will let you all know now that, while i have grown more comfortable speaking with others ooc, i am still prone to bouts of anxiety and may pull back at any given moment. please don’t take this personally! i may just need some space and time to get myself together.

ON REPLIES: my schedule has gotten considerably less free since i’m starting my semester so expect me to take anywhere from a week to a month to reply. i’ll do my best to avoid having my partners wait for too long, of course, but i just want to be clear just in case you think i might be ghosting you or forgetting our thread. though that’s not out of the question—i’m also a pretty forgetful person, so feel free to ping me if you feel that may be the case!

ON TRIGGER WARNINGS: i will use general trigger warnings for things such as gore, extreme violence, suicide, and other topics that i deem sensitive enough to warrant it. i will be using “tw // (word)” as a tag. if you have any triggers you’d like me to tag, please feel free to let me know through a dm. i also tag spoilers under “hsr spoilers”

PORTRAYAL NOTES (NOT SPOILER-FREE)

note: my portrayal is subject to change with the story of gr, as well as my own understanding of the premise. so not everything is final!

robin remembers the events that unfolded the last time she was in penacony, but her memory of ena's influence on the sweet dream has been suppressed. for now, she only remains suspicious of the sweet dream and what it advertises itself as. she knows there's a shadow lurking behind everything, she just doesn't know what's casting it.

currently, i see her relationship with sunday as on the mend. she remembers what he's done but she doesn't know why he did it. all she knows is that it's clear they've chosen different paths to walk on, and she's quite hurt by it.

her voice has been affected by the sweet dream, as xipe's influence has been weakened. it will sound hoarser and quieter than usual, though robin will not disclose the real reason to anyone, except for those she feels she can trust with it.

her primary objective is to find out as much as she can about the situation at hand: why everyone was brought back to penacony, who's behind her losing her voice, and what exactly her brother's motives were.

[turtlesaph]

HAZBIN HOTEL / HELLUVA BOSS RP!

^ click that box to join, its the discord link.

SPOILER:: THIS SERVER WILL CONTAIN SEASON 1 HAZBIN HOTEL SPOILERS, ENTER IF YOU'VE SEEN THE SHOW ALREADY OR DON'T CARE ABOUT SPOILERS.

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So he watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam demanded control and Lilith refused to submit to his will. She fled the garden.

Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted. But this gift came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven had worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he had created, never allowing him to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked.

Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream. But Lilith thrived, empowering demon-kind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision. That every year, they would send down an army, an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. But Lilith's hope remained. And her dream was passed down to their precious daughter the Princess of Hell."

It's been a week since Charlie Morningstar started her Hazbin Hotel with the help of Alastor and his helpers. The hotel will start to gain more patrons as time progresses. The hotel however has gained the attention of certain individuals who are curious to what she's trying to accomplish.

The next Extermination draws near and Charlie will feel the loss of her people very deeply. During all of this her father was absent as well as her mother… That is where our story starts.

☆ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋/𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐏.

☆ Canon and OCs [canon first serve] | Auditions.

☆ Vast realms to explore.

☆ 16+ please!

If the link expires let me know and I'll post a new one. <3

CHARACTERS ALREADY CLAIMED:: 2 Archangel, 1 Seraphim, 1 Fallen Archangel, Lucifer, Charlie, Death, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Valentino, Blitzo, Lute, Alastor.

RESERVED SO FAR:: Fizzaroli.