#rp with: me

[plumpstuck]

<== 💙 ==>

———

==> A groan begins to claw its way out of your stomach. You half-wakefully pinch the mass between your fingers, feeling your empty gut complain its way around a yawn in retaliation against its un-fed state. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you roll onto your side, kicking your legs off from the bed to support your lazy stand. ==> Your knees hold you, as you hobble clumsily with your barely-conscious lack of balance. Another yawn sneaks its way past your tired lips, and you smack your lips sleepily when it's over. You can't wait until you're seated in the kitchen with the essential opener of the day under your pudgy belt; you strain your mind in absent-thought to recall what wonderful sorts of meals you could— ==> Your foot brushes up against something surprising. It's an unexpected texture. Cool, tough, and… right, your neglected pants. You feel the colour on your cheeks deepen at the remembrance of such an occasion. Just before bed, when you were huffing and puffing to try and hike them up your thighs. The effort had you winded and collapsed onto your bed, and you had nearly forgotten all about it as you fell asleep. ==> Nearly. ==> You feel your teeth digging into your lower lip— still sore with the way you tore into it with gnawing frustration. Not even bothering to lower yourself to pick up the article, you lazily kick the garment to the side of your room. You try to convince yourself that you'll find yourself wearing those again soon enough, ignoring the way you tactfully kick the jeans to the dark underside of your bed to be forgotten. ==> The groan that passes through you is nothing short of exasperated. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake all the lingering thoughts out of your head, biting back the acknowledgement of your softness as you make your ways to your closet.

Ah yes, the closet. Home to many things Egbertian. 'Something that will fit him', John hopes in a thought that he tries not to hear. However, his closet is home to another thing that he is trying hard to ignore. He inches closer. Slow, tentative, and agonizingly so. There's only so much one could delay the inevitable, and John recognized the fact. As he stood in front of the twin closet doors, he winced and bit the bullet—

———

John: Take a much-needed look into the long-neglected mirror.

———

==> Your face scrunches up in refusal when you are prompted to do such a thing. You admit, you had been slimmer when you last took a look at your changing reflection. You would much rather not go through that heavy revelation again. Nonetheless, you open your eyes to make eye-contact with the mirror on the inner side of your closet door.

==> You can't say you're too pleased with what you see reflected back at you. You weren't always so… soft. You didn't used to have that much of a hang to your belly, you're sure of the fact… and your thighs had definitely known a time before their default state was to intimately rub against one another.

John did a turn in the mirror, surveying his profile from the side at first, then his front. As he turned, he was hit with the revelation that his flared heart-shaped hips were no-longer getting dangerously close to the edges of the frame—

They had grown past them, unable to be contained by just a full-length mirror.

Laying eyes on his reflection for this first time in a while was… startling, he'd say that. He'd grown more than he'd thought in the time since his last momentary glance in the mirror. John pouts, before throwing his head to his hands in frustration. At the very least, he could cover his eyes and continue to avoid a truth that follows.

There's a point where he can't keep running from his troubles though— it's found where his belly creases over himself and grants him a modesty that wouldn't be granted to a slimmer frame, it's found when he can't get up from bed on his first attempt, it's found when he can't seem to stifle his hunger for long enough to get through—

==> Your stomach rumbles and you move your hands from their hold on your face to clutch your angry stomach. You press into it, a desperate attempt to quell its anger. Your gut hangs and oozes between your fingers as you can't help but eye it through a bashful and shameful stare in the mirror.

— a single thought.

He can't seem to stifle his hunger for long enough to get through a single thought.

[ot3]

i dont like the idea that kids these days are doing their fandom rps with ai chatbots. that's how you're supposed to make lifelong friends as a weird really online teen.

[maelancoli]

Writing Intimacy

i often see writers sharing a sentiment of struggling with writing kiss scenes which honestly bleeds into other portrayals of physical intimacy. i see it a lot in modernized styles of writing popularized by the recent trend in publishing to encourage short, choppy sentences and few adverbs, even less descriptive language. this makes intimacy come across awkward, like someone writing a script or clumsy recounting of events rather than a beautiful paragraph of human connection.

or just plane horniness. but hey, horny doesn't have to be mutually exclusive with poetic or sensual.

shallow example: they kissed desperately, tongues swirling and she moaned. it made her feel warm inside.

in depth example: she reached for the other woman slowly and with a small measure of uncertainty. the moment her fingers brushed the sharp, soft jaw of her companion, eliza's hesitance slid away. the first kiss was gentle when she finally closed the distance between them. she pressed her lips lightly to gabriella's in silent exploration. a tender question. gabriella answered by meeting her kiss with a firmer one of her own. eliza felt the woman's fingers curling into her umber hair, fingernails scraping along her scalp. everything inside eliza relaxed and the nervousness uncoiled from her gut. a warm buzz of energy sunk through her flesh down to the very core of her soul. this was right. this was always where she needed to be.

the first complaint i see regards discomfort in writing a kiss, feeling like one is intruding on the characters. the only way to get around this is to practice. anything that makes you uncomfortable in writing is something you should explore. writing is at its best when we are pushing the envelope of our own comfort zones. if it feels cringy, if it feels too intimate, too weird, too intrusive, good. do it anyway! try different styles, practice it, think about which parts of it make you balk the most and then explore that, dissect it and dive into getting comfortable with the portrayal of human connection.

of course the biggest part comes to not knowing what to say other than "they kissed" or, of course, the tried and true "their lips crashed and their tongues battled for dominance" 😐. so this is my best advice: think beyond the mouth. okay, we know their mouths are mashing. but what are their hands doing? are they touching one another's hair? are they scratching or gripping desperately at one another? are they gliding their hands along each other's body or are they wrapping their arms tightly to hold each other close? do they sigh? do they groan? do they relax? do they tense? are they comfortable with each other or giddy and uncertain? is it a relief, or is it bringing more questions? is it building tension or finally breaking it?

get descriptive with the emotions. how is it making the main character/pov holder feel? how are they carrying those emotions in their body? how do they feel the desire in their body? desire is not just felt below the belt. it's in the gut, it's in the chest, it's in the flushing of cheeks, the chills beneath the skin, the goosebumps over the surface of the flesh. everyone has different pleasure zones. a kiss might not always lead desire for overtly sexual touches. a kiss might lead to the desire for an embrace. a kiss might lead to the impulse to bite or lick at other areas. a kiss could awaken desire to be caressed or caress the neck, the shoulder, the back, the arms etc. describe that desire, show those impulses of pleasure and affection.

of course there is the tactile. what does the love interest taste like? what do they smell like? how do they kiss? rough and greedy? slow and sensual? explorative and hesitant? expertly or clumsily? how does it feel to be kissed by them? how does it feel to kiss them?

i.e. examine who these individuals are, what their motives and feelings are within that moment, who they are together, what it looks like when these two individuals come together. a kiss is not about the mouth. it's about opening the door to vulnerability and desire in one's entire body and soul.

[pokemonranch]

We are in the middle of a heatwave in Sinnoh and these guys have been poppin' up like Shroomish!

[massiveladycat]

leo shouldve learned how to cope with his trauma and his need for validation instead of rick slapping a girlfriend on him and calling it a day. in this essay i will-

[purgatorysanctuary]

Hello, StaticRadio Nation!

[scealaiscoite]

reasons for there to be only one bed ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱

¹⁾ they’re undercover as a married couple, and as such need to act like one

²⁾ there’s technically two beds available, but it’s freezing cold and everybody knows body heat works best

³⁾ it’s a camping trip, and one character’s forgotten their sleeping bag

⁴⁾ a character goes to their friend’s house after an emotional upheaval in search of comfort, and ends up staying the night - but refuses to kick the homeowner out of their own bed, resulting in the two of them sharing it

⁵⁾ in a roommate scenario, one character’s bedroom has been rendered unusable - and with the couch being unsustainable in the long run, they proffer sharing the one remaining bed as a solution

⁶⁾ there are two beds, but only one blanket

⁷⁾ a character’s taken ill, and the other party worries too much to leave them alone for even a minute

⁸⁾ in a fit of anger after a mission gone wrong, both characters sleep in the only available bed because no one was chivalrous to offer to take the floor

⁹⁾ a character’s had a nightmare, and needs company to feel safe enough to go back to sleep

¹⁰⁾ the weather takes a tumultuous turn, meaning a late night hangout has to turn into a sleepover when a character gets stranded there for the night

¹��⁾ it’s a late night at work and when they both grow too tired to continue on, the only option is the lone office couch

¹²⁾ a threat’s been made against one/all character(s) involved, and so under the guise of safety in numbers it’s deemed safest if they stay together - everywhere

¹³⁾ one character joins the other for a late-night conversation, and ends up getting comfortable in their bed next to them - evidently too comfortable, as the char in bed falls asleep on the visitor and effectively traps them there

¹⁴⁾ there’s no bed in the shoddy refuge they’ve found after things went sideways, so when it comes time to sleep the only real choice is to stay close together

and, of course,

¹⁵⁾ it’s the last room available at the hotel after a long trip

[nota-trebol]

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏๑🎼 〜 oїoї png by @nota-trebol ♥️

[words-writ-in-starlight]

listen I expected literally Nothing from the D&D movie okay, like I can't make it clear enough that I expected the most soulless money grab with a good cgi budget imaginable, I went in having already gone through every stage of grief and landed on acceptance and LISTEN

I fucking CRIED during this dumb RPG movie. it wasn't just "not terrible" it was objectively good with a clever plot and compelling characters and sincere emotional beats. this movie loves D&D so fucking much and it NAILS the "a bunch of goobers try to be cool and accidentally discover The Power Of Friendship And Also Great Violence" classic D&D party vibe. their barbarian's last name is fucking Kilgore and my entire family cried in the theater.

I hope they make twelve of these motherfuckers.

[vtkuu]

absolutely love how early on in the Oregon Parks promo campaign everyone was under the tweets being like "alex what is this" "alex we know it's you" "what are you plotting alex" and now everyone is screaming and crying in the replies for Park Ranger Gus Burnside and asking if he's okay

he got the fandom invested in his twitter roleplay character in the span of ~a week. i'm afraid there's nobody doing it like him— anyone who thinks they can pull off a Gravity Falls revival hoax/troll/etc should quit while they're ahead, truly

[plumpstuck]

John: Introduce yourself.

———

==>  Your name is JOHN EGBERT.  You've always been a bit on the THICKER side, even before your father developed an obsession with baking and the like.  Not you nor anyone else would ever describe you as FAT, but you were more than known to be on the PLUMPER side of the scale.

==>  However, having grow up in an environment surrounded by baked goods with little to stop you from indulging... needless to say, indulge you did.  In addition to your round starting frame, you had put on at least a bit of weight under the coddling care of your dear dad.  The consumption of cake to an excess has put its mental toll on you— the moment your taste-buds grew sick of the over-exposure, you had discovered that it wasn't just your taste-buds that changed.  As subtly aware as you were to your climbing weight, you didn’t do anything to stop it, and you perhaps did even less so to prevent it from increasing in pace.  Your method of coping with this predicament was passive denial and aversion to the subject.

==>  Now, you've moved out of the old family house and are on your own.  You could have sworn that these stubborn pants fit nice and snug when you'd waved your farewells to your father.  He sent you off with plenty of snacks for the road— you tried to decline, but he insisted.  You weren't just going to shoot down your teary-eyed father's generous offer, and the pastries did look tantalizingly sweet.  It took little more fuss for you to resign your refusing position with his eyes wide with pride and care.  Before you knew it, he had your broad arms full of boxes and bags of his latest baked creations.

==> ... but that was months before today.  Today, you press your lips into a thin line of frustration, trying— and failing— to hitch the unforgiving denim up to acceptable levels.  As you breathe out a hefty sigh, you wince as your soft post-starter-belly inches forwards and buds over the pinching waistband.

John’s breath was caught in his chest as he alternated between wrestling with the garment and taking much-needed moments to just breathe. Those moments were necessary altogether with his growing frustration, tied altogether by his tiredness.

He started off devoting more of his time tugging to hopefully rake the hard material up his thighs with mere moments of recollection littered in-between. By the time he had concluded such winded efforts, he had spent more time heaving and teary-eyed from those efforts than he had actually spent on those minor stubborn attempts to continue.  ‘Concluded’ is a word that tactfully avoids the truth of the situation— John hadn’t successfully finished the mundane task of getting dressed at all.  His vain attempt to clothe himself was punctuated by the bounce of his tummy as he dropped the two flaps of fabric.  Although inanimate, the gentle jiggle of his doughy lower roll of fat as he threw down the fabric in defeat seemed almost smug at his futile attempt to contain it.

A final sigh left those lips of his, now reddened and plump from the anxious fidget of digging his prominent front teeth into the sensitive there flesh of his lower lip. John slumped backwards, exasperated as he kicked the worn and useless pants off of his legs— pudgy and thick enough to be considered, as much as he'd deny it himself, fat.

"God dammit," he heaved through his chest with his face flushed dark, "Those fit last time I tried them on…"

He dabbed at the damp spots cornering his eyes, glimmering with the light caught from an open sliver of his window blinds. As his heavy chest and belly rose and fell with his weighty breathing, John tried his best to focus on anything other than his figure— a responsibility he took on by occupying his eyes with a particular meaningless spot on the popcorn ceiling.

The frames upon the bridge of his nose were slick with sweat of toil, so much that they began to slip. He lazily let his head droop to the side, soft cheek pressed into the plush of the pillow as he fell tired.

...

John woke from his slumber with heavy eyelids and an empty growl gnawing at his hefty middle, his trimmed nails tracing against the flesh as his idle hand kneaded at the angry mass.

==> What are you going to do now?

💙 ==>

[euaphoru]

looking over your guy best friends bulge when he wear gray sweatpants!

typing away at your phone while ranting to your best friend about the guy you met last night who had been rubbing all up on you, you didn’t realize your other one was eavesdropping into the conversation you were having— how could he not when she was on speaker and you were geeking all over.

he shook his head and pushed himself back onto the couch and focused back into his game while letting out a scoff to your earlier comment, what he didn’t pick up on this time was when he was manspreading you accidentally took a double take but quickly looked away and jolted up form your set before thinking anything intimate of your guy best friend since childhood, he looks away from the t.v, waiting for his monitor to come on soon — but all he could think about was the way your hips swayed so effortlessly, the fat of your recoil only making it worse for his boner growing right in his pants.

Before you both know it, the tension between the two of you was so obvious you couldn’t pull back on the urge to rock your hips on his clothed bulge and rubbing against. How bad he wanted to his breathing deepened as he listens to the squelching coming from your cunt. He felt the pain of his cock in need of your walls to squeeze him so tight to the point where it would chop his cock off his body. Although the sound of gaining insane pleasure was also debating.

His throbbing veins felt like popping out from the grip he had on your hips, “keep rolling those hips for me like the cock whore you are..” he smirked, harshly slapping your ass making you jolt up while scratching his biceps, “that hurts so bad, don’t do that to me.”

“I think—s-shit feels so goood!..!” You whine out with a little laugh at the end, making him smile before grabbing at your hair to make a sloppy ponytail. Pulling at it, causing you to hiss when your scalp hurt only for him to ease you down with a passionate kiss on your soft lips.

The sounds of your pussy squelching sent straight to his dick, making him throb. “Can you fuck yourself so more on your cock, pretty girl?” He grunted in between his lips, feeling you pump yourself on his cock like a fleshlight.

“Y-you don’t say…fuck!—, best friends don’t say that to each other!” you cry out to him, tears falling from your eyes down to your cheeks making his cock twitch inside you with your current face, which is now hiding in his neck, “let me see you, don’t hide from me now Y/N.”

[bulletsxlattes]

I like the way you kiss me, I can tell you miss me. - x

INPRNT

[sethoscaras]

[skeletood]

it's just that dude you always do everything with, no biggie

[scealaiscoite]

“i’ll keep you safe” prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱

⋆ “i can stay the night, y’know. if it’d make you feel better.”

⋆ “try and get some sleep. i’ll stay right here- i won’t let anything happen to you, i swear.”

⋆ “you should’ve told me this was going on. i would’ve put a stop to it the second i heard about it.”

⋆ “no one gets to treat you like that, you hear me? no one.”

⋆ “either go to bed and get some rest willingly, or i will drag your ass down the hall kicking and screaming. you know i’ll have no problem with either option.”

⋆ “you must be freezing- here, take my jacket.”

⋆ “this place is dicey at the best of times. just take my hand until we’re clear of it, yeah?”

⋆ “anyone touches you, says anything to you, so much as looks at you the wrong way- you come get me, and i’ll set them straight. understand?”

⋆ “i’m not jealous. i just know the intentions that someone like that has for you, even if you claim not to see them yourself.”

⋆ “stay behind me, no matter what.”

⋆ "i know you can't believe it yet, but i promise you can trust me. whenever you're ready to rely on me, i'll be here for you. i swear it."

⋆ “i like seeing you this way. so… at ease. makes me wonder how anyone could ever purposely put you under stress and live with themselves afterwards.”

⋆ “shut up and just let me take care of you!”

⋆ “this isn’t up for discussion. i know you’re used to looking out for yourself, but i need you to understand that you don’t have to live like that anymore. i’m here. for as long as i’m around, i’m going to come between you and anything that wants to hurt you.”

⋆ “no one’s ever going to hurt you again. i promise you that on everything i believe in.”