IRONIC SHAME.

[ part of citta ]

[smuppeting]

you’re not an avid celebrator of valentine’s day yourself, but you know what it’s good for. marketing. selling things. everyone wants to get the hottest, sexiest thing on the market for their sugar plum lollipop and you are very aware of this. months prior,  you planned for the weeks leading to the holiday and now was the time.

to: all contacts 18+ from: bro message: check this out. [media file] message: $19.99 valentines edition. message: comes with a picture.

[smuppeting]

heliatlus:

“If you’re feeling sad about not having a Valentine this month, don’t worry. You can spend the day with the friends you’ve made, too! Nothing says ‘I appreciate you’ like a bunch of candy and a good movie or outing.”

“Plus, it’s… not always easy to tell someone you have feelings for them. So you may as well make the most of it in your own way! Haha.”

“ nobody wants to be your valentine. “

[allcapscitta]

FEEL ME UP, BRENDA. I’M HOTTER THAN YOU’D EVER IMAGINE. BURNIN’ UP, FLAMIN’ MORE THAN THE JONAS BROTHERS, SHITS NOT EVEN THE YEAR 3000.

— BRO STRIDER (@smuppeting)

[professionaldreamjester-deactiv]

Send me "Switcheroo!" and I'll redesign your muse as if they were from my muse's universe

[smuppeting]

Do you actually like smuppets?

what kind of messed up question was this. did you /actually/ like smuppets? no shit. of course you did. with their pompous rumps, rounded and perked to a significant beauty and their curved, long noses, slanted to the left- how could anyone not like them? the answer to this was so easy a toddler could solve the mathematical equation; if it were one. 

“ duh. “ 

[lunachased]

[sunshine-memes]

For the next five asks, my muse cannot tell a lie.

[smuppeting]

"Bro, have you ever gone hiking? I'm sure the mountain here is full of scenic forest. I think it'd help clear your mind a little, you know?"

you shift a bit, not really sure why he’s telling you this. hiking? did you look like you were some nature loving hippie who wanted to scour the wild, eat berries and use a stick to walk around? “ you want to go hiking or somethin’?” is what you respond with, tugging cal a bit higher on your shoulder.

[venomstrikes]

Send my muse a song and they’ll listen to and critique it

[askboxmemes]

Give my character unwanted advice

the hella sweet munday meme

because honestly, I see so much negativity go around everywhere and I can’t help but to feel it makes the dash feel kinda down. so! here’s for lifting up our spirits!

♻ Any advice on improving Tumblr RP experience?

⛅  Do you believe aesthetics are another form of expression?

☮ Are you feeling happy and inspired right now?

☄ Has someone ever admitted to being inspired by you?

⚌ Who inspires you?

♋  Are there any FC’s you believe should be used more? Why?

☸ Do you reblog from the source when someone practices reblog karma or do you follow it?

☯ Do you believe you’re a forgiving person?

⚑ Have you been forgiven for a mistake you’ve made?

♛ Have you ever seen drama be maturely sorted out?

♞ Do you tend to ignore drama?

☾ Have you ever tried to bring peace to a situation?

☻ Have you ever made someone a promo or a positive shoutout?

☎ What do you think about bias lists?

☈ How many people would you say likes you?

♡ How many people do you like? Are there any people in particular that pop up?

☢ What calms you down after negativity?

☠ What keeps you happy?

☘ Is there anything that makes you instantly want to follow someone?

☕  Is it often you hear people complimenting your blog? Characters, writing, theme, icons, etc.

☂ What’s your best RP experience?

⚈ What sweet things tend to happen to you from time to time RP wise?

☐ What trends are you currently into?

★ What fandom do you consider welcoming?

☆ What are some the perks with the fandom you’re currently in?

☉ What fandom do you believe needs improvement? What could you do to do that?

♦ How has roleplaying on Tumblr improved since you started out?

♨ Have you ever roleplayed with someone that has been problematic but offered critique and then watched them improve?

⚓ Are there any small details you tend to like in roleplays?

⚡ What are the good sides with duplicates?

☀ What’s the best thing about roleplaying?

⛵ What genres do you like writing the most?

☺  What tends to bring out your muse the most? What inspires you?

[smuppeting]

heliatlus:

As he stops and quirks a brow, two things run through your mind. 

One: this may be the part where you die. Where the doppleganger realizes you’re testing them, and chooses to snuff you out before you can warn anyone. You tense a bit. Wreaths, mistletoes, trees, all kinds of greenery cradles the scene. They may not know how to use Bro’s power to its fullest extent, so you’ll a few seconds to defend.

Two: that was the most godawful embarrassing thing you have ever said in your entire darned life. Fresh pickle brine? What were you thinking? You almost hope this Bro really is a scary clone, so he’ll kill you to end the humiliation.

You weren’t bracing for number three. 

Your hand covers your heart immediately as he starts speaking, and then, from your toes up to your cheeks, laughter glows in you like every one of your freckles is a bulb on a string of holiday lights.

Yeah, that’s the Bro you know.

“That was so fast!”

You let him nudge you, following along. “Gosh, I don’t know how you do it,” you laugh, “that was… wow.” You catch the breath you didn’t know you were holding and carry on with a skip in your step. Sunshine… you can feel your face heat up, but maybe it’s just the cold. You can tell yourself that and be content, at least for now.

“I’m glad you’re having a good time.” You’re just about beaming now. “Maybe the holiday cheer is good for you– oh, I should mention, ah,” you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, “I’m not much of a drinker, but don’t let that stop you from having fun.”

holiday cheer? that concept wasn’t applicable. you’d spent many holidays on the earth, most of which were alone. when dave came around, you made them ironic. dressed him up as a small elf when he was a baby, said he did a shit job at making toys and made him cry. when he got older, you pretended to be santa himself, did stupid shit for him. but never had you gotten into the spirit or actually felt it. here in this city? life was no different than it’d been in houston. you still worked on films, you still browsed the internet, ate doritos for lunch on the couch, stopped by record shops and picked up beer for late nights spent sewing. nothing had changed, nothing would change.

he’s praising you, laughing and smiling. if there’s one thing you never experienced, was any sort of idealization made from someone other than dave. he looked up to you, he thought you were strong, he considered you a hero. everyone else figured you were an aloof guy, someone who did his own thing, who didn’t need validation- and even though they were right, having the freckled shit note your skills was something. something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, however. 

“ whaaaaat? “ after initially nudging him, you pace beside his person, pocketing your hands. open posture. not an ordinary day to day thing you held accountable for. “ nah, man. peer pressure on the rocker, you’re drinking something tonight. we’re going to get you shit faced. “ demanding as it sounded, you held friendliness in the words, a tone that showed expression that while you were serious, he could still say no. “ you can’t turn down the sparkling vodka. “ a small shoulder bump into him, you level your chin forward, listening to the faint sounds of music playing from people’s apartments and the like. 

[smuppeting]

“No — no. Just keep your clothes on.”

uncultured swine. did he not know that in order to get ratings, reviews and good feedback from other producers, you had to take your clothes off? sure, it was a public place, but there were no children around, the mass population was asleep and you were trying to get a shot of your luscious chest to edit in towards one of your films.  though you say nothing to him, you stare him in the eye (despite him not seeing yours), and expose your biceps further with a small flex. and then of course, you reach a hand up to smooth fingers over your own nipple, sensually. if that didn’t get him to leave, you weren’t sure what would- but hopefully he’d take his tight ass and go play the role of good citizen somewhere else.

[alannasroleplaymemes-moved]

Suggestive Sentence Starters

[bcllcrina-a-blog-deactivated202]

alannasroleplaymemes:

Collected from all over the net, other memes, etc. Some are subtle, some are fluffy, some don’t have to be taken sexually, some are so straightforward you could practically jump into a smut scene in a few posts. Enjoy!

“No — no. Just keep your clothes on.” “You are so mean… and I’m okay with that.” “Is that all your mouth is good for?” “I am always looking for meaningful one night stands.” “Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I’ll give it back.” “I would rather have a cup of tea than sex.” “Ah, ah, not till I give you permission.” “Apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?” “Where do you think you’re going?” “And how are you going to make it up to me?” “My sexual preference is often.” “What a nice little sound, I think I’ll bite there again.” “Don’t worry, it only seems kinky the first time.” “Does it taste alright?” “You wouldn’t dare!” “You’re so cute when you’re tired, you know.” “Anticipation makes the hard-on longer.” “You know what material this is? [Grab your shirt] Boyfriend/Girlfriend material.” “Nothing risque, nothing gained.” “I love when you’re rough.” “Is that a challenge?” “Is there a mirror in your pocket? Because I look great- wait, I said that wrong.” “I’m not cheap, but I am on special this week.” “Sex is not the answer. Sex is the question. Yes is the answer.” “I’m not gonna stop leaving marks till I’m sure everyone will know your mine.” “Make me.” “What’s in it for me?” “I’m not drunk, I’m just intoxicated by you.” “I’m going outside to make out… care to join me?” “What’s your favorite silverware? Because I like to spoon!” “Thank god I’m wearing gloves, because you’re too hot to handle.” “Don’t stare. I didn’t want to do this.” “I think I could fall madly in bed with you.” “I need one of those hugs that turns into sex.” “Want to come over and watch porn on my flat screen mirror?” “Stop undressing me with your eyes and start using your teeth.” “Can I put you on my to-do list?” “Kiss the hell out of me. Please.” “You can stay but your clothes must go.” “I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked.” “Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like…” “This is mine. Are we clear?”

[smuppeting]

heliatlus:

Now he looks like he’s thinking, too. What about you aren’t sure, but something’s crossed his mind… oh, no. Maybe the doppleganger is trying to respond to your question. He knows you’re onto him. Your palms get sweaty. What are you supposed to do if–

“What?”

You have no idea what he just said– well no, you know what he said, but… did it rhyme? The Jonas Brothers? That old band? His face is all warm on yours, and it’s very distracting. Gently you step back just a bit, and reach to feel his forehead with the back of your hand.

… aha. That’s when you realize, like the sudden warmth of his temperature. The real Bro is quick on his feet, and not just literally. He likes making up raps. He’s good at it. If he’s really a faker, he won’t last a minute.

Only one way to find out. You clear your throat and think for a second or two.

“Well,” you laugh awkwardly, “you’re not too warm, maybe 99… b-but that’s okay, because I think you’ll be fine. Like…” 

Gardenias, you need a simile too, he did that! You sputter the first thing that comes to mind. 

“… fresh pickle brine.”

the back of his hand comes to your forehead and you turn your eyes up to it. on a normal day, you’d grab his wrist, tug him away from you. that area is way too dangerously close to your shades, the coolness producer of your life. if he were to take those, or even go so far as remove them from your face to see what lies beneath, it’d be over for you. all the work you did to keep yourself the way you were would fall, crumble. he’d see the lines of age and endless fatigue beneath the flecks of your reddened, orange irises, then meet the gates of your soul. there was a reason why nobody had seen your eyes, and thankfully, he wasn’t about to pull a fast one on you.

instead, he opts to check you out and assess your temperature. if anything, you’re normal for a man your age and in no way or form do you have a fever. he can see this, easily enough; and he lets you know in a way you didn’t expect. what you rapped to him is returned, as terrible as it is, and you quirk a brow up at it, questioning if you heard him correctly. fine like fresh pickle brine? it’d be genius if he’d compared the pickle to someone else, or made some sort of wacky analogy with it, but he didn’t. still. with the mood you were in, you could appreciate his effort (futile as it was), and you release a soft breath.

“ so you’re droppin’ that rhyme like einstein? solving all the scientific equations, like they did for the swine. not into pigs much, let’s switch to fe-line. standing around here ain’t for cool cats, it’s a sign. let’s fuck off, head back to an apartment that’s mine. take you back, blast that bling, bling, hotline. i’m not drake, so i don’t fuckin’ whine, but you’re way too bitchin’ to stay out here. divine.” you begin to push into him, lightly, nudging him to start walking, away from out in the middle of public. “ i have shit at home to drink, so whatchu think, sunshine? “

[smuppeting]

heliatlus:

“Oh–”

Oh, indeed. You just let go, expecting he’d rather not hug for too long, and now he’s still got his arm around your shoulder. In fact, he even bumps your face gently with his nose. Your cheeks flare up. He doesn’t look ill, doesn’t sound it either, no, but his tone is almost suspiciously sincere. It’s difficult to tell what his game is, this time – there’s no telltale “irony” (as he’d put it) involved. No changing the subject, no dodging questions, no abstract memes that are too hard to decipher… this is new, uncertain territory.

❝ Be careful. There are shapeshifters here. ❞

Shapeshifters? Oh… oh, gosh, you’re right. 

As you ponder this, your eyes narrow a slight. Who would want to impersonate Bro? Would they have to have killed him and done away with his body, first?! No, no. Nobody could kill Bro. He’s incredibly resilient. But killing may not be necess–

❝ It’s not. I’ve done it many times. ❞

Shh!

“Bro, uhm,” you laugh slightly, realizing how long you’ve spaced out. “Sure, I’d love to hang out elsewhere.” You rub the back of your neck, “But, are you feeling well? Just, uhm– not that you’re doing anything wrong! Not at all,” you add, “I-I’m just,” good job, “just checking. You aren’t feverish?”

it takes him awhile to respond. you don’t blame him. you can only imagine, he’s confused, puzzled. if there were any a time you two had the ability to share a moment, it was now. with your own questioning and his own, it was the closest you would get to similar emotions, to a railroad with the same train. though you had to wonder- did he know what was up better than you? judging by his expressions and inquires, it wasn’t likely..but still. maybe he did this. the little shit probably knew all about bombing someone from behind with some sort of magical dungeon and dragons spell, you figured. but did it matter? hell no! at least not now.

“ahahaha.” it’s not a real laugh. it could never be authentic. but it’s a strider trademark of one, in an ironic sense. why you’re doing it, fuck if you’re understanding that much-but it came out as soon as you moved to press your cheek into his. “feel me up, brenda. i’m hotter than you’d ever imagine. burnin’ up, flamin’ more than the jonas brothers, shits not even the year 3000.” 

[smuppeting]

heliatlus:

Wait – what? You blink, looking up as Bro approaches. You expect him to stand there intimidatingly like he always does, but instead…

“Oh.” You laugh a little, arms turning to jelly. This is the part where you hug him back. You’re supposed to reciprocate, oh gosh, does this mean he actually, truly considers you his friend?! After months, you’ve managed to get through to him? Is it really happening?

Tentatively, you hug him back, and your arms just barely fit around his waist. Incredible. You let go quickly, but still give a warm smile.

“Yeah, gosh, it really is chilly.” Ah, yes. You catch that drift of his. He wants a hot chocolate on the rocks– no, wait, that just means with ice. Spiked? Is that better? Blubbering bluebells, you have no idea. “Uhm, if you want a hot chocolate with, ah, a kick to it,” sure, “that’s fine. Maybe they sell both.” You point to a little stand nearby. “We could check.”

You’re having a friend moment. This is a genuine friend moment. Time to act casual, as not to ruin it. You can do it.

he was not your friend. nobody was truly that rank, to say in the least. you knew how friendship was, how it was acted out with and what it took. for you, personally, you just didn’t care to be a giver. you could take, take, take and continue taking all their gifts of generosity, affection, whatever they wanted to front- but your own? that was reserved, caution taped away from the mass population and a barricade where only few could pass through. alpha dave, when he had been around, was one of those people who was allowed your companionship, your softer side. he was a respectable man, someone who fought and tore his way to the top; but considering he was no longer present? you hadn’t a living side man in the world at this time. it was just you, yourself and cal. like it always had been and like it was suppose to be.

so you’re confused when you’re treating him like you did that dave. you’re puzzled by all the spark and spike in positive reception towards him. while you were aware you’d taken care of him a few times, even barely opened your shell to let him have the tiniest of peeks in; you didn’t actually want him around. he was invasive, he had no understanding of your life, what you or any of your blood line had gone through, he laughed too much, had a cute smile. wait. what?

your inner, rational way of speaking coils back, metaphorical hiss releasing out of disgust. but you give no mind to it. like a drunken bastard, fresh out of the bar and onto the streets, you instead move in to bump your face into the side of his, gently nudging your nose along his cheek. you’ve yet to let go of him, despite him releasing you, and you have no motive to do so. 

“nah. sounds like a lot of effort. waiting in lines an’ shit. we could just go somewhere else. without all the people.” it sounds sinister, and usually would be- but you’re genuine, sincere.  people aren’t your thing. neither is standing in lines. why not ditch both and go do something more productive, like watch movies you had at your apartment?