#these are screenshots from a video of them

[alioopshi]

ALSO can confirm.

I was on the jury for a case involving a prison fight. I believe they were trying to charge the defendant, a black man, with pre-meditated violence or something along those lines (it’s been a few years).

the very first thing they show us is video evidence. there were two videos taken with security cameras. one immediately preceding the fight, and then a second video showing the fight itself.

the two lawyers then spend several hours showing us a powerpoint presentation with their “evidence” for why he’s guilty. every single part of it is BS, like a screenshot from the first video that’s supposed to show that he had “aggressive body language,” and stuff like that. they also had a guard testify that the defendant and the victim didn’t get along. the lawyers do NOT show us the actual videos again. then we’re told to go deliberate and decide on a verdict.

I argued that we should see the videos one more time just to be sure, and most of the jury agreed with me. when we make the request to the judge, I specifically write on the paper that we would like to see both videos. the judge accepts our request, and the lawyers agree, but then they ONLY show us the second video. I said, nuh uh, we specifically asked to see both videos. so the judge makes them show us the first video again. and guess fucking what:

Video 1: the defendant walking down the stairs is facing the camera and is wearing a white shirt and blue pants

Video 2: the attacker is facing away from the camera and is wearing a blue shirt and white pants

THEY HAVE THE WRONG FUCKING GUY ON TRIAL.

and beside the fact that they were OBVIOUSLY obfuscating evidence, they were basically trying to get us to convict this man of a crime based solely on racist stereotypes. it still pisses me off when I think about it.

for no reason whatsoever here’s a reminder that if you consider yourself a leftist/punk/abolitionist/anarchist/radical in any sort of way and get called into jury duty, you are to become the most square person on earth during the jury questionnaire!!!

don’t be that guy who says fuck the police in the jury questionnaire! that just gets you sent home! if you want to generate change, interact with the case and use your jury vote for good! ESPECIALLY if it’s a high profile case!

[onlypinkslut]

🎀 warning 18+ 🎀 golden retriever!with!a!dick!toji x kitten who!thinks!she’s ugly

you learned early how to make yourself smaller. not just your voice or your presence but your body. the way it was shaped. the way it unfolded. the way it responded. you learned how to close your legs just right so nothing showed. how to tilt your hips up, to keep everything tucked away and pressed shut, to move like you had nothing extra, nothing hanging, nothing wrong. you learned how to arch for a man in a way that kept his eyes from drifting too low. how to pull his mouth up when it wandered. how to keep him from ever seeing you fully, completely, exposed. because you knew what they liked. what they said when they thought no one was listening. the threads and clips and porn titles and filtered bodies. the trending surgeries and reaction videos. the screenshots of “ugly” ones passed around like warnings. you knew. and you weren’t stupid. you looked in the mirror and saw what they’d call excessive. too much. messy. wrong. and the worst part was no one ever said otherwise.

you used to think about getting it fixed. not even for yourself, but so you could finally breathe. labiaplasty ads found their way into your feed like little claws offering newness, neatness, invisibility. the dream of not worrying. of being “fuckable” in silence. of never again seeing a pause in a man’s face when his hand slipped too far. you saw the before and afters and wondered if that could make you worth staying for. if maybe with a few cuts, a few stitches, you’d finally be enough to be looked at without hesitation. touched without hesitation. loved without shame.

you didn’t ask to carry that. you didn’t want to feel disgust curling in your stomach at the thought of letting someone go down on you. it wasn’t dramatic it was learned. taught by every zoomed-in thumbnail, every high-def angle, every softly lit studio shot with the same delicate foldless silhouette. and maybe you could’ve fought it, if it wasn’t everywhere. if boys in school didn’t whisper about loose ones. if girls online didn’t giggle about looking like Barbie. if every example of beautiful didn’t also mean edited. bleached. barely there.

but you were there. you existed. you felt the softness between your legs and you hated it. the fullness. the darkness. the warmth. the way it wasn’t symmetrical or pink or shy. the way it looked when you sat a certain way. the way it stared back at you in the mirror, not dainty, not cute, just real. and that was the worst sin of all being real.

so you kept it hidden. let the lights go off first. kept your panties on longer. turned your hips away when they reached down. gave them just enough to keep going but never that. never you. not really.

because if they saw it, if they really saw it, they’d leave.

you were sure of that.

and now there’s him.

you weren’t looking for anyone. you’d learned not to. your body was a thing you kept under your clothes and in the dark, and love was always hanging by the edge of a dim lamp switch. nothing good ever came when the lights turned on.

but then there was him.

toji fushiguro.

the man who looked like someone you’d never speak to in your life. too tall. too strong. too broad. and yet somehow not like the others. not in the way he carried himself. he had that face. the kind of handsome you expect to come with cruelty. thick scar splitting his smile. lazy, predatory eyes that made your heart drop the first time they met yours. you assumed he was like the rest some ex-boxer asshole, or worse, the kind who knew he was hot. but he wasn’t. not even close.

he didn’t flirt. he didn’t brag. he didn’t even seem aware that people looked when he walked into a room. he was usually just rubbing the back of his neck, grumbling about a sore muscle, eating chips he crushed at the bottom of the bag with one hand. he wore tank tops in winter and slept with a fan on even when it was cold. he watched dumb tv shows with the subtitles off. he called you brat when you teased him and then tried to cover his smile with the back of his hand like it meant nothing. like you didn’t notice.

you tried not to fall. but it didn’t take much.

he didn’t treat you like someone he’d just sleep with. he treated you like something he wanted to keep. not with words but with small, stupid, quiet things. like running ahead just to rip a flower off some stranger’s garden and thrusting it at you while pretending not to care. or holding your wrist lightly when you crossed the street, even though no cars were coming. or showing you random things on his phone and then grinning like a little boy when you actually laughed.

he’d stare at you sometimes. not in a sexy way. just… like he was thinking. forgetting to blink. caught in something he didn’t know how to say.

you were waiting for him to get bored. to realize you were a little awkward. a little weird. not the type he probably used to pull. not long-legged or glowy or perfect. just you. plain and nervous and too soft in the wrong places.

and then one night, after a slow evening of nothing no dinner date, no candlelight, just a late movie, a bowl of cereal, and you curled up in one of his shirts he kissed you. slow. deep. no music, no noise, just the feeling of his body sinking into yours like he belonged there. like he’d waited.

and he touched you like he was scared to go too fast. like he knew what you were used to and wanted to undo it. his hand found your waist. then your hip. then slid under your thigh to press your legs open just slightly, but when he reached further when his knuckles grazed too close to where you knew the shame lived you froze.

and he noticed.

you didn’t say anything. just kissed him harder. pulled his hand up to your chest instead. made him forget the detour. but he didn’t forget.

he tried again the next time. lower this time. slower. mouth trailing down your stomach, tongue flicking warm circles into your skin. he slid his hands under your thighs again and kissed the softest parts, and when he started to shift lower pressing his nose into the place between them you tensed.

again.

again.

again.

each time, a new excuse. not tonight. too tired. too sore. already came, babe. no need. and he didn’t push. he just blinked, rubbed his face, and let it go.

but you could feel it.

he liked it. loved it. missed it. his hips always rolled harder after you said no. his cock twitched like he needed more. and he never said anything, but he started jerking off more than usual. you noticed. when he stayed the night, when you heard the soft grunt in the bathroom with the shower running. or when he’d come back to bed breathing different. less satisfied. like he didn’t want to tell you why.

you knew.

and you told yourself it was fine.

it was better this way.

he didn’t need to see it.

didn’t need to see you. not all of you.

because in your head, you still weren’t built for that kind of intimacy. you’d always imagined sex as something you gave. something done to you. not something you offered. not something someone could worship. not something someone like him could lose himself in.

and he was beautiful. even if he didn’t know it. even if he groaned about the mirror and never noticed the way his shirts clung to his biceps, or how girls looked when he walked by. toji was the kind of man those girls got. and somehow he wanted you.

but that didn’t mean he wanted all of you.

and you didn’t realize how much it haunted you until the day you opened his phone and saw it.

you hadn’t meant to look through his phone.

you weren’t checking anything. you weren’t being suspicious. he was in the kitchen making coffee, muttering about how someone stole his last protein bar, and his phone buzzed on the nightstand. nothing serious. just a message from yuji, probably another dumb meme. and you smiled to yourself when you tapped it open to forward it to your own chat, because sometimes you liked saving the things he showed you, the moments that felt easy. light.

you didn’t even mean to swipe up. not on purpose.

but his browser was open. and it was there. still fresh. still loaded. still glowing.

and for a second, your brain didn’t register what it was.

it looked like a million other tabs you’d seen before. a homepage. a title. something about blow job or whatever the fuck they always pushed. and a thumbnail. close-up. glossy. pink. surgically bare. no folds, no depth, no shadow. the kind of body you’d seen a thousand times and never once thought belonged to anyone real.

you didn’t move.

you just stared at it.

watched the preview loop over and over, five seconds of a girl moaning and pulling her lips open like a biology lesson. perfect, symmetrical, tucked. so neat you couldn’t even tell where it started. a pussy designed to be swallowed in one breath. toji’s breath.

your throat closed.

you didn’t scroll, but you saw there were more. tabs stacked. different positions. different angles. but all the same.

not like you.

not even close.

you locked the phone and set it down like it burned you.

he walked back in a minute later, carrying your coffee with his sleeve over the handle like he always did so it wouldn’t burn your fingers, and you didn’t say anything.

you smiled.

you took the cup.

you kissed his cheek.

and you spent the whole day trying not to fall apart.

because it wasn’t that he watched porn. you weren’t naive. you knew men did. you knew he did. he’d mentioned it in passing once with a shrug. didn’t make a big deal about it. it wasn’t a betrayal. it wasn’t some great sin.

it was the type.

the body.

the reminder.

the confirmation.

because you’d always wondered. always feared. always known. and now it was proven.

this wasn’t just insecurity. this was fact. this was evidence. this was what he came to when you didn’t give him what he wanted. when your thighs clenched too tight, when you flinched, when you said not now. he turned to the ones who didn’t make him pause. the ones who looked better. the ones who didn’t have to hide.

you couldn’t stop seeing it.

couldn’t unsee the comparison.

you stared at your own reflection that night with your thighs spread on the bathroom counter, hoodie shoved up, phone light shining down, and your stomach turned. it didn’t look like theirs. not at all. it wasn’t pink. it wasn’t tiny. it wasn’t smooth. it was real. soft and dark and full. textured. folded. visible.

you felt sick.

you hated yourself for checking.

you hated him for making it true.

and when he came in later, sleep-eyed and slow, dragging his shirt over his head with a lazy smile and that same stupid soft voice asking if you were coming to bed, you just nodded. climbed in next to him. turned off the lamp. curled away when he touched your hip.

he didn’t notice at first.

he was tired. kissed your shoulder. knocked out fast.

but your eyes stayed open.

your knees pressed together.

your mouth tasted like metal.

and in your chest, a voice started whispering the old things again.

he wants what you’re not. he wants what you’ll never be. he only loved the lights off. he only wanted you because he hadn’t seen the truth yet.

and that night, you didn’t sleep.

you just held your breath and waited for morning.

he notices three days later.

you don’t say anything. you’re not dramatic. you still kiss him back when he leans in, still nod when he asks if you’re hungry, still curl up beside him at night like nothing’s changed. but it’s in the little things. the way you don’t look at him for too long. the way you let his hand rest on your thigh but don’t guide it higher. the way you smile like you’re tired. even when you’re not.

you won’t let him eat you out. again.

you’d let him do everything else. he could kiss you. fuck you. hold your face and tell you you were perfect. but as soon as his mouth dipped lower, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart, his tongue warm and open and starving you’d shift.

stop, you’d whisper, barely breathing. just fuck me instead.

and he would.

but tonight he can’t.

tonight he pulls out of you halfway through, chest heaving, cock dripping, eyes wild.

what is it?

you blink.

what?

he leans back on his knees, hands still resting on your waist, body still warm between your legs.

what’s wrong?

you shake your head, but he doesn’t let go.

brat.

his voice is softer now. rough, but quieter. like it hurts him to ask. like he’s scared of the answer.

you okay?

you look up at him. his hair is messy. cheeks flushed. sweat glinting along his jaw. he’s beautiful in the way no man should be. too big, too rough, too casually wrecked. and yet right now, he looks… unsure. small. like he knows he fucked up, but doesn’t know how.

your throat tightens.

you don’t answer.

he drags his hand up your ribs slowly, thumb brushing your skin.

talk to me, please.

you bite your lip. not to flirt. not to be cute. just to stop the shake.

i saw it..

his brow furrows.

saw what?

your voice breaks before it even fully comes out.

on your phone

he freezes.

and you know he knows.

because his face doesn’t twist in guilt. doesn’t flush. doesn’t flare with panic. it just stills. like his heart skipped and never restarted.

you look away.

i wasn’t looking for it. i didn’t mean to. it just popped up. the tabs were still there.

he says your name. quiet. almost inaudible.

you shake your head again. your chest is starting to ache.

i don’t care that you watch it. it’s not that. it’s just… i saw the kind of girls you watch. and i just… it made sense.

he stares. his mouth parts. no words come.

you breathe in sharp. your voice cracks.

i knew it. i knew it, toji. i’ve always known. you’re not the first guy to want it, you’re just the first one i didn’t want to disappoint.

his hand flinches like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t move.

disappoint you how?

your laugh is bitter. quiet.

you don’t want me to say it.

yes i do.

no you don’t.

yes i fucking do.

he grabs your hand, presses it flat against his chest. his heart is hammering.

you say it now. or i swear to god i’ll go crazy trying to guess what i did.

you finally look up at him.

your lips tremble. the words taste like blood.

my pussy doesn’t look like that.

silence.

i know what they look like. i’ve seen it. the ones you watch. the ones all guys like. small, tight, pretty. pink. invisible. mine’s not like that. mine’s not small. or neat. or the right color. and i know you’ve noticed. you don’t have to lie. it’s fine. i’m used to it.

his face shatters.

you laugh again, but your eyes are full of tears now. everything about you feels soft and defeated.

you’ve been nice. you haven’t said anything. but i know why you’ve been jerking off more. why you don’t push when i say no. i know i’m not what you’re used to. and it’s okay. i get it. i just wish i didn’t have to see it to be reminded of what i’m not.

he doesn’t speak.

he doesn’t blink.

he just stares at you like he’s watching you bleed out.

and when he finally moves, it’s not to touch you. not to apologize. not to speak.

he drops his head.

and groans.

not out of frustration.

but out of pain.

like he’s the one breaking.

fuck, baby. fuck.

he pulls away from you not in rejection, but like he’s scared he’ll fuck it up worse if he touches you the wrong way.

you think i’ve been jerking off because of that? he breathes, laughing dryly. no. no, babe. i’ve been jerking off because i can’t stop thinking about your pussy. yours. you don’t let me taste it. you don’t let me see it. and it’s driving me fucking insane.

your lips part.

he finally lifts his head. his face is flushed, mouth parted, jaw tight.

you think i want those girls? those fake-ass plastic studio-lit girls? you think i’m watching that shit because i want it?

he leans closer, hands gripping your thighs now. firm. real.

i can’t cum to anything unless i’m thinking about you. and i mean it. i tried. believe me, i fucking tried. but every time i close my eyes, it’s you i see. that little moan you make when i rub you through your panties. that shake in your thighs when you get close. that whimper you do when you almost let me go down. and i’m so fucking desperate, brat, i’d lick your pussy until my jaw locked and my cock fucking burst if you just let me.

your breath stutters.

his voice drops. low. reverent.

you think it’s not perfect. i think it’s gonna ruin me.

you sat back slowly, legs trembling as you leaned on your palms, breath caught somewhere between fear and something hotter. your cheeks burned. your thighs twitched. your fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and for a second, you hesitated.

but then you tugged them down anyway. slow. cautious. peeled the thin cotton past the curve of your ass, down your trembling thighs, and off your ankles exposing the part of you you’d spent years hiding, folding, denying. trimmed but soft, full, warm, already glistening from the ache he’d built up in you. not bleached or tucked or invisible. you. wet and puffy and swollen from the way you’d clenched your legs shut all week trying to ignore how badly you needed him. your folds kissed open slightly with every breath, soft and sweet and shining in the low bedroom light, pulsing just from anticipation.

he didn’t even react at first.

not in the way you feared.

he didn’t flinch. didn’t squint. didn’t shift awkwardly or pause to analyze it like some dissection. he just sat there knees on the bed, body tense, shoulders broad and still staring. lips parted, green eyes blown, chest rising in shallow gasps.

holy fuck.

you looked away instinctively, body folding in on itself, but he reached out and gripped your thighs with both hands wide, hot palms grounding you against the sheets.

nah. don’t do that. don’t you dare fuckin’ hide from me now.

his thumbs slid up the inside of your thighs, slow and reverent, like he was handling something holy. not even touching your pussy yet. just tracing where your heat spilled out, feeling how your slick had already started to pool how soaked you were just from the act of being seen.

jesus fuckin’ christ. you smell so good. you know that? can smell your pussy all the way up here. fuckin’ sweet. better than any of that tasteless bullshit they film with studio lights and bleached holes. ain’t got nothing on this.

you swallowed, shaking. your thighs tried to close.

his grip tightened.

nope. you keep ‘em open for me. you let me fuckin’ look. please, baby. please. just let me have this.

you nodded, lips parting. and then you sat up, hands sliding over your own skin, tugging your shirt up over your head, letting it fall behind you.

his breath hitched.

your tits bounced softly with the motion, flushed and sensitive, your nipples already stiff. your stomach rolled as you adjusted your posture, soft and real and curved the way you always hated. but he looked at you like he was witnessing divinity. like you were laid out for worship.

fuck. look at you. real woman. fuckin’ gorgeous. tits out, pussy glistening, thighs spread. fuckin’ perfect.

you laughed a little. it wasn’t fake it cracked and trembled, laced with tears, but it was real. because he sounded genuine. wrecked. possessed.

he ducked his head low and inhaled hard at the apex of your thighs, groaning like he’d just opened something forbidden.

this is what pussy’s supposed to smell like. sweet. warm. fuckin’ alive. not like those dry-ass clips. all that shit looks like it’s filmed on fuckin’ mars. no flavor. no real woman. just lighting and filters and air. but this..

his tongue licked up one thigh, just barely grazing your outer lips.

this is mine.

your breath stuttered.

his mouth hovered above your cunt like he was holding back tears.

i don’t wanna hear you compare yourself to that shit again. ever. i swear, brat, i see this pussy and i get lightheaded. i ain’t even inside and my dick’s aching. it’s painful. you did that. just by sittin’ there.

your head fell back.

he finally leaned in.

his lips kissed the very top of your mound. not even touching your folds yet. just the soft upper skin. then again. then lower. his nose bumped your trimmed hair. he groaned again.

gonna make out with her. i don’t care. don’t care if it’s messy. don’t care if i look stupid. you let me taste and i swear i’ll die right here a happy man.

his tongue dragged slowly along the curve of your inner lips and you gasped, thighs quivering, fingers tangling in his hair before you could even think. your other hand came up, covering your own chest for a moment, then rubbing soft circles around your nipple unconsciously seeking more stimulation.

you were already moaning.

toji. fuck. oh my god.

his eyes rolled back slightly.

that’s it. yeah. lemme hear you. fuck. she’s pulsing already. can feel her throb on my fuckin’ tongue. never seen anything prettier in my life. never tasted anything like this.

he licked again, slower, deeper. his lips sealed over your clit and sucked softly, then kissed it like it was fragile. his tongue traced every swollen fold, sliding into the grooves, making out with your pussy like he had all the time in the world and no shame left in his body.

you were crying and giggling now, hand buried in his thick hair, nails dragging down his scalp, grinding your hips softly onto his face.

you’re so fucked up

you moaned it like you loved him for it.

he pulled back just enough to breathe, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed, chin already wet.

you let me do this. you. after all that. after hidin’ from me. after thinkin’ i wouldn’t like it. baby, you got me feelin’ like a fuckin’ animal. don’t even need to fuck you right now. i could nut just like this. just from eatin’ you. just from the fuckin’ honor of gettin’ to see what other men couldn’t.

you whimpered.

he dove back in, hungrier this time, sucking and slurping and moaning into your cunt like he needed it to live. your body shook. your stomach tensed. your fingers clutched his hair so tight your arm ached.

you’re perfect. perfect. warm. thick. taste like heaven. fuck, brat, i’ll never watch porn again. i don’t need it. they don’t smell like this. don’t sound like you. don’t cream like this. i got a real woman. my woman. mine.

he rubbed your thighs like you were something edible and sacred, and as your orgasm built slowly, painfully, beautifully he kept whispering into your cunt with a voice full of filth and gratitude.

thank you. fuck. thank you for lettin’ me taste her. i’m a fuckin’ bastard, i don’t deserve this. but i’ll take it. i’ll take it all. i’ll spend the rest of my life between these fuckin’ thighs if you let me.

you came with a choked cry, sobbing and laughing, rubbing your tit, nails scratching his scalp while his mouth stayed glued to you, drinking it down like proof that he was right. that you were everything.

and he never stopped smiling into you.

you should’ve been embarrassed.

the way your thighs were still shaking. the way your pussy was glossy and red and swollen from how hard he’d made out with it, the way his jaw was soaked and his eyes glazed like he’d been drugged off you. but you weren’t.

something cracked open in you. something old and bitter and hidden. something that used to ache when you looked in the mirror but now it was burning.

you sat up slowly, dragging your slick cunt across his face just to feel it again, to hear him groan into it. and when he opened his eyes, you were smirking.

you like that?

he laughed, voice wrecked and low.

you’re fuckin’ evil

you just giggled and turned around knees planting on either side of his head, your soaked pussy now sitting on his chest as you leaned down between his legs and wrapped your hand around the thick, veiny cock twitching below.

mm, so hard for me. didn’t even touch it, daddy.

you spat on the head, just to hear him groan. started stroking it slowly, watching the way the veins pulsed, how the precum spilled down thick and warm as your fingers played in it.

you licked a fat stripe up the underside, tongue teasing the tip while his hips lifted off the bed. he was growling now, muttering fuck fuck fuck while his hands gripped your thighs again, pulling your ass down on his mouth.

you wanna taste while i suck it?

his only answer was a moan. a filthy, needy, animal moan.

you lowered your hips again, your pussy flattening over his face while you wrapped your lips around his cock. thick. heavy. pulsing on your tongue like it missed being inside you. and god, it had. you could feel it. taste it.

his hands spread your ass wide while you bobbed on him. his nose buried in your folds, tongue tracing messy, hungry circles around your clit while he ate you from below and choked on your slick. you giggled through a moan, lifting yourself just enough to grind in circles on his face, twerking on his tongue while your hands stroked his shaft.

daddy like that? huh? pussy feel good now that you finally got a taste?

he slapped your ass so hard you gasped around his cock and drooled.

shut the fuck up and ride it, slut.

you moaned. eyes fluttering shut. this was his fault. he made you this way. cocky. soaked. shameless. and you didn’t want to stop.

you bounced. you fucked his face like you wanted to break him, while your mouth worked his dick like you were starved.

he came the first time like that. without warning. hot, thick ropes painting your throat while he growled and dragged his nails down your thighs, your name spilling out like a curse and a prayer at once.

and you didn’t even stop.

you kept sucking.

milking.

you tasted it, moaned into it, swallowed it and sat back with a smug little smirk while his cock was still twitching.

and then you turned around.

spread your legs.

and sat on it.

toji growled so loud the bed shook.

fuck fuck fuck. you tryin’ to kill me?

you giggled, already bouncing, pussy clenching tight around the overstimulated head.

you said you wanted it. you said you wanted to ruin me.

he grabbed your tits, slapped them together, spit between them and shoved his face right into your chest like a fucking animal.

i did. i do. gonna fill this pussy so full you forget your fuckin’ name.

he fucked up into you hard, and you screamed.

not from pain. not from fear. from the shock of how much you needed this. the pounding. the stretch. the ownership.

he gripped your hips and started thrusting from below, hard and deep and ruthless, your ass clapping down on him with every bounce. you cried out his name, hands grabbing your own tits, pulling them up while you rode him like a cock-hungry bitch.

this is yours, daddy. all yours. look how wet it is. look what your mouth did.

he slammed up into you so hard your body jumped.

you think i’m ever lettin’ you hide this again? no. fuck no. this cunt belongs to me. you ride me when i say. you twerk on my face when i tell you. you sit your wet fuckin’ pussy on my dick until i cum again.

you nodded, eyes rolled back.

say it.

my pussy’s yours. my pussy’s for you, daddy.

he groaned and flipped you over onto your stomach.

spread.

you obeyed without hesitation. chest to the sheets, ass arched, cunt glistening. and he slammed back into you like he was claiming property.

he fucked you so hard your legs gave out. so hard your cries turned to gasps, to whimpers, to filthy praise.

thank you daddy thank you for making me feel pretty thank you for loving my pussy thank you for cumming for me

he reached around and slapped your clit, rubbed it hard, laughed at the way your ass bounced.

you hear that? she’s squelching. she’s leaking. she wants to be filled. say it. say you want me to cum inside.

please cum in me daddy. please please please breed me. i want you to. wanna be full. wanna be yours.

he slapped your ass again. gripped your hips. fucked harder.

i’m gonna breed you, baby. fuck you so deep it won’t matter what porn looks like. you’ll be full for days. full of me.

you clenched. screamed. came again. and he fucked through it.

and then..

he pulled out. grabbed his phone.

you want porn, baby? huh? wanna see what real porn looks like?

you looked up through hazy eyes.

he was already recording.

you on all fours. face fucked out. tits swinging. ass red.

pose for me.

you smiled. giggled. spread your cheeks with your manicured hands.

he groaned.

that’s right. fuckin’ slutty girl. prettiest cunt in the world. say hi to the camera, baby. show them what real pussy does to a real man.

he slapped your pussy.

you gasped and smiled bigger.

and that’s when he pushed back in, hard, and filled you to the brim. for real this time. thick and hot and overflowing, his cum leaking down your thighs while you cried and thanked him and rode it out in shivers.

and he kept filming.

he never wanted to forget this.

he wanted to watch it every time he missed you. every time you weren’t home. every time he needed to remember that he turned a shy girl into a filthy, perfect, confident slut.

his slut.

you didn’t even know how you ended up like this half on his chest, one leg tossed over his thigh, your cunt still dripping with his cum, flushed and glossy and twitching with every lazy rub of his fingers.

his arm was under your neck, thick and warm, the inside of his bicep pillowing your head while he kissed your cheek again. and again. and again. no rhythm, no reason. just soft presses of his lips to your flushed skin like he couldn’t stop reminding himself you were his.

his other hand was between your legs, dragging slow, heavy circles into your spent folds like it was the most natural thing in the world. his touch wasn’t focused, wasn’t trying to make you cum again it was aimless and gentle, like he just wanted to feel you. his thick thumb slipped between your swollen lips, parting them lazily while his middle finger tugged at your folds, spreading them just to watch them glisten under the dim bedroom light. he hummed like he was admiring a painting. his fingers stayed low, patting your pussy softly, tapping right above your hole like he couldn’t believe how soaked you still were. every now and then he’d drag his thumb up again, spreading your lips wider, then rubbing slow circles into your clit until you flinched, and he’d smile not to tease you, but because he was genuinely obsessed.

you were giggling softly, face still fucked out and sticky with sweat, holding his phone in both hands like it was precious. the screen was lit up. the video was playing. no filters. no edits. no cuts. just you. bent over, legs shaking, tits bouncing with every slap of his hips while your cunt swallowed his cock like you’d been made to ruin him.

fuck, you breathed, cheeks hot. i look like such a whore.

he chuckled into your skin, kissing your cheek again, his stubble rough but sweet against your face.

you are a whore. my whore.

you smacked his thigh weakly, giggling harder.

shut up.

nah. can’t. not after that. not after i just watched you ride my face like it owed you rent and beg for my cum like you were gonna die without it.

you moaned softly, your thighs twitching around his fingers again as he dragged them up and circled your clit with lazy, open affection. his thumb slid back down, parting your pussy lips again and pressing right into the creamy mess he’d bred into you. he didn’t push it in just stroked it. slow. back and forth. like he was petting something sacred.

your breath hitched. he kissed your cheek again. then your jaw. then your temple.

you really like it?

he snorted.

baby, i’ve never liked anything more.

you smiled. eyes still on the screen. your own face crying and laughing, back arched, voice wrecked while you screamed for him. you. the girl who used to fuck in the dark. now on camera. showing him everything. owning it.

toji whispered against your skin.

we’re keeping it. i’m jerking off to this for the rest of my life.

you rolled your eyes.

you’re so gross.

he kissed your cheek again. and again.

love you too, pretty brat.

you’re tired.

your feet ache, your back hurts, and your belly is stretched tight with the life he put inside you. your tits are swollen and sensitive, your thighs stick together when you sit too long, and sometimes you cry over things like oatmeal or laundry or the way your shirt rides up too much now. but he never laughs.

toji just watches you with that same dumb smile, hand already sliding down his sweatpants by the time you walk past.

fuckin’ knew it, he mutters like a prayer. knew that pussy was built to take my cum. look at you.

and every now and then especially when you’re laying on the couch, dozing off with your hand resting over the curve of your stomach he sends you little clips. old ones. the video. that video. the one where you were bouncing on him, tits clapping, mouth open and crying his name like it was the only thing you knew.

he’ll text you a clip of your ass riding him in slow motion, followed by a message that just says:

gonna fuck you like this when i get home. knock you up again.

you usually groan and roll your eyes, but your cunt clenches anyway. especially when he calls you.

you pick up half-asleep, voice soft and whiny.

toji…

his voice is already thick, low, breathless.

watchin’ the vid, baby. the one where you ride me like a fuckin’ pornstar. god. you were so cockdrunk. remember that?

you don’t answer.

he grunts. strokes louder.

your tits were bouncing so fuckin’ much. i slapped your pussy like five times and you thanked me. you made me cum so hard i got lightheaded. and look at you now. belly full of my brat. tits leaking for me. fuck.

you whimper, rubbing your swollen belly softly.

toji. you just fucked me last night.

he groans again.

and i’d do it again right now. i don’t care if you’re pregnant. i fuck you pregnant. this pussy doesn’t stop being mine just ‘cause it’s full. if anything, i want you more now. look at what you gave me.

you roll onto your side, breathing heavy, thighs rubbing. his voice in your ear, the video still playing in your mind…

you gonna let me film you again, baby? huh? get another one for the collection? you pregnant, tits dripping, moaning while i breed you again?

you laugh softly.

you’re disgusting.

he chuckles. and he’s still jerking off.

yeah. and you love it.

you smile. hand slipping between your legs.

yeah. i do…

（＾ν＾）thank you for reading. this one’s for the girls who’ve ever turned the lights off, hid, or wondered if they were “too much” down there. your body is not something to fix. you are not lacking. you are not less. you are soft, warm, sensitive, and so fucking desirable💗

i hope this made you feel seen.🎀

and if anyone ever made you feel like you weren’t enough just remember: our daddy toji likes it🎀

onlypinkslut

[bluebeads-art]

2025 June 25th

Kris glancing back at you when you make them kill 8-bit Susie and Ralsei messed me up, dude. That's gotta be terrifying, not knowing the player's intentions. Like, they only killed them because this is just a game, right? ...right...?

Rambling and behind-the-scenes stuff under the cut

—

Especially terrifying if Kris has the meta-knowledge that they're in a game. Because if so, the previous cope doesn't work.

Originally, I planned to recreate a screenshot of the 8-bit game only so I could paint over it. However, I was going to slap the image into Blender 3D to warp it with a fisheye lens anyways, so I had the idea of making a CRT shader. Turns out I have shader skill issues and wasn't sure where to start! So I copied the homework of u/CalculatedBinary on Reddit. (Link in replies because I'm still paranoid of the days where external URLs blocked posts from showing up in tags / searches. Filter by oldest first if you don't see it right away.)

I did make some changes, though. CalculatedBinary's shader just makes a ray tube overlay that doesn't react to the texture underneath. But I had the idea to split the RGB channels of both the CRT overlay and image texture, darken each color of ray tube by the image texture's corresponding RGB value, then recombine all 3 channels. Might be easier just to show it.

Note that the "CRT shader" input is JUST the CRT overlay. This node group slots into the stage where you mix it with the image texture. Speaking of, unless you're working with a high pixel resolution or are viewing it from far away, you'll need to blend this result with your image texture again afterwards, because uhh...! The effect's real strong, captain!

There's cheater sub-pixels in there to mimic chromatic aberration, but otherwise this is an authentic representation of how CRT screens work! I made some other tweaks to the shader to get the CRT pixels to line up with the image texture pixels more precisely, but I won't get into that unless someone asks because it's nitty-gritty perfectionism stuff.

To circle back to an earlier point, this CRT shader sorta depends on well-defined pixels, so no paint-over for me. Given how long it took me to recreate a screenshot by hand based on nothing but blurry, compressed YouTube videos, I'm considering it fair usage, LMAO. Not like I'm making money off of this.

I love using Blender to solve my problems. Don't know how in the goddamn fisheye lenses work? Blender. Want to make or borrow image filters? Blender. Want that filter to follow the image's perspective? Yep, Blender.

I have minor beef with some of the anatomy and shading, but this piece was taking too long, it's Time to Stop. 😂 I friggin' cooked on the line art and their hair though, heck yea. A shame the dark shadows ate some of it.

Time taken was 33 hours and 38 minutes (at minimum. Forgot to time some of my Blender side-quests.)

[yuurei20]

Hi I know in the spoiler notice for the new main story campaign it says not to post screen recordings of the overblot animations, but does it say anywhere if screenshots are also banned?

Hello hello, thank you for this question! 📝

The exact request we have received via the game from Twst is to please refrain from posting new animations on social media or video-sharing platforms during the Main Story Completion Support Campaign!

This campaign will last from June 27 until August 1.

After August 1 it will maybe be okay to share this content? :>

The reasoning is for spoilers! It seems maybe they want to encourage newer players to complete the story and provide them with enough time to do so, and for the animations to be special things for them to experience for the first time in-game instead of by accident on SNS while they are working hard to progress.

The message does not specify that it is only video that is forbidden, but as the reason is for spoilers then it might be safest to avoid sharing anything at all until 15:00 on August 1!

Spoilers are very much the worst and it is exciting to think that the community might all be able to come together in a combined effort to help the game be as enjoyable as possible for new players 🎶 Yay teamwork! 🥳

[vodkadito]

i always wonder if there are any more pictures of eric and dylan together that weren't released to the public (as far as i know, we only have the 1999 class photos, the library photos, some screenshots from their video recordings, and the cafeteria cctv shots). i wonder if they took any photos while filming the basement tapes or if there are any photos of them just doing random things together. i wish i could know what their first photo together was, and what their last was (of them alive, ofc)

[villainessbian]

@lavendersalve is STILL a pedophile and he directly helped @is-the-owl-video-cute contribute to the suicide of SaveAFox

You're a nazi and unless they both participated in a seppuku ritual there is no "suicide contribution." Your misgendering of a transfem is noted. Your pedojacketing of a transfem is noted. The fact even the transphobes who agree with you distanced themselves because your blog has "Aryan pride" bullshit on it is noted. Your lies are noted.

No one knows why she committed suicide. You're trying to end another life or two though. And only because - what? - they posted screenshots from SAF's own posts that show that she wasn't perfect but in fact hoarding animals and causing them harm? Up to and including euthanasia after grave injuries caused by neglect and getting unsafe equipment.

[tsams-and-co-memes]

…………*inhales deeply*

Why the hell is this fruity boy so,,, *gestures vaguely*

ANYWAY. Yeah. I’m trying to pick a fake tweet meme pfp thing for him, and. He’s not real, but he’s making my life so incredibly difficult right now. Quality for most, if not all of these, are kinda crunchy, sadly. I couldn’t get a good screenshot of him that was close enough,, where I didn’t have to zoom in a bunch

Fun fact: apparently he can do tongue bleps. He did it twice in that video with Solar and Jack

Preview of what these would look like in a fake twitter meme post thing and my thought process under the cut. I tried to pick one by myself, I really did, but they all look so good, and one of my core traits is being indecisive

Back to business, though. The lighting and background on most of these wasn’t ideal. His colors blended in way too much in the first four; I just grabbed them because I liked the poses he was in, I thought they were dynamic, and that they perfectly showed just how sassy and ✨quirky✨ he is. The fifth option got included because it’s from Nexus’ pov, and it’s close enough that the quality didn’t get completely obliterated. Then the last two are here because the lighting and background are better, and because they’re both kinda sorta dynamic, in varying ways

[medicine-san]

Tomorrow, JP TWST will update their overblot transformation scene. Please keep in mind to NOT post the scenes anywhere else, be it screenshot or video/gif until August 1st. And even if you want to share it with people, please keep them in DMs only so people won't be spoiled.

Even if you have spoiler tag on your post, you might get in trouble with many people especially those from JP side, so please ask people who posted them to take it down nicely. We all want this to be a pleasant experience, so don't be a dick to people who aren't aware, and to those who have asked you nicely. Just confront people nicely instead of making a post that will lead to harassment, that's not helping anyone either.

[reresimmer]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ New Simblr . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Sul sul Simblr! I'm Rere from Buenos Aires, Argentina. This blog is relatively new, but many of you probably know me from my old account, "r3bka06." Seeing your support motivates me to edit, improve, and, most importantly, continue to run this account! My pronouns are she/her. I'm ready to beat my fear of posting and interacting with people and showing my game. I'm slowly exploring storytelling, but don't expect much. I love taking screenshots and editing them. I'm even trying my hand at videos! I hope you like it. （〃｀ 3′〃）

I'd like to find more mutuals/friends so feel free to follow or comment so I can do the same!

[emodrstan]

Some of you have probably seen anonymous asks that I've received for the past few weeks, sending me nothing but harassment and bullying. Consider this my response and statement about my truth about the situation. I have backup to my claims cursory of @barnesprosecutor who's been here since the beginning of this. Also my friends @chaoticcreative14 @snake-cutie @buckyytorres and @greek-freak101 have received similar asks.

Please note that while I'm not fond of this individual, I won't be posting her current username so she remains anonymous and does not receive any other attention. This is my truth. She is more than welcome to post her own response. This is all hearsay as well because my screenshots have been deleted since because I assumed it was over with before the anon hate started.

Back in March, I was invited to join a Danny Ramirez group chat on Instagram and accepted due to being a huge fan of his and wanting to connect with other fans. This group chat was created after I created the Danny Ramirez community and before I created the Danny Ramirez discord server.

Rinie was already a member of the group chat and we followed each other (I had followed everyone in the group chat) and all was fine.

When the Last of Us season two had it's premiere, a friend of mine @retro-rezz-the-est went to the premiere and took a picture with Danny. I asked her if I could send it in the group chat and post it to my community and Rezzy gave permission. When I sent it to the group chat, Rinie claimed that she already had it. Which was weird because Rezzy and Rinie did not follow each other and Rezzy had sent her picture with Danny to me before she even posted it.

Our first major fight in the chat happened when I asked if anyone had a video of Danny from BTS of Top Gun Maverick. Rinie said she had it but immediately said she wasn't going to send it because it was "her's"

I was annoyed and confused and let her know it by sarcastically thanking everybody but her.

Rinie proceeded to call me a bitch and yell that she didn't have to share "her videos" if she didn't want it. She then goaded the chat by saying she had videos of Danny dancing but wouldn't be sending them.

The next day I assumed it would be a one time thing as Rinie asked for some pics I had and she sent some videos in return.

I was an idiot to assume that.

With Danny's role as Manny in the Last of Us incoming, I decided not to say what happens to Manny in the game as to not spoil anyone. Rinie immediately got mad and I offered to privately DM her so I could tell her there. She requested to follow me (I had removed her as a follower before) and then spent three hours refusing to accept my own request. I got frustrated and refused to tell her anything.

When the premiere finally aired, I found a picture of Manny on Twitter and sent it to the chat in excitement. Rinie however immediately complained about the quality and demanded high quality pics of Manny. I tried to explain to her it was all I had at the time and she had a crash out but actually apologized *after* I sent better pictures of Manny.

Episode two was the last time that there was any real peace. Manny had a lot of screentime in episode two and Rinie and I traded our Manny content. She had high quality videos of the episode and I had high quality pics.

Danny appeared in a cameo in episode three and Rinie assumed he'd be in episode four. I tried to explain to her that Danny was a guest actor and would probably not appear again until the finale and she yelled at me. When I did not have Manny content from episode four as he wasn't in it, she accused me of hoarding Manny stuff.

Hypocrite.

Now we get to the big moment. The moment that started all of this. Rinie boldly claimed that she was in constant contact with Danny and even claimed that she was going to date him. This later changed to her saying they were dating. I immediately called bullshit and asked @buckyytorres if Danny had ever reached out to anyone.

She told me that while Danny would respond to fans sometimes, he never reached out first. I called Rinie out further and asked for proof of her non-existent conversations.

She doubled and tripled down saying it was private. I then said that if she didn't give any proof, that I would screenshot what she was saying and tag Danny in stories about it. Rinie all but dared me as you can see in this

Danny did in fact see it. Both times.

Rinie lost her fucking mind.

She spammed over and over again how much Danny said he hated us all and that we were immature and blah blah blah crazy.

At this point we were all done with her. She deleted her crazy shit and went silent. She wouldn't respond when we tagged her. She just kept quiet.

Part 2 coming in a bit

[fresajamie]

for the lovely @donderwolkenblog 🩵

please do not repost!

[r-h-e-t]

(very mild Deltarune Chapter 4 spoilers)

Remember how in Chapter 1, Seam said they missed playing games with Jevil, that Jevil "was the only one who matched me in the games we used to play"?

Seam is bored, and they miss having a gaming buddy who can actually challenge them.

I swear, we're gonna give this cat the 5th Shadow Crystal, and they're gonna make us the most amazing piece of equipment we've ever seen.

And then Seam's gonna say, "Great. That should somewhat level the playing field." And then we'll get the hardest boss fight to date.

... Hopium, I know.

LET ME FIGHT THE CAT, TOBY FOX.

[thebrokengate]

Ok so a few hours later, I'm re-checking this mission to see if I can figure it out because this has been bugging me too all morning and I want to point out a few things (screenshots courtesy of this video):

It sounds like Dutch has actually been in this saloon already but didn't have any luck as he says this establishment is, from word on the street, their best lead but he hasn't had any joy in there so far so he sends Arthur in to try. He also tells Arthur that he has been asking around already before they met up there, so that checks out.

2. This is where it gets weird. The street kid here says "friends", plural. The only two members of the VDLG asking around town are established to be Arthur and Dutch. Dutch hasn't brought John in yet as he says below, and Arthur was the only one who Dutch asked to ride into Saint Denis with him.

So uh... genuinely what the hell does that mean? Who else is asking around?

I put it in the tags of my last reblog but the only thing I can come up with is the O'Driscolls since they find the gang in Shady Belle within the same time period as they most likely kidnapped Kieran right as things were simmering down for the night during Jack's return party as Kieran was drunk and his guard was down. Nobody in Saint Denis would really know they aren't part of the same gang so if they were all asking about Bronte together, people would automatically assume they're all after the same thing. What I can't really come up with an answer for is why the O'Driscolls might be asking about Bronte because why would they be interested in him at all when it's Dutch they're after? But the best I have is that considering the O'Driscolls were seemingly following right behind the VDLG after Valentine given Colm's plans to hand Dutch and his gang over, it wouldn't surprise me if one of them somehow witnessed and overheard the VDLG's attack on Braithwaite manor since they had been in the area before for them to have encountered Pearson before the Blessed Are the Peacemakers mission, and maybe they overheard Catherine Braithwaite telling the VDLG about Jack being given to Angelo Bronte. Perhaps the O'Driscolls lost track of the VDLG soon after this as they moved again and figured Bronte would also be their only lead to finding them again... but this is of course all speculation based on a whole lot of nothing.

There is something bothering me about the first mission in chapter 4 and that is something the saloon keeper mentions, "you and your pal that was in here before".

Now the canonical time between arriving in Shady Belle up to Dutch pointing a gun at us, is likely just a few hours seeing as they immediately set off to ask around. Dutch and Arthur are the only ones out searching at this point, and Dutch mentions to us that he has not been within the saloon yet, and that it would likely be a good place to start, hinting that in fact no one from the gang has been there.

That said, when you go in, the saloon keeper will tell Arthur that "he and his pal who was in here asking earlier," should keep their nose outta things. As said, Dutch mentions no one has been in there, so who is this stranger.

Similarly, the street kids will also mention people asking about Bronte. Though I don't remember if they just mentioned one other (Dutch) or several others, and I cannot find any youtube vids of that mission where people don't show off how to catch the kid, aka no one shows that scene. But either way it is interesting to me, who are the other people asking around?

[honeymoonsimmer]

silent grove's townsfolk so far 👨‍💻

ALSO i have 28 clubs on my spreadsheet for this save and only made 3 of them so far OOF. also dont mind the bios jsdsjods i didn't know what to put in them

[juanasfanart]

how the fnck is no one talking about these

[i-may-be-an-emu]

more screenshots from the Swindon bts :]