#like if you're gonna make them fuck at least have them do it like that. also trevor should call cutter 'jamie' obviously

[shoyudon]

𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ

them forgetting a date night.

starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"

note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.

the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.

but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?

clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"

you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.

"y/n . . . why did you—"

"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.

for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.

"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"

before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.

"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.

"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."

gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"

"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.

──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.

the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.

walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.

sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.

three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.

maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.

your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.

"what?"

"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."

scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."

you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."

"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.

sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."

you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.

all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.

"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."

dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.

despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.

it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".

wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.

he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."

you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."

toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.

"bye, toji. good luck."

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[artdcnaldson]

aannnyyywwaayyyyy! patrick training your ass but totally not because he has this mental image of him fucking you from behind while art gets your pussy! blame the porno he stumbled upon!

and if we're on the topic! he may have also seen where a girl held two dicks together and tried her best to suck them at the same time. not that he WANTS to be that close to art's dick, totally not the case, but he's just saying he'd be down if YOU'RE down that's all.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (assplay, anal sex, sex toys, general debauchery)

A/N: Your mind consistently amazes me 🩷🫡 I did NOT edit this I just blacked out while I wrote this then hit send <3

It started when you mentioned Art for the first time.

“I used to have the biggest crush on him,” you said with a grin. You’d been scrolling through Patrick’s Facebook— giving him shit for all the lame things he’d posted in the oughts (and, yeah, after). “Can’t believe that’s your friend.”

You stopped on a picture of the two of them from ‘06, posing with their doubles trophies.

“Well, if you want him that, I can set the two of you up. I’m sure he’d love to meet a groupie. Maybe you could show him just how big of a fan you really are,” he teased, nipping at the exposed skin of your throat.

You laughed and shook your head. “No! Not unless you were joining too.”

It flipped a fucking switch in him, to say the least.

Suddenly, his old-faithful porn vids, saved to his camera roll like a goddamn caveman, did nothing. He found himself scouring through any porn site he could find for threesomes, of which there were fucking plenty. And lots of ways he could imagine sharing you with Art.

You were on all fours while his cock pistoned in and out of you— back arched tantalizingly, ass rippling with each thrust. He tried to be casual about it. “Has anyone ever fucked your ass before?” Subtlety had never been a strong suit.

You’d gone all shy, hiding your face in your arms as you answered no, not yet. Yet being the operating word. He grinned, satisfied by your answer.

His thumb brushed over your rim, making your toes curl at the barest touch. You were so fucking sensitive and so fucking sweet that it would probably kill him, one day.

“You gonna let me do it someday?” He asked, lips twisted into a smirk. Your response was muffled where you hid your face. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging you up slightly. “Couldn’t hear you, baby. Speak up for me.”

A whine escaped you as you nodded. “Yeah, want you to.” When he dropped his grip on your hair, your face fell back into the sheets.

He moved his thumb and spit onto your hole. You cried out as his cock bullied deep inside of your cunt— he could feel your walls clenching around him, could feel how close you were.

“Don’t be lazy, honey. Rub your clit for me, okay? I’m busy.”

You did as he said— pretty manicured nails between your thighs and rubbed at your clit as he fucked into you. His thumb circled your rim, slick with his spit as he pushed his fingertip within you and let his thumb sink into your your tight hole.

The moan that burst out of you as you came was the sexiest goddamn thing he’d ever heard. The feeling of your ass tightening around his finger as you came, feet kicking helplessly as he fucked you through it… he didn’t think he’d ever come harder than that moment.

And Patrick was a fucking degenerate— a dog with a bone— so the next time he got a chance he fucking took it.

He ate your pussy messily— making out with your cunt the same hungry way he kissed. A mess of tongue and spit that left you dizzy and begging more often than not.

Your thighs tightened, squeezing around his head the first time he let himself wander, tongue just barely teasing your ass.

“Fuck! Patrick—“ you cried out, burning hot with embarrassment and arousal from head to toe.

“Just lemme…” he trailed off, using his big hands to spread your legs for him. “Just take it, honey.”

His tongue pressed against your hole, lapping at you messily as your needy cunt spasmed around nothing, craving attention. His nose glistened with your arousal as he buried his face in you, relishing in the squeaks of pleasure you were emitting.

He sat up and grabbed blindly for the lube he kept in his bedside table— half empty and sticky. He coated his fingers in it, warming it up before his middle finger probed at your asshole.

“Relax for me, baby,” he cooed, his voice so sickeningly sweet you wanted to kick him. “Let me in.”

He watched you shakily exhale, letting your body adapt as his finger sunk into the tight heat of you. You moaned, low and breathy as he began working his finger in and out slowly.

“Fuck, there you go,” his words came out on a waver, his voice cracking slightly as he felt you tighten around his finger. “Feels good? You need more?”

You nodded quickly, meeting his gaze with a needy sort of hunger. “Mhmm, feels good,” you practically slurred. “Need more.”

The cutest fucking echo he’d ever heard.

He smiled and let his pointer finger press against your rim, stretching you as he slowly pushed in. You moaned softly, thighs falling open as you relaxed into it. He felt your body accepting the intrusion, sucking him in.

“How’s it feel?” He asked. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your knee.

“Full,” was all you could manage. You rocked your hips slightly, grinding against his fingers.

He grinned. “This is just two fingers, baby. How are you gonna take all of me, huh?” He grinned down at you, scissoring his fingers slightly just to watch the way your cunt clenched in response.

His thumb moved on your clit, and it took barely any attention to the nub for you to come for him, leaking slick arousal that he eagerly lapped from your neglected pussy as you squirmed beneath him.

Poor thing, you really needed both of your holes filled.

And you were so eager to let him try. A pretty little plaything whose eyes lit up at his filthiest whims.

“This is embarrassing,” you mumbled the next time it came up. You were on your hands and knees, pouting back at him as he lubed up one of your toys— a clear pink dildo that you’d used plenty before he rendered it obsolete.

He squeezed more lube onto his fingers and gingerly fucked your ass with them to get you all warmed up. It wasn’t lost on him how easy it had gotten since that first time, the way your body wanted him in any hole he could take.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, honey,” he said, watching as your cunt dripped a thin string of arousal onto the sheets as he gave a particularly deep thrust of his fingers. Jesus, you were fucking perfect. “Can’t jump straight to the real thing, you’re too delicate, baby.”

You whined, pouting even as you backed yourself against his fingers, toes curling as he added a third finger.

“Fuck, Patrick,” you gasped, fingers clawing into the sheets. He waited until you were gagging for it— pussy smeared with your own arousal, grinding back against his fingers with desperate need. He withdrew his fingers and smiled at the pathetic whimper you left out.

“‘S okay,” he cooed. He slicked up the dildo with lube once more before he pressed the tip of it against your ass. It was a stretch— beyond the three fingers Patrick had prepped you with— but you took it eagerly.

He thrust it inside slowly— inch by inch by inch until it was sheathed inside of you fully. You let out the prettiest moan, panting where your face was pressed against the sheets.

Patrick thought you’d never looked sexier— lips glossy with spit, practically drooling onto the bed. Arched up so perfectly to take whatever he could give you. He was so fucking hard he could barely think.

“How’s that?” He asked, voice breathy.

All you could manage was an eager nod— an encouragement, a plea for more. He began thrusting the toy inside of you, relishing in your pretty, fucked-out moans. Your eyes rolled back and your cunt ached with need for stimulation.

You were panting and whining with need, slick and wet down your thighs. “Need you,” you gasped, eyes shining with crocodile tears. “Wanna feel full.”

And, Jesus, he really couldn’t deny you. He thrust the toy fully inside of you, holding it there as he lined himself up with your dripping cunt.

It was nothing short of a miracle that he didn’t cum the second he bottomed out within you. You were so fucking tight that he could hardly move, wasn’t sure if he could even risk it without cumming in a pathetically short amount of time.

He brushed your hair from your eyes, found them glossy, lust-hazed. “Feels so good. So fucking tight around me. You’re so good.”

You rocked your hips back slightly, moaning at the smallest amount of friction.

“Fuck, gonna move for you, okay?” He thrust slowly, testing the waters. The moans both of you let out were pornographic. You were so wet that the sound of Patrick fucking into you made heat flood your cheeks. As you grew closer and closer, your legs gave out on you and Patrick had to hold you in place as he fucked you.

Each thrust made stars dance in your vision. You could hardly manage anything except moans of his name and cries for more. All you could do was just lie there and take it.

But he liked you like that— so needy and cockdrunk that you let yourself get used.

“Cumming—“ you cried out suddenly. Your cunt spasmed around him, squeezing like a vise. He only managed a few final thrusts before he was spilling deep inside of you.

You whimpered at the loss of him within you, then again as he eased the toy from your ass. Your body was sticky with cum, lube and sweat. Patrick laid on top of you, peppering kisses onto your back and shoulders.

“I want a bath,” you murmured lazily against the bedsheets.

“I want a million dollars,” he hummed, kissing the spot between your shoulder blades.

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off.”

ME? Writing ANAL??? Less likely than you think!!! But anything for my pookie wookie 🫶🩷

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't exactly what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem exactly uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind her and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe you the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in your without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

[anamericangirl]

The Israel vs Palestine conflict is such a long-spanning and insanely complicated thing that there's literally college courses that revolve entirely around the subject. There's people who have been studying it for 70 years who still barely understand it. There's historians with PhDs trying to piece together anything they can that could help them figure out a means to potentially instill a ceasefire or even peace altogether who have failed time and time again for decades if not literally centuries.

And yet people with 7 years of Twitter experience think they know enough about the conflict to pick a side and vouch for the destruction of the opposite side.

The amount of times I want to say "Shut the fuck up you fucking stupid idiot, you know literally nothing about this conflict, you have no idea what's actually happening, I bet if I asked your opinion on the Two State Solution you wouldn't even have a fucking clue what that means" on a daily basis reading these actual braindead moronic 16yo Twitter users' dipshit opinions who keep citing celebrity blue-checkmark Twitter posts as evidence to vouch for the eradication of a middle eastern country they don't even know a fucking thing about is STAGGERING.

I'm in my mid-30s and I stay out of politics on all sides because I am not qualified in any way to form opinions on matters so serious that they may or may not result in people being killed, and it fucking pisses me off that people half my fucking age are telling me that I should support Palestine or Ukraine or vouch for the genocide of Israel or join ANTIFA or BLM or put #FreeTaiwan in my fucking twitter bio.

You actual braindead stupid fucking morons have absolutely no clue what any of these conflicts actually mean, none of them have anything to do with you, go back to bitching about girls in video games being too sexy and shut the fuck up about actual real conflicts because you're a fucking moron if you think you know anything about what you claim you're in support of.

I swear to God if I see one more Twitch player playing Fortnite ranting about the Israel Palestine conflict and telling people that donations during their stream go to Palestine, Ukraine, Taiwan and LGBT activism centers, I'm gonna go feral. It is so unbelievably belittling to people who have spent their entire life researching and educating themselves on these conflicts to be able to build an understanding, that a dipshit who collects loli bestiality porn and plays Metroid Prime on Twitch thinks he's on the same level as those researchers.

PREACH! It's so fucking annoying how everyone suddenly thinks they're experts on this conflict when before October 7, 2023 none of them even knew it was happening and they're just cringey ass brain dead parrots saying what they're supposed to say without doing their due diligence to at least get somewhat informed on the matter before boycotting Starbucks, using hashtags and swapping the Ukraine flag for the Palestine flag and thinking they're doing something.

What really gets to me is when influencers I follow, like apolitical ones who are grown ass adults, jump on the bandwagon and are actually orchestrating fundraisers for Palestine and it makes me so fucking mad because they absolutely have no excuse for that. I just want to scream at them "hey! you know literally every cent you raise is going straight to Hamas and no Palestinian will ever get a single penny!! It's all going to buy weapons to kill Israeli civilians. YOU ARE LITERALLY FUNDING GENOCIDE AND TERRORISM YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON!!!" I don't have a shred of respect for people who talk about all the terrible things happening in Gaza but don't have a single word to say about the atrocities Hamas commits daily in Israel. Not one of them has condemned or even mentioned the attack on October 7th. Fuck every single one of them.

[carolmunson]

love ya pretty baby!! how about 5✨

He's going off 'cause they're not gonna let him in, Two and a half, the boy is rushing out his skin, He's got his charm with the girls that are smoking, He takes her arm, jumps the bar and now he's in.

babyasif!eddie - before the break up. (18+ drug use, drinking, oral - male receiving)

He stumbles out the back of Deleon, the rough shove of the bouncer making him trip over his shined shoes and into the wet bricks of the building next door.

"Get the fuck outta here," he grizzles, "And we don't wanna see you back, either."

It's not the first time Eddie's gotten kicked out of a bar for being beligerent, but at least he wasn't getting arrested. He trips moving forward, palms hitting the asphalt with a sliding crunch but he can't feel it. He's buzzing, jaw tight -- jittery.

As he makes his way out to the main street the light glitter in his eyes, too bright, too shiny. They float in and out of his vision while he makes his way down the street to the next spot. He does have a quota to meet after all.

His tongue runs over his teeth and in on itself, hot and cold and again, he chews on his bottom lip.

Bzz. Bzz.

He ignores it, catching his reflection in a shop window where he fixes up his hair. Finally happy with his appearance he makes his way further down the street until he bumps into the back of a long line for a new spot that opened up.

"Can you watch where you're g--oh, hi."

Bzz. Bzz.

His eyes travel over who owns the aggravated voice -- a light pink bodycon dress on tanned skin, caramel straightened hair passed her shoulders. When their eyes meet he sees they're a shimmering brown, the sparkle on her eyes and lips take hold on him. Easy target.

He smiles, "Hi, um, are you in line?"

"Yeah, me and my girls," she smiles, cocking her head over to two blondes and a red head -- all just as hot as the next. Little dresses and high heels, they'll get drinks bought for them all night. Certainly they can spare some change for good quality cocaine. The best Indiana has to offer from the best guy who could offer them.

"What's your name?" he smiles, eyes flitting from her manicure toes back up to her eyes, "What are a bunch of pretty girls like you doing on this side of town?"

He doesn't even know what he's saying, the charm just pools out of him. He doesn't care where she goes to school or what Blonde #2 is majoring in. He just wants to know what she looks like under that dress, how much money she's gonna spend, how quick it'll take her to say yes to sneaking to the bathroom with him.

Bzz. Bzz.

Before he knows it the group is saying he's with them and he's able to get by without a cover fee. Her tanned hand lacing with his pale one while they make their way into the club. Jackpot, he thinks.

It's a game of shots, one right after the other until he's comfortable enough to ask the girls if they want any of his supply -- he'll even give a discount since they're so sweet. They take the bait like bears to honey, dancing to house beats eith their hands in the air, eyes closed -- like a depression medicine commercial. It's too easy.

Once the cash is in hand he disappears from that group like a theif in the night. Befriends a bottle girl or two. Word gets around that the guy in the leather jacket has the goods and he starts to make a killing.

Tiff is her name, the girl in the light pink bodycon dress. He spots her again hours later, pupils as blown as he is.

Bzz. Bzz.

They both weave through people to get to each other, she stumbles on her high heels. He can barely see straight at this point, the liquor and drugs not balancing each other out quite right. The lights glitter the way they did outside but worse, he squints, and then gets to her. Another shot that makes his eyes heavy -- one too many. His hands reach around her to dance to the beat, feeling beads of sweat build on his neck. His eyes close, she's pressed up against him.

They open, he can taste her vanilla lip gloss. They close, he grabs handfuls of her ass over the soft fabric, slotting his knee between her thighs. They open, he's leading her to the back of the club.

They close, they make out against the wall until the bathroom door opens.

They open, his pants are half way down his thighs while Tiff kneels on the bathroom floor between his legs. The bass from the club does little the muffle the sound of how sloppy she's going at it. His eyes roll in his head when his tip hits the back of her throat, hand resting on the top of her head.

"Fuuuck, that's it," he breathes, half in pleasure, half bored.

Bzz. Bzz.

He fishes into his jacket pocket for his phone, wincing at the bright light while he opens the screen. He dims it quickly, as to not alert Tiff whose face is buried in his pelvis.

Three missed calls. Four texts.

Missed Call x 3 Sweetheart

New Message Sweetheart 9:54 PM

hey, you were supposed to be here an hour ago. where are you?

New Message Sweetheart 10:41 PM

are you coming still? gare said he hasn't seen you. are you okay?

New Message Sweetheart 11:55 PM

i'm going to bed, rick said you were working. i miss you.

New Message Sweetheart 11:59 PM

do you miss me?

He sighs, biting his lower lip when Tiff starts to use her hands too.

"Shiiiit, doll, don't stop," he groans out, holding her head in place while she groans back in response. He shoddily types out a response with his thumb.

ofc i miss u, baby i'll see u tomorro n get u something pretty

He shoves the phone back in his pocket when Tiff finds her way up his chest, sticky gloss lips at his neck.

"Fuck me," she huffs against his skin. He smirks, a low chuckle coming from his throat. He takes her by the hips, leaning her over the skin so that he can finally see what's under that little pink dress, "Like you even have to ask."

[basiltonpitch]

anyways. i hope byler makes out until they cant breathe n have to pull away gasping for air in s5

[sorcerous-caress]

SOMEONE STOLE MY IDEA WORD FOR WORD AND IT GOT MORE ATTENTION BECAUSE THEY HAVE MORE CONNECTIONS??? imma go throw my heart into a blender rq with bananas and all, then travel to the sewage treatment facilities to personally pour it into the gutters myself.

[snekdood]

bitches be like. i hate vegans so much that i’ve decided i like killing animals and its fine and i dont feel bad and animals dont have feelings and its fine and im cool subversive and different and edgy and like to post fucked up stuff to make vegans uncomfortable bc im just so cool

[lord-squiggletits]

I need to reread the comics again to have specific arguments/evidence for this, but like

I feel a bit like I could've been sympathetic to the way other Cybertronian colonies view Cybertron, if it weren't for the fact that at least several of them (as in, ones that get notable dialogue/screen time) are so low-key self-righteous?

Like, idk... there's a lot of criticism of Cybertronians because they're so "warlike" and how their obsession with violence and vengeance is just dragging the whole galaxy down with them, but uh. The Autobot-Decepticon war was basically a product of societal ills bubbling over for like 6 million years beforehand and then finally boiling over into a 4 million year war that lasted as long as it did because the people involved had immense social/psychological trauma from being "raised" in an oppressive society.

So when the colonists come in being all 'omg you people are so violent and uncivilized why don't you just like, stop fighting' it kind of pissed me off a little bit as a reader/person like. Idk the colonists really came into this society of people full of massive amounts of trauma where even before the war society was super oppressive and no one has any experience of living "normal" lives unaffected by violence and bigotry. And the colonists were like "ummm wow why don't you guys just??? stop fighting???." Like idk it wasn't EVERY SINGLE MOMENT, in fact I think that when it was played for laughs it's quite a funny "fridge horror" type element. It was just annoying because like.... IDK???? It's just really annoying to watch a bunch of people who lived relatively sheltered lives on their own planets come to a different planet full of traumatized people and be like "omg why are you people so fucked up" IDK BRO MAYBE BECAUSE THEIR SOCIETY WAS OPPRESSIVE AND THEY LIVED THROUGH A LIFELONG WAR???

It also doesn't help that the colonies were literally founded based on imperialism and conquest so like, it's fucking rich to hear colonists scolding Cybertronians for their violence ruining the whole galaxy while literally sitting on planets that their Primes colonized from others. The hypocrisy of this is briefly mentioned in Unicron (literally the FINAL STORY OF THE SERIES) but like, that's basically the only time Cybertronian characters are given a reprieve of sympathy from other characters in universe and it's so tiresome.

I've talked to other people who didn't like the colonists and thought they basically (narratively speaking) existed just to shit on the existing characters, and it's actually really easy for me to sympathize with/outright agree with that assessment of the story considering how much of exRID/OP seems to be preoccupied with "Cybertron/the Primes/Optimus sucks" with very few reprieves for anything positive happening and even fewer chances for characters to get to explain themselves and experience a little bit of justice? Like, as the audience, it's just very frustrating to see the characters you spent hundreds of issues keeping up with get shit on by a bunch of "literally-who"s and then not really get a chance to ever defend themselves, either by literally defending themselves in conversation or having some sort of narrative thing happening that vindicates them at least symbolically

[giantkillerjack]

Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!

You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!

You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!

You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!

Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!

Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!

So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.

Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!

Better accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues should suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.

Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.

Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*

Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...

Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.

Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.

Better not get confident.

Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)

Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people

- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties

- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations

- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you

- you might start loving the effect you have on a room

- you might enjoy conversations more

- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently

- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations

- you might stop apologizing so much.

- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.

Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!

Why, it would be carnage!!

In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things!

- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.

- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.

- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.

- You might know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.

You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.

So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to take to cut your awkward self some slack for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.

[gayrogues]

there is no fucking way that tom king's shitty oneshot, featuring the most out-of-character riddler known to man and a batman who breaks his no kill rule and waterboards people, got nominated for an eisner award...

[the-acid-pear]

One of the most beautiful things Deltarune story has is the fact that you cannot remove its tragedy, because it's thru that very same that hope and love is born. You cannot change the past but you can take what you learnt and thru it build a brighter future.

[medicinemane]

And maybe you'll be like "but if you don't trust businesses, how can you trust welfare?"

I fucking don't. My mom trying to get on food stamps fucked me up because a lady I never met without my permission got my SSN from my mom and started editing my files. My heart still races to this very second whenever I think about it, it kinda messed me up bad and I'll never ever ever see any kind of recourse

And I'm terrified that I'm gonna lose my medicaid just cause I inherited some money from my grandpa

And I've never even applied for disability cause it kinda doesn't matter finding out if I'd qualify or not cause of my depression, when the rules are so restrictive I don't know if I've even be allowed to keep my house

I do not fucking trust these things on a personal level. I feel like out of a lot of people I have the most to fear from them cause I'm on the edge of having things work, and that gets you punished

...but I need medicaid in order to have insurance (and when you strip out the finance side of medicaid, I love medicaid... they're honestly incredible insurance... I just... I just... dental is like 90% of why medicaid is so important to me, ever since I found out this state pays for it I've actually been able to do cleanings which is important to me cause I can't always get myself to brush)

And I think things like disability and food stamps are pretty damn important on a personal level, and honestly are also good for the economy cause they get people spending... it's practically a free cash infusion into the economy, cause these are people who need to buy stuff

There's just so much important stuff welfare does that it's worth dealing with government

No, what I want is more accountability so if someone gets my SSN from a 3rd party like my mom they're held to HIPPA styles standards where that's not ok to access my files without my permission (She changed my fucking address and tried to get medicaid to investigate me for fraud! Never even met me)

Like have some accountability there and in every situation

Secondly I want less punitive focused rules. I'd frankly prefer bezos get on disability than smack down some poor sod cause they got $2000 in the bank or cause their friend lets them live with them for free

If there's gonna be a cut off on these programs, it needs to be a solid step above the poverty line, cause... by definition I assume poverty line denotes kinda the minimum expected income people can reasonably live off of, and if you take away benefits people are gonna lose a chunk of money to covering that stuff themself, so you need a buffer before you kick people off

I don't fucking trust the government for a second, I've actively been fucked by them and on a personal level I avoid everything but medicaid and only that cause everything but the money is pleasant to deal with and I kinda need it (honestly if I was rich I'm not even kidding that I'd rather give medicaid like $400 a month than some insurance company, I sincerely like them as insurance)

But I'd trust them a lot more if they were less punitive, less out to hunt me down and gut me cause someone handed me a fiver or cause I started to get on my feet, and if government employees had concrete rules they had to follow that were actually transparent and enforced

Like 90% of my problems with welfare go away if they're held accountable and there's less "catch the welfare cheats" mentality going around

I don't trust the government in the slightest, but sadly there some jobs it kinda has to do, so I'd just rather force it to be an open book where the public can keep an eye on it and if they step out of line there's consequences (sort of like I don't trust most mega corps but happen to sometimes need stuff from them... did you know literally every cell service provider has been illegally selling shit like your location data to random people like bounty hunters, and the FCC just slapped them with a fine that's 0.02% of their yearly incomes and debated even doing that? I even can offer a source on that)

...I don't trust much of any authority cause they constantly fail me and kinda screw me. Don't trust doctors either, but I still gotta go to them, you know? ...they're just... they're real bad at listening... so many systems need systemic change

(You know who I really don't trust is the cops. I could point to so many examples. My uncle doesn't trust cops either, and he's an ex Fire and SWAT paramedic, he worked with them and we still got into a long conversation where he basically tore into them far better than I can)

(I don't trust authority that's not accountable)

[chillllii]

when the audhd is fun until you become "i really really really have to give my input/side/idea and i dont give a fuck who's talking or what everyone was initially talking about" and before this site's illiteracy kicks in i'm certain we're all guilty of this to some extent

[naomiknight-17]

Sitting in a waiting room with Mom cuz she has a doc's appointment

There's a sign on the door saying masks are STRONGLY encouraged

Only Mom and I are wearing masks

There are over a dozen people waiting

The fact that I haven't massacred the whole room is a testament to my incredible self-control

[rjalker]

"you can cull invasive species but you shouldn't enjoy it" no actually I think people should in fact be allowed to enjoy helping their fucking environment.

People in Australia hunting and shooting cats and being proud of it and making hats out of their fur? Good for fucking them. You don't get to tell people they are not allowed to have fun with killing invasive species that are destroying their native ecosystems. People are in fact allowed to enjoy hunting and it does not in fact make them a bad or cruel person. No, not even if the animal they're hunting is feral cats.

You do not get to demand people feel bad about killing invasive species just because you'd feel bad about doing the same. Especially when the invasive species was something specifically brought over by white colonizers.

Stop fucking shaming people for killing invasive species. Stop demanding people feel bad about killing invasive species. Stop demanding that people who kill invasive species live up to your "tragic but necessary" idea of how this is supposed to work. People do not have to feel sad for the invasive species they kill to be doing good fucking work.