#send me more! I'm on a roll

[leupagus]

Am I writing the Meereen scenes as essentially "1776" with less singing and more threats of burning each other alive? Look,

x

Just then a group entered the library, arguing at and over each other. They were the most unlikely hodgepodge collection of people Tyrion had ever seen in his life: a young man in the rough spun smock favored by Meereen's freedmen, a tall bearded fellow wearing ornate robes that identified him as a member of one of the "great families," a woman dressed in the silk sleeveless tunic of a prostitute, and a half-dozen others, each more surprising than the last.

"All I am saying, my lord Hizdahr," said one woman, wearing a flowing dress and the choker that signaled her status as a Red Priestess, "is that your ridiculous notion of religious 'persecution' is so broad as to render any religious judgement meaningless!"

The tall bearded one slammed the door shut behind them and followed the group as it meandered its way over to a large oval table near a window, piled high with scrolls and books and half-written sheets of paper. "And all I am saying, my lady Kinvara, is that reducing the population via pyrotechnics is directly contradictory to achieving peace and stability, as well as freedom for all Meereenese!"

"Both of you shut up," sighed the man in the smock as they all settled into what seemed to be their usual seats. Thus far none of them had taken notice of either their queen or of him. One of the group, an old man with a white beard and a limp, got up almost immediately to totter over to one of the bookshelves, pulling out an alarming number of tomes with a thoughtful expression on his face. "And stop calling each other 'my lord' and 'my lady' when you're irritated, it makes my hands itch and I just want to wrap them around your throats."

"And you would be free to do so, were we followers of the Drowned God," snapped the one called Hizdahr as he rose to his feet, striding over to the old man and taking the pile of books. This evidently didn't put much of a damper on his ability to argue, however, as he twisted round to glare at the Red Priestess. "Any blood shed by a faith is fine, so long as it's your own devout you're killing? That seems to be your definition of 'religious freedom.'"

"Does the Drowned God punish its criminals by strangling them?" asked a young person surrounded by papers, fingers blue from ink and scribbling madly. "I thought it would be. Well. Drowning."

This seemed to side-track the conversation for a bit, and Daenerys moved away toward the door at the opposite end of the library.

"Who in the hells are they?" asked Tyrion as he followed her, before remembering his audience and wincing.

"Meereen's new Governance Charter Council," replied Daenerys, looking torn between annoyance and amusement. "They're drawing up a new system of laws and regulations for the city, as well as a system to choose their leaders."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. It still does," she added, somewhat reluctantly. "But tyranny has its advantages."

"For the tyrant, certainly," he agreed, and winced again.

Fortunately, she laughed. "Certainly. But I mean for everyone. A just form of government will still fail its people, after all. And then who do they blame? Themselves, for choosing their own leaders? At least with me, Meereen has someone to hate."

"Do they hate you?" asked Tyrion, somewhat surprised. Granted, he'd not had much chance to mingle among the hoi polloi, but the crowd at the fighting pits had seemed quite approving of their new queen.

"They don't love me."

Tyrion rolled his eyes. "Well, love. That always fades in the end, doesn't it?"

"Does it?" Daenerys looked thoughtful. They had arrived at the other door and a librarian opened it for them. She did not bow, he noted; simply nodded and closed the door behind them. Daenerys seemed not even to notice, mulling over his question as though it had been a serious one.

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[reitheist]

Your icon and header are giving me some OLD SCHOOL visual kei vibes but I am terrible at faces

correct! my pfp is yoshiki of x japan and my header is pulled off some malice mizer cd i downloaded a while ago. very classic old school visual kei

[fuwaprince]

This guy I've been emailing is kind of fucking hot and we have a meeting on Monday >:) he described himself as clumsy with old eyes and a tiny keyboard and I think that's funny

[flockrest]

thoughts on... / always accepting / @sentinaels

thoughts on rauru and/or sonia, from dineli? 👀

     "So! Our new allies!"

     The rush of the Windlines dims. His pulse fades out of focus. He sighs, breath forming a cloud of condensed exasperation. Of course. Leave it to Taki to pursue a line of thought like this — even now, when it has nothing to do with anything.

     No — especially now, Dineli corrects, when the matter of the newfangled kingdom and its newfangled sovereigns is the last thing he wants finding him after he's left their stone walls and festooned pillars behind. When it's the last thing he wants following him back into these peaks he's truly missed in his time away like some incessant buzzard — or an opponent vying for the first sliver of an opening.

     "What," he begins, banking and dipping to avoid Taki's spear-tip. It's a twirling swoop that brings them talons-to-talons as they shoot further past him than intended without a solid target to brace against: he wastes nary a beat in catching them before they can rise out of his grasp, heavier weight stalling his flight for a second — then he's hauling them into a loop that ends with them flung aside and out of proper form, "about them?"

     They laugh as they right themself, a smooth recovery as always. "Come now, Elder. Your thoughts, your judgement, your verdict!"

     Again, the last thing he wants to discuss right now. He's petty enough to conspicuously nock an arrow and let them curve right around it when it's released, only to swiftly guide two more straight into their side. Padded though both his bolts and Taki may be, they still cough out a squawk that has mirth lining even his voice. "You know these."

     "That was before you nested with King Rauru and Queen Sonia," they counter, weaving between progressively straying shots and fighting against his touched Windlines in earnest now. The accent overlaying the Hylian words sounds how thickened snow feels — refreshing, if slightly odd after days of its absence. "Surely, you have something better to say about them now?"

     A mess of conflicting emotions sprouts within him. Anticipatory thrill for the coming attack, chagrin at the utter crassness of describing his sojourn as nesting ( of all things! ), a prickle of discomfort for the fresh set of memories he's been carefully leaving at the edges of his mind ever since carrying them home — now slipping to the forefront at Taki's insistence.

     He has something new to say about them, perhaps.

     Something better? Hardly.

     Taki dives at him, spear poised to wrench the gap they've no doubt spotted in his guard wide open. It's a good attempt, if one made in vain — Dineli casts away his preoccupations in the same second it takes to register this and ascends to meet them directly.

     The Windlines lead their aim leftwards. Just a feather's breadth more of it, but enough for him to follow through and knock the shaft of their spear clean aside as he spirals up, riding along that favoured-favouring current. They're too slow to react beyond spinning with the momentum to drift rather than outright fall: it's the perfect opportunity.

     —A perfectly crafted opportunity. Taki is never too slow to react to his winds unless they want to be.

     By the stars and skytrails. It wasn't just an attempt at distraction? Are they really so eager to hear him speak on this that they'd end their spar prematurely? Dineli backs off, a refusal in more ways than one.

     "Aw, Dineli!" Taki calls after him, in a pitch and tones better suited to one who hasn't gone through as many winters.

     He sought their company to smooth down ruffled feathers, not to get more inanely vexed. If they truly want his thoughts, they'll have to compromise. "Either leave it or fight."

     "...You're insufferable," the most insufferable Rito on this side of the Hebra Mountains tells him. But they rise to chase after him, clearly making the right choice, so Dineli indulges them — the way they're indulging him.

     "Strange," he discloses when they're locked by the talons once more.

     "You really don't have anything better or new to say about them?" they ask, incredulous, the split second before they're both wheeling a path downwards.

     "Accommodating," he tries again after they've taken off from an impromptu landing.

     Taki laughs, rolling to let an arrow soar past them. "You truly still don't like them!"

     Well...what point would there be in denying it?

     "I still don't like them," Dineli affirms.

     How can you like someone you don't honestly know? He knows of the king and queen — has admittedly gotten to know more of them in his recent stay, but through the same insignificant things that informed his first impression. Little glimpses from afar that might've meant something if he deigned to care, twittering from the rest of their court that he found sycophantic at best and disturbing at worst.

     Added together, here is how the queen is: she is kind, she is powerful, and she has something divine in her blood.

     Here is how the king is: he is kind, he is powerful, and he is either a god's descendant or a god descended.

     Perhaps if Dineli were anyone else, none of that would be unsettling. Yet as Elder, what else is he to think? When he doesn't know where this kindness begins and ends, or where this power leaves Peaks Among the Ripples in the scope of Hyrule's ambitions, or why divinity should have anything to do with leading — "ruling" — when all it does is place them another unnecessary height above the capacity for understanding their people?

     "Shame you can't just spar your way into liking them, huh?!" Taki jests, arcing high before swooping after his trail.

     He turns to meet them there too, a clash between a swung bow and a thrust spear. "Don't tempt me."

[mittensmorgul]

x_x

[witchern]

i didn't realize complete and utter fucking dipshits were allowed to write for forbes magazine these days

[friendodorothys]

if I ever meet Paul, I'm not saying anything as if he's famous, I'm just going to show him my stim toys bc I think he'd really love to have them for himself and other people may not have introduced him to them

[darth-bagel]

What would Sylvas' ideal sexual experience be? How would that compare to their first/most recent experience?

Actually, this getting asked sparked a longer conversation on the side-- and I'll take the liberty of answering it for Sylvas because they'd just end up rambling forever.

[Here's the prompt this got asked for, feel free to send more~]

There isn't something like an Ideal Sexual Experience for them-- they are very much a part of a polycule and for good reasons, they wouldn't be able to just pick one thing that's the Ideal besides obviously it being consensual and with a person they like/love/enjoy a lot. They have so much sex stuff they like, but you can't make them pick to choose from like them spending like 3 hours taking Skaia apart into pieces in their bed, having a delightful time in a scene with Kalarros, being jumped by Khatte when he's around and springing off from that, or getting caught between Lana and Z on occasion.

They have a very satisfying sex life nowadays. Living their best life. Who needs ideal when you have so many people they care about to spend some lovely, lovely time with. PLUS LIKE. Every sexual experience is way better than their first time. (Which I actually have written out and it's b a d.) Basically Nothing can reach the lows that Experience Number One did. Very low bar to clear, it was practically on the floor and someone still tripped over it.

[rk800-is-hot-change-my-mind]

RAHHHHH I WANNA POST SOMETHING BUT I HAVE NOTHING TO POST

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[caseuoiseau]

Sometimes I love being the timekeeper for my department. Like the first pay period of the year, when I get to see all of the people who didn't take enough time off last year scheduling winter vacations. Watching all the time off requests and approvals roll into my inbox like

[sugume]

r/ATIA for WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

More: Fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, dubcon, piss kink, necrophilia, manhandling, choking, coercion, teacher x student, power dynamics, blackmail, threesome, Cuck!Gojo, drinking. unedited

Featuring: Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru

PART 2

r/fuckingmystudent posted by u/Nanami_Kento 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to recall the events that lead you to get your brains fucked by your professor. He caught you filming a video for your Onlyfans in his class. So, he took your phone and asked you to meet him in his office after class. There, he forced you to unlock your phone and show him what exactly you were recording. It was utterly humiliating and watching him, watch you, finger yourself with a pen underneath the desk. After, he’d told you that he’d tell the dean you were getting off on his voice lecturing you unless you did something for him.  Which led you ass up on his desk, trying your hardest not to make a peep as his fat cock slammed in and out of you. “Now, what I'm going to do is take out my cell,” He grunts, rolling his hips deep into you. “And record you slamming your ass onto my cock so if you decide to open that sweet mouth of yours, I'll have no choice but to send this video to mommy and daddy back at home, understand?” You nod, tears forming in your eyes from the threat or incoming orgasm, probably both. “Say ‘Yes, Professor!’ and maybe I'll send you the video so you can post it and feed yourself this week.” 

r/peeinginher posted by u/choso_Kamo 

Ankles beside your head, Choso had you folded in half as he pounded into your swollen cunt. He’d been going for what felt like hours and you were about to reach another peak when he abruptly stopped. “Choso?” you rasp, voice raw from screaming. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, staring up at him as he stares down at your glistening cunt. He just tilts his head and continues to stare. You’re about to ask again when he blinks from whatever trance he is in and starts thrusting in and out, slower this time. “Nothin’ baby, jus’ gotta piss.” “T-then stop and go, hm–” you gasp when he pushes your legs down further. “Stop and go to the bathroom Cho.” you try to pull his hands off your calves. Choso tightens his hold and grins down at you. “C-Choso?” “Why would I get up when I have a perfectly capable toilet right here.” Is all you hear before you suddenly feel a foreign warmth in your cunt followed by wetness trickling out your pussy.  

r/askinghertoplaydead posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna 

“You wan’ me to do what?” You ask, staring up at him from your position between his legs. “I asked you to stop suckin’ my cock and hang off the bed like a drugged-up bitch on her last life.” He stares at you with a look that tells you he isn’t truly asking. “B-but ‘Kuna—” He grabs your throat. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, hm?” You grab the hand around your neck. “Mhm.” “This ‘ll make me happy, little girl,” He plants a firm kiss on your lips. “Now do as I told you, actually I’ll do it, I know you aren’t the best at following orders.” He says before pushing you back like a ragdoll. “Yes, now lay there, don’t move, don’t speak.” Sukuna reiterates, finally satisfied with your position, naked on your stomach with your head hanging off the bed. He wastes no time shoving his big cock into your cunt. You groan from the sudden intrusion “Kuna!” “Shut up, dead bitches don’t fuckin’ make sounds.”  

r/forcinga3some posted by u/Gojo_Satoru 

“Sit on his cock love,” Gojo demands, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you onto Suguru’s lap. “S-Satoru!” “’ Toru!” You and Geto screech at the same time. “C’mon guys, it’s fine I don’t mind, Loosen up!” Gojo looks at you on his best friend's lap and his cock twitching underneath his pants. He palms it. Don’t worry, we’ll have our turn. “I know you two want to fuck, c'mon! Do I really have to pull it out and shove it up your tight cunt?” Goji grits out, increasingly frustrated when the two of you stare at him like a pair of deer in headlights. “Baby, I-it was just a truth or dare question!” Your head aches and you put both of your hands on Suguru’s broad shoulders to stable yourself, trying and failing to ignore his hard under your panty-covered pussy. “Was it? So, you aren’t wet right now? And you Suguru? You aren't rock fucking hard at the thought of fucking the same pussy I cum in every night?” Gojo raises his eyebrow holding eye contact with you until you look away, face flushed. Suguru sighs, throwing his head back with murmured ‘fuck this.’ before grabbing your waist. “Yes! That’s what I thought. Ha!” Gojo laughs, watching as Suguru starts grinding you down on his bulge.  

[orchideae]

Tag drop (1/2): General.

[buggyballed]

Turning off Discord's New Mobile Layout [OUTDATED]

EDIT (Oct 22/2023): This was originally posted on Sept 8/23 and since then there are some people saying that the option to turn off the layout is no longer there. Currently I no longer have the option to turn the new layout back on so I'm not entirely sure where Discord is going with this. I still encourage everyone to leave Discord feedback regarding their opinions about the layout. (end edit).

EDIT (Dec 6/2023): Discord has started rolling out this new mobile layout permanently along with some other changes (such as adding the 'Midnight' theme for OLED screens, though how it's different compared to the previous OLED theme is unclear). The changes are discussed in this blog post as well as this YouTube video. Discord has acknowledged on Twitter that the new layout will "take some getting used to" but that the original mobile layout is no longer available.

As turning off this feature is no longer possible I have disabled reblogs on this post.

If you do not want this new update, and have not received it yet, you may need to consider disabling auto-updates in your app/playstore. For those already affected, some people have suggested that downloading an APK of an older version to get around this but I don't know how that works or how to do that so please don't ask me.

If you have any thoughts on this layout change I recommend sending them through Discord's Feedback forum as there is nothing that I personally can do about it.

The original post is underneath the read more. (end edit)

(Note: Discord themselves do have instructions on how to turn it off but it's buried at the bottom of their blog post about the change).

In case anyone else gets stuck with this garbage update, here's how you can turn it off:

In the bottom right corner there is now a section labelled "You".

Tap the "You" button to open the tab. This should bring up your Discord profile. In the top right corner there should be a little gear button for your Settings.

Tap on this to open the Settings up. You will need to navigate to your "Appearance" settings. Now there are actually two ways to do this now.

As normal you can scroll down to the Appearance section of the Settings:

Or you can utilise one of the actually useful things included in this update: The search bar. Yes, with the new layout you can type in the setting you're looking for instead of scrolling through them all.

Once you open up your Appearance settings you will need to scroll down until you find the section for the New Layout.

Tap on it to disable it and viola! You should be back to the old (and, in my honest opinion, more usable) layout. After turning it off you will be prompted to leave some feedback regarding your experience with the new layout, do with that what you will.

[keeps-ache]

i have learned Linkage :3