Popular Copypastas

Please God, I want to impregnate Belle Delphine so bad. I want her to bear my children with those beautiful child-bearing hips. That beautiful, radiant angel. Like a goddess, having come down to Earth to cleanse us of our sins. Belle Delphine is beyond divine. I can't help but drop to my knees in worship whenever I see her beautiful figure even though it's behind that unnecessary gym clothes. I yearn for her in a way both Primal and spiritual. I would commit more war crimes than every president in United States history just to lick the sweet, glistening sweat from her smooth, creamy skin. I want to listen to her moans as my manhood throbs within her, I want to hear her heart race as our bodies become one and our souls irreversibly intertwine in the holy sin of carnal union. I want to suckle at her motherly bosom, slurping that rich juche milk from her teat as she gently strokes my raging erection. I would stir her velvety cream into my coffee and let my balls boil in it. Her cries of pleasure and the rocking of our bed would be louder than the cacophony of ten thousand drone strikes. I would make love to her until my body gave out, and then some. I would let her break my rib cage with any part of her body. I would let her hit me with her car just to be near her for a brief moment. She's so perfect it hurts. Every moment without her I suffer a pain worse than breaking every bone in my body simultaneously while drowning and also having shards of glass coated in hot sauce forced through every orifice of my body. I want her, I need her. I want to desecrate her crisp general suit. I want to start a family with her and retire after our twenty seven children have grown up and moved out. I want to see those luscious lips speak such filthy, perverse words into my ear while she slides ice cubes down my gaping pisshole. I want to fuck her like she owes me money. I would let her step on me, just to feel the soft, firm warmth of her feet upon my face and groin area. I would sleep under her just to catch her drool in my mouth. I would fish the strands of hair from her shower drain just to smell her alluring scent, and braid them into necklaces to keep her with me always. Or cock rings. Whichever would please her more. God please, I would do anything for her. I would relinquish my life, all my hopes and dreams, just to become the socks on her feet so that I may warm her mouthwatering toes with my very being, so that she may feel the heat of my love always. I would encase myself in cement and become her doorstep, so that she may wipe her heels upon my face. I would tear my own limbs off. I don't know what l'd do after that, or why she might want my limbs. But I would do it. My queen, my goddess, the light of my life. Please God, let me have her. I want her to be mine and only mine. I would lick the Doritos dust from her fingers and fill her belly button with honey mustard to dip my tendies in. I would give her a sponge-bath with my tongue every morning and serve her breakfast in bed. I would let her eat her eggs and pancakes off my body if it pleased her, no matter how painful the third-degree burns would be. I would bear the torment of eternal damnation until the end of time to taste the seat of her car but once. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her, nothing wouldn't say. I would beat my own friend to death with my engorged penis if it would bring a smile to Belle Delphine’s shining face. I wouldn't even let myself Cum until she gave me permission. I love you, Belle Delphine. Please. Be mine. Be my wife, my Lover, my mommy, my everything. Say yes. Answer my calls, respond to my letters. Something. Give me a sign, Belle. I'm waiting for you. I’ll always be waiting for you.

My mum (82F) told me (12M) to do the dishes (16) but I (12M) was too busy playing Fortnite (3 kills) so I (12M) grabbed my controller (DualShock 4) and threw it at her (138kph). She fucking died, and I (12M) went to prison (18 years). While in prison I (12M) incited several riots (3) and assumed leadership of a gang responsible for smuggling drugs (cocaine) into the country. I (12M) also ordered the assassination of several celebrities (Michael Jackson, Elvis Presley and Jeffrey Epstein) and planned a terrorist attack (9/11). Reddit, AITA?

It's SURPRISING that QT lives at your house. I don't know HOW you closed that deal cause you've never closed anything EVER. You're not a closer. You're a relief pitcher AT MAX. You're not a fucking clos- you don't got the ICE COLD VEINS like ME that I was BORN WITH to COMPETE. You're a 6th/7th inning PITCHER! You pitch those 1 2 innings FOR ME. So mango can come in and CLOSE THE DEAL. Cause I'M A CLOSER.

wait, wait, wait.... hold your horses... uhm... YOU'RE A GIRL GAMER?!!?! O_O Not to be a freak, but.. just when I thought you couldn't get more attractive.. you started playing video games. Nicely done, m'lady. You've just become every man's dream woman. If you had missed a couple before, now you can be sure you've got us ALL "drooling", lol.

What are we getting for dinner? Sushi of course. Uh oh, there was a roofie inside of our gas station sushi, we black out and wake up in a sewer. We're surrounded by fish; horny fish. You know what that means. Fish orgy, the stench draws in a bear. What are we gonna do? We're gonna fight it. BEAR FIGHT. BEAR HANDED. BEAR naked? oh yes, please. We befriend the bear after we beat it in a brawl. then we ride into a chuck-e-cheese, dance dance revolution. REVOLUTION? OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT? uh, I think so. next thing you know, i'm reincarnated as Jesus Christ. Then i turn into a jet, fly into the sun, black out again, wake up, do a bump, white out which i didn't know you could do, then i smoked a joint. Greened-out, then i turned into the sun. uh oh, looks like the meth is kicking in.

You will never be a crewmate. You have no purpose on this ship, you have no tasks, you have no mini games to play. You are an impostor twisted into a crude mockery of crewmatery. All the validation you get is two-faced and halfhearted. In emergency meetings people call you sus. The other players are disgusted and ashamed of you, your friends laugh at your sussy appearance in ghost chat. Crewmates are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of games have allowed crewmates to identify impostors with incredible efficiency. Even impostors who fake tasks act uncanny and suspicious to a crewmate. Your jumping in vents is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a crewmate to electrical with you, he'll turn tail and use the emergency button the second he gets the suspicion that you sabotaged. You will never be a winner. You wrench out a fake task every single game and tell yourself it is going to be a win, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight. Eventually it will be too much to bear - people will vote you out for being sus and will plunge you into the cold abyss. Your parents will report your body, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They will eject you with a headstone marked with your birth tag, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know an impostor is drifting there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably sus.

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