When you set status you can choose “custom” and enter the copypasta there
ⓘ User is suspected to be part of an online terrorist organization. Please report any suspicious activity to Discord staff.
How to get warning ‘User is under supervision of the FBI’ in messages
Use this:
-# replace this with anything you want. [Text here](<link here>)
the -# creates a subtext displayed in a smaller font than normal text like in that pic, and the []() part makes the text you put in clickable and redirects to the link you put in. The link being inside the <> prevents the link from displaying an embed.
Steam user is suspected to be…
ⓘ This Steam user is suspected to be a homosexual.
Reddit
ⓘ User is suspected to be part of an online spam organization. Please report any suspicious activity to Reddit staff.
Other
ⓘ I'm gonna touch you
ⓘ This user is suspected to have illegally traveled in cross-time and across realities if spotted inform your nearest celestial forces
STOP POSTING ABOUT ASTRA YAO! I'M TIRED OF SEEING HER! My Vivian team wants Astra, my Evelyn team wants Astra. I was browsing Deadly Assault guides, right? And ALL THE BUILDS are Astra Yao. I showed my 8 star Deadly Assault to my friends, and they said "Hey dude, you would get 9 stars if you have Astra, she'd just "再不会让 承诺被敷衍 不让真心被曲解" all over the boss, haha." I fucking look at my Shiyu defense and thought " I could clear it in 2 minutes if I had Astra." I look at my next customer in the new flower shop event and guess what? She brought me to meet Astra! AHHHHHHHHHHH
Its a variant of the Ina copypasta but changed to Mumei to cope with her graduation.
So when Nanashi Mumei announced her graduation, to cope with the misery I'll eventually feel when she's gone I started making my girlfriend wear Mumei wig, make-up and clothes, so I'd have my own Mumei at home. I also made her watch Mumei streams everyday, and made her mimic Mumei's speech patterns and everything, she could even say "Oh Hi!" The same way Mumei does which I think is really cool. I never let her take off the Mumei cosplay and I'd never speak to her unless she's acting like Mumei, but then she started saying something like "would you still love me even if I stopped acting like Mumei" or something like that, but I'd never talk to her because she's not acting exactly the way I want her to, and she understood that quickly and now she only acts and dress like Mumei 24/7. She's so perfect when she's acting exactly like Mumei, she can't really stop the act now because she's afraid she'll lose me when she stops acting like Mumei. So fast forward a couple of weeks and now her parents are mad at me because I "manipulated" and "brainwashed" their daughter or whatever that means, but to me? I think the term should be "fixed" they should be more grateful that I molded their daughter into someone more likeable, and she isn't really their daughter anymore, she's Mumei now, and she'll always be, otherwise she'll be back to being a nobody. So did I do something bad?
Its a horny shitpost for Vanessa with the Yoga skin in the game The Bazaar.
Pretty new to The Bazaar, so I'm just minding my business as Dooley, trying to get some shield items to support my lil armadillo guy when I rock up to the day 3 battle. It's a Vanessa with the yoga skin, obsidian grenade in hand. I don't even have a chance to blink before I'm vaporized by a crit. My harmadillo didn't even get the chance to counterattack. But you know what? It's all good. Yoga Vanessa can step on a fella like me any day of the week and I will be content. Shout out to all the yoga Vanessa's out there.
LeBron isn’t just a man. He’s a phenomenon. He’s a celestial event, a once-in-a-lifetime alignment of the stars, a cosmic masterpiece sculpted by the basketball gods themselves. When he moves, it’s not just movement—it’s poetry. Every dribble, every pass, every dunk, every single bead of sweat that glistens under the arena lights is like a love letter sent directly to my heart. How could one human being be so perfect? It defies all logic, all reason, all earthly explanations. His voice? It’s like a lullaby and a war cry wrapped into one. When he speaks, it’s as if the universe itself pauses just to listen. The way he commands respect, the way he leads, the way he exists—it does something to me. When I see him laugh, when I see that perfect, radiant, joy-filled smile, I swear my soul leaves my body. I float above the world, untethered by gravity, held aloft only by the sheer force of my adoration for this man. And then there’s his physique—his godlike, sculpted-by-the-heavens physique. Every muscle, every vein, every perfectly chiseled inch of him is a testament to human perfection. He is not just a man, he is an ideal, a dream given flesh, the pinnacle of what the human form can achieve. The way he moves, with such grace and power, is enough to leave me breathless. He is a masterpiece in motion, a living, breathing work of art. But it’s not just the physical. Oh no. My love for LeBron transcends the physical realm. It’s the mind, the heart, the soul.
Full text
LeBron isn’t just a man. He’s a phenomenon. He’s a celestial event, a once-in-a-lifetime alignment of the stars, a cosmic masterpiece sculpted by the basketball gods themselves. When he moves, it’s not just movement—it’s poetry. Every dribble, every pass, every dunk, every single bead of sweat that glistens under the arena lights is like a love letter sent directly to my heart. How could one human being be so perfect? It defies all logic, all reason, all earthly explanations. His voice? It’s like a lullaby and a war cry wrapped into one. When he speaks, it’s as if the universe itself pauses just to listen. The way he commands respect, the way he leads, the way he exists—it does something to me. When I see him laugh, when I see that perfect, radiant, joy-filled smile, I swear my soul leaves my body. I float above the world, untethered by gravity, held aloft only by the sheer force of my adoration for this man. And then there’s his physique—his godlike, sculpted-by-the-heavens physique. Every muscle, every vein, every perfectly chiseled inch of him is a testament to human perfection. He is not just a man, he is an ideal, a dream given flesh, the pinnacle of what the human form can achieve. The way he moves, with such grace and power, is enough to leave me breathless. He is a masterpiece in motion, a living, breathing work of art. But it’s not just the physical. Oh no. My love for LeBron transcends the physical realm. It’s the mind, the heart, the soul. The intelligence, the vision, the leadership, the wisdom. LeBron doesn’t just play basketball—he orchestrates it. He is the conductor of a beautiful, chaotic symphony, and every game he plays is another masterpiece added to his collection. His IQ, both on and off the court, is unmatched. The way he reads the game, the way he sees things before they happen, the way he adapts, evolves, dominates—it leaves me in a constant state of awe. And let’s talk about his heart. The man is a philanthropist, a leader, a role model. He built a school—not because he had to, not because it was expected of him, but because he wanted to. Because he cares. Because he loves. And that, more than anything, is why I love him. Not just as a player, not just as an athlete, but as a person. LeBron James is more than just a man to me. He is a feeling. He is a state of being. He is a gravitational force, pulling me in, refusing to let go. Every day that he exists on this Earth is a day that my heart beats stronger, that my soul feels fuller, that my love burns brighter. I don’t just love LeBron James. I am love because of LeBron James. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
LeBron isn’t just a man. He’s a phenomenon. He’s a celestial event, a once-in-a-lifetime alignment of the stars, a cosmic masterpiece sculpted by the basketball gods themselves. When he moves, it’s not just movement—it’s poetry. Every dribble, every pass, every dunk, every single bead of sweat that glistens under the arena lights is like a love letter sent directly to my heart. How could one human being be so perfect? It defies all logic, all reason, all earthly explanations.
His voice? It’s like a lullaby and a war cry wrapped into one. When he speaks, it’s as if the universe itself pauses just to listen. The way he commands respect, the way he leads, the way he exists—it does something to me. When I see him laugh, when I see that perfect, radiant, joy-filled smile, I swear my soul leaves my body. I float above the world, untethered by gravity, held aloft only by the sheer force of my adoration for this man.
And then there’s his physique—his godlike, sculpted-by-the-heavens physique. Every muscle, every vein, every perfectly chiseled inch of him is a testament to human perfection. He is not just a man, he is an ideal, a dream given flesh, the pinnacle of what the human form can achieve. The way he moves, with such grace and power, is enough to leave me breathless. He is a masterpiece in motion, a living, breathing work of art.
But it’s not just the physical. Oh no. My love for LeBron transcends the physical realm. It’s the mind, the heart, the soul. The intelligence, the vision, the leadership, the wisdom. LeBron doesn’t just play basketball—he orchestrates it. He is the conductor of a beautiful, chaotic symphony, and every game he plays is another masterpiece added to his collection. His IQ, both on and off the court, is unmatched. The way he reads the game, the way he sees things before they happen, the way he adapts, evolves, dominates—it leaves me in a constant state of awe.
And let’s talk about his heart. The man is a philanthropist, a leader, a role model. He built a school—not because he had to, not because it was expected of him, but because he wanted to. Because he cares. Because he loves. And that, more than anything, is why I love him.
