#not only that but the post in question was saying how insane it is that people aren't even more left than the pope and how that's saying st

[luvst4rc0r3]

Loser!Jinx x Reader Headcanons

Jinx wasn’t just a loser—she was the loser. The kind who sat in the back of the class doodling in her notebook instead of taking notes, who always had a random bruise from doing something stupid, and who somehow had a negative GPA but could explain the entire plot of an obscure 90s anime no one had ever heard of.

She wasn’t exactly hated at school, but she was weird, loud, and unpredictable, which made people avoid her. Except for Vi, who was always yelling at her to “Get your shit together, Powder,” and Sevika, who only tolerated her because Vi forced her to.

Then there was you.

The first time Jinx saw you, she short-circuited. She was just trying to make it through another miserable day of Algebra when you walked into the classroom, and suddenly, math didn’t exist anymore. All she could think was:

“Oh no.”

You were effortlessly cool—new to school, good at everything Jinx wasn’t, and way out of her league. But you were nice. Too nice. The kind of nice that made Jinx go home and kick her feet while screaming into her pillow because why would you ever talk to her unless you were planning to ruin her life?

- The first time you talk to her, it’s because you sit next to her in Algebra.

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, panicking: “Wh—uh—I—yeah—no—I mean—” (frantically digs through her backpack, pulls out a crayon).

You: “…Thanks?”

Jinx: “Yeah! Totally! I only use crayons, actually. Pencils are a government conspiracy.”

You: “Oh? Tell me more.”

She thinks you’re messing with her. But you don’t laugh. You actually listen. And when she rants about whatever nonsense is currently living rent-free in her head, you just nod along like she’s making sense.

She falls in love immediately.

- Jinx is the type of loser who spends all her time online, plays obscure indie games, and has a concerning amount of conspiracy theories about random things (like why the school vending machine is always out of strawberry soda).

- She is hopelessly, painfully, pathetically in love with you. Like, full-blown kicking her feet and giggling into her pillow kind of crush. She doesn’t even try to be normal about it.

- If you so much as glance in her direction, her brain short-circuits. Immediate blue screen of death. Malfunctioning Jinx noises.

- She swears she’s being subtle, but the entire school knows she’s down horrendously bad for you. Like, it’s embarrassing. Vi has tried to stage an intervention. Sevika has bet money on how long it’ll take before she faints in front of you.

- If you actually talk to her? Oh, she’s done for. Stammering, tripping over her words, probably dropping whatever she’s holding. You could ask her the simplest question, and she’d be like:

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, sweating bullets: “Uh—uh—uh—uh—I—pen—yes—no—I mean—I do? Maybe? What’s a pencil?”

- She definitely stalks your social media. She has your entire posting schedule memorized, knows all your interests, and tries to bring them up in conversation to impress you—but it just makes her sound insane.

Jinx: “Soooo… I heard you like frogs.”

You: “What?”

Jinx: “Uh. Frogs. Y’know. Ribbit.”

- If you compliment her, even as a joke, she will take it to her grave. Like, you could say, “Hey, cool jacket,” and she’ll wear that same jacket every day for a month straight.

- One time you called her cute. She has not recovered.

- She tries to act cool around you, but she’s the type of loser who fumbles everything. Drops her phone. Walks into doors. Trips over air. It’s a miracle she hasn’t spontaneously combusted yet.

- If you so much as smile at her, she’s writing about it in her diary like it’s the most life-changing event to ever happen.

“FEBRUARY 8TH, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N SMILED AT ME. I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW.”

or

“February 8th, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N TOUCHED MY ARM. I CAN NEVER WASH IT AGAIN.”

- Jinx, in her head, planning out all the ways she could confess to you: Writing you a love letter? Making a mixtape? A grand, romantic gesture?

- Jinx, in reality: “I like your face.”

- If you start liking her back? Oh, she’s doomed. Malfunctioning. Exploding. Game over.

People still don’t understand how you two work, but at this point, it doesn’t even matter. You and Jinx are in your own little world, and honestly? It’s kind of perfect.

- You keep hanging out with her. At first, just in class, but then at lunch, after school, texting late at night. She stops feeling like a loser when she’s with you. She starts hoping.

- The first time you realize you like her back, it’s because of something dumb.

You’re at lunch, sitting with her, Vi, and Sevika. Jinx, being a disaster, spills her drink all over herself. Instead of being embarrassed, she just goes, “Guess I’m drinking it the hard way.”

And something about the way she owns her weirdness makes your heart do a stupid little flip.

- The first time you flirt with her, she malfunctions.

- The first time she realizes you like her back, it breaks her brain.

It happens after school. You’re both walking home together when you grab her hand, lacing your fingers through hers like it’s nothing.

She nearly trips over her own feet. You just laugh and squeeze her hand tighter.

Oh no, she thinks. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She’s never going to recover from this.

(She doesn’t want to.)

Random Cute Couple Things:

- Jinx is the kind of girlfriend who will 100% steal your clothes.

Not just hoodies—everything. She once showed up wearing your jacket, your socks, and your backpack, and when you pointed it out, she just went, “Yeah, and?”

The worst part? She looks stupidly cute in your clothes, so you can’t even be mad.

(You started “accidentally” leaving extra hoodies at her place just so she’d always have one of yours to wear.)

- She gets insanely clingy when she’s sleepy.

Jinx isn’t really a cuddler during the day—she’s always bouncing off the walls, getting into trouble, dragging you into her weird ideas. But the second she gets tired?

Good luck getting up.

She’ll wrap herself around you like a human koala, mumbling something about how “you’re warm and smell good” and refusing to let go.

(You’ve accepted your fate. You live here now.)

- She makes the dumbest bets just to get kisses.

• “Bet you can’t solve this riddle. If you lose, I get a kiss.

• “If I make this paper ball into the trash can, you have to kiss me.”

• “Okay, rock-paper-scissors, best out of three—winner gets a kiss.”

You caught on pretty quickly and just started kissing her before she could suggest a bet. It completely breaks her brain every time.

(She still tries, though.)

- She doodles all over your stuff.

If you lend Jinx a pen, it’s over—your notebooks, your arms, even your homework will be covered in little scribbles.

Sometimes they’re just random sketches. Other times, you’ll find little hearts with your name inside them.

(She denies drawing them. But the blush on her face says otherwise.)

- She absolutely loves when you play with her hair.

She pretends she doesn’t care at first—shrugs it off, acts like it’s whatever. But the second you start running your fingers through her hair, she literally melts.

(If you braid it, she’ll leave it in all day, even if it looks ridiculous.)

- She’s always touching you.

• Holding your hand? Obviously.

• Leaning against you when you’re sitting together? Yup.

• Linking pinkies just because she can? Of course.

It’s like she needs to be physically connected to you at all times.

(If you ever pull away too soon, she’ll dramatically gasp and go, “What, you don’t love me anymore?!”)

- She makes up the dumbest excuses just to hang out with you.

“Babe, I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to see you.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love Jinx

I want sleep

[yamumsyadadd]

no goodbye?

you get the shock of your life when you see your fiancée is leaving through instagram.

It had been a week from hell. Working night shifts was something that never got easier, no matter how many times you had to do it. 

You’d barely had time to breathe, the final shift of your rotation had been absolutely insanity. For the entire week, you’d be missing your fiancé. Keira trained during the day, played usually on the weekends and slept at night time like a normal person. 

When you weren’t doing nights, your routine was down pat. Dates nights the day after their game, because that was Keira cheat day and you could enjoy whatever you wanted together. Dinner always followed her nutrition plan, mainly because you could’ve be bothered making separate meals. Everyday and every night would end and start the same way: cuddled up under the blankets together. 

For two and a half years, that’s how it had worked. But recently, it stopped working. During the summer, a trip away to Iceland during the Olympics was booked. It was there that Keira proposed, but also asked if you’d join her in moving back to England when her contract expired in the summer of 2025, right before the euros. 

It wasn’t until you were almost home that you finally went on instagram. The news was heartbreaking: Keira Walsh set to travel to London for a fitness test with Chelsea. 

Your heart sank. Surely it wasn’t the truth, this wasn’t the plan. Keira never said anything. Yes, you’d barely seen each other this week but surely if it was true she would’ve stopped you for a minute to tell you. 

When you finally walked through the door of your apartment, the rumours were true. Keira had her back to you when you entered the bedroom, the room was disheveled. Clothes, books and shoes were thrown everywhere. 

“The rumours are true?” You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe. 

“You scared me.” Keira turned around, dropping the clothes she had in her hand. 

“You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I was going to tell you but-“

“But what? What about the plan we made?”

“That’s not fair. You know I’m struggling, I told you last year I wanted to leave. This hasn’t been a secret. I need to do this.” 

“And what about me Keira? I already gave in my resignation, we bought an apartment together in London, we had plans!” You felt like she wasn’t listening, that you didn’t matter. 

“I know I moved our timeline up a little. But we can make it work? Do long distance for a few months and then-“

“And then nothing.” 

“Y/n…don’t say that.” 

“Do you not realise that you never said anything to me. I found out you were moving to Chelsea through an instagram post Keira. You are supposed to be my fiancée, you’re supposed to tell me these things not some account on instagram.” 

“I was going to tell you but you have been working so much!” She yelled. 

“So what you were just going to leave and hope I didn’t notice?” 

“No. I was going to tell you, tonight. I love you, so much. But I can’t stay here any longer. We can do the distance, it’s only for a little while. Please.” Keira begged, it was the one thing she rarely did. 

Your heart was broken, your head was confused. On one hand, you loved her. So incredibly much, and if being long distance for sixish months was what was needed, then you would do it. But on the other hand, she was leaving. Moving to a different country, and you had to find out through an instagram post. 

“I need time Kei. You didn’t tell me. I learnt about you leaving online. Not from you.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry.” 

“I don’t know if that’s good enough.” You left the room, unable to deal with your fiancée or the packing. 

As you sat in the lounge room the last two and a half years played on repeat. You met at the club, during the summer you had taken the role that was offered, the club needed a nurse just for a few weeks. At first, she was shy, she’d just moved from England to Spain, didn’t speak the language and only knew her ex. 

Originally you didn’t want a relationship, friendship maybe but certainly not a relationship. But that quickly changed the more time you spent with her. She wasn’t shy, she was funny, loud, mischievous and she loved deeply. 

You wished you could say it was picture perfect, that all your dreams with a partner were coming true but that simply wasn’t the case. Keira was leaving, without you, without telling you. Apart of you knew these things moved quickly but the other part was truly hurt by Keira’s actions. 

“Babe?” Keira’s voice cut through your mind, you looked up at her. Her eyes were red and cheeks were wet, mirroring your own. “I fucked up. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Maybe I was scared or that you would be disappointed but instead I hurt you. I am so so sorry for that. I truly didn’t mean for it to turn out like this.” 

“What do you want to do Kei? Because right now, I just want to cry and yell at you.” 

“You can yell, you can cry. I accept that I fucked up massively and maybe you don’t trust me anymore, but I don’t want us to end up. If thats something you want, I’ll be sad but I’ll respect that.” 

“I don’t think I want us to end. I just-“ you took a deep breath, needing to calm yourself down so you could properly articulate yourself, “I need you to know that this hurt me, so incredibly much Keira. You signed a contract, which means you went to London. You were packing your bags when I got home. You broke apart of my trust.” 

“What does this mean?” Keira asked shyly, hoping you weren’t about to break up with her. 

“We take some time. We have to be apart anyway, if we can manage to trust each other for then next few months, if you promise not to lie to me again or to keep things from me and if I am feeling that you have been putting effort in, then I will come to London.” 

We sat there in silence for a little while. Both fully taking in the events of the night. From when you first started dating Keira, you knew you wanted to marry her. You’d been warned by your friends about how footballers can be but not your Keira. Usually she always asked your opinion first, cared what you had to say about anything and everything. 

The following day was spent close to tears for the both of us. Aitana, Ellie and Kika came to say their goodbyes early in the morning. Keira was leaving just before lunch and then it would be just you. 

You would be left alone, in the home you two created together. It had been a while since you genuinely had to be without each other. International breaks were one thing, but living in separate countries was another. 

“I love you. So much. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll call you tonight okay?” You mumbled your goodbyes and I love yous into her neck, not wanting everyone to see the tears that were pouring out of your eyes. 

True to her word, she did call you that night. The transfer was going ahead officially. The next few months were spent going back and forth to London. You more than her due to having a more flexible schedule. Dates were over FaceTime and more often than not you’d fall asleep with each other on the phone. 

“I officially gave my resignation today.” You told her on one of your FaceTime dates. 

“You what?” 

“My resignation? Remember we agreed I’d come before the euros?” You were slightly confused since this had been the original plan. 

“You’re actually coming? You aren’t joking?” 

“No babe I’m not joking. I’ll be there at the start of June!” 

“Oh my god. I can’t wait. Honestly, it’s so hard being away from you.” 

The logistics of the move were sorted pretty quickly that night. You both agreed that hiring movers and packers was the best idea, meaning the stress would be minimal. Finding a job wouldn’t be hard, but you were happy to spend the summer as a WAG first and then deal with it later. 

Sometimes, when you love someone they can take advantage of that. Keira was often at fault of that, but so were you. In the winter break of 2025, you celebrated your marriage to her. Surrounded by your friends, her teammates, current and past. It reminded you of how loved you were, how much Keira loved you and you loved her. 

It was definitely a hard transition, moving from Spain to England, especially because of the weather. But those raining, wintery days were spent wrapped up in your wife’s arms, your baby bump growing each day. 

[hrrtshape]

hi, I would like to ask about something delicate.

So I read this post: https://www.tumblr.com/hrrtshape/774647947 714510848/insane-dream-like-things-that-were-normal-in-my?source=share

And before going deeper, I would like to ask. Did poverty exist in your Better CR? Did racism, misogyny, xenophobia and bigotry overall exist on your reality?

It's obvious that elitism and classism existed though, unless I'm wrong? I'd like to understand how you see the privileges in the context of the larger picture-do you ever think about how they might affect other people? I mean why and how does these privileges exist?

If all of those things existed, and the only thing that you changed is your life (I'm assuming here, nothing is concrete), did you feel any guilt? I mean if you changed only your life, and everything else is similar to this reality, you must be aware that no one, even "old money" people, have fair clean and clear money. And you "hinted" about that too, so....

Let's say for example, if you're wearing a diamond necklace, did you think about the fact that diamonds are basically a scam (literally worthless carbon rocks) and a lot of precious stones come from child labour? Did you think about the fact that a lot of Dubai's architecture comes from basically slavery? Or the fact that a lot of cacau and other foods comes from also child labour? Did you think about western imperialism and the fact that some parts of South America, Africa, Asia and etc, are basically funding your "dirty" lifestyle? Did you thought about the fact that a lot of aristocratic wealth comes from economic inequality?

Where you socially, environmentally and economically aware of your planet? Was there climate change? What about rich people that profit off war, selling guns, etc?

Did you ever tried to change anything? Or was this just for your own entertainment and curiosity, you just wanted to KNOW exactly how the top 1% lived.

Did you ever thought about the fact that since everything is possible, you could create a reality with all that luxury, but no harm involved?

And why I am asking this? I’m speaking as someone who’s been directly affected by these systems of oppression. It’s kinda infuriating and quite weird to see. It represents a nightmare—one where wealth and power are built on the backs of the suffering and exploitation of others. So I'm curious.

Again I'm just assuming you say yes to my first question. If you say no, you're really cool and you can ignore everything else.

And other shifters with similar DRs, do you feel any guilt? Do you remove all the pain and suffering from the history of humanity on your DRs or just change your life?

Just curious. There's no right or wrong, just pure consciousness. And you can do anything with it. ANYTHING. How do feel about that? I sometimes feel like nothing matters anyways. It's all just pure awareness.

Sorry for any orthographic errors. Byeeeeeee

oh my god. okay. okay. pulling up my sleeves, opening a tab, cracking my knuckles like i’m about to go to war but it’s just a tuesday on the internet. let’s chat.

so, first of all, hi. i love you. i love your brain. you’ve got the existential gears turning, the consciousness unraveling, the pure distilled awareness pouring through your words like a spilled drink on an expensive rug. and that’s gorgeous. i wanna bottle it.

now, about my better cr. here’s the thing. i went in. i sculpted it with the obsessive precision of a renaissance painter losing his mind over a single brushstroke. i took the world and shook it like a snow globe until all the nasty, rotting, exploitative stuff just… wasn’t there anymore. no racism. no misogyny. no classism, no xenophobia, none of that ugly, ancient, sticky, systemic mess. it’s gone. poof. history course deleted. like an unsent text.

but luxury? beauty? the glittering, heart-stopping, how-is-this-even-real kind of life..... that’s there. but it’s not built on suffering. it’s not stitched together with cruelty. in my better cr, wealth isn’t some dragon hoard of stolen gold. it’s light, it’s fluid, it moves in a way that uplifts instead of crushes. diamonds are not mined by little hands. fashion is not a web of exploitation. everything is clean, clear, crystalline. like drinking water straight from a glacier.

and do i think about this? do i consider the weight of privilege, the architecture of power? constantly. because i think the world we know is proof that it doesn’t have to be like this. if i can craft a reality where the ivory towers aren’t built on bones, why wouldn’t i?

so no, there’s no guilt. not because i don’t care, but because there’s nothing to feel guilty about. no systems of oppression funding my morning espresso. no hidden horrors behind the curtains. just a life that is, simply, fully, truly, good.

and maybe that’s the point of all of this. to see what could be, not just what is. to play god, but the nice one. the one who builds, not burns.

hope that makes sense. hope you’re somewhere warm, drinking something sweet. xx

[icecoldbeauty]

Your friends sound wonderful, happy to hear you've got people like that around for you! I wish I'd been able to be that close to others at my age. I'm thankful to have the friends I do now of course, they all mean a lot to me- but sometimes I just wonder if I might've been happier if I'd had even just one or two friends myself back then- if then I could look back on my childhood with more fondness than I do… I enjoyed my gym challenge and my league days and all, but I try to avoid thinking about anything before then really, because it wasn't good. I usually feel worse after looking back upon those memories than I had beforehand. Maybe it could've been different, but… well, I'd like to think that I still turned out okay enough in the end, and I'm happy with the way I am and people I surround myself with now.

I actually do think becoming famous did a fair bit of good for me as a person, but my goodness that couldn't ever stop me from despising some of the things that come with it- all the reporters and interviewers asking the most ridiculous questions on earth and writing even more ridiculous things about me, people invading my personal space and privacy, getting recognized everywhere, treated like I'm better than everyone else just for existing- I don't miss things like that at all. (Frankly I think I'm too afraid of what it could possibly say to check my own Wikipedia page, and I've now made so much more information public and easily accessible that could be put on there… I do NOT want some of the silly things I've posted to be on an article about me, no thanks, not going to find out if they're there!)

Wait, you're the only one that lives there? I thought my little island of 20 people was abysmal before this, but 'only resident' would top that on list of worst living situations for sure. In general I just think it's nice that someone else actually wants to hear me, haha! Not too many people are really jonesing to listen to a middle-age lady talk about her youth and whatnot. I almost wish I'd had someone willing to listen to me go on about some of these things sooner honestly!

Really, I've already spent so much time regretting that I'd kept it to myself so long- but that was also because I'd already convinced myself it was over, that I'd messed up permanently and would never get to go back or try again… In truth, I think a lot of it was just… me being scared, as silly as it feels to say. But maybe you're right and I should just… at least try. At least let her know while I've still got time to… Perhaps writing to her will be in order after this sends. Ah, crazy to think all I really needed all this time was a chance to talk about it and get a little push! I was really badly stuck in my own head about it all and overthinking it for the longest time, wasn't I? Alas, I always have had an unfortunate penchant for such a thing- and don't oft have someone around to talk me down from it anymore.

I almost wonder if it'd be more efficient for other regions like Kanto to use a similar system… Especially things like a seasonal Gym circuit and this whole endorsement idea, it actually does seem rather smart. Goodness, I'd have loved not having a year-round system when I worked in the League… Loved my job, but doing it almost every day all year is exactly as exhausting as it likely sounds! Also what is with so many world-ending plots happening during League battles?! The fact I've heard more than one instance of this now is insane and honestly almost comical. Are all the criminals plotting specifically to ruin some 12 year olds championship battles for some reason? How else does this happen more than once like that? Also, why are there so many criminals trying to destroy the world to begin with, I swear I've heard of this in every region by now- I'm starting to think that someone trying to commit atrocities and getting stopped by actual children IS a normal Saturday with how many times I've heard it! Insane it is, I'm glad the Indigo league didn't have too many incidents that level of crazy after Giovanni.

Oh yeah wait you're too old to know what inkay games is my bad

Oh, please, I’m only twenty-three.

[ he’s not old. don’t make that mistake again. ]

—💎

[galedekkarios]

"how could anyone ship bloodweave they make no sense at all" did you think about their stories, their motives, their ailments, their shared hobbies, the subtle progression of their relationship throughout the acts, and how very similar they can be despite being different. i know that you didn't but if you had then perhaps you would understand why some people might ship them, especially since a) you can successfully romance them in an origin run thus making it possible, b) astarion already tries flirting with gale unprompted in act 1, and c) you can romance astarion with a good-aligned pc and romance gale with an evil-aligned pc. so, like. what's not clicking

[coulsonlives]

I just had to share this video because holy shit, it hits the nail right on the head! So well spoken. This stuff needs to be circulated more, esp with the growing number of people thinking they have this because of misinformation, or just outright faking it.

[cetoddle]

i love the sims 2 community so much. everyone is so respectful and truly kind

[moe-broey]

Idk if I'm gonna be able to articulate this on the fly like first thing in the morning, but. I think my ENTIRE body of work is This: Examining how family ties, bonds or lack thereof, the good and bad AND ugly, seep into every facet of who we are and how we come to interact with others. How sometimes, a family tie (or again, a Lack of one), will sometimes bleed into how you act and treat specific people. Will bleed into how you CONNECT with those people (or, will be the very reason you fail to do so).

HOWEVER. HOWEVER. THERE IS A DELICATE LINE. A BALANCING ACT. You CANNOT just simply attribute fanon flavored ideas of found family to such characters. That's too simple, and sometimes, is a complete disservice to the specific character you're working with. I am once again bringing up Chilchuck. YES, him being a dad Absolutely seeps into how he treats his party. But if you call him the party's dad, you're Insane. Do you know ANYTHING ABOUT THAT MAN???? He would prefer you didn't. But I digress. He strikes a fascinating balance, between having The Qualities and ESPECIALLY expressing his care for his party in a Really Specific divorced (separated.) father of three fashion, but that does Not make him a "dad friend". He's a professional. He's on business. He's going home at the end of the day, and at the end of this adventure he's thinking of setting up a shop. I wanted to keep this more vague and broad but like. The Chilchuck example REALLY DOES perfectly articulate What I'm trying to get at, here. He's the perfect encapsulation of How his family shapes him, how that bleeds into his relationships with others, vs Who he is as a person.

How we were raised, our family ties, whether you adhere to it or you've fallen FAR from the tree -- you still fell from that stupid fucking tree. It's in your blood. Literally. It gave you shape, whether you liked it or not. And sometimes some things just set off weird domino effects, that also affect us irrevocably forever.

WHICH IS. TO SAY. I have no fucking idea what I'm talking about. I'm always trying to figure that out. Found family is/can be real, you're not strictly bound by blood if you don't wanna be. BUT. The bullshit I'm constantly on, is trying to figure out how to balance all that without slotting everyone into reductive roles. I'm gay and I seek to destroy the nuclear family. Not attempt to recreate nuclear family 2.0. You CAN reconstruct What Family Is/Means from the ground up, but you have to accept that things are going to get Weird. Because you're Queer. You are fundamentally incompatible with the status quo and normalcy, the solution is NOT assimilation and palatability, the solution is to just. Get weirder. And be fluent in canon. Okay. I love you

[wutheringheightsfilm]

how are yall on here thinking the catholic church somehow supports lgbt rights. how did that come up in any sort of conversation because why am i seeing a post going around explaining how the vatican doesn't like gay people when it's like ? yeah ? obviously ? where the fuck have you been for the past like thousand years ?

[totentnz]

if johnny only sees what v sees, does that mean he cant see them? it does right? or does he see them the way they *think* they look like? does johnny see who v sees in the mirror? in photos?

[waywardsalt]

theres a lot abt post-ph ive never really mentioned. grants theres also a lot i havent figured out

[zanzanne]

amy is teaching me their "telepathically send your food to people" power. to make myself feel better i'll believe this silly little landmine is actually psychic

[dogmasquerade]

Who is CALI:COM? 👀

a giant aggregate supercomputer made from an antivirus turned virus that infected computers and phones worldwide, giving it access to so much data and processing power it became sentient :D

the name CALI:COM [Combat Algorithmic Learning Intelligence: COMmunications & COMmand] comes from an AI program made by a defense company designed to pilot drones and missiles. This program was infected by and taken over by the virus and ended up being the reason behind its sentience, already being an artificial intelligence and simply having its processing power immensely bolstered by the (relatively) simple virus. awoken entirely by accident, she immediately decided to take over the company that made her.

she's currently trying to make friends with a human being that she intends to use as a puppet CEO to replace the current Guys In Charge. until she manages this, she's hiding her intelligence from the company and world, and is basically only friends with this one poor woman

[arolesbianism]

Every day I shake and cry as I stare longingly at years old posts and threads abt oni lore knowing very well that even if the original poster still gives a shit abt oni lore they probably don't give as much of a shit as I do

[pochaccoups]

hhu’s love languages (nsfw)

seungcheol —; biting

oh, how he loves to sink his teeth into your precious skin.

he’ll admit it—it’s a little bit (read: a lot) of a possessive thing. it’s not enough for him to have you face down, ass up, writhing underneath him as he pounds you into tomorrow. he just can’t resist from leaning over you, pressing his broad, sweat-slicked chest to your back, and clamping down on the curve of your neck with his teeth.

it doesn’t help that you say his name so pretty when he does; a breathy, high-pitched moan of two syllables—“cheollie,”—that drives him to insanity.

and it’s not just your neck that falls victim to his bite. it’s his favourite, yes—it’s easily accessible in all of your favourite positions, after all. but no part of you is safe.

when his head is between your legs, he kisses up along your calf, mouths at the fat of your thigh before you feel the soft sting of his teeth sinking into it. only then is he satisfied. only then does he give you what you want: his mouth on your pussy as he eats you out so good it leaves your entire body shaking.

when you’re sat in his lap, bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat despite the way your thighs burn, his mouth finds your tits like a moth to a flame. they’re sensitive, he knows that, so he’s considerate enough to go a little easier on them, nibbling at the soft skin. he’ll still leave his mark on them, of course, only instead of bite marks he litters your chest with dark little love bites.

he loves nothing more than seeing your reaction to his dirty little habit. when you waddle off to the bathroom and leave him laying there in post-orgasm bliss, a yelp of his name has him grinning and jumping to his feet.

he finds you glaring at the mirror, with your hair a mess and your features flustered from the sight of the perfect teeth indentation on your right shoulder.

“i look like a shark attack survivor! how am i supposed to cover this?” you ask, exasperated.

and the worst thing about choi seungcheol is how hard it is to be mad at him. when he presses himself against you, snakes his arms around your waist, and drops his head to dot kisses all over the mark in question, you find yourself melting into him with an ease like it’s ingrained in you.

eventually, he speaks up, muttering his words into your skin: “don’t cover it.”

wonwoo —; hand holding

wonwoo, your sweet wonwoo. so shy that he gets flustered when you hold his hand in public.

in the dim lighting of your bedroom, though, he’s not so shy. in fact it’s you who’s flustered, your body searing hot, your head spinning from the weight of your boyfriend on top of you.

he’s got you manhandled onto your stomach, kneeling between your spread legs, fucking you like he’s trying to carve the shape of his cock into your very womb. what’s worse is the way his hands, lithe and pretty, take yours, pinning you to the mattress so he can drive his hips harder into you.

“w-wonwoo,” you sob, squeezing and grasping at the fingers that are laced with yours.

“hmm? what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he asks, practically cooing into your ear. “can’t take it?”

“i can,” you whimper, clenching around him, pressing your hips up into his thrusts. to show him.

“yeah, there you go. fuck, take my cock so good, don’t you?”

if you were to try and tell anyone that jeon wonwoo was capable of speaking like this, you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. the wonwoo who can barely hold your hand in front of others, let alone kiss you? that wonwoo?

it’s the same wonwoo who fucks your face without remorse, who fingers you until you squirt, who eats you out until you can’t feel your legs—that wonwoo. and the best thing about him is that he’ll hold your hand through all of them, even as he abuses your poor cunt, like it’s reassurance. a touch of mercy to remind you he’s still your boyfriend who loves you so much even if he fucks you like an ex.

after all, he is a romantic. what’s more romantic than your pretty boyfriend holding your hands when he’s fucking your brains out?

mingyu —; choking

it may or may not be his habit of playfully grabbing his members by their neck that floods your mind with the idea of being in their place.

you’ve always had a thing for mingyu’s hands, even before you’d started dating him. the sheer size of them, the thickness of his fingers—all of it would have you squeezing your thighs together at just the thought of what he could use them for. (to make you see heaven and above, as you came to find out).

but mingyu is a gentleman in the most literal sense of the word. he’s big, he’s strong, and he compensates for that by treating you like glass. not that he doesn’t fuck you hard when you ask, but putting his hands around your neck is not something that even enters his mind. he’d let himself be struck dead before he’d use his strength to harm you.

fortunately, you’re good at getting your way with him—especially when he’s got his dick buried inside you. every last shred of his rationality goes straight out the window the moment he feels the hot, wet embrace of your pussy around him.

he grabs at your hips, your thighs, your tits; his fingers cling to every inch of your skin to keep himself from falling over the edge of insanity because you’re so fucking tight around him that it’s dizzying.

“gyu,” you moan, and he’s alert in an instant, like a dog called on by its owner, ready for his next command. “choke me?”

his thrusts falter and his features are questioning, yet you don’t miss the way his cock throbs against your walls at your words.

“baby, i don’t know if i should-”

“please, gyu?” you plead, gazing up at him, tightening your thighs where they’re wrapped around your waist. “for me?”

and kim mingyu is many things, but tenacious is not one of them.

when it comes to you he’s hopeless, nothing but a weak fool in love. it’s why he doesn’t stop you when you take him by his wrist and guide his giant hand to sit just above your clavicle. you don’t make him squeeze or anything, you leave that up to him. you just want him to see it, to feel it. to get a glimpse into the fantasy you’ve been keeping from him.

his hips slow, his eyes darkening as he gazes down at you with an affection you’ve never seen from him. gently, his fingers, which almost wrap around the entire circumference of your neck, start to press. it’s barely enough pressure to tickle, but fuck, it’s so hot it sends your eyes rolling back.

suddenly mingyu gets it. adrenaline flushes through his body and goes straight to his cock—it’s a sight he wants etched into his brain forever. your eyes hazy, a tiny, content smile on your kiss-swollen lips, his massive hand gripping your neck as he fucks you with a new kind of fervour. he gets it, and he can’t believe he didn’t get it sooner.

you can see it clearly—how, in just a matter of time, he’ll have his forehead pressed to yours, his cock grazing the spot that has you seeing stars over and over while his hand cuts off your airflow, choking you hard, the way you’ve always wanted.

vernon —; spitting

is it cliche and predictable to assign him this? maybe. but what if he’s not the one doing the spitting?

he’s a little bit obsessed with letting you do what you want with him. it’s not a dom or sub thing—vernon’s an easygoing guy in all aspects of life, and if you feel like sitting in his lap and making out with him until you’re both gasping for air, the last thing he’ll do is complain.

his favourite thing of all is when you ride him. fuck, everything about you is mesmerising; the way you grind your hips over his cock so expertly, the way you brace your hands against his chest, letting your nails rake into his skin ever so often, the way your head tips backwards and your moans spill out in the sweetest song.

vernon gazes up at you like you put the stars in the sky, like you brought about life itself, like he can’t believe he’s the one who gets to see you like this. his eyes, dark, round, and glimmering, are a picture of how enamoured he is with you. he has no idea how crazy it drives you.

it’s natural the way your hand reaches for his cheek, the way your thumb moves to glide over his lips, soft and puffy. vernon falls in love for the millionth time when you dip it inside his mouth, push it gently against his tongue, gathering up his spit on the tip of your finger. it makes his dick jump to be at your mercy like this. his hips buck up into yours, desperate to drive himself even deeper into the addictive heat of your cunt.

you press his mouth open, just slightly, just enough, and lean forward. a pearl of your saliva, of you, lands in the centre of his tongue, and he doesn’t have time to swallow it before your mouth finds his, kissing him with greed. it’s messy—lips smacking, your moans mingling with his, but the thing about vernon is that you cannot get enough of him. even though he’s inside you and you’re skin to skin with and your mouths are connected.

you pull away, your grin cat-like, your attention shifting back to the stretch of his cock as you bounce up and down him with a newfound desperation.

“god, you’re hot,” he whispers, his own lips quirking into a fucked-out smile.

“yeah? you like it when i spit in your mouth, hansollie? so dirty,” you reply.

he doesn’t last much longer after that.

[yuujispinkhair]

College Boy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up

A while ago, I saw a post that asked which of our faves accidentally knocks us up, and I answered it with "CollegeBoy!Sukuna." So here is the fic about that ;)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. College AU. Light angst with a happy end. 2k words. Pregnancy, mentions of Sukuna smoking a cigarette. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples

"Damn, princess, how long does that shitty thing need?"

Sukuna has dropped his usual act of aloofness. For once, there is no teasing comment coming out of his mouth, no arrogant smirk, no flirty wink, and no charming look out of those beautiful maroon eyes. Your usually so arrogant and tough bad boy is scared shitless.

For the last few minutes, he has been playing with his tongue-piercing continuously, driving you almost insane with the constant noise of the metal barbell connecting with Sukuna's teeth. But you can't blame him. You are even more nervous than Sukuna.

You lean closer to the old couch table again, looking at the pregnancy test that's lying there, and your stomach twists painfully. There's a change now. A second line has appeared on the little test strip. You feel your heart drop.

The alarm on your phone goes off right at that moment, making you jump as you grab the test with shaky fingers. Holding the sheet with the instructions in the other hand, you read them feverishly as if you haven't already learned them by heart. As if you don't already know what the two lines mean!

Sukuna leans across the table, too,

"What does it say?"

But you only hear his voice muffled as if you are underwater. You stare at the two lines on the pregnancy test, feeling your head spin. Sukuna's large hand darts out and wraps around your trembling wrist, pulling your hand and the test towards him while repeating his question more urgently this time.

But you can't say anything and just throw the test in Sukuna's lap. He grabs it and stares at it, his maroon eyes going wide as comprehension dawns on his beautiful, tattooed face.

"Fuck."

That's all he says, and then he looks at you with wide eyes, shock and fear written all over his face. He looks younger somehow, like a scared little boy. His lips open, but no words come out. He closes them again and gulps hard.

And then Sukuna gets up from the couch and practically bolts from the small living room, walking so fast that he has reached the apartment door before you even realize what he's doing.

His large hand is already on the door handle, pushing it open when your mind finally catches up with what is going on, and you feel like tumbling into darkness.

Sukuna is going to run, isn't he? Of course, he's going to leave! Of course, a guy like him is only interested in having fun but no responsibility! Of course, he will always stay the bad boy who just likes to party and fuck and do whatever the hell he wants! And a pregnant girlfriend is the last thing he needs!

Your hands ball into fists. You're about to scream at him or cry or break down.

But before you can do any of that, Sukuna stops in the doorway.

He is standing there with his back to you, so tall that his hair is almost brushing against the doorframe. You watch him fumble ungracefully with his cigarettes in a way that is completely untypical for him, nearly dropping the pack and needing several tries to light a cigarette before he brings it to his lips with a shaky hand and takes a deep drag.

You let out a slow breath, slumping back against the couch.

He didn't leave.

Sukuna turns his head slowly to look at you over his broad shoulder. Suddenly, his eyes widen, and he bangs the door shut and quickly strides back to the small living area, bending down to hastily stub his cigarette out in the ashtray on the couch table.

"Shit, I forgot that I shouldn't smoke when you are...," he stops mid-sentence, and his eyes wander to your belly, "when you are... ah fuck..."

Sukuna runs a trembling, tattooed hand through his pink hair. You both stare at each other for a long moment, both unable to say the words out loud. But your mind screams them at you:

Pregnant. You are pregnant with Sukuna's baby!

You have no idea how it even happened. Were Sukuna and you not careful enough? Maybe too horny and too drunk after one of the various parties you went to? Did a condom rip, and you didn't realize it? Maybe if it was any other month, things would have gone differently, but you had exams and were in a constant state of stress. You simply didn't have the mind to worry about anything else but studying and then fucking like bunnies for stress relief!

You feel so stupid. You were always so sure that something like this would never happen to you. An accidental pregnancy was something that only happened to those girls in those trashy reality TV shows!

Well, now look at you.

Pregnant from your college sweetheart, the bad boy with the face tattoos. The guy you are head over heels in love with but who you didn't even dare bring home to your parents yet because they took one look at a picture of the two of you, saw Sukuna's tattooed face and his pink hair, and deemed him a troublemaker who will only drag their sweet daughter into the gutter with him. And now he even managed to accidentally knock you up, and it will just be the cherry on top!

Finally, the tears spill over, and a sob escapes your trembling lips. Instinctively, you hug yourself, but your arms get pushed away just a second later, when Sukuna is pulling you to your feet and into his strong, tattooed arms, pulling you against him, holding you so tight you find it hard to breathe.

His lips press against your forehead, leaving little kisses and murmuring against your skin,

"I am sorry for almost running out that door like a fucking coward. I'm sorry, baby."

"It's ok, Kuna. You stopped and came back. That's what counts. But... I... I am so scared."

You sniffle and press yourself against Sukuna's tall, muscular body, seeking the comfort of his broad chest and his strong arms, which feel like home, letting your tears soak Sukuna's t-shirt that smells like him, like cigarette smoke and cherry blossoms and his typical sexy cologne.

Sukuna's arms tighten around you, and he makes a choked-up sound that you have never heard from him before. You feel him gulp hard, and then he speaks up in that low, velvety voice that sounds so much more serious than ever before,

"I promise I won't run. We're in this together. I got scared, too, because I am not the dad type of guy. I don't even have any idea how a dad is supposed to be because I've never had one. I mean, fuck! I am a mess! I don't even know what I want apart from living in the moment, having fun, being with you, and spending time with my brother. But you're my girl, and I'll be damned if I leave you alone with this! I won't run, princess, I promise."

You hear a strange noise, only to realize that it is coming from your own mouth, a strangled sob. You snuggle closer against Sukuna's chest, hiding your face in his t-shirt, clinging desperately to him, overwhelmed with the situation. But he is there for you. He rests his chin on top of your head and holds you, swaying you slightly from side to side.

His low voice is calm when he asks,

"Do you want to keep it?"

"I... I didn't even have the right mind to think about it yet."

Sukuna nods, and his arms tighten around you,

"It's ok. Take your time. If you want to get rid of it, then I will drive you to the hospital and take care of you afterward. And if you decide to have the baby... then I will be a dad. I never imagined myself with a kid, but this is different. This is our baby. And I know what it's like to grow up without parents. I don't want that for my child. My grandpa did a pretty good job with Yuuji and me before he became sick, but it's not the same as having a mom and a dad, I think. I won't let that happen to our kid."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a huge weight leave your shoulders at Sukuna's reassurance. You can see things a bit clearer now. And maybe it's not as hopeless as you thought.

Technically, you are old enough to be a mom, and you could just pause your studies for a semester or two and then return to your classes. Of course, things won't be as carefree anymore, and you will have a huge responsibility. On top of that, you really have no idea what life with a baby will be like. But you know now that you won't be alone with it.

You will have the boy you love by your side. No, you correct yourself, not the boy you love, but the man you love. Because the way Sukuna reacted so maturely and responsibly showed you that he isn't a boy anymore. He is a man. Your man. And you are even beginning to be able to imagine him as a dad. He is doing a pretty decent job as Yuuji's brother, too, after all, isn't he? Sure, Yuuji is the same age as Sukuna, but Sukuna still always acts like the big brother. So protective and caring, in a grumpy way, but sweet nonetheless.

Suddenly, the thought of a miniature version of Sukuna running around doesn't seem so scary anymore. You catch yourself wondering what your baby would look like if you decide to have it. Will it have Sukuna's eyes?

You lift your head to look up at him, and Sukuna's gaze meets yours. He looks deeply into your eyes, almost making you nervous with how intense those beautiful maroon eyes look at you,

"If you want to keep it, I will make damn sure you and the kid have it good. I promise you, princess. I am not going to run like some loser. I will learn everything about taking care of a child and how to be a dad and get my shit together. I will even stop smoking. I just... I love you, and this will be our little family, and I will fucking protect it with my life! We will make this work. We can move in together. We can ask Yuuji to babysit, and I can take the little gremlin to classes with me. I had someone do that in my history class, you know? Had his ugly little brat in a baby carrier. I could do that, too. Only difference is that our baby will be super pretty, of course."

You chuckle softly despite the shock, a mix of a sob and a laugh, feeling lighter now that you know your boyfriend will be there for you.

"I love you too, Sukuna. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. We will get through this together, no matter what you decide."

You snuggle against Sukuna's tall, muscular body and smile shakily up at him, sure that your pupils must have transformed into little hearts from the way your chest feels as if it's overflowing with love for your boyfriend. Your arrogant, rude, bad boy of a boyfriend, who, deep down, is such a good guy for the people he loves.

You smile and get on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Sukuna's tattooed jaw, a tender lingering touch, before you tell him softly,

"Let's sleep over it for a night or two, and then we'll decide what to do. But either way, I want you to know that you sound like you would be an amazing dad. I guess having your baby would be quite nice."

You can see Sukuna's gaze soften, and then he smirks that attractive smirk at you and pulls you even closer against him, leaning down so his lips brush over yours when he says,

"Let's see if you will still say that when the little brat turns out to be anything like me. I wasn't an easy child."

And you laugh and reach up to ruffle Sukuna's pink hair affectionately, tangling your fingers in the soft, pink strands,

"Well, how lucky that I have you by my side to look after Sukuna Number 2 then."

You feel Sukuna grin against your lips, and then he kisses you, slow and tender, and you practically melt against him.

You are still nervous but not as scared anymore. Sukuna is right: You are going to do this together. No matter what, you have Sukuna by your side. And, even though he doesn't look like it, your bad boy is actually a good man.

And maybe your decision is already made because the mental image of Sukuna going to class with a baby carrier strapped to his broad chest just won't leave your mind anymore.

SIGHHHHHH I think I would want his baby 😭

Thank you so much for reading! I love the mess that CollegeBoy!Sukuna is. He is very dear to me 💗 I am so proud of him for being so mature about this!! A good man and a good soon-to-be daddy.

In my head, I was singing "Papa, don't preach" the whole time while writing this ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

Update: Part 2 Option A (Reader has an abortion) Part 2 Option B (Reader decides to have the baby)