#damn their stupid algorithm

[alicepao13]

me: Pinterest stop thinking that Glen Powell is John Reardon and stop recommending me images of the wrong white guy.

my mom seeing John Reardon gifs: Is that Antonio Banderas?

me: ...As you were, Pinterest.

[truecorvid]

lord please forgive me i am getting into fights in tiktoks comments again

[radioconstructed]

⌖ I hope the traps are good!

[valtarri]

One of the main reasons that I hate twitter, rw shit aside, is how everyone seems, at all times, to be arguing past each other? What is anyone talking about, are we all pretending we're on the same page? Am I stupid or are you all pretending to understand wtf is going on? Everyone seems to be just throwing around smart sounding words with utter confidence, and I'm not even sure they even understand what they're saying. It's like twitter has specifically crafted this kind of tonedeaf twitterspeak that makes bots sound more human in comparison.

[mooningningg]

notes, yall are MESSYYYY

★ Roommate!Sukuna when a girl shows up on his TikTok feed.

It was supposed to be a chill night.

Blanket. Snacks. Background noise from some random Netflix docu-series you weren’t even watching. Sukuna was on the other end of the couch, hoodie on, phone in hand — scrolling, as always.

You only noticed because he’d gone suspiciously still.

Silent, except for the faint sound of a TikTok audio — some sultry remix of a song you’d heard way too many times.

And then? The tiniest grunt of approval under his breath.

You glanced sideways.

“What are you watching?”

“Nothin’,” Sukuna muttered, eyes still glued to his phone. Too fast. Too casual.

“…Sukuna.”

He smirked, thumb still scrolling. “Chill out. Just a TikTok.”

You leaned over, suspicious.

He angled the screen away by a centimeter — just enough to tell you everything.

There she was. Some very hot girl dancing in gym shorts and confidence. Not doing anything wrong. But you? You felt a flicker of something stupid and ugly rise in your chest.

Still, you weren’t about to let him have the satisfaction.

“Oh wow,” you said flatly. “You watch one video with a pretty girl and suddenly you're acting like she sent it to you personally.”

“She’s got rhythm,” he said, grinning. “Nice editing too.”

“She’s got high engagement, congrats to her,” you replied, arms crossed. “Meanwhile, your ‘For You’ page says more about your emotional needs than your search history ever could.”

He raised a brow. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means ‘For You’ really meant for your lonely ass at 2AM,” you said, tossing popcorn into your mouth. “Your algorithm is crying for help.”

Sukuna laughed — a full, throaty sound that shook the couch. “You’re jealous.”

“Of your attention span? Not a chance.”

He turned his phone around dramatically. “Alright, go ahead. Roast my feed. Here—oh, look! Another one. Damn, she’s flexible.”

“She’s gonna block you for breathing too loud through the screen.”

He snorted. “Relax. I didn’t even like the video.”

“That’s the bare minimum, king.”

He looked at you, smug. “So what I’m hearing is… you’re mad no one thirst-traps for you.”

You gave him a slow, patronizing smile. “Oh no, baby. People thirst-trap at me. I just have standards.”

“Which explains why you’re single.”

“Bold talk for a man who once accidentally liked a 2019 bikini pic and blamed it on a ‘glitch.’”

Sukuna scoffed. “That was a glitch.”

“You zoomed in.”

He grinned. “Research.”

“You’re a menace.”

“You’re hot when you’re mean.”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at his head. He caught it easily, laughing again as he leaned back into the couch like he didn’t just spend three minutes getting verbally dragged.

And still — despite the jokes, the petty insults, the girl on his feed — he wasn’t scrolling anymore.

He was looking at you.

You didn’t say anything.

He didn’t either.

But his hand brushed your ankle under the blanket.

And you let it.

Taglist, @humeysaga @williamafton26 @aranisbaee @probablynotleahhhh @probablynotleahhhh.

[llatimeria]

I feel so resolved right now bc I've been getting a little frustrated with the Instagram reels I've been seeing that's mostly het women complaining about how their husbands don't share the mental load of housework - which is absolutely justified, ofc. everyone needs to partake in taking care of the home as close to equally as is reasonable.

the thing is this mostly takes the form of people making fun of how their husbands say things like "Yeah sure I'll share the load :) Just make me a list!:) just tell me what to do! :)" when that's kind of defeating the purpose -- if your partner's making lists of chores for you, you're still basically offloading a ton of mental effort onto them, which doesn't actually help the problem.

however I know from experience that I am that husband lol. and I'm sure a lot of these men are just kind of inconsiderate, but from my perspective as a disabled neurodivergent person, I reflexively try to offload things like Making Lists or Asking To Be Told What To Do onto my (overstressed, often panicking) partner because I'm scared that if I make decisions about what I need to do, I'll focus on something my partner didn't even have on their radar and waste all my energy "fixing" something which they didn't consider broken, leaving me with nothing to help solve the problems they actually care about.

I'm not trying to be a dick or deliberately being lazy, I just need to know what's bothering them the most so I can start there instead of starting on a random side quest that doesn't matter to either of us. considering how many of these people I've run into are in nd4nd relationships, I'm pretty sure I can't be the only "inconsiderate husband" out there who's having this feeling, and it's a little frustrating to see it being completely attributed to a moral failing and not, like, a possible symptom of their partner's own mental health issues. (like we definitely can't pretend like misogyny never plays a part in the Just Make Me A List type of behavior, but I know relatively certainly that is not where it's originating from in my own personal relationship, and I'm not that unique)

just when I was about to just make a kind of grumpy post about this problem and offer absolutely no solutions, I fuckin run into a reel where someone actually tells people how to bridge the gap between offloading mental effort and actually knowing what your partner wants you to do- literally just. offer a couple of observations to them instead of hoping they'll do everything for you. ie - instead of "just tell me what to do!!", say "I see the dishes have to be done and the trash has to be taken out, so I was gonna do the dishes then take out the trash, unless there was something else that needs my focus first". this tells your partner that you are taking on some of the mental burden, but still offers them the opportunity to point you in the right direction if you're WAY off.

it just makes so much fucking sense and I never would've thought of doing that on my own. genuinely an extremely useful video to just algorithmically be provided to me. it's actionable advice instead of just telling people "share the loaaaddd" without providing the scaffolding someone needs to do that when theyre unused to it (whether that be due to neurodivergency or growing up as a guy in a misogynistic society).

and its just like. God damn it. this is bullshit. I can't believe the stupid camera app is helping me in real ways. maybe the mental health gurus and internet therapists have a goddamn point sometimes. fucking hell

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

141 x reader reacting to incel/redpill content?

Poison in the Algorithm

Pairing: Poly!141 x Reader

Warnings: Misogyny/redpill content (as a narrative device), emotional distress, swearing, comfort, light suggestive references, mentions of toxic internet culture, soft polyamory, fluff, hurt/comfort, domestic dynamics, protective!141

Author's Note: This one-shot explores the impact of redpill/incel rhetoric when it bleeds into everyday life—and how love, trust, and shared warmth push it back out. Featuring your favorite grumpy-soft boys being protective, supportive, and just a little bit petty.

Summary: A spiral of doomscrolling lands you in the middle of a redpill echo chamber. Your boys aren’t having any of it—not with you, not in this house.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The video’s thumbnail was obnoxious. Red text. Squinting man in wraparound sunglasses. Buzzwords like ���WOMEN OVER 25” and “HIT THE WALL” punched across the screen like it was selling a political thriller. You pressed play.

Ten minutes later, your stomach hurt.

You didn’t even realize Johnny was home until he was suddenly standing behind you, towel still looped around his neck, a scowl etched into his face.

“What the fuck is that?” His accent sliced through the audio before you even registered he was there.

You startled, flipping your phone over. ”Just—something that popped up. I was curious.”

“Curious?” Johnny snatched the phone like it personally offended him. “Jesus, babe. This is Andrew Tate’s discount cousin.”

You laughed, thin and nervous. “I didn’t think it’d mess with me this much. I just wanted to see what people are watching.”

Johnny scrolled. “They’re not watching. They’re inhaling this shit like it’s gospel.” His voice was sharp, but his eyes were worried. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The content was stupid, you knew that—but somewhere between the charts, the smugness, and the cold detachment with which women were dissected like faulty products, something inside you cracked.

And Johnny saw it.

“Hey,” he said, voice softening. “Don't you dare believe a fuckin’ word of it.”

From the hallway, Kyle’s voice carried in. “What’s going on?”

“She’s watching incel videos,” Johnny called.

Kyle appeared in seconds, dishrag in one hand, brows raised. “Oh, hell no.”

You gave a weak smile. “It’s not like I agree—“

“Doesn’t matter,” Kyle cut in, eyes kind but firm. “That shit gets in your head. You let enough of it in, it’ll start whispering lies in your own voice.”

You tried to brush it off. “I just wanted to understand it.”

John’s heavy footsteps hit the hardwood floor before you heard him speak. “You don’t need to understand it, sweetheart. You just need to stay away from it.”

He walked in wearing an old army tee, sleeves tight on his forearms, mug in hand. He looked like he’d seen this before—like he’d dealt with more than a few young soldiers who came back from leave parroting the same poison.

“They want you to question yourself,” he said, sitting beside you. “That’s the whole point. Convince you you’re not enough so they can sell you the illusion of control.”

You stared at the muted video still playing on your phone. “But what if I am too much? Too opinionated, too independent, too—“

“You’re ours,” Simon interrupted.

He was leaning against the doorway, black hoodie, hood up, mask half pulled down. His voice was dead calm. Dangerous.

“If you ever repeat that shit about yourself again, I’ll break every one of their microphones and necks.”

You blinked at him.

“They want you insecure because insecure people are easier to manipulate, he said. But you? You’ve got four highly trained men wrapped around your little finger. And not one of us would change a damn thing.”

John leaned over and kissed your temple. “Exactly.”

Kyle knelt in front of you, hand on your knee. “You’re not ‘high-value’ like some commodity. You’re just you. Funny. Fiery. Gentle. Smart. Real.”

Johnny nudged your shoulder with his own. ”Also ridiculously hot. Don’t forget that part.”

That got a chuckle out of you.

Simon crossed the room and sat on the arm of the couch beside you. “Tell me something, he said quietly. Do you think I’d share a bed, a life, with someone who didn’t make me feel safe?”

You shook your head.

“Exactly,” he whispered. “You’re the only soft thing I’ve got left. And I’m not giving that up for anyone’s idea of what’s ‘marketable.’”

Kyle grinned. “Besides. If you were some ‘obedient tradwife’ type, Johnny would spontaneously combust.”

“I would,” Johnny said. “I’d set the fuckin’ kitchen on fire out of spite.”

“I’d help,” Kyle added.

“And I’d be recording,” John muttered.

You were laughing now, tucked between them all like you’d never left. Warm. Safe.

Johnny looked at your phone again. “You want me to throw this against a wall?”

Simon held out his hand. “Give it here. I’ll queue up some actual content—cat videos, maybe. Slow cooking. Paint mixing.”

“You’re such a softie,” Johnny teased.

“No. I’m just anti-bullshit.”

John’s arm slid around your shoulders. “You know what I think?” he murmured. “Let them sit behind their cameras preaching loneliness. Meanwhile, you’ve got four men who’d die for you—and live for you, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Kyle leaned up and kissed your cheek. “You’re so much more than they’ll ever deserve.”

You let the phone slide off the couch and buried your face in Johnny’s chest. The video kept playing, muffled by cushions. But it didn’t matter.

Because you couldn’t hear it anymore.

Only the heartbeat of the men who loved you—four anchors holding you above the noise.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[obscurevideogames]

Tumblr’s Core Prodct Stratgy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on trying to keep our sinking ship afloat for as long as possible. This means desperately trying to copy every new fly-by-night social media app that some multi-billionaire sh*t out during their daily Peloton routine. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. If you find the things we say here worrisome, please understand that is our exact intention. You've outgrown our target demographic. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

The Diagnosis

It's lookin' pretty bad y'all!

After somehow losing hundreds of thousands of users during the great pr0n purge of 2018, we started to wonder if anything could be done to get back to where we were. We even brought in a management consultant who charged us a ridiculous amount of money. It would make you sick if you knew how much, but we got a few nice meals out of it at least. Anyhow, we handed this guy the app, and HE HAD NO IDEA HOW TO USE IT! It was f*cking hilarious! But suddenly it all clicked -- our users are a bunch of stupid idiots who can't even do basic arithmetic. I mean, they spend all day looking at their phones, so what do you expect?

Tumblr’s best feature is its unique content and vibrant communities. But who cares, right? We're just as happy getting traffic from people sh*t-posting memes, vague-booking, giving out-of-context hot takes to news events, and spewing whatever random thought is in their head at the moment. Plus that stuff doesn't p*ss off Apple.

To keep this thing going we need new people. And by "people" we mean teenagers, like we used to have back in the good ol' days. Unfortunately we're all in our 40s now, so we have no idea what they want. But teenagers are so cool! Imagine if they talked to us like we're one of them? We're getting hard just thinking about it.

Our Guidng Principls

To make Tumblr cool again, we must address these huge glaring issues.

People can look at a blog without logging in. How is that fair to all the poor schlubs who had to fill out forms to get an account? Also we haven't figured out a way to force ads onto the personalized pages yet. But we swear that's not the main reason.

People can see content they are looking for or linked to. People can keep up with blogs they follow. But the problem with this is, people don't know what they want. We know what they want! We're smart. We wrote this damn site, remember?

Promote posts that incite pointless conversations. Posts that are guaranteed to bait every troll into responding. Isn't that why all your Magat relatives love Facebook so much? We can do that!

P*ss off your content creators in every way possible (see #2).

Create algorithms that throw an unending barrage of irrelevant content in your face. Have you seen Instagram lately? We could do that so easy!!!

The app is slow. The website is slow. Obviously this is because of GIFs. Facebook and Instagram don't allow them, so why should we?

Conclusion

Our mission changes on a day-to-day basis. Right now we're super jealous of all the attention that new Threads thing is getting. We're still not sure what it is, but we're gonna download it after work.

[therealcocoshady]

I also had an idea kind of similar to the arranged marriage plot maybe someone sets them up on a blind date… he keeps saying no but the person playing Cupid is very persistent and he ends up feeling obligated to go (idk, just a thought)

Oh, I actually had an thought about something similar to this, a while ago - please don’t mind me, I literally wrote this thing in less than 30 minutes and didn’t proofread. I just wrote it so that you’d get the idea.

After years of frustration with women and trust issues, Marshall has made peace with the fact that he’s going to end up alone. Even his friends have stopped trying to set him up on dates. Sure, they’d like to see him thrive in a relationship, and they can see how lonely he is, sometimes, but they also know he’s complicated. So they leave him alone on the topic. So he dedicates to his work and his role as a father.

And ironically enough, his girls are the only people that could get him to go out of his comfort zone. One of them is still in college, studying psychology. She has to do an assignment for one of her classes and she is searching for volunteers for an experiment on dating and relationships. The design is pretty simple : people sign up, fill some forms and answer questions. Then, an algorithm pairs them up for maximum compatibility and they have to go on a date, during which they will have to answer the famous 36 questions designed to make them fall in love. His daughter is a bit behind on work and she has to find one more volunteer. She doesn’t even believe in this whole thing, she just wants to pass the class. So she begs Marshall, who refuses at first. Because A) he doesn’t date and B) even if he did, he wouldn’t take part in an experiment, much less one involving his daughter in his romantic life. But she’s really desperate and she assures him that the whole thing is anonymous and clinical. « Please, Dad, it’ll take twenty minutes of your time. And who knows if they’ll even pair you with anyone for the date. I just need to pass the class and graduate. You’re the one who always insisted on me getting higher education ! ». Of course, he caves in. Because he did sacrifice a lot for his babies to go to college, and he’ll be damned if his daughter fails the class because of him. Plus, the people in charge of the experiment will probably see his answers and figure he’s a lost cause. Even science wouldn’t find a good match for him, right ?

Except that it does. Weeks later, he receives an email, informing him that he’s been selected for the second step of the experiment and that they’ve found him a match with 95% compatibility. At first, he figures he won’t go. With his luck, they paired him with another fifty-something man who’s just as lonely. No way this could be a woman. Not with the stoic and sarcastic answers he typed in the form. The email doesn’t even specify who they paired him with. They just ask if he’d be available for a date in two weeks time. Basically, it’s having coffee with the other person, answering the 36 questions unrecorded and then filling another form to describe the experience and say if yes or no they feel attracted to the other person and would consider actually dating them. He figures that, even though it’s anonymous, his daughter’s team wouldn’t have the data if he bails and he’ll be damned if his precious daughter doesn’t get her degree because of him. Of course he’ll bite the bullet and go on that stupid coffee date. Even if he’s paired with a 53 year-old name George.

But as it turns out, his date is not 53 year-old George. It’s you. You and your charming smile. You who agreed to take part in the whole thing because your little sister, his daughter’s teammate, begged you at the last minute. God, these college students need to learn how to do things in time and not to involve their family in their cringy psych classes experiment. You don’t even want to do this whole thing but when a charming man shows up, you can’t help but smile and introduce yourself, extending a polite handshake to greet him. He doesn’t seem too at ease in that little café, which you find odd because it’s actually quite lovely. Also, you swear you’ve seen him somewhere, but it’s Detroit and he’s a brown-haired, bearded, middle-aged man in jeans and a hoodie. Pretty generic. You’re not exactly surprised to have been paired up with someone older than you. You’ve always been told you’re an old soul, so of course « science » (or whatever software they used to compile data) would figure out that your perfect match is almost twenty years older. Anyway, you’re not really here for a date. You’re here for your sister to finally graduate. And you’re not one to refuse free Chai latte.

So the two of you exchange a few pleasantries, introduce yourselves and get to these 36 questions. You tell each other who you could have dinner with if you could choose anyone in the world, whether or not you have a secret hunch about how you will die… as it turns out, the thing is cleverly designed. The questions are increasingly personal and both of you end up sharing personal details, things you most definitely wouldn’t think of sharing with a stranger you were more or less randomly paired up with. By the time you reach the last question, you are looking into each other’s eyes, giving your undivided attention, leaning in. When you arrived, you were strangers but by the end of the date, you feel like you really know each other. More than some people you’ve known your whole life. And by the time it ends, you’ve had the time to notice how charming the wrinkles around eyes are, and you don’t find it too unsettling that he blinks a bit faster than most people you know. As for him, he hasn’t failed to notice that little birthmark near your eye, and the way your mouth twitches when you’re trying to think of the adequate word to answer one of the questions. You don’t know each other’s favorite color or the name of your first pet, but both know when the other last cried in front of someone else and by themselves and why. 36 questions and a cup of coffee later, and you’re not really strangers. You actually had a pleasant time. Too bad you reached the end of the questionnaire and it’s time to go. Too bad he doesn’t offer to take your number and call you. Too bad you’re too demure to ask for his. You wouldn’t have minded actually going out with him. Maybe even discuss that movie he mentioned in passing and thinks you’d like.

The two of you share a hug goodbye and agree that it was fun. You wish him well for his daughter’s wedding he told you he’s busy planning and he wishes you luck for that job interview you said you were nervous about. When you go home and it’s time to answer that final set of questions, saying how you feel about the experiment, you actually give the whole thing a solid 8/10. And when you’re asked if you’d actually date the person you met for coffee, you tick « yes » faster than you’ve ticked any box. You do the same when it asks you if you’d consent to the other person being given your contact info.

Weeks later, Marshall is ecstatic when his daughter tells him she got a good grade for that psych class and that she’ll be graduating with honors. He’s proud as can be. She thanks him profusely for helping her. « I know it’s a stupid thing. But hey, there are a few people who reported they had a good time. Who knows ? Maybe I helped someone find love. ». She has absolutely no idea that he is one of the people who asked for the other person’s contact info as soon as they were given the possibility. She doesn’t know he’s been on four more dates with you. People have been so used to him being single that it didn’t even cross his daughter’s mind. Not even when he mentioned he missed the last Lions’ game, which never happens. But she definitely gets a hunch when he attends her graduation ceremony and sees him smile to that beautiful lady who’s attending her graduation ceremony and came to greet him. « Oh, that’s my sister speaking with your dad ! », her friend says. « I convinced her to do the experiment and she told me she met someone charming. Can you believe it ?! ».

[whorbidmore]

okay, so, I've fallen victim to the leon kennedy brainrot steadily overtaking me, following me from Tumblr to Pinterest, to Instagram and even the absolutely fucking dreaded application of TikTok. I don't even use it that often??? and the algorithm is just like 'wow, yeah, this little fuckers gay as hell send in the 40 year old meow meow!!' and having watched Death Island fairly recently, I'm gonna have my opinions on what this dude would be like. Cus my brain loves to rationalize shit and think ab 'what if this mf was someone real?' so... fuck it.

Leon Soft Kennedy Headcanons

SFW

accidentally bigoted. - im sorry but let's be so fucking real here. he's a 40 something year old man who spent the majority of his life in either the military, a police training academy in the 90's, or otherwise working under the U.S Federal System with minimal/no time between missions to unpack absolutely everything he's got going on... the guys gonna have some problematic tendencies. Obviously that doesn't mean he means any of that or is incapable of change, etc. etc., but I know for damn certain this dude would laugh a little at Bill Burr's borderline to blatantly misogynistic material and has probably chuckled unironically at the attack helicopter jokes. But, he's not a complete dick, and would definitely become more critical of those kinds of jokes if it's pointed out to him.

honest to God, Dad Without Kids™ - it's not simply enough for me to leave it at 'but it's the vibes!!' so, I'm gonna break this shit down. Leon is absolutely Gen X incarnate. I can fucking guarantee you that on his off days he accidentally ends up dressing as an undercover cop; I'm talking cargo shorts, light blue button up, those fucking standard issue boots cus "they're perfectly good shoes" and those stupid ass sunglasses... you know the ones I'm talking about. Let's say you're living with him, right? And you're... you, and you wanna watch something on TV. This dude would strain himself getting up like a turtle fallen backwards on its shell, stand up, walk right in front of the TV screen and stand there with his hands on his hips. It doesn't matter that he had to piss, he needs to get a better look of what's happening! Does those really loud, obnoxious coughs and sneezes, absolutely blows his back out doing one at least five times a year.

Only watches British Reality TV - Considering he's canonically a film buff, I'll say that this is purely for whatever he gravitates towards on general streaming services. I honestly don't see him being the type to regularly tune in to standard American cable TV, or only does so under specific circumstances like American Ninja Warrior or maybe Forged in Fire if there's absolutely nothing else. It's not something that's exclusive to Americans, — I'm from New Zealand and I do this too, — but Leon absolutely falls into the category of watching British Reality and Game shows purely because of the accents. I'm talking Jeremy Kyle, The Big Fat Quiz of Everything, Taskmaster, The Great British Bake Off and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter that baking isn't his forté or a passion of his, if Josephine curdles her buttercream by over mixing, his hands are in his hair in utter disappointment. 100% tries to mimic their accents too. We all do it, don't lie.

Has... very dated music tastes - I don't know if you could guess, but the last paragraph included me calling myself out and name dropping some shows I watch anyway or grew up watching, and I'm just saying that this is gonna be no different. If anything? This'll be worse! Since I'm very passionate about the music I listen to and have the inability to keep my interests separated from the other, of course my love of particular bands will bleed over into my interpretation of Leon's character! Anyway, all that for me to say that Leon fucking LOVES 90's grunge musicians, specifically Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, as well as early nu metal bands like Korn (their dubstep phase did not happen.), TOOL, and Rage Against the Machine — and no, he unfortunately doesn't see the irony of him being a fed and listening to Rage, — but would also have a soft spot for psych rock, post-punk and shoegaze. My man's definitely laid awake at night, sobbing without expression as he struggles to accept that Ada never really wanted him like he wanted her while listening to fucking Slowdive. My hottest take here is that he doesn't really listen to Deftones. Like he'll occasionally blast My Own Summer, Change, Bored or Rosemary, but anything outside of those? He just didn't listen to 'em. My second hottest take is that he does NOT like Slipknot, which kind of pains me 'cus I do, but I fucking bet you this dude would actually adopt one piece of "Gen Z lingo" or whatever just call them cringe. Though admittedly he would've been jamming the fuck out to Psychosocial and The Devil in I when they came out. Went off the deep end in Vendetta, obviously, and drunk-cried himself to sleep on the couch listening to Linkin Park.

Very confusing spending habits - On one hand, we all understand that Leon came from money, — he was implied to have been born into a mob family from my understanding? And I doubt he'd ever really had to worry about being fully, irrevocably broke, — but I'm sure that growing up in the U.S Foster Care System made him at least a little more cautious of where his money comes from, where it's going, what he's spending it on, etc. So, on the one hand, he's apprehensive to spend recklessly, particularly on perishables. But also, if he can drop over $100,000USD on a motorcycle that got absolutely fucking cheese grated into the road, and spend a perceived, metric fuck ton of money on designer leather jackets and massive watches, it's gonna be hard for me to call him 'financially conscious'. On one hand, he gets apprehensive on spending more money than he needs to on food since he's "just gonna shit it out later", but if he sees a cool watch or a nice suit in a shop window? Money's suddenly not an issue! Not because he's materialistic, but because the one thing he really maintains a sense of control over in his life are his possessions and the way he dresses. The D.S.O can call him in for another months long mission whenever they please, and all he can realistically do is allow the government to tug on his leash and put him where he's needed. He may as well spend their money on things he wants!

Gets out... enough? But also, not really? - So, personally I've pegged Leon as more of an introverted person, — amateurly typed his MBTI as possibly ISFJ? — so he doesn't really feel the need to go out and meet new people or really hang out with anyone. If somebody invites him out? Sure, he'll go. Otherwise, it rarely occurs to him to meet up with friends or colleagues at a cafe or anywhere. I think he'd prefer to just go there alone, mostly for the sake of having somebody else cook for him as opposed to actively seeking out the atmosphere. It's pure convience in his mind. And remember when I said in the beginning about him accidentally being at least a little misogynistic? Yeah, that was me trying to say that he regularly tries to hit on younger waitresses. Not because he actually wants anything to do with them, but simply because it's an ego boost. He likes that he can make girls half his age blush or offer him their numbers, because it tells him that he's still desirable, and ultimately, that gives him the power to reject them politely and go about the rest of his day. If they don't reject him first, of course. Admittedly, Leon's audacity towards women peaked during Infinite Darkness.

Since I'm planning on posting more NSFW headcanons for this guy, — and more NSFW kinds of posts, — here is the obligatory Minors DNI attachment. For your own safety, I don't care if what I have to say is tame so far, you can hold it off I promise.

[fameandfiction]

IMAGINE PART I: “A Tweet, A Spiral & A Girlfriend” — Reneé Rapp x Reader

— Communication Breakdown.

It starts with a tweet.

Just one. “Lesbians being “just friends” after dating NEVER works lmao 😹”

No thread. No context. Just that. Thousand likes. A ridiculous emoji. And enough psychic ammunition to detonate a self-esteem landmine you didn’t even know you’d buried.

At first, you laughed. A dry, slightly wounded sound, more exhale than anything else. You weren’t even searching for it — it just appeared, like some twisted digital omen. Probably the algorithm catching onto your recent paranoia.

Your thumb hovers over the screen.

You try to be rational.

It’s just a joke. A throwaway tweet.

But your brain... your very gay, anxious, social-media-poisoned brain didn’t get the memo.

So you start searching. Clicking. Digging.

Reddit. Tumblr. Medium articles. Autostraddle deep dives. Quora threads from 2013.

Search: “Can you stay friends with your ex lesbian?” Search: “Lesbian breakup staying close statistics” Search: “Gay women being delusional post breakup” Search: “Reneé Rapp Towa Bird still friends???”

You know it’s unhealthy. You know it’s spiraling.

But the internet isn’t built for peace, it’s built for confirmation bias.

And every post, every “lol never works,” every dramatic horror story from a girl named Sabrina Brier in NYC somehow carves itself into your chest like truth.

And by the time Reneé walks into the room — hoodie sleeves shoved up, voice soft from brushing her teeth — you’re sitting in the dark, curled on the floor next to the couch, scrolling furiously with a look on your face like you’ve just uncovered your own obituary.

“Babe?” she asks cautiously.

You flinch. Turn the phone over. Too fast.

She pauses.

“…What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Your voice is tight. You sound guilty, even to yourself.

She squints. “You look like you’re about to commit a federal crime.”

You say nothing. Just press your lips together.

And she knows. She knows that look. She's seen you spiral before. Quietly. Intellectually. Hiding behind logic, articles, facts. Your fear never arrives crying — it shows up dressed in citations.

“…Did someone say something?” she asks.

And you crack.

“I read a tweet.”

Her eyebrows arch like seriously? but she doesn’t interrupt. She waits.

You inhale shakily, words tumbling out before you can filter them:

“About how lesbians staying friends after a breakup never works and it made me think about how you’re still like—friendly with Victoria Ilagan Rosa Vergara-Bird and suddenly I couldn’t stop thinking about how maybe I’m just the rebound placeholder emotional support girlfriend while you two have this epic unresolved artist romance arc and you’re gonna ‘evolve’ back to her once you finish healing from whatever that breakup was because you and her are still, like, weirdly close and it’s not bad I just—maybe I’m not enough of a… a formative person to leave that kind of mark on someone and—”

You stop.

Because Reneé is just staring at you. Mouth open. Eyebrows raised. Not laughing, not mad, just stunned.

“…You really just used her full government name.”

You cross your arms. “That’s her name, isn’t it?”

“Damn it, babe! She’s not a senator.”

You feel heat rise in your face — partly from embarrassment, partly because that rage-flavored jealousy is still bubbling. "You think this is funny?"

“No. No, I don’t,” she says quickly, coming closer. “I just… I’m trying not to laugh because I’m nervous, not because I think it’s stupid.”

You look away. “I knew it sounded stupid the minute it came out.”

“Okay, first of all, don’t talk about my girlfriend like she’s some insecure idiot who believes internet memes over lived experience,” Reneé says, kneeling in front of you. “Second — and I mean this from the bottom of my gay, dramatic heart — that girl is not in my future. She was in a chapter. You’re the plot.”

You blink.

“…That’s cheesy as hell.”

“It is. And also true.”

You don’t respond. Your body has gone stiff, that kind of emotional lock-up that happens when you want to accept affection but feel too fragile to absorb it.

She notices. Leans in, voice soft.

“Hey.”

You look at her.

“I know I still talk to her sometimes. That doesn’t mean I want her back. We broke up for a reason. It wasn’t some mystical girl-poet separation, it was hard and it was right. And being polite isn’t the same as being entangled... but you’re right, I should have blocked her when we broke up, otherwise I don’t live up to the words I said in that interview.”

You glance down. “You never really talked about it.”

“I didn’t want to dump my trauma on you.”

You scoff. “Reneé. I’ve seen your finsta captions. You always dump your trauma.”

That gets a half-smile out of her.

She leans her forehead against yours. “You’re right. I do. So let me say this clearly: You’re not my rebound. You’re my reset. My choice. Every day.”

You finally let your shoulders drop.

Just slightly.

“…You forgot to kiss me when you walked in.”

“Shit. You’re right.”

She kisses you. Slowly. Intentionally. No hurry, no performance.

You press into it — gently at first, then with more hunger than expected.

It’s not about proving something. It’s not about Towa.

It’s about you. Feeling chosen. Real. Enough.

And when the kiss breaks, Reneé tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and murmurs:

“If you ever spiral that hard again, just talk to me first.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“And no more full government names in arguments. That was terrifying.”

“…Okay.”

“And don’t google ‘lesbian post-breakup success rate.’ That’s not real science.”

“…Okay.”

A beat.

Then you smirk. “So... Reneé Mary Jane Rapp, huh?”

“Oh my God.”

She tackles you backward, both of you dissolving into messy, relieved laughter.

[lightning-wyvern]

~ spice pop

toge inumaki x male reader | fluff, slightlysuggestive, jjk x mha crossover content fire/fireball, ice, cursing (cuss words AND inumaki), fighting, physical contact, displays of physical affection, "caviar" (fuck but inumaki says it), a kiss at the end, intense gojo slander and reader plot armor notes this is for a request an anon sent me a while ago :') the plot armor is because i hate gojo get out if you dont like it. im also lowkey bad at writing non-angsty teasing scenes?? tf?? wc 1,122 please reblog fanfictions when you read one you like! likes do not help writers' algorithms!

inumaki yawned, sitting down next to megumi with a small box of cream collon in his hand. he smiled, watching you squaring off with yuji.

"i just realized he's gonna kick yuji's ass." megumi said, resting his elbows on his knees and putting his chin in his hands.

"yeah, i heard m/n's been getting better with his ice attacks." inumaki agreed, grinning as you threw a giant ice ball at yuji--right on time.

"his fireballs have been getting bigger too, i took the brunt of one the other night," nobara added in, plopping down next to megumi.

"what the hell did you do that made m/n throw a ball of fire at you?!" megumi asked, "do i even want to know?"

"nope." she giggled. "but i love to yap. we were out at some random party and i stole his food from him. i used like half a bottle of shampoo that night, there was so much damn ash in my hair."

you rolled to the left, dodging a punch yuji had thrown. you grabbed his wrist and directed your body heat into the palm of your hand, driving your foot into his chest and shoving him off. he slid backward a few feet on a floor of ice you had created, but he was able to keep himself steady.

"that hurt, dude." he pouted, flicking his wrist; he had a little bit of a first degree burn now. oops.

"hey, body heat is less easy to control than the literal air." you defended yourself with a returning pout.

"that makes sense, suuure." yuji rolled his eyes.

"fool." said sukuna simply, "you could have dodged that." yuji groaned, slapping a hand to his cheek to silence his burdensome little intruder.

this fight wasn't over; you had a few minutes left before break time. yuji was distracted, so you used the opportunity to huck a fireball at his feet. of course, yuji being who he was, he didn't see it until it hit the ice an inch away from his toes. it exploded, knocking him backward a bit more than a few feet. he rolled and jumped up, dusting himself off.

"ugh, you win." yuji pouted again.

"that's not how this works, gojo hasn't let us off for a break. i still get to bully you for a bit longer."

yuji groaned.

you grinned, willing the air around you to heat up until the ice on the ground melted and the grass dried.

"break time, kids! go on!" gojo yelled, having appeared out of nowhere less than a foot behind you--as was custom of the little fuck.

"gojo, technically i'm older than you."

"yes, technically. but i'm still the boss of you nonetheless." he grinned.

you kicked him in the stomach, deciding to bully him back. you willed the rocks under his feet to heat up and explode without warning, sending him tumbling backward a good ten feet. he got up anyways because he was a fucking cockroach, dusting himself off.

"go on," he said like a bossy pest, doing stupid little shooing motions with his hands.

"wave those hands at me one more time and i'll bite them off like a dog, sensei. with all due respect." you spat the last four words, turning around and kicking up some pebbles as you followed yuji over to the stairs leading into the yard.

"you really aren't something to be messed with, m/n." nobara said with a grin, she and megumi scooting over so you could sit next to inumaki.

"you're only say're only saying that because i burned your hair into a bob the other night, kugisaki." you said pointedly.

"whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. she got up and turned around to go into the cafeteria, and megumi and yuji followed her, leaving you and inumaki alone on the steps together.

"you really are a great fighter, m/n," inumaki said quietly, smiling. his hand strayed up to the necklace around his neck, his fingers toying with the charm.

"thanks," you replied, "it's not as hard to control the fire anymore. my fireballs are getting bigger and hotter."

you smiled, scooting a little closer to inumaki and letting the silence kind of just take over the moment for a while.

"i saw you watching me earlier, while i was practicing with yuji." you said after a while, "i was kinda curious, why?"

inumaki grinned, blushing and hiding his face in his scarf. you giggled and shoved his shoulder lightly, grinning as your face turned pink as well.

"aww, toge, tell me what's up!" you wrapped your arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. he smiled, scooting into your embrace.

"well, honestly..." he started, "i have a little bit of a crush on you. i haven't said anything mostly because of my cursed speech, 'cus gojo says sometimes i have to give this necklace a break? i'm not entirely sure how it works, but i don't wanna break it and lose my free speech. but i do like you, and honestly it's a little more than a small crush. especially when i'm watching you fight--it makes my feelings do things, it shows how strong you are."

you smiled, choosing to think for a second before responding.

"i like you too," you replied, "i dunno when it started, but i do. i like how quiet you are, even with that necklace. to me it's always shown that you like to use words carefully, even with your cursed speech. i like that."

inumaki smiled softly, scooting closer to you. you let him, and the two of you sat that way for a while, watching the sky dampen from blue to grey as a light snow storm came in.

at some point, your brain made the decision for you before you'd thought of it. your hand moved off inumaki's shoulder and cupped his face, turning his head so he was looking at you.

"toge, i kinda wanna kiss you..." you admitted, your face turning pink in a way that had almost nothing to do with the cold weather.

inumaki's eyes widened and his own cheeks turned rose-colored, but he grinned and gladly took the opportunity. he leaned over and connected his lips with yours. his arm snuck up behind your back and wrapped lightly around your neck, pulling you just a little bit closer. your other hand locked with the one he had around you, and you separated yourself reluctantly to catch a breath. inumaki grinned, hugging you tightly.

"i'm not gonna lie, that took more courage than talking to megumi." he said into your shoulder.

"talking to me takes courage?" interrupted megumi, "why?"

you and inumaki both started laughing, leaning on your knees for support.

© lightning-wyvern.

[twopoppies]

About those people making up theories just to stir something up from the 4 boys, I just wanna say how dumb that sounds. I, unfortunately, came across the livestream on my YouTube feed as I have been binge watching every 1D content I could find to cheer myself up (I guess the algorithm decided that for me). I decided to check it out for a bit to know what the hell they were streaming - which, as it turns out, were all about the arrivals as if it’s a damn red carpet - then I ended up staying a bit more to report insensitive and offensive comments in the live chat (I’ve been doing the same on Twitter but there are tons of bots reposting).

I saw the time when the four arrived, and they literally arrived in convoy within a span of 6 minutes. They’re making up a nonsense hate narrative just because Louis and Zayn ended up entering the church together after Harry did since their vans pulled up a bit closer to each other, and Niall’s the last one to get out with his gf. JUST BECAUSE OF ONE PHOTO THAT DIDN’T SHOW THE OTHER TWO. Like? No one knows what happened before they went there, what happened inside, nor what happened after they left. Seriously, that’s just dumb. They’re making it a thing because it was a very quiet despite the paparazzis out there (thank god the info they spread yesterday was wrong). AS IT SHOULD. Liam deserves a proper send off.

I’m just ranting a bit because I saw a photo of Louis without his sunglasses and it broke my heart even more. I’ve been crying since I woke up and I know a lot of people here feel the same. I wanted to share that thing where they arrived in convoy, literally 4 cars pulling up within 6 minutes, and I feel like they’ve probably even met up before coming to the service. It was likely a choice to arrive and leave separately, though consecutively, so as not to give the media anything else to put in their headlines.

So, I guess what I’m saying is I hope no one overthinks because of those nonsense theories. And I also agree to stay away from social media, especially on Facebook and Twitter, if you don’t wanna see photos. Effin’ bots all over reposting photos.

Thank you, love. I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough day. I’ve tried to stay away from anywhere I might see the photos. But I did see a couple of Louis that really broke my heart.

It’s such a tragedy any way you look at it. So, for people in the fandom to be focused on stupid fan theories, gossip, and trying to make people feel badly about their faves, is just revolting.

[firehazard64]

I don’t like ranting but it’s so bizarre to me how people these days have absolutely no shame to just openly admit to being gooners to a bunch of strangers. We are not your friends keep your mouth shut. Ofc it’s to be expected when getting into new media. But holy shit shut the fuck up. I’m just watching cute fan animations of sprunki and I see a comment talking about how rule 34 artists are taking a field day like what is going on in your head to post that…what does that have to do with anything. This fandom was barely made and everyone’s just talking about those nasty ass images. You’re not funny talking about porn it makes you look stupid. Please get off that side of the internet and do your damn math homework. Yea it’s not for little babies. The YouTube algorithm is also just as shitty for letting small kids see this kind of content and they get latched on to colorful things. This is how little kids get exposed to that stuff. It’s awful. I wish there were more restrictions and content creators who know who their audience is they’re making videos to. I wish there were artists who respect the boundaries of peoples ocs. I also wish the parents would care more for what their child is watching but we all know that the internet is not a place for kids. I wish I didn’t get internet access as a small child. I’m older now and I have younger siblings that I watch over like a hawk because the internet is very traumatizing. I know not all of it is bad but there’s people not giving a shit that kids are in danger it makes me very upset :/

[thephonemenarentreal]

Stupid idea I had while in the shower ((Where all unhinged ideas are born...))

OCs nicknames for their contacts on their phones and last message they sent to each contact. Can do it if you want to! Just doing it for some giggles, featuring other people's OCs as well <3

Some entries feature the OCs of @tabieeee @pughat @lens-guy-art @that-other-dead-person for some fun!

PHONE CONTACTS BELOW THE CUT! (not all my OCs, just a few. The Para one is sad baby corner.)

CIVIC'S PHONE (List of five most recent contacts with last message) SUPERVISOR JAGOFF (Paralipsis) I'm not a romantic soul and all, but think you better apologize for that one, just saying. VENU (Venustas belongs to @pughat ) That's a well made model there! Like how you handled the supports to give it a very stable base before building the more creative design on top. Would love to see a step by step for that one for sure! TREM (Tremolo) I am denying your construction request. Reason? Just no. I ain't got the time to sort out all the damn details of why what you want to build is the stupidest bullshit I've seen in a looooong time. KID (Hubble) If any messages come in from the cameraman headquarters, I am unable to take calls as I am building tunnels for rocket launch exhaust and you'll pass on the reminder to call back to Mr. Biggs. He won't remember to tell me. Then I don't have to answer. OPT (Optical belongs to @tabieeee ) For the last time, I don't WORK at the main base and am NOT hauling ass back to fix the hole in the hangar ceiling. That's what the new chief civil engineer's job. I don't care if this is the tenth time they fixed it. Maybe you should train the titan in home repair projects cuz I ain't coming back. You call me one more time and I'm blocking you, I swear. <Contact was blocked a day later>

-------------------------------------------- MEDIC'S PHONE (List of five most recent contacts with last message) MS. CAMMIE (Belongs to @lens-guy-art ) Right is doing all right, but I can tell he misses you a lot. Would like to arrange with you the best way to get him back home else my supervisor might just throw him in your window which I'm trying to avoid... HUBBLE Why would a phoneman hover? It sounds cool and all, but when you think of phones, they don't really hover. Maybe they just use an algorithm to make everyone doom scroll though lol

BIG BROTHER It is okay here. Just adjusting and all. Wish I could be there with all of you though on the frontlines doing my part and making sure you are all right. PARALIPSIS I don't really want to talk right now, if that's okay. MS. WHISTLE ( @tabieeee ) You wouldn't happen to know of like, any songs that Tremolo and the Titan used to listen to together? I'm trying to find small things to help with the whole...titanphobia...

---------------------------------------------------------------------- PRATTLE AND TATTLE SHARED PHONE (because they both need to be in the know for gossip)

CALL THE MEDIC! (Medic) Please help. Paralipsis is trying to put Prattle in the garbage disposal again!!

HUBBLE BUBBLE (Hubble) Tell high command we got buried in a canyon and there is no finding us now.

STEEL DAD (Civic) If you get this message, thank god for the one bar of reception we got for a single moment. We are kind of lost in the mountains. Send help. Pretty sure there is a cougar out here that just really wants to eat the Chief Engineer or we really are pissing off skibidi bigfoot or something. :Sobbing face emoji:

TITAN BRO (Titan Cameraman) It is simple: Just get a kind of large glass jar and when he's hovering around, you catch him like a grumpy lightning bug! Then you bring him out to the camping trip! It will be fine! We can bond over the campfire, relax, and hunt bigfoot. Just, you know, remember to mark our location in case you have to leave so you can find us again haha! --- Can you come get us? --- Oh god, you really did forget where we were. Titan Bro! You had ONE job!

LORD GRUMPTICUS THE OVERWORKED (Optical belongs to @tabieeee ) If someone were to ask what you were doing this weekend, what would the answer be, on a scale of one to ten, one being you might take a five minute microbreak to ten being all work and no play makes Optical a burnt out engiee? <<CONTACT BLOCKED THEM IMMEDIATELY>>

-------------------------------------------------------------------- TREMOLO'S PHONE MEU GRAND AMOR (Mr. Biggs) A reminder to let you know I love you so much my big beautiful strong man. I saw the sunset and it was only you, rising out of bed <3 <3 <3 HOMEM DA PONTE (Civic) I am disappointed you do not understand the genius of my giant fly swatter trap to smash the Titan Speakerman. Appalled! I will not speak to you for the remainder of the day!

GATINHO (Right belongs to @pughat ) Remember that fear is the mind worm and the enemy of the rainbows. Also combine your knives with a sandal. It gives you advantage in emotional damage. APITO FILHA (Whistle belongs to @tabieeee ) Heard you got your name on some super fancy new invention and wanted to congratulate you, apito filha! Most excellent! You make everyone proud! Now just invent something to perfectly cook things in the microwave so they aren't cold and miserable in the middle and you shall be given a real reward I think!

PEQUENA CÂMERA (Medic) That song you played. Where did you hear it? Not that it was a bad song just...has been a while since I bothered to listen to it. --------------------------------------------------------------- FORTISSIMO AND PIANISSIMO'S PHONE

HUBBLE FRIEND <<A meme picture of the Titan Cameraman with a thumbs down that says "Then perish">> We stole the Titan's shoe laces. Very big. Size six millions.

NO FACE (Perditus belongs to @that-other-dead-person ) Do you also take socks? Are there many lost socks in your dimension? We are missing a lot of socks after laundry day.....

SPIDER LADY ( Puppets belongs to @that-other-dead-person ) What was the spider lady looking for in all the silly files? Was it something fun to do? Maybe we know where the file is!

TREMMY <<A rickroll meme was sent>>

PRATTLE AND TATTLE <<A meme picture of a racoon looking like it is plotting>> We are listening to this plot c:

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PARALIPSIS'S PHONE

BIGGLY BIGGS Get over to my office right now. Bring the mop and clean it up. Don't tell anyone what you saw. It is just spilled...oil or something. Not my blood or some shit or vomit.

Don't wake me up if I'm dying on the couch. My head is killing me.

ULTRA PRIME ALPHA BIG CHIEF SWINGING WRENCH PARA ONE ( Parallax belongs to @tabieeee ) (Message written then erased before sending) I'm not fucking okay. My life is a joke and I hate myself and hate him and myself and him and- (Message written then erased before sending) He told you to text me because he knows I'm not all right! He is in my head, we are always in each other's heads. He already knows and making you ask, but already he could say something but- (Message written then erased before sending) I'm not good and I don't know what to do or how to say it. I don't know what to do. Why is it so hard to just ask for- ((Message sent) Of course I'm fine, Para One. Why the hell wouldn't I be? Watching soap operas and letting my motherboard vaporize as always. Stop your worrying already...the Titan TVman probably just remembered I existed and has to pretend to care for a moment. Usual tyrannical titan leader shit.

AMAZON BUT ILLEGAL (Mr. Vector) I'm not in the mood for your bullshit comments and having a giggle at my fucking expense. Just send me something strong. I don't want to feel anything right now. And make it fast, got it?

PEST <3 (Medic) (Message written then erased before sending) I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say all that or hurt you. I don't even know how to fix any of this. (Message written then erased before sending) I don't want to hurt you. I care about you, more than I've cared about anyone else and I want to be what you need, but- (Message sent) Okay.

NEW ROCKET GUY (Lunokhod belongs to @pughat ) You're hired. Just show up and someone will show you around to the whole rocket launching lab or whatever. No team yet so you just got to do it on your own. Just shoot rockets and send whatever data to HQ so they stop bitching at me.