angelflms

[angelflms]

please. please help @nadagaza04 in anyway possible

My name is Nada, I’m 22 years old, from Gaza 🇵🇸.

I used to live a peaceful and happy life with my husband and our little child ❤️👨‍👩‍👦.

Suddenly, everything changed when our home was bombed and collapsed with all our memories 💔🏚️.

We survived miraculously, but now we live in a tent after losing everything ⛺

The war stole our sense of safety and took away my child’s bed, toys, and little dreams 😢🧸.

We asked our friends in the U.S. to help by launching a support campaign, but the link is taking some time 🇺🇸⌛.

So we had to use my friend Maram’s link temporarily 🙏.

We hope peace returns, and that we can rebuild a new life despite the pain 🌈🕊️.

Thank you to everyone standing with us, even with just a kind word — you are the light in this darkness 🤍✨.

[angelflms]

— “ A REST FROM METROPOLIS ”

summary: clark kent, tired from the very heavy weight of his life, comes to you for comfort.

contains: hurt/comfort, embarrassment surrounding feelings, clark kent needs a hug, sfw.

— original ask.

୨୧ Clark Kent was tired in a way one couldn’t see. to the world, he was tireless. superman never faltered, superman never let the weight of saving lives hunch on his shoulders. and Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter, never missed a deadline, never left a story unfinished, always had a a polite and earnest smile for his colleagues in the bullpen just as he did for the civilians he took quotes from. he was dependable. steady. always there.

but tonight, that steadiness had crumbled; a fact he was embarrassed by.

the apartment was dark when he finally stumbled in, the metropolis skyline glowing faintly through the curtains. his tie was loose, shirt untucked, glasses already discarded on the kitchen counter. his chest ached from holding back sobs he never let out. his body hummed with the dull ache of bruises he never let heal in the open.

for the hundredth time that week, Clark thought: i can’t do this anymore.

but even thinking it felt dangerous. he was supposed to be able to. he was superman; the strongest man alive. he couldn’t admit—couldn’t even whisper—that he was exhausted, lonely, stretched so thin that the seams of him were tearing.

and then, almost like the universe had heard him, there you were. you’d been waiting—curled up on his couch in a sweatshirt, scrolling on your phone. you looked up when he came in, eyes immediately sharp, reading his expression like it was as clear as a large-print headline. “Clark,” you said softly, and it was the first warm thing he’d heard all day.

he opened his mouth to say something in return, to give some clumsy excuse for late hours, about needing a shower, about anything but the truth, but nothing came out. just a strangled breath.

you set your phone aside and and rose, bare feet padding across the carpet, “you look wrecked,” you murmured, a hint of humour in your voice—maybe an attempt to lighten the clearly heavy mood coming from him.

he tried to smile. failed. his hands hung uselessly at his sides. he felt so big, so heavy, towering there with every muscle taut like a bowstring, and yet inside he was but a boy who just wanted to be held. when your hands slid up his arms, settling on his shoulders, he let out a sound he didn’t recognize. half groan, half sigh, he swayed towards you without thinking. “it’s okay,” you whispered, “you don’t have to say anything.”

and just like that his walls broke.

Clark folded inwards, forehead resting against your hair. you were small against him, but you held on as if you could carry every ounce of his weight. his breath hitched, harsh and ragged, and before he could stop himself, he clutched you tighter, like you were the only thing keeping him upright.

he wasn’t used to this: asking for help, admitting he needed comfort. he’d spent his whole life being the strong one. but in your arms, trembling, drained, he felt himself slipping into something softer.

you guided him to the couch without a word, tugging him down beside you. he obeyed. god, he obeyed so easily, too tired to resist. you pulled him down until his head was in your lap, and for a moment he froze, panic flashing at how vulnerable it all felt. but then your fingers threaded in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, and his whole body melted. Clark Kent, Superman, Man of Steel—it all disappeared as he went boneless under your touch. his breath slowed, shuddering at first, then easing into a rhythm, then his eyes fluttered closed.

“you carry too much,” you hummed, tracing a line down his temple, “always trying to be perfect… always trying to save everyone.”

his throat worked around words he couldn’t quite say: i don’t know how to stop. i don’t know who i am if i’m not saving people. but all that came out was a broken little, “i’m so tired.”

“i know, baby,” you whispered, soothing, “just relax, i’ve got you.”

your hands never stopped moving. stroking his hair, brushing along his jaw, pressing comfort into his very skin. he just lay there, huge body curled slightly into yours, chest rising and falling against your thighs like he belonged there. and in that moment, he let himself be small, he let himself belong.

for the first time in months, maybe even years, Clark allowed someone else to take the weight, allowed himself to surrender the burden he carried every waking hour.

you leaned down and kissed his forehead, light and steady. “good boy,” you whispered.

his breath caught, a tremor running through him, a deep ache unknotting itself inside him. his chest loosened, his fists unclenched, and he drifted. not into sleep, not exactly, but into something close. something safe. with your fingers carding through his hair, the city somehow quiet outside, Clark Kent finally let himself rest.

[angelflms]

Hello 👋

I hope your doing well

I hope you receive my message.

I am writing to you with a broken heart after the war destroyed my pharmacy, my source of livelihood.

I beg you to help me rebuild it, even if it's just one dollar.🙏🙏💔

If you cannot donate, please share my campaign so it reaches everyone.

Thank you so much ⚘️❤️‍🩹

The campaign has been verified and shared by @90-ghost

https://www.gofundme.com/f/be-the-reason-for-rebuilding-my-pharmacy?lang=en_US

if anyone can donate to naseef, please do so!! if not, please share around so they can get more exposure.

[angelflms]

Clark Kent humping a pillow that’s it. I just need it

oh my god girl… your mind… <3!!!

୨୧ Clark Kent lay flat on his back in his metropolis apartment, sweat-damp shirt sticking to his chest, hard cock straining uselessly in his pants. he had been trying to resist it for weeks—all those ugly, guilty thoughts about you, all the ways his imagination got away from him whenever you crossed his mind.

but he couldn’t anymore. his balls ached, his cock was so hard and swollen it hurt, and the second he closed his eyes, all he could see was you: you laughing, glossy mouth wrapped around a straw, you leaning over his desk, tits pressed together under your top. you pouting in that faux-sweet way that somehow made him feel like his knees would give out. his cock literally twitched so hard it made him groan.

Clark rolled onto his stomach, burying his red face in the pillow—even though there was no one there to see it but him—and dragged another pillow down between his hips.

he hadn’t done this since he was a teenager: rutting helplessly into the mattress. but he was so desperate he didn’t care.

his cock was leaking, smearing precum across the cotton of his boxers, the light friction of the fabric making him shiver. he wrapped his arms around the pillow under his head and started to move into the one below his hips. slow, awkward thrusts, like he was embarrassed to even be doing this (which he was), just pushing his hips down, grinding his cock against the soft cushion. his breath came out in sharp, wet little gasps as the pressure hit his needy tip.

“oh—oh, god,” his voice cracked embarrassingly in the empty room. it felt too good. the pillow was soft, pliant, pressed against him just enough for him to imagine he was sliding into something warm and wet. he buried his face deeper, humping faster, cock throbbing as he rutted like an animal.

in his mind it wasn’t a pillow, it was you.

he pictured you lying underneath him, teasing him for being so worked up. is this what you think about when you’re alone, baby? you think about me and hump your bed like a loser? you would say. the image of it all made his balls tighten almost instantly.

Clark moaned as he started thrusting more frantically, voice muffled in his pillow. the slick patch spreading in his boxers grew with every pump of his hips, precum soaking through and making the fabric cling to his cock. his thighs shook as he fucked the pillow with desperate little jerks, trying to find relief after weeks of denial. his big hands clawed at the pillowcase. he bit into it, groaning through his teeth, humiliated at how fast he was going to lose it. every rub of the pillow against his cockhead made him twitch. he was panting, sweating, cock grinding clumsily against the fabric.

“oh fuck—ohhhh,” the words tumbled out before he could stop it, shame and lust colliding until he was trembling.

he thought of your tits bouncing as he slammed into you, thought of your nails scratching down his back, of you moaning prettily as he lost control inside your cunt.

every muscle in Clark’s body seized up. his cock pulsed violently, and with a broken, pillow-muffled moan, rutting against the pillow, he came in his boxers. the wet warmth spread quickly, soaking the fabric, smearing between his cock and the pillow with every twitch of his hips.

he kept grinding even as he came, desperate and overstimulated, riding it out until he was a shaking mess. cum leaked out of his boxers, staining the pillowcase, sticky and humiliating.

when it was over, Clark turned around and flopped on his back, chest heaving face burning with shame. his was still semi-hard, sticky and aching, but his whole body was boneless, drained. he lifted his head, saw the wet patch on his pillow and groaned miserably, almost saying something out loud about how pathetic he felt. the worst part of it all? he would do it again, no doubt. because no matter how hard he tried, no matter how guilty he felt, your perfect face was going to haunt his cock until he broke ten thousand times over again.

[angelflms]

Clark Kent is not the easiest target if you want a quick laugh.

You're online shopping one day and come across the perfect shirt for Clark. Its form-fitting and a beautiful navy blue that brings out his eyes perfectly.

When you surprise him with the package one day when he gets home from work, he's so excited to see what you got him, despite the fact that you keep trying to tell him its just a normal navy shirt.

So he decides to tear it out of the package one day and throw it into the wash, not even reading the white block print on the front — not even seeing it.

The two of you have an outing scheduled for the weekend and he decides that'll be the best time to show off his new shirt. He wants you to know that he loves you and that hes happy to wear what you get him.

Saturday rolls around and you're getting ready when you see him wander into your bedroom wearing the new shirt you got him. You have to stifle a giggle because has he even looked at himself in a mirror yet? Does he even know what the shirt says?

"You look pretty," he smiles at you, kissing the top of your head from your seat at your vanity.

"Mhm," you cant help but just stare at the shirt in the reflection of the mirror, "oh, thank you," you coo, stroking the side of his cheek scatteredly.

"You almost ready to go?" He asks, already leaving the room.

"Uh huh," you hum absently.

The day goes on smoother than youd expected. Not that you thought anyone would come up and ask where to get a shirt like that or just straight up pointing and laughing, but there are... looks.

Looks that Clark notices about halfway through the day while the two of you are hand in hand walking down the busy sidewalk with drinks in hand.

"Okay, why does everyone keep staring at me." He asks, obviously getting a little frustrated and concerned.

And a part of you wonders if he's thinking that maybe his cover's been blown. That his name has been blasted all over times square with Superman's Identity Found!

But you know exactly why everyone is looking at him and youre beginning to feel a little guilty for stressing him out. You fight the urge to tell him, honey I think its your shirt.

But he's just so funny to tease so you let it go on a bit longer. Plus, you know he'd get you back tenfold and not have any guilt about it so you decide it all cancels out karmaically.

When the two of you finally get back to your apartment around late afternoon, Clark is steady behind you on the steps to your floor, asking and asking and asking about all the weird looks and snickers people were giving him.

"I mean, c'mon. I didnt have food on my face did I?" He stops on the marble stairs, footsteps ceasing to echo along your own. "You didnt let me walk around with food on my face did you?" He staring up at you, brows furrowed in concern.

You sigh, "no, I think it was just a weird day." Youre too tired to keep the act up and partially beginning to get frustrated that its taken him the entire damn day of getting weird looks and literally laughed at and he hasnt looked at himself in the mirror or down at his shirt once.

Clark is not the easiest target if you want a quick laugh.

You can tell hes not convinced by your response but follows you nonetheless, still blabbering behind you about all the theoretical possibilities besides his fucking shirt.

"It cant be Superman, I checked my phone there's absolutely no news about it. Maybe it was —"

"Honey," you stop at the front door, halfway through turning the key, "don't worry about that. I promise you nobody found out."

Clark groans, balling up his fists and pressing them to his eyes in frustration.

"But how can you be so sure! Maybe there's something they know that i dont!"

Ain't that the truth.

You dont say anything as you open the door and make your way into the bedroom to undress down to more comfortable clothes.

Clark follows you, still going on.

"I really need to start being more careful, I mean, what if someone follows us or you or what if —"

He turns around to head to the closet and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and the white block letters across his shirt. He lets out a wryly scoff.

Orgasm Donor

"Are you serious." He turns back to you, hands on his hips. "Like are you actually serious. Are you five years old?" He grabs a pillow from the bed and chucks it at you.

You're in hysterics, just absolutely sobbing on the bed in laughter.

"Im— how did you not even look once?" You squeal, kicking your feet up.

"Because this is silly! Its ridiculous!" He spanks you on the butt, "you're ridiculous."

You're still laughing when you hear him leave the room and murmer something about how he's no longer going to be donating which makes you immediately stop the giggling and hop up from the bed, following him with a "wait what?!"

[angelflms]

Here is Gaza..We’ve lost everything. My sisters and I have been displaced again—this is not the first time. Each time we flee, we leave behind what little we had left. Our father is sick and unable to move, and our mother had to leave Gaza to care for my injured sister in Egypt. That left us—just us, women—trying to survive alone under constant bombing. We haven’t eaten properly in days. Sometimes go to sleep with nothing in our stomachs but water and salt. We tried selling some of our belongings just to buy a bit of flour. Medicines are almost impossible to find, and our father’s condition is getting worse. The noise of shelling is a constant reminder that we’re not safe anywhere..We have no shelter, no income, and no support here on the ground. But we still have hope in people like you. Your donation could mean food for today… or medicine for our father. Please, if you can help—help now. We are doing all we can, but we are exhausted, hungry, and afraid. Your kindness can save

Here's the link to her go fund me please if you have anything to give help this family if not just interact and hopefully this will get to people who can help

ushttps://www.gofundme.com/f/support-for-family-amidst-war-hardships

[angelflms]

please help out huda @hudagazzasblog in anyway you can!

From Starvation to Displacement💔🍉🇵🇸

Khan Younis: A City of Displacement and Hunger🇵🇸🍉

Khan Younis… a city overwhelmed by displacement, suffocating under the weight of tents and silent screams.Families fleeing from one danger into another, with nothing but broken dreams and borrowed blankets.

Children are starving. Mothers spend the day searching for crumbs. Fathers are shadows of themselves, carrying pain they can’t express. No clean water. No food. No medicine.

This is not a page from history — this is now. In Khan Younis. In the dust and mud, among torn tents and empty pots.

Hunger is the only language left. The cries are loud, even if the world has stopped listening.

Please, don’t turn away. Every share, every donation can help.

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[angelflms]

y'all ever read something in a comment section that just....makes you wonder why you even wanted to become a writer to begin with when CLEARLY there are better writers out there?

okay so i asked a question about how to describe this little mouth thing david!clark did in the end credit scene of the new superman because i have been trying to describe this motion in writing for years and never had an effective way of doing so.

and oomf responded with this reply:

so... i became a writer because....? who needs me when this exists? they write a LOT better than me.

[angelflms]

"Your soulmate is not your celebrity crush 10+ years older than you!" OKAY YES I KNOW THAT...but what if he is 👀

[angelflms]

please donate to @alwansohaila-670 if you can!

Urgent Appeal: A Mother’s Cry for Help in Gaza

My name is Suheila, a mother of five from Gaza.

After our home was completely destroyed, we have been left with nothing — no shelter, no food, no water. We are living in the open, exposed to the harsh elements, hunger, and fear.

My husband, Shadi, is seriously injured and unable to move or work. There is no access to treatment or even pain relief. His condition worsens daily.

My son, Shukri, is slowly fading. He hasn't eaten in a week. His tiny body is withering before my eyes — and I am powerless to help him.

My daughter, Mira, suffers from severe malnutrition. I have a medical report confirming her condition, but there is no medicine, no food, and no milk available.

We are desperate. My children are in pain. We have nothing left.

Please, help us survive. Every donation — no matter how small — can provide food, clean water, and medical aid. Your support can save lives.

We are clinging to hope. Please don’t turn away.

This is not just our story — it's a call for humanity.

🙏 Donate now. Save a child. Save a family.

Campaign checked by 90-ghost

Donation link

......................................PayPal❤️

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Follow

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[angelflms]

sometimes i forget how young david corenswet is. like let's do a little math lesson real quick.

thirty-two seems old to some of y'all but let's put that into perspective. so, let's put this into comparative situations. hugh jackman, another white superhero male actor, is about 56 years old. he is old enough to be my grandfather, as he is about four years younger than him.

david isn't even old enough to be my DAD.

okay, so my father was born in 1977, making him 47 years old. that is the same year that star wars: a new hope debuted in theaters. that's a whopping fifteen years corenswet's junior.

i, a twenty-year-old girl born in 2005, am only 12 years younger than corenswet. if he was the same age today as he was back when he did moe & jerryweather, he would've been just a year or so above me in college and would be graduating this year.

he would've celebrated his 30th birthday while filming twisters just two years ago.

bianca lawson would be the same age he was filming twisters (30), playing maya in pretty little liars. maya was the same age he was in the year the show premiered (2009). sasha pieterse was only four years younger than him.

math and time is just absolutely diabolical, but i do think this is a great way to say, not only is this bitch young, but that someone in their 30s isn't old.

[angelflms]

Superman (2025) — dir. James Gunn

[angelflms]

help nada please. she needs money for donations @nadagaza01

My name is Nada, I’m 22 years old, from Gaza 🇵🇸.

I used to live a peaceful and happy life with my husband and our little child ❤️👨‍👩‍👦.

Suddenly, everything changed when our home was bombed and collapsed with all our memories 💔🏚️.

We survived miraculously, but now we live in a tent after losing everything ⛺

The war stole our sense of safety and took away my child’s bed, toys, and little dreams 😢🧸.

We asked our friends in the U.S. to help by launching a support campaign, but the link is taking some time 🇺🇸⌛.

So we had to use my friend Maram’s link temporarily 🙏.

We hope peace returns, and that we can rebuild a new life despite the pain 🌈🕊️.

Thank you to everyone standing with us, even with just a kind word — you are the light in this darkness 🤍✨.

[angelflms]

please help @mohgazzz in anyway you can!

Oh world 🌏

I hope to find someone who will listen to us and see us now 🤍

Famine, genocide, and destruction are now covered in the media. 🩸🔇

[angelflms]

warner bros movies, box office successes, "one of me is cute but two tho?" (corenswet and jordan), love stories that move you, directed by (former) MCU directors, and the villain actor is played by skins uk actor.

and that's why they're top one and two of my 2025 movie list so far.

between sinners and superman it's been a great summer for "this actor is so hot we are divinely obligated to cast him twice in the same movie"

[angelflms]

looks like i have to add another rachel to my "get behind me" list. how lovely.

sometimes i wonder if fandom is even worth it anymore.

[angelflms]

Hello my friend ❤

I hope you’re doing well. I’m Ayoush from Gaza 🍉, 25 years old, and I take care of my family of 8 members.

Asking for help isn’t easy, but I’m in desperate need of your support.

My family has lost everything because of the war, and now we have nothing left. We are living through the worst conditions of famine.

Prices are extremely high, and we’re not receiving any aid 💔😭

That’s why I’m not asking for much — I just need $50 to buy 2 kilograms of flour, enough to feed my family for just one day 🥹😭😭

Please, you are the only hope for me and my family. This war has exhausted us for over 600 days.

So please, don’t ignore me and try to help us 😭

Any donation you make will help me provide the most basic needs for my family 🙏

Here's her page so you can go donate 🫶

https://www.tumblr.com/ayoosh-gaza0022?source=share