#pity phishing

[embervoices]

If you send me messages/asks requesting money or reblogs for money, and I don't know you personally already, I'm just going to delete it.

I don't expect this to stop the pity phishing bots, which have suddenly increased now that I have a post that broke containment (which, since it was activism, is as it should be).

I just need y'all real people to understand that while I do try to help where and when I can, I have no consistent personal income myself.

I am well supported! Don't worry about me! But I can't just give my partners' money away to anyone and everyone who asks.

Tempted to pin this, but my existing pin is more important.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Let's Make a Deal

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this and this

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: desperate times bring you to desperate measures.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Is it self-pity or self-loathing that has your skin crawling? You can’t quite discern between the emotions rotting in your stomach. All you know, is you can’t stand yourself. 

You’re here and you’re not turning back now. You might not have a choice but it’s still a choice. This is what you’ve resorted to. You shudder as you stand at the door of the townhouse. You stare at the doorbell above the little speaker box and every doubt rattles in your head. 

‘Seeking companionship. Women without prior experience preferred’. 

You always laughed at the desperate, if not trollish, postings. How ridiculous. You always just scrolled on by, assuming them to be no more than a pathetic attempt at phishing. And if they were real, well, that’s even more pathetic. 

Even standing there, you can’t be sure it isn’t some scheme. Yeah, you emailed the man behind the ad. You even spoke on the phone. Several times. Trying to be sure but you’re still not. 

No one else knows you’re there. You’re too embarrassed for that. It’s foolish too. You could be murdered and no one would know. You’re trying not to think of that. You focus instead on what you stand to gain. 

You reach and press the button before common sense gets the best of you. As you wait, you look down at yourself. It’s just what he wanted. ‘Wear a red dress. That way I know it’s really you’. You grit back another wave of disgust. 

The door opens and you’re not ready. How can you be? It’s the first time you’re seeing him but not the first time he’s seen you. You can’t even hope that he’ll be repulsed. 

You’re silent. Both of you. You gape at him and he stares back. It turns to a leer as his throat bobs and he pushes his shoulders back. He’s bigger than you expect. At least he isn’t the slobbish, greasy man you expected. Not on the outside at least.  

“Hi, sweetie,” it’s the same voice from the call. His name is Steve. “You look...” his eyes skim up and down your figure, “well, I can’t really see. You got this coat on.” 

You force a smile. Your cheeks feel tight. You can’t speak. 

“No need to be nervous,” he grips the door as he holds it open, “hey, why don’t you come inside? You must be freezing out there?” 

You nod and step through the door as he stands back. The warmth feels even more stolid as heat roils within you. You look around the entryway. The subtle ripple of the dark hardwood paneling and the old-style banisters. You feel smaller standing inside. 

“Let me take your coat,” he tugs on the sleeve.  

You don’t stop him. You shrug it off as he strips it away. He turns to hang it in the closet behind the front door and you hug yourself as you take it all in. Not just your surroundings, but your situation. He is a stranger but you’re going to do what you have to do. 

“I like that dress,” he startles you as he comes up next to you. “It’s cute.” 

You glance down. It’s the only red dress you have. It’s not even yours, actually. You borrowed it from a friend and never wore it. 

“Thanks,” you finally find your voice. 

“Mm, you sound sweet,” he rests his hand lightly on your back and you feel like melting as heat radiates off of him. “Let me show you around.” 

You can only nod. Once more, all sound has evaporated from you. You let him lead you into the next room. A living room just as nice as the front hallway. There’s a fireplace and antique fixtures and the furniture is a cozy shade of cream. There’s exposed brick above the mantel as fire burns behind and iron grate. 

You rub your arms, shivering despite the stuffy air. He takes you into the dining room, open to a kitchen with dusty blue counters and deep oak finishes. This place is nice. Big. Much better than the loft you’ve been curled up in for the last two weeks. 

“We can check out upstairs later if you just wanna get settled,” he offers. 

You look at him, cheeks pinching as your throat constricts. He’s tall. His hair is blond but his beard is dark. His shoulders are broad, even beneath his brown jacket, and his grey tee is stretched across his thick chest. You’re entirely outmatched, more than physically. 

“It must be tough. Too bad about the job.” He says. 

You draw away, turning your face down as you crumple in shame. Fired, almost homeless, this is your one way out. He’s nice enough. The place is clean. He is too. But it’s just too much. It can’t be real. 

You did everything right. You graduated high school. Got your degree. All on time. You worked your butt off through both of those yet you could never break through to more than temp work. Now it’s all dried up, just like your contract. They promised you full-time but it never came. 

“Sorry, I know you probably don’t want to talk about that,” he says. 

You shuffle around and go to the mantle. You stare at the flames. You don’t think they’re hot enough to thaw the ice creeping over your heart. This isn’t fair. 

He might be polite, he might be generous, but he’s still some guy looking for a ‘situationship’ on the internet. And you answered. 

You hear him behind you. The floor groans with his weight. You lift your chin and admire the wooden clock on the ledge. You suppose having money can’t help the loneliness. Silence wraps around you, building a shell. 

“Come here,” he says, shaking you from your trance. 

You blink and turn to him slowly. You drop your arms. You push away the chagrin needling your forehead and face him completely. He sits on the couch, legs wide, arm across the back. 

You’re jarred at the sight of him. His chin is down and his eyes are pinpointed on you. You hesitate, fingers fluttering, and make yourself move. One foot, the other, then the first again. 

The glean in his blue eyes chills you. His gaze follows you like an animal. You stop only an inch away. 

“It’s a nice house,” you say. “I don’t mean to be quiet--” 

“I get it. You’re nervous,” he reaches to grab your hand then sits back, tugging you closer. “But you don’t need to play shy.” 

He moves you towards him. He brings his arm off the couch and shifts your hip around as he leads you between his legs. He pushes until you fold, sitting on his leg, teetering on it uneasily. He lets out a gritty hum and urges you to lean against him. 

He curls his arm around your back to keep you in place and brings his other hand up to stroke your cheek. His eyes bore into you. He presses his knuckles to your cheek and brushes his thumb along your lower lip. 

“You’re even more beautiful up close,” he rasps. 

“Thank you,” you utter, lip trembling against his thumb. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he toys with your mouth, tracing it as his fingers dig into your hip. “I can take care of you. You like the place, right? You’ll be comfortable here.” 

“Sure,” you gulp. 

He purrs and pushes his thumb through your lips. You flinch in surprise. He prods at your tongue at he turns his hand to grip your chin, keeping his finger hook in your mouth. 

Your gaze meets his. His eyes search your face as they darken. He takes a deep breath and pulls you closer. He shudders in excitement. 

“I always wanted someone like you, sweetie,” he drags his thumb out of your mouth and wipes the moisture down your chin. He tickles along our throat as you shiver. “So pretty, so pure.” He plays with the collar of your dress, trailing along the vee as he gives a hum. “Are you nervous for your first time?” 

You hold back a whimper. Him saying it out loud makes it real. Coming here, walking through this house, sitting on his lap, those should be enough but those worse are more vivid than anything. You blink and nod. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” his hand travels down the front of your dress. “I’ll be gentle... until you can take all of me.” 

[freak-accident419]

High On You

Derek Danforth x GN!AFAB!Reader

Summary: You read over the statistics and analytics for Derek’s company, as he requested. Except, while you do this, you’re on his bed, lower half of your body exposed as he does lines of cocaine on your thigh—then he eats you out.

WC: 1.2k

Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, derek danforth x reader (gn!afab!reader), oral (v!receiving), no spoilers for The Beekeeper, brief (yet detailed) cocaine/drug use, graphic depictions of sex and drugs (this is probably the filthiest thing i ever wrote on here), cursing

(A/n: I couldn’t wait to write it, so here !! Haven’t watched the movie yet, but if I notice that there’s anything incorrect here once I do, I’ll go back and change it ! I’m so sorry to my AMAB readers and/or the AFAB readers who get dysphoria from this type of writing !! You can check out my other smuts that aren’t genital-specific !! Love you all!! And thanks to everyone for your support !! Anyways, I think that Derek doing coke on the reader is such a Derek thing to do.)

Tags: @thehermitsaltar @coriolanussnowswife @moonlight-rosevine @harrysflorist @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @joshhutchersons-slut

-

Your rich boyfriend, Derek Danforth, asked you to read over the statistics and analytics of his phishing center, informing him how much money he’s earned in the past week.

Except it wasn’t a very professional or orderly way.

You laid on his bed, looking at the information on your phone, reading how much millions were gained on Thursday, while your entire lower body was naked. You two were always a very intimate couple, so this wasn’t new or had invoked any feelings of diffidence, as your legs were spread out across the mattress.

He snorted a line of cocaine, pressing down on one of his nostrils to inhale the drug after spilling the white powder onto your thigh and scraping it into several thin lines using one of his credit cards. It felt tingly, to have him do this on your thigh, his head ever so close to your cunt. While this occurred, his free hand was resting on your other bare thigh.

He let out an ecstatic groan afterward, and then looked at you as his high rushed in. “What—What’d you say again, baby?”

You chuckle softly at his mannerisms. “I said that in total, for Thursday at least, UDG obtained, like, over six fucking million,” you reply, looking over the statistics on your phone again. “Business is booming.”

Derek smirked as he was satisfied to hear the news. “Damn fuckin’ right it is.”

His body slightly tensed up as he quickly inhaled another white line on your thigh through his nostril, briefly rubbing his nose afterwards. The sharp inhale caused him to feel a surge of euphoria throughout his body as the drugs entered his system. His eyes closed in pleasure, then opened, pupils slightly dilated.

You watched him do this, taking a short drag of your cigarette. “Last week’s average was five point two million dollars,” you add, observing him as he corrected the final line with the card, straightening it out onto your thigh.

“So what was the total earned in that week?” He inquired as your cigarette remained hanging from your mouth.

“Thirty-six million dollars, baby,” you answer proudly while he inhales the last line quite harshly, and heard him whoop as he gained exhilaration from both the drug and the statistics.

You finally place your phone down on the night stand to give full attention to your boyfriend. You bring your hand to his hair, tangling his soft, light curls in your fingers. “Congratulations,” you praise gently, watching Derek close his eyes in pleasure, leaving a small kiss on your thigh.

He placed the package of coke on the night stand and adjusted himself on the bed between your legs. He continued to leave soft kisses on your thigh, gradually trailing towards your untouched pussy.

“Mm, I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” He observed, demonstrating a hint of pity. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he huffs, pulling your hips closer to his face as he finally licked up your cunt in an animalistic fashion.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers still in his hair, and you grab the cigarette out of your mouth, immediately putting it out on the ashtray.

Derek’s warm tongue caressed along your folds exuberantly, moving up and down as your breath hitched. He gripped your thighs tightly, pushing his face even further in your cunt. You let out a gasp—almost a moan—as he flicked your clit with his tongue, stimulating the sensitive nub which elicited even more intense sounds from your mouth.

“O-oh, fuck, Derek!” You moaned as you felt him suck at your clit, closing his lips around it while lightly moving his hands up and down from your thighs to your sensitive hips, thumb pushing down on your pelvic bone for a brief moment, causing more pleasure within you. “S-so good, love… Fuck, yes.”

He lapped at your dripping pussy once more, threatening to poke inside each time his tongue ran over your entrance. He incessantly licked at you, so desperately and lustfully, occasionally tugging at your flesh between his soft lips.

“Taste s’fucking good,” he mutters between his rapid licks, “S’fucking good for me Y/n…” He rubbed off some leftover powder on your thigh, messily inhaling it through his nose for enhanced stimulus.

Your thighs jolting as you let out a high-pitched whine once you felt his tongue finally push inside your wet, aching cunt. He was eating you out as if you were forbidden fruit, because he would rather die than never be able to taste you. Pleasing to the eye, he really couldn’t help it. He was practically making out with your pussy, exploring your walls with his generous tongue.

Your legs closed around his head and you brought both of your hands to his hair, tugging his curls, which gets a muffled groan out of him, the vibration causing you to feel even more pleasure. Your breath hitched and you choked out a moan as you felt his nose bumping against your clit as he ate you out. Derek felt so hazy and foggy from his high, and because everything was so sensitive for him, he could practically cum untouched from how much arousal he gained from pleasing you. Not only was he high on cocaine, but he was also high on your taste, and hearing you moan was his ultimate addiction.

“Sh-shit, Derek…” Your head turned to the side tiredly, eyes threatening to close as you felt overwhelmed with all the stimulation. Derek hooked one of his arms around your thigh so he could place his hand warmly on your stomach, below your belly button yet over your cunt, now focusing more on his precision.

You felt yourself closer to your orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing onto you each second. Derek slipped his tongue out, just to spread your pussy lips apart with his fingers, and then lap his tongue against your cunt again sloppily, making your thighs twitch, incoherent whimpers escaping your mouth. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot…” he mumbles.

You let out a high-pitched moan as his long, slender middle finger inserted into you effortlessly, quick, deep thrusts provoking wet, vulgar squelches while he simultaneously sucked your clit again. He pulled out his finger smoothly, abrasively running it between your soaked folds, then pushed it back in deeply.

“G-God! Fuck!” You whined, back arching as you succumbed to his touch. Abruptly, he spit on your cunt, lapped his tongue on you, switching constantly between your folds and your clit. You felt a knot in your stomach, in which Derek’s free hand had still remained resting on it. His licks were fast and rough, and you felt yourself being driven over the edge. “G—Fuck, Derek, b-baby, I-I’m—”

“That’s it, that’s it, baby,” he encouraged softly in between licks. He looked at you hungrily with his deep brown eyes, “Cum for me.”

The second you heard his command, you came hard around his finger, moaning his name loudly as he slipped it out to desperately taste your juices, him groaning in your cunt. You whimpered and shuddered uncontrollably, his insistent touch bringing you to overstimulation. He kissed it a few times, then brought himself up from the mattress to make you with you, lips moving with yours as it allowed you to taste yourself.

“Fucking love you,” he muttered in the kiss. “So good for me, Y/n, fuck.” He held you in his arms softly, being as gentle as he could, rubbing your arms up and down comfortingly. The room smelled like sex, as the atmosphere consisted of only your deep breaths and the soft, wet smacking of your kisses.

“Fuck,” you panted, and the corner of your lips curled into a relieved smile until you kissed him again. “I love you too.”

[kyra45]

Current active cancer faker is under cathelene-cancer-thriver. Has been using the same ladies identity as their own on tumblr across multiple blogs by now and acts like they aren’t scamming but are. Going as far as stealing videos too, in order to continue pushing that they’re the person but keeps using the same name across the other accounts.

Don’t donate to cathelene-cancer-thriver and please report them for being a scammer under phishing. They are taking money away from someone who actually has cancer by acting like it’s them when it’s not. All the photos and videos used on their account has been stolen/saved off the real person who doesn’t use tumblr and never has. They will lie to you to get your money in this scam. The real person has cancer. They don’t. It’s just an act of impersonation meant to make you give them sympathy and your cash.

Please warn people whose shared their post and urge them to demand a refund for being lied to. Faking cancer to make money is proof these kinds of scammers don’t care about what they do and why you shouldn’t give them your pity. Especially if they’ve been at this for years by now and are still running it every chance they get. They will take someone else’s struggle and claim it as their own.

The links they have are just more efforts to look legitimate. It’s not the real person. It’s a scammer. The real person is being impersonated. They changed urls the first time I called them out in a post where I document their other scam attempts. I’m making this post because I keep getting asks and my other post with proof is very old and doesn’t show up easily.

[star-hoon]

oversharing on the internet:

why do i feel socially awkward even online 😭 i feel like i always meet such cool and nice ppl online (here included!) but i still feel like i'm always on the outside and intruding on like a set friend group :'( and that i'm not in with like certain inside jokes like idek

already deal with this enough in real life so i hope to find better luck online but the story is always the same *sigh*

(swear to god not phishing for pity or anything or trying to @ anyone in particular. this is something ive experienced being online for 10 years. i just genuinely sometimes have to take a step back and think if im the problem LOL and needed to vent abt this somewhere)

[fatfables]

Fat People Can Sing Too (Part 5)

Parts one to four available below.

Ben had a roaring headache. A bell boy helped him up, gave him six ibuprofen, and walked with him to his room. “By the way, you should probably look at this morning's paper,” he said. Ben opened the door and David was already there sitting on the sofa, a pile of morning papers, tabloids and broadsheets, in front of him. Ben wondered if David had stayed in his room overnight but didn’t ask. “Brian will be here soon, we’ll start then,” was all he said. Ben felt sick, he thumped onto the bed with such force that David thought it might break. This reminded him, “While we wait for Brian I’ll order you breakfast, you must be starving with that hangover!”

David was right, hangovers did make Ben really hungry. He wolfed down the two English breakfasts and was working his way through fifteen syrup drenched pancakes when Brian arrived. “I’m glad to see that you’re still fixated on winning…,” he said, looking at Ben who was greedily gulping down the sugar intense breakfast treats, sticky tree syrup running down his big round double chin. “...But I fear it may be in vain. I think you blew it last night.” Ben was alarmed by Brian’s dour demeanour; he was normally so positive. Aggressive, but positive. He wondered what he could possibly have done so wrong to blow his own chances. He felt a small tear welling up in his left eye. He had been so close to being famous.

David showed Ben one of the red-top papers, “Ben Sherman is a fat lazy alcoholic!” The fat on Ben’s face crumpled up into a never before seen shape. What? He was so confused. He protested loudly that this was bullshit and that they needed to sue the paper, sue the reporter, sue anybody! He had never been an alcoholic, yes he liked to drink, but that wasn’t the same! Was it?

“Can’t we use this addiction for sympathy?” said David, hopefully. “Don’t be such a fucking moron!” Brian screamed at him. “No one feels fucking sorry for alcoholics! Everyone thinks it’s there own fucking fault!”. His face was bright red. He started to prance about the room; “How could someone do that to themselves?” “No wonder he can’t get a job!” He was putting on different women's voices and waving his arms about in an effeminate manner. “His liver will blow soon if he doesn’t stop.” “I don’t know why he doesn’t just stop?” “Just don’t drink so fucking much.” He stopped prancing and stared at Ben, who had stopped eating to watch him. “That’s what they’ll fucking say! They’ll blame you, say it’s your own fault. No one pities alcoholics. No one fucking likes them!” He put a woman's voice back on again, “Why doesn’t he just drink less?”

“Because, he’s got a binge eating disorder,” said David. Brian looked at him and smiled. “No, I fucking don’t,” said Ben through a mouthful of pancakes. “That’s the first smart thing you’ve said today,” said Brian. Ben was confused. He hadn’t realised that Brian had aimed his comment at David.

Ben had never liked the binge eating disorder angle. It was disingenuous. Lying about being diabetic had been bad enough, now they wanted him to double down on the dishonesty. He believed that making up such lies only took advantage of people who really had to deal with such issues. He put this point to David later that afternoon but David had won the argument by saying that he did have a binge eating disorder. Ben vehemently argued that he didn’t and that the whole weight gain idea had been against his initial wishes. David countered by pointing out that Ben had eaten three large battered cods, a large portion of chips, two tubs of mushy peas, and four jumbo sausages for lunch. And that anyone who could do that whilst proclaiming that they didn’t have a binge eating disorder was clearly delusional, hence proving that they did in fact have a disorder. Ben had no comeback to this so he just sat sulking on his bed in a depressive manner for over an hour until David brought him two tubs of Phish Food. This cheered him up immensely.

The first part of Brian’s plan was to issue the denials. It was important that even if no one believed them - yet, that they at least made it clear that the reports were wrong. Two days later he arranged a press conference for Ben to explain in his own words what had happened. Ben explained that the stress of the competition had really been getting to him and that he eats when he is stressed. Yes he also likes a drink at times, but not normally to excess, and certainly not everyday. He admitted to having ‘self-control’ issues since his Grandma had passed and that this made the effects of his diabetes worse at times. The combination of too much food, stress, and yes alcohol, on this occasion, had caused him to have an attack and collapse. This was due to his diabetic condition and it was totally irresponsible of the press to jump to false conclusions about alcoholism when in reality he had a disease that was in no way his own fault. The housewives of Facebook and X (formerly known as Twitter) ate it up.

The next day the Daily Mirror and four other papers printed redactions and apologies in an attempt to save face in front of the reader backlash. They had besmirched the housewives hero and were forced to repent. “That’s at least 300,000 more sympathy votes,” Brian had said.

The second part of the plan was to finally admit to the binge eating disorder live on air after Ben had won the semi-final. It was to be the key component of his victory interview in order to garner more votes in the grand final. To make the whole story believable it was now imperative that Ben continued to gain weight. As much as was humanly possible. David was relishing the challenge. They had three days.

Ben ate masses of McDonalds, buckets of Burger King, and colossal amounts of KFC. He had Wagamama’s once, Nando’s twice, and a ton of Taco Bell thrice. His belly kept swelling and he felt constantly full. But he kept overeating anyway. He had Pizza Hut, Dominoes, and Papa Johns. He drank coca-cola, pepsi-cola, tango, and Dr Pepper. But no more beer. He ate piles of pasta with mountains of mushrooms, and loads of lingonberry jam with his meatballs. He gulped down generous portions of profiteroles, pavlovas, and pasties. His hunger grew with his girth. It was now a must to eat more macaroni, mackerel, and macaroons. He needed to have more nuggets, nutella, and noodles. He gobbled it all down into his ballooning belly. His gluttony knew no bounds. His thighs grew thicker. His ass grew wider. His breasts grew broader. He bloated his belly bigger and bigger and bigger. David bought him new clothes, again. While he stayed in and ate apple pies and ice cream, baked alaskas with extra cream, and milkshakes with full fat cream. God, how he now loved cream! He crammed it all into his mouth, he couldn’t wait to feel it all in his belly. His stomach strained and heaved. It was so heavy. He was so heavy. 

[barbaramillicentgordonroberts]

: Good start to what it says 👆from the numbers that this movie will be able to start making at from 28 million dollars to 38 million dollars for the domestic box office in this upcoming opening weekend, if some of you want to go to whatever different movie you want to watch, that is fine with us being up to it, which I hope that I do not become one of them, which I will try to not be able to watch those, but of Elemental instead whenever I am ready for being able to feel it apart from the other movies that the others will be able to watch from this summer when it comes to Disney Plus including with all of the bonus features extras included with the movie as well as for when it comes out on its digital copy release, and on its physical copy release, and for all of the other movies that will be able to be throughout the summer, I can try to be able to watch them all online besides from all of the bonus features extras included with each of the movies especially if they are in Disney Plus, or not like I have done in the past with all of the other stuff that is animated, or so else that is not animated, besides from all of the ones that we will be able to currently get in the present way before we will be able to get whatever might be able to come in the future, but still if you do decide to watch Elemental, it is fine with having a perfect accurate long fun filled factual, math logical, scientific, historical, etc., and logical explanation analysis of every single thing of the movie even with all of the characters, all of the scenes, seeing all of the visuals, catching all of the gags, catching all of the puns, being able to be understanding all of the jokes, getting all of the tidbits, looking for all of the Easter eggs, seeing all of the references whether it is pop culture, or not, and being able to be inspecting every little detail of everything of the movie as I just listed in here, and much more besides from all of the things that I just listed in here, and all of the other stuff 100% complete frame by frame by pausing to every single second of every single minute of the entire footage movie from when it is with all of the opening logos, and all of the opening credits of the very start of the movie at 00 : 00 : 00 to the very end of the movie with all of the closing logos, and all of the end credits at 01 : 42 : 00, but do not ever let this happen to the movie by not letting the movie flop at the box office, and not being able to have any of all of the criticizing to all of the misjudgings, not being able to be labeling all of this movie as underestimated, not being able to be categorizing this movie as either underated, or overrated, and not being able to be doing all of the other negative things to the movie at all like how some people are hurting the movie with all of their own hating ways to it such as making fun of it the bad way, trolling, cat phishing, deceiving red herrings, etc., so instead of cyber bullying to this movie, have all of your pity apologies to being able to be sorry for by supporting the movie safely to us fans of this movie with the love it needs both positively, and neutrally as it has been with all of the other films from Pixar's past as well as for all of the ones for Disney's, and all of the other film studios with their stuff from their very start of when the company was first ever made besides from leading to all of the ones that we have currently have so far in the present way before we get to see with all of the stuff that we will be able to get in the future otherwise if we do any of these things that I just listed in here, and whatever else I did not list it in here at all, it will be like how it was last year! :

: It will be able to have us being able to get ready on the red carpet to be able to return in style for almost all of us to be able to go this summer to a theatrical preview press screening world premiere event at the Cannes Festival on this upcoming Saturday, May/27th/2023 (it is somewhere in France, but I do not know what the exact address is it going to be able to take place in along with all of the directions for being able to know how to get there along with myself not being able to know who is going to be able to be in this event yet nor of being able to know what is going to be able to be the time of when it is going to be able to at its very start of when everything is being set up while all of the people that are going to be there are coming along with being able to open to us in the public to the very end of when it will be able to be closed for when we go back to where we left the parking spot on the way to there while all of the lot other people that were there are all gone for good) ! :

: (Extra posters, and advertising stuff for the movie 👇!) :

:

:

: (I wonder where this image is from what video 👇!) :

: (I still wonder where these images is from what video 👇!) :

: (I know that we all have seen the image on the right whenever we see it on the internet, or wherever it is put in, but I really wonder where this image on the left is from what video 👇!) :

:

:

: Meet Wendi McLendon-Covey also known as the real voice over actor who plays as Gale Cumulus! :

: 1st ever cosplay for the movie as seen from 👇, let's go? :

:

: This is the place where these two from 👆 got it from 👇! :

: : (I am curious about where this image is from what video 👇!) :

: (Please be able to let me know where this image is from what video 👇!) :

:

: (Behind the scenes of Pixar's Elemental, and all of the other past 20 something movies, or so from the brand 👆!) :

: (👆 New tv spot commercial for the movie, same old footage from all of the other stuff that we had before we just got this one here from YouTube!) :

: (I really still wonder where this image is from what video 👇!) :

: (I wish to be able to wonder where this image is from what video 👇!) :

: (I guess that Gale Cumulus was on American Idol after all as shown 👇 for being able to help out with this message on a sign carried by Clod, Ember Lumen, and Wade Ripple (not meaning that saying that this sign says that someone is on fire, since because of Ember Lumen made of this material of a little way to put it, but in a figurative way to be able to say that to someone who is either very enthusiastic, excited, or passionate about something (there are a lot of ways to explain the figurative way to someone who is on fire, but you can be able to get the gist of what I just mean though I am curious about who Wade Ripple, Gale Cumulus, Clod, and Ember Lumen are saying to with the sign 👇) ) !) :

: (I really really wonder where this image is from what video 👇!) :

: (Avoid the other character costumes that are not from Pixar's Elemental 👇 including with all of the images provided by Google, but still save them for all of that original source material from which movie, or so they are from!) :

:

: (I really still am curious where this image is from what video 👇!) :

:

:

:

: Meet Mason Wertheimer, also known as the real voice over actor who plays as Clod, 👇! :

:

:

:

: Here is the movie being able to be advertised on a bench! : I was wrong that today was hopefully going to be able to be better than yesterday, but it turns out that this day pretty much more boring like how it was yesterday, but I still feel like tomorrow, Friday, May/26th/2023 might be able to start to be able to get all of the things back to normal! :

[tuulikannel]

I found a couple of ancient plot bunnies from the dusty depths of my computer. One of them is a Hikago fic called By the Book. I don’t remember details anymore too clearly (that file is from 2010…) but someone once told (probably) in the Hikago community either on LJ or DW that they’d got one of those phishing emails, from someone who’d supposedly been hired to assassinate them. This “assassin” had taken pity on them, and for some reason or another needed money to save their live or whatever. And… it was signed Tsutsui. xD

Someone commented that Tsutsui would never do something like this, it had to go against the assassins’ guidebook to betray your employer like this. And that was the birth of this bunny.

*sigh* I just… have no idea at all where I possibly was going with this. The gang, who are members of the Assassin’s Guild (clearly influenced by C.J. Cherryh’s Foreigner books) are hanging together in a pub. Hikaru and Akira are fighting, Isumi and Waya are playing a game, Kaga is grumpily waiting for his partner to arrive, Nase is by herself – apparently she has lost her partner recently, whoever that was. (Based on my notes, I was planning to make Akari her new partner later.)

And then Tsutsui arrives at the place all shaken and claims that someone had tried to assassinate him on the way.

“Look!” He pulled out a book from his bag, a thin black-covered booklet with no title on it. There was a hole in one corner of the book, going through the cover and a few pages. “It was this close!” “Why…” Kaga said slowly as he took the book in his hand to examine it, “did you have the guidebook in your hand when you were out there?” “Oh, I… I was just, checking…” “You don’t walk around with your nose in a book out there!” Kaga exclaimed, slamming the book to the table. “Especially not in the damn alleys! Besides, you know you’re not supposed to be carrying this in public places. If something happens and you have to leave it behind…” “I know, I know,” Tsutsui muttered. “I just… I’m not confident without it, yet.”

And then they head out to check the place where this happened… and I’ve no idea where I was going with this. And I doubt I’ll continue this, ever… I just found this assassin Tsutsui such a funny concept I wanted to share. ^^;;

[denimbex1986]

For the past month, I’ve gone to the State Theatre every single weekend. As a self-proclaimed lover of film and cinema, I have made it my personal mission to watch every new movie featured on the big screen. There is something sacred about watching a movie the way it is intended to be watched, with a large Diet Coke in hand and a roomful of people all prepared for a life-altering experience.

I truly love going to the movies. When everyone is collectively laughing, crying, clapping and gasping at the story unfolding before us, I cannot help but feel connected to something larger than myself. But the crux of this past month is not that I’ve watched a new movie every weekend, but that every time I’ve gone to the movie theater filled with people, I have been by myself.

It started with “All of Us Strangers,” a movie starring Andrew Scott (“Fleabag”) and Paul Mescal (“Normal People”) centered in magical realism. I was enamored by the mystery encapsulated in the trailer and was eager to see it unfold on the big screen. But, on that fateful Saturday evening, I had no one to go to the theater with, as my friends and roommates were busy with the beginning moments of the semester. At first, I bid farewell to my plans of an evening at the theater, resigning instead to spend the evening alone in my apartment eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream. But I really wanted to see that movie. I mean, it was Paul Mescal! So I decided to attend by myself. Treating the occasion as grandiose when it was anything but, I got dressed up, wearing my favorite blue sweater and dotting blush on my cheeks to make myself feel better about going alone. I wanted to feel good about myself, hoping that the swipes of mascara would settle the nerves beginning to build up in my mind. Donning my coat and wireless headphones, I went on my way, enjoying the crisp January night and trying to ignore the subsequent anxiety rising in my chest.

In theory, going to the movies by myself sounded fun — an alleviation to a Saturday night that would have otherwise been spent alone at home — but I was worried about how others would perceive me. Would they see me standing in line to get my popcorn and feel pity that I was obviously alone on a weekend night? Would observers be confused and stare openly at me in an attempt to decipher my motives? But, as I bought my ticket and a pack of Reese’s Pieces, I realized that no one really paid attention to me. To my surprise, as I sat down in my seat, there were other people in the audience who were also by themselves. By the end of the movie, every doubt I’d previously held had slowly eroded. I went to the movies alone because I was lonely. And I left the movies alone, but perhaps slightly less lonely.

I feel a profound connection to the individuals also present in the movie theater with me. How special is it that we all chose to see this particular movie at this particular time? For the rest of our lives, however far we roam, we will always be bound by this one point in time that we shared. It keeps the loneliness at bay and instead offers me the opportunity to appreciate the people around me, with their complex lives, thoughts and emotions that I will never get the chance to understand. I wonder what brings them to the movies by themselves on a Friday or Saturday night, but then I realize that it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we made it and are seated, ready to be transported to another world. That first venture to the movies by myself changed me in a way I cannot fully explain.

Going to the movies by yourself is hard; doing anything by yourself can be hard. Sometimes, it feels as if there is a spotlight on me or a blaring announcement above my head: “Look! She’s here all by herself! What a loser!” But at the same time, it is wildly addicting, therapeutic even. In that theater, with a Diet Coke and Reese’s Pieces to keep me company, I was surrounded by people, yet also solitude. I felt more connected to my feelings than anywhere else. It reminds me that I may be there alone, but that is not particularly a bad thing. And what I love about the movies is that it is truly not a social enterprise. Of course, it is fun to go with your friends, share popcorn and provide commentary about the movie you chose to watch. But more than that, the movie theater is a place to feel separate from the rest of the world while also being enclosed with a group of strangers all seeking the same reprieve, a togetherness in a separateness that is oddly comforting.

Going to the movies alone helps me forget my loneliness. Thoughts of being alone on a weekend night dissipate from my mind as I allow myself to be fully immersed in the spectacle I sought out. As the lights dim, I put my phone on do not disturb and can finally enjoy a singular moment in time where no one can reach me. My focus narrows to the characters on the screen and the popcorn in my hand; I am a vessel in which the stories, characters and visuals pour into me. And there is nothing that I have to give in return.

Let me make this clear: Going to the movies by myself did not make me fully comfortable with being alone. Doing things by myself is still an uncomfortable experience. But in that discomfort, I honed a newfound appreciation for my original loneliness, as it brought me to the movies by myself in the first place. I have gone to the movies by myself every weekend after that, watching movie after movie and taking pleasure in the company of myself and other untethered souls.

Yet, despite the routine that I’ve grown to love, when anyone asks me what I’m doing on a Friday or Saturday night, I lie and say I’m going to the movies with a friend. I feel embarrassed to admit that I am spending the night by myself — on purpose, no less — as I’m too aware of what others may think of me. College is a very social enterprise; the pattern of our lives revolves around being social and forming connections with people. Between classes, clubs and other commitments, it is hard not to feel like your entire life is composed of social endeavors upon social endeavors. Furthermore, if you live on campus or close to campus, it becomes even harder to separate college as a whole from the rest of your life. There is this unspoken pressure to constantly be doing something with other people, whether that be studying in the library, eating dinner in the dining hall or sitting in lecture. I think this is due to unrealistic expectations regarding the college experience perpetuated by the media or feeling like everyone around you has it all figured out – social circles and all. Thus, it is hard to not feel embarrassed and ashamed when you do something by yourself, either intentionally or unintentionally, because of this unrealistic expectation that you should be social all the time.

Funnily enough — despite this unspoken pressure to be social at all times — loneliness persists on college campuses. According to data from the National College Health Assessment, 53.6% of college students reported being lonely in spring 2022, a statistic that surprised me, because I feel like loneliness in college is not really talked about. But while it seems like everyone is constantly doing things with other people and being social, the reality is that everyone still does things alone or is alone on a daily basis. It can be hard to make genuine connections in college. I personally hoped to meet the girls that will be my bridesmaids, friends that I can spend every waking moment with just because I enjoy their presence, people that will remain in my life for years after we graduate. However, most of us are still trying to figure out who we are as individuals and how to operate in a completely different environment than we are used to at home. We meet tons of people, but many of them we do not instantly click with or we see once with the promise of meeting once again, only for that pledge to fade into nothingness. Finding “your people” takes time and is difficult given the changing environment of college: Classes, interests and what we choose to invest our time in are not constants, making it hard to yield permanent results from them. Being lonely in college is normal and, in my opinion, a routine yet unspoken part of the college experience. But there is a stigma about doing things alone that makes individuals, such as myself, feel pathetic from time to time. It is hard not to feel bad when you admit to doing something by yourself, as it’s brushed under the table, which is why I go so far as to fib about my solo outings. I don’t want anyone to know how alone I feel, even if that is exactly what I am.

It is hard to be lonely in college, to feel that you are lacking something that so many people appear to have. But loneliness is normal, and I think it is what you do with that loneliness that counts. So I strongly encourage you, whether you are lonely or simply have nothing better to do, to go to the movies alone. It will be scary, and you might be hyper aware of every glance inadvertently sent your way. But I promise, it is not that bad. You may go into the theater with a profound sense of loneliness, but you might leave with a profound sense of connection.'

[thesefourwallsstory]

Part 1

It's a rainy Tuesday afternoon, I'm riding the train home from work as always. Thinking about the approaching bliss of being able to lay down in my bed; I doze off and begin monologuing. 

I suppose I should properly introduce myself, my name is Ren Fukushima, I’m pushing 23 and I’m caught up in an office job I’ll probably never get out of. I’ve got short black hair that stays relatively unkempt most of the time and my eyes are grey. My hope is to get a chance to return to university and study something that actually interests me, not like I actually know what that would be. To be totally honest though, I’m not sure what I want from my life, no matter how much money I may make I don’t think that’ll magically make me happy. I’ve spent the better half of 3 years in this apartment complex scraping together what I can to move out to a more urban area to hopefully get a better job. But, it looks like for now that's just a fruitless dream, my savings get eaten up any time something unexpected happens, like my phone deciding to break or my old laptop offing itself. I don’t get how some people do it, just put on a brave face and act like nothing is wrong, like they aren’t horribly dissatisfied with everything in their life. I’m still a young guy, not even 25 and I’m crippled by my lack of proper social interaction. I haven’t made any friends since leaving high school and God knows I’ve never been asked out. I’m a lonely, sad loser and at this point I don’t even receive pity.

 Without any warning, the outside noise slips into my head. "Now arr..... at .....oshi Station '' still half asleep I can hardly make out the words. "Last call for Togoshi Station '', "SHIT". I quickly scoop up my bag and rush to the exit, barely managing to squeeze through the doors before the train takes off. I catch my breath for a moment, pull out my umbrella, and begin making my way to my apartment. 

Oh god the apartment, the daydreams of a comfy night with peace and quiet are shattered as I recall the horrors of my next door neighbor and “his” awful, AWFUL guitar. I hurriedly make my way home and retire to my little slice of solitude before "he" gets home as well. I lay in my bed and scroll through Twitter, hoping desperately one or two of my few remaining friends will reach out to help keep me sane. But the messages never come and soon the thoughts in my head are replaced with a deafening silence. I lay still, hoping sleep takes me before either my thoughts overwhelm me or "he" does. 

My phone vibrates and for a moment I’m hopeful, then it turns out to be another spam text, “Ren-kun, I miss you sooooooo much, I just want you to touch me and………” it went on for a while with “her” telling me all sorts of things that no sane person would just say phishing for me to sign up for some scummy website where I’d find the “girl of my dreams”. Sure I’m lonely, but I’m not that lonely. 

My train of thought is suddenly violated by the sound of a truly awful timbre, “he” is home. Let me tell you about this guy, first off, as we've established, “he” is my neighbor, normally I don't mind my neighbors but this one, well he defied all my expectations. I thought being quiet and respectful to other tenants was just common courtesy but this man, he just doesn't know when to stop, he's loud and rambunctious, always talking like he wants the whole damn ward to hear him whenever he has someone over, which mind you, is nearly every day. He's always got one of his work buddies, drinking friends, or a girl over and he just doesn't know how to shut it. And don't even get me started on his guitar, that horrid instrument brings nothing but abject pain into my life. But I've run dry of the energy to mindlessly rant anymore, I've slept through those damn strings before, I'll do it again. Before I realize it, I’m already asleep.

[camisnotes]

CyberTraining CyberSecurity

Working at a SaaS company that handles user data I often encounter many types of malicious attempts to get this data. Our work does deep training on Phishing and Smishing that I found this training to be entirely accurate to what I've already learned about InfoSec.

I enjoyed the password modules as it forced me to realize just how easy it is to brute force guess a password if it's too simple. I was happy to learn more about cyber attacks using social engineering like the phone calls that pressure you into sharing private information or strangers in the office using pity to use a USB to get into the system. These are the type of cybercrime we rarely hear about as regular internet users since we are not often as big of a target as large corporations.

I was shocked at the plot twist of Jamie being the one causing the cyber attacks because it made me realize how easy it would be to break past a company's firewall with a single employee.

Data is so important and it is the corporations responsibility to update and maintain their system so as to protect it.

[wizkiddx]

living and reviving II

yep when I said three parts I think I meant 4 oops

summary: an overdue conversation that has to happen - like it or not

warnings: cheating, swearing, pregnancy talk, lots more angst, think thats it?

tomhollandxreader

/////////////////////// prev

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

That had been three weeks ago.

And it still fucking hurt like hell.

It had ended up that Yamna had taken you back to hers, where you had stayed for a couple nights. During that couple of days, Tom had tried. He had tried to apologise, tried to explain, tried to fix things. But it just wasn’t that easy.

Whatever he said, it didn’t take back from the fact that he had in that moment meant it. So no amount of sorrys could ever take that back.

After everyone had realised just how serious their situation was, Tom had moved out of your shared flat - so you could at least be in the place you were comfortable. Afterall the nursery was built in your flat and clearly it was you doing all the baby stuff for the moment. Thankfully Yamna, having been cut loose so without job, offered to move in with you. Which was probably the only thing keeping you going.

Well, that and ben and jerrys ‘phish food’. Honestly the shop must think you’re running some sort of ice cream black market at the rate you’re getting through their tubs.

Everyone kept parroting that it wasn’t good for the baby. Too much ice cream . Too much heavy lifting. Too much stress.

And yes, it probably was. But that was out of your control . The stress and lack of man in the household meant you had to do the heavy lifting of shopping from the car up the stairs. Shopping meaning ice cream, which you only depended on so much because of the stress.

It was a vicious cycle of hell.

Even Yamna, the person you were relying on keeping you sane had started walking on eggshells. It was as though you were literally about to pop, she always had to have at least half an eye on you. You were even banned from locking the toilet door - just in case.

It felt like you were a captive animal, people kept coming to observe you, giving sad looks before gleeing the scene.

You hadn’t been sleeping well either. Of course, being 3 weeks of your due date didn’t help - but neither did the lack of Tom. In fact, for the first time since shit had hit the fan, you had actually been managing to get some decent sleep when Yamna knocked on your bedroom door, quietly calling your name.

“I’m asleep” Groaning, you pulled the covers further over your head, praying to god that she’d leave you alone. But of course that wasn’t happening, she just lightly chuckled before you felt the bed dip - she had perched on the edge… Toms side.

“You never normally sleep talk.”

“I’m never normally this sleep deprived.” She sighed, whilst you still stubbornly kept your eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I woke you…. but this is important.”

“What?” Almost grunting, you threw the covers down looking up at her in anticipation. That was another thing about pregnancy - you were always on high alert, always worried.

“Toms here.”

“Tell him to f off.” Quickly you stopped caring about what your bestmate had to say.

“He’s saying that he’s the little ones dad and that he deserves to be involved and…. and I think I might agree.”

“I deserve a boyfriend who stays loyal to me so clearly neither of us are getting what we want.” You weren’t angry at Yamna and snapping at her wasn’t the answer. And yet you still did it.

“Y/n….I love you and I am completely on your side. I just think that maybe, perhaps, you should at least manage to be civil before baby arrives. Otherwise… thats going to be a lot to deal with all at once.”

It was your turn to sigh, deep and heavy (or at least as deep as the baby let). Most infuriatingly she was right. The conversation had to happen at some point. With a baby there too it would only be even more traumatic.

“He’s here now?” It only dawned on you how broken you actually sounded when the words croaked out of you.

“Yeh hunny… I didn’t let him inside so he’s standing outside the door looking like a dickhead right now.” The image cheered you up a little, enough to sit up in bed and be wrapped in Yamna’s arms. Her actions said it all, she really only meant the best for you and knew how hard this would be. After a moment she leant back. “I almost considered calling the paps so they could get a picture and label him as a groveling dick.”

“You should of.” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the answer had you both laughing. It took a minute to calm down before she changed subject slightly.

“You want me to make myself scarce? I can hide in my room or go to the shops or-“

“Text the guy from the bar - you deserve a night off ‘babysitting Y/n’ duties.”

“I’m not babys-“

“Yes you are. Go out with him and have some fun, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeh”

That was a bare face lie - but Yamna had been almost too good to you. She really really needed a break. Especially as the current plan was she’d be helping with the newborn too. Right now you wouldn’t have wished a baby on yourself - never mind your best mate.

“Okay, get ready then babe - but do it slowly, leave him waiting outside in the cold for as long as possible.”

“Obviously.” You laughed, hauling yourself out of bed, where she gave you one more encouraging hug before leaving.

After hearing Yamna leave, and brushing your hair and throwing on a new pair of trakkies and hoodie, you slowly walked towards the door. It felt as though impending doom were on the other side and every fibre of you wanted to scream and run the other way. But it just had to happen at some point. Why not now?

With a final sharp exhale, attempting to pull yourself together, you opened the door. Immediately your heart sank, seeing nothing. Had you really been that long? And even so, was a 10 minute wait enough for him to give up? You could already feel the hormonal pregnancy tears starting to spring, when a grunt drew your attention.

What you hadn’t considered was the fact Tom was ready to camp out, sitting on the floor beside your door. Springing to his feet, he seemed shocked you’d actually opened the door - makes two of you. When Yamna left she had told him you were coming, but seeing really is believing.

“Y/n! I-I… I wasn’t sure you were ever going to answer.”

“You and me both.” You replied dryly, still leaning on the door. “Do you er…. do you want to come in?” Again he seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t sure you meant it.

“Is that-that okay?” Shrugging you just nodded, stepping back so he could get in. He did pay half the mortgage afterall.

“You want a drink?” He quickly declined your offer, not vocally but instead rushing past you to the kitchen and turning the kettle on himself.

“Your the pregnant one. Go chill on the sofa, I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

And a bit taken a back by his forcefulness you followed instructions, from the sofa watching how effortlessly he danced round the kitchen. It wasn’t shocking, it was technically his kitchen too. But seeing him there felt so alien, almost transporting you back to much much simpler times. Seemed a lifetime ago.

After a couple of minutes, he rounded the sofa with a hot chocolate in one hand for you (because caffiene is bad for the baby) and a cup of Yorkshire tea in the other.

“So… how have you been?”

“Ate a lot of ben and jerrys” You answered without really answering, except he knew you all too well.

“That bad?” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow “how about the baby?”

“I don’t tend to carry an ultrasound on me but she’s been keeping me up all night kicking - so normal I guess.”

“Thats good” He spoke before realising what he said. “Sorry no I um-I don’t mean it like that!” You all but laughed in the face of his flusteredness, only making the tips of his ears go pinker.

“I assume you had something to say and that you came here for a reason rather than just pity me?”

“I want to make things right Y/n - I-I mean your having my kid.”

“OUR kid”

“ Exactly! And-and I love you too and-“

“Bullshit” You may have murmured it under your breath but you had intended for him to hear.

“Oh come one Y/n, you know that!”

It was like the man was asking to be yelled at.

“Don’t sit there trying to patronise me! I THOUGHT i knew it but then I saw you all over another girl. So yes, I’m calling bullshit.”

“Ugh I… If your not going to even try to hear me out then…”

“Then what Tom? You gonna kick me out. I mean this is your flat after all! Maybe you’d like to dump the mother of your unborn child homeless on the street and forget about us - how’d that sound? I’m sure your fans would blindly applaud you.”

“Listen! Please would you just listen to me.” His voice was loud and tone harsh, making you flinch a little. Not because you were ever worried he’d hurt you - but how this wave of uncomfort shuddered through your body, baby even squirming in discontent. So focused on that you just nodded, shifting back into the sofa.

Tom had noticed your reaction and seeing you seemingly scared of him like that, well it broke his heart. Even more.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to shout, I just…. I really need to try and fix this.” He leaned closer, letting out a thankful breath when you just nodded, as if to say go on.

“I’ve really really missed you… these past couple of weeks I’ve never felt so gulity in my life. Not because of what I did! Well yeh that but-but more how much it hurt you and-“

“Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but let out that little curse of pain as a new wave of pain, which seemed to originate from your lower back, shuddered through you. Tom looked up from where his eyes had been nervously wringing his palms whilst he spoke. Rubbing a hand over your belly you shook your head and motioned for him to continue.

She was just kicking really really hard. Right?

“Uhm yeh so I just wanted to properly tell you everything that happened that night so at least we are on the same page? A-And I’m not going to try and use this an excuse but I had been drinking so-“

Seemingly baby disliked the end of that sentence too, causing another rippling wave to echo through your body, feeling as though a band was pressing tightly round your stomach. With another small curse it forced you to stand up, in the hope that’d ease her. Clearly she was as done with his shit as you were.

“Need a water.” You muttered, already waddling to the kitchen, where you heard Tom follow you immediately - like an inpatient dog.

“Y/n sit down I can-“

He was silenced by you freezing and grabbing his arm tightly - a physical contact he hadn’t been expecting from you.

“Tom… get your phone.” You spoke slowly, still not having dared to have moved an inch - fingers almost white from how tightly you were squeezing his forearm.

“Wha-are you-are you okay?”

“I think my waters just broke. Get the phone. Now.”

~~~ feedback is really appreciated + would love to know what u think as still in the process of writing so can be guided / helped by asks !!! ~~~

taglist: @maraudersandco @@minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @elishi03

[fairest]

Favorite music 2021

1. Still Feel Like a Kid, Dawes: At their sold-out show at the Vic we all screamed the chorus to ‘When My Times Comes.’ Even more than the chorus, the lyric: “yes, you can stare into the abyss, but it's staring right back .” It was one of the few times this year I was able to unclench my fist of grief and let some of the ashes fall out. They opened with this song from last year’s album — “I finally learned what Nasdaq meant but I still feel like a kid.”

2. Losing a Whole Year, Third Eye Blind: for the second year in a row! Listened to this on the way back from Racine. Didn’t pack the right clothes. Technicolor blast beats.

3. Alameda Apartments, Neal Francis: perfect Rundgrenesque roll for almost any single origin mood.

4. Soft Spot, Claud: In my soul I shazamed this in a coffee shop. In my brain the coffee shop was still to-go.

5. To some I’m genius, Snow Ellet: Ideal bedroom sound from a son.

6. A Kick in the Face (That’s Life), The Reds, Pinks, and Purples: Ideal bedroom sound from a dad. Remember San Francisco?

7. Shame, Cassandra Jenkins: listened to this live album from Foxen Canyon on repeat when we had OG covid. Almost like being there. “Isn’t it a shame...”

8. Dark But Just a Game, Lana del Rey: not even the best song on this album but the perfect example of an LDR song. S(l)ick beat drop before the second verse.

9. Billie Bossa Nova, Billie Ellish: “Love when it comes without a warning.”

10. New Light, John Mayer: great retro cover of an original song. This is why hipsters don’t like Phish.

11. Kind Of, Faye Webster: soundtrack to the morning of drunkenness Rimbaud was toasting with Verlaine. Behold the time of the Faye Websters.

12. Jody, A Girl Called Eddy: Like a rainy Ninth Avenue with light traffic on the FDR drive during a midnight flight home from Boston window seat last row thunderstorms.

13. Secret Life, Bleachers (ft. Lana del Rey): my favorite Oasis song in some time. If you despise Lana del Rey you can barely hear her here. I listen to this on Divvys.

14. Black Hair, Jerskin Fendrix: Found this artist b/c I thought I was in the mood to listen to a new recording of Schubert’s Winterresie. This artist named their 2020 album Winterresie, the first song is called Manhattan. Turned out I was actually in the mood for Jerskin Fendrix, an under-discovered savant in the Dirty Projectors mold. (Went back to the Ian Bostridge / Leif Ove Andsnes Schubert the next time I was in the mood.)

15. Falling out the Sky, Armand Hammer (ft. Earl Sweatshirt): The end of childhood isn’t a death sentence, admit three.

16. Twin Plagues, Wednesday: feedback on two Alice in Chains-y chords—the twin plagues of the title, perhaps? Feels like the first time you join a band and plug into the studio’s amp. If you like the band Thursday, you might like this band Wednesday.

17. Change, Big Thief: new ballad from America’s finest. “Death / like space  / the deep sea / a suitcase.”

18. Willie Dunn, I Pity the Country: Trailbreaking indigenous artist Willie Dunn gets new posthumous release in 2021. “The Bill of Rights throws me In jails.”

[kyra45]

Quick tips to scam spotting yet again

- Pinned post is a couple of hours old, a day old, or even a week old. Sometimes it’s very old but has changed if you check older reblogs.

- You got an ask asking you to answer privately because people are being weird about donation asks and they don’t want people thinking you was pressured into sharing the post.

- There are missing replies/reblogs in the pinned post. These may have been asking the op questions or calling them out for being a scam.

- The blog only has a few posts and never posts anything else besides updates. These posts are usually trending topics or popular posts and always come from the op with no tags.

- Blog has no prior interaction with you but also follows you and immediately sends an ask. They may do the same to everyone you interact with. They act like their your friend but their just a liar who doesn’t care about hurting those who really need support. They want your pity. Don’t give it to them. They don’t need it.

- May eventually have a comment saying their account is messing up so give money to a relative instead. There is no relative nor ever was. It’s still them. They reuse older accounts when one has issues.

- Most commonly a pet but on occasion it’s a person pretending to be black/trans/etc needing help. Usually it’s pretty evident that their lying when they have no real defense when proof is shown their being deceptive such as linking to a real fundraiser they copied or asking them why their posts are backdated to a year ago while notes show the posts are only two days old.

- Will refuse to answer anyone’s legitimate concerns and instead get agitated and say your just talking nonsense. Even if you just ask them a simple question that relates to the contents of their posts in a friendly fashion. Most people don’t mind answering nicely worded concerns.

Lastly, to report scams:

Report -> Something else -> Illegal uses or Content -> Phishing

Please share this post and help me bring awareness to scammers using tumblr. If you see someone sharing a scam who isn’t calling it out, please let them know and explain how it’s a scam but be nice about it.

Also yes. People do fall for scams. Also always take caution when sending people money. Not everyone is a scammer it’s just a few are and they ruin the reputation of legitimate users.

[doyelikehaggis]

Oh my gosh think about Lizzie being sad around the school post ep and bumping into Kaleb and they bond and he cheers her up

Hi!! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get to this. For context, this was about episode 6! (I think...) BUT I WROTE A THING FOR IT!! I'll put it below a "read more"! Thank you for this idea, anon, I love it so much!! (I'm actually tempted to write a little more for it...) 🧡

Lizzie lets the smile slide from her face only when she hears MG close his door behind her. Each step away feels heavier and heavier, and she has no idea where she’s even going. Back to her room seems to be the only option she has left now, but she also really doesn’t want to be reminded that Josie has left her by seeing her side of the room with all of her stuff. 

MG doesn’t want to spend time with her. She can’t exactly blame him; did she really just expect him to be sitting there waiting for her to finally be ready for him? Of course he said no. And Hope has a new friend. One who actually makes her smile and laugh. Lizzie honestly doesn’t think she’s ever seen her so happy before. 

She takes the stairs instead, walking into the kitchen. After all, she never got her ice cream. She finds the two bowls surprisingly still there, the ice cream perfectly intact thanks to the freezing spell she placed over them. Maybe she had been hoping that MG would take her up on her offer for just a late-night talk and she could suggest ice cream, and it would be there waiting for them already. 

Now she has two bowls and only one of her. With how she’s feeling, that’s probably better. 

Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, she siphons the spell back off of one of the bowls and hops up on the counter. Then she digs in with a desolate sigh. 

“I don’t know what’s more depressing,” a voice says from the doorway, and Lizzie looks over at Kaleb, standing there and eyeing her with pity, “the fact that you’re eating ice cream alone when there’s another bowl, or the fact that you’re doing it in the kitchen, in silence, at…” he checks his watch and raises his eyebrows, “... a quarter to midnight.”

Lizzie lowers her bowl into her lap with a shrug, swallows the lump of ice cream, and shrugs, saying bleakley, “Both. You just summed up my life, so.”

Kaleb’s eyebrows hike up higher and he sucks in air through his teeth. “Yeesh. That bad?”

He walks past her to get to the fridge, presumably for a late-night blood bag. 

Lizzie scoffs and stabs her ice cream with her spoon. Then she sighs again and says, “No, it’s just… this school is a mess. We only just have enough students to even qualify as a school! We’re probably in god knows how much debt at this point, which, I kinda thought would be enough for my mom to come back and fix, you know? After all, she is headmistress, yet somehow she’s just fine letting my dad make mess after mess of this place, and—”

“And you miss Josie.”

Kaleb closes the fridge, blood-bag in hand. He sends Lizzie a small smile when she looks over at him, and she deflates, because…

“Yeah,” she breathes out as Kaleb joins her at the counter, but leans against it instead. “I really, really miss her. And I hate myself for it, because she’s probably so happy there, and this is what she wants, and she has spent years doing what I want, so… I should be able to support her on this. Shouldn’t I?”

Kaleb shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah, you should,” he says, but to her surprise he continues, “but it makes sense that you’re gonna miss her like crazy. You two have never been apart. Like… ever. So, yeah, it’s gonna suck that she’s not here, and you’re allowed to be sad about it. So long as you accept that she's gonna do it anyway."

Lizzie stares at him. She wants to be glaring — she probably would have if this was a year ago, and she’d probably throw some snarky remark at him to cover up the fact that he’s right and she’s in denial. But she can only mush her ice cream sadly because she’s not in denial anymore and nod, looking down at her lap.

“I just…” She forces out a chuckle, closing her eyes. “Ugh, and I’m doing it again!”

“Doing what?” Kaleb asks, his brow crumpling. 

“Using people as my own therapists! I did it to MG for, like, two years, and now he’s pushing me away because of it. I did it to Josie our entire lives and she left. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why my dad prefers Hope over me, or why my mom won’t even return to the freaking country! And I’m still doing it to you! Oh my god.” She waves a hand at him. “You should go before I need to start paying you. Seriously, please.”

But Kaleb laughs. Not in a cruel, ridiculing way, but in a confused and slightly exasperated way. He doesn’t leave. Instead, he sets his blood bag down on the counter.

“You’re not using me,” he tells her. “Trust me, if I didn’t want to listen, I would’ve been out of here in a second.”

Lizzie just presses her lips together and gives a doubtful hum. It’s not fair that she keeps doing this. She just starts unloading without thinking, and people stick around because they feel bad for her. 

“Hey, we all need to vent sometimes,” Kaleb says, adopting a gentler tone when he realizes she doesn’t believe him. He gives her leg a little nudge with his elbow. “I got rejected today, if it’s any consolation, so I could use some free therapy time, too.”

Lizzie can’t help looking back over at him at that, but does at least try and put up a fight against her surprise. She fails. “Really? You were rejected? I mean, I understand MG rejecting me, but who the hell rejected you? Oh god, don’t tell me you tried with Alyssa again, I have had enough of that witch.”

It’s Kaleb’s turn for surprise but he does nothing to try and hide it. “Hold up. Rewind. MG rejected you? MG? My boy, MG, who spent all last summer talkin’ about you?”

“No need to rub it in,” Lizzie says bitterly, but there’s a small smile twitching the corners of her lips. “But come on. Fair’s fair. I’ll only tell you about my embarrassing rejection if you tell me yours.”

“So, you’ll show me yours if I show you mine?” Kaleb teases, cracking a grin. 

Lizzie rolls her eyes even as a laugh escapes her. She flicks her wrist; a drawer across the room opens and a spoon comes zooming out into her hand, the drawer closing back over. 

“Grab a spoon and take a seat, Mr. Hawkins,” she says with mock-seriousness. 

He laughs and shakes his head at her like she’s crazy — but in the good way. The kind of crazy that makes people smile so much they can’t stop until their face hurts. The kind of crazy that they want to be around because it’s fun and a little contagious and feels sorta like safety in a weird way. And the thought that he could feel any of that around her makes her feel a little less of the bad kind of crazy. 

Accepting the spoon from her, Kaleb hops up one of the stools, his leg brushing hers every time he moves. She doesn’t mind, just pushes the second bowl of ice cream across the counter and siphons the freezing spell off of it. 

“Go ahead,” she says, waving a hand at him, before digging back into her ice cream. 

“Cleo,” Kaleb says. 

Lizzie’s eyebrows raise and she hums around her mouthful of ice cream. She isn’t shocked. It was pretty obvious he had a thing for her the second he offered to try and get her to enroll at the school. And it was pretty obvious by the way she looked at him that her decision to stay was not going to be because of him.

“Maybe she just needs some time,” Lizzie suggests, shrugging. “After all, she only just got here. It’s gonna take some time to get used to this place. Maybe once she gets to know you?”

“Maybe,” Kaleb agrees, though he doesn’t sound too bothered. 

Lizzie frowns. “Or not? Do you not like her?”

“Nah, of course I like her,” Kaleb says, rolling his eyes, mushing his ice cream. Lizzie notices that he’s doing that thing where you make it smoother by mixing it a bit, the same way she does. “I just… it’s like you said. I don’t really know her, so it’s not… that big of a deal? She’s cute, and she’s interesting, and I could definitely catch some real feelings if she was into it, too. But at the same time, I’d rather just… get to know her.”

Nodding, Lizzie shrugs again. “That’s not a bad thing.” She pauses, narrowing her eyes jokingly. “So, technically you didn’t really get rejected. I should be taking that ice cream back.”

Kaleb pulls his bowl away from her with a look of offence. “How dare you try and take away my ice cream privileges. I am heartbroken!”

Lizzie arches an eyebrow. She just smiles and doesn’t argue as Kaleb smiles back, finally eating some of the ice cream. As soon as he does, he stops, making a face. 

“What — what is this?” he asks, a note of disgust in his voice. “Is this… peanut butter?”

“It’s Netflix & Chill’d!” Lizzie says. Then, when Kaleb just continues to stare in confusion, “Ben and Jerry’s? Peanut butter, pretzels, and brownie?” 

Kaleb just tilts his head and she scoffs.

“Have you never had Ben and Jerry’s before?!” she asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah! But it was, like… chocolate! You know, the one with the little chocolate fish? And, uh — the cookie dough one! You know, normal flavours. Good flavours.”

Wrinkling her nose, Lizzie says, “You qualify Phish Food as a good flavour?”

Now he’s staring at her like she’s the two-heads kind of crazy. It’s still not bad, she notes quietly, and warmly. It’s actually taking a lot of her self-control not to grin. 

“It’s chocolate and marshmallow!” Kaleb says. “How can you hate that?!”

“How can you hate peanut butter, pretzels, and brownies?” she counters. 

“Because that is way too salty!” 

“Oh, sorry, would you like a little more iron with that?”

They both pause. And then Kaleb starts laughing, and it’s like the first domino has been gently pushed as Lizzie starts laughing, too. Arguing over superior ice cream flavours at midnight is definitely better than eating them alone. 

Despite his complaints, Kaleb still loads his spoon with more ice cream and eats it as if giving it another go will change his opinion. Lizzie watches him curiously. His nose wrinkles again and she presses her lips together to hold back another laugh — a giggle — because seeing him trying to act like it tastes good is actually kind of adorable. 

He swallows and shakes his head. “Mhm. Nope.”

“There’s cookie dough in the freezer,” Lizzie tells him, putting him out of his misery. “It was Jo’s favourite as well, she always made Dad buy in at least two tubs in case of emergencies.”

“An ice cream emergency?” Kaleb questions.

Lizzie gestures around them, then at her own bowl. 

Kaleb nods. “Enough said.” He points at the second bowl as he gets up to move over to the freezer. “What about that?”

“Considering my day, two bowls seems fair,” Lizzie tells him. 

She dumps the contents of the second one into her own as Kaleb gives another chuckle. He retrieves the tub of cookie dough ice cream from the freezer and returns. When he takes a spoonful of it, his nose doesn’t wrinkle, and he gives a contented sigh and smiles, nodding to himself. 

“Now that,” he points his spoon at the tub, “that is good ice cream.”

“Honestly, you have no taste,” Lizzie jokes. “In anything except fashion. That, at least, I can respect.”

“I could say the same for you,” Kaleb quips. He glances up at her from beneath his eyelashes and maybe her heart gives a little flutter as a sly smile twists across his lips. 

She narrows her eyes, hiding it. Except he can hear it. But that doesn’t matter, she tells herself, because it’s nothing anyway. Probably brain freeze getting to her. Just… in her chest, instead.

“Agree to disagree,” she says. 

“Fine by me.” Kaleb then nods at her expectantly. “Right. Come on. Your turn.”

Catching on, Lizzie groans. “Oh no, I can’t. It’s humiliating!”

Even as she says it, she’s laughing again as Kaleb persists, trying to pull it out of her. In the end, it actually works, and she spills the whole nightmare to him. He listens. He laughs, of course, but only when she does, and he… doesn’t leave. 

Lizzie finishes both bowls of ice cream and Kaleb gets through his entire tub, then finally gets around to his blood bag as they keep talking. It’s well past midnight — maybe even past one in the morning, she can’t be sure — but neither of them even thinks about leaving. After the day they’ve had — hell, the weeks they’ve had — this was exactly what they both needed. 

[katsukikitten]

Hey... I just got dumped by my boyfriend and I was wondering if I could get something with either Bakugou or Kirishima finding out that the reader was dumped and trying to comfort her but ending up confessing. Sorry if it's too specific

FUCK THAT GUY

YOU DONT NEED HIM SIS! BYE BOI BYE

I know it's hard right now but every shitty thing happens to make way for something new and something ten times better. I'm sending my love and here is an emergency fic for you. Depending on time I might add kiri later. XOXO -kitten

"Wow really stopping for 'water'." He growls but you pay him no mind. More than eager to check your phone to see what your boyfriend is up to.

"Can it Bakubastard." A hiss as you phish your phone from your bag, unlocking it in a swift motion before the whole world stills.

And then stops.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you read the text message for what feels like the thousandth time in the span of a few nanoseconds.

Breathing suddenly becomes difficult as your vision blurs, a cold sweat settling over your skin as your heart detaches itself. Splitting in two just to rest like a brick in your stomach and a throbbing lump in your throat.

You choke and it quickly turns into a broken sob as you read aloud what was possibly the worst news you could receive from someone you loved so dearly.

And had spent so much of the past two years with.

"I've found someone else.....Good bye forever Y/N."

No.

Nononononononononononononononono

FUCKING NO!

You didn't fight this hard to keep this relationship afloat just for it to fucking fail. Fat droplets mix with sweat as they run down your cheeks, what was meant to be a quick break in training had turned into a nightmare.

Your breathing hitches as an angry tremor shakes your frame.

Scarlet eyes notice your rigid stance and borderline panting. He notes you're breathing much too hard and much too abnormally for it to be from exertion.

"Oi, brat!" He yells, growing impatient as you choose to give your phone all your attention.

Attention you should be giving him instead of your shitty boyfriend.

"What you can't handle the heat, Princess?!" He taunts stepping dangerously closer, deadly palm reached out to grasp your shoulder.

He doesn't normally like to touch people and even rarer is he jealous that the attention is not on him despite his showy attitude.

You look to him, eyes clouded with numb tears as shock begins to settle in, his touching you brings you back to Earth only for it to crumble beneath your feet. His eyes widen and for a moment he thinks he is the cause of your tears but when scarlet eyes spot that damned contact with heart emojis by the name he begins to see red.

Red that deepens when he actually READS the text displayed on your screen. You lock it quickly, wiping at the tears that spill over.

"Its nothing. Its fucking nothing." You answer before he can explode, "Just fucking fight me you asshole."

You shove him back into the training circle feeling angrier pushing down the sadness that bubbles to the surface.

He wants to tell you no, that fighting while emotionally impaired is worse than fighting drunk but as he watches your delicately powerful form get into stance he growls. Mirroring your movement and allowing you the first move.

You lunge fist raised only for it to be caught. Using the stopped inertia to your advantage you quickly grab hold of his forearm to hold yourself as you swing your left leg high.

Your foot connects beautifully to his toned forearm instead of that damned face. He narrows his eyes no longer wearing a taunting smirk as he become serious.

He wraps a muscled arm around your lifted leg and your own forearm, twisting his body to build momentum.

Spinning around once flinging you into the air backed by a powerful explosion.

You somersault, hands instinctively grasping for something before you take in a deep breath.

Landing on your feet like a cat, lunging again and this time with more wrath.

More rage as the text burns into your retinas pounding your solid fists into Bakugo's forearms shaped in an X.

Sending enough force it reverberates through your own bones, skin blooming in deep splotches of purple beneath your own moody knuckles.

Bakugo does nothing to counter, seeing each opening you have and choosing not to attack.

Waiting for you to tire yourself out which comes quickly, as you send your last fist, hearing your boyfriend, or should you say EX boyfriend's voice velvet soft in your ear.

"I'll love you until the end of time."

"I've found someone else."

Mixing the phrases together until your stomach clenches and the bubbling sadness finally erupts in the form of hot tears.

The fist connects causing dust to plume in the air as he slides back a couple of inches. Scarlet still glued to you as he watched your body shudder, before it quakes, knuckles still kissing forearms before you finally crumble body shaking from the weight of your tears.

From the weight of your heartbreak while soft eyes watch the strongest person he knew crumble before him.

You let your arm fall and then he encircles you with his own. You cling to him then, knuckles turning white as they fist his quickly dampening shirt. Shoving your face into tense muscles as you openly sob.

Loudly enough it attracts other students only for them to shy away once they get a glimpse of the death stare that Bakugou serving. That and his deadly aura in general. If it could he seen it would be an all consuming black and deep blood red as his murderous intent floods the universe.

But he can't just go out and murder this asshole right now, you need him.

You really fucking needed him, slowly your tears dry up as you hic, gasping for breath feeling utterly stupid to cling to someone who probably barely considers you a friend.

"Bakugou...I'm sorry I..." He squeezes you tighter to him, growling as he does.

"No, FUCK THAT GUY! Don't apologize for what that shit bird did. He's a fucking idiot to let you go."

"Y...you're just saying that." Blush creeps in your cheeks as your proximity to Bakugo becomes painfully obvious. You swallow thickly worried he's only giving you pity instead of his normal gruff self. He scoffs before taking in a deep breath.

"I'm not just fucking saying that. You know I don't lie to spare people's feelings. I fucking mean what I say. Always." He bites out venom aimed wholly at someone he's never had the displeasure to have met, "I would never pull this bullshit with you. As much as you piss me off your smile makes me happy. And I'll do anything to protect your smile, Princess."

Your heart beats on the ribs in your chest, banging on its boned cage desperately wanting to be free. He presses venom soaked lips tenderly onto your forehead.

You breath out a shaky sigh but he goes on.

"You don't have to return my feelings anytime soon. Or hell maybe you won't ever feel that way about this Bakubastard just know that I'll protect you. I will *win* for you and be sure you win too. Cause I've always been your Bakubastard."