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#or 50 which is the number of times they said in their post as a hyperbole which i can make literal

limelocked · 7 months

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Via: Al Jazeera

Y’all remember when Israel said no no no we didn’t bomb a hospital

Then decided to take credit for bombing a refugee camp claiming that it was for the sake of killing One Guy TM

#palestine #free palestine #free gaza #gaza #israel #this post made due to people being very reactionary over the number 400 #they said after the first bomb that 400 were killed AND wounded which counts both numbers together #while there were alledgedly not 400 but 50 confirmed killed at the time #so thought this was needed same as the Google maps post

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afeelgoodblog · 1 month

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The Best News of Last Week

1. A branch of the flu family tree has died and won't be included in future US vaccines

A type of flu virus that used to sicken people every year hasn't been spotted anywhere on Earth since March 2020. As such, experts have advised that the apparently extinct viruses be removed from next year's flu vaccines.

The now-extinct viruses were a branch of the influenza B family tree known as the Yamagata lineage. Scientists first reported the apparent disappearance of Yamagata viruses in 2021.

2. Hospitals must obtain written consent for pelvic and similar exams, the federal government says

Hospitals must obtain written informed consent from patients before subjecting them to pelvic exams and exams of other sensitive areas — especially if an exam will be done while the patient is unconscious, the federal government said Monday.

New guidance from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services now requires consent for breast, pelvic, prostate and rectal exams for “educational and training purposes” performed by medical students, nurse practitioners or physician assistants.

3. Germany approves new law that will allow adults to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption and store up to 50 grams at home.

Germany's upper house, the Bundesrat, cleared the way to partially legalize cannabis on Friday. Adults aged 18 and over will be allowed to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption.

4. Tick-killing pill shows promising results in human trial | Should it pan out, the pill would be a new weapon against Lyme disease.

Tarsus Pharmaceuticals is developing a pill for humans that could provide protection against the tick-borne disease for several weeks at a time. In February, the Irvine, California–based biotech company announced results from a small, early-stage trial showing that 24 hours after taking the drug, it can kill ticks on people, with the effects lasting for up to 30 days.

5. Thailand moves to legalise same-sex marriage

Thailand has taken a historic step closer to marriage equality after the lower house passed a bill giving legal recognition to same-sex marriage.

It still needs approval from the Senate and royal endorsement to become law but it is widely expected to happen by the end of 2024, making Thailand the only South East Asian country to recognise same-sex unions.

6. French Revolution: Cyclists Now Outnumber Motorists In Paris

Official measurements have found that Paris is rapidly becoming a city of transportation cyclists. In the suburbs, where public transit is less dense, transport by car was found to be the main form of mobility. But for journeys from the outskirts of Paris to the center, the number of cyclists now far exceeds the number of motorists, a huge change from just five years ago.

7. 'Miracle' operation reverses blindness in three-year-old girl giving her 'promising' future

A three year old with a genetic condition that causes blindness is doing incredibly well after unique pioneering operation to restore her sight.

The UK is the only country performing keyhole eye surgery to inject healthy copies of a gene into sufferers’ eyes. It is being used to reverse blindness in children born with a rare condition which means they can only distinguish between light and dark. And it has given little Khadijah Chaudhry, born with Leber congenital amaurosis-4, a chance at seeing properly again.

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That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

#best news of last week

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gottagobuycheese · 3 months

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HEY! YOU!

You've probably heard by now, but from March 4th to 10th 2024, Help Gaza Children will be sending all their donations to families in northern Gaza, where food prices have skyrocketed even more than in the south. Their goal is $25K by the end of the week; at the time of writing this post, it's about halfway a quarter way there! (OG post about it) [EDIT: my mistake, I misinterpreted the numbers in the original post; evidently I cannot do arithmetic anymore]

This is their notion site, which has their donation link as well as additional info, their FAQ, important updates, and proof of purchases from donations they’ve gotten in the past. You can also donate directly to their paypal here.

As such, I'll be open for sketch commissions up from now (March 7th, 2024 ~02:20 PST) through March 10th in exchange for proof of donation to Help Gaza Children!

BASIC OVERVIEW:

Tier 1 - Basic head/bust sketch for $1-5 USD, +50% for basic color. Up to 3 characters.

Tier 2 - Basic screencap resketch for $5-15 USD, +50% for basic color.

Tier 3 - Posed sketch for $15-25 USD, 1-2 characters ONLY.

Tier 4 - Colored clean sketch: $25+ USD, 1-2 characters ONLY.

RULES:

Please provide a visual reference or detailed description of the character(s) you want drawn (and depending on the tier, a screencap or pose/expression you want to go with it)

DO'S: OCs, humans and human-like creatures, other creatures that don't have a lot of mechanical or anatomical detail (as in, I can TRY to do mecha stuff, but I think you and I will both be better of if I don't lol; can ask for further details)

DON'T'S: any NSFW stuff, real people currently alive (as in, historical figures in the setting of historical fiction may be okay, but other things may not be; can ask for further details)

If you've made your donation in a currency that is not USD, I'll give you something of equivalent value according to the tier based on whatever the conversion is at the time that I look it up. If one or both of our economies crashes spectacularly in between the time you send it and the time I look it up, I'm very sorry in advance

DISCLAIMER 1: I reserve the right to decline a commission for any reason; however, if this ends up being the case, I may reach out to you to see if we can come up with a middle ground that suits us both.

DISCLAIMER 2: I don't anticipate being able to do a lot of these, as I've got a full-time job that's in the ballpark ~80+ hours a week with really weird hours. That being said, depending on how far this goes, turnaround time will probably be ~2-3 months, give or take...something. I'll update you monthly until it's done.

FOR PERSONAL, NON-COMMERCIAL USE ONLY!

If you're interested in nabbing a sketch from me in exchange for your donation, email a screenshot (devoid of any personal info please) of your donation receipt and details of your sketch request (e.g. reference, tier, etc.) to [email protected]. For your donation to count for a sketch, it must be made after I wrote this post! (March 7, 2024 ~02:20 A.M. PST)

If you are NOT interested in nabbing a sketch from me, feel free to donate anyway!!

(And if you've got any questions about anything feel free to email, DM, or send an ask!)

#palestine #gaza #helpgazachildren #orv #undertale #commissions #donations #if this inspires even one extra person to donate that wouldn't otherwise have known about it I'll consider that a win #anyways I don't really expect this to go very far outside my circle if at all #so I'd appreciate some help in spreading the word #especially about the main fundraiser #these drawings are really secondary to the whole thing #but if you want to donate AND help a sad partially-art-blocked artist get unblocked! here is your opportunity!#if this goes somewhere I might do it again with other links #otherwise I'll just keep donating privately

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coochiequeens · 1 month

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I know this blog focuses on TIMs invading women’s sports and locker rooms but Saving Women’s Sports means more than that. Like calling out sexist bs when companies give men real clothes to compete in and women get basically underwear.

The Nike Air Innovation Summit in Paris on Thursday.Credit...Dominique Maitre/WWD, via Getty Images

By Vanessa Friedman April 12, 2024

Ever since the Norwegian women’s beach handball team turned the fact that they were required to wear teeny-tiny bikini bottoms for competition into a cause célèbre, a quiet revolution has been brewing throughout women’s sports. It’s one that questions received conventions about what female athletes do — or don’t — have to wear to perform at their very best.

It has touched women’s soccer (why white shorts?), gymnastics (why not a unitard rather than a leotard?), field hockey (why a low-cut tank top?) and many more, including running.

So it probably should not have come as a shock to Nike that when it offered a sneak peek of the Team U.S.A. track and field unies during a Nike Air event in Paris celebrating its Air technology on Thursday (which also included looks for other Olympic athletes, like Kenya’s track and field team, France’s basketball team and Korea’s break dancing delegation), they were met with some less-than-enthusiastic reactions.

See, the two uniforms Nike chose to single out on the mannequins included a men’s compression tank top and mid-thigh-length compression shorts and a woman’s bodysuit, cut notably high on the hip. It looked sort of like a sporty version of a 1980s workout leotard. As it was displayed, the bodysuit seemed as if it would demand some complicated intimate grooming.

Citius Mag, which focuses on running news, posted a photo of the uniforms on Instagram, and many of its followers were not amused.

“What man designed the woman’s cut?” wrote one.

“I hope U.S.A.T.F. is paying for the bikini waxes,” wrote another. So went most of the more than 1,900 comments.

The running comedian Laura Green posted an Instagram reel in which she pretended to be trying on the look (“We’re feeling pretty, um, breezy,” she said) and checking out the rest of the athlete’s kit bag, which turned out to include hair spray, lip gloss and a “hysterectomy kit,” so the women would not have to worry about periods.

When asked, Nike did not address the brouhaha directly, but according to John Hoke, the chief innovation officer, the woman’s bodysuit and the man’s shorts and top are only two of the options Nike will have for its Olympic runners. There are “nearly 50 unique pieces across men’s and women’s and a dozen competition styles fine-tuned for specific events,” Mr. Hoke said.

Sha’Carri Richardson

Women will be able to opt for compression shorts, a crop top or tank and a bodysuit with shorts rather than bikini bottoms. The full slate of looks was not on hand in Paris but more will be revealed next week at the U.S. Olympic Committee media summit in New York. The Paris reveal was meant to be a teaser.

Anna Cockrell.Credit...Dominique Maitre/WWD, via Getty Images

Mr. Hoke also pointed out that Nike consults with a large number of athletes at every stage of the uniform design. Its track and field roster includes Sha’Carri Richardson, who happened to be wearing the compression shorts during the Paris presentation, and Athing Mu. And there are certainly runners who like the high-cut brief. (The British Olympic sprinter Dina Asher-Smith, another Nike athlete, told The New York Times last summer that while she opts to run in briefs, she also leans toward a leotard style, rather than a two-piece.)

What Nike missed, however, was that in choosing those two looks as the primary preview for Team U.S.A., rather than, say, the matching shorts and tanks that will be also available, it shored up a longstanding inequity in sports — one that puts the body of a female athlete on display in a way it does not for the male athlete.

“Why are we presenting this sexualized outfit as the standard of excellence?” said Lauren Fleshman, a U.S. national champion distance runner and the author of “Good for a Girl.” “In part because we think that’s what nets us the most financial gain from sponsors or NIL opportunities, most of which are handed out by powerful men or people looking at it through a male gaze. But women are breaking records with ratings in sports where you don’t have to wear essentially a bathing suit to perform.”

The problem such imagery creates is twofold. When Nike chose to reveal the high-cut bodysuit as the first Olympics outfit, purposefully or not, the implication for anyone watching is that “this is what excellence looks like,” Ms. Fleshman said.

That perception filters down to young athletes and becomes the model girls think they have to adopt, often at a developmental stage when their relationships with their bodies are particularly fraught.

And more broadly, given the current political debate around adjudicating women’s bodies, it reinforces the idea that they are public property.

Still, Ms. Fleshman said, “I’m glad Nike put this image out as the crown jewel of Olympic Team design,” because it may act as the catalyst for another conversation that has been long overdue.

“If you showed this outfit to someone from the W.N.B.A. or women’s soccer, they would laugh in your face,” she said. “We shouldn’t have to normalize it for track and field anymore. Time’s up on that.”

#Nike #Team U.S.A.#Track and field #Nike Air #Paris #They couldn't even give women short shorts?#Nike has a chance for a do over

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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months

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What's One More?

Mike Schmidt x AFAB! Reader

Summery: The house is all to you and Mike, which is a strange feeling to Mike as he begins to realize how things are changing. But change isn't always a bad thing, is it?

Tags: Porn with plot barely, no use of Y/N, Reader has female pronouns, set after the events of the FNaF movie, pre-established relationship, breeding kink, dirty talk/talking through it, oral sex (fem recieving), face fucking, vaginal fingering, pet names, possessive sex/actions, marking, hair pulling, mentions of drinking, multiple rounds, aftercare, multiple orgasms, teasing, dumbification, overstimulation, this is possibly filthier than Princess imma be fr.

Notes: Yes I'm working on requests. Yes I'm working on part II for 'Easy Money.' Yes I'm working on 50 million different projects + writers block that's preventing me from posting as much as I'd like. But in the meantime, *rattles can* COME GET Y'ALLS DICK.

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The front door opened at the same time it does everyday, Mike slipping in quickly to evade the cold, bitter Febuary air that has turned his cheeks red while he called out his usual 'hello' to the house. His easy smile instantly appeared as soon as our eyes met, me standing at the stove giving the large pot of chilli its final stir just in time for his arrival home.

"Hey!" I said cheerfully, looking up from the boiling pot briefly before setting the lid back down, crossing the floor quickly to come collect his coat.

"Hey," he returned, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to my cheek as I undo his buttons, his hands coming to rest on my silk covered hips. "Never seen you in this before," he mumbled, pulling away slightly to get a better look.

"You like?" I ask, pushing the jacket off of his shoulders and folding it over my arms. "I've had this since freshman year. Found it in one of my boxes from the move." The robe is simple, thrifted but It'd been new when I'd gotten it. Emerald green and made from silk, if not silk like material- I'm no expert on fabrics, -reaching down to my ankles and showing off my curves, drawn tight around my waist to accent my figure. Simple floral patterns sewn into the collar decorate the robe, slightly darker than the rest of the fabric. His eyes wandered over my body, taking in the sight as he slowly removed his items from his pockets.

"You look nice," he said, almost sounding as if he was in a trance.

"Just nice?" I tease.

"The word 'motherly' comes to mind," he said. "Not- not in a weird way," he quickly added, blushing slightly. "Just- you cooking, dressed in that. Just kinda...." He's flustered, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to clarify what I already understand.

I smile at him, leaning closer. "Well, it's fitting," I teased.

It had been about a year since I moved in. Mike and I had met during a night out, our friends recognizing each other. Initially I thought the blonde he had been with- Vanessa, I would later learn, -had been a bit more than a friend. But after spending the night round a table, laughing and getting up one by one for drunken karaoke, Mike and I had made eye contact enough times to warrant my request for his number after I confirmed she wasn't.

"Seriously?" He asked when I'd passed him the notepad specifically meant for numbers that I kept in my purse.

"Yeah," I'd laughed, slightly- okay, maybe more than slightly -drunk. "You're hot."

I was three beers and one shot of straight tequila into the night when I'd asked, everyone beginning to debate who would call a taxi and who would ride with who. I felt rather confident.

His eyes narrowed, his cheeks red most likely from alcohol. Although he'd only had the one beer.

"Oh shit," I giggled stupidly. "Did I read things wrong? Because I thought-"

"No! You didn't," he quickly said, cutting me off. He scribbled his number down quickly, scratchy enough that I could barely read it, and he could sense that.

"You want me to write it again?" He asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"Maybe," I giggled. "Or I can have my friend ask Vanessa if I get it wrong."

I got it wrong. Twice. But that was my fault since I called as soon as I'd gotten home, bleary eyed and claiming to just be checking to see if he got home alright, which wasn't a total lie. Then he asked if I wanted to get Chinese the next day. And how am I supposed to say no to an offer like that?

When he first brought up his sister I think he expected me to run for the hills. God, no. Not a man committed to caring for his baby sister. Please.

When I'd met the girl she was sly, simply saying "Oh, you're who he won't talk about." Mike seemed ready to throttle her, and I was ready to step in and help take care of her however much they needed me to. Who could say no to a kid like that?

Three years in and Mike had been nervous asking for me to move in. We'd both had the idea, but we both were terrified that the other would immediately shoot it down. But it was almost ridiculous to worry about such a thing. Mike had visited me all the time with Abby in tow, I visited Mike. Eventually we were at the point that I was at his house more often than I was at my own apartment. And with Abby getting older and beginning to have a life of her own, one that I could tell Mike was anxious about her having, it was about time a serious talk be had about the future of our relationship.

"You know, married couples have better taxes," I said casually one day while huddled around the kitchen table, papers strewn all over the place and some even on the floor while I punched numbers into a calculator. I think that nearly killed Mike, who shot out air through his nose hard enough all of his coffee covered his face and hair.

Then a week later he'd flipped through channels lazily, commenting on how awful the channels were before landing on the one of the marketers selling jewelry for prices that could make you shit.

"That's a nice ring," he commented. "Don't you think?"

I looked up from my book, narrowing my eyes to focus my vision. "Ooh, it is," I agreed.

"What kind of rings do you like? Like, what's your favorite?" He asked.

"Subtle," I deadpanned, smiling. "I'm coming with you to pick it out."

We picked up a new set of housekeys first.

"Get a room," Abby groaned, wandering in to flop onto the couch.

"Don't flop, you'll hit your head," Mike and I both scolded, smiles growing as we heard the other. Abby simply groaned louder, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, that's punishment enough," I muttered, giggling slightly. I moved to the coat closet, hanging up Mike's jacket. "How was work?" I asked him.

Mike shrugged, leaning against the wall. "It was good. Long. Shop gets cold this time of year," he said.

"Well, dinner will help. It's done, by the way. Timed it just right," I said with a wide smile. Mike returned it, stepping closer to wrap his arms around me once more and say a soft 'thank you' before pressing his lips to mine.

"Seriously, a room," Abby groaned.

"There's one right there with a table that needs set. Go on," I said to her, gesturing towards the adjacent room. She rolled her eyes once more, getting up off the couch and grumbling as she made her way to the cabinets.

"Wow," Mike chuckled. "She's got attitude."

"She's fourteen, we should be lucky she hasn't killed us in her sleep," I said into his ear, laughing.

"Don't you mean ours?"

"No."

The dinner is nice. A scene right out of a book, all of us gathered around the table eating the warm food as we discuss our days, Mike and I shooting each other glances here or there when we think Abby, who's in the middle of some long story neither of us are truly able to give our attention towards, won't notice. Eventually his hand found mine under the table, grasping it gently and squeezing as I hold his gaze, smiling in the same idiotic manner he always brings out of me.

"It's tonight. I know it's short notice but all of my friends are going and her parents will be there," Abby said quickly, inturrupting our mental conversation with her pleading eyes.

"Wait a minute, back up. What's happening?" Mike said, blinking and refocusing.

"The sleepover," Abby said emphatically. "I didn't find out about it until today and my friends invited me. Can I go?"

Mike opened his mouth to respond, his eyes worried and glancing over to me.

"Who is this?" He asked.

"Lisa."

"Lisa?"

"Lisa Browning," I reminded him.

"Oh. And this is at her house?" He asked.

"Yes," Abby moaned in frustration, clearly impatient for her answer.

Mike and I glanced at each other. His eyes are unsure, looking to me for my thoughts.

"She visits them all the time, I don't see why not," I said. I turn to Abby. "Is her mom picking you up?"

"She can," Abby said quickly.

Mike is still unconvinced, I can tell by his grasp on my hand.

"You have that phone we bought you for Christmas?" I asked her. She nodded. Since recieving the cheap, purple Motorola she hadn't let it out of her grasp. "If you go, will you call us when you get there, when you guys are going to sleep? Any location change you'll run by us first?" I asked. Abby nodded again, her eyes shifting to Mike once more, wide with teenage desperation.

It was hard for Mike watching her get older. It would scare any parent, but take a man who'd watched his brother be kidnapped and his parents wilt away leaving him to step up? There were days Mike would wake hyperventilating, terrified something would happen to her if he didn't do something. It took convincing, but over time I had convinced him to relax, told him she was smart. Once I'd told him all the trouble I'd survived, he finally learned to catch his breath before jumping into several questions about how I was still alive with a new panic.

With a squeeze of my hand, he nodded.

"Check in. If you don't, I'll call her mom."

"Unnecessary, I'll call," Abby said, leaping from her seat and already dialing a number.

"Wash your plate!" Mike tried to tell her, but she was already gone.

"I'll get her plate, let her go," I chuckled. Mike sighs beside me, wiping his face with his hand.

"You think she'll be okay?" He asked me.

"I think fourteen year olds spend their days watching scary movies and MTV, nothing she won't do here," I said, taking a spoonful of chilli into my mouth. After I swallow I add, "Besides, it gives us the chance for some alone time."

That solidified the decision in his mind.

Much to Abby's embarrassment, Mike reminded Mrs. Browning to have Abby call us to check in, and with her reassurement he finally relaxed, walking back into the house once they're out of sight.

As I finish drying the dishes, I feel his hands settle on my hips, warm and large as he sinks his head into the crook of my neck.

"Where did the time go?" He mused, moreso to himself than to me.

"Feeling old?" I teased.

"Yes."

"Hot."

"Shut up," he groaned, laughing into my neck.

"'Oh my God, get a room,'" I groan in a fake voice, my laughter joining in.

"Are we gross?" He asked, wrinkling his nose.

"A little," I concede. "I mean, imagine how you're gonna feel when she brings home a boyfriend."

At that his eyes widen and he groans. "I don't wanna deal with teenage boys," he moaned, pulling away to lean against the counter in front of me.

"Oh, they're coming. Just you wait. I was this age when I got my first boyfriend," I warned him.

"Teenage boys are idiots," he said.

"Teenage girls are terrifying," I add. At that he nods, eyebrows raised in agreement. "Oh, she could bring home a girl instead!"

"You know what, I'd prefer that. Less trouble actually," he decided.

"You'll survive," I tell him, shaking my head as I set the dish inside the cabinet with a small clatter. He sighed, smiling to himself in thought.

"I remember when she was a baby. So tiny," he said softly. "You should've seen her. So cute. Smelled good, too."

"You've been smiling at babies a lot, you know," I teased, shutting the cabinet and putting away the dishcloth. "Something on your mind?"

Mike blushed, waving his hand. "Nah." He paused. "...kinda," he admitted. I chuckled. Every time we'd passed a couple our age walking through the store with a baby in tow, Mike was instantly softened. His usual automatic glare giving way to a little smile as he'd wave at the tiny human, maybe even making a face to make them laugh. It'd been entertaining when ones mother once caught him with his cheeks puffed out and eyes crossed, the baby letting out a huge shriek of laughter at the sight. He hid in the soup aisle for awhile after that while I tried not to cry from laughter.

"We still have plenty of Abby's old baby stuff in the garage, you know," I said. It wasn't a new conversation, we had both agreed it was something we wanted when the time came. "Spare room, stable jobs, great sex."

Mike's wide eyes watched me as I slowly trailed closer. "Good genetics," he mumbled.

"I don't see any reason we couldn't put any use to those things," I mused, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and leaning into him.

"I can't tell if you're serious," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"Even Abby would like it. Said we're taking forever as is," I said cooly. He laughed at that.

"No she didn't," he said.

"She did!"

"Abby, the one who can't even see us in the same room without threatening suicide?"

"Listen, babies are different," I laughed, shrugging. He eyed me carefully, looking me up and down before saying anything.

"You'd like that?" He asked finally, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"I'm living in your house, wearing a ring and making dinner for you and your little sister that I've been helping you raise for four years. What is one more commitment?" I asked.

"It's a human being," he pointed out.

"Oh, fuck that then. None of those shits are gonna live in my house," I deadpanned. He laughed, leaning in to catch my lips in a kiss.

"Be our human being," he said softly.

"That means it'll be funny," I said just as soft.

"It could have your eyes."

"Could have your nose."

"Yours is better."

"You're right."

He smacks my ass gently, chuckling as his eyes darken pleasantly. "Should we give it a try?" He asked, his voice low and rough in my ear.

"I'd say it's about time you asked."

Mike hiked me onto his shoulder, carrying me through the house and pushing open the door to our room as I giggled wildly, feeling the bed underneath of me as he flung me down, fingers searching for the ties of my robe.

"You're sure about this?" He asked, eyes watching me carefully. "This isn't just some sex thing?"

I laughed, feeling him struggle with the knot.

"Not a sex thing," I clarify. "Although admittedly hot. Do you need help?"

"The fuck did you do to this thing?" He asked, laughing but brows furrowed in frustration. I reached to pull on the string and give it one simple tug, making it come undone to reveal my simple underwear underneath.

"I like coming home to this," he said, his voice deep and husky. "You look so comfortable here. So perfect. House is so much brighter with you in it. Just so perfect."

His lips wander on my chest, first working on the valley between my breasts, his teeth nipping at the band of my bra. He tugged it upwards, snapping it against my skin harshly. A soft moan escapes me, and I allow my legs to fall open to offer him better access. He takes the opportunity, settling his body perfectly against mine as his lips begin to trail upwards to my throat.

"I love waking up next to you in the morning. I sleep so much easier with you here, feeling your breath against me as soon as I wake up. You've got creative methods to keep me up too when I don't want to be," he teased. His hands find my hips, squeezing them as he thrust our clothed hips together, making us both groan. "Are you already wet?" He asked me, nipping at my throat.

"Gotta have something to think about while I cook," I teased. He chuckled. His lips find purchase and begin sucking on my skin, creating a dark mark on the front of my throat that will only be properly covered by a sweater. I moaned slightly louder, rocking my hips slowly against his. His lips moved slightly higher, creating another, then repeating until a dotted line of dark hickies lay upon my throat, marking me all the way to just under my chin. As he sucked on the edge of my jawline, I let out a high pitched whine, digging my hands into my own hair as I tried to not rush through this.

"You sound so pretty like this," Mike said against my skin, his breath warm. "Only thing prettier is how you look." His warm hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheekbone softly.

"Talk to me," he said softly, staying still aside from the gentle stroke of his thumb. His eyes are soft, black in the dim lighting from his blown out pupils. He looks so sweet, so ready to please. If I said the word he'd do anything so long as it made me happy.

I cup his face with my hands, pulling him towards me to capture his lips in a soft kiss. His lips are warm against mine, wet from his own spit from creating the dark marks against me. He moaned softly, his tongue swiping at my lower lip to ask permission for access. I grant it, parting my lips slightly and gasping as his tongue quickly slides in, deep in my mouth and dominating the kiss as his grasp on me tightened. It felt as though he was desperate, like a dying man trying to experience his last contact with another human being ever in his life. I tried to return the kiss with as much frenzy, but his hands on either side of my face, his grasp firm yet careful, his hips pinning me to the mattress made my mind begin to slip into a world of pleasure, not able to focus on anything except how good it felt to not be in control.

I could feel his breathing through his nose, still kissing me and exploring my mouth. It lasted a minute, two, three. When he finally pulled away, several gossamer threads of spit still connected us, disappearing into thin air as he looked down at me, his hand carefully stroking my forehead.

"I'm going to ask one more time," he said carefully. "This is your last chance. After this I'm not checking," he stressed. His breath is hot and heavy against me, and my hips roll against his in an attempt for friction. "Are you one hundred percent positive?" He asked, his eyes wide and eager as he placed carefully kisses along my cheeks. I nod quickly, desperate for more. Mike shook his head, pulling away slightly.

"Say it," he said. "Be clear."

I blushed, suddenly feeling shy for no real reason. "I'm completely sure," I said gently. "I want this."

"This as in sex or a kid?" He asked.

"Both," I answered.

"You're completely sure? Because if you want to back out that's completely-"

"Michael, I swear to fucking God if you don't hurry up and fuck me I'm gonna get you pregnant, see how you like-"

Mike scrambled off the bed, grabbing my ankles and pulling me roughly to the edge. I let out an involuntary yelp, giggling as he spread my legs wide and high, his lips and teeth pressing against my left ankle before quickly trailing downwards, biting and sucking quickly as he moaned wantingly.

"Eager?" I asked him lightly. He shoots me a look, biting down particularly hard on a spot almost under my knee before beginning his work on the inside of my thigh. His hand trailed up and down my right thigh, grazing his nails against my skin to make me shiver while he focused his mouth on the other.

"You taste delicious," he moaned, teeth sinking into my thigh as his nails dug in harshly, raking down until his hand came near my hips before raking back up to my knee. "Whatever soap you're using, keep using it."

I blush, moaning gently. My hips rolled towards his head, making him chuckle.

"Be patient," he chided.

"I am patient," I said defensively.

"Since when?" He asked, biting down on a new spot. I moan again, squirming against him as I felt a surge of warmth shoot from my head straight to my cunt. "Anytime I so much as look at you, you beg me to fuck you."

"That's not true," I said. His hand slaps my thigh, grabbing it roughly as he bit down once more, lower.

"Made me fuck you on the table last night just because you couldn't focus on your book," he tisked. "Now you're making me fuck you because you want a baby."

"You want one too," I reminded him.

"I want anything with you," he moaned against my skin. "Especially anything that makes you mine."

My hands stretch above my head, my fingers woven together. Mike's eyes caught on something, staring at my hand as his mouth drew closer to where I wanted it.

"Your ring looks so pretty," he moaned. "Love seeing you wear it. So glad I bought it. Love seeing people notice it on you."

"Yeah?" I asked. I tried to squeeze his head with my thighs, but his hands keep me open, even spreading my legs wider after my attempt.

"Remember that kid at the bar?" He asked, chuckling. The 'kid' in question had been in college, clearly drunk as he leaned against the bar next to me while I'd waited for Mike, who'd watched the interaction curiously from the window outside, asking if it hurt when I fell from heaven. A simple flash of my ring and the response of having someone catch me before I hit the ground sent him stumbling away to disappear once more into the crowd. "Poor fucker looked so disappointed," Mike said, sucking a dark spot into my thigh, making me squirm and throw my head back in pleasure.

"You like being possessive," I teased him. His hand smacked my thigh once more.

"I'm not the one who came and shoved her tongue down my throat when the bartender got a little too flirty for her taste," he said. His eyes sparkled, fingers massaging the spot tinged red from the abrasion.

"I did not shove my tongue down your throat," I said defensively.

"You pulled my hair like I was a bitch," he laughed. His hot air blew against my clothed cunt, making me gasp from stimulation. He picked up on this, blowing cold air against me before saying "She was just trying to get tipped."

"I know," I moaned. "I'd had a couple."

Mike licked at my covered pussy, flattening his tongue wide against me as he licked a long, hot stripe from bottom to top, sucking at my clit through the wet cotton once he reached it. I moaned into the pillow beside me, muffling my cries. His hand reached up and snatched it from me, throwing it off the bed as he repeatedly licked, gaining speed as his dark eyes watched me.

"Okay, maybe we're both possessive," I conceded, bucking my hips against his face. He hummed happily, his large hands cupping my asscheeks and lifting my hips higher off the bed as he squeezed the cool flesh.

"I like it," he said. "Like that I won't even have to do anything to show you're mine now after this."

I feel my stomach flutter at his words, a blush dusting my cheeks.

"It may take a couple tries," I tell him.

"We've got all night," he said breathily.

"Until Abby calls," I reminded him. He groaned at that. "She's not gonna call, we both know that," I laughed.

"Not my problem right now," he said. His fingers hooked around the band of my underwear, pulling them away from me harshly. "You are."

"A problem?" I said in mock offense. "Well, I guess if that's what I am, I'll take my goods elsewhere." I huffed haughtily, twisting away from him and turning onto my stomach. The motion helped Mike bring my underwear to my ankles as I began to crawl away. He tugged them off fully, then grabbed my ankles once more to return me to the edge of the bed. I yelped once more, grabbing at the sheets and dragging them down with me. Mike spread me open once more and immediately shoved his tongue as deep inside of me as he could, holding my hips up and legs open as he tongue fucked me in earnest. I cried out, grinding my hips against his face. I clutched a pillow to my face, crying and even screaming into it when his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking harshly at just the right spot to make me cum with barely a warning. Mike had been pleased as punch when he figured out just the right angle the very first time. It was his favorite, throwing me into orgasm without any preparation to strike me dumb and overstimulated. There were times he'd focus on my clit for what felt like hours, tugging and licking to figure out what made me cum the fastest, the hardest, sometimes even managing to make me paint his face, and once his hair. He grinned so wide I almost thought his face would split open when he accomplished that.

He pulled away from my cunt for just a moment, his voice deep and commanding. "Let me hear you," he said. He buried himself in my cunt once more. I could feel his jaw moving, his bottom lip moving against my clit as his tongue slipped in and out, creating lewd, nasty noises that filled the air. I moaned into my pillow, hardly able to think. His hand smacked my ass hard before he pulled away once more. "Don't make me ask again, woman."

I raised my head to say something, but the words escaped me as I felt his tongue dive in once more, curling to scoop my slick into his mouth. He moaned at the taste, his hand roughly grabbing at my ass. All that spilled from my mouth were long, broken moans as I fucked his face, gutturally pleading for more. He flipped me onto my back roughly before spreading the lips of my soaked pussy apart, attaching his lips quickly and sucking at that perfect spot. I screamed, shrill and high as though I'd been stabbed while he giggled in excitement against me. The vibrations of his voice against my clit sent me higher, my head digging against the sheets as my back arched high away from the bed. My hands slapped against the bed, my legs trembling as I rode his face. Lost to the world, Mike is the only thing that grounds me, his fingers gently tracing patterns against the insides of my thighs while he watched me come undone with nothing but love and pride in his eyes.

He didn't relent, releasing my clit to lap up my glistening cum eagerly before returning to the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue against it before sucking it once more, bringing me back to the same edge as I begged for mercy.

"Gonna scream, gonna scream, gonna-" my harsh whispers turned into a scream once more as I cum again, my hands finding his dark curls to force him to stay against me, my hips grinding harshly to fuck my clit into his mouth properly. His eyes relaxed, looking completely lovesick as I muttered rapid praises to him, tugging on his hair hard enough to make his eyes water. He moaned seemingly with no control against me, face red as he obeyed with no complaint.

"So good," I tell him. "Taking me so well. Letting me fuck your face like I own you. Fuck my face."

I felt his fingers find my entrance, slipping two inside of me with no hesitation as cum dribbled out of me. I clenched around his digits, my voice breaking as he massaged my top wall, searching inside of me to help me find a new peak. He moaned against my clit, eyes wide and begging for more as he watched me carefully. When his fingers brushed against that perfect spot, the one that makes me fall silent, he knows he's struck gold. His fingers begin slamming into my g-spot, curling and fucking me until I screamed out one more time, my body going limp as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. It's like I speak in tongues, the only language I'll probably ever be able to speak again after what he's done to me. I shake terribly as he sucks a few more smaller orgasms out of me, milking me for all I'm worth before pulling away, standing tall and chuckling as he slipped his middle and ring finger into his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. His face and chest are covered with me, the shine of his gold ring dulled from the dried cum. He pulled his soaked shirt off of himself, flinging it into a corner before walking around to the side of the bed, gently sitting down next to my head to stroke my forehead.

"You okay?" He asked gently, smiling proudly. I moan in response.

"Need some water?" He asked, leaning closer to press a kiss to my cheek. I can smell myself on him, thick and heady. I moan again, trying to nod but unable to. "Maybe a snack?"

At that I grab at him, pulling him closer to press his lips against mine. He allowed it, humming happily against me as he gives me a gentle kiss, loving and careful as though I could break easily. I probably could.

I whined when he pulled away, but I'm instantly sated as he scooped me into his arms, pulling me against his chest to rest us properly against the headboard of our bed. He leaned over to open a drawer on his nightstand, pulling out one of the water bottles we kept in there. Carefully he moved me into a better sitting position, then opened the bottle and held it against my lips.

"Drink," he said softly. I accept it, gulping the cold liquid as my senses begin to return to me one by one. "Good girl."

Once I finished he placed it on top of the nightstand, then held me to his chest once more to lay against the bed.

"Good warm-up?" He asked me.

"Not entirely sure that didn't do the trick right there," I said. My voice is rough, threatening to break with each word. Mike laughed loudly, his chest rumbling against my ear.

"That good?" He asked, smiling widely.

"I'm ruined for anyone else," I told him. His fingers grazed my jaw, tilting my face to meet his eyes.

"Good."

His lips are gentle as they guide me back into a kiss. It's me who deepens it, grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck, silently pleading for him to continue. He takes the hint, one hand holding the back of my neck to keep my mouth close, the other trailing down my chest, fingers making quick work of the clasp on the front of my bra. He pushes the item away, cupping my right breast gently as his thumb gently strokes across my nipple, making it harden underneath his calloused touch, making me gasp.

"So sensitive," he remarked, smirking. "Could do anything to these and you'd be my willing bitch. Such a pretty girl."

I moaned eagerly into his mouth, tugging at his hair and pressing my chest against his touch. He adjusts my body, guiding me to straddle his lap properly as he guided the robe off of my shoulders, letting the material fall to my elbows. He pulled away from the kiss, admiring the hickies adorning the column of my throat.

"So pretty," he mused. His finger trailed from under my chin to the valley of my breasts, then back up again. "Do you know how pretty you are?"

"You tell me every day," I laughed softly, blushing. He hummed, his arms moving to support my upper body as he leaned me back.

"Doesn't mean you know," he said. He sucked new dark spots onto my chest, continuing his trail until it ends at the bottom of my ribcage. "Dressed so pretty for me, wearing nothing under your pretty robe. Keeping yourself easily accessible like the pretty girl you are."

It was easily his favorite nickname for me, calling me 'pretty girl' more often than my own name. Sometimes I think he only calls me by my name just to remind me he does know it, although I won't lie that I'm disappointed when he does it. The first time he called me by his favorite name was the first time we had sex. He was balls deep and panting, desperate for air as he pumped in and out of me. I think it had slipped out by mistake, based on the way his eyes widened after he said it. He was so shy in the beginning, his inexperience obvious but not damning. It was cute.

His lips trailed from the bottom of my ribcage until he found the bottom of my left breast, accenting it with little marks wherever his mouth landed.

"You want my cock?" He asked me, breath fanning over my breast. I nodded eagerly. "Use your words," he reminded me.

"Yes please," I said quietly. He laughed against my skin, nipping close to my nipple.

"Aw, she has manners," he said sweetly. I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Don't be a brat." He chided at my response. I smiled at him.

"Or what?" I asked innocently.

"Or I'll find something else to do," he said.

"Like?" I pressed.

"Like fuck myself until there's nothing left for you to take," he said smugly.

"You're no fun."

"I'm very fun, that's why you're going to behave."

"It's more fun if I don't."

At that he latches onto my hard nipple, biting and lavving his tongue over it while moaning greedily, watching me through his dark lashes as I leaned back, pressing my chest against him as much as I could, rocking my hips against his as I lost all other thought.

"There she is," he said, his voice low and gravely. "There's my girl."

He layed me down gently, spreading my legs wide open for him. He undid his jeans, taking out his cock and stroking it while he admired me from above.

"Tempted to just watch you," he said, his hand slowly trailing up and down his throbbing length. "You look so perfect, all red and dazed."

I whined, reaching for him and wrapping my own hand around his cock, stroking him at a slightly faster pace.

"There you go," he crooned. "Get it ready."

I pumped with more vigor, watching his face as I felt him twitch under my grasp. Deciding he was satisfied he gently grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head, then guided himself to my entrance.

"How do you want me, sweet girl?" He asked softly, smiling above me.

"I don't wanna remember my own name," I said quickly. "If I can walk across this room by the end of it, you need to try again."

He raised his eyebrows, smiling down at me. "Eager?" He teased.

My response is a sudden moan, my cunt clenching around his thick cock as he sinks into me, burying himself to the hilt and making me feel as though he'll split me in two.

"You're tight," he groaned in my ear. "You want it fast?"

"Yes."

He grabbed the back of my knees, pressing them to my shoulders as he pistoned in and out of me rapidly, moaning at the feeling of my cunt swallowing him eagerly, clenching at every vein, every inch, slick and desperate for his seed.

"It'll take better like this," he moaned. His jaw is slack, panting as his balls slap against my ass, heavy and making me clench with each thrust. "Been thinking about this so long.'

I tried to respond, but all that escapes me are the tongues from earlier, moaning gibberish as all I can focus on is him fucking me into stupidity.

"You'd look so pretty with a baby on your hip. My baby," he groaned. His tip finds my g-spot, making me cry out loudly.

"Right there," I chanted quickly, eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"Yeah? That the spot?" He asked. "Can you hold this knee for me, baby?"

My body automatically obeyed, quickly holding one of my knees right against my body as he moved his hand to settle on my lower stomach, pressing down as he fucked me hard enough to make a small bulge whenever he slammed his dick fully into me.

"So cute," he praised. "Such a pretty fuckin' pussy. You know that?" I moan, my vision and thought completely fucked.

"I keep telling you to use." Thrust. "Your." Thrust. "Words." His third pointed thrust tears a scream from my throat, making him smile. "Does this sound like a suggestion? Because I promise you that it's not."

"I have a pretty pussy," I moaned without second thought. My voice is soft and frail as I chant the phrase over and over, not stopping even as he cooed sweet praises in my ear.

"Gonna look so pretty with my baby," he said. The smacking of our skin is loud, echoing through the room with each new thrust. "Maybe I'll give you another." His balls stick to my skin, tacky from my cum that drips out of me onto the newly washed sheets. "Just keep giving you my kids until I can't anymore. God, I hope this fucking takes."

I'm still chanting the phrase, stupid and willing to do anything so long as it means I will be rewarded with his cock. He smiled down at me, his eyes fluttering shut as my pussy swallows him whole again and again.

"Need you to cum baby," he said, his voice strained. "It'll take better if you do."

"I'm close, Mikey," I whined. It was a nickname I only used in times like these, too stupid to say his name properly.

His hand shifts lower on my belly, thumb snaking down to rub tight circles onto my hard, pulsing clit.

"Gonna make you mine. Gonna make you a mother." He is completely lost to the world, eyes shut in bliss as his thrusts grow deep and shallow, making me begin to grow quiet as I focus on my orgasm. "Jesus Christ, I love you."

A loud cry escapes me as my muscles contract around him one final time, hard enough I can tell it almost pushes him out of me completely. At the feeling of such a strong grasp Mike comes undone too, painting the inside of my cunt a pretty, pearlescent white as he unloads right next to my cervix, burying himself as deep as he can before resuming his pace with newfound vigor, moaning with every new thrust.

"Again," he moaned. His chest presses against mine, our bodies intertwined into such a tight mating press it's hard to tell where I end and he begins. "Wanna make sure it takes. Wanna make sure it takes."

I can't help but laugh in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of my head as I nodded happily, taking as much as he was willing to give me.

"I'm not gonna last long," I said, the overstimulation already turning my face red as I felt the knot in my stomach begin to tighten once more.

"Good," he growled. "I'm not gonna stop until I fucking break you."

His words send me over the edge again, my voice louder this time as I begged him to break me, to fill me, to-

Much to our immediate frustration, it turns out Abby did remember to call, making Mike yell into the bed in frustration before he slipped out of me to race to the living room, making quick work of the conversation before almost slamming the phone down in excitement, rushing down the hall once more to return to the immediate task at hand.

"Where was I?" He asked me, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he quickly climbed back on top of me.

"You were telling me you want like six kids right before damning the one we're already raising," I teased, smiling.

"Well, maybe not six," he admitted. He glanced down to my aching cunt, admiring the sight of our mixed cum leaking out before sliding his dick back inside to plug the hole. "But what's one more?"

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

This was fucking filthy. I have no apologies. Take your problems up with God, he's the one who put me on this earth.

Taglist:

@jhutchissupercool @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support! <3

Masterlist ▪︎ Read the spinoff!

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #jhutch #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x you #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt smut #mike schimdt x you #mike fnaf #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fnaf

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satan-incarnate-666 · 5 months

Text

hi gang!! its me, ur favourite [redacted]!

as i believe I've said a couple times, i

a) do ALL of my work via my phone - mutual aid, organising protests, info sharing, my real-job-work, networking, yelling at Stephen Lecce because I have his personal phone number, etc

and b) have put my phone on hospice care. my phone has a terminal case of TSA Fucked With It.

as such, i am very very very desperately asking y'all if y'all can help me raise money for a new phone so i can continue to do the work i do!

my paypal is @adonisoftheroses and my goal is $700 USD. i only need another $114!

also, i have incentives!

if u donate $15, I'll paint u something!

if you donate $25+, i will write u something (a minimum of 250 words)!

if u donate $50+, i will send u a vial of mine own blood! (/hj)

send me screenshots n we'll figure smth out!

thanks so much!

(also, reblog this post every time you see it pretty please)

edit: its official! my phone has kicked the bucket!

I'm typing this from an ancient samsung galaxy note 5, which is barely keeping up with the speed of my typing, and will never be able to keep up with my work. for context, it hasn't been used in 6 years.

it's a lot more urgent now, because classes/work start up again in 1 and a half weeks. my most pressing phone-related matter is planning a vision consultation for the advocacy organization i work for. this will take place january 20th, so i need! a! phone!

i only need another $114 usd!

BITCH WE DID IT (for real this time)

i wrote a breakup text (essay) for my irl bestie and she covered basically everything i needed! the last little bit i got bc i convinced boss no. 2 / 3 to pay part of my paycheque thru paypal.

#caw caw caw #important #mutual aid #signal boost #help me please i beg

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reality-detective · 2 months

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Was the Baltimore Bridge attacked? 👇

The Baltimore bridge collapse was an “absolutely brilliant strategic attack” on US critical infrastructure - most likely cyber - & our intel agencies know it. In information warfare terms, they just divided the US along the Mason Dixon line exactly like the Civil War.

Second busiest strategic roadway in the nation for hazardous material now down for 4-5 years - which is how long they say it will take to recover. The bridge was built specifically to move hazardous material - fuel, diesel, propane gas, nitrogen, highly flammable materials, chemicals and oversized cargo that cannot fit in the tunnels - that supply chain now crippled.

Make no mistake: this was an extraordinary attack in terms of planning, timing & execution.

The two critical components on that bridge are the two load-bearing pylons on each end, closest to the shore. They are bigger, thicker and deeper than anything else. These are the anchor points and they knew that hitting either one one of them would be a fatal wound to the integrity of the bridge.

Half a mile of bridge went in the river - likely you will have to build a new one. Also caused so much damage to the structural integrity of the bottom concrete part that you cannot see & won’t know until they take the wreckage apart. Structural destruction is likely absolutely.

Attack perfectly targeted.

“They have figured out how to bring us down. As long as you stay away from the teeth of the US military, you can pick the US apart. We are an arrogant and ignorantly - lethal combination. Obama said they would fundamentally change America and they did. We are in a free-fall ride on a roller coaster right now - no brakes - just picking up speed.”

The footage shows the cargo ship never got in the approach lane in the channel. You have to be in the channel before you get into that turn. Location was precise/deliberate: They chose a bend in the river where you have to slow down and commit yourself - once you are committed in that area there is not enough room to maneuver.

Should have had a harbor pilot to pilot the boat. You are not supposed to traverse any obstacles without the harbor pilot.

They chose a full moon so they would have maximum tidal shift - rise and fall. Brisk flow in that river on a normal day & have had a lot of rain recently so water was already moving along at a good pace.

Hit it with enough kinetic energy to knock the load-bearing pylon out from under the highway - which fatally weakens the span and then 50 percent of the bridge fell into the water.

All these factors when you look at it - this is how you teach people how to do this type of attack and there are so few people left in the system who know this. We have a Junior varsity team on the field.

Tremendous navigational obstruction. Huge logistical nightmare to clean this up. The number of dead is tragic but not the whole measure of the attack.

That kind of bridge is constantly under repair - always at night because there is so much traffic and they cannot obstruct that during the day. So concern is for repair guys who were on foot (out of their vehicles) working who may now be in the water - 48 degrees at most at this time of year.

When you choke off Baltimore you have cut the main north-south hazardous corridor (I-95) in half. Now everyone has to go around the city - or go somewhere else.

To move some of that cargo through the tunnel you may be able to get a permit but those are slow to get and require an escort system that is expensive and has to be done at night.

For every $100 dollars that goes into the city, $12 comes from shipping. Believe this will cripple the city of Baltimore at a time when they do not have the resources to recover.

- Lara Logan

The traffic issue was mentioned in this 👇 post

Maybe we have to dig deeper into this Bridge collapse further. Could it be a deeper issue? What's in those shipping containers? Who owns the ship?

Is it for this 👆

It has been 3 years and 3 days since the Evergreen blocked the Suez Canal. Does the number 33 mean anything?

Was this a "Black Swan Event?"

I'm just asking questions? 🤔

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matan4il · 2 months

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Daily update post:

There's not a lot of details yet, because this happened less than an hour ago, but it's being reported that a terrorist shooting attack took place today, at least two people are said to have been wounded and taken to the hospital, and the terrorist has been neutralized.

A little over a week ago, I wrote that Marwan Issa, Hamas' 3rd top leader in Gaza, might have been killed in an IDF strike, but there's no final confirmation yet. Since then, no one has been able to contact Issa, and the Israeli assessment is that his body is buried under the rubble. Now, there's been private conversations where Hamas has said the same thing, though officially they're still saying they don't know. Hamas has motivation to present Issa as alive, and thus Israel as having failed, but at the same time, if he actually hasn't been killed, just wounded in the strike, then Hamas has reason to want Israel to falsely believe he's dead. In other words, I wouldn't take Hamas' double position as confirming anything, and from what I know, that's the general thinking in Israel. If Marwan Issa is dead, one of the sides will get to his body sooner or later, and then we might know (if it's Israel, or if it's Hamas, but for whatever reason, they decide it serves them better to confirm his death). That said, it's kind of funny, how the US doesn't seem to get the complexity of Hamas' contradicting motives here, and takes their word as final confirmation that Issa is indeed dead. The concept of "terrorists lie if it benefits them, in this case they just seem currently unsure if it does" shouldn't be that hard to grasp. Like yes, we all are inclined to think Issa's dead, but there's a reason why no Israeli official has yet come out and publicly said it as a fact. This vid reports how Hamas both confirms and rejects the claim that Issa's dead, and the way it's subtitled with both positions says it all IMO:

Also amusing is how the international press doesn't not the ranking within Hamas Gaza. Marwan Issa is NOT Hamas' #2 in Gaza, he's #3. I saw headlines saying Israel might have killed Hamas' second top senior in Gaza, which is Mohammed Deif, and was disappointed to learn that nope, the media is just confused. Quick reminder: Yahya sinwar is Hamas Gaza's leader and #1, Mohammed Deif is the military leader and #2, Marwan Issa is Deif's right hand man and #3, while international media is way too clueless on some very basic stuff regarding this conflict.

Here's the international press giving Issa a postmortem promotion:

For comparison, here are those who correctly referred to him as Hamas' #3:

The operation at the Shifa hospital, which I wrote about yesterday, continues. The number of terrorists killed there has risen to 50, and 180 suspects were arrested. Another soldier has been killed during this recent operation, 51 years old Sebastian Haion, after we already lost one during it. Just a small reminder, that if there had been only unarmed civilians at this hospital, there would have been no dead Israeli soldiers in this raid.

This tweet was too long to fit in one screenshot, but here's the essence of it. The IDF's spokesman in Arabic has published on Twitter evidence that just like Hamas, Hezbollah along with fellow Lebanese terrorist organization Amal are also misusing medical ambulances and organizations for terrorist activities.

I've written about a British Jewish director who, at the Oscars, hijacked the Holocaust to denounce hijacking the Holocaust for political positions he does not agree with, based on a false and ignorant narrative, which is harmful to Jews. I also mentioned that the biggest organization fighting against antisemitism, the ADL, as well as an organization of Holocaust survivors has come out to denounce this director. I've been seeing even more denouncements. Here's a short recap. I just wanna clarify, this isn't about him personally. This is a reminder that people like him don't get to erase the voices of the majority of Jews, while using his own Jewish identity to do so, without us speaking up, too. The sad thing is none of these voices will be heard as loudly or be as applauded as he was, for throwing most Jews (and Holocaust victims) under the bus, in favor of what's trendy to say these days.

I'll start with another Jewish director, László Nemes, who had also won an Oscar for a Holocaust movie, Son of Saul (I have to admit, Holocaust movies will never be truly able to capture the full horror and brutality of the Nazi camps, but of all the ones I've seen, and I've watched way too many, Son of Saul comes closest, probably aided by the fact that it's based on testimonies of the survivors who had seen the worst of the worst with their own eyes). Nemes said: "[The] director should have stayed silent instead of revealing he has no understanding of history and the forces undoing civilisation, before or after the Holocaust. Had he embraced the responsibility that comes with a film like that, he would not have resorted to talking points disseminated by propaganda meant to eradicate, at the end, all Jewish presence from the Earth. It is especially troubling in an age where we are reaching pre-Holocaust levels of anti-Jewish hatred – this time, in a trendy, ‘progressive’ way."

Another Jewish creator, Richard Trank, wrote a whole op-ed about how offensive he found the speech. Trank is a producer who won an Oscar for Holocaust documentary The Long Way Home (a movie that follows the struggle of the majority of survivors to get to Israel at the end of WWII, despite British opposition and Arab violence). Trank wrote, among other things: "Upon hearing [the speech], I thought about the assistant camera operator who has worked on three of my films, and whose 79-year-old father was kidnapped. This man had been spending his retirement years volunteering to drive Gazans needing medical care into Israel, care which Hamas could not provide for them despite billions in aid that has been sent to the area since the terrorist organization took control of it in 2006. I thought about the young people I have met in the last few weeks who survived the massacre at the Nova music festival. And then I reflected on this incredibly arrogant man who equated Israeli Jews to Nazis, and then left the Dolby Theatre with his statue when the awards show ended to party the night away."

And then, it turned out that the man who denounced hijacking the Holocaust for political causes, had not only hijacked the Holocaust itself with his little stunt, he also hijacked the Holocaust movie he had directed, from fellow Jewish co-creators who disagree deeply with his speech. Among them is Danny Cohen, an executive producer of this Oscar winning Holocaust film, and the article about his objection mentions that another Jewish producer of the movie, Len Blavatnik, who was standing on stage during the speech and was specifically referred to as if he agreed with it, did not sign off on it. Cohen made his position clear: "My support for Israel is unwavering. The war and the continuation of the war is the responsibility of Hamas, a genocidal terrorist organization, which continues to hold and abuse the hostages, and which doesn’t use its tunnels to protect the innocent civilians of Gaza, but uses it to hide themselves and allow Palestinians to die. I think the war is tragic and awful and the loss of civilian life is awful, but I blame Hamas for that. And any discussion of the war without saying that lacks the proper context that any discussion should have."

Now, there's an open letter condemning the director's speech, with the signatures of over 450 Jewish Hollywood creators, from different fields in the film industry. The letter says: "We refute our Jewishness being hijacked for the purpose of drawing a moral equivalence between a Nazi regime that sought to exterminate a race of people, and an Israeli nation that seeks to avert its own extermination. Every civilian death in Gaza is tragic. Israel is not targeting civilians. It is targeting Hamas. The moment Hamas releases the hostages and surrenders, is the moment this heartbreaking war ends. This has been true since the Hamas attacks of October 7th. The use of words like “occupation” to describe an indigenous Jewish people defending a homeland that dates back thousands of years, and has been recognized as a state by the United Nations, distorts history. It gives credence to the modern blood libel that fuels a growing anti-Jewish hatred around the world, in the United States, and in Hollywood. The current climate of growing antisemitism only underscores the need for the Jewish State of Israel, a place which will always take us in, as no state did during the Holocaust." Here's a link to the full letter, and list of signatories, which includes 4 rabbis. Please don't let all of these voices go unheard and lost.

This is 19 years old Oz Daniel.

I was listening to a TV interview with the family of Oz Daniel yesterday. For many months, he was thought to be kidnapped when wounded (they found traces of blood), but not dead. The main reason for the latter assumption, was that Hamas had uploaded on Oct 7 a video of him where Oz is seen being taken away while alive. I wrote about him in one of my daily update post when it was published that the army had enough to determine he had actually been murdered during the massacre, and it's his body that's being held hostage in Gaza. His parents mentioned yesterday, that as the IDF is fighting Hamas in Gaza, it also gets to a lot of their computers. And on one of them, they found the original, unedited footage of Oz being kidnapped. It shows the part they'd seen before, where he's being taken away still alive, but then it continues to show him fighting back, and the Hamas terrorists murder him. That means that they took the time to go over the footage before they uploaded it, and edit it in the cruelest way, to give Oz's family false hope. For months, the Daniel family waited for any sign of life from their child, without knowing there will never be one. It is heartless and abusive, it is torture to put people through the ordeal of thinking that they have a chance of seeing their son alive, knowing it's a deliberate lie. I don't know if I can think of any worse form of torment.

This is (on the left) 40 years old Shlomi Ziv, with his wife Miren.

Shlomi finished his interior design studies a month before Hamas' massacre, and on occasion, he worked in security. On Oct 7, he worked at the Nova music festival as a guard, together with Aviv, who's Miren's cousin, and a friend of Slomi and Miren, Jack. Shlomi saw both of his friends murdered, while he himself was kidnapped. Miren shared that they had wanted kids, and tried fertility treatments, but after years of repeated attempts, she had to give up, and how rare and incredible it was, that Shlomi understood and accepted her decision, and stood by her. "We only have each other," she said, "we're each other's world. Please bring him back to me." In the last phone call that Shlomi had with her, he was running away from the terrorists, and could barely speak. Since then, Miren hasn't had any sign of life from her husband.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack

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wavelikewhat · 1 year

Text

Heartstrings

Pairing: Producer!Woozi x Producer!Reader (she/her pronouns) Summary: You help Jihoon meet an unexpected deadline for a song and he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about you. Luckily his members nudge him toward the answer. Wordcount: 4.5k Content notes: none Genre/themes/appearances: fluff, strangers to lovers, idol/non-idol, music talk, Hoshi meddling, Seungcheol interrogating, Jeonghan snooping

A/N: So this is technically a fanfic for two fanfics: when I read i look good on you by @seungkwansphd I needed a backstory for them immediately. Then last week I read Live by @wondernus and it felt like it fit into my headcanon, so my mind started filling out how they met and got back together and began a public relationship… So here I am posting my first Woozi fic that is a fake prequel to those two, in a way? Please read those because they are so short and so sweet and will have your imagination (and heart) racing! This story is about how this couple gets together :)

“Ya! Soonyoung!” Jihoon called out.

Soonyoung abruptly stopped dancing and turned around, surprised to see Jihoon in his practice room. “What are you doing here?”

Jihoon got straight to the point, as always. “Do you have the number of the producer who wrote the song you did with Youngji?” he asked as he walked toward Soonyoung at the mirrored wall.

Soonyoung’s eyes widened. “Y/N? Why do you need her number at…” He glanced up at the clock on the wall above the mirrors and added, “11:45 at night?”

Jihoon sighed, exasperated that this ‘quick question’ was turning into a full blown conversation. “I have to finish that song featuring a woman’s vocals. The company wants to hear it tomorrow, but I need someone who can sing on the demo. They’ll have a hard time picturing a woman singing it if I sing it.”

Soonyoung nodded slowly. “That makes sense. Y/N sang the guide for that song. Yes, I have her number.” He walked over to his bag and fished out his phone. “Sent.”

Jihoon’s phone buzzed in his hand, and he looked down to see a notification from Soonyoung. “Thanks.” He turned and headed out of the room.

Soonyoung watched the door close, shrugged, and walked back to the mirrors to practice.

...

[Jihoon - Universe Factory] 23:49 - This is Jihoon, Soonyoung gave me your number. Would you be able to sing on a demo for me tonight? I’m working on a song with a woman’s vocals and the company wants to hear it tomorrow.

[Y/N] 23:50 - Did you give someone my number?

[Hoshi] 23:50 - Woozi asked me for it. Did he text you?

[Y/N] 23:50 - He did, but I had to make sure it was real

[Hoshi] 23:50 - LOL!

[Y/N - Bespoke Records] 23:51 - Hi! I’m just finishing up at my studio. I can definitely help.

[Jihoon - Universe Factory] 23:51- Any chance you could come to my studio tonight then?

[Y/N - Bespoke Records] 23:52 - Sure, send me the location.

...

You stared at your phone in shock. There is no way THE Woozi (and he called himself JIHOON?! like you were actual people who knew each other?) just asked you for help at midnight on a Tuesday. You honestly almost said yes even before your brain had a brief moment of sanity and directed you to check with Hoshi.

When Woozi asked you to come to his studio you completely froze, re-entering reality only long enough to let him know you could be there. You’d seen clips of him working at the studio and it seemed like such a cool place. You couldn't believe you were really about to go inside.

Woozi (Jihoon, you reminded yourself) even sent a company car to pick you up, which was very thoughtful of him. Then again, you were doing him a huge favor by agreeing to meet him at midnight on a Tuesday. He was lucky you were a night owl. The least he could do was give you a free ride.

All throughout the ride to his studio from yours, you felt like you should be manically texting someone about it, but you were somewhat frozen in shock. You sent a message to your roommate letting them know that you were staying out late to work with another producer, and you gave them the address for “Jihoon’s studio” and made sure location sharing was still turned on for your phone. (Safety first.) You did this frequently enough that they easily replied they'd keep their ringer on and check on you in the morning to make sure you made it back.

You stared out the window as buildings and brightly lit late-night restaurants flashed by. Suddenly, you realized, I am literally living my dream at this exact moment. You lived in Seoul working as a music producer, you had an amazing roommate you loved, you had fun meeting and collaborating with other producers in the business, and you worked on several very successful songs. And now you were about to meet one of the most successful producers in the world. Unreal.

The car arrived at what looked like an average gray building after a 15 minute ride from your studio. The subway entrance across the street told you the building was only one stop away from your apartment on the subway line you rode to work.

A security guard at the entrance let you in and pointed out the correct elevator. As the elevator doors closed, you heard him on the phone with Jihoon, letting him know you arrived. When the doors opened, you didn’t even have to wander around looking for the right room. Jihoon stood outside one of the doorways and nodded quickly before heading back into a room halfway down the hall.

You took a deep breath and started toward the studio. You had butterflies in your stomach. You didn't follow the group closely, yet among the members you’d always felt particularly drawn to Jihoon, not just for his looks (because he was so handsome you could barely believe it) but for his mind. This was an amazing once in a lifetime opportunity to work with such a talented producer.

When you walked into the studio, it was exactly as it looked in the clips you saw online. He was sitting at a computer and beside him was an empty chair. On the desk were big headphones and a microphone that were both plugged into his system. You’d only seen this microphone model online, and your excitement grew at the chance of getting to use it.

“Thanks for coming over,” Jihoon said as you walked to his desk. “I had a busy schedule today so I didn’t find out until an hour ago that they wanted it so fast.”

“Happy to help. I’m glad you thought of me.” At that moment, he looked up and met your eyes. His gaze was intense and his eyes seemed to stare into you. Maybe this was his work mode.

Shake it off, you told yourself, dropping your bag under the desk and sitting down. Be professional.

Jihoon played the ballad for you a few times and explained the concept. He sent you the lyrics so you could scroll through on your phone and follow along. You sang along under your breath, shoulders bobbing to the beat. The song was sure to be a hit, but he was correct that it was hard to imagine a woman featuring on the song with his (absolutely incredible) vocals on the demo.

“Are you ready to record?” Jihoon asked.

You nodded. You were never nervous the first time you sang something. It was like making pancakes: the first one didn’t count. That was your personal rule. You carefully put on the headphones and settled the microphone in front of you where you liked it.

You sang the lyrics exactly as written with the same vocalization he used in his version. A few times, your tongue twisted over the words. Your gut told you it wasn’t your singing style that was the issue. It felt like the sounds of those particular words didn’t fit those specific bars. As Jihoon played it back for you, you settled in to listen but you still felt some of the lyrics weren’t aligned with the song’s concept or sound.

Jihoon tilted his head and looked at you. It looked like he was calculating something. “What are you thinking?” he asked, turning his chair to face you fully.

You hesitated for a moment, but this was work. Jihoon was looking for your professional opinion as a songwriter. He obviously heard the demos you’d sent Hoshi back when you wrote a song for him and Youngji, and Jihoon liked your voice enough to ask for it on his demo. So this was definitely about work.

“I think a few of the lyrics need to be changed.” You scrolled to the first spot on your phone and pointed. “Right here, these three syllables are clashing against the musical phrasing underneath. You should do two syllables with an elongated vowel.”

Jihoon nodded slowly. “I know what you mean. What about ‘only’ or ‘maybe’ in that spot?” He looked at the lyrics on your phone and sang that section a few times to test out both options. You nodded along, feeling the rhythm of the lyrics.

“Maybe. It fits the concept of the song better.”

“I agree. What else?”

As you pointed out a few other suggestions, you found yourself much more comfortable working with him than you expected. Sometimes when you met some of the bigger producers for the first time, you felt too starstruck to make any changes to their work. But something about working alone in the quiet studio with Jihoon made your typical unease disappear. His presence filled the room, but his questions were clear and direct and you always knew exactly what he was asking.

Ten minutes later, Jihoon started a second recording, this time with the new lyrics. Despite the late hour, your voice felt strong and your mouth formed every word exactly as you intended. When you finished singing and took off the headphones, Jihoon’s eyes sparkled at you before he spoke. You felt it, too. This was it. You wouldn’t need to lay another track.

“Ready to hear it?” he asked, looking back at the computer and not addressing the fact that you both knew it was going to be perfect. You could hear the note of anticipation in his voice.

“Yes.”

A broad smile stretched across your face as you listened to the entire song. Afterwards, Jihoon turned to you with his phone in hand.

“Send me your agency’s contact information and the email address for the legal department. I need the KOMCA registration details so I can list your name in the credits.”

And just like that, you officially collaborated on a song with Universe Factory.

...

“Did you end up recording with Y/N?” Soonyoung asked Jihoon as they walked back to the practice room holding fresh iced Americanos.

“She came over that night and recorded the demo,” Jihoon replied, heading up a staircase.

Soonyoung’s eyes bugged out of his head and he stumbled on a step. He grabbed the railing to catch himself. “That night? It was the middle of the night!”

Jihoon shrugged. “She said she could.”

“What did you do together?” Soonyoung asked suspiciously.

“What do you mean? We recorded the song.”

“That’s it?”

“What else would we do? She helped with the lyrics and I set it up to give her writing credits.”

“Really?”

“Of course I did. She made the song better.”

Soonyoung watched Jihoon out of the corner of his eye. That was one of the nicest things Jihoon had ever said about anyone. Soonyoung took another sip of his coffee, his mind racing as he calculated a hundred algorithms at once. This whole situation was pretty unusual. But maybe, just maybe, his suspicion about Jihoon was correct.

“When are you seeing her again?” Soonyoung asked casually after they reached the top of the steps.

Jihoon cocked his head, thinking. “Maybe I’ll invite her to the recording. She would probably like that.”

Again, Soonyoung stumbled over his own two feet out of shock that Jihoon was considering someone’s feelings, and it wasn’t someone he’d known for a decade. And he didn’t always consider the feelings of members he knew for that long.

“Aren’t you going to buy dinner to thank her?” Soonyoung suggested.

“Is that necessary?”

“It would be the professional thing to do. Wouldn’t you do that if you worked with a guy? And Y/N really helped you meet your deadline.”

Jihoon thought carefully about the suggestion as they approached the door to the practice room. “You’re right. I should treat her to dinner. I’ll send her a message when we’re done.”

“I’ll remind you!” Soonyoung exclaimed enthusiastically.

...

Late at night a few days later, you walked up the hill to your apartment, completely lost in thought. You just finished dinner with Jihoon, and sharing the meal felt as comfortable as when you were recording in his studio last week.

After recording the demo together, he coordinated with your agency to make sure your credits appeared properly on the new song. You also had to sign an NDA about the song, studio location, and spending time with Jihoon. I guess it goes with the territory, you thought to yourself as you signed it.

During dinner, Jihoon explained the rushed deadline for the demo was because the song would be an OST for a drama starring one of the hottest actors in the country and the drama producers wanted to hear the song. Of course, they loved it and approved it.

It was hard to believe you worked with Jihoon on a song that Dokyeom was about to sing for a highly anticipated drama. It was even wilder that *Woozi* was saved in your phone simply as Jihoon, as if he was just another producer you worked with. And you were so surprised when he offered to buy you a meal to thank you. You should be the one thanking him!

But the simple meal was delicious and the quiet dinner in the small family-run restaurant near his studio (and near your apartment, but he didn't need to know that) was really nice. The owners seemed to know him well and treated him as a son. You knew you would remember the evening fondly.

Conversation mostly focused on work, but when Jihoon learned where you went to college for music production, it turned out you had learned from his mentors. He shared some genuinely entertaining stories from when he was starting to learn production software and recording tools.

It all made him more… real, and less of a person you just saw in videos on your phone. You sort of couldn't stop thinking about him, and as you walked up the steps leading to your apartment building, you found yourself mentally scrolling through all your draft songs to see if he might want to work on one with you.

...

[Jihoon] 21:09 - Would you be interested in coming to Dokyeom’s recording on Tuesday?

[Y/N] 21:15 - I would love that!

...

Through the glass of the recording booth, Jihoon watched you chatting with Dokyeom like you were old friends. He felt his stomach twist but couldn't figure out why.

Dokyeom had convinced you to record one track where you sang with him, even though they had a famous singer scheduled to record that verse tomorrow. So there you were, giggling with Dokyeom in the booth.

"Ready?" Jihoon asked over the booth speakers. He watched you and Dokyeom giggle yet again over the grumpy tone of his request before settling in around the mic.

Jihoon began the recording and heard your voice pipe through his headphones. Dokyeom added unplanned adlibs underneath, which Jihoon grudgingly acknowledged worked better than what he'd suggested.

It was so odd that Jihoon felt so protective of this song when it wasn't even his song anymore. You had made it so much better, and now the two singers were going to apply their own professional minds to the song. This is how it always went.

So why was he jealous of not being on the track himself? Of not being the one in the booth with you? Jihoon saw Dokyeom tap you on the shoulder to encourage you to join him on the final vocal runs. Oh yes, he was definitely feeling weirdly jealous over you two for some reason.

The music ended and you looked through the glass directly at Jihoon, eyes shining at him with a huge grin across your face. Jihoon found himself smiling back. You looked really beautiful at that moment.

Dokyeom's eyes widened as he glanced between you and Jihoon. He had never seen Jihoon appear so connected with a virtual stranger. The camera crew appeared to think the same thing, because he saw one of them move to get a close up of Jihoon, and he saw the robotic camera in the booth tilt toward you.

You broke eye contact with Jihoon to take off your headphones and thank Dokyeom for a chance to record the song for fun, and Jihoon shook himself out of whatever bizarre hypnosis he was going through. He headed over to the computer to send this track to his personal email, just in case he may want to listen to it later.

After a few more recordings of Dokyeom alone (his raw vocals were no joke), the three of you chatted in the studio while the engineer finalized the tracks and Dokyeom suggested getting dinner.

"I would love to, but I'm meeting my roommate for dinner," you explained. "We live nearby."

"Invite them!" Dokyeom replied. "Let me pick a spot and send you the location." He scrolled through the map on his phone.

Jihoon tidied the studio and listened to the two of you talk about dinner options. So you lived nearby and had a roommate. For some reason, he liked learning things about you. It must be because you worked together so well.

Dokyeom selected a restaurant and you called your roommate to ask about meeting you and your friends for dinner. You made eye contact with Jihoon when you said that into your phone. "Friends." Were the two of you friends now? Maybe.

...

"Jihoon, did you watch the new behind the scenes video?" Seungcheol asked as they rode to their next schedule.

Jihoon responded without looking up from his phone. "Not yet. It’s been a busy week."

"The fans are going crazy over your recording with Y/N."

Jihoon looked up at the sound of your name. He didn't realize Seungcheol knew who you were. "My recording with Y/N? You mean Dokyeom's OST recording?"

"That's not what Carats are calling it."

Seungcheol held his phone up so Jihoon could see a fan edit of the few clips from the episode that showed you with him in the studio. It ended with a screenshot from Dokyeom's Instagram story showing the three of you at dinner after the recording, in a photo taken by your roommate.

"What is that all about?" Jihoon wondered aloud. He was genuinely confused.

"Are you two dating?" Seungcheol asked directly.

Behind him in the car, Jeonghan and Minghao immediately stopped chatting. This was far more interesting than their conversation. While eavesdropping, Jeonghan frantically searched your name and Jihoon's name on social media to find the clip Seungcheol was talking about.

"No," Jihoon replied. "We worked together on the song and Dokyeom suggested we have dinner. We had dinner another time, too."

"That’s it?" Seungcheol asked skeptically.

"What do you mean? That's it."

Seungcheol looked from Jihoon to his phone, where the edit was playing again. Seungcheol agreed with the fans. There were definitely sparks between you and Jihoon. Maybe Jihoon didn't realize it yet.

By then, Jeonghan had found the clip and was watching it on mute with Minghao. They shared a meaningful look. They would probably agree with Seungcheol on his theory.

Jeonghan opened his text thread with Soonyoung and sent him a message out of curiosity. "Do you still hang out with Y/N?"

...

You were surprised by the reaction to the behind the scenes video. Most of your friends were excited to see the clips of Jihoon and Dokyeom and kept telling you the video was so cute.

Back when Dokyeom tagged you on his Instagram story, you explained to your friends that you worked on something with them and it had been an amazing experience. They were all happy for you and excited after the song was released and became so popular.

The fans seemed to have the same reaction as your friends. You were naturally a little nervous about what Carats would say when Jihoon's company asked if you were willing to be recorded. After the video, the fans seemed to think you were adorable and talented and that you worked well with Jihoon. It wasn't the dramatic reaction your roommate predicted.

But your roommate was also convinced you were into Jihoon and he was into you. While that might be half true, despite your denial, nothing in the video showed anything personal between you and Jihoon. Not that there was anything personal between the two of you, but sometimes you felt like he was giving…something. His attention felt more intense than regular coworker attention. You sort of loved having all his attention focused on you.

Nevertheless, you were barely in the video after all, since it was about Dokyeom recording the song. They cut the entire section with the track you sang with Dokyeom. The few clips where you appeared mostly showed you chatting and interacting with Jihoon, and you may have watched one or two fan edits of those scenes.

No matter what was or wasn't going on between you and Jihoon, you would never forget immediately after the music stopped, when the two of you stared into each other's eyes in a perfect moment in time.

Even if he never contacted you again, you would never forget that moment.

...

[Jihoon] 13:30 - I just learned the song was nominated for best OST

[Y/N] 13:31 - WHAT?? Really??

[Jihoon] 13:31 - It's your first nomination right?

[Y/N] 13:31 - Yes!

[Y/N] 13:31 - I can't believe it

[Y/N] 13:32 - I'm in shock

[Jihoon] 13:32 - I asked them to invite you to the ceremony

[Y/N] 13:32 - You didn't have to do that

[Jihoon] 13:33 - I have to sit with the group, but even if we don't win I want it to be a special night for you

[Jihoon] 13:33 - It's an honor to be nominated

[Y/N] 13:34 - Thank you so much for including me in all of this

[Jihoon] 13:34 - You earned this

...

"...produced by Woozi of Universe Factory, and written by Woozi of Universe Factory and Y/N of Bespoke Records. This is the first win and first nomination in this category for these songwriters. Please welcome Woozi and Dokyeom to the stage."

Jihoon was actually surprised the song won. The other nominees were very popular as well, but all were produced by groups who wrote many drama OSTs. Seungkwan clapped his back and encouraged him to go up to the stage with Dokyeom as the members cheered and clapped around him. Above the noise, Jihoon could hear the song playing in the background.

As he stood, he took a moment to scan the audience, hoping he might see you. He didn't know where your assigned seat was, only that you weren't at one of the tables at the front with the larger groups and celebrities. He knew you were here because of the excited text messages you sent him after you spotted his table.

Dokyeom led the way to the stage. Jihoon reached the microphone and accepted the award, bowing to the MCs. They stepped back and motioned toward the microphone. Dokyeom nodded encouragingly. Jihoon had done this so many times yet completely forgot what he was supposed to do this time. He wished you were on stage with him.

"Thank you, thank you everyone. Thank you to the company and the drama producers for this opportunity. Thank you to the viewers for appreciating the song from rookie OST producers. Thank you to Y/N, who is also here tonight, for elevating the song to what you hear today. She…"

Jihoon trailed off as loud applause covered his voice and people seemed to be looking at the screen behind him. He turned to look and his mind went blank. You looked radiant in your elegant dress and glowing smile.

He'd never seen you in such a beautiful gown (he only saw you in jeans or sweats and he loved that didn't follow all the trends). Your makeup was shimmering on camera (your everyday makeup always wore off by the time you arrived at your late night meetings but you were always beautiful to him). Everything about you was captivating.

He was a man of few words, generally, but right now he was speechless.

Finally, Dokyeom poked his side and nodded toward the microphone forcefully. Jihoon's years of media training kicked in and he turned back to the audience to finish his speech.

"Thank you also to our wonderful singers who brought so much life to the song. I hope we are all able to return to you soon as stronger artists."

When Jihoon returned to his seat, Soonyoung eagerly whispered, "Y/N looks gorgeous, doesn't she? How did you know she was here?"

"I invited her," Jihoon replied. And she does look amazing, he thought to himself.

...

Late that night, many hours later, Jihoon's phone buzzed as he filled a glass of water. He looked at the notification and saw it was a message from you.

[Y/N] 4:13 - Thank you so much for everything. I'm going to remember tonight for the rest of my life. It was an honor to work with you and I'm so proud of the song.

Jihoon looked at the time. Maybe it was too late to call you, but you were clearly up too late thinking about things, just as he was. He tapped the icon to call you and was still a little surprised when you picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi. I just wanted to say it was a privilege to work with you too.” There was a pause and he awkwardly filled it. “The award will be sent to your company after they engrave it.”

“Oh! Thank you. I’ve never won anything before. It still doesn't feel real.”

Jihoon heard a small thump in the background. It sounded like you sat down. He sat down on the couch himself and set his glass on the table in front of him.

“It would be funny if we worked together again and won another award.”

It wouldn’t be funny, Jihoon thought. It was very possible. You were extremely talented. “Why not? You should send me some of your songs.”

You chuckled into his ear. Something about this made his heart beat faster. “I've been thinking about doing that but I didn't know if you would want to listen to my music.”

“Of course I do.”

The line went silent.

Jihoon wondered if you could tell how he felt about you. His friends told him women were more perceptive than they expected, especially if you treat them disrespectfully. He tried to treat everyone with respect. But he wanted more from you. He wanted more with you.

“YN? Are you still there?”

“I am,” you replied quietly.

“After you send me some songs, should we have dinner again? Just us. We can talk about the songs.” He paused, thinking of how to put into words what he felt about you. “And anything else on your mind. I really like it when you tell me what you're thinking about.”

“That would be great. I would love to.” He could hear your smile over the phone.

#seventeen fluff #svt fluff #woozi fluff #jihoon fluff #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #seventeen fanfic #wavelikewhat #woozi fanfic #lee jihoon #jihoon imagines #woozi #jihoon #svt #seventeen #wavelikewhat svt

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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AITA for calling the cops (twice, kind of) on someone in a car who swerved at me on the side of the road?

(Disclaimer: I hate cops. But I felt extremely threatened and wasn't going to let this go without something happening.)

I am a high school student and have not yet gotten my license, and therefore cannot drive alone. To get to school I ride an electric scooter, it looks a bit stupid as a high schooler but it is the only way possible for me to get to school on time. (I have a class before school in the morning, and both parents have work.) I've been doing this for over three years and have had no problems until recently.

Two or three weeks ago, I was on my way home from school. I noticed a car approaching from behind, and moved to the very edge of the road as I would normally. I was literally in the gutter on the side of the road, nowhere near where cars would be. This car, however, then sped up rapidly and swerved within 2-3 feet of hitting me. Probably not trying to actually hit me, but clearly trying to scare me or something of the sort. The person in the passenger seat was screaming the whole time.

The car sped off (I should mention that the speed limit on this road is 25 mph, and the car was going at least 50-60 mph) and after standing in shock for a moment I followed them home since they apparently lived in my neighborhood. I caught two teenage boys leaving the car, and asked if they had been in that car and had swerved at me on the road. They denied everything and went inside the house.

I went home and after a short while, came back with my father to back me up. Asshole move from me, I know, but he insisted on going in case the boys decided to get violent. I made him wait a short distance back, then rang the doorbell. Waited for a while, no answer. They were clearly still inside; the car was still parked on the road nearby and I hadn't been gone for long.

When they didn't answer, I then went home and called the police. I gave them the license plate number and the guy's address, and they said there had been reports of him speeding and being reckless before. The cops went to the house and yelled at them, and I thought it was over then. I most certainly did not want to press the issue any further, the shock and adrenaline was wearing off at this point and I just wanted to be done.

But several days later, I was sent screenshots of the driver of that car spreading hate about me on Snapchat for getting him in trouble. Now this is kind of difficult to explain, but I am unfortunately somewhat well known for riding an electric scooter to school. But up until this point, people just were aware of my existence. After the Snapchat posts and messages about me were spread, all of that turned into pure hate. Every time I was seen with that stupid scooter, people would scream that they wished I would fall and stuff like that. None of this had happened before, and I was (and am) miserable and scared. I don't feel safe anywhere around school because this is still ongoing.

I also tried to contact him via Instagram messages, to which he did not respond. That was three times that I attempted to contact him: first by following him as he was getting out of the car, second by ringing the doorbell, and third by messaging him.

Two days ago, I got my mom to pull me out of school early because I was feeling like crap after some particularly bad harassment in the morning. In the office as I was asking to sign out, I started crying in front of the school police officer, and she asked for the full story. I told her about the online posts and the catcalling and harassment I dealt with every day, and she took it very seriously. I didn't want her to do anything really, but she did anyway (I'm not upset about this honestly, it was probably a good thing). She said that the patrol officers usually didn't do much about stuff like this, but she could and would do a lot more.

She pulled the guy out of his class after I had left to go home, and in her words "put the fear of God in that kid"; telling him he should have lost his license and that since he was 18 he could face real consequences and go to jail for stuff like this. He has been told that he has to stay at least three feet away from me at all times.

Since then, he hasn't said anything to me in person, and hasn't posted anything publicly online. I still don't feel safe at school or anywhere in the area, but I've been taking an alternate route to try to avoid being seen and yelled at as much.

Am I the asshole? I honestly think we both might be, but I do feel somewhat justified by the fact that he at least got some sort of consequence for threatening my life like that and causing that level of problem.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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copperbadge · 5 months

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For New Year's eve I decided I would cook myself some traditional Roman Jewish dishes, partly as an excuse to fry an artichoke. Eventually, I created a menu for myself, the Festa Alla Cinque Cibi or "Feast of the Five Foods" which I talk more about here (scroll down, I promise there's a translation). I decided to stretch the cooking over two days, in part because it's a lot to cook in one day and in part so that if something went wrong I'd have time to correct.

This is the first one I worked on (to give the dough time to rest in the fridge while I made the amaretti) but it will be the dessert course eventually. It's a dish I wanted to try in Rome but didn't get the chance to: Crostata Ricotta e Visciole, ricotta cheesecake baked in a sweet crust with sour cherries. There are a number of variations; I chose this recipe which seemed simple but reasonably accurate. I substituted Bon Maman cherry preserves for the sour cherries, but otherwise the recipe was made as written. AND I got to use my new ten-cup food processor to make the dough!

I called it Crostata Di Due Gatti (Two Cat Pie) for self-evident reasons. I'm only a little bummed I forgot to take a picture of it with the cheese filling on top of the cherry before I put the top crust on.

The bake took longer than 50 minutes to brown the crust, and I have a few suspicions about whether the recipe actually tested those weight measures before throwing them in there. The whole thing was still a little jiggly when I took it out of the oven after 70 minutes. But the thermometer said the interior was above 150F, and because I'm not eating it until tomorrow, I won't know if the cheese filling actually set until I crack it open, which should be a fun surprise.

Conveniently it used three egg yolks, because the next recipe I'm going to post in a bit needed three egg whites...

[ID: Several images from my kitchen. The first shows my new food processor with flour in it, and a small cheerful mixing bowl with a whisk in it where the egg yolks were beaten. The second image shows the dough in the food processor, having come together nicely. In the next row is an image of the dough wrapped in clingfilm, waiting to rest in the fridge; an image of the dough having been pressed into its baking pan, with most of a jar of cherry preserve in the bottom; and a photo of the pie with the crust atop it, shiny with egg wash, with two crust cutouts of cats on top of the plain crust. The final image shows the end result, a baked pie with a golden crust, jam oozing through the edges here and there.]

#sam cooks #food #cheesecake #festa alla cinque cibi

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gunsandspaceships · 1 month

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Many degrees of Doctor Stark

It is widely known that 616 Tony has several doctorates. The number varies from 3 to 7, but it doesn't really matter whether he is 300 or 700% Doctor. He is one. And he doesn’t use his title 99.999% of the time.

Ok, but what about the MCU?

It is never mentioned whether Tony has a PhD or even a master's degree. Kinda weird. Both the absence of mentions and lack of degrees, since Tony is so smart and productive.

Let’s check, maybe he actually has some.

Here we have a file from a deleted scene from The Avengers (2012):

As we can see, the work is sloppy – there are inaccuracies in his hair color (it’s not black, it’s brown), and the fact that he speaks French was not included. Can we rely on this paper? Let’s not 100%, but we can still use things that don't contradict the movies.

The fact that he received his BS in Engineering from MIT does not contradict this, so we can mark it as valid. He started in 1984 when he was 14 years old and graduated in 1987 when he was 17.

We see no further education in the file. But we know something that this file doesn’t. We watched the movies.

Remember, in Civil War at 0:13:25, in the scene where Tony sees his parents for the last time, Maria tells Howard, “Be nice, dear, he’s been studying abroad”. Tony is 21 here, this is December 16, 1991. Looks like he is on winter break.

But wait… Didn’t he graduate in 1987 and stop then? Well, Maria tells us he continued.

Between 17 and 21 there are 4 years. What could he have done in these 4 years? A lot, right? He is smart and productive, we know that. A master’s degree usually takes 2 years. Tony could earn it in 1. 1 or 2, we still have 2-3 years that we need to fill with some kind of studying. I doubt he just went back and got another bachelor's or master's. That said, he was working on his PhD.

We don't know where. “Abroad” is a very broad concept. Maybe he went to Europe to study at Oxford? We do not know. Perhaps he stayed at MIT and just went somewhere else for the fall semester. We do not know. But he did go somewhere for (most probably) a PhD.

The question is: did he finish it?

Well, his parents died in Dec 1991, and we know from the first Iron Man (0:04:50) that Stane was the interim president of Stark Industries from that date until 1992. Most likely, Tony became CEO before his birthday, that is, May 29, which corresponds to the stated age of 21. He had a few months between.

We don’t know where he was in his degree at that time. But we know he is smart and productive. He doesn’t need 4 years to write a dissertation.

So, there are 2 options:

1) He did not complete his doctorate and devoted himself entirely to the company;

2) He completed it in the few months he had and then took over the company.

Here’s the evidence for the second option:

“Confusing matters more, a recently deleted LinkedIn profile for Tony Stark indicated he received doctorates in engineering physics and artificial intelligence.”

Source: https://alum.mit.edu/slice/who-iron-man

Given all the information and analysis we have, as well as a little logic, we can conclude that Tony has a Ph.D. Even two. He had time to do them. Why doesn't he use his title? Well, maybe for the same reason 616 Tony doesn’t? He doesn’t usually brag. Check out this post if you have any doubts about my statement.

Here are some additional hints:

He gave lectures at scientific conferences (IM1 and IM3 - Bern 1999).

His scientific expertise was not limited to engineering and his company's affairs (all the movies, but specifically I can point you to IM3– the scene with Maya Hansen and her Extremis-enhanced plants in Bern).

“He must have graduated after 1990, because the '90 Brass rat was the first one with the skyline on the edge.” MIT alumni commentary https://alum.mit.edu/slice/who-iron-man

Conclusion (actual): call him Doctor Stark, guys, he deserves it. Despite his modesty about his scientific achievements, Dr Stark has a couple of master's degrees and at least two PhD degrees in the MCU - in engineering physics and artificial intelligence.

#tony stark #iron man #marvel #mcu #the avengers #iron man 3 #captain america civil war #doctor stark

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