#disturb manic girl

[ksmutau]

I made an UTAU cover of "Disturb Manic Girl" by rerulili with Kopane Trine & Tomene Karoku! ^-^ YT: youtu.be/wO_pIIar4ls?si=cRvfyaTPk_9dKoeU SC: https://soundcloud.com/ksm-84375112/disturb-manic-girlutau

[glamorouspoets]

[notrealmylove]

Am I the child of divorce?

I am seeing a guy, a really nice one. He treats me well and I really like him or atleast I try to but why is it, that everytime our hangout is over I feel repelled by his presence? I am grossed out by something that would be a good portion of normality in my destroyed life. My parents never told me about love and I am like a child when it comes to it. I do not know how to act when I am around him other than ro treat him like a friend of mine a bro almost. I do not know how to feel. I crave his affection but I fear it at the same time. He is the first guy that I want to spend my time sober with. I want him o take care of me. I dont want to have to think all the tme about everything. I just want it to stop and be easier. But it is never easy. It should be but he consumes all my thoughts and now I know why my parents thought their relationship was good. Because it was easy for them, because they did not feel enough. Their unability to feel caused me to feel everything. Their seperation caused my attachment.

[evilminji]

*Distant sound of frantic running growing closer*

*I throw open the door with manic eyes, breathing heavily*

Hatsume Mei! The Fenton's! Oh DEAR LORD. The Couple, the Doctors Fenton... would think she's A Lovely Young Lady ™! Normal even! Charming! I bet the Hatsume Adults would find to be a Charming And Upstanding Young Lad!

JAPAN ISNT READY.

If the GIW got out of hand? And Amity, as a town? Said "fuck ya'll we taken our ball and going home"? All they'd NEED to do? Is shut down the portal, get the skilled portal makers stationed at side A of town to open it up, rip the whole thing up, have the mover ghosts push it IN, aaaaaand? Everyone in? Good! We close it from the inside!

Fuck those guys.

Okay, so, I'm Jerry. You're real estate officer, we got some GREAT options for you this season! How do feel about ninjas? No? Pirates? Not feeling it? Superheroes? Seeing some interest! We got a- *continues their pitch as Amity is moved*

Amity get phased into the Japanese countryside.

What do you MEAN "there wasn't a town here?" Of course there way! We have roads and everything! Why are we all Americans? What're you a cop? Mind your business, spandex man.

.....yeah, they're gonna call this one a "Quirk accident".

Pay your taxes, folks, and we promise not to care!

Fenton's? Back in business, baby! Well, never STOPPED being in business. But details! They're now a "support company"! And yes! The quotation marks ARE on all their documents AND signs! They think it's stupid!

But you want lazers?

Oh ho hoooo~ DO WE HAVE LAZERS!!!

Maddie n Jack start hitting the scene. Conventions. Conferences. Fancy parties. Weirdly? They "unnerve" people. Cowards.

Until? Gasp? They meet just the LOVELIEST couple! Who are so FUN! Who ALSO has a daughter? Danny's age no less! Oh she is just PRECIOUS? Is that her first bomb? Aaaaaw~♡.

Danny feels a disturbance in the force.

Like... like his folks are... are about to try and introduce him to a Nice Young Girl again. The last time this happened was at mom's fighting competitions. She ended up being some sort of assassin royalty. Thankfully, she accepted he could commit to a life of murder, since he wanted to be an astronaut, but it was like this whole THING and- you know what? Not important!

Where are his parents!?

(Planning his wedding! Gotta incorporate BOTH the family's completely batshit Family Traditions!)

[pretty-little-mind33]

uhhhh please tangerine lemon and handler/agent!Reader playing scrabble or monopoly to relax but it's so incredibly not relaxing

this sound so damn fun! enjoy! for fem!reader

~ * ~

"You're a fuckin' cheater," Tangerine hisses as he sulks on the floor. He had completely given up on being a civilized person once the game had become heated. His hair is messy from the constant re-arranging and he keeps loosening his tie like it's suffocating him.

Somehow, It tends to always become heated when playing monopoly with the Twins, so you aren't surprised by Tangerine's manic state. Lemon rolls the dice, ignoring his brother as he delicately moves his thimble.

He's winning.

"Next fuckin' time, I'm the fuckin' bank. I can't trust you for shit," Tangerine piped up again, groaning in frustration as Lemon passes his properties, safely landing on the starting square.

"Paying up, double this time," Lemon smirks as he reaches into the bank and taps his index on the starting square.

"Oi! No! Since when is it double if you land on it?!" Tangerine argues, grabbing the bank and sliding it towards him on his side. Lemon yanks it back, his eyes dark as he sends Tangerine a glare.

"Since forever," you add quietly, organizing your property cards. Tangerine sends you a glare.

"Whose side are you on, love?"

You shrug and smile, still very sleepy. "The winning side so this can be over with and I can finally sleep," you reason with a yawn. You're completely losing the game but it doesn't matter. All you wanted was a relaxing evening.

You should have never let Lemon suggest monopoly.

Tangerine grumbles something under his breath, seeing how sleepy you've become. He does feel bad since the mission has been stressful, mostly because of him, and now he's stressing you out again.

"C'mere," he mumbles as he leans against the sofa, opening one arm so you can move closer.

You happily shift over and sink your nose into Tangerine's chest as your eyes flutter shut. His hand finds your head, massaging a gentle circle with his hand as you hum, feeling yourself drift into sleep. The game has completely slipped your mind.

"Y/n, it's your turn," Lemon hands you to dice.

Tangerine takes them instead. "She's with me now."

"That's not how that works," Lemon begins.

"One more word from you and I'll shove these monopoly bills so far up your ass you'll be coughing up fake money for days," Tangerine quips, his voice eerily calm.

You wince at his vulgarity, but you're too exhausted to speak up, as you tighten your grip around his sleeve and watch through the slit between your eyelashes as Lemon scrunches up his nose and hits his brother's shin from underneath the coffee table.

"Bastard," Tangerine hissed and clutches his leg.

"Fuckin' language!" Lemon scolds, eyebrows scrunched.

Tangerine kicks him right back, hitting the small table with his knee and scattering some monopoly money onto the carpet. His movement causes you to hum and he freezes, looking at your sleepy state.

"You fu—"

"Shut up," Tangerine whispers harshly, snapping his head towards Lemon as he rests his hand on your head again. Your breathing has slowed and your eyes are fully shut. "She's asleep."

Lemon calms down, slowly picking up the bills as he sends his brother a knowing look. Tangerine is stroking your hair, the game completely abandoned as he focuses on you and making sure no one disturbs your slumber.

"Fuckin' whipped as shit," Lemon mutters, cleaning up the game as he suppresses a smirk. "I win, ya twat," he taunts but Tangerine isn't even listening.

His gaze is locked onto you, watching your chest rise and fall. You look so peaceful and his stomach flips. He knows. He knows instantly that Lemon isn't the one who won.

No. Because how could Lemon have won when you're the only prize that truly matters? And you're not Lemon's girl, you're his girl.

He's fuckin' won.

[juliana-jones]

My co-author @writtenriley and I are thrilled to present our self-published novella “Over the Dragon’s Gate,” a dark paranormal romance/urban fantasy. You’ve heard of manic pixie dream girl, now get ready for sad pond-monster dream boy!

Summary: Treya has everything he needs in his pond: food, shelter, and other fish to swim with. It’s painful to wonder if he had another life once, so he ignores the fragments of disturbing dreams that plague him.

But when a boy falls into his pond, Treya discovers he’s more than a fish. He can also become a boy, and now he has a friend: the irrepressible Eli. During secret meetings in the garden surrounding the pond, Treya and Eli forge a bond that even dark magic can’t break. But when Eli starts asking questions about who and what Treya is, the two of them discover that questions are dangerous, answers have a cost, and their fates depend on unraveling the mystery of Treya’s past.

Comps: It has "That Story Isn't the Story" vibes mixed with "Room."

Word count: 44k

Smashwords

Kindle

Kobo

Goodreads

Soundtrack

Content warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, gaslighting, memory loss, amnesia, mind manipulation, mind control, implied noncon (in the background, due to the mind control), crying (a lot of crying), vomit, underage drinking, implied/referenced drug use, car accidents, child neglect, child abuse, murder, kidnapping, imprisonment, magical imprisonment, trauma, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt (planned but not carried out), death threats, fantasy racism

“…[A] delightful read, full of magic and touching moments of humanity in the face of darkness.”

~Arista A. Holmes, author of the Fey Touched Trilogy

“This is a rollercoaster… There are thrilling twists and turns, enough mystery to keep you going, and a satisfying payoff at the end.”

~E, Goodreads review

“It’s got… a lush fairytale manner about it but hides dark secrets.”

~Oliver Ferrie, author of Sugar People

[mykoreanlove]

oopsie daisy 🌼

The annoying sound of Felix’ alarm was disturbing the silence of the late afternoon. With eyes closed he searched for his phone and shut it off. A deep groan escaped his lips, followed by a sharp pain in his head.

“Why did I drink that much”, he scolded himself.

Yesterday’s party got out of hand quickly – what should have been an intimate gathering with some close friends at Changbin’s turned into a massive bash. Felix tried to remember last night’s events, but his mind went blank for the most part. Anxiety formed in his stomach as he did not like to feel helpless, out of control.

He heard a knock on his door and flinched in pain.

“Can I come in?”

It was Chan.

“Yeah, sure”, Felix answered in a deep, raspy voice.  

His friend opened the door with a big glass of water and headache pills in hand, already knowing that Felix would need them.

“Here”, he gave them to his younger friend.

Felix had trouble sitting up as his head felt dizzy and his stomach seemed nauseous. He gathered his remaining strength and gulped down the water, hoping to feel better quickly.

“Do you have any memories of last night?”, Chan asked cautiously.

Instantly, the anxiety in his stomach grew bigger. Felix shook his head, too nervous to ask what he had done.

“Do you wanna know?”, Chan offered politely.

Felix took a deep sigh, trying to calm his nerves. “I don’t know if I want to?”

“Oh, trust me. You do want to know.”, Chan chuckled amused.

“Okay”, Felix sighed in defeat and curled into a ball while hugging his plushie. “Tell me what happened last night.”

“…yeah, and then you vanished into the kitchen and played UNO for hours. Changbin told me that you downed a shot each time you lost, so apparently you drank a lot. And after that you walked around whispering “Wakey wakey” into the girls’ ears, going as low as you can. I saw you run around laughing manically and trying to escape many girls that night. Oh, and after your little striptease dance break you spilled your drink all over your chest and ran into the bathroom.”, Chan re-collected.

Felix was embarrassed but so far, he didn’t do anything horrendous.

“And after that you came running to me, all nervous and agitated and you muttered something about kissing y/n.”

Felix shot up alarmed, instantly regretting it though as his head was still pounding heavily.

“I did what??”

“Yeah”, Chan confirmed in a reserved manner.

“I kissed y/n? Lee Know’s girl y/n???”

Panic arose in his body as he could not believe it.

Did I really do that? Why? What was I thinking?

“Don’t you remember anything at all?”

Felix shook his head ashamed.

“No, not a single thing.”

Chan sighed. “Well, do you like her?”

Felix’ eyes widened in surprise.

Like her? Do I like y/n? Is this what this is?

“I mean I like her as a friend. As a person. But she is Lee Know’s girlfriend, and I never saw her another way. Shit, Chan, I fucked up. How do I tell him?”

Felix already envisioned the worst. It was bad enough that he had kissed his friend’s girlfriend, but it was even worse since it was Lee Know. The unforgiving, dangerous menace Lee Know.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Lix.”

Felix got up, entirely ignoring the condition of his body.

“What? Does he already know? Did he see us?”

Felix was on the verge of breaking down – he’d either cry or vomit or do both, his nerves were getting the best of him.

“Nah, but you kind of kissed him, too.”

“What????” Felix' deep voice turned into a high-pitched one, each shock making it even more shrill.

Chan laughed amused.

“Yeah, that was kind of the highlight of last night. You came up to me and explained that you kissed y/n and you felt so bad about it and didn’t want Lee Know to be mad at you, so you walked up to him and kissed him as well. In a room full of people might I add.”

Felix clasped his hands over his head, bewildered and confused.

“You’re fucking with me, right? Is that some cruel joke? Please tell me Seungmin is standing behind the curtains and filming this. Please, Chan.”

Chan ruffled through Felix’ blonde hair and flashed him a warm smile.

“It’s real, Lix. Why don’t you check your phone if you don’t believe me?”

Chan got up and left, leaving Felix alone with his thoughts.

My phone..

Felix searched his bed, shuffling aside pillows and plushies until he finally found his phone and turned it on again. He received a lot of messages after leaving the party but there were only two that caught his attention.

What the fuck did I do?

[sharksupermacy]

on your mind

on your mind- haerin x lee! trainee! reader

synopsis: pt 2 of on your mind

genre: crack, lee hyein being a menance, reader being a little goofy, a bit of flirty reader pt.1

after meeting up with haerin you headed over to another café to meet with your little sister hyein. ruffling her hair through your hoodie as you sat across from her, who had already bought you a drink.

"AWWEEEEE, my little sister is actually being nice and not being a little ankle biter," you gushed out to your little sister, sarcastically pinching her cheeks while she swatted you away.

"you know, i'm just as grown as you," hyein groaned.

"sure, you are sweetheart," you said believably. you patted her hair , ruining it more.

as she was trying to fix her hair for the 14th time since the start of the meet, she asked you why you were late, as it was unusual to be a minute late to your meetups. with your reply being that you had to meet up with your school partner friend to hand off a project because she couldn't make it due to a scheduling conflict. after both of you finished with your drinks, hyein decided that she wanted you to meet her members soon as it would be nearly impossible because of promotions. so she asked you if you were free and if you would like to meet her members. to which you responded yes, excited to meet her members, buying little gifts with hyein before going to the dorm.

hyein texted the group chat that she was going to bring over her sibling, and all of the group members, thinking it would be her two oldest siblings, shrugged it off and replied, Ok. imagine the shock when hyein walked in with someone who was not either one of those siblings; it was the elusive third sibling, whom no one had ever seen except in childhood pictures. it was dani who was the first to see you with your short hair, baggy clothing, tall frame, and how you looked nothing like hyein at all. she froze from pure shock in her spot on the couch.

quickly bowing to her, you headed to hyein's room, where hanni was still struggling with writing lyrics. you sat down with hyein, asking her where you should leave the gifts you had bought for her members. Her response was, "just give them it and tell them that you're my sibling." hanni being the ever-curious being that she is, decided to peek down from her top bunk, saw you and hyein talking, and went back to her writing. she did a double take when she realized that you weren't any of the two siblings she thought were coming over.

"IS THAT YOUR THIRD SIBLING HYEIN?!???" she screeched out from her top bunk, gaining the attention of minji, who had just come home, and snapped dani out of a trance who was on the couch.

you were scared the hell out of because you didn't know that hanni was up there and that she could yell so loud. hearing the scream, the australian and fake canadian ran as fast as they could to the shared bedroom.

"hanni, what's wrong," questioned minji who was concerned. seeing hanni was pointing behind her towards hyein bed, she turned around slowly, only to see hyein and her project partner there.

WAIT. her project partner is there "why are you here y/n? wait scratch that how did you even get in here," she questioned you as you pointed towards sister to explain.

the youngest finally decided to introduce you, "girls this is my older "mysterious" sibling y/n. y/n these are my members: hanni on the bunk bed; danielle is the one with the curly hair , and i assume you already know minji the third tallest person here right now."

"third? you are hardly taller than me, hyein," minji started to bicker with hyein, who was manically laughing at her own joke.

haerin sensing a disturbance in her dorm, ended up venturing outside of her shared room towards the loud noises in the other bedroom. oddly enough, she couldn't understand the fuss of having one of hyein siblings over, as they had all met the two eldest before. until she saw you sitting quietly leaning on hyein bed frame, watching the chaos unfold between her members.

"y/n?" she muttered out, still catching your attention as you smiled in her direction. she ducked between her fighting members, and quietly took your hand and led you into another room. funnily enough, nobody had noticed the disappearance of the two parties.

"why are you here?" she stated it as if you had just committed a severe crime punishable by death.

"i didn't know my sister had a attractive member," you answered trying to flirt with her hoping to ease the tension a bit.

"oh, who's your sister? is it hyein?" she asked because you shared a common last name.

"yea, but i don't really come over because trainee schedules are a bit brutal over at jyp... but i surely can make more of an effort for you," you said laughing. you glanced over at clock widening your eyes a bit realizing you definitely had practice soon. "such a shame I have to end this conversation with such a pretty person," you said with a pout, "but.. if you ever do find yourself with a bit of extra time, feel free to get my number from my sister to text me." you said while running back towards the other room hugging your younger sister saying you had to go practice now. messing her hair up and bowing to the three olders before sprinting out the door leaving the dorm.

confusion was left in the dorm from that visit.

it was 2 weeks since the day haerin had encountered you. strangely enough it was only 2 days that she caved and asked for hyein for your number. however, with the number saved in her contacts you would think she would text you but she hasn't.

fed up and annoyed about haerin reluctance to contact you in the 2 weeks she had your number decided as the lovely cupid that she is to text you from your phone.

###-####-###: hey!!! it's haerin wait no your sister. you know what i mean-

y/n lee: LEE HYEIN. first off how did you get haerin phone,- bro get off it- it's not yours leave haerin phone alone.

pretty newjeans member: oooo.. getting jealous are we-

y/n lee: no??? why do you even have HER phone LEE HYEIN.

pretty newjeans member: BECAUSE SHE WAS TO CHICKEN TO ASK YOU ON A DSTE-OMG HAWN UNbIE IS ABCK_ HAEFJKDP-SHECHoKINGMEFSLK

y/n lee: HA ! THATS WHAT YOU GET! OH! can you tell her i would also like to go on a date with her too!

pretty newjeans member:👍

you smiled at your screen and giggled at hyein antics about getting you and her member together. going back to scribbling down lyric ideas in your book about as you daydream about your date with haerin. 

a/n: just a small continuation of on your mind. bro. i've been playing rhythm hybe for the past like week and i have not stopped- help- (also im watching swf2 its super good)

[stnkiconverse]

you're going to do it, and you're getting away with it. you know that.

Ch.8 - Move.

⇠ Previous

Next ⇢

genre: psychological horror (in a way), creepypasta, supernatural thriller (in a way)

pairing: none. (yet;) )

WC: 2.5k

content warnings: echoes in the static contains scenes and themes that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers, including: graphic violence and murder, mental illness and psychological distress, suicide and self-harm, domestic abuse, cannibalism and strong language.

Reader discretion is advised.

Yes this has to do with Creepypastas. Yes, Creepypastas will pop up and make appearances, it's basically a reader insert into the Creepypasta word.

do not repost my work anywhere, I only post in Tumblr.

The flower shop should have closed an hour ago, but you linger, waiting for the moment when the streets are entirely empty, save for the two figures standing just outside. Their silhouettes are dark against the streetlights, unmoving as if they're statues waiting to come to life. You know they're watching you, have been watching you since Lisa left, and you can feel the anticipation building within you, your heart pounding in time with the seconds that tick by.

Your hand brushes the duffel bag under the counter. Inside, the axe rests, ready to be drawn, its cold steel offering a promise of the violence to come. But not yet.

There's a thrill in the waiting, in drawing them in, making them believe they have the upper hand. You allow yourself a small, calculated smile as you stand and head toward the door, making sure to keep your eyes on them-unblinking, so they don't vanish like mirages.

You open the door slowly, the creak of the hinges loud in the still ni ght air.

You lean against the doorframe, your smile widening as you catch their attention. "Need anything? Why don't you come in?" you say, your voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness that barely conceals the malice beneath.

They exchange a glance, something dark and knowing passing between them before they step inside. Jeff, with his grotesque, carved smile, and Toby, with that unsettling gash on his cheek, walk in as if they belong here, as if this were their domain. You close the door behind them, the soft click of the lock sealing you in together.

The shop is dark, the dim lights casting long shadows across the walls. It's quiet, too quiet, but it's the kind of silence that hums with potential energy, ready to explode at any moment. You walk back to the counter, each step deliberate, your pulse quickening with every inch that brings you closer to the axe hidden just out of sight. You lean casually against the counter, your smile now a thin line of anticipation.

"So what was it?" you ask, voice low and taunting. "Frank? Mary? The cute little couple? Tell me, which one caught your attention?"

Jeff leans back against the wall, his smile widening into something obscene, something that belongs more in a nightmare than reality.

"We've been watching you for a while," he says, his voice a deep, scratchy, gravelly rumble. "You've got a real knack for this sort of thing. But Frank... he was fun."

Toby, standing just a step behind him, stutters slightly as he speaks, his voice dripping with mockery. "Y-you really p-put on a show with that one. K-kinda hot, actually."

Your fingers tighten around the handle of the axe inside the duffel bag, your patience wearing thin. The time for games is over. You slowly unzip the bag, the sound almost lost in the tension-filled silence. But they notice. Jeff's grin only widens, sensing the shift in the air.

"So, you're fans? Admirers? Or just creeps who get off on watching?" you ask, your tone hardening as the playful edge disappears.

Jeff's laugh is rough, almost manic, filling the small space with its grating sound. "Creeps? Fuck yeah, maybe. But we're not the ones leaving corpses with pretty little flowers stuck to them, are we? There's something about a girl with an axe that just... does it for me."

"You've got spirit, b-but let's see if you've got the guts," Toby adds, his eyes raking over you with a twisted sort of admiration. "I like a girl w-who knows how to use an axe."

You've heard enough. Your hand tightens around the axe's handle, and with a swift, powerful motion, you pull it free and swing at Jeff. The blade slices through the air with deadly precision, aimed right for his head. But Jeff moves faster than you expect, dodging the blow with a speed that sends the axe slamming into the wooden wall behind him, splinters flying everywhere.

"Feisty!" Jeff growls, clearly enjoying the thrill of the fight. "You know, I like it when they fight back."

Without hesitation, you yank the axe free, ready to strike again, but they're already on you. Jeff and Toby move like shadows, their movements almost too fast to follow as they slip past your attacks, dodging each swing, each stab, with ease. It's infuriating, the way they toy with you, their grins never wavering.

Your breath comes in sharp bursts, your frustration mounting with every missed strike. You're good—no, you're great-but they're better. Still, you refuse to back down. You grab the sharp scissors from the counter, your grip tightening as you change tactics. When Jeff gets too close, you lash out, the blade slicing through his arm. Blood spatters, but it only seems to excite him more.

"Now we're getting somewhere,"

Jeff laughs, his voice edged with manic glee. "If you wanted to get close, sweetheart, you could've just asked."

Without missing a beat, you grab his wounded arm, yanking him close and driving the scissors into his stomach.

The blade sinks deep, and for a moment, you see the flash of pain in his eyes. But it's fleeting, replaced almost immediately by that maddening grin.

"Is that all you've got?" Jeff rasps, blood dribbling from his mouth.

"You're gonna have to do better than that."

You shove him back, watching him stumble, but before you can capitalize on the moment, Toby charges at you, relentless. You barely manage to grab a nearby vase and hurl it at his face. The vase shatters against his cheek, sending shards of glass flying. Toby staggers, momentarily disoriented, but the grin on his face only widens.

"Nice shot," Toby sneers, wiping the blood from his face with a wicked smirk. "B-but you'll have to try harder than that, sweetheart."

Before you can respond, the back door creaks open.

"Y/N? You okay? Sorry, I just forgot my pho-" Lisa's voice cuts through the chaos like a knife.

You freeze. The sight of Lisa standing in the doorway, her expression shifting from concern to shock, sends a jolt of something-fear, anger, you're not sure-through you. But it's short-lived. Instinct takes over, you drop the pair of scissors and reach for the axe.

In one swift, brutal motion, you turn and swing the axe. The blade connects with Lisa's forehead, splitting her skull with a sickening crack. Blood sprays, and her body crumples to the floor with a heavy thud.

For a moment, the world goes silent.

The weight of what you've just done hits you like a freight train, but you can't afford to dwell on it. There are bigger problems now-two of them, in fact.

With a growl of frustration, you spin back around, adrenaline surging. You throw the axe at Jeff, who's grinning like a madman, but Toby shoves him out of the way just in time. The axe slams into the wall again, and you realize, with cold clarity, that you're outmatched.

Jeff and Toby close in, their movements calculated, confident.

You duck behind the counter, your mind racing. You can't afford to lose control. As you crouch, your hand brushes against the sharp scissors you used earlier. Grabbing them, you prepare yourself, refusing to let fear take over.

Just as Toby reaches over the counter, you spring up, slashing at him. The blade cuts across his cheek, the same one already marred by the vase shards. Blood trickles down, but his grin doesn't waver.

"You're making this fun," Jeff hisses, his voice a mix of pain and exhilaration. "But you're outnumbered, sweetheart."

Jeff moves faster than you can react, swiping the axe from the wall. He wields it with a sinister ease, his manic grin never fading.

You refuse to back down. As he closes in, you slash at him with the scissors, managing to land a deep cut on his other arm. He winces but doesn't stop, his eyes gleaming with twisted enjoyment.

With the odds stacked against you, your mind races for a way out. You grab the nearest object—another heavy flower vase, a much bigger one —and hurl it at Toby's head. The vase shatters on impact, sending him reeling backward, giving you the opening you need, Jeff drops the axe and you grab it.

Before they can recover, you bolt for the back door, your axe still in hand.

You don't look back as you disappear into the night, taking a winding, familiar path home where no one can see you.

The adrenaline pulses through your veins, making your limbs feel both weightless and leaden as you make your way through the shadows. The path is quiet, secluded, and you're thankful for it. By the time you reach your door, you're exhausted, every muscle screaming for rest.

You drop your axe by the door and stumble into your bed, not bothering to remove your shoes. The moment your head hits the pillow, you're out, sleep claiming you almost immediately.

—————————————————————————

When you wake, sunlight is already filtering through the blinds, harsh and unforgiving. Every muscle in your body aches from the fight, but there's a sick satisfaction deep in your chest. You survived.

You reach for the remote, turning on the TV as you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The local news flickers to life, the anchor's monotonous voice droning on until the words "Local Flower Shop Burned Down Overnight" make your heart skip a beat.

The screen shows the smoldering remains of the shop, firefighters still working to put out the last of the flames. You feel a cold chill run down your spine, but it's quickly replaced by a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Jeff and Toby had destroyed the evidence, ensuring that no one would ever know what happened there last night. But it also means one thing: the police are going to be all over this.

You know you have to leave Greenville. The police are already suspicious of you, and with the shop destroyed and Lisa dead, it won't take them long to connect the dots.

You have to disappear, and you have to do it now.

But not without one last act. One final spree to leave your mark on this town forever.

You stand in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. You look like hell- dark circles under your eyes, your skin now pale and slick with sweat. But there's a fire in your eyes, a hunger that burns hotter than ever.

You can't leave Greenville without one final act of defiance. One last spree that will haunt this town long after you're gone.

You pack your weapons-your axe, a few knives, and whatever else you can find. You know exactly who your targets will be. The people who have wronged you, who have looked down on you, who have made your life hell.

You wait until night.

Your first stop is close to home- a neighbor who has always been a thorn in your side. They're outside, tending to their garden, completely unaware of the danger lurking just behind the fence. You wait, your breath steady, your grip on the axe firm. When the moment is right, you strike. The blade slices through the air, connecting with flesh and bone.

The neighbor's body crumples to the ground, lifeless. You drop a small petal right next to your now deceased neighbor.

You don't linger. You move quickly, efficiently, leaving the body behind as you make your way to your next target—a former employer. You slip into the building unnoticed, your footsteps silent on the tile floor. The boss is working late, just as you'd expected. He doesn't even see you coming. The axe slams into his neck with ease, his body slumping over the desk in front of him. You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, "This is for everything you ever did to me."

You leave a single flower petal on his desk, a final message to anyone who finds him—a petal from a red spider lily, the symbol of a final goodbye.

Your spree continues, each kill more brutal than the last. A random stranger on the street, caught off guard by the blade of your axe. A police officer, targeted specifically to send a message.

With each kill, you leave behind a calling card—a petal from the red spider lily, each one a cold, silent farewell.

As the night wears on, the bodies pile up. The town is in chaos, sirens blaring in the distance as the police scramble to contain the madness.

But you're always one step ahead, moving through the shadows with lethal precision.

Your final target is someone who has always been just out of reach—a high-ranking official, someone who has the power to ruin lives with a single decision. You've been planning this one for a while, waiting for the perfect moment. And now it has arrived.

You approach his house under the cover of darkness, your heart pounding with anticipation. The windows are dark, the street quiet.

Perfect.

You slip inside, moving through the house like a ghost. Your target is asleep in his bed, completely unaware of the danger lurking just beyond the door. You stand over him for a moment, savoring the power you hold in your hands. Then, with a swift, brutal motion, you bring the axe down.

The blade connects with a sickening thud, blood spraying across the room. Your target doesn't even have time to scream.

You stand there for a moment, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

The room is silent, save for the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You look down at the body, at the blood pooling around it, and feel a sense of satisfaction settle over you.

This is it. The final goodbye.

You reach into your pocket and pull out a single red spider lily petal. You place it on the pillow next to your target's head, a final message to the town you're leaving behind.

You don't look back as you leave the house, the darkness swallowing you whole. You have one final task before you can disappear for good.

You arrive in Tuscaloosa under the cover of darkness, just as you had planned. Two duffel bags propped on your shoulder, one with your axe and a couple knives, and the other with as many clothes you could fit in it.

You have a new place waiting for you, a small, nondescript apartment on the outskirts of town. It isn't much, but it's perfect for laying low. Plus, it’s near the woods. Something you’ve been planning to explore since you rented the apartment. 

As you unpack your things, you can't shake the feeling of satisfaction that lingers in your chest. You've done it.

You've left your mark on Greenville, and now you're free to start over.

But even as you settle into your new life, you can't stop thinking about the thrill of the kill. The way it made you feel alive, invincible. You know it won't be long before the hunger returns, before you're driven to kill again.

But for now, you'll lay low, bide your time, and wait for the perfect moment. And when it comes, you'll be ready.

Tuscaloosa looks like the perfect place to wreak havoc in.

FUCK COLLEGE😡

i don’t like this chapter lol 

Who’s gonna tell her who lives in the woods of Tuscaloosa??? 👀

Once you’re done reading this, go vote on this!! It is VITAL for the story, pinky promise.

🏷️: @mimmickmouse @stranger-of-the-internet @akashic06072007 @hey-an-original-url

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

Ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok. So. The Yotsuba Arc.

While there isn't an insignificant minority of people in the fandom who share my train of thought, the two opinions I've really seen throughout my time with these motherfuckers (2017 to present) have been either A) the Yotsuba Arc is the worst part of the L v Kira but because Light became un-evil/they didn't try hard enough to make Lights characterization consistent or B) the Yotsuba Arc is the best part of the entire thing because Light became a precious uwu bean baby. While I can see how both of these opinions sprung from the ground, they are also BOTH WRONG

Allow me to explain:

It's made clear from the start that Light Yagami is not inherently an evil human being; just a judgement-challenged adolescent (as all are) who got kind of excited about the possibility of a magic notebook and didn't really consider the consequences of his actions. He asks himself "if someone dies, would that make me a murderer?" and then dismisses the question outright because "no one will die". While refusing to think through the philosophy and continuing on to test IF someone will die may seem callous (it is) it's not done out of apathy or hatred, just short-sightedness and curiosity (also age-typical. I say this as an 18 year old). We know this because, in the manga, he literally throws up when he realizes what exactly he's done. Also, we know that he never actually had a plan for the death note until AFTER he starts rationalizing away this really heinous, reprehensible act (that HE RECOGNIZES - "those were human lives, this can't be overlooked"), driving the point home. He starts writing names because he doesn't know how to live with what he's done otherwise. We watch him quickly spiral out of sanity (he's laughing five days in, roughly 60 names minimum).

I could elaborate on this as well but the point we're moving for here is leading to the Yotsuba arc.

The writing also goes out of its way to show that Light is not special in this regard. Misa Amane is just as flippant, if not more so, of human life, even though she was presumably a semi-normal, if traumatized, girl (especially considering what we see of her just literally living life through Gelus). Higuchi starts as an un-empathetic greedy business man and spirals into full manic cackling as he's on his way to slaughter likely an entire studio of people. Mikami... well, I really can't say anything about Mikami. He's just like that ig lmao.

On top of that, there's the assertion that the death note is a curse by Soichiro and L. Not literally, metaphorically... like watch the scene... but the point is the exchange has the purpose of philosophically pointing out that killing humans removes your own humanity as well. That's what Kira-Light is missing: humanity.

With that set up in mind, (and that set up is really the only reason we have to care about the Yotsuba arc, it's IMPORTANT), let's look at Yotsuba-Light.

It's at this point in the story that we ascertain not only what the manga/anime considers humanity, but also what it considers fundamentally LIGHT.

What changes with the revival of Light's humanity (take a shot every time I say humanity):

He is no longer willing to purposefully manipulate romantic emotions, and is in fact disturbed by the thought

He strongly values the preservation of human life, look at that scene where he poses as L

I wouldn't say he's more honest, but he's more open. He freely compliments, he fully faces people when they're speaking, (he gets those fuckin doe eyes GOD I wanna eat him), he expresses his emotions including anger, and he doesn't wait to be asked for his opinion, likely out of a desire to participate in general

He is genuinely upset when he realizes some of his hypothetical values align with Kira's enacted ones, because he thinks the method Kira went about accomplishing it was bad

What DOESN'T change (the fun part):

He's a snarky motherfucker (comments towards Ryuk + "that is his specialty" RUDE MY GOOD SIR)

He's damn good at lying when he wants to (all of his time as Kira + talking to Namikawa)

He's fucking batshit insane, Mr I Put A Bomb In My Desk and PUNCHED THE WORLD'S GREATEST DETECTIVE WHO HOLDS YOUR LIFE IN HIS HANDS IN THE FACE S I R

He's fucking brilliant. The loss of his memories does not reduce his ability to keep up with L in the slightest.

He cares about morality. That never changes, just his perception of it.

He is not interested in women

Whatever the hell that antagonistic punch you beat-for-beat dynamic is that he has with L 🤨

The entire point of the Yotsuba arc is to highlight these changes, highlight what exactly we're losing and how far Light is going, without even having to show us flashbacks into his boring past with no antagonistic morally dubious genius detective for him to bounce off of. It's an ingenuitive, inventive, honestly phenomenal piece of character-study stakes-raising writing all wrapped up as actually a huge master plan that eventually leads to Kira's win, and I would kiss Ohba and Obata on the mouth about it if they weren't so misogynistic. It's also why Light is my favorite character.

Also I'd like to point out that Light regains his humanity and is immediately attached 24/7 to literally the least human man you'll ever meet and they're both obsessed with each other, and I don't think the personal consequences of that is explored NEARLY enough. Personally the idea that the perception flips from "the 'good' detective catching the evil murderer and one of them is gonna kill the other" to "the morally-lacking torture-happy detective who is Not Amused by this change and will do his best to reverse it and Mr I Can Fix Him, Oh Wait" is a fairly appealing interpretation of that in that it's so fucking funny

I spent too long writing this and as such refuse to check it over so I hope it's coherent good luck I have a lot of feelings

Turning this ask over in my brain thank you. Firstly I have been made deeply aware of my own mortality because why are you YOUNGER THAN ME!!!!!!!! WHAT !!!!!!! okay. Okay!!!! hahaha. HAHHAHhh...

Secondly. Yeah no I think it’s interesting that Light has teenager level foresight. I personally subscribe to the notion that he does in fact have flashes of “hey wait maybe I shouldn’t do this, this is wrong” but he is actually an olympic gold medalist in cognitive gymnastics so the moments of clarity don’t last for very long. 

I really do love yotsuba arc light just because of, yeah, everything you said. It’s light sans the notebook. More importantly, it’s light before he went down “this dark and evil road” (thank you musical soichiro). We really don’t get this level of characterization fuel in a lot of other media, not where a character canonically becomes the guy they could have been without the events of the plot. It’s super fucking interesting and it’s fantastic food. Like. as a fic writer. It’s good to know what characterization bits are set in stone and fundamental to a guy and which ones are circumstantial and can be stretched or reinterpreted. Yotsuba light provides really compelling evidence to this question, as you said. He is absolutely fucking insane and sarcastic and a two faced piece of shit but he’s fundamentally not a maniacal murderer. He has the capacity for it, but not the will.

I really do love!! The yostuba arc!! Thank you for laying this all out lmfao i agree with you 100000% and i am shaking you about it. Thank you for “i can fix him” lawlight as an interpretation. I am rotating it so hard. This was lovely to read :]

[satosugu-come-back]

girls will lose their goddamn minds for you (geto x fem!reader)

a/n: sabrina’s album has the biggest chokehold on me, someone sedate me (im sobbing to lie to girls)

based on “lie to girls” by sabrina carpenter (if you haven’t heard this song GO LISTEN TO IT the bridge absolutely left me in shambles)

cw: suguru defection, he tries getting reader to join him, reader is confused and unsure of anything, surugu is going mad, sad ending

—————————————————————————

“don’t you think sorcerers are above protecting the weak?”

“what are you talking about…?”

“think about it, y/n. we were meant to have a higher purpose in this world. these,” he raised his hands in frustration. “monkeys, are on the bottom of the chain. weaklings. they don’t deserve a place here.”

this was not the conversation you thought you was going to have with suguru.

you noticed the distance he put between them. you longed for your friend, the man you loved so deeply. he even distanced himself from gojo, which was the most alarming. they were always attached at the hip.

it was all so confusing. why was he thinking this way? this wasn’t suguru’s way of thinking. he risked his life to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

it was like all his morals went out the window. and now, he was trying to get you to join him.

“suguru, let’s just take a second-” you tried to reason.

“no, y/n. don’t you see? no matter what we do, as sorcerers we are constantly getting rid of curses that we shouldn’t be concerned with. why should we protect those who don’t need it?”

he grabs you by the shoulders, staring directly down at you. you didn’t recognize the man who stood in front of you. this was a completely different person.

“suguru. why are you saying these things? this isn’t like you, you have always wanted to protect those who can’t fight curses.” you reached up to cup his face, at some sort of attempt to ground him.

he didn’t flinch. before, suguru would react in some way to physical contact, either teasingly or retaliation. he didn’t do anything. he just stared at you.

“sugu, please. just…. just try to relax. i’m here. it’s okay…” you continued to caress his face, gently grazing his growing eye bags and sinking cheeks. you both stayed like that for a while, and you hope that this is doing something to calm down his manic thoughts.

in all honesty, you had thoughts similar to him once.

you had lost a family member to a curse. you constantly questioned everything- your purpose as a sorcerer, your abilities, your life- you didn’t know- or understand- how you were supposed to do this for the rest of your waking days.

you had almost gone down the same path. but losing your family member further cemented your initial belief that your purpose is to protect the vulnerable, even at the expense of your own life.

you just hoped you could help suguru realize the same.

“one of these days, y/n,”

suguru took hold of your wrists and gently removed your hands from his face.

“a curse is going to take your life, and you will just be another headstone among the weak. you can make a better life for yourself- not sacrificing it for worthless ones.”

you didn’t know what to say.

“think it over, y/n. i don’t want to have to fight you when i make my own path in this world.”

—————————————————————————

you did think it over. that night, you couldn’t sleep. it disturbed you how adamant suguru was about this new belief.

but no matter what, you wanted to help him get back on the right path. you tried to close the distance he set between you so he doesn’t isolate himself with his thoughts. the last thing he should be doing in wallowing in those destructive ideas.

gojo did notice. you had tried to talk to him, explain what was going on with suguru. you were scared that you were going to lose him. this world was cruel to sorcerers, and suguru knows that more than anyone.

so you searched him out everyday. you asked to accompany him on missions. you ate meals with him. you tried to talk with him about it. you wanted something- anything from him to know if what you were doing was working.

every now and then, you would see suguru respond to your presence. you were so happy- it was small steps, but they were steps nonetheless. this continued for a while. as it went on, you increased your time with him, hoping you were helping him come back into the light.

but even with your efforts, it didn’t seem to do much in the long run.

suguru was still stuck to the same routine, even if you were there. you watched as he exorcised and consumed curses over and over again. with gojo becoming the strongest, suguru couldn’t go to him about this. that was the problem.

satoru found it easier to deal with curses. he wasn’t consuming them again and again like suguru was.

he was near his breaking point.

while out on a mission, you watched as he consumed yet another curse. you didn’t like watching him do it- you always felt disturbed watching him force it down.

“y/n.”

your head perked up at him calling your name. lately, you’ve been at his beck and call, responding to him so as to not isolate him further. you wanted him to know you were here for him.

“yeah? what is it?”

he just looked so tired.

“…do you know what curses taste like?” he muttered.

you froze. of course you didn’t know what curses tasted like. you never had to consume them.

suguru didn’t mind your silence. he raised his hand up and covered his face with it. then he started laughing silently.

“of course you wouldn’t know. no one knows what a curse tastes like.”

he turned to you, walking into your space, towering over you. you felt so small. you hate the way he looks at you

“you’ve never had to shove a revolting, nauseating, abhorrent curse down your throat, consuming every foul inch of it. do you know how tiring it is?”

you didn’t know. that was the problem. no matter how hard you tried to level with him, tried to relate to him, there was no way you would ever be able to understand the strain of consuming these filthy curses. all you had to do was eliminate and repeat.

“the same thing, rinse and repeat. and for what? to be killed and forgotten, scrutinized by the weak for protecting them? when does it end? what’s the payoff?”

you couldn’t interrupt him. he was falling, quickly walking into the dark abyss where no light could shine. how do you comfort someone who’s morals and beliefs are twisting and shattering? how do you help them see that you are here for them?

how do you stop someone from destroying everything they know?

you had no answers. you stared at suguru, speechless. you tried to find the words that would make everything better, but suguru was already driving himself mad.

and you were lying to yourself, saying you could bring him back to the person he once was.

if he hadn’t left, you would have continued lying to yourself, gripping onto the hope that suguru would wake up and change his mind.

there must have been something more you could’ve done. there must have been something you missed, that slipped from under your radar. you denied everything.

when you heard he had killed an entire village, you broke.

when suguru was deemed the worse curse user of all, you felt like your heart was just violently ripped from your body, and you were bleeding out in the empty space he left.

you couldn’t save him. and he was never coming back.

—————————————————————————

a/n: thanks for reading! i kinda rushed the ending but i hope you enjoy 😊

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 5

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI!!)

Word Count: 5969

Summary: An anomaly finally makes her way into you dimension and that comes with more than you thought.

Warnings: Canon typical violence (No blood or anything), un-beta'd as hell, S M U T, fingering, Tension, P n V sex (make sure you wrap it before you tap it folks), Praise kink, multiple orgasms, Miguel doesn't use stairs, don't look at me. Small note: I'm making a taglist for this fic! Just comment or message if you want to be added or just interact with this post!

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Series Masterlist

AO3

Chapter 5

Fury

Nothing compared to the highest rooftops of New York in the dead of night. Serenity and stillness above the constantly bustling chaos just below— The perfect hiding spot and vantage point. There was so much happening on the ground that people never bothered to look up all that much. Well, maybe they did a little more since you came into the picture.

It was a long journey but you eventually won the hearts of your fellow citizens. After years of fighting it couldn’t be denied that you were only here to help, despite what the Daily Bugle preached every Sunday.

“All units be advised,” the comm crackles in your ear. “Disturbance in Washington Square Park. Suspect reported to be superhuman.”

The largest victory in the past few years was probably getting the cops to finally trust you. Well, trust was a strong word. You could finally get in and fight a threat without having to worry about dodging gunfire or a helicopter chase afterward. The city's precincts were a good mix of welcoming your help with open arms or begrudgingly working with you. Still, it was better than what it had been.

Regardless, the NYPD were your eyes all over the city and you were the last call they hoped they’d never have to make. 

“Call in the spider.”

That’s your cue— and you were finally close for once. Washington Square Park. No more than 5 minutes as the spider swings. You jump from your perch by the river and start making your way there. As you swing more reports come in.

“Suspect armed and dangerous. Explosives used.”

“Immediate area evacuated.”

“Suspect is airborne. Repeat, suspect is airborne. He’s got wings, fella’s.”

Oh, this was ramping up to be a really good night, but the next report nearly sends you tumbling.

“I don’t believe it– it’s— the Goblin. It’s the Green Goblin.”

Norman? No, he’d been dead for years. Killed by his own machines. This had to be a sadistic follower. A copycat. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d dealt with someone following in the footsteps of one of your mortal enemies.

Just another fun perk to this job.

You swing past the police barrier, landing in the circular concrete center of the deserted park. It was completely dark. They must have taken out all the street lamps. You couldn’t hear that god-awful maniacal laughter, but you smelled the residue from that stupid glider. The chemicals from some pumpkin bombs too. They were close, and they’d likely seen you swing in.

“Here, Goblin, Goblin, Goblin,” you taunt as you circle the center fountain. “If you come out we can play nice and maybe talk about our feelings.”

“ Spider-Girl , ” And there was that horrible, scratchy voice only someone with diagnosed insanity would think is cool. It definitely didn’t belong to Norman Osborn, though. You turn in its direction, only greeted with the sight of dark looming trees. “ Love the new suit. ”

“Oh, this old thing,” you mockingly bash, scanning the grassy area, “Just had it lying around, ya know. Not sure it’s really me though.” 

“ Where am I? ” the faceless voice sneers, “ It was daytime. I was flying, then— You. You did this, didn’t you? ”

They were agitated— likely manic and confused, how could they not be if they’d somehow gotten their hands on the Goblin formula. You were the only target they had, and they likely hated you before all of this happened. You opt for the negotiating route.

“Look, buddy. We don’t have to fight,” You slowly raise your hands as a small peace offering, “If you’re confused, we can just—”

The figure bursts from the darkness, grabbing you by the throat and soaring into the night air. So much for negotiating. As you fly past the surrounding skyline you finally get a good look at your villain. 

This goblin was a woman— with the most comically ridiculous pointed goblin ears you’d ever seen. She didn’t ride a proper glider but surfed on what looked more like a rocket. She wore head-to-toe metallic purple with some basic armoring around her mid-section and shoulders. All of her gear was clearly professionally made. 

But there was something else about her. A faint aura. The way her body moved. The lines of her sadistic face— Something not of this world.

She was an anomaly. 

Of course, how did you not think of it before? The one night you didn't wear your watch. It would have alerted you right away. You’d never had an anomaly enter your dimension before. Every one of them you’d faced up until the point was in someone else’s world. Other dimensions already felt so strange and off-kilter to you, you never stopped to think about how truly out of place the anomalies were. They all looked alien when the entire world was alien. 

But this was your neck of the woods. This was your home and she was just so clearly not part of it.

“ How did you do this? ” she steadies her glider and holds you out over empty air.

“Would you believe me if I said this wasn’t your dimension?” You wheeze out in her grasp.

Through some divine comedic timing, she glitches. As her hand phases between worlds, you fall from her grasp. You tumble a few dozen feet before catching yourself on a building. Clinging to the brick, you look back up at your new goblin assailant. 

The glitching comes to a shaky stop and she steadies herself on her rocket glider again. She takes a small moment to look down at her hands, a wave of shock overtaking her green face before it settles into fiendish joy.

“ So... I can travel between dimensions? ” she says more to herself than to you. 

“ Travel is a strong word,” You get her attention. 

She looks at you, “ You’re not my Spider-Girl? ”

“It’s Spider -Woman, actually.” you ready yourself to pounce at any moment. 

“ How many of you are there? ” She asks, anger dotting her words.

“Oh yeah sure, just let me just give you a quick overview of the multiverse,” Without giving her time to react you shoot a web to the tip of her rocket glider, thrusting it off kilter in one motion. She goes flying. You jump after her, “That’s a terrible glider design by the way.”

“ Insolent brat! ” She screams, reaching out her hand. You reach for her, only to instantly be met with open air as she’s swept away by the glider. She can summon her dumb rocket- surfboard. 

Of course.

You bank to her right, shooting web to at least immobilize her hands. Any web that gets near her is immediately slashed by blades now protruding from her wrists. You aim for her glider again, but she easily bobs and weaves past all of your shots now that she knows what to expect. She was better on that thing than you thought.

You jump, sticking yourself to the underside of the rocket glider. If you can’t stop her, then you’ll just have to dance with her.

“ You think you're a match for the Goblin QUEEN? ” She sneers, whipping around wildly to fling you off.

“Oh, apologies, your majesty. ” You rip off a panel of the flying device, grabbing at any cables and wiring you can, “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty.”

She grunts in frustration, whipping you to the left and slamming you into the nearest building. In the midst of the searing impact, you lose your grip on her. 

“ Pathetic.” She swings around to hover in front of you, “ You’re not my Spider, but you’ll do for now. ” She barrels toward you at full force, a massive blade unsheathing from the front of her glider. Without time to jump, you catch her glider— holding her at arm's length while the blade extends out to mere inches from your face.

The brick around you cracks and crumbles as the full force of her glider pushes down on you.

“ I’ll kill you, then I’ll harness this power and kill ALL of you,” Oh great, she was monologging , “ Every Spider, dead by my hands. This is what I was born to do!”

“M-might wanna check that ego, lady!” you grunt, hiking up your feet to push back on the body of her glider. It was awkward but you had the leverage— you just don’t know how long you can hold it.

You kick your legs up, using her own force against her, and send her spiraling backward. You immediately get out of your cornered position and head back towards the open park. If she was covered in knives and reportedly using explosives, best to keep her away from any buildings. Make her focus all of her attention on you. You stand in the center circle again as she hovers overhead.

“ You can’t run, Spider-Woman, ” She taunts, “ And you can’t win .”

You don’t time have for a witty remark before she’s charging at you again, her glider's blade front and center.

You’re about to act when a bassy boom crackles and rips through the air, giving you both pause.

Then you feel it— A buzzing at the base of your skull. 

Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding.  

The portal forms just to your right. His webs appear first, red treads shooting from the golden light. They latch onto her glider. The Goblin, shocked, attempts to correct her course, pulling Miguel the rest of the way out of the portal with her. He stands strong, several strands of webs in each hand. He whips his lassos downward, sending her flying off the glider. Before she can summon it back he whips his arms again, redirecting it straight into the ground. It explodes instantly.

He drops the webbing and shakes off his shoulders. He turns to you, sleek mask obscuring his face. He was here. He was actually here.

“Uh, Thanks,” You say, “Was trying to get her off that stupid thing for like 10 minutes now.”

“Don’t mention it,” Though you can’t see it, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Two of you now? ” your assailant broods from the shadows. You and Miguel immediately stand back to back at the sound of her voice, “ No matter, you’ve stopped nothing. You can’t stop Fury. You can’t stop destiny. ”

“Oh, she’s a monologuer,” Miguel scoffs.

“Mhm, she’s already vowed to kill all of spider-kind.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” he tuts back.

“Are all of you always so arrogant?” She sneers.

“Pretty much,” You answer.

What happens next you still can’t fully articulate. It was a matter of milliseconds, yet it felt as if the world moved at half its normal speed. 

You feel it before you see or hear it. She throws three pumpkin bombs. Before the devices even leave her hands you know exactly what direction they're coming from in the darkness— And seemingly so does Miguel. You move together in perfect unison, dodging the explosives as they implode on the ground. She starts circling the two of you, throwing bomb after bomb. Still, not one touches you. Here in a complete darkness, it’s like you could feel every move she was going to make.

“Damned Spiders,” She  grunts in frustration as she throws another pumpkin bomb into the concrete clearing. This one doesn’t explode on impact though. You and Miguel pause.

“Smoke!” He shouts, just a second too late. Pink gas explodes from the device. You’re able to escape only after having gotten a lung full of the nasty stuff. You cough and wheeze, barely able to swing to safety in the sparse trees. Miguel is nowhere to be seen, but you can sense him nearby. Maybe this spider-sense thing was coming in handy for once.

Goblin laughter from behind sends a shiver up your spine. You turn to see her perched in an oak tree. Just a few yards beyond her, a broad figure lurks in the settling pink mist. To catch this one, you had to be smarter. You’d have to lure her in— and part of you thinks Miguel has the same idea.

“Not bad, for a Psychopath,” you dust your legs off.

“ I think you mean visionary ,” She croons. “ You and your brutish Spider-man are no match for- ”

“Say’s the lady with no ride and a quickly dwindling supply of Spirit Halloween props.” You glance over and Miguel crouches down to all fours— Ready to pounce at exactly the right moment. Her guard is still up, if he jumped now he’d be met with a grenade directly to the face. You could distract her. Get all of her attention on you again. She obviously liked to talk, so…

“How do you even become Queen of the Goblins ?” You ask, leaning against a tree. “Is there a king? Is it David Bowie?!”

“ Silence! ” She screams. When in doubt, always go for the ego with super villains, “ I was chosen by Norman Osborn. Chosen at birth and raised for this purpose. ”

“Norman Osborn is dead.” you sneer, “And he certainly isn’t bestowing his messed up legacy on babies.”

“ In your reality, maybe. In mine, he’s a god, ” She crouches down, “ But you’ve opened my eyes to the possibilities, dear. Osborn lives, somewhere out there. I’ll find him. I’ll rally the goblins and we’ll finally kill you all.”

“Norman Osborn is dead ,” You repeat, “He always dies. Always . And it’s always a Spider standing over him.”

“ Not anymore.” You see her face contort in anger. Attacking her goblin cult leader must be the way to go.

“You know why?” You step toward her, “Because he’s weak.” 

“Shut. Your. Mouth. ”

“Just a weak, pathetic, ordinary , man.”

“ Shut up! ”

You ready yourself, “Make me.”

She barely gets a foot off her branch before Miguel pounces from behind. All in an instant, he grabs her, pinning her arms to her chest— a portal forms above you, and Miguel, Goblin Queen in hand, fly’s through it.

It blips closed before you can follow. You instinctively reach for your watch, only to realize again you did wear it tonight. Of course, that’d make everything too easy. Why would you wear it if you weren’t planning on an interdimensional battle tonight? A mistake, you assure yourself, you’ll never make again.

The brief thought of hurrying directly home and following Miguel flashes through your mind. Even if you could somehow get back to your Brooklyn apartment in a matter of minutes, you still had other duties to attend to. The sound of several officers entering the park brings you back to reality. Miguel was a pro— he could handle it from here. You needed to let your people know the situation was taken care of.

You speak with the Sargent and Captain at the scene, spinning some lie about her being a deranged follower and one of her bombs malfunctioning, and vaporizing her instantly. It was absolutely ridiculous but they trusted you to never lead them astray. Better to lie here than release the secret of access to the multiverse. The threat to your city was gone. That’s all that mattered.

You, fortunately, manage to escape a press statement this time, regretfully leaving that task up to Captain Stacy. He was better with the cameras than you were anyway.

It’s nearly 3 a.m. when you finally get back home, sneaking into the building through your rooftop perch. Honestly, it’s an earlier night than most. Your back aches from being slammed into a brick wall and your head is still spinning from whiplash. A hot shower and your bed sounded like paradise.

Your building was an old warehouse renovated sometime in the 2000s. It used to be a massive bakery. You swear you can still smell freshly baked bread in the bricks some 20 years later. You fucking loved your apartment. Vaulted ceilings, massive industrial windows, and a lofted bedroom. You were able to afford it out of sheer luck. 

Some business tycoon's daughter was kidnaped. When you returned her safely he handed you a briefcase with hundreds of thousands in cash, refusing to take no for an answer. You felt dirty taking it but you were flat broke since starting college and the medical bills from your nightly activities were piling up. You were younger then— and desperate. 

Jack seemed amazed you were even feeling remorse for it at the time.

“You’ve saved this city how many times?!” he’d scold you. “I think you can have something for almost dying for the people of this town on a bi-weekly basis.”

Part of you agreed and part of you felt you were straying from the path— whatever that meant. Jack begged you to get something nice for yourself— so, you got this place and vowed never to take money for your job ever again. You fell in love as soon as you saw it. Your safe haven. Spider HQ, as Jack affectionately called it. 

Miguel had an entire tower, you could have more than a shoebox apartment.    

He was probably back at the tower now. You grab your watch and check the villain logs. Lyla kept a detailed list of who’d been captured and where. And there she was, right at the top. 

Fury the Goblin Queen: Earth-982

Status- Captured: Earth-727 at 2200 hours

He handled it. Nothing else to worry about. You let out a heavy sigh and peal off your suit, sports bra, and underwear. A scorching hot shower and some ibuprofen were calling your name. 

You’re about to climb the steps to your bathroom when you feel a slight tremble in the walls along with a buzzing in your head.

Again? Right now? You’re suddenly very aware of your complete nakedness and quickly grab one of your long abandoned t-shirts from a kitchen stool to cover up with. The baggy shirt barely brushed the tops of your thighs but it’ll have to do.

The golden portal formed in your living room, a still fully suited Miguel emerging from it. It closes behind him with a deep rumble.

“Thanks for waking all my neighbors up,” you pinch the bridge of your nose.

His mask fades away, revealing that stupid handsome face, “You didn’t follow.” he simply says.

“Didn’t have my watch. I won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t check in, either.”

“Didn’t think I needed to,” you groan, rubbing the back of your stinging neck, “I just got home after defusing the scene for 2 hours. Sorry if it slipped my mind.” The last part comes out more bitchy than you intend but you were fucking tired. And he comes to your home— To what? Berate you about protocol? Fuck off.

“Sorry, just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He says, earnestly. Okay, well now you do feel a little bit like a bitch. 

He could have just called or asked Lyla to check up on you, be he came himself. He was here, in your apartment. The realization makes your spider sense spike. 

He’s here and you're both alone.

“I’ve… never fought with you before,” He says, relaxing his posture, “You did good.”

“You too,” you say passively. You lean against the kitchen counter, letting the following silence linger into uncomfortable territory. What else was there to say? He came to make sure you were okay, the villains locked up and your dimension isn’t crumbling. Still, that dreaded sixth sense pulled at you to keep him here. Just a little longer, “Has it ever felt like that before?” you finally ask.

“Has what?” he furrows his eyebrows. 

“Fighting… with another spider,” You clarify, “When we were in the clearing— When she was throwing the bombs. The way we moved, it felt so—”

“Instinctual,” He finishes, taking a step toward you. “No, it’s never felt that way. It’s like you knew what to do. Like you knew what I was thinking.”

“Yeah,” You shy away from his gaze. You suddenly feel the gravity of it all. While you were grateful for the benefits of the spider sense, something was wrong with you. With both of you. This wasn’t a normal spider-sense. Whatever this was, was like a brick through the window of your daily life. Something was triggered in you, and you couldn’t turn it off. Now you’ll probably never be normal again— not that you really were before.

Everything felt perfect before. The city finally accepted you, a new job you were proud of, and new friends just like you. People that could understand in a way no one else could. You’d found a balance and a new passion for being Spider-Woman. Now, for the first time in years, you cursed your abilities. You doubted yourself. An outsider again, even amongst your own kind.

“Hey.” Miguel’s voice brings you out of the spiral. He’s standing directly in front of you. When did he get so close? “You okay, little spider?”

The nickname makes your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, I—” You stop yourself from rambling, bringing your hand up to your cheek “This is kinda fucked up, isn’t it? You and me?”

He snorts a small laugh, “Yeah, kinda.”

“Whatta we supposed to do, Miguel?” you ask yourself, more than him. Even if his test showed something, then what? Just learn to live with it, you suppose.

“Business as usual,” He reiterates from the other day in his room. Why did business as usual feel so difficult then? You’re not even sure what that means around him. A silence stirs between you two again, but this time you feel something building. Your mind screams at you to touch him. To let him take control and ravish you. You squeeze your legs together, doing your best to hide it even though it’s no use. If you felt it, he felt it too.

“I should go.” He finally says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Sure,” you nod. Neither of you moves. You see the hunger behind his brilliant red eyes.

You hesitantly reach out, running a hand up his broad chest. You needed something— Just a little of him. His breath hitches at the contact but he doesn’t shy away. His suit’s technology ripples in the wake of your touch, illuminating and fading away to show the rich, tan skin underneath— before phasing back in an instant. He grabs your wrist, halting your movement at his stomach. You can feel his heart rate rising under your touch.

He pulls you in, lips crashing in a frenzy of movement. You throw your arms over his shoulders as he pins you against the kitchen counter. His arms cage you in as his massive body overwhelms you.

Every move you make is feverish and desperate, begging for more of him. His tongue selfishly delves into your mouth and you moan at the taste of him. The sensation sends your head reeling. He bites at your lower lip before ghosting down to your neck. He was hungry— so were you.

Your head is spinning. All your pain and exhaustion now completely forgotten and replaced with pure, unbridled lust. The connection screams in gratitude, finally getting what it wanted.

“Miguel,” You sigh into his hair, as he leaves a trail of hickeys down your shoulder.

“I know,” He moans without halting his work, “ Lo sé. Yo también lo siento. ”

His bare hand snakes up your leg and hitches around the hem of your t-shirt. He pauses when he feels nothing else there. 

“How scandalous.” He smiles against your skin, running his calloused hand across your bare hips. You shiver in response, suddenly unable to articulate language. He cradles your head with his other hand as he buries his nose in your hair, “Oh god, you smell so—you’re so—”

He runs his open hand over your bare cunt. You gasp and arch into him, rolling your hips over his fingers. Greedily rocking back and forth against his rough hand, you coat his fingers with your growing arousal. He moves his hand gingerly as you do so. He gently runs his middle finger along your seam before thrusting it inside.

You swing your head back with a moan, clawing at his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to devour your neck again while working his hand in and out of you. You’re at his complete mercy. Whatever he wanted from you, he could have— you’d happily give it.

His mass threatens to topple you over the counter. You hook your leg around his hips, opening yourself to him more. You feel his entire body vibrate with a moan as his lips proceed to explore every single inch of you that they can. His thumb comes up to work against your clit and it sends you to a new level.

“P-please!” You gasp. You’re not entirely sure why you say it.

He pauses all of his movements, glowing red eyes meeting yours, “Please what?” it’s more of a demand than a question. 

Tell me what you want.

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with your mouth, “Please fuck me.”

Then you see a shift in him. Like his eyes glaze over and somehow become more animalistic. It sets all of your hair on end and a new wave of arousal washing over your senses. 

His voice drops an octave, “Where’s—” 

“Upstairs.” you barely pant out, glancing up at your bedroom just above you. He follows your eyes, quickly taking the hint. 

“Okay, little spider. Okay,” he ever so slowly draws his fingers out from your slick heat. You whimper at the sensation. His hands trace over your soft thighs before hooking under them. He lifts you like nothing at all and your lips come crashing back to his. You entangle your limbs around him as he walks you both out of the kitchen and to the open living room. He doesn’t go towards the stairs though, instead walking to the opposite wall. Before you can correct him, his hands are off you— talons digging into your living room wall.

He scales the bricks as you cling to him, not stopping your hungry kissing for a single beat. His powerful limbs move under you with brute force but his torso still holds steady for you to carry yourself on. A small reminder of just how strong he was.

He hoists you both over the railing of your loft and carries you to the bed, dropping you into the messy, unmade sheets. His hand comes to the collar of your shirt, ripping it down the middle. You shrug off the shreds and briefly wonder if you’ll ever be able to do this without ruining any clothes.

He takes a moment to drink in your naked form, eyes slowly traveling down the curves of your body. You squirm under his gaze— Your breasts heaving up and down in anticipation. 

“Miguel,” you reach out to him.

Come here. Please.

His head twitches, eyes darting back to your face. His small trance broken, he smiles down at you. The edges of his suit start to fade away in a pale blue glow until there’s nothing left but a pair of black boxer briefs, his form silhouetted by the streetlights from the window. He hastily removes the underwear, freeing his throbbing hard cock. You drink him in, in all his glory. 

He trails his massive hands back up your thighs and over your torso as he crawls on top of you. His hands are scorching and rough. He pauses at your breasts, running his thumbs over each pebbled nipple. 

He takes one into his mouth, kneading the other roughly. You squirm under him, gasping at the contact. His cock twitches against your stomach. He seems to revel in it— watching you fall apart by his hand. You can’t say mind much either.

“Miguel, please,” You beg, pulling at his hair. He lazily comes off your breast, lulling his tongue over your nipple before rising completely.

“So impatient , ” he murmurs. He brings his hand down and runs his fingers through your wet folds, slowly gathering your arousal. He sits back, towering over you. He strokes his massive length, covering himself with you. His gaze burns into you as he puts on the show— small gasps escaping him with every stroke.

Look at what you do to me.

He crawls down your body. You bring your legs up from under him and hook them around his waist. He reaches down and guides his cock to your entrance. The blunt tip presses dauntingly against you and then you, only for a moment, worry you can’t take him— Then he rolls his hips forward. Your face contorts into a blissful silent scream as he begins stretching you to your limits.

“Oh god,” He moans as he slowly takes you inch by inch. He rolls his hips lightly before burying himself to the hilt. You’re legs are already quivering around him. “Relax for me.” He whispers into your ear.

He starts the pace slow, drawing out almost completely before rolling back in. Each dauntingly slow stroke of his cock was a wave of sensory overload. He had you stretched to near painful limits but with each steady thrust, it melted into pure pleasure, your body relaxing around him.

A little faster now, you start to roll your hips with him. Once your rhythm is set, he brings his starved mouth back down to yours. You moan into him, feeling it reverberate in both your chests. You consume each other greedily.

Your sense is singing in absolute ecstasy. 

It’s never felt this way before. You’d had a meager handful of lovers in your life, often leaving you wanting and disappointed— But this? This was something entirely different. Something so deep-rooted and primal. It scared you. It excited you. 

“ He pensado en esto durante tanto tiempo.” He murmurs into you, “ Te sientes asombrosa.”

You absolutely do not have the brain capacity to even attempt to understand him right now. Still, the way he so lovingly says it makes your heart swell.

“You sound like sin,” He grunts against your neck, “It’s fucking beautiful. Eres hermosa, mi arañita. ”

Your growing arousal makes you more vocal with each movement— the coil in your belly already tightening more and more. Your sinful screams bounce off the walls of your apartment and back to you.

He’s leaving a growing trail of marks across your shoulders, evidence that he’s been there. You can’t say that you disapprove of the reminder. He’s so vigorous in all of his movements with you, it was getting close to overwhelming. 

You’d thought of this— you’d dreamed about it for months now and he was incomparable to whatever you could have possibly imagined. Not just because his dick was proving to be something out of this world— well, you suppose it was—  but because it was just him. His smell, his sound, his taste— he overwhelmed your every sense as he made love to you. 

He hits something new and deep inside you, and you jump under him. He takes notice. Of course, he does. He devastatingly slams his hips forward into the same spot again. Electricity surges through you.

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? You like that?” He chuckles, thrusting into the same hypersensitive spot over and over. A few more thrust and it was your undoing. 

You can’t even warn him before it hits you like a freight train.

You claw down his back as your orgasm overtakes you. Limbs numbing and mind blacking out to nothingness for brief seconds, it was almost too much. Quivering beneath him, he works you through it. Each thrust extends your blinding pleasure just slightly longer before it subsides into maddening overstimulation. 

“Good Girl,” He moans against your ear, “S-so, fucking tight. So good.” 

He doesn’t slow his pace, continuing to fuck you through your prolonged high. He takes full advantage of it. You gasp for any air you can, every nerve in your body threatening to burn up in the euphoria.

“One more,” he grunts, “I know you have one more for me.”

He nuzzles into your neck, teeth bearing down on the soft flesh there. The pearl gleam of his fangs flashes in your mind, and you know you should be afraid— but you're not. The idea of him drawing blood is strangely pleasing. His tongue licks up along the reddened mark his teeth have left there.

Then he shifts you— untangling your legs from him and pulling your hips up off the bed. You plant your feet as he holds your shaky hips. He rises and starts to thrust down into you, bringing his fingers to your clit, and rubbing small circles over your already fried nerves. God, he looked fucking magnificent towering above you— His face pure lust. Eye’s lidded and glossy, sweat pecking at his brow.

You grasp at the sheets, trying to find any sense of stability. Another wave is washing over you, “M-Miguel. Miguel, I’m gonna—”

It rips through you quicker than your first, but no less powerful. Your voice catches in your throat as you gasp for air, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“That’s it. That’s it,” he chants as crawls back over you, pulling you closer, “Fuck, you feel so good when you—”

His steady pace becomes sporadic as he chases his own relief. You feel his hips start to quake and his eyes go completely red.

“W-where?” he gasps.

“God— inside!” you scream impatiently. You can inform him of your birth control after, though he seems to take the hint.

He cums with a string of grunts uttered into the sheets next to your head, hips shuttering still as he pushes as deep inside you as you can. You feel him throbbing against your walls as he fills you. Every muscle in his body is quivering and tense and then… he relaxes completely. You hold him close, arms and legs wrapping around him. You bury your nose in the nape of his neck, memorizing his musky scent.

You both stay there for what felt like hours, in unmoving silence. Breathing each other’s heavy air, clinging to the other’s body. Truth be told, it was probably less than a minute, but it stretched on for eternity. 

He’s the first to move, rising up to rest his sweaty forehead against yours, “Holy shit.”

How romantic. But that pretty much summed up your feelings too. 

“Holy shit.” you chuckle lightly in agreement. You notice while coming down from your sexual high your spider sense has also been tamed into silence yet again. That was to be expected but there was something else this time. A new level of satisfaction. You can’t help but wonder what it’s like on his end, “What’s it feel like... For you?”

“It’s…Peaceful. Satiated and content.” he says, rolling onto his side. Your breath hitches at the loss of him. “It felt satisfied before when we… but now…”

“It’s different.” You finish his line of thought. It was vague and incredibly obvious, but how else could you possibly describe a sensation you’d never felt before? Yeah, it was different, but how? You just simply didn’t have the words— not yet. 

It was everything and nothing you’d ever known before. He made you feel that way.

“Will you stay?” you find yourself saying before you can stop yourself. He’s obviously taken aback.

“I don’t—”

“Just- just for a little while.” You quickly try to backtrack a little. It feels needy and clingy but you feel like if he left you’d be lying awake for hours with your spider sense screaming at you. Just hold you for a little while? Is that so much to ask? You’re worried you just massively overstepped a boundary… but then his expression softens into a faint smile.

“Sure, little spider. For a little while.”

_____________________________________

Lo sé. Yo también lo siento- I know. I feel it too He pensado en esto durante tanto tiempo- I’ve thought about this for so long Te sientes asombrosa.- You feel amazing Eres hermosa, mi arañita- You’re beautiful, my little spider

For the love of god, please let me know if any of this is wrong.

Fury the Goblin Queen is a character from the Mayday Parker Spider-Girl comics! They were my favorites growing up and I thought Fury was cool as shit. She surfs on a fucking rocket, like come on. Too bad she was raised in a cult though.

[sharpened--edges]

A stroll through any bookshop at the moment reveals an array of bright, celebratory volumes, reminding us of women’s extraordinary resilience in the face of injustice. Hillary and Chelsea Clinton’s The Book of Gutsy Women: Favorite Stories of Courage and Resilience, gathers stories of women ‘with the courage to stand up to the status quo, ask hard questions, and get the job done’. (Note the uncanny echoes here of the bullish, phallic insistence, by Boris Johnson and Donald Trump, on getting Brexit done, on building the wall.) British MP Yvette Cooper’s She Speaks: The Power of Women’s Voices celebrates speeches by women through the ages (including by Theresa May). Outspoken: 50 Speeches by Incredible Women from Boudicca to Michelle Obama, by Deborah Coughlin, features some of the same speeches. And MP Jess Phillips is the author of Truth to Power: 7 Ways to Call Time on BS. Her feminist credentials are tightly linked to a posture of defiant truth-telling; she is also the author of Everywoman: One Woman’s Truth About Speaking the Truth. Being outspoken, it would seem, is a requirement of any self-respecting feminist subjectivity; if you’re not talking loudly about gutsiness, are you even a feminist? Discernible in this pattern of feminist publishing is what Rosalind Gill and Shani Orgad have termed ‘confidence culture’, which holds that it is not primarily patriarchy, capitalism or entrenched institutional sexism that hold women back, but rather their own, individual lack of confidence—a lack framed as an entirely personal matter. The valourisation of confidence as a psychological stance is also at work in initiatives such as Gmail’s Just Not Sorry plug-in, for instance, which encourages women to replace phrases such as ‘I’m sorry to disturb you’, or ‘I just wondered if’ with direct, assertive formulations. Confidence culture is evident too in Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg’s 2013 Lean In, or Amy Cuddy’s TED Talks (Your Body Language May Shape Who You Are) advising women to assume ‘power poses’. These poses supposedly lower cortisol and increase testosterone in advance of intimidating meetings, job interviews or promotion requests, realms in which women are routinely told they are not assertive enough. Here, encouraging women’s individual power and assertiveness becomes synonymous with feminism. It is on herself that a woman must act, and in so doing she simultaneously flies the flag for all women. Confidence is key to achievement while also advancing equality and diversity. It is a form of self-work that each woman must undertake in order to succeed, and in order to respect herself for not having succumbed to the odds stacked against her. Confidence culture’s way of talking to women, in the tones of a cheerleading friend, exhorting positivity and self-realisation (you go, girl!) may be no bad thing; and, sometimes, that galvanizing self-talk in the bathroom mirror can help. And yet this way of speaking to women skirts evasively around a glaring problem: that women are often punished and criticized (they are bitchy, bossy, angry) for precisely the confident, assertive poses and behaviours they are being asked to cultivate. What’s more, these exhortations of positivity keep vulnerability anxiously at bay; they render insecurity or lack of confidence as ugly, abject and shameful—something any self-respecting woman would not feel or at least not express. There is in these modes of address an almost manic insistence on strength; they are at great pains to present women as almost heroically invulnerable. Sara Ahmed describes this ‘zooming in’ on confidence as implying that girls are ‘their own obstacles, in the way of themselves’. As Gill and Orgad put it, ‘if confidence is the new sexy’, then ‘insecurity is the new ugly.’ Is this hierarchy of feeling helpful?

Katherine Angel, Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again: Women and Desire in the Age of Consent (Verso, 2022), pp. 15–17.

[real-total-drama-takes]

Coderra sucks ass as a cutesy romantic ship and their dynamic in World Tour is nothing short of disturbing BUT! I think the whole concept behind an eccentric stalkerish fangirl who's obsessed with a mediocre white man who thinks he's hot shit and forcing them to interact has great potential.

Like, what if Cody had been totally on board at first to have a strong gf who's obsessed with him and basically competes for him? What if they started a relationship immediately and we were able to see it crash and burn throughout the course of TDWT?

Sierra realises that that guy she's idolised and crushed on from afar for two year isn't what she imagined him to be and gets a massive reality check. Cody realises that his manic pixie dream girl fantasy is actually awful in practice and that the constant attention is always stressing him out. The two of them having to let go of their unrealistic expectation and accepting that their relationship is just plain bad for both of them.

It also could have been a great contrast to Aleheather, all enemies to lovers vs lovers to enemies (or friends even!)

idk man, it could have been better

.

[mbtiblogfun]

"The INFP Archetypes"

What makes INFPs different from each other? Well there are many factors. Obviously not all INFPs are the same, and other parts of typology like enneagram, ivs, and socionics do affect this. Some INFPs are also more in tune with their weaker functions (Si and Te) than others. Like the other types, INFPs also have different "archetypes" that are often seen as "general representations" of them. Obviously because mbti is so nuanced and complex, don't fret if you don't identify with any of these! They're very simplified, so not relating doesn’t mean you're not an INFP!

So now let's get into some of the most notable archetypes

1. The Dreamer

The most notable INFP archetype, one could call it "the INFP poster child." The dreamer is a pure, innocent, curious, sensitive, and idealistic INFP. The dreamer looks at the world with wide, starry-eyes, and wears their heart on their sleeve. Usually the dreamer is also very romantic poetic, and/or artistic, and they have a wild imagination. The dreamer sees the good in everyone and might often merge with/be present in tropes like the manic pixie dream girl, or the soft boy. They have a tendency to be portrayed as mysterious or misunderstood.

Examples of the dreamer: Belle (Beauty & the Beast), Aurora (Sleeping Beauty), Amelie, Juliet (Romeo & Juliet), Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables), and Celine (Before Trilogy)

2. The Mediator

The mediator shares the same traits as the dreamer (pure, sensitive, kind-hearted, etc.) but plays a different role in the story. Typically the dreamers are protagonists, while mediators usually have secondary roles. The mediator often acts as a voice of reason, to keep the protagonist in touch with their humanity or to just listen whenever someone needs to let it all out. The mediator is typically very quirky and non-conformist. The mediator is empathetic and usually soften-spoken, but they're not afraid to stand up for others or what they believe in.

Examples of the mediator: Silvermist (Tinkerbell), Mantis (MCU), Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter), Ami Mizuno/Sailor Mercury (Sailor Moon), and Lucy Pevensie (Narnia)

3. The Seeker

The seeker, once again, shares the same traits as the other two but has an emphasis on curiosity and imagination. The seeker is not afraid to ponder life's deeper, more complex questions.

As said by @dragonflymage, the seeker often asks themselves questions like

Why do I exist?

Who am I really inside?

How do I fit?

Where do I belong?

They also go on to add this explanation: "A seeker, continuously looking for answers that we never may find, but that we must keep searching for anyway. "

(If you wanna read more from her post I've reblogged it on my page) While they search for these answers, the seeker oftentimes will go on a "hero's journey" in hopes of finding the answer along their quest

Examples of the seeker: Merlin (BBC), Newt Scamander (Fantastic Beasts/HP), Luke Skywalker (Star Wars), Edward Scissorhands, and Frodo (LOTR)

4. The Emotional Villain

As you can see this one is a complete 180 compared to the other three lol. This pattern doesn't exactly have a name, so I just made one up.

Pretty much all INFP villains I've seen are driven by their emotions. Afterall, Fi is our dominant function. The emotional villain is driven by personal reasons and experiences, they're not just evil for the sake of being evil. Typically the emotional villain is very moody, disturbed, and/or unstable. They are usually the direct opposite of their other INFP counterparts: they are selfish, ruthless, and blood-hungry.

Examples of the emotional villain: Wanda Maximoff (MCU), Joker (2019 ver), and Kylo Ren (Star Wars).

5. The Angsty Teen

Another really common portrayal of INFPs in media is the angsty teen. This archetype is pretty self explanatory, an angsty hormonal teenager. The angsty teen often struggles with social anxiety, and/other another mental illness. They also might have trust issues, be really moody, or hurting from unrequited love or some other trauma. The angsty teen often copes through artistic means, like poetry or painting.

I feel the feelings on this archetype are very divided. While a lot of people don't like having that image as a representation of their type, some argue that it's a realistic portrayal of the darker side of being an INFP. I personally feel like the angsty teen represents my inner conflicts, while the dreamer, mediator, and seeker represent my outward behavior most of the time. What are your thoughts?

Examples of the angsty teen: Shinji Ikari (Evangelion), Will Byers (Stranger Things), Cassie Ainsworth (Skins), Kou Mabuchi (Blue Spring Ride), Violet Parr (The Incredibles), Nico di Angelo (Percy Jackson), Charlie Kelmeckis (The Perks of Being a Wallflower), Elio Perlman (Call Me By Your Name), Todd Anderson (Dead Poets Society), Fischl (Genshin Impact), Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice) and Cry Baby (K-12)

There's plenty more archetypes but I thought I'd just focus on these 5. Also remember that these archetypes don't represent all INFPs as a whole, they’re just like "INFPs in a nutshell."

What are your thoughts? Which archetypes do you relate to? Which one's your favorite? Which one's your least favorite?

[dontcalltaffy]

Ice Marceline's Trauma (or my hc heehee)

From the loss of the real Marceline, Winter King got an obsession to protect Marcy's child, because he feels so needed and a good father.

And he is ashamed that he lost his vigilance and lost an important person, again.

The life of Ice Marceline was as beautiful as a dream, she did not need anything and was always under the supervision of the almost manic, caring Winter, who did not even allow her to go beyond the castle. Marcy studied with the Ice Scouts, played with the nanny and sometimes spent time with Winter himself, but sometimes she felt a deep inner uneasiness.

— I love and care about you, Marcy — Winter King's voice was calm and soft, he paternally stroked the ice girl on her unnaturally hard cold hair, she lowered her gaze to the floor.

She is afraid to disturb her father, she unconditionally loves him, but this feeling of burden is unknowingly instilled by Winter himself. Each such conversation ends with Simon’s words about how dear Marceline is and the fact that you can’t leave the castle

But why?

- Marcy, promise me you'll be careful when you play, okay? - a familiar worried voice sounded in the room, lil vampire nodded in response to his words.

“Okay, dad,” the youngest finally answered, after all, dad loves her and won’t harm her. Never again.