btw tht movie, Split, is fucking disgusting and ableist as all hell. for one, split is term the movie stole from ppl with bpd, not “split personalities.” and that’s another thing, the trope abt ppl with DID and alters/systems being inherently scary or “ps*ch*t*c”“”“ is fucking bullshit and neurotypicals need to stop using mentally ill ppl as horror tropes. it makes it rlly hard for us, like if u have bpd/pd or r actually psychotic then nts like to write us off as abusive or murderers.
basically: don’t fucking support the movie Split
a mentally ill person thts tired of being stigmatized lmao
request: hello love :) Can I have an imagine with peter parker? maybe reader is a teleporter mutant and after a lot of stuttering and blushing peter asks her out and do some research about where to take her so they went to Italy of France idk for their first date? I would really love to read it from you love you :)
word count: 2.2k
author’s note: this is my very first peter parker imagine, and i do apologise if peter’s out of character in any way. also i’m super sorry for not sticking to the request completely, although this is cute too (:
“You have the right to
Your brows furrowed as
you spun around, attempting to see who the voice in question was. As you turned
on your heel, however, a large red object flew over your head.
Blinking profusely, you
yelled out, “Who’s there?”
When no answer arrived,
you continued on cautiously, wary of possible intruders. It wasn’t unlike
another hero to swoop in and chase
after your own mission, yet this did annoy you to no end. You were the one to be elected to complete the task, so why should someone else have to try to steal all
the glory from you?
Sensing that you were
nearing a dead end, you clicked the inconspicuous little clasp under the right
ear of your suit. The night vision lenses immediately dismantled from their
place over your eyes to the top of your head, seeing as you felt you didn’t
need them anymore.
You walked right up to
the blank wall you’d been walking towards, feeling around for any
kinks in the concrete. As you crouched down, searching assiduously for a little
curve or twist, a resounding thud
could be heard, only meters away from you.
With wide eyes, you
froze in your place, heart beating much too fast to fathom anything. The
consistent lub dub replaying
vehemently through your ears only made matters worse, increasing your
However, this was your
job; fighting the bad guys. As calmly
as you could, you stood up, making sure not to make any sudden movements which
might provoke your attacker.
brought your hand back up to your mask, quietly positioning your mask back in
place with the click of a button. You swiftly pressed another button, this time
one in the centre of your palm, and looked straight ahead as the fingertips of
your suit began to glow, a useful tool when searching for the enemy in the
Bringing your hand up as
slow as you could manage, you realised that the attacker was standing about
four meters away from you, in your direct line of vision. Squinting slightly to
make sure you weren’t seeing incorrectly, a dawning realisation washed over you
as you saw the unmistakeable red and blue material of his suit, as well as the
prominent black spider sitting proudly on his chest.
A guarded huff arose
from his lips – or where his lips would’ve been, had he not been wearing a
suit. “The name’s Spider-Man, funnily enough.”
“Wow, who would’ve
thought? How did my little baby grow up so fast?”
Seeing that he wasn’t
going to answer, you spoke again. “’You have the right to remain silent’?
Really, Bug-Boy?” You cracked a grin. “Did you think I was a villain?” you mock gasped.
Focusing on ignoring
your teasing comments, he simply nodded, quickly scanning the dreary
underground room you were both in. “There’s nothing here, I’ve already
A mist of slight confusion
clouded your eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
The corner of your lip
tugged downwards, wanting no more than to frown in puzzlement. “How did you
check the place so quickly? I only just got here a little while ago, and I
didn’t see anyone else enter or exit.”
Slight hesitation was
clear in his actions as he shuffled his feet, mumbling, “I- I check it last
You didn’t try to resist
it anymore; you let your jaw drop, the shock openly evident on your features.
“You were sent on another
fake mission!” Spider-Boy blurted out before he could stop himself, instantly
slapping a hand over his masked mouth.
Only a select few of the
words that had come out of his mouth had been heard by you, though. “Another?”
Looking up at him with
inquisitive eyes, a nod of his head was all that was needed to set you off.
You threw your hands up
in frustration. “So they don’t want me to help them anymore?” Reluctant tears
began to unfold in the backs of your eyes. “They could’ve just said so! They
could’ve told me! They could’ve said it to my face, instead of sending me on
these- these pointless bloody
Spider-Boy had begun to
walk towards you, wanting to comfort you, but not being able to physically do
anything. She’s upset, you should be
comforting her. But what if she doesn’t want me to? Should I say anything?
Should I do anything? Oh my God Peter, just do something.
Too busy trying to wipe
the cascade of tears off your face, you didn’t notice his internal struggles.
You heaved an enormous sigh, dropping down onto the ground dejectedly. As you
did so, you snapped back the lenses covering your eyes and peeled off the dark
mask that covered the rest of your face, hurling them at the nearest wall. A
satisfying crack could be heard from
the black mess that now lay resting against the cold concrete stone a little
way away from you.
As the tears slipped
down your cheeks, though, you realised your mistake once your body started
visibly glitching. Mentally cursing yourself, you focused on calming yourself
down, but it was too late; your frame had begun to fade in and out of view,
before abruptly zapping to a better lit side of the dismally forlorn room.
Despite this, however, an
audibly muffled gasp could be heard from the only other living being in the
room as he struggled to comprehend the one thing running through his mind.
A sudden jolt
reverberated throughout your body, your head snapping up dangerously fast to
meet the spider’s gaze.
“Who the fuck-“
“N- never mind!” he
squeaked out, all courage and masculinity stripped hastily from his vocals.
Realising how high-pitched his voice was, he cleared his throat, attempting to
act cool by leaning an arm against the wall and repeating, “Never mind.”
A simple raise of your
eyebrow had him weak at the knees, all hopes of playing it cool distinguishing
as your imploring eyes gazed up at his still masked face. In all honestly,
‘never mind’ was never going to suffice; Peter knew that. Yet when you took off
your mask, it wasn’t only easily one of the most surprisingly moments of his
life, but also one of complete recognition; now he knew where he’d heard that
voice before, where he’d seen that personality outshine before, where he’d seen
those captivating eyes before.
You were Y/F/N Y/L/N.
He knew you from school.
Everybody knew who you were, although your name wasn’t one of purity; you had
drawn quite the picture of yourself. Not only had you been getting into several
fights ever since you were young (courtesy to the powers you’d been wielding
unknowingly), but you were one of the most fiercely kind and likable people he
He sat near you in most
of the classes you had together, much to Ned’s annoyance. Although, even his
best friend couldn’t deny that Peter’s genuine affection for you was cute. Yet,
he had tried to diminish it as best he could, knowing that you’d never be
inclined to even be his friend
voluntarily. Instead, he spent more of his every waking moment rambling on
about Liz Allan, much to MJ’s disapproval. Somehow the girl had figured out
that he liked you, but he genuinely had no clue how. Even Ned had said that it was
obvious, clear in the way he looked at you, but you’d never noticed it anyway.
Sure, you’d noticed him
– who hadn’t noticed one of the most intelligent and adorable guys at school? –
but you’d never made many moves to get to know him. The reason being? You were
part of the group that bullied him. Of course, you’d never personally bullied him, but by solely being a part of that group
itself made you feel sick to the stomach, what with Flash tormenting the poor
boy every single day.
You may have spoken to
him a few times, due to class discussions and such, but you’d never held a
proper conversation with the boy, nor made any direct eye contact with him
willingly, purely out of shame – and perhaps another reason that had something
to do with the wild explosion of butterflies in your stomach every time you
found yourself even remotely close to him. He’d never understood why you
avoided him, but he had come accustomed to it, mostly.
Abruptly snapping out of
his reverie as though someone had shoved him unceremoniously to the ground,
Peter granted his eyes permission to stray towards your face. Your plush lips
were twisted into a frown so full of defeat and anguish that he wanted nothing
more than to be the one to make you smile once more.
“How do you know my
Peter’s cheeks, although
concealed from your view, burned a dull shade of magenta, still unable to wrap
his head around the fact that you two had had many little conversations and
banters in superhero form before.
Hesitantly, he sat down
beside you, making sure to take his time replying. “We, uh, we know each
“From school?” you
hazarded a guess. As you regarded the gentle nod of his head, you turned your
sight towards your feet with a small sigh. “So we’ve been fighting crime and
bantering with each other, as well as going to the same school as each other?”
Peter nodded again, sure
that his throat was too constricted with uncertainty to let out any coherent
“You’re not Flash, are you?” you joked, a
tantalising smile playing on your lips. “Because realising that Flash, of all people, was the amazing
Spider-Man would definitely suck
He let out an
appreciative chuckle, scratching the back of his neck lightly. “Luckily for
you, then, I’m not Flash.”
And it was in that
moment that you realised.
“You know,” you started
gently, “I’ve never really liked Flash. Or any of the people I consider my
friends. I despise them, actually.”
surprised, to say the least, judging by the way his head jerked up to meet your
gaze. “Y- you what?”
Shaking your head, you
replied, “I despise them. They’re horrible people. Liz isn’t too bad, I
suppose, but we’re not close enough for me to know. I just- I don’t know, I don’t
really have anyone else apart from them…”
“You have me,” he
murmured, before processing what he’d just said and widening his eyes. You had
to admit it was cute, seeing the lenses of his suit mirroring his expression
beneath. But what was even cuter, you acknowledged, was his choice of words.
“Do I really though?”
you mused softly.
“W- what do you, uh,
mean?” he stammered gingerly, still mentally whacking himself over the head for
his loose tongue.
You had had enough of
this delicate treading, so you turned to him completely, crossing your legs
whilst facing his side. You managed to glimpse the sight of his brows furrowing
under the mask before you started.
“Peter, you have no idea
how much I like you. I know that I’m a bit of an, uh, idiot, sometimes, but I swear
that I’ve never wanted to hurt you. I don’t support what Flash does to you. I don’t
support any of it. I hate what they do to you, but I’ve never had the courage
to confront them about it, to be honest. As much as I detest them, I guess I still
value their opinions. I’m so incredibly sorry, though, for letting them do all
of this bullshit to you.
“And,” you started charily,
“I’m sorry for avoiding you. I’m sorry for never being able to meet your eye. I’m
sorry for never speaking to you properly. It’s just, I- I really like you, like
really like you. You make me so
goddamn nervous and I just-“
But your incessant
rambling was all of a sudden interrupted by the press of a pair of sweet lips
against your own. A gasp escaped your mouth as Peter pulled away, his mask
finally left sitting on the floor beside him.
Albeit his flushed demeanour,
a timid smile tugged fervently at the corners of his lips, a grin soon
spreading across his face. As he looked into your eyes, his own twinkled
gloriously, as though he’d just won the lottery.
“Don’t apologise, Y/N,
none of it was your fault. But,” he added cheekily, “for the record: I really like you too.”
There was absolutely
nothing you could’ve done to halt the broad grin from gracing your features,
even if you wanted to. Your own eyes lit up as you took in Peter’s
authenticity, and your appreciation for him grew to whole new level.
“I’m still sorry,
“Don’t be, Y/N,” he
said, this time seriousness strewn along his face. “I don’t want you to
apologise for something you couldn’t help. Please,” he pleaded, eyes
beseeching, lips pouting.
Rolling your eyes, you
shook your head. “You’re such a little dork, you know that?”
Peter beamed. “I know,
but at least I’m your little dork.”
You laughed at the pink
tinge gradually crawling up his neck. “My little Spider-Dork,” you agreed,
before pulling him forwards and capturing his lips with your own.
Hello anon! Now, this is a controversial issue in the otherkin community and I’m not one hundred percent certain I know everything, so if someone comes in and corrects me, I would listen to their correction over my post.
Okay, so glitchkin is, by definition, someone who identifies as a glitch. This generally means that they feel that their existence is literally a glitch in the universe. They aren’t meant to exist, or at least not in the way that they do. From what I know, a lot of (but not all) glitchkin tie their identity to neurodivergence. Essentially, even their way of thinking and/or perceivinn is glitched.For example, they could have incredibly intrusive thoughts, delusions, hallucinations, depersonalizations, bouts of disassociation, and any other of severe symptoms from their neurodivergence. I haven’t heard of any myself, but I suppose it could also be tied to physical disability; one could feel “glitched” due to their physical body being wrong in any number of ways. It could even be tied to a “glitched” gender identity in some way or form. Regardless of why or how they feel glitched, that feeling is so tied up in their sense of self that they identify firmly as a “glitch”.
Now, the reasons why this is controversial is, as far as I know, mainly the issue of how can one identify as an inanimate object? A portion of the community feels confused about this and thus feels that glitchkin is not a viable identity. I cannot speak for glitchkin but… As someone who due to abuse honestly at times thinks strongly of myself as a toy that someone played with, purposefully broke, and then threw away, I can understand how the feeling of being a glitch can get so tied up with someone’s identity. Which arrives at the other main issue regarding glitchkin: the concept of health. A lot of people think that identifying as a glitch is promoting mental illness. Since most of it is tied up to neurodivergence, if one is feeling glitchy, it does tend to be due to one being considered “mentally unwell”. The reasons many identify as glitchkin are often symptoms of serious mental disorders and many feel that accepting those as part of one’s identity means that they will never receive help with those problems. Another issue then arises with well, what if one does get help with those problems? Then they have no reason to identify as a glitch. And that’s an issue because otherkin isn’t supposed to be a transient thing. Either you are or you aren’t. Now, I personally feel that those arguments are flawed and that one can identify validly as a glitch. Part of it is due to my own feelings of feeling like a broken object due to abuse. I can also back it up by an argument if I need to, but that’s not the point of the post. The post is to explain what glitchkin is, and I felt that one needed to know some of the controversy in case they wanted to explore it for themselves.
p.s. nebulaez this might help you as well. I’m not positive but I hope it brings some answers!