Hi I’m Etaf From Gaza

stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women

"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!

pro-AI in the sense of "they taught a bread scanning computer to recognize cancer cells" etc etc

against AI in the sense of "we stole artwork from hundreds to thousands of artists, didn't credit them and didn't financially compensate them"

like, I genuinely don't care lmfao like, yeah, explore dark subjects and themes within your writing by all means bc there's loads of good books out there that do exactly that (American Psycho, Lolita, Fight Club, the Dexter Morgan series, etc), but there's a huge difference between, like, genuinely dark content that involves heavy subjects and themes but doesn't romanticise or glorify them, and content which does.

like, the very second that you decide that shit like rape, molestation, incest, pedo bullshit and all that other fuckin bollocks is acceptable to write as wank material - you immediately lost all integrity and ability to call it art lmao it's not art, it's a piss poor excuse to get off to heinous bullshit that's genuinely harmful. fantasy doesn't exist in a fuckin vacuum and you cunts have GOT to accept that, the same as you have GOT to accept that, yeah, what happens in fiction DOES have an impact on real life - or are you daft cunts gonna sit there and say that propaganda isn't real? or that the Jaws Effect isn't real? are you genuinely gonna look me in the eyes and tell me that the media had NO PART in the dehumanisation and demonisation of Arab men? or that the media had NO PART in the fear mongering and demonisation of queer people?

like, fuckin please. I ain't no fuckin prude, but like, some of you cunts think that art means a viable and justified way to produce what's literally kiddie porn and rape porn, and you fuckin ran w it even tho, if anyone irl SAW THAT SHIT, they'd be disgusted. bc it's NOT "dark fic", it's NOT "dark art", or whatever the fuck you wanna call it - it's a fuckin gross, and it's extremely harmful. there's NOTHING romantic or cute or hot about rape, molestation, incest, OR fuckin pedo bollocks. literally nothing.

another reminder to stop buying/watching/reading anything JK Rowling associated

Study Dates | Johnny Cage

“I’m sat right next to you, why are you sending me memes?” With Johnny cage? // ANONYMOUS

There were times when you loved study dates with Johnny, when he would bring a pizza over and sit on your bed as you sat doing revision at your desk, but there were also times when you hated them; he would still keep up the tradition of pizza and sitting on your bed, but he would constantly blow your phone up with memes. Just to see you smile, to see you laugh. 

With ‘Hollywood’ by Marina playing from your game console, you shook your head at the seemingly non-stop vibrations of your phone, causing you to turn to your boyfriend with a frown. 

“Johnny, I love you, but I’m sat right next to you, why are you sending me memes?” 

Johnny smiled, shrugging a little and relaxing against your stack of pillows, tossing his phone down beside his legs. “It’s been three hours, (y/n), don’t you think it’s time to take a break?” 

You shook your head, running a hand through your hair and staring at your laptop, asking yourself why endoparasites were so hard to revise. “I need to get this done, the exam’s on Monday, and I can’t risk failing.” 

Frowning at the words you did not speak, the anxiety that was evident in your eyes and in your tone, the nervousness and stress that he saw when your hands shook at the keyboard and the aggravated patches on your arms where you had been scratching; he stood up, getting off of your bed and choosing to stand beside you, his hands on your shoulders as he hummed. 

“You deserve a break, baby, you’re not gonna get anywhere if you keep stressing yourself out… come on, we’ll watch that thing you told me about on Netflix.” 

You yearned to join him, you really did, but when you saw how many more pages you had left to read and make notes on, you let out a defeated whine. “As much as I’d love that, I can’t… I got so much to do, and I can’t-” 

“Come on, you know you want to,” he pleaded. 

“Johnny…” you leaned into his touch and did your best to put temptation aside. 

“You’re taking a break,” Johnny growled, using that stern and dominant tone that he knew made your knees weak and your teeth bite your lip, reaching forward so he could close the laptop. “You can come back to it later, okay?” 

You nodded, clearing your throat and looking up at him with a slight lust in your eyes. “Okay.” 

what is it with the cod fandom and rape

genuinely dont think ive ever seen as much non-con and just blatantly labelling characters as rapists as often as i do in the cod tags

hello?? whats hot abt being violated?? pls enlighten me

he’s so pookie coded

i just think that it would be funny for male reader to flirt with miguel but exclusively by calling him shit like babygirl, mamas, mamacita, and a milf. just a thought though.

Hey Mamas - Miguel O'Hara x male! reader headcanons+drabble

So I really just went with it and tried to make it as realistic as possible, anyways, Miguel is so bbg and I love him <3

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Miguel pretends to hate it, like outwardly he genuinely looks so pissed

But secretly, he kind of likes it, he thinks it’s funny at the bare minimum

Has totally considered responding to them in non-serious ways

He would never admit to liking them though, utterly ashamed that he enjoys them at all

Imagine walking into his little platform office room and just going “hey mamas” to see him look away from his screens to give you the harshest glare he’s ever given, with the faintest blush on his cheeks

Like almost impossible to see faint, but if you look hard enough it’s there

His favorite would probably be Mamacita or Mami

He would totally tolerate the rest and barely tolerates Babygirl

“Hey, Mamas! How’s it going?” Walking into the room that he had essentially claimed as his office, (y/n) called out to him with a box of empanadas in hand as a peace offering. 

“What do you want (y/n)?” He didn’t even look away from the screens, Miguel knew he was just trying to flirt with him, and he didn’t want to show it was working at all. 

“I’ve got empanadas for you” swinging up to the floating platform to stand next to Miguel, (y/n) offers out the to-go box in his hand to the taller man with a smirk. Miguel looked over at it and his expression softened ever so slightly as he took the box.

“Que maravilla” Looking back to the screens he opened it and started to eat one of them.

“Anything for my favorite babygirl” Knowing he was treading on thin ice, (y/n) quickly gave Miguel one last smile before swinging off the platform and out of the room. Despite his hate for the nickname, Miguel couldn’t help but smile slightly to himself at the thought of it.

“Favorite babygirl…he’ll be the death of me”

why do I feel horrible now 💀

you know what bothers me the most about the way you, readers, treat writers on here? it’s the fact that you have the fucking nerve (and time!) to demand, disrespect, send hate and so on to these kind souls but won’t use those lazy fingers for less than a fucking second to reblog the damn fic (that, mind you, must’ve taken days to be written, edited and revised) you just finished consuming.

do you see this? this is your doing. so next time you wonder why a writer hasn’t posted/updated a fic, i want you to know exactly whose fault that is.

fanfic culture has been dying for years now, and that is on every single one of you who do not bother to support the people who keep your favorite fan spaces alive for free.

before you leave this post, i want you to ask yourself this: if you were in the shoes of the artists that post here, how would you feel if your art was consumed like a fucking tiktok and then instantly forgotten with not a single ounce of feedback for the thing you spent so much time working on? it’s not so easy when it happens to us, huh?

as sad as it makes me to see people i admire leaving, i honestly feel relieved for them. why? because no one deserves to be treated like this. and before you dare to think to yourself “this isn’t affecting me, why should i care?”, remember: the person responsible for sharing your favorite content on here might be the next one leaving.

I think a lot of people negate just how fucking prevalent male privilege is, esp when it comes to conversations online.

like, when we talk abt fetishisation, we are always referring to the specific, right? so, a lot of the time, we're referring to when people take a group (such as lesbians) and turn them into a specific sexual fetish for someone outside of it (men). and the thing is that, yeah! gay men ARE also fetishised, but the difference is in treatment.

when lesbians are fetishised, there is ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS, an underlying inherent nature of violence to it; whether that's violence via corrective rape, violence via sexual assault, violence via hate crimes. and that's especially true when it comes to the fetishisation of trans lesbians - there is an inherent violent nature to it.

on the flip side, however, when gay men are fetishised, there is NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, an underlying level of violence. yeah, it's uncomfortable & it's fucking gross, but no, you aren't going to be attacked or murdered.

and that is male privilege. men will never have to worry abt people who fetishise them actually fucking murdering them for saying "no" when harassed into being asked for sex. and I can't even believe this needs to be said, in all honesty, but evidently it does, so fuck it.

a lot of you lot forget that male privilege exists, like, MASSIVELY, and negate its prevalence within society in order to be misogynistic. you act as if fetishisation of gay men is exactly the same, fuckin 1:1, with the fetishisation of lesbians but it is NOT.

yeah, we're both hypersexualised and treated like & portrayed as just little sex toys for people who don't even see us as human beings. yes, it's homophobic and fucking disgusting how people treat us as their own personal little porno projects solely for existing as gay & lesbian. yeah! it's fucking GRIM!

but gay men do NOT have to wonder if the person saying those things is gonna be violent towards gay men at all. gay men don't have to sit there and wonder if the woman saying "mmm I love jerking it to gays - you should two should make out, it'd be SO HOT!" is gonna fuckin beat your head and teeth in for refusing to kiss a man on the bus. gay men don't have to worry abt these things when it comes down to fetishisation, and that is male privilege.

see the fuckin difference?

stop NEGATING male privilege. stop DENYING that it does v much exist.

" I don't always like the things I have to do. " | Miguel O'Hara x male (villain) reader.

Ik he's been through so much, but why not put him through alittle more? Angst NO COMFORT, Unknown identities, identities are eventually discovered. Reader is based off the Prowler, Remember Miguel doesn't have a no killing rule? mhm. Blood and cuts mentioned! 1k words , Male reader , No NSFW mentioned, Minors DNI.

A small click sounded from your clawed glove as you disconnected it from your suit, placing it onto the table lightly as you looked around your base with narrowed eyes. Jesus, was it gloomy in here. You thought to yourself, taking off your mask as you gasped in fresh air.

You could finally go back to your apartment, and live your relatively normal life with your beautiful boyfriend. Aside from the fact you were literally the fucking Prowler. But only when you were called out. You had a debt with your boss, and if you didn't repay it, he'd threaten to hurt you or your loved ones. Yeah, Nueva York criminals were real predictable with their circumstances.

Only thing you'd have to do was work for him as a criminal for the rest of your life which was very likely to be cut short because of your ' job path '.

Wasn't that a pain in the ass?

You suddenly heard a rustle behind you, you instantly tensed up as you quickly pulled your mask down, grabbing ahold of the heavy glove as you clicked it back on as you spun around, meeting your eyes with a muscular man in a blue suit with red markings was sitting on one of the poles, sharp talons digging into the metal to hold himself.

You audibly groaned as you recognized the man who'd been watching you. Spiderman. He man who'd gotten close several times to capture you. God, you hoped this would be one of those times too. " Prowler. How about we make this easy on the both of us and let me take you in without a fight? " He offered, jumping down as his muscles were very clearly tensed as he took steps toward you.

Even if he asked to take you in easily, he knew you weren't gonna do that. " Sorry, Spiderman. I got my own thing to do. " You mumbled, voice distorted, listening to the light whir of your mechanical gloves as you leaped forward, Spiderman moving swiftly to the side as you turned sharply on your heel. " Why can't you leave me the hell alone? " You scoffed, twisting your neck enough for it to crack.

" Its kinda my job to take down criminals, if you didn't know. " He replied snarkily, picking up on the light accent which coated his voice. You stood up straight, nodding your head upward in a " come on, then " motion. You could almost hear the annoyed sigh which came from the stupidly tall man.

Spiderman jumped forward before you could react, grabbing ahold of your throat as he slammed you against the wall, feeling sharp talons against the sides of your throat as you lifted your legs upto his abdomen, kicking him back. He grunted as his claws scrape against your neck, ripping the fabric of your mask that went down to your collarbones as you felt a sharp stinging sensation.

You gasped as you felt blood start to instantly rush out of your cuts, shaking your blood as you focused on the problem infront of you instead of the one on you. ' Asshole. ' You muttered, quietly to yourself. You lunged forward quickly as you dragged your own metal glove across his face as you landed one, two, three punches successfully. Spiderman gasped out, grabbing your wrist before you could punch him a fourth time.

You tried to tug your arm out of his grip, panic starting to settle in the pit of your stomach. Spiderman twisted your arm sharply, feeling your ligament tear as you let out a muffled cry, the distortion making it sound eerie. You looked at the blue and red suited man, your pupils dilated as you used your other arm to cut at his abdomen, long red lines dragging from his chest down to his hip.

He loosed his grip slightly which gave you an opportunity to quickly pull your arm away from him, flinching at the pain before quickly recovering. You stared at Spiderman who was examining his wounds before jumping back at him, rolling for a moment in a struggle before pinning him down. Your fear starting to settle down, your mind instantly starting to fill with rage as you looked down at him, grabbing ahold of his throat before he could get back up, slamming him down against the concrete floor.

Spiderman choked out violently, a cough erupted as the back of his head hit the hard surface, a throbbing sensation starting to form in his head as his vision became fuzzy. You started to claw at his suit aggressively, cuts and scrapes starting to appear on his body before you tightened the grip on Spidermans throat. His chest heaved heavily as you did so, you started to punch at his face instead, small tears starting to form as your metal fist met with his cheek time and time again.

Until there was a hole large enough that you could see an eye.

An eye so painfully familiar.

The eyes that would normally make your heart swell with adoration and with happiness, instead caused your heart to drop.

Was it? It couldn't be. Miguel was at work, your beautiful, adoring boyfriend was at work. He couldn't be the Spiderman you're punching the life out of. Right?

...

Right?

No, it wasn't right. The soft wrinkle in the corner of his eyes when he normally smiled was now crinkled in pain. It was him. It was Miguel O'hara. The man you fell in love with.

You pulled back your hands instantly, panic and worry starting to fill your brain as you cried out, feeling several sharp talons in between the heavy chestplate and the plate which covered your back, digging into your stomach. Letting out shallow breathes as you shakily looked down to the source of the pain, you saw Spidermans, or rather Miguels, claws digging into you, pushing further into you until he was at his second knuckle.

You fell on your side off of him, your legs curling upto your stomach as pain took over your entire body, you glanced at Miguel, watching him flinch as he stood up shakily. ' He's hurt. ' You thought to yourself, trying to make yourself sit up as you took off your glove, holding your bare hand against the stab wound. You sat up against your elbow, looking up at Miguel desperately.

As much pain he was in, he still had his intimidating build, slightly hunched over as he glared down at you. " Are you done yet? " He spat, venom dripping from his voice. You instantly realized the severity of your situation. He didn't know who you were, you just beat the fuck out of him, and he doesn't have a problem with killing. You held your bloody hand out shakily up to him, signaling him to wait, stopping him in his tracks.

You slowly brought a hand to press a button on your voice changer, bringing it back to your normal voice. " Miguel. " You groaned quietly in pain, moving back to apply pressure on the wound. Just as yours did, his heart dropped. He let out a small gasp, the voice was shaky and obviously not the same as you sounded when you were happy, but it sounded like it was you. Was it?

He instantly slid down to his knees at your side, taking off your mask as his heart pounded so hard he was sure you could hear it too. Much to his misfortune, it was you. Miguel took his own mask off, bruises and cuts were scattered all over, but his focus was no longer on his pain. He cradled you in his arms, resting your back against his forearm.

" Hey, hey (Name). Mírame. You're gonna be okay, I promise. Fuck, I'm sorry. " He apologized, worry coating his words. You only looked at him with hazy eyes, nodding as best you could. Yeah, you were definitely bleeding out. You concluded, looking at the puddle of blood on the floor. " I'm gonna get you to a hospital, Love. Just hang on. " He ordered, gulping as he put his mask back on, picking you up bridal style.

How did he always manage to hurt the ones he loved?