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THE DEVIL ALL THE TIME (dir. Antonio Campos, 2020)

#damn that was a good adaption i'm happy with how it turned out #tom did arvin justice #very good everyone what a good murderous time

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ULTIMATE SHIPS CHALLENGE - [10/10] Hugs ↳ “Are you okay?” “I’m okay, are you okay?” “Yeah.”

#oh man now i feel like rewatching it i miss them

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chadwickboseman It is with immeasurable grief that we confirm the passing of Chadwick Boseman. 

Chadwick was diagnosed with stage III colon cancer in 2016, and battled with it these last 4 years as it progressed to stage IV. 

⁣A true fighter, Chadwick persevered through it all, and brought you many of the films you have come to love so much. From Marshall to Da 5 Bloods, August Wilson’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom and several more, all were filmed during and between countless surgeries and chemotherapy. ⁣⁣

It was the honor of his career to bring King T’Challa to life in Black Panther. ⁣He died in his home, with his wife and family by his side. ⁣

The family thanks you for your love and prayers, and asks that you continue to respect their privacy during this difficult time. ⁣⁣

Photo Credit: @samjonespictures

#lots of love to family and friends #rest in peace and in power #will be missed and never forgotten

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Hey there, my dudes. I have been thinking that I feel silly about my writing, especially the older ones for reasons such as the grammar, broken english, and also plot. Not gonna lie, the thought of just deleting everything has crossed my mind, but what the hell, I might just leave it there. As a reader, I know that is kind of sad to find out something you liked and wanted to take a look at it again is not on air anymore. Plus, Peter and MJ are my babies, I don't wanna let go.

Anyway, if I ever feel like deleting stuff, I'll give you guys a heads up here, just in case you want to download it (though I'd hate it to be published in public on a website again, so please, don't).

I haven't forgot about spideychelle and if I get the energy to write something, I will. In the meantime, enjoy my 60+ very silly fics that I have already written.

#there's dust on this acc i barely use it #but i wanted to talk a little #since sometimes i see people following even now #i'm grateful but i'm not very active so there it is

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here's a link to a carrd compiling ways you can support the black lives matter movement (made by twt user @dehyedration)

other than listing petitions, places to donate, and where to call/text, it also compiles resources such as threads debunking misinfo, education on black history, and information for protestors. it's being updated regularly

#i barely use this acc but i figured i should share #the system needs to be brought down but in the meantime we have to care for those putting their lifes on the line in protests #these protests violent and non-violent are both valid and we should burn this gov down #take care people

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This jacket owns my heart.

ZENDAYA Allure Magazine / 2019 › Behind The Scenes

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Hey there, anyone that follows me might know if The Devil All The Time is going to be released on Netflix in the near future (despite the unexpected ongoing global razzle dazzle)? I've been waiting a year for this murderous little book to come to life in a screen.

#personal i guess? but tom related! #i need me some crazy people and murder #that would be delightful in these current trying times

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from the 70s au: peter to mj

#this post made me happy #and i remembered of my that 70s show au

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this personality test just obliterated me. saying it roasted me would be the biggest understatement

#MOE FROM SIMPSONS #HAHAHA can't say it's a lie

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love is still love even if all goes to shit

I'm alive and I tried to write a little thing. (romance, angst, dramatic) 917 words.

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“I’m just really, really, lonely.” Peter confessed.

“I warned you’d be.” MJ didn’t let him unsettle her yet.

Peter smiled, he didn’t fake it really well, and it was obvious her reply had unsettled him at least a little bit. Still, he took the liberties to fully enter her bedroom and to sit at the edge of her window. She didn’t say anything against it and he took it as a sign that he was allowed to stay, despite her somewhat bitter response to the reason why he had showed up.

“Can you give me a break?” Peter asked with a bit of humor in his voice, in an attempt not to sound like he was begging.

Looking at him sitting by the window, like nothing’s wrong made MJ a bit mad, mostly because it reminded her of their teenage years, and how he would appear, sit there, and they would talk and be in love, ignoring whatever was wrong in each other’s lives.

“Not really.” MJ answered, trying to remain unfazed and ignoring the memories in her head. “You broke my heart, after all.”

He should’ve expected that, Peter thought. At least she was taking longer than Ned to tell him to fuck off. “Why haven’t you told me to get out yet?”

MJ knew she had only one answer to that question. She uncrossed her arms and sat on her bed, not in defeat, but finally a little vulnerable. “Because I miss you too.”

Peter sighed in relief, as if MJ had been pointing a gun at him this whole time and now she had finally put it down.

She wasn’t done, though. “Isn’t Felicia Hardy enough company to you?”

“It’s not like that.” Turns out MJ had just briefly hid the gun behind her back, and now she was pointing it at him again. “That’s just some shit the news made up.” He was telling the truth.

She scoffed, even though what he did in his private life had nothing to do with her, it’s been like that for some years. “It didn’t look like that in the pictures.”

“Weird angles.” Peter explained, still telling the truth. “Are you jealous?” He didn’t ask it to be snarky, but because he genuinely wanted to know.

“No.” MJ wasn’t quite sure if she was telling the truth or not, but it didn’t really matter. “I just thought she was perfect for you, you know, since she’s from your world, so you don’t have to be alone.”

“It’s not like that.” Peter repeated, his voice small. “I…” He didn’t know what else to say. “I just wanted to see you and listen to your voice.”

“When I told you not to leaves us, many times, and that doing so would make you miserable…” She took a deep breath. “… you didn’t listen. So what’s the point now?”

Peter didn’t respond.

“You don’t get to come back, and pretend you want Ned and I back in your life, as if you’re not going to leave us to the first threat, to the first bad guy that says they’re going to hurt us.” MJ continued, at this point she was crying. “You don’t get to not let us see your face for years and then come back as if you weren’t the one who hurts us.”

From the beginning, Peter had known it was a mistake to try and see them. He was desperately sinking in loneliness and had thought that even if they were only to say hurtful things to him, it would still be worth it, he’d still get to see the only people left in this world that at least once upon a time loved him.

May’s anniversary had arrived again, and Peter made a choice when he saw the flowers MJ and Ned had left in her grave. It hurt, and now he was confused if it was really loneliness or self-hatred that had drove him there. Either way, MJ was crying and he realized his selfishness.

“You don’t get to do that.” MJ said, her voice trembled as she tried to dry her tears.

“I’m sorry.” Peter begged. “I’m sorry for coming here. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Are you going to ask me to take you back?” MJ questioned, tears dried.

“No.” He answered. “Would you take me back if I did?”

“No.” She wanted to kiss him, and she hoped he wanted to kiss her too. MJ hated herself a little bit for it. She was currently with someone else, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him, still, MJ was capable of bringing herself to confess something else. “I love you,”

Peter finally concluded that it was definitely both loneliness and self-hatred that drove him there. He was willing to bet that MJ saying those words now hurt more than if she had told him to go away the second she saw his face.

“I love you too.” He really wanted to kiss her, but instead of kissing her, Peter went away.

“Never let me go, promise?” MJ had asked him all these years ago.

“I promise.” Peter had answered. It was a lie, he had known it even back then, and it didn’t take long for him to break that promise along with her heart.

At least, in some point in life, he loved MJ and she loved him back. Peter didn’t know for how long this would do as consolation, but for now that’s all he had. That’s all he has.

#spideychelle #spideychelle fic #peter x mj #mj x peter #petermj #Peter and Michelle

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Neutral Pantser, definitely.

Via @CheyanneALepka at Twitter.

#but what is a pantser #what a funny word #never heard of it but it me

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sometimes i think about how mj said the word boh was her new superpower in a tone that suggests she has other and older superpowers, she could be a magical ancient being that has been woken only recently for all i know

#the possibilities are endless #she doesn't trust people because a human sealed her soul thousands of years ago #who knows ?? #i love the way she talks she can be cryptic #spideychelle #mj x peter #michelle jones

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gotta love these types of reactions

#spideychelle fic #honestly this fic has some hilarious comments #sometimes i go back to it to have a laugh

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a heart beats and it breaks

Between hungovers, I've managed to write something before the decade ends. Here you go! 970 words (romance, dramatic, bittersweet)

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In that short period after Christmas but before New Year, Michelle had found time alone, at last. She waited at home, in her living room. Sitting on the couch and tapping her feet against the floor repeatedly, anxious, staring directly at her TV but not quite seeing what was shown on the screen. Her mind was not there.

No one was there, and as Michelle continued on waiting, she felt as if her living room had turned ten times bigger than it actually was, making her feel isolated and alienated in such a big place. She could almost view her anxiety destroying every furniture, every object, every little thing that was real, to make up for an infinite space, to create a room in which she could see the walls, but she could never reach them, not mattering how much she ran towards it.

Michelle heard a noise, kind of like a thump, coming from the direction of her bedroom, and suddenly her living room was back to its normal size. It was small, furnished and real like any other New York apartment. The tapping of the feet resumed, and Michelle got up from her couch, heading towards the noise that had grounded her back to reality.

Peter, she thought. It was him, and despite the current circumstances, he had showed up at her place like he would if it were calmer times, just like a regular teenage boy trying to steal more time with his girlfriend, sneaking in by a window.

Michelle hugged him tight, desperately, because he was no regular teenage boy and it weren’t calmer times at all. She heard a big sigh of relief coming from him as he embraced her back, just as desperate. Michelle imagined it was the kind of relieved sigh only people that had been so hurt and lonely could let out. She hadn’t noticed, but she had sighed just the same.

In a sense, not only her, but Peter and everyone, were all constantly inside an infinite room with unreachable walls. There was so much space, and yet it was still like a cell, they were all stuck. They had no freedom because it was stolen from them.

Then Michelle thought that in retrospect, no one was ever really free, especially Peter, he always had too much responsibility thrown his way for that. He probably never really tasted freedom except for the times that he could freely swing in the heights of New York skyscrapers. Now even that was taken away from him.

Michelle touched the back of his neck, and smiled. “Your hair is longer.” She realized then, you never really know what are going to be your first words to someone. Michelle wondered if last words are also often so spontaneous. She doubted they could be as sweet.

Peter laughed briefly and softly, both still holding onto each other. “Funny. May said the same thing.”

Michelle felt good hearing he had been able to at least see his aunt. She knew they didn’t spend any holidays together, and that broke her heart. Michelle wasn’t big in family reunions and things related, but these two, they just, constantly, break her heart. She thinks about it every time she sees May, and notices she’s been using more make-up to try and hide the horror and worry in and around her eyes.

“Yours is shorter.” Peter said, touching her hair. Her curls only reached her shoulders now.

At first, Michelle had cut her hair without much thought, but since then, she had put a lot of thought in it. Like, how she did it shortly after he left. It fit like a way to track time, she thinks. Month after month, Peter remained a runaway and her hair kept on growing back, because time doesn’t stop, and she had to live her own life. Michelle often wondered how long her hair would be when things get better, when he gets free. She assumed that constant thought was the reason for a recurring nightmare where she was asphyxiated by her own meters-long hair.

“It’s pretty.” He told her.

Michelle curled her finger on the hair covering the nape of his neck. “Yours is pretty too.”

Their kiss wasn’t intense like their hug. It was gentle as they told one another that this wasn’t their last time, so there was no need to be desperate, and like anyone else, they could savor at least this, a delicate kiss.

They laid on her bed, and only then, as Peter touched more of her, Michelle realized how his hands were cold. She had never imagined his touch to feel cold to the skin. Her hands were warm, all of her was, but his ears and the tip of his nose were like ice. Peter was cold because he was outside, and Michelle was warm because she was inside, right? That’s the logical explanation.

Michelle laid her head on his chest. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

The whole world was against and wanted to ruin this boy, and yet he was right there and she heard his heartbeat. Things felt so much simpler. He was only human, and one she loved.

“What does it say?” Peter asked.

Michelle heard it one more time, then kissed his chest and then his neck. “It says people are so cold.”

He gently grabbed her hair, lovingly laying her on her back this time, kissing her like she had done to him.

“So cruel.” She muttered.

From her neck, Peter’s lips traveled to her mouth, and then Michelle decided she wanted to get rid of the cold, and make him warm just as she is.

The next morning, Michelle would lay alone in the mess they made of her bed sheets, and then think red is a warm color, isn’t it?

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Please, leave me your feedback, I'd appreciate it. Happy holidays, have a happy new year!

#spideychelle #spideychelle fic #Peter and Michelle #michelle jones #petermj #mj x peter #peter x mj #peter x michelle

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Happy holidays, everyone. I've been drinking some and contemplating bleaching my eyebrows lately, so I just wanted to say I don't think I'll be writing these days, but someday! Don't give up hope! Anyways, thanks for all the support you guys have given to my writing this year.

#the look i wanna go for is of a handsome demon #but then again maybe my thoughts are clouded by hungovers #i'll write again only next year HEHEHE #GET IT? cause it's almost the new year sooo #not that long !!!

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Oh, that's a good one.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar / Pheobe Waller-Bridge, Fleabag

#unrelated to spideychelle but #whatever #end of the semester and i'm in shambles #and this made me feel nice

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Just remembered this FFH speculation one-shot I wrote some time ago, before the movie came out. Now that the movie is long released, coming back to this is pretty interesting, lol. Can't point out why I personally really like this one short piece of writing.

Skyfall

(Posting this here too, because why not?)

[Dramatic, Romance, Inspired by Adele’s Skyfall, not related to the 007 movie, Far from home speculation.]

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First, the window’s glasses shattered into pieces, cutting her skin. Then, Michelle was there, vulnerable, inside a booth at the top of a Ferris Wheel, the cold wind invading and making her wince.

Second, it moved. Michelle felt a cruel relief for a second, cruel because it was taken away from her right after. It was not safely moving down as she expected. It moved again, more violently, fast. And that was it.

Gravity made her fly, the glass that shattered gave space to a void for her body to go through, to go out, to be dropped from a 200 foot tall Ferris Wheel. Michelle tried to hold on, putting her right hand at the window’s edge, her legs wobbling in the open air. It was useless. A remaining sharp piece of glass was the first thing she felt when she held on the edge, ruining her last desperate attempt to save herself.

Michelle’s body did not obey her will to hold on, immediately her hand moved from the offending object.She fell.

This is the end 

Hold your breath and count to ten 

Feel the earth move and then 

Hear my heart burst again

Maybe, if she had not put on that dress that day, this would not have happened. Maybe if Michelle was not all too hopeful of meeting Peter Parker for a date, she would have not been there in the first place.

It was a first after a long time, she finally had allowed herself to hope. Peter would show up, he would sweep her off her feet, he would be a nice gentleman, making silly things to impress her. Things he would not have to do, because she was already too deep in love with him. He did not even know that.

Michelle could have given a hug to her mother when she gave her that dress that used to be hers. It carried memories, it carried sentiment. She could have hugged her, instead she just said thanks. She could have given her mom so much more hugs.

She could have told Ned, with words, how important his friendship was to her. How important all her newfound friends were to her, even if they were not there with her at that moment. Michelle had a world to change, a better future to build, she could have done so many things. She could have told Peter how she really felt, using all her fancy vocabulary, even if he was not with her at her last pitiful moment.

Skyfall is where we start 

A thousand miles and poles apart 

Where worlds collide and days are dark

As she fell, Michelle could see her own forearms, a bit of blood dripping from her right hand to her face. She could see the night sky, the pretty stars. She did not know if her vision became blurry, or if her mind had gone insane, but every single one of them seemed to become shooting stars before her eyes. It was truly beautiful.

It was a mockery. The same way the fireworks had mocked her earlier. As she stood in the middle of a crowd, alone, maybe even forgotten, and the loud sounds of the fireworks dared to give her a scare. Michelle looked up at the sky, and the shining colors were up together with the clouds, so bright in the dark of the night. Incredibly beautiful, they mocked her. It made fun of her loneliness, when she had no one to watch this show with her.

Maybe she should have been straight-forward with Peter about his secrets. Then, maybe some of this self-pity would hurt less, at least, he would not have to lie. That way, maybe Michelle could absorb better the reality that he had something more important to do than to be with her.

Or, she could have given up on these feelings. She should have done that a long ago, or even an hour ago. She could have avoided his brown eyes. Maybe if she had, Michelle would not want to enjoy her own sorrow, all by herself, on a Ferris Wheel somewhere in Europe.

Betty and Ned offered to keep her company, to take a ride together with them. She denied. Michelle could have accepted it, then maybe she would not be alone seeing shooting starts that did not exist. They could fall together, or in a better scenario, even save each other.

Instead, Michelle thought it was better to be left alone. She ended up alone, with everything romantic in a romantic European city, but none of that touched her, or reached her heart. It was meaningless.

Michelle was falling, and she took what she thought to be the last look at the flower pattern of her mother’s dress. She longed for life, and for him. Usually, she yearned for the feel of his lips, for the caress of his hand, for the warmness of his body. Only now, she dreamed of red and blue , and for the last time, she hoped. It never came.

Where you go I go 

What you see I see 

I know I’d never be me 

Without the security 

Of your loving arms 

Keeping me from harm 

Put your hand in my hand 

And we’ll stand

Red and blue never came, but dark pitch black came. The wind hitting her, changed directions. The shooting stars disappeared. The numb silence that only gave voice to her own thoughts faded away. Now, she also heard the screams, the fire, the chaos. Most importantly, she felt his arm around her, embracing her back to life.

Michelle finally reached the ground, but she did not fall,she landed, standing. She never fantasized about being the damsel in distress, never liked the idea. She tried not to think about it after she just gained another chance to breathe.

Her legs were shaky, and she held a moment longer on him. Michelle wanted to see his face, but all she got was a mask and lifeless eyes. She wanted him to say sweet nothings to her, but he never did. She felt his fingertips touching her cheek, as if he was confirming if she was really there, safe and alive, with him. Skin against skin, it did not feel warm, it felt cold, the same as their reality.

That cold reality was what made him swing away, as if he had just slipped through her fingers. Michelle had him right there, but then, a second later, she did not.

“MJ.”

It was not Peter’s voice, but relief still washed over her, because it was Ned. He had cuts on his face and arms that looked a lot like hers. Him and Betty were alive, now that was all that mattered. Her mind started to work again, her sanity came back to her.

“It’s Mysterio.” Ned said.

Of course it was.

Michelle ripped a part of her dress, where it was already damaged due to the flying shattered glasses of before, and wrapped the piece of fabric around her right hand. She decided it was now her Red Right Hand, her power to reach divine vengeance.

“I have a plan.” Michelle declared.

The sky could fall, it could crumble, they, themselves, could turn into ashes, but they would always come back. They would always find a way.

Let the sky fall 

When it crumbles 

We will stand tall 

Face it all together 

At skyfall

Michelle, Peter, Ned, together they would fight. Together, they will stand tall.

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(My ao3 link is on the profile. Feel free to send prompts, not that I’ll promise anything.)

#spideychelle #spideychelle fic #peter x michelle #michelle jones #mj x peter #peter x mj #idk i felt nostalgic i guess but i really like this one #even tho it didn't get much attention back then #it's my underrated child i love