#cannot wait for beyond the spiderverse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr.com is the 103rd most visited website in the world.

#cannot wait for beyond the spiderverse

lildoodlenoodle · 11 months

Text

Thinking about the way noir and Hobie were most likely treated because of how they look and being severely underestimated because of it.

Hobie looks and acts like a punk. He is just unserious enough to not be taken seriously. The dude is smart enough to recreate a dimension jumping watch from scraps, that people WATCH him steal and go “ugh sorry about that, he’s always like that”. And they treat him like an instigative child. Meanwhile this man is staging an interdimensional coup and is essentially a rebel freedom fighter in his own world. He is incredibly strategic and a genius while also being kind and sticking to his guns. And as a reminder, without knowing Miles or how his powers worked for even two minutes he was able to accurately help him improve his abilities! Man is observant and a quick thinker! But he’s quiet about it!

Noir dresses and sounds like an ‘oldtimer’ bc he’s from the 1930s. People probably went “ah yes grandpa” with the assumption of a mild mannered, old, and jaded private eye. Probably thought of as behind the times and not as intelligent because of lack of experience with technology. But overall first impression was of a sensible hardworking guy, and at worst melodramatic. In reality, dude is more than mildly neurotic, has severe anger issues, and prone to getting into fights. A raised socialist activist, who has very little to lose, and has canonically burned down the Statue of Liberty, shockingly he is a bit of a wildcard. And more than likely got kicked off/quit the ‘elite strike force’ for those reasons. But he’s also resourceful, smart, and quick to adapt.

Both of these characters are going to be a force to be reckoned with when they get together. Very much house on fire that burns down the entire neighborhood type relationship. I’m very excited.

5K notes · View notes

squonkinaswamp · 11 months

Text

okay I just need to get all my thoughts out here because across the spiderverse?? and absolute masterpiece

SPOILERS!!!!!!! for across the spiderverse btw if you didn’t catch that /////

I absolutely loved and am blown away by just how different across the spiderverse is from into the spiderverse. I love both films so so much for very different reasons but it was so much more adult in their struggles and their problems. it wasn’t better, per se, but it was amazing in it’s own way. everything about it was amazing and I can’t even begin to imagine anything of what they’re going through. all of them.

the beginning sequence with gwen was so ANGSTY I loved how she introduced miles it was so good and then the fight with her dad was so bad I actually cried in the theatre it was that good. and then fight between MILES and HIS parents and then we find out he’s only 15?? and he’s already going through so much?? they expect so much from him but he started out as spiderman when he was 14 and he’s been living a double life since like fuck. I thought he was older than that. he’s so precious though and you can tell that the pressure if getting to him in some of the most humane scenes I’ve seen in animated media, which I am absolutely loving.

then when he found out why gwen was actually there and then AGAIN when he found out that she wasn’t trying to protect him but in fact earth-50101 because of the canon events with the cop, just the absolute BETRAYAL that he felt in that moment and how he just needed to get away and cope and deal but he couldn’t, because he was missing and can we just talk about how he found all of this out within a few hours?? like the whole movie took course over a couple of hours and we’re just expected to what. be fine with that? honestly how miles didn’t cry I don’t know.

then when miles was going through the go home machine I was on the edge of my seat bc 42?? that's not his world huh?? and then he WENT there are rio had weird eyes and then it CLICKED and FUCK it was so good what the hell and THEN when he went upstairs and uncle aaron looked at his phone it was like. shit. oh god. so THATS whats happening. and THEN, PLOT TWIST, since there's no spiderman in that universe jeff died and miles became the PROWLER but it does raise the question was he ever supposed to be spiderman? in the original universe of 42? or was he always destined to be the prowler but on a chance encounter ended up destroying the lives of so many people by becoming a second spiderman in a completely different universe?? because we KNOW that he's an anomaly and we KNOW that he wasn't meant to become spiderman and because he DID the 1610 peter parker died and he basically replaced him and screwed up 1610 because he inadvertently created the Spot(love what they did with the bagel) so. was he originally supposed to become the prowler?? in universe 1610?

and fuck how is he dealing with the knowledge that HE'S the reason that the universes are so screwed up and he can't fix it no matter how hard he tries. because what does it matter? he can't do anything. and it sucks. and now he’s stuck in another universe that isn’t his and he can’t do anything about it, he can’t even cope with any of the stuff he learnt in the past few hours because he’s got a fight to do, he’s got to fight himself and god what about jeff and rio? they don’t know anything, only that he isn’t safe, only that he’s gone and they have no idea that he’s fighting for his life, for their lives at the moment, after finding out he’s simultaneously destroying everything everywhere else. they just think he’s snuck out, they have no idea what’s going on. and they won’t find out, they can’t, because miles /isn’t there/. It’s messing with me god.

I’m actually crying though across the spiderverse was so good and incredible and I’m screaming throwing a fit throwing up it was so cool and so good and I can’t. I just. woah. holy fuck.

but also characters I loved them all and the MUSIC was so good and matched the scenes so well and the OST WAS INCREDIBLE thank you daniel pemberton for this masterpiece and the ART. the art was so good. it was incredible and outstanding and amazing and holyyyyy shit so. I loved all the different styles they incorporated and yeah all the easter eggs were so cool but the art style overall was incredible.

cannot wait for beyond the spiderverse and the story they continue to tell.

20 notes · View notes

nominalnebula · 10 months

Text

finally saw across the spiderverse 100/10 would recommend

miles is such a badass, miguel needs to take a chill pill - all the chill pills, HOBIE!!!, gwen!! lookit my baby!!

that!! fucking ending!!! I'm still screaming over it

#micky speaks #I mean #metaphorically I cannot wait for beyond the spiderverse #in all actuality that movie can take as long as it needs to come out so long as the artists and crew are treated fairly #and humanely and none of this bullshit that's coming out about across the spiderverse #like come on #into the spiderverse was so good because y'#y'all weren't fucking over your crew like that #fuckin do better

2 notes · View notes

krill-joy · 9 months

Text

i hope animators are able to get a union and then make beyond the spider-verse.

#i cannot wait for the third movie #but hollywood does just need to totally reform itself real quick #beyond the spiderverse

1 note · View note

ladybirdswritings · 4 months

Text

Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: Miguel comes up with a plan to make your time together much more tolerable. Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333

notes: tysm for reading and i’m so srry for the delay but i hope this steamy chapter makes the wait worth it <33

chapter 10

Gold. Suffocating and blinding as it cascades upon the pale mounds and curves of your vessel. Your eyes a hue of darkness behind the shielding lids, your temples a pounding rhythm parallel to the beats you once waltzed amongst.

Your lips part, slumber’s dance with you slowly cascading into nothingness as luminous rays return to greet you. To tug your soft palms back into your reality.

Your lashes, fanned against your flushed skin now fan apart as your gaze is greeted with unavoidable radiance. The morning.

A breath leaves you, trembling as it greets the cool air. You force yourself upright and it is then that blood rushes from where it once lay dormant and pooled to spread itself evenly throughout you— enticing pins and needles from the tips of your fingers and toes.

You feel like a creature undead, following the actions as you would normally but in an imposter’s stance. Your feet drag you to the dimmer kitchen, and your temples are grateful to be secluded from the sun and its warmth.

A yawn overtakes your exhausted features as you open the russet metal of your refrigerator door. You must be dreaming still. It’s stocked with fresh fruits and produce bagged in tan wrappings. Your eyes wander over each welcoming color in the once vacant and lonesome, cold and gray space.

It’s lively now.

A burst of red peeking through behind awful greens piques your interest, and you bury your hands in the tufts of healthy emerald to pull the sweet basket filled to brim with blossomed strawberries. They are fresh and plentiful.

You truly are dreaming.

No longer do you notice the ache pounding at you. You only see red in the purest of ways. You shut the door with your foot and examine the seeded berry with hungry eyes before encasing your teeth round the plumpness of it.

It isn’t long before you part the ripe treat with pearly teeth, and you moan gratefully when you do. Juice drops from each corner of your mouth, down your chin as your lips suckle the nectar and swallow it in quick motion.

It’s the best one you’ve ever had.

Another bite, then another berry and another. You can only hear the soft chews of fresh fruit and sharp seed alongside the blood pumping in your ears.

You don’t hear the scorching water cascading to drain halt, and you don’t hear the rest until your eyes can register what your ears cannot.

As you munch upon the berries, you blink when a phantom creature turns the knob of your dilapidated washroom door and creaks the shield open. Steam rolls out into your living space like the waves of Poseidon’s great seas— but the only god to greet you beyond the mist is not one of oceans and pretty things.

It’s the evil one.

Hades.

Miguel.

A soft gasp leaves you as you swallow in the sight with dazed eyes, tufts of chocolate locks are coiled and dripping water all over your wooden floors. His suit pants are there as always, but his jacket is not present. No, not now. Only a white undershirt, tight to the body and tucked away into where a belt constricts is all he wears.

You gulp down the remainder of fruit you forgot to swallow and allow the severed berry to drop into its basket.

The man sighs, scrunching at his hair with the towel before tossing it on your couch. That would annoy you if you weren’t so baffled right here.

His eyes search the couch for you, and when he finds you vacant from your waltz with slumber— he scans the room quickly before settling on your frozen stance in the kitchen.

He locks eyes with you.

“Good morning.”

He says it with amusement, you’re certain. Laced behind his throat.

It is eerie, it is polar opposite.

He looks— calm.

Your mouth is ajar, you remind yourself to close it.

“I- what?”

He pays your confusion no mind as he approaches, weaving through your pathetic and unimportant home like he’s become comfortable with it— like he’s learned it.

He towers over all your trinkets and furniture, and the singular stool is bound to collapse under his weight. He eyes the broken thing then decides to lean forward against the counter instead.

You gulp, remnants of strawberry juice staining the newfound dryness in your throat. And the enigma of a man, he just studies you for a moment before turning over his palm. Waiting.

You gaze at it in confusion, wondering if he’s pointing out something upon you that you can’t see. Yet his eyes are on the basket.

Oh.

You pluck one from its leafy stem and shakily place it upon his calloused palm. His eyes lock back upon yours and he clears the tart berry in one bite— licking the juice from his lips with an eager tongue.

You squirm— knowing not what to do other than just slide over the basket. The silence is suffocating, reminding you of only two weeks prior when you practically begged the man before you for a place of employment alongside er— below him.

“I didn’t buy these!” You blurt out. Because you don’t know what else to say to break the quiet and because the thought only now crossed your mind. You know now. No appearance with him is any possibility of a dream.

The smell of palo santo is muted now. He smells of your floral soaps.

He indulges in another.

“I know. I did. Your fridge was pathetic.”

Oh.

Your eyes fall to the countertop, unwilling to meet his own. It’s far too tense, and far too confusing. You’re far too dazed.

“Why are you-?”

He interrupts you as if he had been expecting the question, “You were acting drunk, and stupid. I brought you home.”

You’d scowl at his description of you if you weren’t still coming to, searching the chilled air for answers you’d rather not be forced to ask of him. You knew well that you’d have to— he wouldn’t offer them any other way.

He must enjoy the torture. Inflicting it.

You narrow your eyes and the expression may seem devoid to most— but something tells you there’s more within it.

Fine, then.

Christ.

You shake your head, hearing him chew upon another berry as you greet your newly stocked fridge and steal a water from its stomach. Your back is to him as you swallow down heavy sips. You sigh after, and when the coolness has shocked you awake enough and you are satisfied- you turn.

A cool breath of air kisses your breast as result of the motion, and your eyes widen, shooting down to find a silken robe of powder pink all but you have clad on alongside your panties. It’s slipping.

Your eyes dart up to find him staring intensely at the spot where it does slip, and you twirl back away to harshly tug at it and fix it.

Your breasts are bare— your dress is gone.

Your jaw ticks and you turn again— taking quick strides toward the counter where he resides on the opposite side of.

“Did you fuck me?”

He is silent, eyes glazed over as if he’s lost in thoughts you cannot see or be apart of. He takes a moment to absorb your words, fingers twitching against the berry they clasp before he blinks and his dark orbs lock against your again.

They send an inferno against your flushed cheeks.

He hums.

You don’t know what at, but you have a strong feeling it’s at the thought.

You know, the thought of fucking you.

He stares on at you as he takes a bite of the berry, and slowly shakes his head back and forth.

It’s a no.

You sigh, but you’re not relieved.

You’re silent again, shakily taking a seat upon your creaky stool across from him. You fear if you stand for any longer under the brunt of his gaze, you’ll faint.

You bury your face in your hands, and you feel his eyes against your golden locks. The place where he stares, your scalp prickles.

Wood slides against chipped countertop.

“Eat these. You haven’t eaten.”

He seems to know a lot, right now. It makes you anxious.

And yet?

He tells you not a word of it.

It infuriates you.

This morning is odd enough, so you won’t stand for secrets. You force your head up and you’re unsurprised to find his gaze already locked upon your own.

“What happened?”

Your voice is firm, it sounds like more of a command than question and you’re certain he notes it. He studies you for a moment, and you don’t know why; but his eyes fan over your upturned lashes and the soft bridge of your nose. Down to your lips then back up to your eyes, again.

He takes his sweet, frustrating time to think his answer through. Just maybe though, your night was as rough as your morning has greeted you. Because he takes pity on you— he answers.

“You went out dancing. Made a big show at my club, drank all my good alcohol from every man willing to hand it to you, then you vanished without your things. Out my back door. Cindy came to me, and we went after you. There was a man out back. He was planning to— how did you put it? Fuck you, cariño… not me.”

You flush the color of persephone’s sweetest pomegranates— eyes wide as the images flash like some mortifying movie in your mind.

Oh my god.

“Oh my god…” you whisper in repetition of your horrified thoughts, pressing the coolness of your palms against the heat of your cheeks.

He hums again, but this time in agreement. It far from helps. You press two fingers against each temple, shaking your head as you search for suitable words.

“I don’t do this often or- at all, really. I just— I needed…”

“I know.” He cuts you off in the middle of your search for an end to your sentence, and it’s the first thing he’s done that you’re grateful for. Apart from the fridge full of food.

You remember now that you blew all your grocery money, so.

You feel ridiculous, mortified. He must think of you as some obsessed idiot who showed up at his club because you couldn’t be at his workplace.

God.

You can’t stand the thought.

Only you would chose there of all the clubs in New York.

You don’t even offer him any further explanation, you know well that it will be a mess you dig further and further. Deeper and deeper until you babble and stutter, you stay silent to avoid it.

You torture yourself in another way, reliving the night prior in quick flashes… piecing them together like a parted jigsaw. They weave in place swiftly, but there’s something missing…

You rack your brain, yet nothing comes of it in its crowded closet. You’re blank, baffled. You’re in a robe, a new robe and you’re topless underneath. Sitting across from Miguel O’Hara in your own pathetic kitchen.

Christ.

“You are a dancer.” He observes, making your head spin.

The conversation takes a left turn. Sharp, quick. Perhaps he’s not so used to seeing you this silent, perhaps he knows just the subject to get you talking again. It’s the most normal you both have ever talked, in fact.

“Was.” You correct in a shameful whisper, and you’re grateful when he doesn’t ask about it further. Your eyes drift to the framed photo he stares at behind you. It’s you, pretty as you are with one leg bent up to the heavens and the other firmly planted on tip toe into the ground. Your pale pink mesh cascaded from your hips and your golden locks were tamed into a perfected bun.

You adore that picture.

Yet as admirable as the memory is, it’s also sad. You don’t spare it another moment, your eyes fall to the surface below where it hangs. The Daily Bugle. It’s new, dewdrops of rain kissing the ink, bleeding some of it away. He must have gathered it for you.

Christ. He stayed here.

You wince at the thought, too plagued with headache to analyze his intentions— rushing forward to gather the fresh paper in your hands so you don’t have to worry about it any longer.

You’ll read the newspaper in silence or at least pretend to to avoid telling the three-headed Cerberus to leave and never return. He watches on at you, quiet and emotionless as you skim past the front page that speaks of sports nonsense. Further down, spending more time on the fashion column before reaching the golden page, the hot spot of Daily Bugle. Drama.

In all your years of consuming the horrid paper, you never leave this page unread. You feel slimey as you absorb, and yet it’s addictive. Miguel is still here, you remember. He must think even worse of you if it’s possible.

Just the girl who keeps reminding him of his dead daughter at every chance she gets. You wince, letting out a shaky breath as you smooth out the paper of the next page and finally see it.

In black and white proud, long curls cascading down a sequined number with heels higher than you’ve ever worn. Small, back flush against him. Your face is tilted to the side, captured blurred as it was in motion. Yet to you, it’s clear and recognizable. It’s a memory.

The puzzle piece, served up to you by the universe on a stupid, golden platter.

You’re on the front pages.

So is he.

You’re on the front pages, together.

CEO MIGUEL O’HARA ENJOYS A NIGHT OUT ON THE DANCE FLOOR WITH MYSTERIOUS PROCLAIMED “DANCING QUEEN”

You look— horrified, and he looks to be brushing his curled fingers against his tanned lips to stifle his amused grin. He can’t risk any other emotion than stoic, of course. Your eyes are wide as they snap up to him.

“You’re good publicity.” He offers.

His voice. It isn’t cold. It isn’t lifeless.

It’s as if something has laced itself within it. Something you don’t like.

Humor.

At the expense of you.

You’re angry. You’re confused and it makes you angry.

The puzzle is a painted picture now. The dance, the music, the heat, the grinding— god you’d just about melt if you weren’t so baffled and preoccupied right now.

You practically crush the paper in your hands. You look like a slutty girl taking her chance with the richest man readily available. How on earth will you ever work anywhere else again?

You’ll have to chop off your locks, you’ll have to—

He clears his throat as a weak attempt to conceal the amusement itching at his tongue.

You narrow your eyes at him.

“This is funny to you?”

This man. This mind fuck of a man has gone from towering over you with fury foaming at his mouth to forcing your hips to brush back against him to finding humor in your suffering in your own kitchen.

He narrows his eyes back,

“Very, cariño. Very funny to me.” His voice is dark, cold again.

You part your pink lips to curse him, but he interrupts the process before it even begins. He straightens his back, returning to the tower he is before rounding the counter till he’s right in front of you. You shrink again, your attitude melting as you remember the events of the week prior. His screaming, the ornament.

You shift, breath thinning as you turn your head away from him. He moves his head so his eyes may follow yours, when it doesn’t work— his jaw ticks.

“Mírame.”

You do, eyes snapping back to meet his gaze.

It’s soft, yet still commands your attention. You don’t have any other choice but to look on at him, you’ve noticed he has an odd thing for eye contact. You’d squirm, but your head is spinning.

No possibility to delay and procrastinate calling home now, it seems.

He sees your mind fogged with preoccupations, and you can’t keep like this any longer.

“What is going on, what are you doing?” You whisper, eyes darting to the paper then back to him. The question. It means far more than just now.

What is he doing?

Does he feel guilty? Is this how he’s apologizing?

You’re not sure, it’s impossible to know— to understand. Enigma doesn’t seem to be enough to describe him, nor does mystery.

He’s infuriating as he is simple, and maddening as he is tolerable. He’s back and he’s forth, up and he’s down and he’s killing you.

Why did he yell?

Why did he dance with you after it?

Why is he here now?

He sighs, his hands caging you up against the counter as he rests his palms on either side, grasping at the chipped marble and dipping his head to search for an answer.

It takes him a long moment, but when he’s satisfied? He lifts his head.

“I’m a good boss. A great one. I pay my girls generously, I would have done the same for you if you were capable of just following orders.”

You frown at that, he ignores it— continuing.

“You’re a shit employee.” He says it with conviction. As if his word is etched into stone at the birth of all life and creation. Your jaw nearly drops, but you allow tension to blossom like spring poppies within it instead.

“You’re an asshole.” You snap, gasping after the word leaves you. Your cheeks flush the color rose, and his expression remains cold and devoid as he tilts his head at you.

But his brows arch. Questioning.

You await for what seems like ages for him to respond, to snap, to scream— honestly you’re half expecting him to snatch the knife from the countertop and jab it into your gut to shut you up for good.

He does none of those things.

Warmth trails like caramel down a chasing tongue, rough and calloused palm sliding up the length of silken coverage from your knee and upward. Higher, higher. Your breath hitches in your throat, and his eyes burn furious holes into your face— your wide-eyed, pretty face.

The soft, small netting of nerves between your thighs jumps in excitement, and you’re certain your cheeks burn hotter than the sun. He reaches your hip, he halts— straightening his head. Almost unnoticed.

“I’m an asshole?”

A shiver overtakes you now, and you feel betrayal constrict you like that of a serpent as your pink nipples pucker themselves up for attention.

Don’t look, don’t look. You beg within the confines of your own mind.

The asshole…

His eyes flicker down immediately, as if he sensed your body calling to him.

It’s the first flash of emotion you’ve ever seen beyond anger. You can’t name it, you can’t understand it—you can’t even process it. You’re frozen here.

A noise, guttural— like that of a forest creature restraining itself from its natural instincts to slaughter a helpless lamb. It becomes him. From the very back of his throat.

You blink, tense, back straight and pushed firmly against the wall. His eyes find yours again and you’re certain then that you’ve bursted up in flames.

“You were saying?” He whispers, eyes wandering down. Past your puckered nipples and the bumps upon your skin. Down. Lower. To— there.

The action, it’s enough to shake you out of this trance. You push him back, he doesn’t protest the move and plays into it— you’re sure. You stumble from that suffocating wall and take a breath of air that feels awfully fresh even in your stuffy apartment.

His hand, where it once grazed you is a memorized motion replaying like a record shattered upon your leg.

He’s toying with you.

Getting his payment for his generosity, that must be it.

Or maybe he’s not. Maybe it was the dance…

Maybe— you don’t know which it is.

Now you’re angry.

Frustrated.

He’s put you through hell in the short amount of time he’s known you. Then suddenly, he does one good deed and takes it as a free ticket to fuck you?

You’re livid.

You turn on your heel, slamming your finger into the firmness of his chest.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

His hand, warm as fresh laundry wraps around your wrist. He tilts his head low like a charred olive branch extending, leveling with you.

“Testing my theory.”

It’s all he offers. You narrow your eyes to cold slits, electricity still buzzing between your thighs in opposition to your anger.

“What theory?” You sound exasperated, and you are.

The tick in his jaw is back. It jumps. He’s frustrated again.

How is it possible?

A man so stoic and cold, and yet so capable of flipping through emotions like an old scrapbook buried away from years past.

He breathes slowly through his nose, and when you nudge his chest again with your finger as hopes to provoke an answer? He moves. Quick.

In a flash moment, he walks you back against the countertop— caging you again.

He must like that.

Making you feel small.

He wastes no time once you are caged there, happy to be in control again.

“It seems like the only way I can stand you is when I respond with lust, and not logic… Dios mío…” he breathes the last part. It allows a chill to creep up the base of your spine, paralyzing you.

Silence blankets you both again and he bows his head once more. You breathe, shakily but nonetheless.

Lust?

For you?

Hair unruly and unkept, frizzed and wild. Too loud for your liking and too sharp of a tongue for his.

Maybe he’s truly lost it.

Maybe it’s been there all along.

Although the thought excites you, you know it’s silly. Men of his status and power— they don’t busy themselves with pretty things like you. It’s impossible. It’s a movie, a picture made for fantasy.

But here he his.

Toying with you.

You’re certain now.

It clicks then, his game with you. Revenge sweetly. Play pretend, get you to fall but not catch you when you do. It’s cruel. It’s like him.

You’ve been at the harsh hand of a man vengeful before. You won’t do it again.

Tears sting at your eyes.

“Don’t do this to me again.” You mean it to sound like a demand, yet it floats from your petal pink lips like a weak and pathetic sound. You speak to him, and you speak to the man before him. In your eyes, now, they’re the same. All your interactions before this were so inhuman and cold, and yet here you are— feeling all the colors of the damned sky before him. Interacting like humans do. Only, he’s got a motive behind his emotion. Not you. Never you.

He hears the weakness, the falter. His head snaps up again.

You avert your eyes, playing a balance game with the swelled tears threatening to parachute onto your cheeks. He straightens his back at the sight of them, he gives you space. You relax.

His eyes, they find a map upon your face and they wander amongst it. Observing, analyzing. When he’s satisfied, after you’ve swiped away at your tears, he speaks again.

“I have a job for you.”

You’re certain he’s lost it now.

Completely thrown himself off the deep end and into the insane asylum. How can he lust you and loathe you and employ you all at the same time? All within the same hour?

You need to rest, you’re exhausted.

“No.” It’s all you offer, turning your back on him. Hoping he will take it and leave you be. Silly you. A firm palm spins you back around, right back to where you were.

“Listen to me.”

It’s not a question, it’s a command; and as much as you hate him and his arrogance… you comply.

“Fuck… there’s more to you. Something that I can find behind my frustrations with you. A hunger… Last night was an annoyance, an amusing one no less. I just can’t get rid of you no matter how hard I try… but I think sometimes that this game we’re all playing is at someone’s hand. I need morale, you’ve made the front covers now. Jameson can eat shit for all I care but for the sake of my girls— I need to fix the mess I’m in…”

He muses the last part to himself, and baffled as you are at the events that have taken place in one morning alone… you straighten your back and cross your arms over your chest. Curious. Listening.

“I’ve been here all morning because I have been thinking close to the source. Thinking about what it is about you that is so fucking infuriating. I didn’t find an answer. But what I did find was a solution. After— fuck… after Gabi…”

Oh…

Oh.

He’s talking about her, and not because of your snappy mouth.

Like a fresh petal, you unfurl.

“Jameson. He wants to slander me. He wants my girls to read his bullshit and believe it and as much as I hate to admit it, the cabrón could manage it. And fucking morale… it can’t function when my morale girl is only working hard at pissing me off.”

It’s an insult, but you’re far too glued on the edge of your seat to interrupt his train of thought. You scowl softly and let him continue,

“I don’t want you in my office, I don’t want you talking about things you don’t get to talk about. I don’t want you to anger me with your stupidity because I don’t want to yell at you like that again. I won’t. But I am glad your idiocy brought us here last night, because I can see how much of a shithole you’re in.”

You flush again at that, nervous eyes glancing around your dainty apartment and its rotted walls.

“I’m in one too, in a different way. The tabloid is a good thing. When you were dancing, I tolerated you. I enjoyed you, even. And your presence made for a good paper with a headline not involving my baby girl. I— need that. I need these people to stay distracted and fuck, sweetheart. Soy la respuesta...”

Cruel as he is, you find your heart constrict— just for a small moment. You can’t imagine it. Losing your life, your whole sun, moon and stars and being constantly reminded of it on every newsstand and broadcast because of some awfully obsessed vampire.

So much so that it leaks into your glass tower in the sky and makes it crack, each new story another stone thrown until it cracks under the pressure.

But you… you stopped it.

Just once, at least.

Even so….

It amazes you.

Makes you feel powerful.

He is watching you close, gauging your reactions. You challenge his eyes, imploring him to continue. He does.

“I want you to play pretend with me, just like you did last night. Dos desconocidos bailando por primera vez, like two strangers dancing on the floor. I wanna feed them the shit they want to be fed and keep their mouths shut and satisfied. Only for a few months until I find a way to buy out the Bugle and bankrupt the hijo de puta… We can help each other. You’ll live in my suite and do whatever the hell you want all day. You’ll get a monthly allowance on top of your big check. You’ll help me keep them quiet.”

He speaks slow. Calculated and measured. In a way one would immediately understand. But somehow, you don’t.

You don’t get it.

Beyond the words for what they are, you’re baffled.

He wants you to play pretend, and it all seems perfect and fine except?

“You hate me…” it’s meant for yourself, truly. Yet it parts from your lips nonetheless. Your brows are furrowed and soft as you search the space beside him for an invisible answer with your eyes.

He sighs.

“No. I don’t. I don’t like you, but I don’t hate you. How could I when you move the way you do? So pretty under my lights, I like her a lot. Maybe we have to get you drunk more often, hmm?”

He means it to lighten the tension, to slice it with silver blade and yet all it does s quiet you further. He sees this, and a warmth floating within his very fingertips meets your chin. He turns you to him again.

“Dime que sí, cariño. Tell me yes. Stop letting yourself think about it.”

You have a million loose and frayed ends that you cannot seem to knit together on your own. You’re certain he won’t offer you any assistance either.

There’s a plague in the air, a sickness. One that causes nothing short of pure insanity. Why? Well because of what you see now.

Money.

No more debt.

Food plentiful.

A door that actually locks. A heater that will keep you warm on harsh winter nights.

No going home.

Another chance… another opportunity to dance again.

Only for a little while will you have to bare him. Only for a little while and then all your troubles get tossed upon the burning pile. You could start again. You could fix what you ruined. You could be her, again.

Your eyes wander to the gold trimmed frame with a girl that seems so unrecognizable and unreachable now.

But what if he— this cruel and baffling creature with all the money, power and influence in all of New York City and maybe beyond could help you reach her.

All you have to do is play pretend..

That’s it, right?

You gulp.

And Christ…

You whisper it like it’s a gruesome sin on the tip of your tongue. Like it poisonous and repulsive. Sealing the deal with the devil himself before it is too late to think it over again…

“Yes…”

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @bimb00000 @tabalittlelong @iitangerine @queenb27sblog-blog @dprmooni @neptunieesworld @cyd2301 @amelialysm @justanothers-things @heartfeltlonging @coralreefses @knightowl019 @justanothers-things

123 notes · View notes

ahndor · 11 months

Text

spiderverse thoughts under the cut cause. holy fuck. spoilers abviously

• one of the best movies i have ever seen. legitimately. having a hard time forming coherent thoughts about it right now

• shameik moore’s voice acting is phenomenal. out of this world. you can feel every ounce of miles’s emotions through his performance

• SO MANY REFERENCES!!! off the top of my head: andrew garfield’s spiderman, toby maguire’s spiderman, donald glover as the prowler, ps4 spiderman, animated tasm spiderman, PS2 SPIDERMAN!!!!!

• about the love triangle. it wasnt as big of a thing as everyone was afraid it was gonna be (thank god) and it seemed like hobie had no interest in gwen at all really?? (in fact he seemed more interested in miles but i DIGRESS—) like he really just seemed like a friend to her but because miles is 15 and like. in love he overthinks things. small win for the love triangle hater community (me)

• on that note. hobie. fucking. brown. the way he’s animated was nuts, he was so unique yet he fit right in with the rest of the cast. his characterization, the anarchism, his lil quips, him and mayday?? and the way he helped miles go against miguel and eventually helped gwen too?? i cannot WAIT to see him in beyond the spiderverse

• PENI IS BACK!!!! AND SHE GOT A NEW BOT!!!!

• miles being the original anomaly omg. it makes so much sense but i NEVER would have guessed that’s part of why everyone hates him (also i KNEW the hunt for miles would have something to do with jefferson’s death. i have receipts that i predicted that MONTHS AGO!!!!)

• they knew what they were doing when they designed miguel ohhhhhmygod. also i hope we get to see more of his vampire qualities in beyond the spiderverse

• THE BEYOND THE SPIDERVERSE SQUAD IS SO SICK. gwen, peter b (and mayday), pavitr, hobie, spider-byte, spider-noir, spider-ham, and peni!!!!! THE COOLEST SPIDER PEOPLE

• literally cant wait for beyond the spiderverse. it might kill me to wait for beyond the spiderverse

#across the spider verse spoilers #atsv spoilers #across the spiderverse #im. guys please go watch this movie #its a fucking masterclass in unique animation #every single voice actor knocked it out of the park #the story is moving and tragic and beautiful #ugh. ohmygod #mars speaks

162 notes · View notes

raveneyeart · 7 months

Text

I can’t get over how incredibly pretty she is, when I was watching the extended cut of Into the Spiderverse yesterday and I saw the cut scene where she jumps into the collider and I seriously wonder if we are gonna see her in Beyond the Spiderverse. She’s referenced in the scene where Miles is returning back to his “home” and I seriously wonder what her role would be in Beyond the Spiderverse. Literally cannot wait

#olivia octavius #doc ock #spiderverse #into the spider verse #she can’t be dead #I would cry if she was dead #maybe not cry #I would be very sad if she was dead

64 notes · View notes

sora-art-513 · 10 months

Text

Finally finished the drawing Miguel O’Hara🥳 and his Spider force Scarlet spider(Ben Riley) and Spider Woman!(Jessica Drew), I thought of including the Lego Spider-Man as well for this Drawing lol, Sorry if This took a so long I Tried My Best to Draw Miguel in My Style and Also Drawn Jess’s Bike(it’s been a while Since I drawn a vehicle before😅 ), After Watching This Movie and When they introduced Spider Man 2099 and the Rest of the Spider Society started Loving this Man and The Characters so much!💙♥️ (But I’m Still on Miles Side!) Cannot wait to see him and The Rest of the Spider force do in “The Beyond the Spiderverse” let me know on which Spidey should I draw next?👀 Hope you Guys like My Drawing✍🏻🙌🏼✨

129 notes · View notes

obscurest-reference · 10 months

Text

On Hobie Brown, Spider-Punk

Hey! It's me, your friendly southern y'allternative punk that is sweltering in the Texas heat. I've got a lot of thoughts on Hobie Brown so here's a brief rundown of it:

Just like most people born after 9/11, I am constantly continuing my research and immersion in a subculture that was born ~25 years before me, so my comments will not have the tone of an old veteran punk, rather that of a kid determined to not let this culture die. And let me say, Spider-Punk will not let punk subculture die.

Hobie Brown is incredible in terms of accurate representation in the modern day. He is an anarchist, he never fully faced Miguel while 2099 was monologuing to Miles, which seemed to represent Hobie's opposition to Miguel's authority. He stole gadgets, too: he was determined to not support Miguel, and to show that he didn't support Miguel. And the DIY bracelet he made? Wonderful! Chef's kiss!

(Side note-- that really does show how brilliant Hobie's mind actually is if he made that bracelet all by himself.)

There is a caveat to all this, though. Yes, Hobie made his political views clear with his one-liners: "It's a metaphor for capitalism", "Taking a crap on the establishment, I salute you", etc. The issue is, coming from a big company like Sony, all of his comments were still in a less-than-serious tone. They weren't outright making fun of him, but those lines did seem to be used for comedic effect to some degree.

But what can you expect? Often, we're taken as a joke, seen as delinquents. Though I am grateful for the portrayal of Hobie Brown/Spider-Punk, I can't say I'm not disappointed when I realized the tone of his comments.

But! All this aside! I've been seeing real punks literally stealing his merch from Hot Topic (can't believe they didn't see this coming), Walmart, places like that. And I think it's great.

Lastly, pirating Spider-Punk's comics is cool and all, and everyone saying "it's what Hobie would want" aren't necessarily wrong, but hear me out: buy it from your local comic store (this does not include Barnes and Noble). If they don't have it, usually they can order it for you. That way, you're supporting small businesses AND the comic writers/artists, plus, Marvel Comics will see that it's selling and make more issues.

I believe that's everything. I cannot WAIT to see his world in Beyond the Spiderverse. And don't forget, NO WRITING! Support the WGA strike! It's what Hobie would want

#hobie brown #spider-punk #spider punk #spiderman #spider-man #spider man #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv

45 notes · View notes

lildoodlenoodle · 11 months

Text

Why I think Spider noir is on the younger side(18-20) in the new spiderverse movie per my previous post:

Let’s break it down by Context, Timeline, Mood, and ATSV

Context:

Spider noir has two comic runs that happen before COMICS spiderverse. With that said, there were like inter dimensional energy vampires and that’s obviously not the direction the spiderverse movies went with. So we’re going to largely disregard them for this. To expand, there was a big time jump between that last noir comic and the spiderverse ones. Peter would be closer to mid/late 20s at the start of the comics spiderverse and therefore ITSV if we were to integrate and replace the timelines, BUT I always hated the way they did that time jump in the comics and what it did to Peter’s character.

It felt like they were trying to tie him into 616 Peter wayyyy too much by making his love interest MJ(who we rlly haven’t seen and what we have seen hasn’t had good chemistry), have a good relationship with May(they rlly brushed him shooting someone in front of her and calling him an animal under the rug Huh), and going to college(I get it I do, but unlike most universes I don’t think this Peter could ever stop spiderman enough). There wasn't really any mention of Felicia, Urich, or Robby and their past. They also changed his webbing, his look, and his spider senses.

I felt like that was completely getting rid of all of Peter's characterization and he just becomes the spider with a gun from the 1930s. But the point is they clearly went in a very different artistic and narrative direction after the time jump to a point where it doesn’t feel like the same character.

Refitting the timeline:

So, scrapping the comics spiderverse timeline, I don’t really see a reason for a disjointed time jump. And after those first two comic runs it can be argued, for this Peter, that ITSV happens much sooner for him after that second run, possibly even after the first comic. Then ATSV would happen after that second run. There is an 8mo. time jump between the two runs so it is definitely feasible.

But let’s talk about mood between the runs.

We all know at least somewhat this Peter's origin, and if you don’t, to sum it up: organized crime, monsters, socialism, cannibalism.

The first run ends, Peter beats the goblin without killing him and he’s feeling pretty good about himself/confident. But he’s still got a lot of well deserved angst and self hatred. His uncle is dead, his new mentor/father figure is dead, his relationship with May is on the rocks to say the least, and there’s the whole Felicia thing. He’s still a high schooler and in that teen range, but a big ass lanky teenager who's only solid looking because of the gear he wears. I’d place him around 16-18, a case could be made for 15 but I’m going to politely disagree. ITSV could very easily be fairly soon after these events.

It’s 8 months after the first run. He becomes cocky and overconfident this whole next issue, possibly because of an interdimensionally inflated ego? Point is he feels on top of his game. Also worth mentioning, he’s ignoring MJ this whole issue to the point the audience knows basically nothing about her while he is having a very intense relationship with Felicia(which we already know how I feel about that whole mess) and who MJ is very blatantly and very badly a foil to.(I love MJ she is just not well written here).

The second run ends, his best friend/possible love interest(I said what I said), Robbie, is dead and unavenged.(I can talk a lot more about Robbie and what effect he had and will have on Peter going forward, also the disservice of his ‘death’) Felicia is disfigured and blames Peter. Peter not only blames himself for all this but the comic ends with him saying he feels powerless and a constant sense of impending doom. He really did not get a single win during this comic, man got the shit beaten out of him too. The age at the end of this comic is 17-19. After the last comic dude was messed up but still had hope, after this one we don’t see the fall out, but I can assure it was BAD. That whole ‘you don’t have to kill the bad guy thing’ is probably out the fucking window. I’m more hesitant to think ITSV happened after this run because of that. He isn’t just depressed or self loathing anymore, he isn’t just playing fast and loose with his life to get results. He does not care, he has no hope, and he doesn’t see a good future.

Pre - ATSV predictions with mild spoilers:

With the year and a couple of months time jump for ATSV it’s very plausible that the events of that last run plus possible spider task force shenanigans could happen before the movie. For more context in the comics spider noir was a recurring spider in the ‘elite strike force’. Personally, if he was invited, I could very much see him accepting, especially with his current mental state, and being very aggressive about it. Which, theoretically, could cause him to get kicked off or make a rash decision to leave bc fuck those guys. But the point is at the end of that last comic this man really doesn’t have a single win, he is in a prime state to be manipulated in.

Edit: my dumbass forgot literally the most important detail. The year 1933 is when ITSV noir comes from which matches this timeline with the comics as well.

To sum everything up, the reason why I think spider noirs age is in the 18/20 range is because it fits the above timeline, which I believe to be the most probable timeline of events that are canon by the movies while also staying consistent with at least some of the original comics. It should be further noted there is no evidence of his age throughout the ITSV movie, besides him being played by Nicholas Cage and being tall. In fact, I’d argue due to his excessive use of slang it would naturally place him in a younger category as well as the classic melodramaticness that can come with being a coping teenager. The most important thing that makes his age and at what point in his storyline he’s in up to interpretation is the fact that we see his face once and it’s heavily shadowed. If we saw his face more I’d feel better about giving him a more solid age, but till then context clues for the win. But anyways, this was long and I still have more I could get into/say and I will eventually. Feel free to ask any questions or even tell me why you disagree!

245 notes · View notes

makotoismyson · 11 months

Text

I cannot WAIT for all the fanart of Miles-42/Prowler!Miles I know we only got the reveal in the last fifteen minutes and we’ll see more of him in Beyond The Spiderverse but I LOVE the concept of him and his design

#across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman across the spiderverse spoilers #atsv #miles morales #sorry but I completely lose it everytime the protagonist has an evil persona or temporarily turns evil #it’s the Trope TM ever and I love running the concept into the ground /pos

23 notes · View notes

idiot-mushroom · 11 months

Note

dude, j just watched across the spiderverse earlier today omg i cannot wait fir the next one hobie is my favorite boy i know in my fucking soul he would get alongg great with like any version of raph, god this movie snd its themes though and like god im insane bout these spider people

bro ik??? UGH I FUCKING LOVE HOBIE and teh visuals were fuckingn INSANE like the shift in just artyles and backgrounds and how they displayed different moods in differing universes were fucking amazing and i loved everything abt it

and hobie is so chaotic and free it’s so hard to draw him until you realize you can do whatever tf u wang with his design bc he shifts so drastically in the movie (in style and overall character design) and i am LIVING for it

my only critique was that spiderman beyond wasn’t crammed in there too for a 12 hour movie and i’m not lying

overall what i just wrote does not even scratch the amount of sheer happiness i got from that movie. i don’t usually stim but damn my hands were shaking and flapping so much during that movie i’m not going to lie to you it is the best movie i have ever seen in my entire lifetime.

#spiderman spoilers #shroom spoilers #movie spoilers #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse spoilers #<— just in case #shroom talks #ask reply #love my moots

21 notes · View notes

primaviva · 8 months

Note

wait so do you not want miles and gwen tg? im confused can you like specify because i like them together 😖

i want them to be together and i think they can be cute cus i like the dynamic but when i think about it they don’t really know each other yet but still fixated on each other for a whole year it just seems unhealthy and unrealistic and i blame the writing because yes it does make an interesting plot but likeee it’s a little weird knowing they didn’t spend a long time together and are just fascinated with the idea of each other. it was very cute it istv because having a crush is very natural especially since their deep connection where he was the first friend she made since pete and she was there for him when his life literally changed in a matter of days but for them to be endgame?? i don’t think it would be the best in terms of writing and just character building because they be so enraptured with each other that their stories are really intertwined when they deserve to have their own spotlights. i would love to see them kiss but that’s it….just a cute goodbye because for writing sake and plot sake it makes the most sense.

also i feel like beyond the spiderverse is gonna be them realizing they cannot be fw the multiverse because the whole reason there’s anomalies is because they staying in others dimensions way too long and they start morphing and allat i don’t know that’s just mcu logic and they already confirmed that spiderverse is canon to the mcu so……

i like miles x gwen It’s cute just like how i like spiderbyte and other ships but like it would be unrealistic and just fan service if it happened fr…..im just tryna see a storyline of acceptance and moving on between them and everyone else like w Peter and miles because they influenced each others lives too but they really shouldn’t play w dimensions just for the sake of seeing each other

#🪽— angel’s spam

7 notes · View notes

thr33-racoons-in-a-trenchcoat · 11 months

Text

I just got back from finally going to see across the spiderverse and I just omg I can't put into words how much I loved it. Like when i say left the cinema literally shaking with joy and excitement I'm not exaggerating.

I could make a long post about my whole thoughts on it but I wont all I'll say is everything was just amazing:

the characters, the writing, the direction, the storyline and THE ANIMATION oh my god the animation it was so gorgeous I couldn't take my eyes off the screen for a second it was all so perfect

I seriously cannot wait for beyond the spiderverse

oh and Hobie was my fav (obviously)

#expect a lot of spam about this film in the foreseeable future #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse

9 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs