"This Isn’t Just Another Spider-Man Story… This is BROOKLYN. This is EARTH-1610." 🕷️🌌
Before Peter Parker… before multiversal chaos… there was Miles Morales, swinging through graffiti-colored skylines, rewriting what it means to wear the mask. 🕸️
Every frame of Across the Spider-Verse isn’t just animation—it’s ART in motion.
But Earth-1610? That’s where the glitch started… and where legends are born.
Ready to dive back into the dopest dimension in the multiverse?
👇 You have to see this insane tribute. Click here:
🔗 https://urlhub.pro/7a558f
Peter and Flash get into an argument, Flash finally admits what he does isn't "glam"
Peter: True, you'll never be glam Flash.
Flash: Just because you got Osborn as a sugar daddy who pays everything for you!
Ned and Michelle: *collectively* AHOOOOOO, OH MY GAWD!!!
Peter: *internally thinking* where did this bitch hear Harry Osborn is my sugar daddy?
Peter: Time out, hold up. Hold up, sweetheart. Let's get it together before you wanna read EUGENE.
Peter: I don't have a sugar daddy, sweetheart. Everything that I've had, I've worked for, and I worked for to get and I've built myself. So you need to know that 100%. I don't have a sugar daddy, I've never had a sugar daddy. If I wanted a sugar daddy, yes, I probably can go out and get one, because I AM WHAT? SICKENING. You could never have a sugar daddy because you are NOT THAT KIND OF GIRL. Baby, everything I've had I worked for, and I've gotten myself. I built myself from the ground up, FUCKING BITCH! *throws drink in Flash's face*
Eight kilometers beyond the edge of Tønsberg (New Asgard), Norway, a folding glass door abruptly appeared in midair, approximately 2 meters off the ground. The sudden manifestation would have been either frightening or cartoonish to observers, had there been any. But there were none… which was exactly how Dr. Stephen Strange preferred it.
The sorcerer opened the doors from within the New York Sanctum, and the Cloak of Levitation carried him through and down to the sprawling green landscape. He waved a dismissive gesture at the door with one hand; it closed and vanished from view. If a door appears in midair and nobody’s there to see it, was it ever really there?
Several fallacies in that philosophical inquest, of course, but it gave him a brief moment of amusement before he cast his eyes, almost reluctantly, to the north.
A gleaming construct of golden light met his gaze there. Translucent, perfectly rounded, and crackling with a series of alien runes embedded all along its curvature. One could be forgiven for thinking the runes looked vaguely Nordic in design; these, however, were far more intricate, and were not merely letters in enormous typeface. They were symbols of strength and instruction.
The Asgardian equivalent of a giant “No Trespassing” sign, he thought. Complete with “Beware of Dog” subtext. Well, this is going to be awkward.
He had been careful to avoid the roadways leading towards the fishing village. By now, they were rife with U.N. vehicles and national news crew vans, certainly a level of attention he didn’t need, and the Asgardians couldn’t possibly want. Magic was an open secret in the world by now, but it wouldn’t do to have cameras pointing at him while he went about his business.
Stephen approached the barrier on foot and came to within arm’s reach of it, carefully analyzing its construction and energy pattern all the while. Minutes passed in his silent examination as he crossed his arms and tapped one finger against his lips, lost deeply in thought. Finally, he raised both arms together toward the barrier, then spread them wide. A dimensional mandala began to manifest between his hands, creating intricate geometric patterns of orange energy ribbons. He thrust both hands forward, and the mandala pressed against the golden barrier before him.
The mandala pulsed brightly, three times in slow succession. With each pulse came an achingly loud thumping sound, and the barrier rippled, as if it had been a perfectly still surface of water and Stephen had thrown stones into it. The rippling waves warped and shimmered across the barrier, beyond his field of view in both directions.
He dropped his hands, satisfied with the product of his labor, and his mandala dissipated.
It’ll definitely get her attention, at least, he thought. The nature of the spell meant it would not register as a weapon or even a threat – he’d made certain of that. But it was a knock at the door… an unspoken request for entry.
Hello! I have a question for the doctor :D (may have more later, but just one right now) Whatever you can tell us without spoiling would be appreciated. I'm curious as to how the Infinity War ended in the non-bdsm verse, and what situation that verse's Tony is going to be coming out of. #askstrange
Ah yes. Glad someone is remotely concerned about the fate of the universe. Now, I can’t say much on this topic directly, but I can show you something brief.
“He knew who I was.” It was the first time anyone had broken the silence in hours, and it was a mark of how distressingly used to this new world order Steve had gotten that he was surprised it was Tony. The man didn’t say much these days; oh he worked, just as obsessively as he had when he’d survived down in the workshop for days on a steady stream of energy bars and caffeine. The joy of discovery and creation that had once driven Tony to babble incessantly for minutes or even hours on end, though? That was long gone. Turned to dust, like everything else. “Thanos.”
“So fucking what, Stark. Did he ask for an autograph or something too? You want a congratulations because the Big Bad gave you a personal shout-out?” Clint snapped. He was staring at the pictures of his wife and kids again, Steve knew it without even bothering to look up. That was all Clint did these days, when he wasn’t barking at each of them in turn for not yet having a fully-developed plan to reverse the Snap and its after-effects.
It would have been easy to fall into the same trap as Clint, blinded by anger and grief, and dismiss this as another self-important and largely irrelevant interjection from Tony. But if Steve had learned anything from this whole mess—Ultron, the Accords, Thanos—it was that Tony was almost always coming from someplace good, right, even when his execution ended up terribly flawed. (And those issues with execution were in no small part Steve’s fault; Steve and the rest of the team, who hadn’t ended up as much of team at all to Tony, in the end.)
“When we fought, he didn’t recognize me until about halfway through. When he did, he said my name. Like—like we had a history, like he…knew me. Said I wasn’t the only one ‘cursed with knowledge.”
“If this is another ‘I was right’ speech—”
“Clint, shut up.” The harsh words weren’t surprising, there were plenty of those to go around these days. But the fact that it was Natasha barking them while jumping off the piece of wrecked lab-bench she had been sitting on to get right in Barton’s face, that was shocking to pretty much everyone, particularly Clint himself. Tony graced her with a nod and even a small quirk of his lips. (Even in the midst of all of this, Steve spared a heartbeat or two to acknowledge that he was achingly jealous of Nat for that exchange.)
“I think we need to go back further than we thought.”
“What’s it like to be back in the Fate Initiative? What did you do in your absence?”
“A lot of thinking. A bit of... netflix. It is good to be back, doing work that matters.” The comment, added with a little smile, drew a murmured laugh from the crowd. The Chevlaier remained sitting behind his podium, mask on, as he faced down the cameras... again.
He was getting used to it still.
“What is it like, working for the same people who tried to remove you?”
“They had the best interests of the organization in mind. I admit my irresponsibility, and was ready to face consequences for it. Though there is no correlation between my actions and that of the Devil of New York.”
“Are you planning on taking him in, now that he’s escaped?”
“...Yes,” the Chevalier answered curtly. “We are actively searching. We believe he’s fled the country.”
“How’s your relationship with Firestorm going?”
Now that had his face turning down, his smile turning abashed. He was happy to answer the harmless questions, as these interviews had tended to go lately. “Business first. She is doing her best to help improve this world, and I am very happy for her. We are doing well.”
“Buzzfeed has pictures up of you two out on a date in--”
“Murderer-!!”
The screaming voice cut across the antechamber, resonating from one of the side doors. There was a woman, an older woman, with tattered grey hair and a long coat. “That man is a murderer,” she screamed, a finger outstretched towards Russo, her voice thick with a German accent. The Chevalier sat still, rigid, his jaw dropped in a moment of shock.
“You’re a monster! You killed my father and my uncle, cut their heads off like they were cattle-!! Because they tried to fight you back, monster! They tried to stop you from destroying their town, you and your subjects, you and your vampires-!”
“I--”
It was all the Chevalier could get out, he was so stunned. It seemed any guards were stunned too, at least for the moment. But they gradually started to shuffle in past the seated crowds of journalists, past the flashing cameras to capture the moment.
Maybe it was the fumbling of her other hand in her coat that drew their attention. “Everyone else may forget who you are, but I don’t! I never will! They call you a hero, you committed atrocities against mankind, monster! Vampire! Murderer!!”
Maybe Russo should’ve been more aware of that hand in her coat, but he was transfixed by her words.
The next sound was a crash of a large bottle into the table in front of him, glass shattering and hot liquid spilling like a grenade. If the Chevalier had been paying more attention to himself, perhaps he would’ve used his resilience. As it was, all he could think about was her words.
Her very, very unfortunately correct words.
The Chevalier hunched under the table as another bottle crashed into the wall behind him, more glass shrapnel tearing into his back. He could hear the security guards start to struggle with her while she screamed.
I know that Jessica Jones and Luke Cage get married and have a baby in the comics. I wonder if they're do that in the show. It would be pretty neat.
yeah i was pretty sure that’s what their plotline in jj was building towards, and from what little defenders comics i’ve read i like their relationship a lot, but honestly right now in the netflix-mcu i like luke and claire together because claire deserves someone who’s not gonna jerk her around and jessica kiiinda stepped in it with the way she treated luke during jj, so she’s gotta make amends for that. i also feel like jessica staying single with trish and malcom as a support system as she works towards recovering from what she went through with kilgrave is probably the best thing for her right now? and also i want her and trish to be girlfriends but we all know that’s never gonna happen, so. i’m pretty sure jessica/luke will be endgame eventually, but it might not be for a few seasons [of each show, since they’re all getting their individual arcs now]
