One of the darkest aspects of atsv is how Gwen was groomed. When Jess and Miguel took her in, I got "vibes," so to speak. The trailers obviously didn't help, but those painted Miguel in a bad light, unlike Jess.
Gwen, a 15-16 year old, goes with these two in the heat of a tense moment. I don't think anyone had ill intentions, but that doesn't negate the results.
I was shocked when we learned that Gwen hadn't gone home in months. Jess and Miguel become her whole world and take on the roles of her parental figures. In this time, she has become emotionally dependent on them and their approval. Gwen is scared to disappoint them. She's threatened with being returned to her dimension with no support, a place where last anyone saw, her father was trying to arrest her for murder.
Jess uses Gwen's admiration and dependence to manipulate her. She knows Gwen fears letting her down. She goes from being smiley and supportive to blunt and cold.
Gwen is scared. Whether they intended to or not, Miguel and Jess essentially groomed and emotionally abused her. The second she justifiably makes a mistake or just acts like a normal teen who lacks interpersonal relationships, they send her home.
At any point did they try to help Gwen reconcile with her dad? What did they tell her so she'd be fine with her father dying?
I know the dictionary definition is more of a nsfw nature, but I do believe it can occur in just a manipulative manner. They took in a vulnerable child, manipulated her, and threw her out.
Her whole arc reads like a kid disowned for coming out.
Note: I'm a black woman. It's not my job to make you guys feel comfortable with a clearly uncomfortable topic. Complain to the studio who wrote the film. I no longer argue with people who assume the worst of my posts or misinterpret what I painstakingly try to clarify. I don't care. It's my post, and I shall delete and block whoever I want. I'm not the government.
Like it or not, Jess and Miguel, grown adults, take a child with them. They are responsible for her. That is how that works. POC aren't free from criticism. POC can be evil to white women. This is a fictional movie, bitch to the studio who made them the obvious bad guys.
Thank you 😊
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Hello! I hope you're having a lovely day/night, and I was hoping to put in a request if you don't mind!
So, what if Hobie and reader are exploring an abandoned building/apartment? Like, it's all fun, and it's relatively well-lit, but there are some dark places. Eventually, they find the stairs of the building and start climbing up, all while exploring a few rooms on the way up, seeing what people wrote on the walls and all.
Soon, they get up to the building and reader has their back turned to Hobie, who manages to slip half of a matching jewelry or something he managed to get, whether it be stolen or bought from a small business is up to you!:)
Of course, you are able to change some stuff to your liking!
Thank you for requesting!!! 😘❤️❤️❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.7k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, cw violence mention, FLUFF
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“Seventh date and you finally decided to murder me.” You say as you stand apprehensively in front of an abandoned building. Its concrete walls are crumbling, the old facade full of colorful graffiti. The crickets chirp behind it, the thicket providing the extra creep factor that makes your skin crawl.
“Nah, I've decided that would be for our anniversary.” Hobie takes his helmet off while you simmer from his comment.
He wants to continue to more than seven dates, he wants to stay with you and have an actual anniversary. You can't believe how you got so lucky. And he thinks the same for him, he can't fathom why you stayed this long, especially now that he has brought you to an abandoned dilapidated property. He can't believe you're not running away and screaming bloody murder, you must really fancy him.
Cheeks warm, arms crossed to fight the biting cold, and the moonlight shining directly down on you like you were chosen by the goddess herself, Hobie can't help but sigh in wonderment.
“You're staring. Again.” You hide your sudden shyness with your scarf. “You're definitely gonna kill me, obsession is a trait most killers have you know.”
He chuckles, boots slowly inching closer to you, “what else do they have?” He taunts, a playful smile on his lips.
Christ it's getting harder and harder for you to not kiss him. You really want to, ever since he gave you your own helmet on your fourth date, with him saying that it's an investment for future dates so you don't have to keep borrowing his own. You swear you've never wanted to kiss someone this much in your entire life.
You pretend to think, “they're incredibly charming.” He gives you his best smile whilst slowly coming closer. “They have a knack for making people trust them, and in turn making them vulnerable.”
Hobie stands toe to toe with you, feigning intimidation. You again resist the urge to kiss him. “Do I make you feel vulnerable, love?”
You wave your bashfulness away, tugging him by the lapels of his leather jacket, you pull him closer. “No, that's for our twelfth date.”
He breaks the bit you two have going on, laughing, he holds your face in his cool hands, squeezing your equally cool cheeks. “Lookin' forward to it.”
You mirror his smile, “yeah, I'll be super vulnerable that day, so you better reschedule my murder on that day instead.” Cheeks still squished, your comment was a garbled mess. Good thing he speaks fluent Y/N.
“I'll keep that in mind,” Hobie leans close, lips dangerously close to yours, “you're right about one thing though,” his breath fans against your lips, and the anticipation is killing you. “I'm bloody charmin’” Abruptly leaning away, he leaves you standing on the pavement dazed and confused.
His laugh wakes you up, turning around, you see his satisfied smile and his twinkling eyes. He beckons you over, the metal of his jacket clinking from his movement. “You comin'? Or you're still frozen from my charm?”
You put your hands on your hips, exasperated but happy and smitten. “I change my mind, I think I should be the one who gets to murder you.”
Hobie guffaws, his loud laugh echoing around the vast and empty space. “If you can catch me!” He sprints off, entering the building, leaving you alone. In the dark. Where there might be creatures lurking.
“That little shit.” Something rustles in the bushes, and you make a run for it. “You little shit!” You scream after him. “Get back here!”
Your footsteps echo in the darkness, with only the moonlight peeking through the cracks in the concrete as your guide, you huff in place. The musty and earthy smell of the building jumps at you. There's water dripping from somewhere, and there's old broken furniture littered around the place. You deduce it was a mansion before it was abandoned, just based on the fact that there's a huge chandelier on the floor.
“Keep this up, Hobie, and there won't be an eighth date!” Voice carried off by the wind, a light hits the side of your face.
“Don't even joke about that, love. That's fuckin’ scary.” Hobie finally shows himself, torch in hand, and a deep frown on his previously smiling lips.
“Scarier than this place?”
“Yes, how are you gonna kill me on our anniversary if we can't even have an eighth date?” He hands you a spare torch, hands brushing along yours. The pads of his fingers linger for a second more. “‘m sorry for leavin’ you, I won't do it again. I promise this place is safe, yeah? And it'll be worth it.”
You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, “please tell me you're not planning on snogging me here.”
Hobie makes an offended face, scoffing, “nah, our first kiss here? Get off it, I'll kiss you like a proper gentleman, with roses littered on the floor and romantic music playing.” You snicker, and he does the same. Eyes full of endearment for you, he continues. “I’ll even add a home cooked meal into the mix.”
You relent, looping your arms over his neck, you can't help but smooch his cheek. “I'll take the home cooked meal.”
He embraces your middle, “I hope you like pesto, and the most delicious cheesecake you'll ever have in your entire life.”
“I like them both, especially if you're the one making them.” You hug him closer. “Will you let me help at least?”
“How ‘bout you sit on my counter and look pretty instead?”
You look up, pretending to think, “sure thing, handsome. But let me clean up after?”
“That, I can't do, it's against my principles.”
“Oh principles, huh?” You lean your face close, lips ghosting over his own. Taunting him, leading him into a trap, he turns into putty in your arms.
“Mm-hmm, principles.” His tone wavers as he focuses on your pretty lips and how your eyes shine just for him.
Suddenly moving away with a giggle, he looks at you like you just kicked his puppy. “Sucker.” You say, smiling mischievously.
He nods, hands on his hips, bested at his own game. Biting his lips, head down, he doesn't let his giddy smile show itself. “Fuckin' hell,” he could only say while under the fog of affection you created.
“You okay, Hobie?” You duck, peeking at his face to tease him further. “What did you want to show me in this musty place? We did have to ride here for an hour and a half.”
Fixing his composure, he almost loses it again when he sees you playfully tilt your head. Biting his tongue, and trying (and failing) to calm his heartbeat, he finally replies. “Upstairs, love.”
You grin like you've won the biggest teddy bear at the fair. “Okie dokie, upstairs it is.”
“You go first.” He gestures towards the worse for wear stairs with his head.
“And let you pull a fast one on me? Nope, you go first.”
“You go first because if you fall I can catch you, not because I want to take a look at your arse.”
You fake a gasp, “I didn't say anything about looking at my ass, I was talking about you scaring me.” Shaking your head like you're chastising him, you still go up the stairs first. “What was that saying? The one that James said to his girl last week?” You bait him.
“‘I hate to see you leave but love to watch you go?’”
“Hobie!” You giggle out, winning once again.
“I'm startin' to think that I should've gone first.” He says it flatly but his soft smile says otherwise.
The stairs are winding, with every step the stairs get more and more broken than the last. With its cracking and creaking wood, the material has been morphed from the elements through the years. The walls have different graffiti on them, some are cool looking but some are mostly raunchy that are most commonly seen on bathroom stalls.
His arms are ready to catch you when you almost slip on a piece of glass. Hand on the small of your back, he's starting to think twice about bringing to his old spot.
“You alright?” He sighs in relief at your nod. “Careful,” guiding you upwards, for his own sanity, his hand never left your back.
“What’s at the end of the rainbow?” You ask, voice echoing, “Spiderman himself better be waiting for us up there or—” your words get stuck in your throat at the view.
Hobie leads you away from the stairs, and towards the roof. Without the trees blocking the sky, light and smoke pollution hiding the stars, you gasp at the sight. Millions of stars twinkle, no clouds in sight as the full moon greets you back.
“I've never seen so many stars.” You gawk and softly chuckle. “It's beautiful.”
Hobie could only gaze at you as the stars reflect your eyes. “It is.”
After a breath, you look at Hobie with adoration. “Thank you for bringing me here. The trip was worth it.”
He takes your hand, “I used to hang around ‘ere on my own, the view helps.”
“You bring all your girls here?” You joke.
“Nah, only you. Just you, love.” Your heart leaps at the words. The sudden coldness around your wrist almost makes you jump if not for his hold.
“What's this?” Hobie moves his hand away to reveal a silver bracelet with an itty bitty black guitar pick charm. You crane your neck up so fast he thought that you might've broken it. “Hobie,” you say breathlessly. “What— wh—” You clamp your mouth shut when he holds your face gingerly.
“Is this better than havin' spiderman ‘ere?” Hobie leans closer for the third time. He promised that your first kiss wouldn't be in the broken down place, despite its falling walls and waterlogged floors, it has a special place in his heart. It's only appropriate to bring you who has wiggled her way inside his heart to his special place.
“A thousand times better.” Your cold breaths mix together.
“Does this mean I get an eighth date?” His thumb rubs soothingly under your eyes.
“That and a hundred more.” Finally closing the gap, you kiss him like how the stars graze the sky. Softly and tenderly, leaving pieces of yourself in the kiss.
Maybe he'll tell you about his other secret at one of those hundred dates.
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