A story in 2 act (they created chaos and destroyed the diner)
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From the series ‘No Moment of Silence’ Chicago. Photograph by Andre Lambertson (1990’s)
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Miles with the hammer Spider-ham have him after he catches Miguel off guard:
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this is just a friendly reminder that it’s okay if you’re not writing right now. it’s okay if you’re only able to pop on here to yell into the void about your muses for five minute and leave, or make edits or goof around with your friends and just chill, or even do none of that at all. this is a hobby. it’s okay if you’re not in the headspace to approach that one mutual yet, or answer those ims right away. the world is a stressful place for most of us right now, we’re all struggling with something one way or another, and we’re mainly here to have fun. taking care of yourself comes before any expectations anyone here has of you, so don’t ever let someone shame you for not being fully present here for however long that takes.
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I love Miles Morales and his dad!!!!!!
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“I tried to ask my parents to leave the room, but not my life. It was very hard. Because the room was the size of my life. Because my life was small.”
— Chen Chen, “Chapter VIII”
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I’ve made tons of stupid mistakes and later I regretted them. And I’ve done it over and over again, thousands of times.
When you start a drawing, you have to remember negative space is just as important as the strokes of your brush : the absence of something to imply the presence of something. See, how the absence makes a piece ? See how it shapes the form ? How it grows, how it consumes ?
That snowy hood drapes down, obscuring her profile to him, veiling her expression but her shoulder hunch with invisible weight and his hand twitches, the need to reach out sparking in fingers that clench in on themselves. She's so close, no longer lines of pencil in his sketchbook, no longer just an imprint of memory he kept tracing over and over and over — yet the dimensions between them seems to linger and grow, even now, in the space they occupied.
❝ So have I. ❞ He blurts, words awkward and clunky with the weight of wanting to connect, a desperate thing he tried to swallow in the pit of his gut.
❝ I mean — there isn't a spider-manual out there, or even a person manual. We're just . . . figuring everything out as it happens, right ? ❞
It's exhausting, on your own. Unspoken words sit like lead in his mouth, heavy on his tongue in those gaps of conversation with his parents, the pit in his gut dependent on the memory of those fleeting bonds he'd latched onto, satiated by the idea of closing the spaces that separated them.
Miles' brow furrows.
❝ I meant it when I said I wanted to be your friend . . . I thought you wanted that, too. ❞
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you dont like spider man ? thwip thwip ?
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if we get some kind of reunion between these two in btsv i’ll bawl my eyes out
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“But don’t lose heart, dear ones—don’t lose heart. Don’t let it make you bitter. Try to understand. Try to understand. The world’s already bitter enough, we got to try to be better than the world.”
—
James Baldwin, from Another Country (Dial Press, 1962)
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