#I can write something G

[buwheal]

hey spamton! anything interesting happen recently?

[milfygerard]

i still posit thered be way less inter-swiftie drama if we all stopped writing conspiracy theories and started making short-form psychoanalytical fiction writing exercises like a normal fucking fandom

[cheesycatz]

The Wormton AU is officially two years old now! (I really gotta start writing faster...) For the occasion, I redrew the original two sketches of Wormton. I had a few ideas before I came up with the winner, but this was the first time he was a "computer worm" rather than just some worm on a string adjacent thing(s). Honestly, he hasn't changed that much; just became more fleshed out as a character and fictional species (and the fact that he used to be 3 feet tall).

The fic is officially at 150k words! That's about three Great Gatsbys, or one A Tale of Two Cities if you prefer. I'll yap about it below.

Ahh, is any "take him home" style Spamton fic complete without him running away from the person trying to help him at some point? This might be the second time, actually. Does it still count as running away if you stalk someone daily afterwards? Unrelated question.

I've got an entire pile of angst to get through before these guys' relationship can be salvaged. Spamton really doesn't want to address his feelings, so he plays into the addisons' assumptions that his motivations were entirely transactional and that he is physically incapable of caring about them. And, when the addisons have so little to work with in the first place, it's an easy lie for him to spread, to the point where even Blue thinks he hates them at this point. This story would be so much shorter if this mf was mentally stable enough to be honest about his positive feelings instead of trying to repress them. Bro is so deep in the platonic closet

I got to write a (mostly verbal) fight scene? It was fun writing Pink chew Spamton out, because, while they're definitely still grossed out by him, they never hold his malworm status against him. They see him as a parasite because of the way he acts, not because he physically is one. I want Pink and the others to seem justified in their anger/disappointment, even if the readers would know that's he's not really as heartless as he claims to be. Trying to remove the pissed off 16 ft long writhing mass of muscle, teeth, and claws freeloading in your friend's closet by hand was never a good idea, though.

Man, I wanna talk about the plot in detail so badly 😭 I must limit myself to scraps so that I spend more time writing the fic than rambling about it. Last thing I'll say for now is that I've finally got a good plan for the resolution! The final length depends on how much fluff I want to add to the end. I need at least a little bit to make up for all this angst

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

for me, nothing hits quite like someone who's sick but like...still in a good mood? like either ignoring it or admitting they're not well but still pleasant to be around. like they sneeze and someone asks if they're ok and they just roll their eyes and say "yeah i just have a stupid fuckin cold" 🫠😳👁️👄👁️🤩

[non-un-topo]

More clothing studies, this time from my fic Axis. I was aiming for authenticity while also trying to have each of their personalities show a little bit in their clothing choices. Two for Nicky, to show his layers.

[heda-in-the-clouds]

Here's a fluffy and cute story about how yoga!Lexa and surfer!Clarke met Fish the puppy. The lovely and amazingly talented @lexa-griffins drew this sketch of Lexa holding Fish for me. She's the absolute best beta I could have asked for

That's not a fish

Lexa dug her toes into the cold sand that morning as the early sunrise gently warmed her skin. She and Clarke were just a couple of days into their two week road trip for the summer.

After their passionate night under the stars, she decided to let Clarke sleep some more that morning. A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled last night's events.

The beach parking lot was empty which allowed them to open their van's backdoor and watch the sunset as they made love with each other. They were finally free to moan and scream out their pleasures that were only drowned out by the crashing waves.

Clarke took her from behind as they watched the sunset over the calm horizon. The dying rays of light warmed her skin while Clarke's vigorous thrusts warmed her core. As the waves pounded the beach, Clarke pounded into her. She felt every push and pull of Clarke's strokes like the ocean's tide. The waves crashing into the beach left the sand wet just like how Clarke's thrusts left her wet.

She finally saw a brilliant explosion of color in her eyes as she climaxed. She couldn't tell if it was the plethora of colors from the sunset or her powerful orgasm blinding her. She didn't care as Clarke filled her.

Lexa snapped herself free from her memory when she felt her yoga shorts getting wet. It was too early to be getting those thoughts and she didn't pack nearly enough underwear.

She needed to cool down and focus her thoughts. She pulled out her yoga mat, laid it down on the cool sand, and started her early morning yoga routine. She went through her usual motions and gracefully held and transitioned between her favorite poses.

She got into a downward dog, closed her eyes, and meditated to clear her mind. As she meditated, she suddenly felt something wet licking her face. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of an adorable golden retriever puppy watching her curiously. She couldn't help but smile and gush at her new fluffy companion.

"Bark." The puppy playfully barked when Lexa smiled at him.

"What's your name cutie? I'm Lexa." She cheerfully asked as she continued holding her form.

"Bark bark." The puppy continued barking at his new friend.

"It's so nice to meet you 'Bark bark.' You're just the cutest thing aren't you?" Lexa lovingly blurted out.

The puppy bashfully tilted his head, looked down, and dug his tiny paw into the sand after hearing Lexa's compliment. The puppy then began prancing around hoping Lexa would stop whatever she's doing and play with him. Lexa couldn't help but grin at this fluffy bundle of joy.

The puppy then arched his back and leaned forward as he tried to copy Lexa's pose. She giggled when his floppy ears covered his eyes causing him to roll over onto his back and let out soft whimpers. Lexa quickly got out of downward dog, sat down and reached for him.

"I guess I'm done with yoga for today. It's okay puppy. You're alright. I'm here." Lexa soothed her new companion as she rubbed his belly. He gave her an appreciative bark.

"Yoga isn't for everyone. You should meet Clarke. She's really bad at yoga too." Lexa chuckled when the puppy tilted his head at her as if he could understand her.

Seeing a new place to sit, the puppy waddled over and climbed over her legs. He spun around in a couple of circles before clumsily plopping himself down onto her lap. He nuzzled into her stomach hoping to warm himself up. Lexa just beamed and gushed when the puppy finally settled himself into her lap.

"What are you doing all out here by yourself buddy? Do you belong to anyone?" Lexa asked as she rubbed the puppy's head and scratched his ears.

"Ow ow." The puppy whined which sounded like a 'No' to Lexa's ears. She then checked his collar for any tags but couldn't find any. She knew the beach was empty last night and this morning so she figured he was a stray.

"Well, you're sticking with me now. How do you like that?"

"Awoo" The puppy adorably howled and wagged his tail after hearing the good news. He then climbed onto Lexa's chest and began smothering her face with wet kisses using his tongue. Lexa giggled and laughed as her new friend gave her an early morning bath.

"I guess that's a yes puppy. I just gotta give you a name first. I can't keep calling you puppy."

The puppy then stopped lapping Lexa's face with his tongue and patiently stared at her.

"Mhm, what about Fish? We found you at the beach and my girlfriend is a marine biologist and crazy about them. What do you say Fish?"

"Awooooooo!" The puppy gleefully howled and smothered Lexa with even more kisses.

"Okay Fish. Stop. Let's go and show you off to Clarke." Lexa pleaded as she pulled Fish off her and set him down so she could roll up her yoga mat.

Fish bounced excitedly as he waited for her. Once she was done, she beckoned Fish to follow her up the trail to their van. Fish happily barked as he weaved between her legs during their walk.

As Lexa got closer to their van, she noticed that Clarke was already up. Her feet were hanging over the edge as she probably sipped her morning cocoa. Wanting to surprise her girlfriend, Lexa bent down so she could talk to Fish.

"Okay Fish. Are we ready to meet Clarke? She's so gonna love you. I mean how can she not with your big floppy ears, adorable brown eyes, and warm fluffy fur that's the same color as her hair." Lexa gently patted his head and rubbed behind his ears.

"Bark!"

"Shh! Don't want to ruin the secret just yet." Lexa grinned as she zipped her lips with her finger.

Fish stuck out his tongue which seemed like an 'Ok' to Lexa. She then gestured for him to wait there so he was out of sight. He bobbed his head up and down. Lexa smiled and silently told herself that Fish was already so smart.

Lexa then walked to the back of the van where she saw Clarke drowsily drinking her morning cocoa with her eyes still closed and their blanket wrapped tightly around her.

Sensing Lexa was near, Clarke immediately opened the blanket and her legs.

"Come on babe. It's cold. I need my girlfriend to warm me up." Clarke groggily uttered when she felt the cool ocean breeze penetrate her warm blanket fortress.

Lexa quickly stepped inside and between Clarke's legs. Clarke immediately pulled her in close and wrapped the blanket tight around them. They both leaned into each other and softly kissed. Clarke's hummed at the subtle taste of salt on Lexa's cold lips. Lexa moaned as she tasted the sweet chocolate on Clarke's warm lips.

"Morning love." They both greeted each other once they broke their kiss but still nuzzled their noses together.

"I missed you this morning. In fact, we missed you this morning." Clarke softly whispered to Lexa's ear.

"We?" Lexa furrowed her eyebrows.

Clarke pulled Lexa in closer with her legs and smirked into her neck when Lexa felt her hard against her shorts.

"I was hoping we could pick up where we left off last night. Since we fucked in front of the sunset, I wanted to go full circle and fuck you in front of the sunrise." Clarke murmured into Lexa's neck.

"Clarke you dog!" Lexa playfully slapped her girlfriend's chest. She suddenly heard Fish's tiny whimper next to her. He had inadvertently walked up to her after hearing the word dog.

"I'm sorry babe but you looked so peaceful this morning that I didn't want to wake you. It looked like you could use the extra rest." Lexa apologized.

"Besides, we still have plenty of more beaches to visit on our road trip. You have more chances to fuck me in front of a sunrise or sunset." Lexa reassured.

"All is forgiven babe. Now that you're here, what do you say about a morning quickie? I could use one to start the day and get my blood flowing. I felt your shorts and they're already wet." Clarke cheekily grinned as she rubbed Lexa's sides and began dipping her fingers into her yoga shorts.

"Claaarke. Wait, I have to show you something first and promise you won't freak out." Lexa uttered before she gave into Clarke's proposal for a quickie.

"Umm, ok. What is it Lexa?" Clarke inquired as she stopped squeezing her girlfriend's ass and let her go.

"Wait here. You're gonna love this surprise." Lexa then walked to the side of their van and picked up Fish who started licking her hands, eager for attention.

"Ready boy?"

"Bark!"

Lexa walked back to Clarke, cradling Fish in her arms.

"Meet Fish!" Lexa excitedly squealed as she shoved her puppy into Clarke's face.

"That is a dog." Clarke countered with a confused expression.

"Yeah, Fish." Lexa grinned as she began to rock Fish in her arms so his floppy ears began waving around.

"Bark bark bark" Fish happily barked at Clarke.

"You named the puppy Fish?" Clarke asked as she sat perplexed in the van as Lexa danced happily with Fish in front of her.

"Yeah, he's ours. I found him all alone this morning while I was doing yoga. He has no tag and there was no one else on the beach either last night or this morning so he must be a stray. We're adopting him because we can't just leave him all by himself here. He needs a family. Also, I named him Fish well because I found him at the beach and you like fish because you're a marine biologist so I put two and two together and ta-da, I came up with Fish. Look Clarke, he's so fluffy!!!!" Lexa breathlessly spoke before she shoved Fish directly in front of Clarke's face who was still processing in all the new information.

"Ours?" Clarke gulped nervously as four eyes stared longingly at her. Fish's tiny brown eyes watered as he let out an adorable yawn. Lexa's soft green irises begged as she pouted her lips.

"Ok, fine. We can keep Fish." Clarke finally gave in after she was overcome with emotions at how soft and cute Lexa looked holding her fluffy Fish in her arms.

"Awooooo!" Fish happily howled as he wiggled in Lexa's arms.

"Yay!!! Thank you babe! I love you. We love you don't we Fish? Fish say thank you to Clarke." Lexa gleefully squealed.

Suddenly, Clarke felt Fish's wet tongue slobbering all over her face as Lexa laughed hysterically in the background.

"Okay, I think Fish has said enough thank you's to me already babe." Clarke panted out as she tried to avoid Fish's tongue.

"Um Clarke?" Lexa shyly asked after she pulled Fish away from Clarke's now drool covered face.

"Yes love?" Clarke calmly responded as she wiped off Fish's drool from her face using their blanket.

"How do you take care of a dog? I've never had a pet before." Lexa quietly confessed.

Clarke groaned and sighed. This was going to be a long road trip.

[tyrianluda]

Scout would LOVE mucisian drama even if he doesnt know the artist, eats that shit up and becomes a megafan of some dude in a day just because they dropped a good satire or diss track. Rip scout you wouldve loved Kendrick v Drake (and also hatsune miku)

RIP Scout you would've loved Kendrick v Drake. And Megan Thee Stallion. And Eazy E's "Real Muthaphuckkin G's". And Hatsune Miku. Can't forget her.

[st4rsinthenight]

★Y'know what I've been thinking about lately ?? Tinies witnessing crime scenes.★

TW: MURDER, KIDNAPPING, VERY BRIEF MENTION OF SOMEONE BEING CHAINED, MENTION OF WOUNDS, MENTION OF STARVATION, THIEVING, MENTIONS OF HOLDING SOMEONE AT GUNPOINT

|☆| A tiny being a witness to a murder, silently peering in horror as they find themselves heaving at the sight of the innocent victim on the ground, all bloodied and wounded thanks to the killer's vile attacks. Though they know for a fact that they can't do much to prevent the innocent citizen from dying, so that leaves them with the option of running to prevent themselves from being yet another addition to the killer's hit list. That is, unless the killer did notice them- and is now on the hunt for the tiny little creature that knows that they committed a murder.

|★| A tiny hearing the screams of a human who is pleading for help to get out of a kidnapper's grasp- or maybe they happen to live in said kidnapper's residence, being exposed to the horrific sight of the poor, and perhaps tortured victim who is kept away from the outside world by a human with ill intentions. Though, the tiny could try and help out on their situation, for instance trying to sneak in couple small bags of snacks to give to the hostage in order to fuel at least some of their energy if they are being starved- or swoop around the house to try and find a key to unchain- or unlock the victim. However, if they just so happen to be outside, the feeling of being helpless and at loss would be quite overwhelming for both the tiny, and the victim.

|☆| A little borrower staying hidden as they watch a thief break into the human's house that they live in- maybe they saw them while they were out hoarding for their survival and they just saw.. a bigger, more intimidating hoarder pick locking the front door. Who is also thieving either for survival, or pleasure. Now, this could be a little silly scenario— if the thief is not willing to harm anyone and is just there to take stuff, and the borrower would see it as a bit of a competition between them two, or maybe even view them as an aspiration, enging them on to continue their 'borrowing missions'. However, where it would be quite disturbing— is if they overhear said thief yell absurdities and threats at the human if they are awake, demanding to hand over all their belongings while having them at gun point. Now, if the borrower does not care about the human, they could just remained secured inside the wall until the hoarder left, though if they developed a little relationship with them, they could try and sabotage said thief with the help of little distractions and such, maybe knocking over something off of a shelf to catch the criminal's attention as their human friend takes the opportunity to call the police.

I might add more to this but. guys. guys. I am quite normal here. I do swear that I am quite normal about these type of tropes, honest guys.★

[volfoss]

it is beyond infuriating how anne rice seems to insist on marius being a positive force in anyone's life ever. like she can't fully commit to exploring the fact he groomed armand and has repeatedly taken away his consent for what marius thinks is best (take the end of TVA as an example) and just kind of flatly puts it in the narrative. there's not really much interest in how these horrific events make marius come across as the worst because EVERYONE loves him. for gods sake, lestat learns from armand exactly what marius did to him in TVL and then proceeds to go find marius and be super friendly to him in the same fucking book. even armand and pandora, two of the people who have MORE than enough right to hate him, do not. it doesnt feel like shes trying to explore the toxicity of the abusive dynamic he traps them in, it just is there. and like yeah ofc the toxic vampire romance series but i think that this should be handled with more care. and it is not ever really framed in a way that she is interested in exploring how marius should easily be one of the most horrific characters in this series because it kind of feels like sa/rape/grooming/other things of that sort are just put there to further plot and not to really get the respect that they deserve in a medium.

[ranger-kellyn]

can i PLEASE get my creative drive back ;~;

[itspileofgoodthings]

I love the rhyming on ttpd. can only think of two examples currently but I know there’s more.

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[aelswiths]

AELSWITH (ripping my heart out and destroying me 😭😭) IN 1x07

[miniscule-meow]

Isabell and the Lads (13)

Masterpost

First Part | Last Part | Next Part

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: none? This one is pretty cozy

---

“Zeke it is like, two AM. What are you doing?” Marcus leans against the door frame to their shared office space. Zeke is sitting on the floor, an upholstery staple gun in his hand. Strewn around him are piles of books, scraps of fabric, a pair of scissors, and all of the doll furniture they made today.

“I’m curtaining off part of this shelf,” Zeke responds, nodding to the bookshelf he’s sitting in front of before shooting another two staples into the underside of the shelf.

“Uh, okay?” Marcus says, looking across the scene with visible confusion, “Mystery solved then, I guess.”

“It’s so Isabell can have her own space. You know, something that isn’t a box or a dollhouse,” he gives his roommate a pointed look.

“Alright, that’s fair,” Marcus rubs the back of his neck, pushing himself off the doorframe, “This couldn’t wait until morning?”

“Nope,” Zeke responds simply, placing the staple gun down and picking up the scissors. He cuts a slit in the curtain, an entryway for Isabell.

So far, he’s curtained off a little more than two thirds of the shelf, the smaller section will be left open so she can be easily picked up or dropped off. The larger section of the shelf will get walled off with another swatch of fabric for her privacy. But first, they have to arrange the furniture in there.

 Marcus sighs, scanning the floor around him carefully, before looking around the rest of the room. His tired eyes eventually land on where Isabell is sitting, blanket bundled around her on Zeke’s sewing table. He crosses the room in a few easy strides and plops down in the desk chair. His arm rests down on the table shortly followed by his head laying down against the back of his hand. After a slow, lethargic blink he sighs again, looking at her.

“Was this his idea, or your idea,” Marcus mumbles quietly to her. He looks more than just a little silly with his cheek squished against his hand like that.

“Um,” she tenses. If she tells him that it was her idea, then he might be mad at her for causing all this noise at two in the morning. But, if she tells him that it was Zeke’s idea, then he might get mad at Zeke, and then Zeke might get mad at her. Zeke is already frustrated with her anyway; she bit him after all.

So the question becomes, should she make one human more upset with her, or should she have both humans be annoyed?

The room was too big for her to go back to sleep. She could have tried, but they ran the risk of her forgetting where she was when she woke up again. That was something that both her and Zeke wanted to avoid. With the dollhouse and the shoe box both being non-options, this was the best they could come up with. Really, it was sort of a mutual agreement they had.

“Hey, relax,” Marcus mumbles with a tired laugh. Zeke turns, glancing over at them out of the corner of his eye. He looks between them for a moment, likely checking that his excitable roommate is keeping his hands to himself. Zeke points to her, then flashes a quick thumbs up. You good?  She nods, Zeke gives one sharp nod in response and turns away, continuing to arrange furniture on the shelf. “Not every question is an interrogation,” Marcus says, oblivious to the small communication that just happened in front of him. “I’m just making conversation.”

“You just like hearing your own voice,” Zeke mumbles, placing the little couch on the shelf. He looks at its position for a moment before switching its position with another piece of furniture.

“Hm. Maybe,” Marcs says, a sleepy grin spreading across his face. He winks at Isabell.

“I’m almost done,” Zeke says, picking up the fabric that’s going to become the outer curtain. “Isabell, do you like how this is set up?”

She peers into the shelf, everything was meticulously placed, not exactly an easy feat for someone of his size. But still, she can’t imagine trying to do it herself. Even if the state of her leg wasn’t quite so critical, moving all that furniture would have been

She hasn’t been here very long, but she’s already seen that Zeke has an immaculate sense for detail. Looking into the shelf, she can see that he really thought through where everything should go. He didn’t just put the furniture in and make it fit, he arranged it for her. She nods her approval, and Zeke uses the staple gun to curtain off her room from the rest of the office.

Why did he do all of this? The question burns at the back of her mind

He could have just left her out on the coffee table. Even if that meant rotten sleep for her, it would have been significantly more convenient for him. Instead, he took the time to clear this shelf, delicately arrange all the miniature furniture inside for her, and curtain it off from the rest of the room. He even thought about how this room doesn’t specifically belong to either of the humans, and how this room gets less traffic than any of the other common areas in the house. It’s their shared office space, so she should have the most privacy here.

Why?

Even though it’s very late. Even though the process woke up his roommate. Even though he himself had just been woken up, and not too kindly at that. Even though she had just bit him. Even though she is so small, and insignificant, and practically a stranger to him.

Why?

“Just let us take care of you,” he said

“It’s just human decency,” he said… That can’t be right. That’s nothing.

What is she not seeing here? What could he possibly gain from helping her. She’s known other borrowers that wouldn’t lend a helping hand without a proper trade first. It’s very clear at this point that these humans are very literally saving her life. If she had managed to get back home, she wouldn’t have had nearly enough supplies to allow her to rest. It’s likely that she could have starved or died from dehydration when her leg decided to give out and not let her go borrowing. Or, her leg could have given out in the middle of a mission, leaving her defenseless against whatever human she was stranded with. Or, he could have gotten an infection and that could have taken her. There are so few possibilities for her where an injury like this doesn’t immediately spell the end of her life.

She can’t repay the humans for this. There is no equal trade for what they’re doing for her.

She observes these humans for a moment. Zeke, setting aside the staple gun, and tidying the books around him. They’ll need a new home since they’ve been evicted for her sake. Marcus dozes beside her, his blonde hair is tied back, but a few wavy strands still fall into his face.

What’s in it for them?

What do they want from her?

These thoughts continue to gnaw at her when Zeke approaches. He looks down at his roommate, asleep sprawled across the desk. Zeke huffs, rolling his eyes, but a small smile tugs at his lips. It’s good to see that they do more than just tolerate each other. They must have been friends for some time- not that she should care about the social relationships of the humans here. She hasn’t even figured out what they really want from her, she shouldn’t care about whether or not they actually get along.

Zeke brings a hand to Marcus’ shoulder and nudges him awake. Marcus groans in protest.

“Go to bed, I’m going to have to listen to you complain all day tomorrow if you try to sleep like this,” Zeke says quietly. Marcus heaves a deep sigh but gets up. He mumbles incoherently as he trudges across the hall to his bedroom. Once Marcus leaves, Zeke turns his attention down to her, lowering himself down slightly so he isn’t looming straight over her.

Her heart skips like it always does when she becomes his sole focus. He moves slowly, full of intention. Zeke’s hands slowly cup around her, before he pauses. He’s only done this once before, to bring her from the coffee table into the office. Earlier today he held her to transport her across the house, but her leg was cooperating enough at that point that she was able to hobble onto his palm herself. She had told him that’s how she would prefer to be picked up, and she stands by that. But with the state of her leg, she doesn’t have much choice in the matter anymore.  Zeke hesitates now, seemingly uncomfortable with the prospect of simply scooping her up.

His eyes remain trained on her. He doesn’t say anything, but she knows that he’s waiting for her to confirm that this is alright. She doesn’t see what kind of difference that makes. If she doesn’t let the human pick her up, she’s stuck on this desk. So, she hugs the blanket tighter around herself and gives a quick nod. Zeke closes the distance between them, and gently lifts her into his palms.  She has had more than her fair share of human hands lately. She’d like to tell herself that this will be the end of it, but she knows that once she wakes up, tomorrow will be a new day filled to the brim with more interactions with these humans. And the day after that, and the day after that. Until she can make the trip back home. To Zeke’s credit, he moves slowly. If she didn’t know any better, she might even say that it seems as though he’s just as uncomfortable as she is. He pulls back the corner of the fabric wall and hovers his hand next to her bed. She awkwardly scoots herself over, and once she’s on the plush surface of the bed, his hand retreats.

“Isabell,” He begins, then hesitates as if unsure about what he should say. He settles on a simple, “goodnight,” and with that, he lets the fabric go, and she’s plunged into a comfortable darkness. She can hear him leave the room, he clicks off the main light as he goes and what little light was filtering in through the fabric, disappears. She blinks, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, and she takes in her surroundings.

It feels safe. She can almost pretend that she’s back in the walls. She can almost pretend that a human hand wasn’t just here, arranging all the furniture in this space for her. She can almost pretend that said human hand won’t be the first thing to greet her in the morning.

Almost, almost, almost.

Pretend, pretend, pretend.

The reality of the situation is that she’s a complete failure.

She’s been outsmarted, they put her in a DIY dollhouse, and she’s going to have to rely on these humans for, what did Zeke say, a month, before she can really go home. She’s helpless. What kind of borrower is this bad at what they do, it’s all she can think about as she drifts off to sleep once more.

[clowningaroundmars]

Happy bday Miles!!!

it was miles' bday yesterday! i was hard at work pumping this thing out but alas it was already past my bedtime when i finally finished it u_u

this is... very last minute and i'm p sure you can tell but i hope yall enjoy anyhow LOL

for my (belated) gift to the mileses i present: miles and miles g celebrating their birthday together! and g getting a gift better than anything anyone could wrap up for him :) <3

Miles G was nervous. Very nervous.

It was already August third, a date he never really ever paid much attention to before today, but here it was.

The day.

His birthday. His 16th birthday, to be exact. And not just his birthday, but the birthday that other dimensional variants of himself shared as well.

Namely, one Miles Morales from Earth-1610 came to mind, especially now as he held his wrapped package in one hand and shuffled nervously from one foot to another.

The suffocating darkness of Earth-42’s late evening was falling and falling quickly, which would otherwise ignite something in him on a normal day. But, as he fiddled with his dimensional watch strapped to his right wrist, he knew this wasn’t any normal evening out.

After the events of… the utter and total chaos of his inter-dimensional doppelganger crashing into their universe out of nowhere once many months ago, life was never the same for him or his family.

As a result of the inter-dimensional shenanigans that ensued, his mother Rio finally found out about his secret identity and his illicit vigilante dealings on the nights he usually got away with his uncle Aaron, and that was… well.

It was a Time, alright.

Eventually, after boxing both his and his uncle’s ears and giving them a stern lecture, Rio slowly warmed up to the idea of her son going out and doing what he needed to do in order to assist with NYC’s battle against the fascist oppression that the Sinister Six were insisting upon the city. With help, of course.

Rio’s one condition was that Miles G’s new spider-themed friends would come and help and make sure her son was still on the straight and narrow, that he wasn’t going to get too hurt.

She figured that if Miles G wasn’t going to back down from being a hero in his own right, then he might as well have someone by his side helping him achieve his goals… and helping out at the hospital and F.E.A.S.T. as well every now and then, of course!

Now, she was waiting right by the door to the rooftop, holding it open with a hip and looking on at her son approvingly. It was August of course, but that night on Earth-42 happened to be a bit chillier than normal. Her hair frizzed with the humidity that hung thick in the air and she wrapped her hands around her arms as she smiled.

Miles glances up and notices the rolling darkness overhead moving in a bit too quickly. Must be a storm brewing again, then. It sure smelled like it, anyways.

“Good luck, mijo! Tell them I said happy birthday to the other you!” Rio calls, just as something suspiciously thunder-like starts growling on the other end of the city. “Y no te preocupes tanto, Miles! Tu pareces tan nervioso! Relax a little, it’ll be a fun time, right?”

Miles G offers her a crooked smile. It didn’t really feel genuine at all, just a mask he plasters onto his face to hopefully placate his mother, which seems to work. Rio beams at him and then the winds start picking up.

“Okay, goodnight Miles! Te amo!” Her voice is almost drowned out by the sudden chilly gust that blows through and whips her hair in different directions. She gives her son one final wave before turning and letting the door shut behind her.

Miles breathes in the ozone that materializes in the air, trying to ground himself in the sudden temperature drop before a streak of lightning bursts through the clouds and flashes out of the corner of his eye. Feeling his anxiety bubbling through his nerves and into his chest, he hastily starts the search for his “twin’s” dimension.

The idea of going to a party and celebrating his birthday for the first time in years, alongside his doppelganger and his family in a dimension that isn’t his-- but probably should have been-- made his stomach roil a bit.

But thunderstorms? Those were a whole different level of hell no.

The quickly-developing storm gave Miles G just that last bit of courage he needed to take the leap, metaphorically speaking.

The portal he opens once he finds Earth-1610 almost instantaneously blinks into existence right before him. Well, also literally speaking, too, he muses sardonically as well, peering into the bright neon hues of his own custom-made portal.

He didn’t really know whether he liked Hobie Brown from Earth-138 yet, but he sure as hell was never going to get used to the fact that that kid straight up just reverse-engineered technology from the future, on his own. That alone put Hobie high up on the ranks of respect in Miles’ own mind.

Well. No more time to waste. Another burst of electricity streaked through the night sky, illuminating the angry dark rain clouds advancing on the city like jaguars ready to pounce. The anxiety threatened to burst forth from Miles’ chest just like the booming thunder that clapped in the air just then, and he took that as his cue to move.

He hated jumping through these portals, but hated storms even more. With one breath held tightly into his lungs, he stepped forward…

… And landed on some cardboard boxes.

Goddamnit.

Not a bad place to land, though, given his watch was still a prototype Hobie had cooked up last-minute to enable non-superpowered beings to travel through space and time without getting their nuclei scrambled like omelets.

All in all, not the worst position he’s found himself in, either. Not like that one time with those guard dogs… shudder. Anyways.

Miles G slowly stood up, head on a swivel as he immediately takes in his surroundings, hoping no one saw the giant burst of purple and blue lights that his portal emitted. Behind him, the aforementioned portal quickly fizzled out and blinked out of existence.

He seemed to land in an empty, but very smelly alleyway next to some restaurant on Earth-1610, if the wafting smell of greasy food hitting his nostrils was anything to go by. Dozens of styrofoam containers and wet-looking garbage bags sat piled up next to an overflowing dumpster, and a rat or two started to make their break for it once Miles lifted his legs out of the pile he landed in to connect sneaker soles to concrete.

He dusts himself off, groaning something about needing to find that twiggy punk and throttle him for not getting him his own stabilized watch sooner, when the back door of said restaurant suddenly swung open and a mean-looking, heavyset man with a hell of a beer gut started scowling at him.

“Aye! Whaddya doin’ back here, dumpster diving? Punk kid! Get outta here!”

Miles G’s own upper lip curled with full teenage disdain. “I’m not dumpster diving, genius. I’m takin’ a shortcut through here. That alright with you? It ain’t illegal,”

“Takin a shortcut?” The man’s eyes bulge out with rage. “Lyin’ punk! Get on outta here!” He hurls more curse words at Miles and shakes his fist like a cartoon character yelling at someone to get off their lawn.

Miles simply rolls his eyes, stoops over to fetch his gift from the giant pile of discarded cardboard boxes and brushes it off as well. He tosses a sarcastic salute at the man as he makes his way down the alleyway.

“Stay classy, my man,” he grumbles and steps out into the blinding rays of the late August evening on Earth-1610.

It was lucky he was found by this man on this dimension rather than back home, because otherwise his encounter would have been possibly twice as deadly than a grumpy old restaurant cook simply shaking a fist at him.

It was one of the many things about this mirror-dimension that he needed to get used to, at first. The adults back on 42 were twice as aggressive and authoritative as the ones from here, and it was something very relieving to find out once he first stepped into this world.

Here-- even though things didn’t quite sit right in his cells about being in a world so similar to his, but yet slightly skewed-- he could really relax. He could let his shoulders down a bit, loosen his muscles, not hold his head up so high. He could truly live.

So now, even though he was most definitely going to be late to this party at his twin’s house (if his directional instinct was anything close to accurate), he was relatively chill.

Miles G strolled through the city streets of what looked to be Queens, though whether he was in the east side or the northern side was really up in the air. He turned on his heels towards a subway station and made a beeline for the underground oasis in the desert only to find that the subway map on Earth-1610 was completely flipped from the ones in his dimension.

Damnit. Damn it all. Well, then. Looks like he was gonna be even more late to the party.

He sent his dimensional twin a quick update text and began the long and frustrating process of taking pictures of maps, attempting to turnstile-hop as often as he could, and asking New Yorkers for directions.

Asking for directions and train info from New Yorkers here seemed to have the exact same success rate as it did back home; that is to say, little to none. Great. Miles stopped asking New Yorkers for directions after a while.

It killed him that he couldn’t just go as the crow flies with his gear, on account of needing to keep a low profile in order to not land 1610’s Miles in any hot water.

He missed his bungee and parkour gear something fierce after getting turned around yet again, hands picking at the stupid present’s gift wrapping impatiently after hopping onto the correct train this time. You’d think that a kid living and getting by all on his own in the city would make him a better navigator of public transportation, but alas. Even a 16 year old kid living his entire life in the bowels of the concrete jungle gets inbound and outbound trains confused sometimes. Go figure.

It seemed like it took forever and a half to finally find himself setting foot on the familiar streets of the Williamsburg area in Brooklyn, but the brownstones and corner streets eventually started shaping themselves into something much more familiar to him, much to his relief.

Cool. So this was Miles G’s domain, finally.

Even if all of the details were slightly off, even if some stores weren’t quite named correctly enough not to tickle a weird part in his brain as he walked past them, this was home. He knew it, and he felt his own “spidey senses” go off once he made his way closer and closer to his-- and Miles’-- apartment block.

G did a double take as he walked past the usual stream of faceless pedestrians and spotted a familiar puff of dark hair in the crowd. It was Miles!

Miles G may not have had that strange precognitive superpower that all of the other spider-people seemed to have, but it looked as though his body's cells had minds of their own as they gravitated towards his dimensional doppelganger bounding up to him with a joyful gait.

Miles was clad in his usual bright sporty colors, grinning as brightly as the sunset that cast everything in a nice warm hue all around them.

They dapped each other up as a casual greeting, immediately starting up their banter.

“You’re finally here, man, goddamn! Gettin’ old now, getting turned around more nowadays?” Miles ribbed his twin playfully.

“Ha, ha,” Miles G replied sarcastically, “You and me are the same age, remember? Anything you say about me--”

“You say about yourself. I know that one, smartass. I was the one who came up with that first, you can’t quote me back at me!”

“Arrest me, then,” G stuck out his chin defiantly and laughed when he got a strong jab to the side.

They quibbled like this all the way down the streets, two teenage boys just basking in the last golden rays of the sunset before it finally darkened to a nice purple haze on their shared birthday. A beautiful cloudless evening, the complete and total opposite of the raging storms most likely tearing their way through Earth-42's Brooklyn night.

G was enjoying himself so much that he forgot how nervous he was before this moment.

Navigating the streets of New York City alone with not much help from his own cellphone or the people around him distracted him long enough to put his worries off to the side for a while, and now that he’s reaching the steps to his own apartment building, it seems like all those worries are bubbling back up again.

His purple sneakers freeze right on the bottom steps of the Brooklyn brownstone he always called home, watching as his doppelganger reaches for the door handle and only stopping once he notices G fall silent behind him.

They pause together, and Miles tosses an all-too-casual glance over his shoulder up towards the stairs before letting the door shut behind him again.

They sit together on the stairs, side-by-side.

Miles G is taking a couple of deep breaths, using the box breathing method Miles taught him a while ago.

Miles asks him, “you sure you wanna do this, bro?”

“Yes,” Miles G answers, a little too quickly.

Glances are exchanged, a million words shared with just one look. G sighs then.

“Okay… maybe… I mean, I do. I really do, wanna… uh,” Miles G takes another deep breath before sitting back and fiddling with the ribbon on the present once more. “… I wanna celebrate this, like not just for you. For me, because it’s… this is gonna be the first time I ever had a party since… well. Anyways, yeah, so I wanna do this. I do! This is important and I have to do this.”

“But?” Miles adds, a bit hesitant. He’d never want to make his dimensional variant feel like he’s being pushed or pressured, especially when he looks like he’s teetering on the edge of a panic attack.

“But,” G emphasizes the T, “I… fuck, this is gonna sound kinda lame but, ugh. I hate sayin’ it out loud. But…!”

“Jeff, right?” Miles offers him his most comforting expression. G hates it anyhow.

G hangs his head, clasping his hands over the box. “Yeah,” he admits, full of shame. “It’s dumb and I should be over it by now--”

“Bro, stop. Look,” Miles sighs in a way that reminds G of Rio a little too much, making his heart clench. “Your dad passed away, man. That is tough. That's the literal definition of trauma, and there’s nothing anyone can say about that. But you shouldn’t beat yourself up over not having like a linear progression on healing or whatever. You’re never really gonna get over it, like ever. And that’s okay, man. Losing a family member like that’s hard. Real hard.”

Aaron, G thinks to himself then, nodding slowly. Miles is probably the only person who understood the visceral and soul-crushing feeling of watching a beloved family member die at such a young age; and a father figure as well, at that.

Sure, all the other spider-people lost their uncle Bens or Tonys or whatever they said their uncles’ names were. But Miles lost Aaron. Aaron Davis. A man that was held in such high regard by the both of them, a key player in the way they both grew up and formed their own personalities as kids. There was nobody like him, and that was a fact.

It felt simultaneously weird and also comforting to know exactly what Miles was thinking, feeling, because in a lot of small but significant ways, their pain mirrored each other’s. Miles knew. G knew.

There wasn’t anything else left to say.

Well…

“I gotta go up,” Miles G said quietly after a small bout of silence.

Miles shrugged non-committaly. “Only if you’re ready,” he replied.

“No,” G shook his head, his neatly-done braids wiggling alongside the movement. “I have got to man up and stop bein’ so pussy right now. He’s not my dad. He isn’t my dad and I can do this!”

Miles blew out a breath and leaned back on the stairs behind him, legs spread as he crosses his arms. “Dude, look at me. Dad’s not gonna be weird this time, okay? We talked to him and he’s cool about everything and he is not gonna be weird. Everyone understands if you need some time to yourself, like in my room or up on the roof, just in case. This isn’t mandatory, you know. You don't have to push yourself.”

“I know this isn’t mandatory but I don’t wanna ruin your special day, alright? I’ve gone years with no birthdays, I’ll be fine. I’ll live,” Miles G bit out. It was much harsher than he intended it to come out, so he tried to save the conversation. “I uhm… sorry. I mean… it’s no biggie to me if I have to skip out or whatever. If it’s too weird, y’know? If you guys don’t want me here... I just don’t wanna, like, step all over your guys’… lives. The way you all do things. I know it’s different.” G gives a half-hearted shrug, hoping his twin will catch on to what he’s trying to convey.

Miles leans forward then, clapping a hand on G’s shoulder and shaking him a bit. “Man, you worry too much. Just like me,” he laughs, “I can’t believe I’m like this! Goddamn,” he shakes his head.

G groans. “Am I, though? Am I worrying too much? Ain’t this whole situation just… weird?”

Miles waves his hands around as he speaks. “Yeah, but… teen heroes in spandex costumes shooting webs out of their wrists is weird, too. I promise you’re not ruining anyone’s day by existing. My parents love you, dude, you’re fine. Either way, no one’s gonna think bad of you if you wanna stay or go.”

G sighs deeply, steeling himself. “Then I’ll stay. We’ll do… the birthday things. It’ll be fine,”

“If you insist!” Miles shrugs again and moves to stand up.

G snorts derisively and puffs himself up to his twin’s height once they’re both on their feet. “I hate when you do that shit, man!”

“Do what?” Miles holds his palms aloft, grinning crookedly.

“Don’t play dumb, Morales. Just…” G wedges the box he was holding in between the ornate railings of the stairs and pops back up, annoyed. “Look at me. I look fine, right? I’m not dressed down too much?” He holds his arms akimbo.

Miles laughs again, giving his twin a well-meaning once-over.

“Hair good, kicks good?” Miles G presses, sending Miles a look all the while.

“Yes, yeah, dude. You look fine. Everything’s gonna be fine! Stop freakin’ out!”

“You’re pulling your stupid nonchalant cool guy shtick and I hate it. You know that makes me even more nervous, right? It does not help, not even a little,”

Miles cackles as he pulls the door open once more, motioning for G to hand him the wrapped present. “You are unbelievable, man. Completamente insoportable!”

They bicker once again all the way up three flights of stairs, as naturally as if they had done it for years until they reach Miles’ family apartment and push their way through the doorframe.

They don’t even get to set one Jordan into the living room before Earth-1610’s Rio is leaping out from right around the corner and shouting SURPRISE!!! right into their faces.

Behind her, Jeff wears a party hat and blows on a dinky little party horn.

Both Mileses stood frozen staring into the face of their excited mother before Miles opens his mouth to speak.

“Mamí, I already told you this wasn’t a surprise party!”

“No, pero yo quería, como… hacer un algito para el niño, sabes?" Rio answers innocently, cheesy grin plastered on her face as she reaches for a balloon floating nearby and hands it to G.

“Anyways,” Miles gives his twin a sidelong glance and holds his present aloft, picking his way past the balloons on the floor to deposit it next to a pile of boxes and bags. "Sorry about them, they're... y'know. They mean well, but--"

"Of course we do! What's with this attitude all of a sudden?" Jeff complains, taking off his comically small party hat and setting it aside.

“Last night, we had my party with the fam on the rooftop, and today it’s just us here. We’re gonna watch a movie and eat together if you don’t mind,” Miles begins again, by way of explaining the massive pile of gifts in the living room corner. “I figured your first party in a while should be more... lowkey. Just a totally casual and definitely not weird birthday celebration, right guys?” He shoots looks at both of his parents, who both nod.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Totally casual. We cool, we cool,” Jeff assures his son, punching at his shoulder playfully. “When have we ever not been cool? About, y’know… this whole inter-dimensional universe stuff?”

“Dad!” Miles groans.

G smiles a bit, shoving his hands in his pockets and hiking his shoulders up to his ears. “Yeah this sounds cool, actually. Real good, better than…”

“Than what you thought it’d be?” Miles grins, “you really think I’d just throw you into a massive block party with the whole family out of nowhere?”

“No, but,” G kicks off his sneakers as their parents go into the kitchen and start laying pots and bowls out onto the dining room table. “I dunno… I thought it’d be more than just us. But this is nice, yeah. I don’t mind this at all.”

“As I knew you wouldn’t!” Then, a little louder, “what’d I say, dad?”

“I still got some of the crew on speed dial with gifts if you want!” Jeff calls out from the kitchen.

G laughs aloud and shakes his head, finally relaxing for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Together, the four set up dinner on the table to laugh and eat, celebrating two birthdays with two versions of the same Miles. They toast to another happy birthday, tacking on a little “here’s hoping G survives until the next one” for good measure.

Miles elbowed his father for that, but G was more than grateful that he had some more people in his corner, even if they were from different dimensions. Knowing that he had another set of parents praying for his health and his safety in a world that seemed so far away and distant as to be from a completely different galaxy made his heart clench in a way he didn’t know how to articulate yet.

He raised his own glass and prayed for their health and safety as well.

Then they settled into the living room together to watch a goofy horror-comedy movie that Jeff insisted on picking out himself.

“So Miles let me know the other day that he doesn't really actually like horror movies much, which was-- y’know definitely not feeling betrayed or anything ‘cause of that, but.” He shot his son a look.

“Oh my god, this again,” Miles groans, rolling his eyes and smiling exasperatedly.

“Anyways, dunno what your horror tolerance is, is all. Don’t know if you love it or hate it, but my wife hates horror and I love it. I figure this one’s a good middle ground.”

G sat forward, clasping his hands together in front of him. “You hate horror movies?” He asks his twin.

Miles throws his hands up in the air. “Do not tell me you’re gonna say that you’re shocked ‘cause you love it,”

G bobs his head and laughs. “I’m gonna say that I’m shocked ‘cause I absolutely love horror. Huh! That’s… that’s kinda funny we’re different like that,” he hummed in thought.

Miles sighs. “Oh right, of course. My twin who is absolutely better than me at everything ever happens to love the same stuff my dad does. Man, y’know what, I’m wavin’ the white flag. You can have him if you want!”

“Huh?” Jeff looks back and forth between his two sons as they laugh.

"Pero así tampoco!" Rio laughs along with them. “No one is stealing anyone’s father tonight, boys. Come on now,”

“I’m saying!” Miles offers anyways.

“I’m good,” G replies good-naturedly.

“Hold on, you two are not saying what I think you’re saying,” Jeff finally catches up to speed.

The whole room laughs at that, joy and comfort palpable in the air as the family settles down after bantering some more. They pass the bowls of popcorn and watch their movie, commenting on terrible acting and cackling at bad jokes.

G settles down, really relaxing this time, as he sinks deeper into the comfortable couch cushions and basks in the normalcy of this life. He was grateful the family didn’t make him feel like he was a guest, or an intruder into their seemingly perfect lives of familial affection. This was a million times better than awkward happy birthday songs and loud music,. It was much more… intimate. Intimate in ways that G himself hadn’t been allowed to feel since his own father’s passing.

He was grateful that his own dimensional variant understood what it was that he could handle, and what he couldn’t, completely judgement-free. It left a warm feeling deep in his chest he hadn’t ever known he was even capable of feeling. Maybe that was Miles’ real gift to G, the perfect environment for anyone to be able to let their walls down, even just a little.

It made the homemade sketchbook as his gift to his twin seem so silly in comparison, in the end. Oh well.

The night ended wonderfully, with each parent getting G his own gifts on top of the one Miles dumped unceremoniously in his lap towards the end of his visit.

But it was getting late, and the night was getting progressively darker.

The nighttime wasn’t nearly as suffocating and all-encompassing as Earth-42’s nights, especially considering it was a clear and crisp night on 1610, the total opposite of the angry weather back home… but the hour was getting longer nonetheless and G’s tranquil visit to this dimension was drawing to a close.

“I wish you could sleep over this time, y’know. Kind of a bummer that you can’t”, Miles bumped shoulders with G as they sat side-by-side on the couch.

“Mmmn, yeah” G sighed.

“Hold on, what am I missing here? I thought he was going to stay tonight!” Rio pipes up from her end of the couch, brow raised.

G looks up at her. “Uhh, no. I have, uh, I have a thing… in the morning, with uncle Aaron. So,”

Jeff grunts disapprovingly, earning him a glare from Miles.

Miles then turns back to his twin. “It’s fine, we get it. Let’s try to make some more time in the future to hang soon, though, right? This was fun!”

They both smile at each other and then start to get up, gathering discarded wrapping paper from Miles opening his gift from G.

G himself tries tucking his unopened presents into his light sweater, zipping it up and holding the boxes against him with crossed arms.

“If I don’t hold ‘em like this, they’ll go flying everywhere in the portal back home,” he explains to Miles’ parents.

Miles shoves his hands in his pockets and agrees that that's a great idea before suggesting they not open a portal in the middle of the living room where all of his birthday balloons and gifts were still in neat piles.

G finally bids everyone a good night before climbing up the final set of stairs up to the rooftop, with Miles right on his heels.

They dap each other up again and Miles eventually pulls G into a hug.

“Man, what you doin’ that soft shit for?” G ribs Miles playfully, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“I dunno, you look like you could use some soft shit after tonight. You looked like you didn’t even wanna leave my apartment,”

G rolls his eyes but concedes anyways. “Uh huh, yeah… shit was nice there, for a second… things were real nice.” He trails off, then gathers himself back up again. “Your dad was great back there, by the way. So… looks like your talk with him was good, it was effective.” He sniffed.

Miles purses his lips. “Hmmm, was he, though? He coulda been a little better, honestly.”

G shakes his head, laughing. “You need to stop being so hard on your parents, kid. They’re great. They are.”

“Yeah, I know. Your fam’s great, too, by the way. Let Aaron know that I really love his gift he left me the other day, when you get back,”

G does a double take. “That he-- that he left you? How? He’s got a watch now?”

“I think…? I think he stole yours, honestly, bro. Or… I dunno, knowing him, he might’ve already reverse engineered his own by now,” Miles offers a wincing shrug, chuckling a bit at the shocked expression on his own face standing a little ways away from him.

“Wh--! Goddamn. Well.” G sniffed again and fixed the hoodie of his sweater casually, adjusting the gifts inside. “Well, damn. Thanks for letting me know about that, I guess.”

Miles throws G a salute and steps back, right by the rooftop door and then G's suddenly reminded of his own mother most likely already asleep back home.

He loves 1610, sure, but in that very moment, his heart ached for his own-- definitely not perfect but-- comforting home.

He opens his portal behind him, purple neon rings and hazy blue light emitting from it, an occasional green static flickering in and out, and the smell of wet pavement and rain hits them both almost instantaneously. Potted plants, chairs and crates sat nearby start floating in the air.

Miles whistles low. “It’s raining back where you’re at, man. I’m jealous. You get to fall asleep to rain!”

G only shrugs, not wanting to let his twin know anything about his fear of storms. That was a topic that would have to brought up later. “You have a good night, too, man. You can look up rain sounds on Youtube if you need to,”

Miles huffs out a laugh. “You got jokes! Nice!”

“Always, genius. I always do. Take it easy, man.”

G steps backwards, his last sight of 1610 being his twin standing by the half-open door to the roof, warm hallway light illuminating him from behind, small pinpricks of little sparkles in the deep blue night sky high above them…

And lands right onto his own bed.

G gasps, not possibly believing his own luck this time!

He scrambles around in the dark as quietly as he can, reaching for his lamp by his drafting table and flicking it on. His eyes bounce around the room, taking in every single little familiar detail of his posters, hats lined above the window frame, record player on top of stacked crates in the corner…

It’s home. Thank goodness. No need to traverse the dangerous roads at night past the state-mandated curfew.

Tonight was really shaping up to be an amazing night. What a relief…

Miles G laid back after eventually finishing his night routine and making sure his mother was asleep in her room, hopefully breathing. He had his arms behind his head and a big smile on his face as he thought back to the presents he received from the 1610 Morales family, now stacked neatly on his drafting table to be opened in the morning.

He thought back to the fond gazes he received at the dinner table as they had all chatted over pastelitos and refried beans. He thought back to the warm glow that the city took on during the sunset, how his train rides over to Brooklyn were always much less stress-inducing than the rides on Earth-42 were, no matter how late G was getting to be. He was unbelievably grateful that he got to experience it at all, and that it wasn’t all a fever dream his half-baked brain cooked up on little to no sleep.

No matter what his presents from the Morales family turned out to be, he was already grateful for the best gift that Earth-1610 could ever give him: peace.

[officiallygoblin]

I think what often misses the mark for me when consuming art and writing or just conceptualizing g/t media is the base experience/feelings evoked by g/t are very often overlooked/not captured by certain things for me. Like, for example, simply seeing my favorite character but big isn’t always going to hit the mark as would a scenario/scene/concept that captures this certain personal, inner sensory experience almost. Like g/t art that is very evocative is something that I really appreciate and enjoy, like, oh you get it, whether intentional/conscious or not.

I also have autism LOL