#spidernior

Here’s from tonight’s drawstream on #twitch #twitchstreamer #drawstream #spidernior #cryptoapexlegends #awkwardsquirrel https://www.instagram.com/p/CHeB9lgD4N0/?igshid=1a7hknwzyqw32

Starting something new this year, doodling something, anything at all, every day. Some days might be very simple, others might have more detail. Depends on the day. 

would miles try to skateboard while swinging around? maybe so!

“What's blue?” Miles Morales blinked, the question completely catching him off-guard. It was a lazy Sunday morning in Miles’s universe. Peni had created a stable way for the Spider-Family, as she called them, to visit each other without the worry of decay and glitching. They took to the ability with vigor, not a single one of them stating that being near each other waned away the loneliness. Despite the free ability, however, Noir seemed to be the one who shied away the most. He would be caught taking the occasional short trip, visiting Aunt May the most as his had been killed long ago. May had taken to the late night visits with ease, knowing that while he seemed older due to his time being far behind the others, he was still a rather young Peter. Miles seemed to be the only other person Peter Benjamin had taken a liking to, often showing Miles tricks and ways to dispatch enemies. After some web training, the two had gotten some treats and were hanging out on some rooftop far over the city. Noir hadn’t said much until he asked about the color, studying his popsicle with intensity. “Are...are you asking me if your ice-cream is blue?” Miles questioned, the detective nodding. “I don’t know what blue is.” It was such a simple response, but to Miles it was disorienting. “Oh my god dude, do you not know what colors are?” Noir shook his head, raising his mask slightly higher so he could devour the melting treat. “Remember, in my world, there isn’t such a thing as color. Except for what I’ve been told is red.” The shudder that ran through Noir’s body could be misconstrued as the rush of cold from his treat. They both knew better. “Well…” Miles looked down, his blood-red symbol visible. “Oh my god, we all have red on our suits…” “Worry not Miles, I got used to it.” Noir assured him, lying through his teeth. In truth, seeing those blood-red suits every time he saw the others made him fearful. Color disoriented him every time he went to any of their universes, and sometimes he thought the suits were doused in blood. There were days he would wait for the others to sleep, checking their pulses before running a hand down their suits. Only once had his black glove returned with a splotch of red, a hidden wound on Peter B. sending him into a panic attack that he had run from the room to hide. “Hey, Peter? You there?” Blinking, Noir didn’t realize he had dropped his trash, hands clenched into fists. God, when did it get so hard to breathe? Miles seemed to just appear by his side, saying words Noir couldn’t understand. You’re dangerous for him. They’ll all die, and it’ll be your fault. Those negative thoughts, they were returning with a vengeance. Pathetic, a mere memory was sending him into a panic attack of all things, and in front of Miles. The thudding of his heart seemed to block out everything around him, Noir vaguely aware of Miles removing his mask. As if sensing that Peter was having trouble drawing in the air around them, Miles removed the detectives mask before he could utter a word of protest. Noir looked just like Peter B., were it not for the scars that littered his face. Living in a universe that had Nazi’s had to be tough, but Miles didn’t think it was enough to leave Peter covered in reminders of his job. “Look at me man, just focus on me ok?” The teenager said firmly, both hands on Peter’s shoulders. Peter Benjamin seemed to be trying to hold a passive face but was failing as he stared at Miles’s insignia for what seemed like hours. “Every time I come through that portal, I just see the red on your clothes.” He eventually rasped, digging through his coat to pull out a cracked set of round-rimmed glasses. They made him seem older once they were slipped on that grey face, Miles releasing the other and sitting beside him. “Would you believe that I get scared every damn time?” “Well...yea.” Miles nodded his head, scrunching up his face as Noir fished out a cigarette and his lighter. “I mean, we all have our triggers.” “Triggers?” Noir questioned, the lungful of nicotine doing much to steady his nerves. He turned so Miles didn’t have to deal with any of the smoke, watching the white cloud trail up until it dissipated. “Yea, stuff that makes you sad, or angry, or scared. You guys don’t know what mental health is, do you?” He wasn’t surprised at the shake of the head he received, another drag of the cigarette releasing more smoke. “Sorry son, we don’t deal much with the head. We deal with fightin’ for another day, another sunrise in a world running on pain and misery.” Miles frowned lightly, placing a hand on Noir’s shoulder. “Sorry kid, didn’t mean to drop it heavy on you.” “It’s okay, I know its rough for you.” Miles pat Noir’s shoulder comfortingly, before drawing back. “You okay now?” “Yea, thanks, kid.” He nodded, a wane smile on his face as he stubbed out his cigarette butt and flicked it expertly into the dumpster below them. For a few moments, they sat in silence, Peter taking in the rich unknown colors the sky displayed. “Want to learn about colors?” The question drew Peter’s gaze, a thin eyebrow arching up as Miles fished out a book from his bag. “Would you be willin’ to teach me?” He questioned, Miles flashing a bright smile as he opened up the book to one of his sketches. The intricate designs and the myriad of colors stole Peter’s breath away, the older man silent as Miles began to describe which color was which. For hours the two went through his sketchbook, Noir absolutely enraptured in the designs and neverending colors. It was rather saddening when it was time for Miles to return home, the setting sun turning the sky what he now knew as purple and pink. He was surprised, however, when his offer to return Miles’s book was denied. “Keep it, you need practice anyways.” The teen grinned, giving Peter Benjamin a hug before making his way into his house. The older Spiderman smiled before going up and out of sight, book tucked securely in his arms as he returned to his home. Noir went to his bedroom almost immediately, carefully taking pages from the sketchbook and sticking them up all around the grey office. The color was in such contrast it nearly hurt to look at, but the detective adjusted rather easily. After all, his Rubiks cube sat securely on his desk, still as bright as the day he had received it months back. For the first time in months, Peter smiled, settling on his desk chair and taking in the color on his walls. Those same colors seemed to keep the nightmares at bay, Noir drifting off with a soft snore and a faint smile on his lips.

I love this ❤️😍