#feat. peter

her lab wad dimly lit as she hummed along to the pounding bass that filled the space, the rhythm vibrating through her bones as she danced between countertops, mixing chemicals with an effortless fluidity. the loud thrum of the music was her favorite companion — loud enough to drown out everything else, to block the world from intruding on her concentration. the lab door creaked open, but tinsley didn’t hear it. she was too lost in the rhythm, too immersed in her creation. her fingers flicked the switch, mixing the chemicals with the precision of someone who’d done it a thousand times before. a soft fizz rose from the bubbling flask, and she hummed along with the music, blissfully unaware that someone had just stepped into her sanctuary. it wasn't until she turned around to grab another beaker that she saw him: she immediately tensed, glancing at him before simply grabbing her beaker and returning to her invention. please, please - just turn around and leave, peter.

𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕦𝕤 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕓𝕠𝕪𝕤 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕨𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣, 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕨𝕖 ?

@xlemonciel | Peter Parker.

Matthew Murdok no era un hombre que soliera actuar en exceso, sino sólo lo necesario. Precisamente de ello se intentaba convencer la tarde anterior, justo cuando pasaba su tarjeta de crédito y cancelaba la compra de un nuevo teléfono celular. No para él, por supuesto, sino para su provisional compañero de piso que parecía tener problemas al momento de comunicarse. “Llámame en casos de emergencia, nada más” advirtió. En general no le gustaba hacer uso de tecnologías como esas porque, aun con aplicaciones que le facilitaban el trabajo, la experiencia podía ser algo engorrosa.

Sin embargo, conocía lo suficiente de Peter Parker como para extrañarse de si mismo al haber confiado en él luego de hacer una advertencia. Peter no conocía de advertencias en su vida, y lo comprobó una vez más al recibir aquel mensaje prácticamente pidiendo atención.

[TEXT TO: Peter]            “ ¿Qué sucede? Estoy ocupado. “

war is kind + text messages (6/?)

Ned: You shoot me, and then, when my leg gets better, we buy a mansion, twelve Ferrari’s and a private plane.

Peter: You can shoot me too! Then we get twenty million dollars!

Ned: Good thinking. Fuck the system.

Tony: Is your car OK? I can help with any repairs.