#walkmxn

██ ▓ └ ♔ ┐ ∎▀    

                 ;; they're each of them waiting under their  very   own hanging blade.                     this   girl   lives  off  her   myth,   drinks   her  blood, eats her own, &                     survives. narrative tempered by  time   until the sacrifice is beautiful                     & the knife is sharp; a story needs blood to become immortal, same                     as         a          saint        needs       fire       to        become      holy ;;

      ;; the cards are sitting right on  the  table waiting to be read but there’s no one there          to do it ; she takes the cards  off the mantel, where she left them; the fire is not yet          out, not while she lives and breathes in its presence; she blows soft into the flames          and it licks right back  up;   she  looks up at the man standing in front of her; brown          haired            &       cocky ;          her smile         is        an              apple         slice ;;

Peter Quil frustrated by losing a board game or card game to Rocket Raccoon.

( fetus peter and porn. that sentence was wild from start to finish )

            ❝ ------ are you alright?❞

      one might mistake the inquiry with genuine

      concern, when really the star-lord's well

      being was not a priority. rather, she worried

      for her own condition. how his erratic

      navigation of the star ship could land them

                            Peter’s lower lip jutted outward at the                             mention of father.Dad. A man who he has                         never seen nor known, though there were some                         nights that he desperately wanted to, to the point                         where it left him feeling angrier than ever. Other                         kids had dad’s — ones they could see, or talk about.                         Grandad didn’t like talking about him, and Mom only                         ever made it sound like he was the greatest thing to                         ever walk the earth.

                  He met his Mother’s eyes, briefly, before dropping                   his gaze back into his lap. ❝You really think I’ll                   meet him one day?❞ That didn’t count as looking                   in the past, right?

                            A happy smile lightened up her face,                             the mere thought of J'son was enough to bring                             life to her dying body and Peter was the fruit of                             their love. She had heard people saying things                             like that before and it always sounded like some                             cheesy surreal thing to say but she knew now                             how true it was. Having a child was her greatest                               achievement, her fingers weakly tightened around                             his forearm to caress the skin there admiring the                             wonderful person she had created.