#wallcrawld

❛ just one day i'd like to just put my feet up. throw on some HULU. drink one of those funny drinks with the little umbrella in it. but nope , here i am. woken up at , hang on ... ah. TWO IN THE MORNING. AGAIN. i hope you at least brought me coffee for dragging me out this early. you must SATE THE BEAST. smaug needs her gold , er , coffee. ❜

+ @wallcrawld asked: [ sing ] — sender sings a love song to receiver ( feel free to ignore this part but imagining late at night, slow dancing in the kitchen, both of them listening to music and peter singing to her as he spins her around, his soft laughter making him mess up the lyrics )

+ It was LATE ; the evening far enough along that the horizon was starting to show the faintest hints of DAWN just on the cusp of being born . But to the woman being SPUN around the kitchen , the soft BEAT of music filling the room just enough that it wouldn't bring COMPLAINTS from those sleeping the night away . Some would have said it was clear the couple had been DRINKING , but the HIGH that Mary Jane felt filling every inch of her body was the result of nothing but EUPHORIA from the shared dance and song .

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐀 [ . . . ] 𝟗𝟔% { ( 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐥=𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 ) ; }

△ greet 〇 ignore {enter.option=△}

@wallcrawld: "take a deep breath, okay, I'm going to help."

shame. it’s a newer feeling growing in liam when it comes to asking for help. they didn’t use to be so stubborn— learning to be spider-man alongside roxy meant getting good at that sort of thing. it meant helping roxy get better, because liam was never that bad at asking for help, despite being as independent as they were. on this stint, alone in the multiverse, she doesn’t even know who there is to ask for help from. every face and name she knows doesn’t know her.

but liam isn’t thinking about the ways she’s changed from the expedition, or how they might get how roxy feels, or that there’s no reason to fear asking for help when nobody’s going to remember you. liam’s thinking about how breathing is HARD and their leg HURTS like a motherfucker. listening to the other, they take the deep breath anyways.

just as jyn's about to leave the ship, an armory's worth of weapons strapped to her body, parker's voice calls out behind her. she pauses on the loading ramp, eyes narrowing, then slowly turning to face him. the kid stares down at her eagerly, practically bouncing on his toes, albeit a bit disappointed at the anticipated outcome of being left behind once again. " you didn't get enough action last time, kid ? " she says, quirking an amused brow. she is, of course, referring to their last operation when she'd returned to the ship and found half a dozen 'troopers scattered all over the place. she hadn't seen the kid at first and she'd scrambled for her blaster, heart pounding in her chest, thinking the worst –– and then he'd rounded the corner with a big, goofy smile on his face.

even though there's a refusal on her lips, for some reason, she pauses. maybe it's that his words remind of things she'd rather leave in the cave in her mind. ( just one night. he'll be back in the morning. you've survived worse. he wouldn't leave you behind. ) while she dislikes even amusing the possibility –– an unexperienced recruit will only slow her down –– he's clearly proved that he can take care of himself. and stars, she's always had a soft spot for people like him.

she doesn't have a quip for him. no witty remark, no sass. sometimes the siren is just a girl, broken and lonely like the rest of them. lorelai hugs one knee to her chest, lets her other leg dangle off the edge of the concrete, foot grazing the top of the water. she can see her reflection, shifting and hazy. she disturbs it further, obscures herself from view.