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there’s nothing about this that i don’t absolutely adore.

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madehiswar:

❛  then i’m sad to note my bike is currently out of operation.  ❜  it’s actually in pieces somewhere on the west side of queens. probably been disassembled into the scrap metal now. shame; it ran good, but the situation got too sticky for him and sentimental qualities were sacrificed. 

there’s a smile somewhere in the hard press of his lips, and it tucks into the corner of his mouth. just barely. a hint of something more, of a fondness he feels for the red head but —— it’s quick to fall when pepper’s arm stretches out and rides up her sleeve. purple mottles the pale skin; BRUISING.

                he catches her wrist before she grabs the cup, and turns it over with a careful eye and knitted brows.   ❛  what’s this ??  ❜

❛  i‘m sure tony will be elated to hear.  ❜  the truth that fuels their banter is truly tragic. and yet the realization that frank is filling more nooks and crannies of the ‘bad boy’ motif is all too amusing to be ignored. her eyes lid and linger a little too long as she humours herself with a mental image --- one that’s shattered suddenly.

she lifts, leans forward and raises slightly from her seat as if preparing to be dragged over the polished surface.  ❛  sore.  ❜   as if that’s going to be enough of an out to earn the ease of his grip ( and attention ).

she doesn’t OWE him an explanation and yet she feels obligated to clear the air --- of what, she’s unsure.  ❛  i was speaking with tony while he was making adjustments to his gauntlets, my heel slipped, and despite his equipment he attempted to catch me.  ❜  a partial lie does less damage then a whole truth. pepper slipping in heels is like clint missing a shot. tony stepped out of line and hostile argument emerged from a crossed line.

               her free hand lightly clasps around his own and gives it a pat. a silent reassurance that his concern inquiry has been appreciated. ❛  accidents happen, frank.  ❜

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mjalti:

I hate it when people ask “do you trust me” like …don’t call me out like that ……..the answer is no

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madehiswar:

hands that have snuffed. hands that have maimed. hands that have taken something sacred and ripped it into a profanity. they shouldn’t be allowed to hold a child, nor be trusted with that purity, but frank knows himself. he knows his motives better than anyone can claim, and when pepper hangs off him, so naive and bright, he can pretend his hands are clean. 

              ❛  we do a lot of stuff we don’t want to do.  ❜  all a matter of circumstances though. 

frank steers her around a corner, keeping closer to the shop windows and away from the crowds. it gives something for her attention span to get hooked on. 

❛  it seems like a long time, but it goes quick. i liked school.  ❜  a lifetime ago when assignments were procrastinated and punishments came from nuns with a wicked aim. his grades may have been high, and he never had a problem with a running mouth, but sometimes, SOMEHOW, he found himself rubbing at his knuckles and glaring down the sisters.

parents are GOD in the eyes of a child. they’re hands hold them from birth, cradle them through youth and guide them during trials and tribulations. they are untouchable from the horrors of the world, and yet pepper sees the bruises. has heard rattling in her father’s chest late at night. her first memory is feeling braille made of scar tissue along his skin that hold countless messages she’s too young to decipher.

her father is human and that’s fine for a child who is raised with no religious comparison. something that causes her to find comfort under his palm than an insistent need to please like her classmates do with their own parents. and yet despite her knowing her father is held no higher than anyone else, his statement has he nose crinkling.

               ❛  you went to school?  ❜  pepper pulls her nose from grazing the glass of the passing shops to give him a skeptical stare.

❛  if you like school why don’t you come with me when i go? if it goes fast then you should have time.  ❜ stated matter-of-factly, pepper gives herself a nod before coming to a halt at the cross walk.

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looks like i have 6 drafts left, all of which will be given a valient attempt at completion when i get home from work... tonight. late tonight (fuck). BUT I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN YOU GUYS.

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                      I got my mother’s good looks & my father’s GREAT RAGE

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          “ check again, sargent. i have a free period.” several. in fact, very few of the classes she attends are even mandatory. by school rule, all she has to do is show up ( eventually ).

                    “ ------ free as in ‘to leave campus’. nice try, though. valiant effort.”

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lowkey-playa:

I cannot stress this enough

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madehiswar:

         ❛  two-thirty ——  ❜  1430, he mentally adjusts. old habits, but he doesn’t need his daughter knowing the lingo.  ❛   —— is when i said i’ll be here, but there needs to be a little bit of elbow room.  ❜

a deeper, darker thought that’s been crossing his mind more lately whispers WHAT IF HE JUST NEVER COMES PERIOD. he’s had a chance to play father, and he certainly doesn’t deserve a second go around but —— that stubborn jut of her mouth, the fierce eyes, the freckles. every ounce of her mother. o’brien wouldn’t have wanted pepper to be fostered. 

❛  oh, is that so ??  ❜  there’s no smile on his face, but there’s a small one in his voice. reaching down and lightly nudging her shoulder, he guides her to start walking again. 

          ❛  mhmm.  ❜  she starts walking. silent cues are pepper’s native tongue, how she learned about the world through her father’s gestures and reactions towards it. then came grunting and finally the english language.

it’s not that her initial irritation was with her father’s tardiness. it was geared towards being alone. one of the  golden rules  is to stay inside, but that looses it’s appeal when pepper’s all that’s left. unless one were to consider the strange glances of leaving staff and the gossip of both her and her father and echo down the halls as company.

but she knows she should trust him. should listen to him and obey his guidelines because he’s the grown-up... and at the end of the day, on time or a tad late, he’s the  only one  who comes by to finally take her home.

❛  my reading partner, jimmy, has a brother who says that you gotta go to firteen more schools. i don’t wanna do that. so when we get home we can give my packpack to one of the  other  kids who needs it, ok?  ❜

reaching up, pepper’s hand slips into the caved cushion of franks. her fingers curl around to the outside of his palm until she’s anchored to the calloused cushion.

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Is this blog gonna become another AU blog? because I was looking forward to an actual Pepper

               “ ------ like mister castle says, ‘go to hell’. ”

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fromthetail:

             “s’not a kid jail !! if this w’kid jail it wou'be really bad.               there wou'be allimators an’ not trains.”

       a shrewd businessbaby; he more just wanted to link all his toy trains up and ride them through the canyon-sized fence to victory. and he couldn’t do that if m'th hoity called their parents any quicker.

           “what if it isn’ kid jail and your da’ is lookin’ for you ??

                            ——- we gotsa break out.”

         “ ------ we’ve been kidnapped?! ”

     this is MUCH worse than she thought. she can survive prison, her dad said she’s got ‘spunk’. everyone knows that’s what it takes to beat up bad guys. and yet wit and sass isn’t going to get her very far if they’re being held captive by those very villains.

          “ well what’er you waiting for?! open the gate before they come back! ”

     she’s not gunna sit here and wait to have her wonder woman backpack stomped on ( a true crime if there ever were one ) by the criminals keeping them here.

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madehiswar:

inhale. focus on the rattle of working lungs and not on the split ribs leaving buds of pain throughout his torso. they’ll be patched up soon, but there are other priorities dominating his thoughts and driving his feet quicker into the asphalt. his watch vibrates a silence alarm ( a shame he needs one now, but time slips by so quick now. as do the seasons apparently because when he exhales and spits out fog, he’s momentarily surprised by the drop in temperature ). 

he hopes he sent pepper off with an extra coat. 

rounding a corner, he spots the brightly colored mark of her backpack slipping around the school’s dumpster. it doesn’t take long to catch up to her after that.

                  ❛  didn’t i say to ALWAYS wait for me inside ??  ❜

adventure over. miss independence looks him up, a faint strain of guilt quickly masked with determination. the solid stance she takes is unintentional as the weigh of her bag makes leaning back to view his face a little too easy.

          ❛  didn’t you say two-firty?  ❜

                    ------ not that she can tell time, only that her father is the last of many.

she’s not one to sass the man, not intentionally or without child-like jest, but it’s one of those days. twelve of twenty-four hours that’s been occupied by schoolyard drama and assumed freedom that has pepper crossing her arms.

          ❛  --- i divided that i’m not going to school no more, anyway.  ❜

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bunchofrpmemes:

My muse knows how to…

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive stick | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give CPR | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electric drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump-start a car | roll their tongue | do magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read Morse code | pick a lock

Bold all that apply:

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@madehiswar

          sitting on the steps is getting her nowhere fast. every other child has long since scattered out of the doors behind her and climbed into cars of parents, brothers and sisters. her small frame is bursting with impatience. it’s not the first time her ride has been late --- it won’t be the last.

small hands shove herself off of chilled concrete. fine. she knows where home is ( it’s near a building, on a street ). backpack in tow, pepper descends from the school and away from whatever responsible adults are still on the clock.

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@fromthetail decided to watch the rugrats

                    “ thi’th i’th kid jail --- you can’t leave! my dad’th                      a polithe and he thayth that’th bad. ”

          it’s not a small jail for criminal children, it’s the lost and found near the rear entrance of the local mall --- but that’s not INTERESTING. that wasn’t something that conformed to a child’s imagination. no, this situation is life or death... probably.