#but my favorite memories of singing were my class as kids on the bus

[paroxysmaljune]

suddenly overcome with the desire to sing with other people

[aizenat]

I am actually like full body crying rn. I’m not even exaggerating. Like never have I felt this way about hearing about a stranger’s death and like it’s really making me think of how so much about what moves me and motivated me started with dragon ball z. My love for writing wouldn’t exist without it.

I remember being a kid watching sailor moon and dbz in the mornings waiting for my bus for school. I remember singing rock the dragon when I wanted to ignore annoying girls in my class lol. I always credited sailor moon with what got me into anime (because I loved it more lol), but dbz specifically got me into anime.

In fourth grade, a new kid in my class sat next to me and had a picture of the dbz characters on his binder. I hadn’t seen dragon ball in years so when I saw it I said “Hey I know that show!” In typical boy fashion, he couldn’t believe a girl was into dbz. So he went through pointing at all the characters asking who they were. I knew them all and eventually he realized I knew. I could tell at a point that he was just asking just to go through them all. But he finally pointed to someone I didn’t know, and I thought hard but knew I didn’t know this character.

“Who is that?”

“That’s Trunks! He’s Vegeta and Bulma’s son!”

“What? But he’s older than Gohan! How?”

“Aw man, are you not watching it right now?”

“Watch it? Where? When?”

“After school on Cartoon Network! They play this and a lot of other shows like this!”

We didn’t even know what anime was.

I found toonami thanks to me recognizing those dragon ball characters. And from there, I was reunited with Sailor Moon and picked up some new favorite watches. Tenchi Muuyo, Outlaw Star, Rurounin Kenshin, etc. So many and I loved them all!

If it weren’t for dbz, Yu Yu Hakusho probably wouldn’t exist. When YYH finally made its way on toonami, I was HOOKED. It was literally the perfect show to me. I was so hype over it that I tried to write fanfiction at 12 following Yusuke’s daughter as a spirit detective.

I ran into a problem though: I wanted his daughter to be Black like me. So I decided to make her a half Black half Japanese girl whose mother was a demon Yusuke cheated on Keiko with (to justify why she was Black). And she was in Japan to find her father but got caught up in spirit world stuff.

But I ran into a major issue with this: I loved Keiko and I loved Yusuke and Keiko as a couple and couldn’t ever see Yusuke cheating on her (still can’t). So I was stuck with how to justify this story.

That was when I got the idea to write my OWN story. One similar to YYH, but different, with my own characters and own world where things would be different but similar enough to not be too messy lol. At 12, I started to write my first story because I couldn’t write YYH fanfiction without it fucking up the canon (knowing this, you can probably guess why I don’t have a lot of respect for fanfiction lol).

I wouldn’t have gotten into YYH if I hadn’t learned DBZ was airing new episodes on toonami back in the fourth grade.

My love for anime grew, my love for storytelling grew, and my love for writing grew. The latter of which has saved my life more times than I can count.

Sean Schemmel, the voice for Goku in the most well known English dub, was the first American voice actor whose name I committed to memory. Chris Sabat, the voice of Vegeta and Piccolo and others, was the second. After finding yugioh abridged in hs, I got into TeamFourStar’s dragon ball z abridged and fell in love with the show for a second time. I’ve followed those guys for years watching the series, and I still return to it for an easy watch. In fact, Lanipator and KaiserNeko, two of the creators of the series, had a series last year on their second channel going through the show and giving their commentary. I would pop a delta gummy and enjoy the revisits every Saturday. It just wrapped up around the holidays. And while Ygotas started the abridging trend, lbr, dbza perfected it. And all the following abridged and parody videos that exist online wouldn’t without it.

Rdc world and their popular anime house series features Goku and Vegeta. The Piccolo is a nigga memes. How Broly coming out a few years ago was like a major moment for anime fans. You know you got a real friend when you’re doing the fusion dance with them. And what anime fan hasn’t pretended to do a Kamehameha wave at least once? I sat front row at a panel where Sonny Strait (Krillin’s va) played Dragonball Evolution (lol) and just straight ripped on it the entire time.

God, I remember watching that movie for the first time in a friend’s basement and when Emmy Rossum came on scene for the first time, I asked who she was supposed to be. And I’ll never forget the serious face on my one friend as he turned to be and said as though it was the most logical thing ever “It’s Bulma. Can’t you tell by the steak of blue in her hair?” I laughed so hard! Lol

My uncles watched dragon ball. One watched the original back in the 80s when you could only get the original Japanese bootlegged. My brother who went to art school and has a degree in animation started drawing by trying to draw dbz characters. For YEARS, until he went to art school honestly, his art style was insanely reminiscent of dbz, especially with how he drew clothes lol. I used to yell at him to stop drawing like Akira Toriyama and make his own style.

This man and the impact he had on anime as a whole, how dbz is the most mainstream anime to ever exist, and even in my own personal life: I didn’t realize until now that I’m thinking on it how influential he was. If he and dragon ball didn’t exist, my life would be vastly different. *I* would be vastly different. And that honestly scares me because I don’t know who I’d be without it.

So yeah for the first time in my entire life, I am fully sobbing and crying the death of a celebrity. I used to think people who did this were overly invested idiots, but I get it now. Because I never considered myself invested in dbz. It was just some anime I watched as a kid and remembered fondly. I don’t watch Super, and I’m a pretty casual fan of the story I feel.

But Akira Toriyama, the man behind the story, and the impact of that story, can’t be understated. I can’t deny that even in my personal life, everything he created helped shaped the world that inspired me. That moved me and motivated me. That kept me going all the times I wanted to give up. And that made me brave enough to tell stories myself in my way, the way he did in his.

Idek how to end this because the tears are starting again and I just don’t want this to be true. I just wanted to get it out somehow and yeah…

Holy fuck I’m in shock. What do you mean Akira Toriyama passed away??!!!!!

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Too Smart for Your Own Good: Part 8

Pairings: (Past) Machine Gun Kelly x Reader, (Past) Henry Cavill x Reader, Chibs x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, PTSD, abandonment, another dick move on Henry’s part.

Word Count: 6,114

A/N: Doesn’t have a completed end yet, but just giving you more content to try to get myself out of a writing funk.

A/N 2: Yea, I had fun with this one. Sorry, not sorry.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Negan had seen you pissed before, hell, he’d seen you down right livid. But he had never, ever seen you so furious you refused to even talk to him. He looked over at you with a small, tight smile as you walked into your messy kitchen, but you didn’t even glance at him as you bee lined past him to grab two coffee mugs from the cabinet.

“Morning, princess.” He dared, but he instantly shut up when you shot him a look that spoke volumes. “(Y/N)...”

“Save it.” You grumbled as you grabbed two K cups from the box on the counter and picked up the entire Keurig as silent punishment. He sighed loudly as you walked back out of the room past Simon, who took one look at the coffee maker in your arms and over at the spot it lived in on your counter, before shaking his head.

“Does the other house have a coffee pot still, or did she take that, too?” He asked with a glance to his boss, who was watching you walk up the stairs back to your room without a second glance.

“I fucked up with her, didn’t I?” You heard Negan ask his second in command before you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you.

“Ye took the whole damn thing?” Chibs whisper yelled as you headed into the bathroom to set the Keurig down.

“There’s a pot in the carriage house.” You said back with a shrug as you plugged your machine in. “I don’t feel sorry for them.”

“Cold hearted.” He chuckled as he made sure the pillows were all around the co sleeper and that Celeste was OK before coming into the bathroom. “No cream?”

“You get it black, or you can go down and deal with my father to get it, your call.”

“Yea, I’m no’ goin’ down ta flaunt the fact tha’ I stayed ‘ere over nigh’ to ‘im anytime soon.” He sighed as he partially closed the water closet door to use the bathroom.

“If it helps at all, he now knows better than to lay so much as a finger on you.”

“It does not.”

“Well you don’t have to see him for a week anyways, so it’s fine.” You said as you stepped over to turn on the shower while the first cup was brewing. “Besides, I need an escort through IRA territory and I’m not trusting my daughter’s life to a prospect. I have a lot of errands to do in the next couple days...”

“Luv...” You looked over at him with your eyebrow raised before following his gaze down to the tattoo on your rib cage that no one but him would know the true meaning of just by looking at it. He smirked as you moved your arm out of the way, and shook his head. “Ye did say ye’d never let me live it down...”

“You tore apart my garden for those lilacs, Filip.” You giggled as you looked at the bouquet of purple flowers in a metal milk can with a tartan patterned bow around it that represented his last name.

“Couldn’t show up empty ‘anded now, could I?”

“No, that wouldn’t have been right.” You whispered even softer as he stepped forward to brush his thumb across the bow.

“Does yer da’...”

“No one knows what it means.” You said with a shake of your head as you shivered from the goosebumps racing across your skin. “Negan asked if it was for my mom when he first saw it because lilacs were her favorite too, and I just nodded and walked away.”

“It’s beautiful.” He said with a glance up at you. “Much more elegant than mine.”

“You got a tattoo for me?”

“Subtle.” He said as he held up his left hand and stuck out his ring finger. “Black band, but your name wore off the side.”

“You’re so cute.” You giggled as you ran your fingertip across what was left of your name. “Who did it? Because that would have gotten back to Negan...”

“I did.” He said as he looked at the left over ink. “Did a stint in prison for possession seven or eight years back. Anniversary’a the last time I saw ye. Took all nigh’ bu’ I needed the pain.”

“We’ll get it re done soon if you want.” You promised as you turned on the water and stepped inside. “Coming? We have a lot of things to do today.”

“So no time for a quickie?” He teased before taking a sip of his coffee, starting yours, and stepping out of his boxers.

“What kinda girl do you think I am?” You teased as you shook an old, nearly empty bottle of shampoo to finish it off. “I wasn’t that easy back then, and as a mother and a woman of class...”

“Oh, shut it.” He laughed as he wrapped his arms your waist and pulled you into his chest. He kissed you gently as you went from washing your hair to washing his, just appreciating being together again. You couldn’t stop your mind from racing in a thousand different directions as he gently lifted you up and pinned you against the wall to slide into you, but by the time you both came, you realized that for the first in twelve years you truly felt safe. You felt at home.

“I still love you.” You said softly as you laid your head down on his chest. “I never stopped…”

“Was I supposed ta stop lovin’ ye?” He asked as he ran his fingers through your hair. “‘Cause even after all the shite I went through, I’d do it all over ‘gain to ‘ave ye in m’life.”

“You can protect me from the big bad world.” You said with a smile as you looked up at him. “I’ll protect you from Negan.”

“I may actually let ye do tha’, lass.” He said as he quickly washed his body off and stepped out of the way for you. “Yer da’s terrifyin’ when it comes ta ye.”

“My dad may think he’s a hard ass, but that man knows that I’m the one in charge no matter how much he doesn’t want to admit it. And he also knows at this point, now that he knows I know what he did, if he so much as lays a finger on you, I’m done... permanently. So being with me is as safe as you’ll ever be when it comes to my dad.”

“Tha’s somethin’ I’m really nervous ta test.”

“I can solve it today.” You said with a bob of your head as you turned off the water. “Because while I know he will never, ever admit it to anyone, possibly including me, he regrets what he did now that he’s been busted for it. And he didn’t feel shame for it until he saw the look in my eyes. Because it’s a look that instantly reminded him of my mom, and I know he can hear her freaking out at him in his memories.”

“It’s so strange ta see ‘im through yer eyes, my luv.” He huffed as he grabbed his coffee and went out to throw his clothes on from the day before. “Instead of as m’President.”

“Yea, it’s still entertaining to see him try to be ‘big bad Negan’ all these years later when I know the softie he can be since I actually remember it from when I was a kid… shit, I really don’t wanna wake her up…”

“Rip off the bandaid.”

“But she’s so cute…”

“Rip off the bandaid.” He repeated as he fastened his belt. “Ye said ye had a lot ta do, an’ tha’ ye wan’ed ‘er on Belfast time.”

“Son of a bitch.” You grumbled as you threw on a nursing tank, and a big, loose sweater over your leggings. You grabbed something cute for Celeste, that would keep her warm through out the day, and pouted at her as you kneeled on the bed and simply picked her up. “Oh, Mommy’s sorry.” You cooed as she instantly started to whine in sheer exhaustion. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know.”

“She’s cute until she screams.” Chibs teased as he sat down on the bed to put his boots on. “Then she just reminds me of you.”

“Fuck you.” You said in a sing song voice. He chuckled and threw on his kutte before putting her car seat on the bed for you. “Yes, I know, Mommy’s mean. But you can sleep in the car, baby girl.”

“I’m guessin’ yer kidnappin’ me like old times?” He asked as he took the dirty diaper from you and got up to toss it in the diaper genie you had put in your bathroom the night before.

“Well obviously, I’m a defenseless first time Mommy that needs a big strong man to protect her and her adorable little girl.”

“Well now I jus’ ‘ave ta protect such a beautiful woman, and this cute little screamin’ bundle’a joy.”

“Oh, we are as much of a morning person as Mommy is.” You said as you grabbed his hand and put it on her stomach so you could pack your diaper bag for what you needed for the day.

“Oh, we’re jus’ no’ ‘avin’ a good mornin’.” He said as he picked her up and walked over to your bedroom window. He talked to her like he had known her throughout your whole pregnancy and her whole, short existence, instead of only a few hours. He got her to sniffle her way to a comfortable spot on his shoulder as you took out what you didn’t need and replaced what you needed to. You silently glared at him as his humming put her right back to sleep, and he moved at nearly a glacial pace to lay her down in the carseat. “I’m good wit’ kids.”

“Fuck outta here.” You huffed as you threw on your boots and grabbed your diaper bag and coffee. “Alright, you carry her. He’s less likely to hit you if you’re holding her.”

“No’ reassuring.” He muttered as he checked his pockets to make sure he had everything, before putting the car seat down just long enough to put his gun in the holder under his kutte. “Safety’s on, don’ worry.” With a roll of your head, you threw your bag on your shoulder, and lead him out the room with a sigh.

“Telford!” Negan yelled the moment you walked out the door, but you could see the flash of fear in his eyes when he realized you were headed straight for him.

“You have two choices here.” You said where only he could hear you as you stopped directly beside him, but looking out at the lake behind him. “You have the choice to try to take him out of my life for whatever fucking reason you could come up with. Or you have the choice to be my fucking father and fight for me to be happy with someone with as good of heart as he has to step up and protect my daughter the same way you protected me after everything I’ve been through. And we both know he wouldn’t have patched if he wasn’t a good person.” You glanced up at him with tears in your eyes, and you could see your dad, the man that only you really got to see looking back at you. 

“Just know, I won’t stop fighting for him this time. You got lucky with Henry falling in my lap at just the right time and my research taking off the way it did. But you won’t be this time. And keep in mind, he and I both have to live with the physical proof of what you’ve done to us for the rest of our lives which is exactly why I can honestly say that if you try, you will lose everything. So you make the choice.” You looked back out at the lake with a sniff as you put your sunglasses on, while Negan took barely a half second to weight the options of loosing you, or seeing you with Chibs before he straightened beside you.

“Telford, get that baby outta the fucking cold. The fuck you standing there for, huh? And make sure my kid doesn’t get lost in some Goddamn throw pillows or whatever shit she’s got planned in that fucking head of hers for this place. Or better yet, make sure that she doesn’t lose her damn kid in throw pillows.” You nodded your head and went to walk away, but Negan quickly grabbed your arm and held you in one spot. You met his eyes for a few moments, letting him apologize ten times over in a simple look, and you choose to partially let him off the hook.

“Get the fucking prospects to return those vans before you get charged another day’s rental. We’ll talk later.” He nodded his head and leaned over to kiss your forehead, before letting you go to yell at the prospects and regain his control of his men.

“Wha’ did ye say ta ‘im?” Chibs asked softly as you set your diaper bag on the floor board and peeked in the back to make sure the only thing that was back there was your stroller frame.

“I told him to make a choice.” You said as you carefully shut the back door, and pulled open the passenger door. “And he made the right one.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This place looks like it fucking threw up Christmas.” Your dad grumbled to you with a shake of his head as you walked through your professionally decorated house after spending a week on the road dealing with some club shit you didn’t even care to ask about.

“It’s Celeste’s first Christmas.” You started as you looked at the sparkling entry way proudly. “And our first one not spent in a portable in years. And you know I love Christmas. Oh, and I finally got confirmation that Colson, Casie, and Emma are coming for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so it had to be even more perfect. Ash and Ashton, too.”

“You got the fucking prospects to do all this shit?”

“Fuck no.” You laughed with a shake of your head. “I hired a company. The prospects are wrapping gifts in the carriage house because fuck knows I hate doing that shit. Paper cuts.” You said with a smirk as you looked over at him. “Not pleasant. They can do the bitch work.”

“Where’s Telford?”

“Why?” You asked as the smile fell from your face.

“Need to talk to him... and you, since I know you will never trust me in a room with him again.”

“With good reason.” You said as you gestured to the stairs. “Setting up my baby monitors in the nursery while Celeste tries out her new crib for nap time. Oh, Ash is heading over to the house later today to send me some shit I need to hang out here a while longer. Do you need anything?”

“I’m heading back day after New Years.” He said with a shake of his head and a heartbroken sigh. “I lost you because of this, didn’t I?” You hesitated for a moment and sighed loudly with a small nod of your head.

“You changed my whole life with your actions, Daddy. And his even more so. You may be the president of an MC, but you are still my father. And whether you liked it or not, you had no right to do what you did, no matter what the reason. Whether it be to keep ahold of your image, or to keep me closer to home, it doesn’t matter. You had no right. So yes, in a sense, you lost me- my trust is gone. But you are still my father, and I will always love you. So in that sense, I will still be here. You’ll see me, and Celeste, and I will always be here if you need me... but we will never have the same relationship we did because of this.” You looked over at him as a few tears fell from his eyes, and his sighed as his whole body sank with the weight of his actions.

“Your mother would be so proud of you.” He started as he looked over at you with a shake of his head. “But I would have lost her over this, too, so I understand.” As gently as he could, he reached out to pull you into a hug. “I’m sorry, princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know, Daddy.” You whispered back as you started to tear up as well. You both stood there for a moment, completely ignoring Simon, and the Belfast charter’s president, Jax when they walked in to talk to him, but they turned right back around to give you your space as Negan pulled away and nodded his head.

“Can I go talk to him?” He asked as he wiped off his face. “I’ll leave my gun with you, if that makes you more comfortable.”

“I’ll come up with you.” You said as you wiped off your own face with your fingertips. “You can use my room while I get Celeste up from her nap so we can go find a caterer last minute for Christmas Eve. And the gun can stay in the hall.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He agreed before gesturing you toward the stairs. You headed through the new baby gate, and up the right side of the split staircase toward the only two rooms on that end of the house, before telling Negan to wait in the hall so you could pre-warn Chibs.

“Hey, my dad wants to talk to you.” His head whipped away from his phone where he was adjusting the views of the cameras, but you nodded at him, reassuringly. “It’s OK. His gun’s staying in the hall. It’s not a bad talk, I promise.”

“‘S’more the knives tha’ got my concern.” He said as he picked up a piece of paper with the app information. “Username is yer email, password’s Celeste123107.”

“You think you’re slick.” You laughed, since the date was the day you two met.

“I thought so.” He said with a small smile as he headed out of the room, stepping over the hand gun that was laying just outside the doorway. You added the app to your phone and signed into your account to check the cameras yourself while the two men went into your room to talk, before walking over to the bed to wake up your baby girl.

“Hello, punk-a-pie.” You cooed as you gently rubbed her back. “Hi, good morning. It’s time to join the world of the living so we can go for another fun adventure. Yea.” She actually grunted at you in protest when you picked her up, and you smiled at just how adorable she was. “Oh, I know it. It’s just so hard to be a baby with such a mean Mommy. Waking you up from naps, and feeding you, and changing you all the time. How could I be so thoughtless, hmm? But that means I get to eat these chunky little thighs. And theses cute little toes-ies.” You smiled as she burst into a fit of giggles on the changing pad when you playfully ‘bit’ her toes. “Oh, I could just eat you up! Yes I could. Fuck, I’m glad you got Mommy’s chunky thighs. They are just so damn cute.”

“I second that.” Chibs said as he walked back into the room a lot faster than you expected, while Negan simply headed down stairs to find out what Simon and Jax wanted. You looked over at him questioningly as you pushed the dirty diaper into the diaper pail, but he shook his head. “Nothin’ bad. Apologized for everythin’, gave me direct permission ta go Nomad a’while ta be wit’ you. Told me ta take care of his girls.”

“He knows he lost me.” You said with a nod as you re-buttoned the long sleeve onesie and put your daughter’s jeans back on. “He knows there’s no coming back from this now. He made his bed, and he has to sleep in it and what are you doing?!”

“I bought this for ye 12 years ago.” He said as he stood beside you at the changing table where you were now frozen half way of putting Celeste in her jacket to look at a gorgeous ring in a black box. “An’ the day aft’a ye came back, when I knew ye still luved me, too, I ‘ad the prospect start puttin’ t’get’a the legal paperwork for the courts. Because I lost ye once, an’ I’d rath’a die then lose ye ‘gain. So on New Years Eve, at the exact stroke of midnight, 12 long fuckin’ years aft’a it shoulda ‘appended in the first place, will ye please, please make me the luckiest son’ov’a bitch in the entire world an’ marry...”

“Yes.”

“Can I fuckin’ finish the...”

“No.” You laughed as you leaned over and kissed him roughly. He smiled against your lips and held you in place for a moment, before pulling back with a shake of his head.

“I was gon’ wait until the day of.” He said as he pulled the ring free while you finished dressing your now impatient daughter. “But wit’ yer dad’s blessin’... shockin’, I know.” He laughed as he took your left hand and slid the ring in place. “But we ‘ave it. An’ I wasn’t waitin’ another moment.”

“I don’t blame you.” You laughed as you looked at the ring that felt so much more right than the last one that was placed there, before showing Celeste with a smile. “Look at that, baby girl. Mommy’s getting married. And if he wants to, Chibs can become Daddy all in the same swing.”

“I’d be honored.” You nodded over at him with a laugh as you put on Celeste’s ear warmer headband bow.

“We’re just gunna wait until after Christmas to let her birth father know that all the same.”

“Aye. Don’ feel like havin’ ta fight for both m’girls in the same month.”

“What would you have done if he had said no?” Your fiancé smirked as he checked your diaper bag for you and put it on his shoulder.

“We would’a eloped. But now, ‘e can bear witness, ‘long wit’ Jackie boy, an’ this little chubby thighed cutie.”

“Well now you’ve just sent me into overdrive.” You laughed as you buckled Celeste in her car seat, and wrapped her in the car seat blanket you had. “Because now, after the caterer, I need to find a dress, and a location...”

“I’ve it all figured out.” He interrupted as he took the car seat from you. “Except the dress. My club may be loyal ta Negan, but I’ve broth’a’s a’ the table tha’ want ta see a broth’a happy ‘a the end’a the day.”

“Well then you can come with me to the caterer, then I’ll drop you and Celeste back off so you don’t see me in the dress. We’ve finally got some good luck going for us here.”

“Sounds like a plan ta me, my luv. Sounds like a plan to me.”

——

You had always imagined that you would be nervous on your wedding day, but as you stood in a private room in a church of all places that meant a lot to your future husband, you didn’t feel anything but excited. You tried to keep everything simple, but still put the prospects and your decorating company through the ringer to pull off a dream shared across cotton sheets that Chibs insisted you deserved, and had already been planning as long as he had the paperwork to pull off, even if it was for the ranks of the Sanctuary’s unwashed heathens.

“You know, I never thought you’d actually get to this point.” Ashleigh said as she adjusted her silver dress around her hips. “I figured when you got engaged to Henry, you were gunna get to the actual planning of the wedding and just… not. And I definitely didn’t think you’d do it this fast.”

“Henry isn’t my Filip.” You said with a look over at her as you finished a braid of your updo and pinned it on to place. 

“Yea, but don’t you think this is a little fast?”

“Ash, I really wish I could explain this… Look, I loved Henry. I did. He was smart, and, funny, and kind. He supported my work, and didn’t mind my eccentricities… but he tried to change me. He tried to pull me away from my dad, to get me away from my club. He wanted us to move to England… and all of those things I would have considered because he made me feel comfortable. But then he took it upon himself to join the Army without a single word until the day he left, and he made that choice because he needed space to think things with me through. Yea, the things you learn after the fact. That was a nice ‘good to see ya after six years’ message.

But Filip, my Filip, the one that got away… He makes me feel safe. He makes me feel safe to let my guard down, and to not be this… always put together Nobel prize winning, Ph. D. three times over doctor all the time. He brings out an innocence that I’ve never gotten to experience because I was looking out for my dad, or drowning myself in my work, or because I was more focused on being the best astrophysicist this world had ever seen. He makes me laugh harder than anyone ever has in my life. He doesn’t just mind my eccentricities, he embraces them, and shows them off like a badge of honor. He doesn’t just make excuses for those times I have my ‘moments’ as Henry called them in public. He sacrificed being truly happy in life to make sure that I had the best life that I could. And I can’t lose that man from my life again. I can live without Henry. I can’t live without Filip.” You smiled as you picked up your silver and ice blue snowflake hair piece and turned in the mirror to see what you were doing to put it on. “And besides the fact, he hasn’t batted an eye over Celeste. Henry literally ran, and put her in the NICU for a month.”

“OK, he didn’t put her in the NICU.”

“He put me in a position that put her in the NICU.” You said as you glanced over at the clock. “But it doesn’t matter. None of that matters anymore. What matters is that the man that I was meant to be with years ago, is somewhere in this church, putting on a tie for me, and a suit that he wouldn’t be caught dead in otherwise for me, and has me excited to get married in a church of all places, without even questioning ‘God’ and all that entails. What matters is he is the love of my life… and after today, he will be mine.” Ash nodded her head slowly as she fixed your hair the slightest bit and tried to avoid eye contact in the mirror.

“(Y/N), I think...”

“Hey, Princess. You’re runnin’…” Negan interrupted as he knocked on the door while he pushed it open, and he stopped and smiled as he looked at you. “Well Goddamn.”

“You’re in a church, mister.” You reminded him, teasingly as you turned and pulled the mostly white, with a double layer of light blue tulle skirt around so it was straighter behind you. “Not supposed to swear in a church.”

“Yea, yea.” He grumbled. “Old, new, borrowed, blue, right?”

“I’ve got ‘em all covered, Daddy.” You said as you watched him walk over with something in his hand.

“Well I’m still replacing your old with mine.” He said as he held out his hand to you. Your brow furrowed until you saw the glimpse of a silver heart locket on a chain. “I don’t have to even ask if you know what it is…”

“It’s mom’s.” You said with a smile as you flipped it over with your thumb. “She wore it on your wedding day.”

“Always said she’d pass it down to a daughter. Nearly made Ash miss her fucking flight looking for it. You know I can’t remember where I put shit for shit.”

“Will you quit swearing and put on the damn necklace.” You laughed as you held it out to him. “Racing a clock here.”

“Yea, yea.” He chuckled as he put the finishing touch on your wedding day outfit. He took a step back and huffed with a small shake of his head. “You make a beautiful bride, baby girl.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Now Ash, what were you saying?”

“Oh, it’s... it’s nothing.” She said with her own smile as she handed you your bouquet of blue roses that had a dark blue bandana you borrowed from Chibs wrapped around the bottom stems. With a nod, you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, before looking back at your dad.

“You ready?” Negan asked with a small smirk.

“More than.” With a nod, he held out his arm and led you out of the back room. “Damn it, can we just speed up the clock.” You joked as you carefully and subtly kicked out the front of your gown with each step so you would trip or rip it.

“Quit fuckin’ swearing.” Negan laughed as Ashleigh walked a little faster to get next to you.

“(Y/N), I think I made a huge mistake.” She repeated, timidly at the same time you watched Henry looking up from your sleeping little girl in her snow queen dress and a giant blue bow you prayed would muffle the noise so she could stay asleep next to Ashton in their winter wonderland decorated wagon, and over at you. There was only a moments hesitation as you ran through the list of women from the club that had come to see you as you were getting ready to wish you the best before you reacted.

“Daddy, go get Frankie.” You asked, simply as you let go of his arm for a moment. “She’s got on black and silver, so she won’t clash with the colors when she pulls the wagon.”

“(Y/N)...” Ashleigh choked as you simply ignored your ex standing there and stopped in front of the back doors.

“You are dead to me.” You said to her as you fixed your own dress and forced yourself to remain calm. “Get your son, the prospect will take you back to the hotel for your things and you can go.”

“(Y/N)...” She and Henry said at the same time, which made you round on both of them with fire in your eyes.

“I don’t know what either of you thought you were trying to accomplish here, but I’m not in the fucking mood. You, Henry, I can sort of understand because we were together so long, and you’re just hoping that maybe, just maybe I’d be willing to give you a third chance after every thing you have put me through, but Ash...? What the actual fuck. Seriously, how did you think that calling my ex in on my fucking wedding day was going to go over, huh? Good? Simple? Not likely to royally piss me the fuck off?!��

“I was just trying...”

“Well now you can just try to get the fuck out of here before I fucking strangle you on my fucking wedding day. And Henry, I have nothing more to say to you. You’ve made it perfectly clear that I am not the person you want to be with. And I am sick and fucking tired of compromising my integrity to fit into your perfect wife narrative when I met someone 12 fucking years ago that never wanted anyone but me in the first place and still does all these years later. So you both can leave. Frankie, I need you to pull my flower girl down the aisle for me.” 

“(Y/N)...” Ashleigh said as she carefully picked up Ashton.

“I said NOW!” You roared with a glance back at her. “Now! I will get you home, but you are dead to me. Frankie, it’s fine, just pull her down behind you, put her in front of my dad’s seat so you can take my bouquet, and when it gets to the count down, bring the wagon back here to try to keep her away from the noise.” You told your new Maid of Honor as you fixed your dress again. You didn’t look back as the prospect that had been watching the kids escorted Ashleigh and Henry out of the church despite their protests, but your dad stopped in front of you with a look of concern.

“You need a minute?”

“I need Filip.” You said as you searched his eyes with barely a hint of tears in yours. He nodded his head and told Frankie to go, as he walked around behind you and helped you pull out your ball gown so it made the perfect bell shape.

“What have I always told you about writing off family?”

“Fuck them if they don’t understand.”

“Exactly.” He said as he laced your arm with his. “Fuck ‘em. Now quit swearing in a fucking church.”

“Daddy, we’re both going to hell anyways.” You giggled with a glance up at him. “But I’m pretty sure we just gave ourselves the best seats on the bus.”

“Fucking right we did.” He laughed as you both took the first step down the aisle. You found Filip instantly, and watched as his eyes shifted from anger directed at Henry’s back, to concern when he saw your face. You tried to tell him that you were alright, but you could tell he didn’t believe it until you were directly in front of him with your hand finally in his.

“We’re getting married today.” You whispered with a smile as you reached up with your free hand to cup his cheek. “I’m OK. I’m finally where I’m meant to be. With you.” With a nod of his head, knowing that you would never lie to him, he leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead with a sigh of relief. The ceremony was kept short by design, since it was nearly midnight, and while there was talk of God, you barely noticed it because of the man who could not stop smiling in front of you with matching tears of joy in his eyes. You stuck with generic vows, because neither of you would have made it through writing your own, and your first attempt at saying ‘I do’ came out as a choked whisper, which made his smile grow even more.

“By the power vested in me by God and man...” The priest said as the club counted down the New Year for you. “I pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. You may now kiss the bride.”

“I told you I’d marry you one day.” You whispered softly in the last few seconds.

“Finally.” Filip whispered back as he wrapped his arms around your middle and kissed you like it was the first time at exactly midnight, just like he had the night you first met in the shadows of the Belfast clubhouse. The club erupted in cheers as you held your husband’s cheeks between both hands, while the priest presented Mr. and Mrs. Filip Telford over the noise and left to get some sleep before his morning church service. You both pulled back with smiles, and you took your bouquet from Negan, who’s face read happiness and sadness at the same time.

“Congratulations, baby girl.” He said softly as he kissed your cheek before you left, since you agreed to do the reception the next night when you could get a sitter for Celeste and so the club could still celebrate the New Year. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Daddy.” You responded with a smile. With a nod of his head, he stepped out of your way so you could head out the back to collect your daughter and spend your first night as husband and wife making love until the sun came up.

[howlermemes]

                                       𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭                                                l  y  r  i  c    s  t  a  r  t  e  r  s

✽  long post ahead bc i have no self control ! ✽  change pronouns / punctuation as needed . ✽  some lyrics are explicit. ✽  some themes are slightly darker. ✽  alteratively, send    ♫ 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎    to have a lyric automatically generated & said to your muse instead .

[ track 01 ]   the 1 ❛ I'm doing good! I'm on some new shit. ❜ ❛ I thought I saw you at the bus stop. ❜ ❛ I hit the ground running each night. ❜ ❛ You know, the greatest films of all time were never made. ❜ ❛ If you wanted me, you really should have showed. ❜ ❛ If you never bleed, you're never gonna grow. ❜ ❛ It's alright now. ❜ ❛ We were something, don't you think so? ❜ ❛ If my wishes came true, it would have been you. ❜ ❛ In my defense — I have none for never leaving well enough alone. ❜ ❛ It would have been fun if you would have been the one. ❜ ❛ I had this dream you're doing cool shit, having adventures on your own. ❜ ❛ We never painted by the numbers, baby. ❜ ❛ We were making it count. ❜ ❛ You know the greatest loves of all time are over now. ❜ ❛ I guess you never know. ❜ ❛ It's another day of waking up alone. ❜ ❛ If one thing had been different, would everything be different today? ❜ ❛ It would have been sweet if it could've been me. ❜ ❛ In my defense, I have none for digging up the grave another time. ❜

[ track 02 ]   cardigan ❛ When you are young, they assume you know nothing. ❜ ❛ Baby, kiss it better. ❜ ❛ I was your favorite. ❜ ❛ A friend to all is a friend to none. ❜ ❛ Chase two girls, lose the one. ❜ ❛ To kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed. ❜ ❛ You drew stars around my scars and now I'm bleeding. ❜ ❛ I knew you tried to change the ending. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs. ❜ ❛ I knew everything when I was young. ❜ ❛ I knew I'd curse you for the longest time. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standing in my front porch light. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd come back to me. ❜

[ track 03 ]   the last great american dynasty ❛ How did a middle-class divorcee do it? ❜ ❛ The wedding was a charming, if a little gauche. ❜ ❛ There's only so far new money goes. ❜ ❛ Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud. ❜ ❛ It must have been her fault his heart gave out. ❜ ❛ There goes the last great American dynasty. ❜ ❛ Who knows, if she never showed up, what could have been. ❜ ❛ There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen. ❜ ❛ They say she was seen on occasion, pacing the rocks, staring out the sea. ❜ ❛ In a feud with her neighbor, she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green. ❜ ❛ Fifty years is a long time. ❜ ❛ Who knows, if I never showed up, what could've been. ❜ ❛ I had a marvelous time ruining everything. ❜ ❛ I had a marvelous time. ❜

[ track 04 ]   exile ❛ I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body. ❜ ❛ I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending. ❜ ❛ You're not my homeland anymore. ❜ ❛ What am I defending now? ❜ ❛ You were my town. Now I'm in exile, seeing you out. ❜ ❛ I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy, like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me. ❜ ❛ You'd get your knuckles bloody for me. ❜ ❛ Those eyes add insult to injury. ❜ ❛ I'm not your problem anymore. ❜ ❛ Who am I offending now? ❜ ❛ You were my crown. Now I'm in exile, seeing you out. ❜ ❛ I'm leaving out the side door. ❜ ❛ There is no amount of crying I can do for you. ❜ ❛ All this time, we always walked a very thin line. ❜ ❛ You didn't even hear me out. ❜ ❛ You never gave a warning sign. ❜ ❛ I gave so many signs. ❜ ❛ All this time, I never learned to read your mind. ❜ ❛ I couldn't turn things around. ❜ ❛ You never turned things around. ❜ ❛ You didn't even see the signs. ❜

[ track 05 ]   my tears ricochet ❛ If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too. ❜ ❛ Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe — all the hell you gave me? ❜ ❛ I loved you, I swear I loved you, until my dying day. ❜ ❛ I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. ❜ ❛ You're the hero flying around, saving face. ❜ ❛ If I'm dead to you, why were you at the wake? ❜ ❛ Look at how my tears ricochet. ❜ ❛ We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean. ❜ ❛ You know I didn't want to have to haunt you. ❜ ❛ What a ghostly scene. ❜ ❛ You used to tell me I was brave. ❜ ❛ I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere I want, just not home. ❜ ❛ You can aim for my heart — go for blood. ❜ ❛ You would still miss me in your bones. ❜ ❛ I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky. ❜ ❛ You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. ❜ ❛ You turned into your worst fears. ❜ ❛ You're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years. ❜

[ track 06 ]   mirrorball ❛ I'll show you every version of yourself tonight. ❜ ❛ When I break, it's a million pieces. ❜ ❛ Hush. ❜ ❛ You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes, spinning in my highest heels, love — shining just for you. ❜ ❛ I know they said the end is near. ❜ ❛ I can change everything about me to fit in. ❜ ❛ You're not like the regulars. ❜ ❛ I'm still on that tightrope. ❜ ❛ I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me. ❜ ❛ I'm still a believer, but I don't know why. ❜ ❛ I've never been a natural. ❜ ❛ All I do is try, try, try. ❜ ❛ I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me. ❜

[ track 07 ]   seven ❛ Please picture me in the trees. ❜ ❛ I hit my peak at seven, feet in the swing over the creek. ❜ ❛ I was too scared to jump in, but I was high in the sky. ❜ ❛ Are there still beautiful things? ❜ ❛ Cross your heart. ❜ ❛ Though I can't recall your face, I still got love for you. ❜ ❛ Love you to the moon and to Saturn. ❜ ❛ The love lasts so long. ❜ ❛ I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted. ❜ ❛ Your dad is always mad. ❜ ❛ I think you should come live with me. ❜ ❛ We can be pirates! ❜ ❛ You won't have to cry or hide in the closet. ❜ ❛ Our love will be passed on. ❜ ❛ I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted. ❜ ❛ Pack your dolls and a sweater. ❜

[ track 08 ]   august ❛ Salt air and the rust on your door — I never needed anything more. ❜ ❛ I can see us lost in the memory. ❜ ❛ August slipped away into a moment in time, because it was never mine. ❜ ❛ I was see us twisted in bedsheets. ❜ ❛ August sipped away like a bottle of wine, because you were never mine. ❜ ❛ Will you call me when you're back at school? ❜ ❛ I remember thinking I had you. ❜ ❛ It was never mine. ❜ ❛ You were never mine. ❜ ❛ For me, it was enough to live for the hope of it all. ❜ ❛ I canceled plans just in case you'd call. ❜ ❛ Meet me behind the mall. ❜ ❛ So much for summer love and saying "us". ❜ ❛ You weren't mine to lose. ❜ ❛ Do you remember? ❜ ❛ Remember when I pulled up and said "Get in the car." ❛ I was living for the hope of it all. ❜

[ track 09 ]   this is me trying ❛ I've been having a hard time adjusting. ❜ ❛ I didn't know if you'd care if I came back. ❜ ❛ I have a lot of regrets about that. ❜ ❛ Maybe I don't quite know what to say. ❜ ❛ I'm here in your doorway. ❜ ❛ I just wanted you to know this is me trying. ❜ ❛ I got wasted like all my potential. ❜ ❛ My words shoot to kill when I'm mad. I have a lot of regrets about that. ❜ ❛ I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. ❜ ❛ I ended up here, pouring my heart out to a stranger. ❜ ❛ I didn't pour the whiskey. ❜ ❛ At least I'm trying. ❜ ❛ It's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. ❜ ❛ It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. ❜ ❛ You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town. ❜

[ track 10 ]   illicit affairs ❛ Make sure nobody sees you leave. ❜ ❛ Tell your friends you're out for a run. ❜ ❛ You'll be flushed when you return. ❜ ❛ Take the road less traveled by. ❜ ❛ Tell yourself you can always stop. ❜ ❛ What started in beautiful rooms, ends with meeting in parking lots. ❜ ❛ That's the thing about illicit affairs — and clandestine meetings and longing stares. ❜ ❛ It's born from just one single glance, but it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times. ❜ ❛ You leave no trace behind. ❜ ❛ Take the words for what they are — a dwindling mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times. ❜ ❛ They show their truth one single time, but they lie and they lie and they lie. A million little times. ❜ ❛ Don't call me "kid". ❜ ❛ Don't call me "baby". ❜ ❛ Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. ❜ ❛ You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else. ❜ ❛ Look at this idiotic fool that you made me. ❜ ❛ You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. ❜ ❛ You know damn well, for you, I would ruin myself a million little times. ❜

[ track 11 ]   invisible string ❛ I used to think I would meet somebody there. ❜ ❛ Teal was the color of your shirt when you were sixteen at the yogurt shop. ❜ ❛ Time, curious time. ❜ ❛ Were there clues I didn't see? ❜ ❛ Isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? ❜ ❛ You ate at my favorite spot for dinner. ❜ ❛ She said I looked like an American singer. ❜ ❛ Time, mystical time — cutting me open, then healing me fine. ❜ ❛ Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. ❜ ❛ One single thread of gold tied me to you. ❜ ❛ Gold was the color of the leaves when you around Centennial Park. ❜ ❛ Hell was the journey, but it brought me to heaven. ❜ ❛ Time, wondrous time, gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies. ❜ ❛ It's cool, baby, with me. ❜

[ track 12 ]   mad woman ❛ What did you think I'd say to that? ❜ ❛ Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? ❜ ❛ They strike to kill, and you know I will. ❜ ❛ What do you sing on your drive home? ❜ ❛ Do you see my face in the neighbors lawn? ❜ ❛ Fuck you forever. ❜ ❛ Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy. ❜ ❛ When you say I seem angry, I get more angry. ❜ ❛ There's nothing like a mad woman. ❜ ❛ What a shame she went mad. ❜ ❛ No one likes a mad woman. You made her like that. ❜ ❛ You'll poke that bear 'till her claws come out and you find something to wrap your noose around. ❜ ❛ I breathe flames each time I talk. ❜ ❛ They say "Move On," but you know I won't. ❜ ❛ Women like hunting witches too, doing your dirtiest work for you. ❜ ❛ It's obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together. ❜ ❛ I'm taking my time. ❜ ❛ You took everything from me. ❜ ❛ She should be mad, should be scathing like me. ❜

[ track 13 ]   epiphany ❛ I think he's bleeding out. ❜ ❛ Some things you just can't speak about. ❜ ❛ With you, I serve. With you, I fall down. ❜ ❛ I think she's crashing out. ❜ ❛ Only twenty minutes to sleep. ❛ You dream of some epiphany — just one single glimpse of relief. ❜

[ track 14 ]   betty ❛ I won't make assumptions. ❜ ❛ I think it's because of me. ❜ ❛ One time, I was riding on my skateboard when I passed your house. ❜ ❛ It's like I couldn't breathe. ❜ ❛ You heard the rumors. ❜ ❛ You can't believe a word she says most times. But this time, it was true. ❜ ❛ The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you. ❜ ❛ If I just showed up at your party, would you have me? ❜ ❛ Would you want me? ❜ ❛ Would you tell me to go fuck myself? ❜ ❛ In the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was a just a summer thing? ❜ ❛ I'm only seventeen. I don't know anything. ❜ ❛ I don't know anything, but I know I miss you. ❜ ❛ I know where it all went wrong. ❜ ❛ I was nowhere to be found. ❜ ❛ I hate crowds. You know that. ❜ ❛ I saw you dance with him. ❜ ❛ I was walking home on broken cobblestones, just thinking of you. ❛ She pulled up like a figment of my worst intentions. ❜ ❛ Get in. Let's drive. ❜ ❛ I dreamt of you all summer long. ❜ ❛ I planned it out for weeks now. ❜ ❛ It's finally sinking in. ❜ ❛ Right now is the last time. ❜ ❛ I can dream about what happens when you can see my face again. ❜ ❛ The only thing I wanna do is make it up to you. ❜ ❛ Will you have me? ❜ ❛ Will you love me? ❜ ❛ Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? ❜ ❛ If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? ❜ ❛ I don't know anything. ❜

[ track 15 ]   peace ❛ Our coming-of-age has come and gone. ❜ ❛ I never had the courage of my convictions, as long as danger is near. ❜ ❛ It's just around the corner, darlin. ❜ ❛ I could never give you peace. ❜ ❛ I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm. ❜ ❛ All these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret. ❜ ❛ The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me. ❜ ❛ Would it be enough if I could never give you peace? ❜ ❛ Your integrity makes me seem small. ❜ ❛ I talk shit with my friends. It's like I'm wasting your honor. ❜ ❛ Is it enough? ❜ ❛ I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best. ❜ ❛ The rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me. ❜

[ track 16 ]   hoax ❛ This has broken me down. ❜ ❛ This has frozen my ground. ❜ ❛ Give me a reason. ❜ ❛ Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in. ❜ ❛ Don't want no other shade of blue, but you. ❜ ❛ No other sadness in the world would do. ❜ ❛ I am ash from your fire. ❜ ❛ You know I left a part of me back in New York. ❜ ❛ You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for? ❜ ❛ You knew it still hurts underneath my scars. ❜ ❛ You knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score? ❜ ❛ It still hurts underneath my scars. ❜ ❛ What you did was just as dark. ❜ ❛ Darling, this was just as hard as when they pulled me apart. ❜

[notatallinterestingstuff]

With Love, She.

Clang! Blaam! Boom! The echoing sounds of the utensils falling down startled her from her trance. ‘Ughhhh, he’s going to be furious again!’, she thought to herself, picking up the plates in a hurry. It was not the best of days for her. Lunch was not yet ready; the maid has not yet come and Nirav has once again spilled rice on the floor. Arun was about to come home and he would not be pleased with this work. And yet another load on her growing and immeasurable life. She cursed her father under her breath and began trotting the 3-way road again. ‘Hey, you! I am working so hard to maintain the house and you keep a petty fight for some rice? Today, it ends! You are going to clean up the mess!’, she exclaimed with suppressed anger. But then Nirav looked back at her, gave her a mischievous grin and ran out of the house in a flurry. ‘One day, that boy is going to get it from me. But what can I do? My heart doesn’t allow it.”, she told to herself. Exhausted, she returned to her usual chores with a half-hearted attitude. Cleaning the house, doing the dishes, is that my life? Don’t I have dreams? Shouldn’t I too reach failure and then work hard to rise? As she fell into the ever-growing abyss of her thoughts, her mind reached out and grabbed a memory. ‘Daddy, when will we go to the museum?’, the little girl cried at the top of her voice. Her father, in an ever-calming voice replied,’ Don’t you worry child! As long as this elephant is with you, he will ride you to the museum, with free lollipops!”, The girl was now laughing and calm with the help of the tickles from her daddy. On the rickshaw, she asked her father, “Daddy, yesterday I heard the 5th class girls cry about life in the corridor instead of studying. Humph, what cry-babies!”. The father burst out into laughter, responding with a question,” What do you thing life is sweetie?”. “Life is when Ms. Rose doesn’t give us homework and gives us ice-cream!”, she exclaimed in an innocent voice.” But what is life daddy?”, she repeated herself, her innocent and childlike mind wanting to know everything and being restless. Her father, now in a graver voice, replied,” Look at those puppies running frantically behind their mother with utmost love and hope that she will feed them. She does feed them, but without herself eating, knowing that her children come first, even more than her life. That’s life. It is the cruelest thing in the world, but when accompanied with a certain something it makes your life meaningful.’ “Ice cream?”, she answered the question diligently. “Haha-ha! No, my precious darling! Its love!”, he told her. “And remember, no matter what life gives you, remember that love always makes it what it is, and you get to decide what’s life and what’s love”. “Then I love love so much!”, she proclaimed to everyone. She continued to lick her lollipop joyously, unbeknownst to her what life was going to make her do. TTRRRRRRIINNNGGGG! The loud ringing of the doorbell startled her, causing her to cut her own finger a little on the skin. She grimaced in pain as she ran to answer the door. “Hey, sweetheart! Today was so stressful and boring! Could I get a cup of water please? And why is rice lying on the floor? Has Ritesh done this? How can he so irresponsible? Why have you not controlled him yet?”, came in the questions as Arun stormed inside the house from work. “I’ll take care of it, I’m sorry, had a lot of work today.”, she replied trying to stop the bleeding simultaneously. “Did you just cut yourself? How can you be so careless, huh? Sometimes I feel like life is so cruel, always doing this to me!”, Arun castigated her. All she could do was give back a fake smile as Arun brought the bandages. She felt a little comfort even though the wound was stinging a lot. “Let me go buy today’s dinner from outside, you take some rest.”, Arun convinced her. As soon as Arun was gone, she was back to cleaning the dishes, wiping an invisible tear off her eye. Damn you, dad! Why did you have to leave me so early? If it wasn’t for that rickshaw accident that

day, you would have been still here, with me, not lying in a hospital bed for 20 long years, she cursed under her breath. She turned off the tap, wound still stinging, and proceeded to clean the mess on the floor. She knew her life wouldn’t be same after that accident, the sounds of the crash still ringing in her ear, even after 20 long years. She had dreamt to be an IAS officer, make a difference to her nation, but that obstacle set her back at least by a lifetime. Her mother, influenced by relatives and peer pressure, got her married off to Arun Apparkumari, a GM at an MNC. He is a good man, but sometimes doesn’t feel the way that she feels. And, 2 children later, here she is, a grown independent woman by society, but a shattered yet dreaming little girl by heart. She did what she only could do about her miserable life, weep, sometimes for long times alone, as she kept on her apparent duty of daily chores. Just a few footsteps away, a door closed, listening to the unheard sorrows. The next day early morning, she boarded the bus to meet her in-laws, for whom she was the only caretaker. As she took a seat near the window, a wave of fresh air flew through her face. This was the only part she liked about the bus ride. She could see the everchanging world in its glow, nature and man working together to create a sustainable and luxurious life. Cars swept past the bus, metros riding over, people in a hurry to do something important, most importantly women rushing to work, trying to bring about a change in the society. Her thoughts were interrupted by a girl, dressed up fashionista style, on a motorbike and smoking a cigarette speeding through the roads, hurling obscenities at other drivers. That brought back a fond memory from her twenties. It was nostalgic time again. ‘Hey Sathya! Come fast! If Mom finds out about this, they’ll throw me out of the house for sure!”, she shouted in excitement as her friend Sathya came running towards her. “Its fine da! Anyways it’s our last day meeting. Who knows what will happen after you get married and sent off? Start cleaning vessels now itself! You will have practice!”, she laughed hysterically looking at a sulking face. “Come on fast! We have no time to lose!”, she shouted as they both started on a rental bike. As the wind rushed through her face, and her skin feeling the true touch of mother nature, she rode the bike as far as the road took her. It was the happiest she had been in a while. Since her father’s accident, her whole house was in chaos as her gullible mother ignored her pleas and, with the advice of the so-called relatives, fixed her marriage. The only way to spend all her pent-up anger was today. She wouldn’t do anything to miss today’s thrill. That day lived up to its name. Playing with Sathya on the beach, teasing and laughing about the men following them, fun with the waves and finally icecream on the rocks witnessing the grandest and splendor sunset. “What is life da?”, she asked her friend, repeating the question for as long as she had known Sathya relishing her ice-cream. “According to me, it would be travelling the world with my love and enjoy doing what I do. What about you? What’s your thoughts?”, Sathya replied relishing her ice-cream too, not knowing the ripples it caused. She began to wonder about her life after marriage. She was in a deep abyss now, with no way out or no one to help her. When will I get this feeling again? What will happen to me? What about my dreams? “Hello, snap out of it! You’ve gone and dropped the ice cream, now you’ve made me go crazy!”, Sathya said sarcastically. But she ignored that and asked her, “But why only roaming around the world? Why not follow your dreams and pursue your passions? Isn’t that supposed to make you happy? Sathya with a calm mind answered her question,” My dear friend. You have confused yourself with life. Life is not always cruel. When I meant the world trip, I was not going to obviously enjoy the trip. It was the person I love that I’m going to enjoy with. That’s what makes

us all happy. Life doesn’t give us obstacles; it gives us the stairs. Now whether you run on it or trod is your choice.” That sentence was stuck in my mind for a long time. “Madam! Please wake up, the stop has arrived”, said the bus conductor carrying out his duty. Back to the stairs once again, she thought as she got off the bus. Back at home, Arun was waiting. To make a difference. She reached home early. In spite of all the things that she did for her in-laws, they never quite respected her and treated her the way she should. But, she did it for her satisfaction, the way her father told her. Anyways she got to eat some ice-cream on her own! As she opened the door, out came a deafening yell. “SURPRISE!!!!”, screamed Arun, Nirav and Ritesh at the top of their voices. “Happy life celebration day, you idiot!”, Arun screamed sarcastically. “What took you so long? Do you know how much time Nirav spent baking that cake? Even with his girlfriend he doesn’t talk this much time with!”, he joked. “DAAAAAD! IM JUST 11!”, Nirav screamed blushing, a pink color slowly rising on his cheeks. “What’s all this going on?”, she asked with genuine astonishment. “I’ll tell you later, but first have this ice-cream cake. And that too your favorite! Pan masala flavor!”, Arun exclaimed. “Papa, I was busy writing the card. That’s why I gave him the wrong flavor. Don tease me!”, Ritesh shouted feeling guilty. And then, that day, she had a blast. Singing songs, going through old photos, charades with the family and a surprise visit from mom. It was the happiest she had been in days. She wiped out the pains of the last few weeks and embraced the day with full hands. “So now that the kids have gone to sleep, tell what does this life celebration day means, Mr. Party planner?” she asked Arun as they sat near the balcony. “Before I say that, I want to say thanks!”, he replied. “For what?”. “For everything. For the days you had to go to raise those 2 kids to keeping up with my atrocities and my mood swings, taking care of the relatives, and for facing everything that life gave you. It’s going to change from now”, he replied staring at the night sky. “I still don’t get it. What are you trying to thank me for now? It’s not even my birthday!”, she replied still in shock. “It’s even more special! Its Mother’s Day. See, when life doesn’t exactly give what you want, it is up to us to make sure that we squeeze the best out of it. And mothers always do it. They have to. And they always. It’s hard, people won’t get the pain, the losses and the challenges that come with it. But what they also miss is the small tiny happy moments that comes along with it”, he replied calmly to her. And that’s when it hit her. It hit her hard. What her father said. What Sathya meant. What she was missing most of her life. Life is not the true pleasure. It is love. Her love towards her family. Her love that keeps her going every single day, making her strive to just see the smile on her children’s face, to always love her husband no matter what. Its love that makes us feel alive, not life. “Nirav heard you weeping that day. And I almost felt the pain when he said it to me. So, as a family we are going to give you the greatest gift we can think of. Or at least to us accordingly. I can’t afford a necklace or something….”. “Just say it Arun”, she laughed. “Our love and support. From now no matter what you do, when you do or how you do it, its going to be your way. Let it be opening a restaurant or trying for a job or even being lazy like me, no matter what the society or any bloody person says, we will support you. Its your life, you apply the love to it, it will reward you back. That is what today’s life celebration day was. From now, you are not just a hardworking woman. For the society, you are the mother”, he said her, meaning each and every word from his heart. And that day she made a decision. It is going to be love that will lead her, not life. That day she understood what the world tried to express to her in different ways. That day, she

understood love. That day, she became her. With all the love from the multiverse, Ragav

[snusbandxknifewife]

Have a field trip fic I finished at 6am I’m sorry y’all lol

~~~~~~~

Field trip fic 1–York’s Wild Kingdom

“ Vivi, no!” I hiss, setting down the itinerary my sister kept insisting on handing me. “I can’t just leave Faerie to go on some zoo trip, just because you feel like laying in bed!”

“Oh come on,” she turns and points to Heather in exasperation. “I won’t just be laying in bed. She’s got the flu, and I can’t chaperone this trip without her!”

“But you expect me to go alone?” I’m incredulous, the list of my duties back in Faerie flitting through my head at lightning speed.

Heather opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again and sinks back into the couch with exhaustion written in every line of her body. Vivi’s eyes shoot to her girlfriend, obviously concerned, but I don’t let it sidetrack me.

“You expect me to watch a gaggle of children—“

“Oak’s friends.” Vivi interrupts.

“—alone? Vivi I have a thousand different things I need to do, none of which involve wrangling a hundred little demons. Why not tell Madoc to go?”

She fixes me with a tired look and I have to admit that maybe suggesting Madoc, of all people, wasn’t my smartest move. Honestly, I don’t think I can picture any scenario involving Madoc and a field trip that doesn’t end with at least one person in the emergency room.

I sigh and bury my face in my hands, my elbows resting on the breakfast bar in Vivi’s kitchen. Out in the living room, some reality show blares and Chinese food containers are stacked miles high. With Heather sick, all she’s wanted was takeout food and sleep. Vivi looks at her wits end, clearly far more worried about her girlfriend than the field trip that she’s assured me Oak has been looking forward to for weeks.

“I glamoured Oak’s teacher already. She thinks you and Cardan were the chaperones all along.” 

My eyes go wide and I shoot to my feet, ready to wring my sister’s neck. “You want me to bring Cardan? Vivi you expect both the King and Queen of Faerie to just leave for some stupid—“

“It’ll only be for the day, which is night for Faerie.” She sounds exasperated. “Nobody will even have to know you’re gone and you’ll be back by eight, long enough to get some shut eye for the next day.”

And because she’s right, we would be gone in the middle of the night, I don’t really have anymore reason to argue with her; especially given how Heather chooses that exact moment to make a run for the toilet in the hall bathroom.

I sigh and admit defeat, grabbing the itinerary for Mrs. Walker’s third grade class field trip to York’s Wild Kingdom Zoo and Amusement Park. Scowling down at the times and picking up Heather and Vivi’s chaperone t-shirts, I walk out of the apartment and make my way back to where I parked my ragwort steed.

Two days later, I’m standing between my little brother and my husband, both bouncing with excitement in Mrs. Walker’s classroom as we wait for the call to line up to go to the busses.

Cardan and I match, mostly because we’re both wearing pairs of his dark canvas breeches and identical chaperone shirts, dyed the world’s most neon shade of orange to attract attention. His ears and tail are glamoured away, only visible to myself and Oak. He passed well for a mortal man, though his pale skin and ethereal beauty have already earned at least one open-mouthed stare from Mrs. Devins, a housewife who also happens to be chaperoning.

“Mrs. Greenbriar, can I go to the bathroom?” Emily, a little girl in our group, asks for the second time this morning.

I leave Cardan and Oak looking over a map of the park and walk Emily down the hall to the third grade bathroom, waiting for her to finish and walking her back without a word. By the time we return, both boys are sitting in little desks with their heads all but pressed together, Cardan’s legs stretched out in front of him because they’re far too long for him to sit properly.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the itinerary, on which I have written a list of all the kids we’re responsible for today.

Oak

Emily

Derrick

Thomas

Annabelle

Kelly

The entirety of the third grade is going on this trip, so we’ve gotten off easy only having to watch six kids, especially since we were allowed to chaperone together. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d had to turn Cardan loose in the mortal world with a gaggle of children.

We’re here at six o’clock in the morning, two hours before school starts, because it’ll be a long drive to the zoo. We’re set to arrive at about nine o’clock and we will depart at five to be back by eight. Cardan and I don’t typically wake up until ten at night, so we’ll do well if we sleep on the bus ride back.

“Jude! What’s a wallaby?” Cardan asks, wonder glimmering in his tar black eyes.

“I think it’s Australian.” I announce, sitting down beside him as Mrs. Walker starts to call groups to head to the busses.

“What’s an Australian?”

I’m saved from answering that glorious question when Mrs. Walker tells us to head to bus 560. I stand again, counting the kids in our group and grabbing our bag before waving them out the door and down the hall.

When we get on the bus, I set about grabbing a seat for Cardan and myself at the front of the bus, because I remember every field trip in the mortal world involving kids sitting behind the chaperones. Oak and his friends confirm my memories by running as far back in the bus as they can, already getting loud and rowdy despite how early it is.

I sit Cardan by the window, knowing he’ll want to look out as we drive. His eyes are already wide, his nose wrinkling at the overpowering scent of gasoline. He still holds the map in his hands, focusing intently as I go through the bag to double check that were given an epi-pen because Emily is allergic to bees.

“Did you inform The Bomb about our whereabouts?” I ask him, whispering so we aren’t heard over the sound of the bus. “Is everything all taken care of?”

“Faerie won’t burn down because we leave for one night, wife.” He rolls his eyes at me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “And, yes, I told Bomb we were going on a field trip.”

His mouth curls around the words, almost like he isn’t sure he’s saying them right. Still, I don’t miss the teasing, so I glare in his direction before turning once more to the itinerary, which I already memorized two days ago.

Our bus driver, an elderly man named Ian, climbs on and greets us. The whole bus is full of third graders, more than just Mrs. Walker’s class, and it’s already nearly deafening. Within thirty seconds, some teacher I’m not familiar with is yelling at the kids to quiet down.

Cardan folds up the map and puts it in our bag as the bus drives away, absentmindedly grabbing my hand and watching out the window.

The bus ride passes quickly, likely because I, against all odds, fell asleep sometime before sunrise. When I’m awoken by Cardan’s fingers running through my hair and his delicate whispers of my name, I reach for my knife in a panic.

“You weren’t allowed weaponry today, my darling villain.” He laughs in my ear and I finally process my surroundings, remembering that we’re chaperoning for Oak’s field trip and I have no reason to pull a knife on a bunch of third graders.

At least, not yet.

“Are we there yet?” I groan, sleep thickening my voice as I rub my eyes hard enough to see stars.

Cardan smiles at me, telling me that Mrs. Walker said we were about ten minutes out. “I figured you’d like to go over your schedule once more, for good measure.”

I can’t tell if he’s being genuine or if he’s making fun of me, but I do look at our papers one more time to be safe. The last thing I want to do is lose a kid or go somewhere at the wrong time.

“I’m not sure who this Wendy lady is, but she seems to have an affinity for eateries.” Cardan announces as we pass a Wendy’s, likely for the bazillionth time this trip. I smile and ignore him, triple checking out epi-pen and reorganizing our bottles of water before closing the bag once more.

Behind us, another chaperone asks how long we’ve been married. When Cardan tells her it’s been more than a year and she visibly blanches, I remember that mortals don’t tend to marry as young as we did. It’s strange, being surrounded by humans who all show their ages so obviously.

To them, we’re barely adults. They likely think we’re going to college or working small jobs. I suppose I can’t blame them for being surprised, out of our normal clothing, you’d never suspect Cardan and I rule over a kingdom. We don’t really look the part of a King and Queen when we’re forced to wear traffic cone orange shirts and sit in a smelly old school bus.

Ian pulls up to the front of the zoo and I have to hold Cardan down to keep him in his chair as other groups file off. Our kids are in the very back, singing along to some repetitive song about baby sharks, clearly just as impatient as my husband.

When I finally get everyone off the bus and their wrist bands around their arms, I do another headcount and roll call. Cardan slings our bag onto his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking around as fast as he can, trying to take in all the bright colors and loud noises.

I go over our schedule with the kids, telling them how we’ll be spending the morning at the zoo and the afternoon at the amusement park. The hour in between is reserved for eating and any shopping that they might want to get done, as well as our scheduled trip to the butterfly pavilion.

“No, Derrick, you can’t pet the tigers.” I sigh as the little blond boy raised his hand, mischief in his eyes. He’s asked me this question at least six times since I met him. If his tiger printed shirt and matching tiger baseball cap are anything to go by, I’d assume he has a favorite animal.

I wrangle the kids and allow them to walk in front of us, one eye glued to Oak and the other watching everyone else as they run ahead.

“Ok, but can I pet the tigers?” Cardan whispers in my ear as we snake through the rides, heading back towards the zoo.

“Cardan, if you so much as look at a tiger I will kick your ass.” I hiss back, my heart rate spiking as my mind plays images of Cardan getting mauled by tigers.

Quickly, the visions morph into him standing naked, surrounded by the gore of a slaughtered snake. My throat threatens to close and tears almost prick at my eyes. “And we aren’t looking at any reptiles, either.”

“There aren’t any, I checked the map.” He’s so caught up in the park around us that he thankfully doesn’t notice my change in tone, allowing me a few seconds to compose myself again. “But there are lions, I want to see whose tail looks nicer.”

I can’t help the snort I let out. “More like whose mouth is bigger.”

“Oh my nemesis, how you wound me.”

We make it to the zoo entrance and all the kids are instantly fighting over where they want to go first.

“I want to see the camels!”

“Ducks are cooler!”

“You can see ducks anywhere!”

“Give me tigers or give me death!”

“Derrick get off the picnic table!” I yell, upon seeing that the little boy has climbed up on an extremely rickety table. “Cardan, please go get the tiger enthusiast.”

“Mrs. Greenbriar, I need to go to the bathroom.” Emily pulls at the hem of my shirt.

Cardan, now with Derrick on his back and a tiger baseball cap covering his eyes, returns to my side. “I believe a trip to the bathroom is wisest, then we’ll circle around the park.”

Oak grabs my hand and Emily stays attached to my shirt hem as we walk to the bathrooms. Ten minutes later, we’re all looking at the tigers and I think Derrick may be having an aneurism.

“Jude, is that what I sound like when I wax poetic about my wine?” Cardan stage whispers in my ear as Derrick begins his third long-winded speech about the majesty of the tiger.

“Your speeches are far more pleasing to the ear, my king.” I smirk as Derrick slips up, mispronouncing a word and deciding that the mistake warrants starting all over.

Below us, a few tigers jump around their enclosure, one playing with a pumpkin full of ground beef. Thomas is goading Derrick into a fourth speech and Oak is pointing excitedly, Annabelle and Emily hanging off every word he says.

I smile, wrapping my arm around my husbands waist and leaning into his side as another tiger attacks the one with the pumpkin, rolling into the side of the enclosure with teeth snapping.

I wish I’d taken a moment longer to revel in the calm, because three hours later, I am at my wit’s end.

Cardan is pouting because he severely misunderstood what a sea lion was, Kelly is crying because she dropped her iPhone—what kind of a third grader even has a smart phone—Oak is on my shoulders, Derrick is pissed that we won’t go back to the tigers, Emily has been to the bathroom four times, Thomas won’t stop trying to do handstands, and Annabelle is whining that she’s starving.

On top of all of that, my husband’s face is turning the color of roses because he is entirely too pale to be walking around without sunblock on.

“Just watch them!” I yell at Cardan as I pull the wallet out of our bag and go stomping in the direction of the closest souvenir shop. I hear Kelly’s crying switch from complaining about her phone to complaining about not being able to shop, but I’m a woman on a mission right now.

A little bell rings as I duck into the shop, taking Oak off my shoulders and giving him the order to only look for what we’re here for. It takes a few minutes and I know my husband won’t be happy with the final outcome, but Oak grabs the perfect hat, glamouring a handful of leaves into dollar bills so I can buy it and leave.

I find the group back by the camels, the kids sticking their fingers through the fencing in the hopes of getting licked by one of the large animals.

“Jude, what are you holding?” Cardan’s voice rouses me from my thoughts, thankfully distracting me as Kelly screeches about getting spit on by a camel.

“A hat. For you.” I hold it out. He takes a step back, his face contorting in horror.

“Jude, my wife, that article of clothing may be the worst I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he announces with a quiet, nearly tear-filled voice. “The very pits of fashion, certainly not suitable for my current outfit!”

“Nothing is suitable for a shirt that orange, certainly not cheeks as red as yours have gone,” I snort in response, throwing the monstrosity atop his head and stepping back to examine my work.

It’s a large floppy hat, similar to the fabric ones you’d see on the beach, but it’s printed with terrible drawings of all types of zoo animals as well as having the park’s name and logo emblazoned across the front. It covers Cardan’s whole face, the shadows showing just how badly he’s already been burned.

He reaches up to take it off, obviously seconds from flinging it away in disgust.

“Cardan you have a terrible sunburn and I won’t have you bitching about peeling skin tomorrow. You’ll wear the hat or you’ll regret it,” I warn, enough fire in my eyes to make him put the hat back on with a pout.

“I think it’s,” Oak starts confidently, aiming for a compliment but faltering in the middle, “a hat.”

Cardan laughs, his rosy cheeks squishing up with his grin as he picks up his nephew. “Oak, my friend, you’re far too old to twist your words so poorly,” he smiles. “I’ll have to teach you better ways to flatter insincerely before your first court appearance.”

I roll my eyes and turn back to the other kids, having to drag Thomas down from where he’s begun to climb the camel enclosure. He whines, as do the rest of the kids when I tell them it’s time to leave the zoo, but they all perk up again when I say it’s also time for lunch.

Cardan fishes out the envelope full of meal vouchers as I take orders. A chicken strip meal for that one, two burgers for them, a grilled cheese for her, a hot dog for him, and nachos for Oak. Cardan wisely takes my advice and settles for a burger, openly fascinated by the very concept of mortal cuisine.

I personally take chicken strips and french fries with ketchup, a delicacy from my youth that I so sorely miss in a land where salt is toxic to its inhabitants. Cardan pouts when I don’t let him steal a fry—the last thing I need is to have him puking on fair rides this afternoon—but greatly enjoys the bite of chicken I offer.

He is yet again far too tall for the table and his fingers are laughably large for the burger he holds, but the kids all seem to be enjoying the “act” that Mr. Greenbriar puts on where he pretends not to understand basic things around him. They absolutely have a riot when he asks me what ketchup is.

Then it’s cleanup time and off to the butterfly enclosure. Something I, for one, am actually looking forward to. Cardan wraps his arm around my waist once more, his stupid hat shielding me from the sun too, and watches with me as the kids clamber inside the first door.

An attendant warns us to be delicate with the butterflies because their wings can get hurt easily and then she lets us inside. All my stress from earlier melts away for a moment as the room opens up to a rainforest utopia, butterflies of all shapes and sizes and colors fluttering about our group.

Thankfully the kids are quiet and well-behaved in here, too busy being awestruck by the butterflies to start doing stupid things like climbing walls. All but Oak, who walks back towards us with a small frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my fingers brushing through his hair and over his horns.

His shoulders slump but he doesn’t say anything.

“Your queen commanded you to speak, it is your duty to obey her,” Cardan lightly reprimands, his fingers going under Oak’s chin to force him to lift his head.

A monarch floats by on a lazy breeze, crossing right between us and drawing all of our attention for a moment.

“Sometimes I miss home,” he finally admits, his eyes hollow in a way I haven’t seen in him before, a way I know I used to sport often in my youth. “The mortal world has things that Elfhame doesn’t, but when I watch everyone else get excited over pretty gardens or animals, I remember that home is far prettier.”

Cardan lets go of my waist, grabbing Oak and putting him on his hip before walking deeper into the garden.

I can’t hear what they say, I can only watch as my husband calls butterflies, first to his open palm, then to my brothers. I feel my heart clench as he whispers something in Oak’s ear that makes my little brother smile again. My eyes follow him as Cardan sets him down once more, allowing him to run back to his friends.

“What did you say?” I ask, reaching a hand out to my husband as he returns.

“Merely that beauty isn’t inherent in a place or thing,” he smiles, reaching out his hand in turn and allowing a little blue butterfly to hop into my palm. “That it is what we cultivate, and he has more than enough magic to make some here.”

I blink back sudden tears at the way he looks at me, the open and pure adoration in his eyes. He pulls me into a kiss as a few more butterflies settle on his hat and in my hair.

Then Emily asks about the god forsaken bathroom and the moment is ruined.

“I swear that child has a urinary tract problem,” I hiss, turning back to the kids as Cardan laughs at me.

We leave the butterfly room behind and head to the bathrooms. Again.

The kids are running circles around Cardan when I return, leaving him openly concerned and visibly longing for a wine goblet. Oak is studiously sat at his Uncle’s side, looking every bit the little prince that he is but wasn’t raised to be.

“My mommy gave me forty dollars!” Kelly yells at Derrick, the two seemingly in the midst of a fight about buying stuff at the gift shop.

“Kelly, some of that is for dinner,” I warn her. “We have to eat on the way back so you need to save your money.”

“My mom said I can buy two tigers!” My warnings go out the window as Derrick distracts Kelly once more, the two descending into a fight about which is better, tigers or cheetahs.

My eye twitches as I grab a water bottle from our bag, leaning into Cardan’s ear and whispering, “oh my husband my darling, do save me before I challenge a child to a duel.”

He laughs at me, standing up and grabbing Oak’s hand. He then assures me that it can’t be too bad, we already survived Annabelle trying to jump into the sea lion pool, surely we can handle shopping with a few children.

At least Oak had my back in that shop, because gods know my husband lost his mind the second he got inside.

I don’t honestly remember what happened, I think I blacked out about the time Thomas took a running leap at a stuffed animal display and I had to catch him mid air.

“I don’t think it was too bad,” Oak says as he holds his brand new assortment of little stuffed butterflies. “You didn’t draw any blood when Kelly tried to buy a four hundred dollar necklace.”

“You checked the map, does this place have bumper cars?” I grind my teeth, watching Cardan stuff an insanely large plastic bag into our little black bag. He keeps refusing to show me what’s inside, insisting it’s a surprise.

“It does,” my brother confirms.

“Good,” I nod, herding him out of the store last. “Because I’m going to put some of these kids into a wall.”

And put them into a wall I do. By the time we make it off the bumper cars and to the Ferris wheel, Mrs. Jude Greenbriar is well on her way to being a legend in Mrs. Walker’s class, purely for her ruthless approach to bumper cars. Cardan, who insisted on standing aside since Emily didn’t want to ride—something about it making her need to pee—looked increasingly more horrified every time I spun around and sent another kid’s cart flying away from mine.

At least it calmed the nerves a little bit.

“My villain, my gorgeous, bloodthirsty little god,” he whispers in the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine as our Ferris wheel cart rises up into the sky. “I expected a modicum of mercy for the mortal children.”

“Cardan if I ever have to take another child to a bathroom it will be too soon,” I snap, the sudden motion of me turning to face him causing our cart to rock dangerously.

He grins at me.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Good thing our children won’t need bathroom breaks,” he finally supplies. “I wouldn’t want you putting them into a wall.”

My eyes widen in shock. It’s not like we haven’t discussed children before—we’ll need to produce an heir to the throne at some point—and it’s not like I haven’t thought about having kids with him—we do share a bed every night—but to hear him so casually mention it is a rare thing indeed.

He looks concerned, opening his mouth, likely to apologize for upsetting me, when his words really register in my head and I collapse back against the seat with a joyous little sigh

~~~~~

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Forever- Utter Nonsense Drabble... 40 Questions!

Yeah so don’t ask me where this came  from, but I saw these floating around and for some reason decided it would be funny if Steve and Katie answered  some of them instead of me...

I think the original post was from @odaatlover​  and I think I was taggeed by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​. Anyway, I took my favourite ones and this was the result...enjoy!

1. What’s one animal you wish you could have as a pet but can’t?

Katie: I’d kinda like a tiger. They’re so graceful and  pretty but pack a mean bite and you wouldn’t mess with one would you?

Steve: Who does that remind you of?

2. Favorite thing to wear to sleep?

Steve: (grinning) Nothing.

Katie : I can confirm that is also my favourite thing he sleeps in...

3. What song really gets you going?

Katie: In what way? If it’s to dance and just act like a crazy fool to then its always going to be “Back in Black” because it reminds me a lot of Tony and happy times growing up. But if its one to spark memories then its our wedding song.

Steve: “The Only One In Color” by Trapt. I also kinda like the John Legend song  “You and I” because it reminds me of her, you know, the bit aout trying on every damned out fit she ownes before we can go out.

Katie: I don’t do that.

Steve looks at Katie, eyebrow raising.

Katie: Ok, maybe I can be a little incecisive....but tha wasn’t really the point of the...you know what, never mind. Next...

4. Where do you usually eat your meals?

Steve: It depends. If its breakfast or lunch dring the week then it’s usual eaten on the go whilst we’re getting the kids sorted or I’m in between classes...but dinner, well we always try and sit down. And at weekends we always eat at the table with the kids. 

5. Favorite meal: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

Katie: Dinner. During the week Steve and I eat a little bit later than the kids so we have that time to ourselves just to decompress and talk about our day, have a bit of us time...and at weekend we’re al together so I love it.

Steve: I love it for all those reasons, and also because she’s the best damned cook on the planet.

6. Most embarrassing habit?

Katie: Erm...

Steve: It’s pretty embarassing when you throw a Brat tantrum about something.. Katie: I don’t do that in public.

Steve: Bullshit. I refer you to the whole car purchasing situation a few years ago.

Katie: Jamie was only a baby...I was hormonal.

Steve: Hormonal my ass, you were being a brat.

Katie:  Whatever.  Yours is definately the need to stand with your hands on your hips and give someone your Captain look, especially when it’s someone you have never met before but they just happen to be doing something to piss you off.

Steve:  I make no apologies for this.  People can be idiots.

7. Chocolate or fruity candy?

Both at same time: Chocolate.

Steve: Preferably British.  Cadbury’s to be specific. I got a taste for it when I was in London during the war.

Katie: He has a secret stash he hides from the kids...it’s great to blackmail him with.

8. Soft or hard tacos?

Steve: Soft

Katie: Hard

Steve: Although hard ones always remind me of when you went into labour with Jamie.  We were making them for lunch and you had a contraction and crushed one...

Katie: Oh yeah, maybe soft in that case...because that was painful.  And then I went throguh that another 3 times.Which is your fault.

Steve: I take full responsibility, yes. 

9. Worst way to break up a fight?

Katie: Walk into the middle of it and say “Prove it, put the hamer down...” Steve: sighs, That was one time.

Katie: And it levelled a forest.

Steve: Did it work?

Katie: Hmmm, suppose so.

Steve: There you go ...but if its a fight between us, the I can think of the best way to break it up...

Katie : grinning, yeah...that’ s pretty funny. Or the worst one is telling you you’re in the spare room.

Steve: Yeah...that sucks.

10. Best thing to say in an elevator of strangers?

Katie: Putting on deep voice “Before we get started, does anyone wanna get out?”

Steve: Sighing  I wish I had some smart reply to that bu I don’t...

Katie: No, you just threw us out the side of the damned thing from 14 storeys up

Steve: 19

Katie: That’s...that’s not better Steve.

11. Any hidden talents?

Steve: Not so much hidden really but I’m not a bad artist and Katie’s singing and piano playing is off the scale.

Katie: Steve’s really good at DIY. Like, brilliantly good.  And also pretty savvy with technology all things considered...

Steve: When you say all things considered you mean because I’m like 112

Katie: Actually, you’re like 127 if you count the 15 years you spent back in time after putting the stones back.

Steve: hesitates I thought you said they didn’t count because I didn’t spend them with you.

Katie: They don’t, but they still happened.

12. Socks or bare feet around the house?

Steve: Socks

Katie: Bare feet

Steve: Neither of those protect you from standing on lego, which for the record, I reckon has to be a pain worse than chilbirth.

Katie:  Seriously? You’re going there?

Steve: Ok, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration but it still hurts like hell.

13: Favorite board game?

Katie: Monopoly. Its funny to watch Emmy and Jamie getting really agitated and annoyed. The younger 3 don’t really get it, Rori just likes to help Steve by sorting all his money into piles and suggesting things he can spend it on.

Steve: Namely tutus and tap shoes...she still wants to be chorus girl.

14:Heat on or keep it cold with lots of layers?

Katie: Oh my God. Steve is a nightmare as he runs hotter than any of us, so whilst we want the fire or heat on he’s complaining he’s boiling hot all the time. Our bedroom is like an ice block.

Steve: Doll, I’ve been in an ice block. Trust me, our bedroom is like a furnace in comparison.

Katie: It si nice though, like sleeping with a big hot  water bottle.

15: At what age did you first have alcohol?

Katie: I’m sure Tony gave me beer when I was 15 or something but the first time I ever got drunk was aged 17. I went to a keg party at one of my friends and I was aboslutely shit faced. Tony held my hair back whilst i puked my guts upt for a good hour once I was home. I had the hangover to end all hangovers the next day and he cracked JARVIS up to maximum volume just to teach me a lesson.

Steve:  I think I was 18. Me and Buck drank a bottle of his dad’s home made hooch...yeah, it didn’t take me much to get me drunk back then and I was very, very illl. Ma thought I had a fever. Mr Barnes thought it was hilarious, but still gave us both a slap upside th head...

16. What’s the most amount of money you’ve spent on a single item of clothing?

Katie: I would say my wedding dress, but Tony bought that for me, so it would probably the the dress I wore to the  SIP Launch for The Color Of Revenge...that cost...well it was in the tens of thousands

Steve:  Blinking How much?

Katie: You don’t need to know.

17. What do you typically wear to formal events?

Steve: Whatever my gal tells me to.

Katie: And you always look great Soldier.

18. Favorite memory?

Steve: Oooh, other than when we adopted Emmy or the kids were born, I’d have to say when Katie agreed to be my wife. I’ll never forget that day as long as I live.

Katie: Me neither, not least becase I got my camero...

Steve: rolls eyes.

Katie:  Joking aside, yeah the engagement sticks in my mind but I think it was when you finally kissed me for the first time. I knew then that I was never gonna let you go.

Steve: yeah...that...ok you know what this is an impossible question after being together for so long.

19. Favorite shoes?

Katie: I have a pair of sparkly gold Jimmy Choo stilettoes that I’ve had for ages. They’re gorgeous, with ankle straps and pointed toes. I’ve had them for almost  17 years but they’re amazin.

Steve: grins. Yeah, they’re my favourite shoes too...

Katie: Pervert.

Steve: I’m not even gonna deny it. Those shoes ALWAYS stay on if I can help it.

20. Most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?

Both start to laugh hysterically.

Steve: Where do we start?

Katie: New York, Washington, Sokovia, Lagos, Leipzig, Siberia, Wakanda, Upstate and proablly a whole load of other places in between could be good places Stevie.

Steve: Yeah, this...I can’t answer this. 

21. Most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing?

Katie: I was 7 when my parents died but taking Tony as surrogate, I reckon him catching us in the kitchen when we were...you know, and he didn’t actually know about us has got to be up there.

Steve: Yeah, that was pretty bad... although my Ma once caught me and Bucky measuring our... looks down.

Katie: splutters What? You never told me this?

Steve: Well its not exactly somethign that crops up in conersation sweethheart? “Oh by the way, once when we were 16 me and Buck compared sizes...” Katie: Blinks. Boys are strange. So who had the biggest...

Steve: Next question...

22. Last time you had an orgasm?

Both grin.

Steve: Last night 

Katie: I can confrim this...there’s not many nights to be fair where we don’t...

23: Celebrity Crushes?

Katie: grins. Does Bucky Barnes count?

Steve: Fuck you.

24: Makeup or natural?

Katie: Normally I just wear a bit of tinted moisturiser and mascara, now I have the kids anyway. I don’t have time to really do my face in a morning. I’ll make the effort when we go out though...

Steve: You don’t need it honey.

Katie: Awww thanks baby.

Steve: Although that red lipstick you wear, the bright red..yeah...I like that... grins wickedly and winks It smears well...

Katie flushes: dirt bag

25. Favorite season?

Katie: Summer. Growing up in Malibu I like the sun and warmth.

Steve: Fall. It’s an artists dream...the colours and textures are amazing to work with

Katie: Fall is rubbish. Everything dies and it’s a bit shit.

Steve: But you make apple pie and get to snuggle in my sweaters.

Katie: literally the only 2 things good about it. 

26. Are you a competitive person?

Katie snorts and looks at Steve

Steve: I’m not even going to deny it. 

Katie: He even refuses to let the kids win a games sometimes.

Steve: Important life lessons, Doll. 

27. First pet you’ve ever owned?

Katie: My goldfish Flounder, the one that Tony replaced about 8 times. Other than that it was my Turkey Marv, he was ace.

Steve: I didn’t have any growing up so mine would be Lucky. He was a great dog. 

28. Favorite pasta dish?

Steve: Mac and Cheese, specifically Katie’s. It’s amazing.

Katie smiling: Yeah  I like Mac and Cheese, but I also enjoy carbonara.

29. Favorite kind of pizza?

Both: Pepperoni.

Steve: New York Style.

Katie: I like Deepdish every now and then.

Steve: It’s not the same...

Katie: well dur, that’s the point.

Steve: Yeah, not convinced. 

30. Lots of acquaintances or a handful of close friends?

Katie: Handful of close friends, without a doubt. They become an extension of your family, you know. All of us in the Avengers were close and when you have that bond, you’ll do anything for one another.

Steve: Agree completely. When you’re close like we all are then it makes everything that little bit easier, knowing that whatever you’re facing you’ve got each others 6.

31: Something that ruins your appetite?

Katie: Narrows eyes Whenver I see Ross on Tv. Makes me want to puke.

Steve: You really should let that go you know?

Katie: Never. I hold a grudge very well.

Steve: Don’t I know it.

32. Night out with a bunch of friends in public or night in with one friend having deep conversations?

Steve: I’ve never been one for big nights out. I enjoy the odd one now and then but, I’d much rather curl up on the sofa or round the firepit with Katie or Sam or Bucky with a beer and some decent talk.

Katie: Yeah, at one time I would have said night out hands down, but certianly since having the kids, or even since we started dating, it’s definately change my ideas a little. Some of the nicest nights we’ve had have been spent on the sofa.

Steve grins: yeah...

Katie: And not just because of that....

33. Have you ever told someone you loved them first?

Steve: I’ve only ever told one girl I loved them and she’s sat right here, and I said it first that night...

Katie: smiling Yeah, yeah you did. I wasn’t far behind though, like 3 seconds or something.

34. Have you ever had sex on the first date?

Katie: Does a one night stand count as a first date? Because if so then yes...

Steve: Same.

Katie: Lottie?

Steve: Storm?

Both look at one another,  teasingly.

Katie: Ok next question...

35. Heroes or villains?

Steve: Some people might say there’s a fine line between the two. Katie: Oh here he goes, getting all Captain Philosophical again...look, everyone knows we were suposedly the heroes Steve, and to be fair we saved the world a fair few times, we were even fighting in the shadows during the Nomad years.

Steve: I know, I know...

36. How many plates can you eat at a buffet?

Steve: You know I’ve never actually counted.

Katie: You did 20 at the last brunch we went to.

Steve: 20...that’s...impressive.

Katie: smirking Bucky did 22

Steve: sighs Of course he did...

37: Favorite dessert?

Steve: Apple pie, preferably Katie’s

Katie: Pecan pie. Hands down. 

38 Would you rather watch a TV show or a movie?

Steve: Ooh, that’s..i suppose it depends. I do like a good TV series, especially if we can curl up and binge watch once the kids are going to bed but I do have fond memories of us working through the films on my list...

Katie: smiling, yeah we had a lot of fun. Still

39. What’s your favorite compliment to give?

Steve: I love telling Katie how beautiful she is, and what a wonderful mother she is...all of which is true.

Katie: I like to remind Steve that he’s my Steve Rogers, not Captain America...because he is. And he’s the most amazing man on the planet, with or withouth that serum coursing through his veins. Which is what makes him the best dad the kids could wish for.

40. What’s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to you?

Steve: smiling,  she’s sat right next to me.

Katie: smiling , back at ya soldier.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Shaking at the Knees

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark  Rating: Mature (M) Warnings: brief description of a car accident, deaf!Peter Summary: 

This is a different take on a soulmate type of verse. People paired together can hear their person's musical adventures, the songs in their head, the ones they're listening to when they're listening to them.

It takes Tony 21 years to finally hear a song in his head, then a few years later - the songs suddenly vanish.

Or, the one where Peter loses his hearing and confuses the fuck out of Tony Stark for ten years.

This is part one of the Thunderstruck series - you can find them all on AO3: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR 

For the longest time, Tony loved music. He can still remember his very first time hearing a vinyl record. The scratch of the record when the needle first dropped always made his ears prickle and tune in. Then, oh man – the instruments would drop, and the lyrics would start – voices like Bob Seger, AC/DC, and Led Zeppelin washed over him and he got a little lost – every single time. After a bad day at school, he could come home and put on his favorite record and just – let go.

Tony wasn’t really the most – normal kid. His above average intelligence alienated him from his peers in a way that was hard for a 10-year-old to understand. The fact that he could repurpose an engine and understand his father’s blueprints wasn’t nearly as impressive to the kids in his class – no matter how proud Tony actually felt about it. When the need to be accelerated in school happened, he figured he’d finally start to fit in a little better – but being the youngest and smartest kid wasn’t much easier.

The hardest difference to swallow, the thing that made him feel the weirdest was the fact that he hated heard from his soulmate, yet. Tony’s mother died pretty early on in his life, so his father didn’t spend much time talking about her or their soulmate connection. Tony always had music playing around him whenever he got the chance – and hadn’t really thought about the lack of background music in his mind. Thunderstruck always seemed to be playing around up there, but he also loved that song and didn’t have a singular problem playing it over and over – no matter what his father said. By the time he turned 13 and some of his classmates were already starting to pair off – the panic set in. Well, not really panic. More like – dread. What could that possibly mean – the fact that he’d never heard a peep from this person that was supposed to be fated for him? The mere thought of being defective, of not being good enough to have that person settled in – slowly invading most avenues in life. Especially the thirst music used to bring about in him.

Graduating from high school before 15 left Tony with a few choices – all of which included working in his dad’s shop. Stark Industries specialized in restoration of vintage cars, each one with custom engines, transmissions, and body work. The further Tony pulled away from others around him, the further he allowed himself to fall down the rabbit hole of being in the garage until the haze of sleep couldn’t be ignored anymore. The better his skills got, the higher the caliber of jobs Tony got access to. His father’s private garages were beautiful, stocked with the best tools, and parts galore. It also came with a silence that the main garage would never be able to manage. Over the next couple of years, he became used to silence, even seeming to flourish in it. When it came time for college, Tony figured exploring mechanical engineering was a must – but also found himself taking interest in ASL – so he pursued both. Staying in New York allowed him to work in his father’s garage while diving headfirst into all things academic.

Then, something crazy happened. A particularly long night turned early morning – one of which Tony found himself slumped against his workspace – he awoke suddenly. The blare of something that sounded like The Wheels on the Bus sounded in his head. His hands slapped to his head, the man wondering if he’d had a bit more whiskey than he meant to the night before – but the top of his mouth didn’t taste like the bottom of his shoe like it normally would. No, the sudden awakening resounded in his head, he knew the second he blinked himself awake to be coherent. What the fuck was that – he thought, sleep glazed eyes looking around the garage one more time before he sighed deeply and waited for another sound, another sign of life. When he heard the same tune a little later, he let himself smile. For the first time in all of his 21 years, he could finally hear something. He tried hard not to think about the fact that the man (he knew it was a male, he’d checked out enough asses to know) was probably not a man at all, but a young boy – one small enough to still be interested in songs that repeated ‘round’ and ‘round’ like a mantra. A small piece of him couldn’t help but feel a bit of reluctancy at the obvious age gap. On the other hand, he couldn’t stop himself from being excited by the fact that there was at least someone on the other side of the line.

Later that night, Tony fished out his favorite AC/DC record, his fingertips brushing across the cover in a solemn sort of reverie. When the music washed over him this time, after so many years of a heavy silence, Tony felt the magic again. He relaxed into it, the smoothness of the sound something he couldn’t recall missing as desperately as he felt in that moment. Settling into his favorite chair, Tony picked up his feet and let them rest on the wooden coffee table before him. Though he’d never tell, he fell asleep that night humming the soft melody of that silly children’s song.

----

One of Peter’s earliest memories is the beating of drums. Until he learned how to block it out, Peter would get so distracted by a pretty constant thump. There were words of course, but the boy was too young to recognize most of them. He understood what the thump was, though. Many times, he’d been lulled to sleep by the sound of it – the steady repetition like a lullaby. The first time Peter recognized one of the songs in his head, he’s in kindergarten. His dad always dropped him off, but that day – his mother was home from the hospital early enough to pick him up excitedly when he ran out of his room at her – the two sneaking off together a few minutes earlier than usual to share a customary pancakes and sausage at their friendly neighborhood McDonald’s. Rides with his mother were always considered special, since she worked the night shift and seemed to be the most tired right as Peter was waking up. Not only was his mom one of his favorite people, things with her were so different than they were with his dad. Peter loved them both equally – well, as equally as any five-year-old could – but he cherished the time with his mother more.

The stereo always thumped really loud whenever he was in the car with his mother. She liked different things, including music and entertainment. Growing up in the 70’s must’ve been something, if all the bands and movies she liked had anything to say about it. They’re pulling out of McDonald’s when a recognizable thump is heard. For a second, he thinks about all the different thumping beats he’d heard recently and this one matched – but it seemed like it was surrounding him, instead of playing in his head. The young boy looked around, then smiled – his mother was drumming the familiar beat on the steering wheel in her hands. “This is AC/DC, Pete,” she said around a smile, her eyes glowing in a way that only happened when she looked at Peter. “Thunderstruck is arguably one of their better songs,” his mother managed to get out before she started to sing. Peter felt his breath catch in his throat, the younger boy overcome by the music that surrounded him – that wasn’t in his head – and the depth of happiness on his mother’s face. He now had a connection to the songs and when he heard them in his head later in the evenings, he found himself singing along (all the wrong lyrics, of course) the same way his mother did – comfortably and with a small smile on his face.

The next couple of years, Peter absorbed as much of the music like the stuff he heard in his head as he could. Initially approaching his mother for more songs made him nervous. The young boy hadn’t heard much about soulmates yet, other than the fact that they existed. He didn’t yet understand that most people could hear songs in their head – that you were listening to your other half’s vocal delights. He eventually managed to stutter through an explanation, the now seven-year-old way more invested in the music now that he could hear it in his head and – well, not. After looking at him with confusion for a minute, his mother shook her head and pulled him into her arms. She kept him pressed tightly against her for a couple of moments, the woman enjoying the fact that her son still allowed her to do something like this. Despite him being so young, Peter was so very smart and growing up so damn quickly.

“Oh boy, you’re hearing things already, huh? That, my sweet boy, is your soulmate. Those songs playing in your head are that special person’s favorites – what they’re listening to right now. Here,” she said in a thick voice – her body moving before she could let herself even think. Peter could only hear a fumbling sound for a couple minutes, then his mother came back with a small square thing attached to some headphones. A thick stack of something was in her other hand. When she kneeled back in front of him, Peter could see a couple of wet streaks on her face. “Try these. If he’s a fan of AC/DC, I bet he likes these bands, too. See this,” she asked, pulling the tape out of its case, “you put this where the cassette player opens.” Peter watched avidly as she slipped the tape inside and handed the player to him. “Put those headphones on and it’ll be like you’re right there with them.” Peter looked at the player for a second before he bolted forward, his little arms wrapping around his mother’s neck tightly. “Thank you, mama,” Peter mumbled, his nose pressed into the fabric of her shirt. “Thank you.”

From that point on, Peter carried the cassette player with him wherever he went. The now well-known lyrics were a comfort that the boy couldn’t even describe. Sometimes, the music was the only thing that got him through the day. School wasn’t the easiest for him – it could be said that he got picked on pretty ruthlessly. Peter liked school and understood what the teacher was talking about way quicker than the rest of the people in his class. No matter the generation, the smart kids always kind of suffered a little bit. It didn’t matter, though – his parents were amazing, he was starting a new Lego build that evening, and his music never left him. For the most part, things weren’t too bad.

Things changed the day Peter forgot his headphones. The entire day, everything seemed to go wrong for Peter. He’d forgotten to study for the pop quiz in his math class, left his lunch on the counter and had to buy from the cafeteria – all on the day he forgot the most important part of his key to comfort. By the time he was waiting in the line to go home with the rest of the third graders, Peter felt drained, sad, and ready to curl up with his cassettes on either of his parents’ laps. Seeing his mom and his dad in the car when it was his turn momentarily changed his mood – Peter felt his face break into a smile when his mom rolled her window down and waved, her happiness contagious. He climbed into the back of the car without another thought, his smile widening when both his parents greeted him, his father’s hand coming back to squeeze at his knee. It took him a second to get buckled and then they were off – his mom explaining that she switched her shifts and they were going out to celebrate. The promise of Peter’s favorite restaurant had the young boy relaxing into the booster he still needed to sit in – though, he could buckle it himself. The next thing he knew, Peter’s eyes were blinking awake – the sound of a loud crash scaring the crap out of him. He couldn’t remember if he screamed himself, but he can still vividly remember hearing the high pitch of his mother’s voice before things went black for him again.

The next time Peter woke up, his Aunt May and Uncle Ben were by his bedside. He looked around frantically, not understanding why his parents weren’t there, too. He spoke out – and all the sudden realized he didn’t hear himself. His eyes met with May’s when he tried again, the obvious terror in her eyes adding to the panic that was quickly overwhelming him. Small hands moved up to his ears, though they never made it – his Uncle’s hands engulfing them, instead. The panic took him over completely, then. Both of the people around him were crying and he couldn’t hear a single thing. Where were his parents? And why did his head feel like it’d been cracked open? He felt the tears fall down his cheeks, though never heard the whimpers that fell from his lips as the confusing, emotional tsunami wiped him completely out. It took both May and Ben holding on to him to get him to calm down. He clung to them, so confused but needing the comfort that his other favorite people in this world could bring to him.

A while later, May sat down next to him again, this time armed with a pad of paper and a pencil. Peter didn’t understand what was happening, his body hurting and his ears still not hearing anything – it was all so overwhelming. Her soft hand had him looking up, the pad out in front of him. Learning that his parents were dead and that he’d lost his hearing from that stupid notepad seemed like the ultimate ending to what would always be the worst day of his life. He barely survived the accident that took both his parents. When the car rolled, Peter’s booster seat kept him from leaving the seat – but the force smashed his head against the window. The blackout caused by the concussion probably saved his life – if that was any consolation prize.

Two nights later, after being brought to May and Ben’s place, Peter laid in bed, tossing and turning until he finally heard the music in his head. The sadness of the collection of songs matched the situation perfectly and only then was Peter finally able to fall asleep.

----

Soon after hearing a song for the first time, Tony felt the best he could ever remember feeling. His academic studies were going well, so well in fact that he sailed through his first set of degrees and was taking an internship with a sign language interpreter. When he first brought the concept up to his father, Howard Stark looked at his son with something that he could only describe as confusion. Tony wasn’t shy about his brilliance and excelled substantially in the garage. Howard hadn’t said anything to his son yet, but he’d slowly been handing over big accounts – the youngest Stark basically equipped to take over the business, despite not being aware of that fact. Yet, Tony couldn’t help but smile at the little hint of pride his father hadn’t ever been able to conceal from him, despite his best efforts. The hours for his internship would barely interfere with his duties at the shop, so he got to take the position with his father’s blessing. For the first time in a while, Tony felt happy with himself and the relationship he was slowly cultivating with his father.

Things stayed decent for Tony for a few years. He managed to get enough field experience with sign language interpretation to get some exposure and spent a good majority of his time split between the garage and his interpreter gigs. He enjoyed the ability to get lost in the silence of the garage, then put significance to someone else’s silence through his ability to translate and be a voice. For some reason, Tony felt some unidentifiable need to pursue that path – and wouldn’t be deterred by anyone that didn’t understand his desire. He didn’t really understand it much, either. Most of his adult life, he felt compelled – compelled to do well, compelled to be able to help – hell, compelled to be the best version of himself. Since his change in consciousness happened right around the time he started to hear his music, Tony figured he could contribute at least a bit of his success to the person behind the soothing tunes. Tunes that were surprisingly starting to sound just like the music he played whenever he was by himself. Either the kid had good taste, or Tony taught him right before anything else could taint his musical perspective. Hearing the hum of Old Time Rock & Roll early in the morning wasn’t the worst way to wake up, after all.

Tony got to coast for a while, even enjoy himself a little bit. Most of his twenties were spent in the garage working on his own creations, or out in the community – doing sign language interpretation for big community events, or personal interpretation for the people that needed more of a singular touch. He appreciated both aspects of his work and spent most of his free time trying to find ways to make both worlds meet. By 27, Tony made enough money to build another addition to the Stark garage that would allow him to create, fix, and reinvent engines, parts, and whole vehicles that would slowly start to put him on the tech industry map. With the new addition came the need for new employees – and Tony knew all the best people for the job. He’d been working closely with Happy since their joint internship after graduating from college. The man didn’t know a thing about cars and their parts but could keep Tony running like no one else could. Happy spent a good majority of his life with his hearing, so he kept Tony on his toes both with his big personality and his ability to transition from ASL to speaking without much of a thought. Tony couldn’t imagine running the aspects of his shop without the other man. Bucky and Steve came along a year or so after Tony got his new garage built. They were a little older but gave Tony a run for his money in terms of their engine knowledge and ability to spend hours at a time under a car instead of with other humans. Yeah, things were going well for Tony Stark – so well, in fact, he was impatiently waiting for the other shoe to drop like it did so many other times throughout his life.

That shoe finally came dropping a couple months after his 28th birthday. For all intents and purposes, Tony was already running the Stark Industries garages. He hired a new person to manage payroll when he opened his own garage, took on a cute red headed assistant named Pepper Potts – who could sling business talk and fire all in one sentence. Tony even went as far as to start planning upgrades to the main garages to make more room for their ever-increasing stock of parts and pieces that were needed to do the job the Stark Industries way – with utmost perfection. It shouldn’t have been such a shock to him when the company officially became his. Yet, Tony found himself drifting about nonetheless. The death of his father that ultimately put the company securely and singularly in his hands hit him much harder than Tony anticipated. The last few years, Tony actually broke through his father’s shell and seemed to even earn some pride from the old man. Before he passed, Howard actually gave Tony a hug – one that he never expected and couldn’t recall often enough. He felt a little guilty that their best days spent together were some of his father’s last – but then again, he wouldn’t change that fact for anything. At least he’d been able to make something of himself before the old man passed and for that – Tony couldn’t help but feel grateful. If he was going to spend the rest of his life as an orphan, at least he knew that someone had been proud of him – even if that someone wasn’t around anymore.

The first few months after his father’s death were rough. Tony wasn’t used to not being able to sequester himself away in his garage and resented the change. The resentment started to seep into his performance and before long, Pepper was pulling him aside – her eyes trying to portray gentleness, regardless of the fact that the situation now called for a little bit of a reality check. “You look like shit, Tony – and everyone is noticing,” she started, her arms crossing over her chest to assume a more defensive stance. “You’ve got to get your shit together. Or at least pretend.” Tony knew the woman was only trying to help – that Pepper was one of the only people keeping him and the business running. Stark Industries needed him to not only be the genius behind all of the masterful art they created with cars, but the face of the company as well. He wanted the silence back – even if just for a minute. The silence always left him to his will, never interrupted or expected. He could be himself with the silence. That didn’t matter, though. His father’s legacy demanded his attention and Tony Stark would never not rise to a challenge presented his way. “You’re right, Pep. Sorry, babe,” he replied with a painted-on smirk, the corner of his lips coming nowhere close to his eyes. “I’ll be better. Pinky swear.”

Then – things got a little worse. After attempting to get his shit together, Tony finally had things figured out enough to delegate tasks, attend meetings, and still spend most of his time in the garage. Between Happy and Pep, Tony got all the things he needed and could still claim to be running a successful business. Tony still craved the silence – the beauty of being by himself and the simplicity of the times when he didn’t have to answer to anyone. It wasn’t coming back, he reminded himself – he worked his ass off to get to this level of success. Yet, he couldn’t help but yearn.

And then – the silence came back.

Not the silence of a private garage like he wanted. Not the silence of getting to spend forty-eight hours up to his elbows in engine grease. No, the silence that haunted him as a child – the absence of sound in the back of his mind – that returned with a vengeance. One day, he was jamming along to Stairway to Heaven in the back of his mind and the next – the next, it was all gone. This time, the sound felt like an input cable had been torn from the player – the absence of sound so deafening – so final. Tony couldn’t understand it. There’d been so much life on the other end not even twelve hours before the total silence. He could even feel the joy radiating on the other end – though, Tony didn’t know if that was real or his own personal projection of feeling. Now, there was nothing. That sent a bone-tingling chill across the surface of Tony’s skin. He still didn’t know much about this soulmate connection of his – he’d never really understood it. Yet, he knew enough to know that having sound, then losing sound – well, that couldn’t be a good thing. Tony couldn’t imagine the possibilities, couldn’t understand the implications of something like this. He just lost his father – now he had to deal with losing this person, too? Not only did he not know what happened to the poor kid, he didn’t have the distraction of his sounds, either. The classic rock and small amounts of current pop was one of the things Tony always looked forward to relaxing into. He got through meetings thinking about what song would pop up next, or what mood his person would be in depending on the type of sound coming down the connection. Without it, what the hell was he supposed to do? The thought of going back to how things were before he heard the fucking wheels on the bus – he couldn’t fucking stand it.

A couple days later, when nothing came back across the connection, Tony finally let himself wallow. His favorite whiskey, which he usually savored for all that it was, remained clenched in his fist throughout the first couple hours of his self-pity. Tears fell as he pulled from the bottle, each tug sending a warmth through him he never really thought he’d be able to feel again. Little by little, he let the tears fall and all of the terrible feelings get lost in the bottle that was frankly starting to get a little too empty for Tony’s taste. The drunker he got; the more Tony felt his heart break at the absence of sound in his head – so he tried to make up for it. All of his favorite records were lined up behind his vinyl player, Tony indulging in them whenever he got the chance. Instead of pulling AC/DC towards him, Tony flipped through the rest of his collection until he found the perfect mood music. The sound of Ann Peebles and I Can’t Stand the Rain washed over the room and Tony felt himself sigh. The sound was reassuring, even if it didn’t resonate from the back of his mind like it usually did – he let himself drown in it, get lost in the lyrics and the soothing sound of Ann’s voice while she sang about sweet memories and sounds she can’t stand. The perfect harmony to the misery that Tony couldn’t and wouldn’t pull himself out of for a long time.

----

The first year or so after losing his hearing, Peter struggled. At first, the death of his parents overwhelmed him. Aunt May and Uncle Ben were great – they truly were. They were so supportive and without them, he wouldn’t have survived. The custody ruling went pretty smoothly since May and Ben were already named his guardians, anyway. Though he’d been staying with them since after the accident, Peter officially moved into a room when it became apparent that their place was now his place – that home wasn’t the two-story with a pool he’d shared with his parents anymore. May and Ben lived in an apartment in Queens – the place very small but roomy enough to not make it feel like they were living on top of each other. Little by little, Peter found a way to make himself comfortable in the little bubble of the room they put together for him. Sure, they’d decorated in a similar nature to his room back home and he appreciated that. He found comfort in the small picture of him and his parents that sat right next to his bed so he could look at it when he jumped awake panicked after a crazy nightmare that ended with the same crash and scream every single time. They were trying to make their place a home for him and he loved them for it – but there were things missing and his little heart couldn’t put forth anymore energy to pretend, even if that meant making his aunt and uncle feel just a little bit better with the situation. The only thing that provided him real comfort, even if he couldn’t actually hear the music, was the cassette player his mom gave him what felt like so long ago.

The transition from being a completely hearing child to not being able to hear and communicate brought Peter way down. May and Ben allowed him a couple of weeks to heal before they started to demand things from him. First, it was appointments with a hearing specialist. Then, when they found out his hearing was not only gone, but gone for good, Peter went for ASL lessons on a daily basis. Because he wasn’t in any shape to actually attend a public school, Ben took to teaching things to Peter. It wasn’t well known that Ben was one of the smarter people in the world. The mediocre job Ben held at Stark Industries didn’t do justice to the amount of talent and initiative the man possessed – but he enjoyed getting to spend time with his wife and Peter, so he settled. Peter found himself slightly surprised by the fact that his uncle was that damn intelligent, the small boy not really paying attention to things like that before the accident. Now, though – Peter never felt more grateful for his uncle’s hidden talents. The man was intelligent in all ways, too. Whether it was book knowledge, or hands on knowledge, Ben had an example and explanation for everything. Once the bridge of learning how to communicate was crossed, Peter found himself slowly starting to recover – in all the ways a small child of trauma needed to. He mastered ASL a lot quicker than anyone suspected, much to the relief of both May and Ben – and when they figured he was ready, Peter was enrolled in Midtown School for the Deaf.

Slowly, Peter started to make his way back towards the happy kid he’d been for such a long time. At the ripe age of 12, Peter started to work in the garage with his uncle. Their daily lessons didn’t stop after he started attending his new school, either. In fact, Peter would bring home loads of interesting topics that they would delve further into. They would talk with rapid fire hand movements, Peter working on his signing and learning more about all the things that he thought were so very interesting. They would pass tools back and forth silently, Peter becoming more and more familiar with the parts and pieces the longer they spent in the garage together. Ben took to having Peter around as a son the same way May took to protecting the boy. Between the two of them, Peter knew everything he needed to and then some. He worked on his lip reading with May while they watched Gilmore Girls with the closed captioning – and learned lots of things about soulmates and love and happy endings from her, too. In the days after his recovery, Peter worried he wouldn’t be able to hear the songs anymore, simply because he couldn’t hear at all. The days passed, though – and not much happened. The songs would occasionally get very somber and emotional, but Peter appreciated them all the same. The company those songs provided was something the boy desperately needed and couldn’t see getting from anyone else. May and Ben were so good to him, so involved in all the parts in his life that needed to change drastically – but they didn’t quite know. There wasn’t a way to describe what losing his hearing was like. There probably weren’t enough words to get across the intensity of the loss. The music, though – even if he didn’t know who was on the other side of the line, the music made it seem like things were normal. Hearing those songs, even as randomly as they’d appear, they made Peter feel like he could hear again.

So, Peter clung to all of the things that were familiar to him. His daily garage hangouts with Uncle Ben had him working his way around all the parts and pieces of their ’65 Mustang so easily. He felt so familiar with it, Peter figured he could put the engine back together with his eyes closed. That passion only seemed to grow the longer he spent learning his way around and getting his hands dirty. Ben, in his never-ending quest to teach Peter everything he possibly could, started to take him to the Stark Industries garages. He didn’t work the grandest of jobs there, but the garage he could access had plenty of tools and spare parts – all a little different than the ones they’d been using in the garage. Like a fly to honey, Peter absorbed as much as he could about everything thrown his way. His fingers knew their way around a manual transmission, the young boy able to change it out in a way that was both quick and efficient. The job didn’t take much communication with others and allowed Peter to get lost in what he was doing – lost in the knowledge of how the parts worked by themselves and how to put them together to make the most out of their functions as a whole. Peter understood so much about the different types of engines and was even able to make corrections that made the part work a little better. A part of Peter hoped that Mr. Stark would see him and realize that he was worth offering an internship position to. Ben mentioned it every time they walked into the garage, so many times in fact – Peter felt a bit of hope bloom in his chest. In all the time Peter got to hang around in the Stark garages, he’d never seen the illustrious man.

To fill the void between trips to Stark Industry, Peter made friends with one of the workers at the junk yard not too far from his home. For whatever reason, Ned took him under his wing and let him peruse the huge piles of car parts that were always sitting around. Peter would muddle through conversations with him as he cleaned the parts off to put them in his backpack to take home. After a while, Peter stopped by the yard not only to grab the parts, but work on them there, too. It seemed like, for the first time in probably his entire life, Peter Parker made a friend. A guy that wasn’t much older than him that was slowly learning his way through sign language and dreaming of being a computer genius – a guy that didn’t judge Peter for something he couldn’t really help. Peter appreciated the guy and wasn’t afraid to crack a joke or tell him about things he never thought to tell anyone else. Slowly but surely, Peter was growing into himself – something he didn’t think would happen so easily or without him really noticing.

By the time he turned 16, Peter was finally finished with his completely rebuilt car and ready to actually be able to drive it. Ben let him drive all the time after they finished up at SI’s garage or home from school when Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to make the bus on time. Yet, he hadn’t been able to drive his own car yet – Ben insisting the first time should be when he officially had his license in his back pocket. When the day finally came around, Peter started up the Charger, his eyes closing as he sat in the seat, the vibrations running through his chest making his heart pound. The only time he got this type of feeling, classic rock songs were floating in the back of his subconsciousness. He let the engine run for a while longer, the purring vibration an addicting feeling now that he’d gotten used to it. It didn’t hurt that he’d managed to create that vibration – that every single piece of the car he compiled together with his own two hands – from rusty frame to the freshly painted outer body. Opening his eyes after a few minutes, Peter glanced at the clock and put the car in reverse – he’d need to go a little faster on the highway to get to the garage before his Uncle Ben got off work (which, he couldn’t honestly complain about, if he were being honest). With a rumble, Peter put the car in gear and started towards Stark Industries.

What happened next would forever be something that changed his life – Peter not really understanding the entire extent of it until much, much later.

Upon pulling up to the garage, Peter beamed when all of Ben’s coworkers walked out to check out the car. He parked quickly, then hopped out to pop the hood – his smile growing at the thought of showing off all his hard work. The customized engine allowed for better gas mileage and the configured transmission changed gears so fluidly that its lifespan was a few years longer than a normal transmission. He felt pride in his craftmanship as the men took in all the work, some of them not even understanding what the heck he was saying and signing as Peter explained all the different things he did putting the car together. His uncle patted him on the shoulder a little while into his explanation, the man’s smile almost as big as Peter’s own. The squeeze that came next told him his uncle was proud, and the punch to his opposite shoulder told him Ben was so excited to see all the work he did for himself, too. Peter smiled at the man, then went back to watching all of the people he’d grown up around ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ at the work he did – at the machine he put together and all the things he managed to accomplish while doing it. All of a sudden, people stopped what they were doing and turned to look in the direction behind Peter – even Ben seemed to stand at attention. Slowly, Peter turned around and smiled – his obvious naivety not recognizing the man standing in front of him. No one said anything, Peter could tell through the close eye he kept on the people around him. A little bit confused, Peter shifted until he could see Ben, his hands moving quickly to ask what the heck was going on. His uncle didn’t reply, his eyes bulging a little further in response instead. He followed the path of Ben’s eyes until once again, they were staring in the direction of the man now standing a little bit closer to Peter than just moments before.

Peter finally turned his full attention to the man behind him – the older guy so shockingly handsome, it was a little bit distracting. His goatee was neatly trimmed, the hair on his head a dark brown – the locks a little on the longer side and done in a way that made it look like the perfect sort of roll out of bed messy. His dark eyes were looking directly at Peter and it took him a moment to realize that the man was moving his hands – the signs flowing seamlessly from him – as if ASL was as natural to him as it was to Peter. Dumbfounded, Peter smiled and signed back “You took me by surprise. I didn’t see what you said, can you repeat it?” He felt his smile grow when the other man nodded, the fingers of his right dropping to tap on his own chest – gesturing to himself. “I’m Tony Stark – they all probably stopped because I haven’t been in this garage in years. It’s nice to meet you.” Tony’s lips moved at the same pace as his hands, the man obviously familiar with both ASL and spoken language. When he was through signing, Tony held out a hand between them – a smirk on his lips. Peter took it quickly – the spark zinging between them making his heart race in a way that he didn’t quite understand. He clenched his hand for a second, the pulse in his palm so fucking distracting. “I’m Peter – and holy shit – you’re Tony Stark. I love this garage, Sir. You have the best equipment,” Peter signed back, his voice already overworked from all the talking he’d done earlier. A part of him wanted to see how good Tony’s signing was, too – but no one needed to know that.

The older man smiled, a hand going to cover his heart in a gesture of thanks. “Thanks, kid – you haven’t even seen some of the coolest stuff.” He stopped then pointing over Peter’s shoulder. “That looks like someone rebuilt that from the ground up. Was that you?” Tony signed excitedly, a weird look of excitement and passion flashing across the older man’s eyes. The look was intoxicating, drawing Peter in without a second thought. This guy looked like he was about to drool over the work that he’d done – what kind of dream was he in right now? This opportunity probably wouldn’t come around again, so he jumped on the chance. Peter moved to stand by the hood – his hands moving quickly as he too started to excitedly describe the modifications he made and the process he used to put the engine back together. He almost forgot that many people were around them watching this exchange – watching, for the first time in most of their careers, Tony Stark use sign language to have an over-excited conversation – probably the first time they’d genuinely seen Tony Stark in the flesh, honestly. The same squeeze of his uncle’s hand brought Peter back from his ramble – a blush slipping over his cheeks the instant he realized he’d gone off – the exhilaration of it all something so overwhelming, he didn’t really understand it. “Sorry,” he signed, his shoulders shrugging as he did. “I got a little carried away. It’s pretty cool, though, right?”

The exchange didn’t last much longer after that. Tony complimented his craftmanship, shook his hand again, then shot him a smirk before turning away and catching up with the guy Peter knew to be Happy standing over by the front door. The entire drive home, Peter caught himself smiling at the memory of the interaction and the reverberation of the song playing in the back of his mind over and over again. The person on the other side of the line must’ve been pretty happy if the repeat of Faithfully had anything to say about it.

Later that night, while listening to the song in the back of his mind, Peter let himself get lost in the music, then right before he fell asleep – he finally let himself think about Tony. The smirk on the older man’s face burned into his memory.

----  

To say that Tony felt a little off his game the first time he interacted with Peter Parker would’ve been a total understatement. When Happy told him a crowd was gathered around a good looking car, Tony couldn’t help himself. There weren’t a lot of cars many of the people around the garage hadn’t seen, so something that brought about such a reaction had to be worth his time. Especially since they worked with luxury cars on a daily basis – this vehicle had to be interesting, maybe interesting enough to give Tony something to be excited over. Striding out of the building after a silent conversation with Happy, Tony took the walk through a couple different garages to get to the front of the building. He watched from the window of the waiting room for a couple minutes, looking around until he found the person in the middle of the commotion. Or, he supposed he should call the guy a kid – the young person no older than 16 or 17 at the maximum. His eyes beamed with a brightness Tony couldn’t recall ever seeing, and his smile took up his entire face. Round cheeks were stained with a red that probably painted them whenever the kid was happy, or sad, or embarrassed – and for a second, he wondered how far down the color actually went. Shaking his head of the stupidly inappropriate thought, Tony finally pushed his way out of the building. It was only when he got a little closer that he recognized the kid’s movements, his fingers forming signs flawlessly, perfect red lips were moving, but not often making complete sounds – like his lips moving was secondary to the fluid nature of his hands. That sight made his gut clench, a soft smile pulling across his lips before he could will it away. For whatever reason, he instantly felt a connection to the kid.

It didn’t take long for everyone gathered around the admittedly impressive car to turn and look at him, his entry into the space not nearly as smooth as he hoped it might be. Funnily enough, the kid was the last one to turn around, the same shy smile on his lips still firmly there, cheeks still cherry red with whatever emotion that seemed to be coursing through him. Tony watched with interest as the kid turned towards someone, his hands rapid fire signing – the man he was talking to obviously comfortable with this sort of exchange. When it was obvious there wasn’t going to be an answer, Tony couldn’t help the smile that slipped across his own face when the kid turned back his way – a curious look in his eye. Deciding at that moment to take this into his own hands, Tony started to sign, the words coming out of his mouth at the same rate he could make his body move through the signs. The look on the kid’s – Peter’s – face made his heart pound for a moment, the obvious surprise something that shouldn’t look as cute as it did. The closer he got to the other, the more of the car he could see and man – it was fucking impressive! The engine rebuild look flawless and he could already see the function of some of the obvious additions to the transmission. The kid had talent – an eye for this sort of thing, even. Something told him Peter did all of the work for himself, too. The kid obviously smart, obviously passionate about this sort of thing – his eyes on fire the entire time he talked about it. The whole thing was intoxicating to Tony, totally overwhelming in a way that Tony didn’t think he’d ever experienced. In all of his 37 years of life, he’d never felt a spark of connection the way he did with Peter – whatever the hell that meant.

After a quick exit and promise to himself to learn more about the kid, Tony got behind the wheel of his Audi – the itch to listen to music heavy the second he got into the seat. Happy shot him an odd look for a second, then smiled with a shrug – Tony listening to music was a rare and magic thing these days, so who the fuck was he to ruin it? Instead of saying anything, Happy let Tony fuck around with his phone – Tony’s fingers flying over the keys in search of one of his all-time favorite songs. Faithfully started over the speaker system and for the first time in a really long time, Tony let it wash over him. Since losing the song in his head, music didn’t hold the same place in his heart the way it used to. He couldn’t get through his time in the garage without it – the company of AC/DC something he’d gotten too used to over the years. Yet, he hadn’t let himself connect with anything since Ann Peebles soothed him to sleep almost ten years ago. It didn’t feel right, enjoying something the way he once did – feeling any sort of connection with sound when the person on the other side of his connection didn’t or couldn’t anymore. The resonating feeling Tony felt after his interaction with Peter, though – that felt like something to celebrate with some of his favorite tunes. He didn’t think too hard on that fact, simply allowed it to happen.

Getting back to the garage a few hours later, Tony went right to the computer and started to do some research. Finding Peter’s connection to SI wasn’t very hard – a simple search of his last name pulled up the name Ben Parker. He’d been working in the same garage for the past ten years and seemed to be pretty efficient in his work – and very invested in Peter – if the visitors log had anything to say about that. One Peter Parker started visiting the garage a whopping four years ago and Tony never even noticed. Of course, he didn’t spend much time thinking about anything other than his own work and the stupid schedule Pep put together for him. It seemed that the narrow focus he liked to have kept him from discovering this kid’s talent a lot earlier. A few runs through some of the recent security footage showed an incredibly talented Peter Parker doing a lot of the work under the hood or on the bench with one of the parts – taking it apart, then putting it seamlessly back together with hands of an expert, not those of a 16-year-old boy. In that instant, Tony knew he needed to do something for this kid – especially if his talent was to truly be believed. He could use someone with a mind not far from his own to help around the garage – to work with some of the more delicate parts that Tony wouldn’t trust to just anyone. With that decided, Tony made a few phone calls, getting the clearance from Pepper before calling the Parker residence to extend an internship to Peter Parker with his very own garage manager Steve Rogers.

Over the years, Tony taught most of the people on his staff at least a few signs so they could talk easily with Happy – and hoped he’d done enough to make Peter feel safe in the family that he created over the years of misfit mechanics and weirdos like himself. For some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Tony felt compelled to take care of Peter Parker. Maybe it was the kid’s brilliance, or maybe it was the obvious talent that radiated off of him – whatever it was, Tony knew Peter was going to be special. If he could have a part in that, well – there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop him.

----

The next time Peter went into Stark Industries, he picked up his very own employee badge. Though he’d been in the garage for years, he never thought he’d get the opportunity to actually work in THE GARAGE. He hoped, silently, that someone would see his potential and scoop it up. In his wildest dreams, he never truly thought it’d be Tony Stark. His first day in the garage turned into the ultimate adventure. Being in the garage his uncle worked in, Peter saw lots of cool stuff. Walking into Tony’s garage, that was like walking into a completely different world. There were lifts he’d never seen before and a 3D printer in the corner that probably did a lot of their mockups. The tools were shiny and the sheer quantity of them made his mouth water. Peter spent time in a junk yard and still hadn’t seen that many things at his disposal. Getting the hang of communicating with Mr. Rogers was a little frustrating – the man going back and forth between talking to loud at him and muddling through signs – but at the end of the day, Peter knew his way around under the hood and didn’t need much direction. With all of these parts and pieces at his fingertips, Peter couldn’t wait to explore and experiment. The transmission in his own vehicle ran so much better than what they put into Uncle Ben’s and if he could adjust it to be universal, well – he could probably save people a lot of money.

Peter settled into his position pretty easily – his ability to work hard and think quick on his feet a cherished thing around the garage. Steve, or Cap, as people so fondly liked to call him, found a way to bridge the communication gap and became one of Peter’s biggest fans. While Cap had an abundance of hands-on experience, Peter had a mind made for solving puzzles and making pieces fit together in the best possible way. During their first engine rebuild, Steve didn’t have the right pieces, and instead of putting the job on pause – Peter hand crafted the piece himself, a smile on his face the entire time he puzzled together the singular pieces into the perfect part. In the matter of a couple hours, Peter won Cap over – and immediately had a great ally on his side. The hands-on things Peter didn’t know or understand, Cap taught him in the best way that he could. Like his Uncle Ben, Peter understood the other man in a way that not a lot of people did. It seemed to Peter that Bucky and Mr. Stark were the only ones that could really crack the older man’s shell. Now, he got to count himself a part of that illustrious group, too.

Working in the garage not only gave him access to the best materials, but the best mind in the car business, too. Tony didn’t spend a lot of time in Peter’s part of the garage – when he did, though, he worked closely with him. Tony always seemed to have a new project for the two of them to work on together, the older man so encouraging in the way he gave advice or taught something that not even Cap really understood or knew how to do. Peter found himself drawn to the older man in lots of ways, many that were probably too inappropriate to really think about – yet, he couldn’t help himself. For the first time in his life, Peter felt a sort of comfortability with another person that he couldn’t even claim to have with Ben or May. Tony’s grasp on ASL and inherent need to be helpful let Peter talk about whatever he wanted and ask all the questions his mind could come up with. His time spent with Tony taught him so much about his passion, the man’s knowledge of cars and the garage environment really was valuable, but his view on life and thoughts about whatever stupid shit came to his head were also so important to Peter. The boy felt like himself around the man and craved the connection between them whenever they weren’t together. He thought for a while that hero worship played a part in the way he felt. Peter did look up to the man for most of his life, after all. Yet, when he thought about the particular feeling that he hadn’t been able to chase away, it didn’t start until Tony started to open up to him – until the older man truly attempted to get to know Peter a little more.

The day of Peter’s 18th birthday stood out in his memory as THE turning point in their relationship. They were working on a new engine design, both gathered around the big computer in Tony’s home lab. They’d been meeting at Tony’s place for a while by then. The first time happened by accident. Elbow deep in grease, Steve suddenly remembered that he left an important receipt for one of the parts on Tony’s counter earlier that day and didn’t have time to get it – so Peter was sent on the errand. The property Tony built his house on felt so grand, Peter pulled into a driveway that reminded him of those fancy roundabouts in front of castles. Yet, it was delicately understated all at the same time. There weren’t huge marble statues or ostentatious lawn ornaments – simply a huge house flanked by a garage that could probably rival what they worked in back at SI. He looked at it with awe for a couple minutes before he decided to break his solitude. He took one more deep breath and enjoyed the vibration of the engine beneath him for another second, then turned the car off. It didn’t surprise Peter a single bit when he spotted Tony leaned against the doorframe of his front door, arms crossed in what he now knew to be what the older man considered to be his most relaxed pose. A soft smile pulled at the other man’s lips, the depth of the smile pulling the cute little lines at the corner of Tony’s eyes to the forefront. Peter returned the look without thought, his hand raising in greeting. Peter forced himself to take another deep breath – the roaring crush he had on the older man decided to peak its head out at the worst possible times. He thought he’d gotten the damn thing under control – but who the fuck was he kidding? A simple smile from the older man made his heart beat hard against his chest, the heat gathering from the force of it dripping into his stomach until he could hardly bare it – his focus completely shot the second he let the feeling overwhelm him. Standing in the man’s driveway was not the place to feel the steady thrum of familiar heat – so he quickly took the stairs to the front door. Tony placed a hand on the small of his back and suddenly the heat took off on its own – fire overtaking every inch of him. After that visit, Tony’s place became a little bit of a sanctuary for Peter, a place he could not only enjoy his time with Tony – but also a place he could give himself just the slightest bit of hope.

The invite to Tony’s place on his birthday didn’t surprise him – the man hosted parties for all his close friends and coworkers at the gorgeous house all the time. The fact that they snuck away from all the people gathered to head to the garage wasn’t all that off the charts, either. Peter spent as much, if not more time in the garage than Tony did – and when they were together, the time seemed to slip away – like nothing else existed but him, Tony, and whatever part they were working on. This time wasn’t any different, either. They were finally able to get his transmission modification generalized and the hope of all three of the cars they’d been working on performing was the final leg to their research. When all three of them struck and managed to switch gears simultaneously, Peter pumped both fists in the air – his excitement crackling in the air around him. He felt Tony wrap an arm around him and tap his shoulder three times – their little silent signal of praise. Despite Tony being able to communicate with him perfectly, Tony still seemed to prefer silence in the garage – especially when Peter was around. They would sign here and there, but there wasn’t a lot of exchange throughout their time together – a thought that at first freaked Peter out, then after some thought fit him just fine. All his life, people expected him to find a way to receive things from them and return the signal their way. Tony didn’t pressure and respected whatever mode of communication Peter felt willing to give and in return, the younger man did the same. The touch lingered for another couple of seconds before Tony pulled away and started walking across the garage. The man had a huge smile on his face when he turned to face Peter again, his hands moving for the first time in a while “This seems like the perfect time for some of the classics,” Tony signed, his hands moving restlessly as he then walked over to a glass cabinet Peter never really paid attention to. With the door open, Peter could see the collection of what he knew to be vinyl – his uncle’s own collection pretty impressive, especially if you asked the man himself. Peter hadn’t ‘listened’ to music since he lost his hearing – but he could remember the sound of all his soulmate’s favorites – the songs way more consistent now than they’d ever been. He wandered over towards the older man, his eyes wide when he saw the cover art for his favorite AC/DC album. “I haven’t heard this album since I lost my hearing,” Peter found himself signing, the boy not mentioning the fact that hearing in his head and hearing with his ears were too totally different things. “I love their stuff. Really miss it, actually.” Peter smiled with his last sign, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Tony didn’t miss a beat – the next second, Peter found his hand being pressed against the speaker. The point of contact between them felt so warm – that all too familiar zing between them settling itself on the surface of Peter’s skin. For a second, he didn’t even think to look towards Tony, Peter’s eyes drooping instead so he could take in the way it felt – to be touched by the very person he craved so badly. When he eventually looked up, Tony was watching him closely, the older man’s gaze a mixture of things Peter didn’t really know how to name. He kept his hand there a second longer, then Tony pulled back and started to sign “Close your eyes and feel the beat. It’s like when you sit down in the car and start it up for the first time – that vibration. Get lost in that heavy thump – I bet it’s almost like hearing it again.” When Tony finished, Peter nodded and closed his eyes. He could immediately feel the vibration Tony was talking about and let the feeling of it pass through his chest. The steady beat changed, picking up a little the closer the song got to the chorus. All of the sudden – Peter could hear the tell-tale sound of Thunderstruck in the back of his head – a soft smile already pulling across his lips, this was one of his soulmate’s favorites. Then, like he was back in his mom’s car all those years ago, Peter felt the song surround him, only this time – it was in his head and below his hand, the drum beat of the song unmistakable now that he was really focusing. What the actual fuck – Peter thought to himself, his eyes flashing open. Quickly, he pushed against Tony’s shoulder – the man halfway through an air guitar riff – the touch eventually getting his attention. “What song are we listening to, Tony?” Peter signed, his sign for Tony emphasized. Tony tilted his head, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Thunderstruck, Pete. One of my all-time favorites,” Tony signed back, his eyes closing again as the powerful ending to the song crept closer.

It took Peter the rest of the song to put the whole thing together. After a considerably long time in the garage together, a delirious Tony told Peter that he couldn’t hear his soulmate anymore. The information came out of the blue – though Peter learned over his time spent with the man that many things were fighting for dominance in the man’s head and he didn’t always have control of what came out. While he told the story, Peter felt his heart breaking ever so slightly – a part of him hoping that maybe – well, that didn’t matter. Watching the person he’d come to love more than anyone in the world break down over something so gut wrenching was absolutely terrible. The man told him how long he waited to hear from that person at the beginning of life, then Peter listened while Tony told him how long ten years felt without the songs he’d come to really count on. The worst part was the sudden nature of it, or so Tony said, anyway. He didn’t know what happened to his person, but he felt a loneliness that most people probably couldn’t understand. Peter couldn’t say anything, so he didn’t – he simply wrapped the man in his arms and pulled him close. If nothing else, Peter understood the silence – the overwhelming need to hear something – anything again.

The suddenness of realizing that Tony stopped hearing his soulmate because his soulmate lost their hearing kept him motionless – the boy still long enough for Tony to look at him weirdly, the older man’s hand coming out to shake his shoulder slightly, even. “You alright, Pete?” Tony said, both his hands and mouth moving this time around – worry evident in his facial expression. Peter nodded, but still felt a little overwhelmed – this realization huge and still entirely too one-sided. “Tony, when did you stop hearing from your soulmate?” Peter signed frantically – his fingers moving fast enough for the signs to seemingly blur together. Tony’s face dropped slightly, his shoulders slumping just from mentioning the situation. It looked like he wasn’t going to answer, but then his raised his hands and signed “ten years.” The look on his face made Peter’s stomach clench despite what Peter now knew. “My soulmates favorite song is Thunderstruck. I’ve been listening to it since I was a child, Tony. That drumbeat – I’ve been listening to it in my head since I can remember,” Peter spoke this time, his voice a little rusty from a lack of use. “I lost my hearing ten years ago. Fuck – Tony, you didn’t lose your soulmate. I – I… just haven’t been able to listen to music – I haven’t had a song in my head in ten years.”

----  

Tony could feel the kid’s eyes on him – the sheer magnitude of Peter speaking to him not getting lost in all the mess of translation. His heart thumped incessantly against his ribcage – the sheer force of it making him feel like it might beat right out of his chest. A part of Tony knew – knew that for whatever reason, Peter was put in his path and belonged there. He didn’t quite understand the way he belonged there for a long time. At first, Tony felt like a mentor, like he could share his knowledge with the kid and help make him better than even Tony could hope for himself. Peter was young and impressionable and Tony felt like he could do some good – he had a lot to offer to someone that could keep up with him. Subtly, that feeling started to change. The more time they spent together, the closer Tony drifted. Peter provided a sort of comfort and excitement that was unnamable and indescribable. Being an almost 40-year-old man feeling butterflies in his stomach for the first time seemed silly, but Tony didn’t think he could name them as anything else. Between his brilliance and ability to pull a laugh from the older man at the drop of a hat, Tony was hooked – and honestly didn’t feel all that bad about it. The realization, thankfully, didn’t come until Peter was almost 18 so Tony didn’t have to feel like he groomed the kid. The natural order of things was slowly starting to work itself out, despite Tony not understanding it completely.

So, Peter’s words weren’t the biggest surprise. Especially after he felt the vibration of the music run through him after he pulled away from Peter. The second the kid’s eyes closed, and he started to feel the music, Tony felt the same sensation – the realization of what that meant something he didn’t want to even think about. What if that wasn’t the case? What if Peter didn’t have a fucking clue what Tony was even talking about? Peter was way too important to the ins and outs of Tony’s everyday life and he would never risk that by making a grand assumption – or scaring the shit out of a young man that could have any person on the planet, regardless of the soulmate situation. But – Peter took the entire ordeal out of his hands and figured it out first. The kid really was much smarter than Tony and not for the first time, he felt so insanely grateful for that fact. He took a second to collect himself, his entire body so overcome that he felt like he might actually faint right then and there. Only after blinking the little black dots from his eyes did Tony even think to reply – his eyes already watery from the stupidly huge magnitude of emotions smacking him in the face. Waiting 39 years for this moment made it feel monumental – yet, the fact that Peter ended up being the one for him – it all sort of made sense, made all of the pieces finally fit together. For someone that spent his entire life putting shit back together, it took him a long time to add himself to that category. It was worth the wait, though – how could the beautiful man in front of him being anything else?

“I didn’t – I mean, I never thought to ask anyone about it. I didn’t know that was a thing and when I met you, our connection seemed so natural that I didn’t question it. Not even a little bit.” Tony said, his lips and fingers moving while the words spilled from him – his eyes still threatening to drip tears the entire time. “This is happening, right?” Tony’s smile was sheepish, but the question so legitimate. The wait for something like this seemed like forever and it felt a little like too good to be true – but also perfect all at the same time. Peter didn’t bother to answer, the younger man’s arms moved to pull him close, instead – their proximity making Tony feel so fucking weak. The perfection of their closeness made him feel a little crazy and his previous question all of the sudden felt silly. This – the connection between them now that they were pressed together so tightly, it felt right. “You’re my soulmate, Pete. Holy fuck,” Tony signed quickly before his hands became otherwise occupied. Both of Tony’s calloused palms cupped Peter’s cheeks, his long fingers found their way into the scruff of hair he could reach on the other. Then, only after Peter looked up and their gazes connected – Tony finally closed the distance between them, his lips sealing over the younger man’s in the most perfect first kiss. His eyes slipped closed and for the first time in his entire life, Tony forgot everything but the feeling of Peter pressed against him and the wet heat of their lips slipping against each other’s.

The kiss lasted until they were both pulling away gasping, Tony’s chest heaving from the lack of oxygen. The pressure on his chest reminded him it was real, though – the flush of his cheeks and the hard hit of his heart in his ears kept him level and in the moment. The moment in which Tony finally found the person on the other side of the line. He kept the grip on Peter’s cheeks for another moment, using it to press their lips together another couple of times before pulling back – needing the use of his hands. “I love you, Peter Parker. Something always told me never to give up, and when you came into my life – the something was so loud. I’m so glad it’s you, Pete.” Slowly, he rubbed across his heart, then finger spelt Peter’s name – the older man changing the sign for Peter right there in front of his eyes. “Mine,” Tony mumbled, his free hand holding both of Peter’s tight.

Peter pulled his hands away and Tony looked up, confusion etched into his brow for a moment, then a smile drifted across his lips when Peter caressed his cheek, a small thumb running across his lips teasingly. “I love you too, Tony. My whole life, I’ve loved you.” Peter said the words, his hands occupying themselves in the depth of the hair on the back of Tony’s head – the younger man’s slimness pressing against him ever so slightly. “I’m glad it was you, too.” The last words were spoken against Tony’s lips, the remnants of them stolen by the kiss that followed shortly after.

[voldemorthatesnose96]

COLORS IN SILENCE

As an only child of one of the most famous painter in the world, Sander Driesen is also expected to be as big as his father. But life takes turn when he sees a Deaf florist boy whose silence could speak a thousand of meanings.

Disclaimer : if there’s any mistake or misintepretation of my Deaf character, PLEASE feel free to dm me to correct it❤️it means a lot to me. Thank you!❤️

Prelude

“You know exactly what to do, right?”

I want to scream “NO!” to his face but I can’t. It’s always the same question for every single time I want to create something on the blank canvas. WHY does he have to think that I always know what to do, when in fact I don’t?! Unknowingly, I grip my pencil too hard.

“Sander?”

“Yes, Dad. I know.” I say with gritted teeth and start to sketch.

My hand always slightly trembles whenever it touches the paper—scared and doubtful. But unfortunately my Dad and many people think that it’s my ‘signature’ move.

What the fuck is that, actually? Are they blind, oblivious or simply stupid?

At first, I’m not sure whether to sketch a silhoutte or a bouquet of flowers but then I remember the dream I had last night about an abandoned castle and the dancing trees which surrounds its ground; of course it’s weird but somehow I feel so entertain when I wake up and that even bring a tiny smile to my face; which is a very rare thing to happen for these past 4 years. So yeah, I’m going to sketch my dream instead.

“Sander, focus!”

“I’m already focused.”

Dad shakes his head, “you curved this line too hard,” he points to the twigs. ”Fix it.”

Trying hard not to roll my eyes at him, I do what I’m told. I’ve never been the kind of person who could remember the tiniest bit of their dream but weirdly enough, I can recall almost everything that happened last night. How I suddenly walked in this forest which grass were humming melodiously everytime I stepped on it, the wind was breezy and peaceful and the abandoned castle was not as scary as it sound. In fact, the interior was still as good as new but the hallway was the most attractive of all—it filled with many beautiful and famous paintings all around the world from van Gogh to Frida Kahlo. All I can think of is magical.

If only my life is just the same.

For almost 7 years now, I create something that hopefully could transport people’s imagination to somewhere else, almost like escapism from their own cages. Wish they could expand their views just by looking at my arts. Sadly, this little world—little happy bubble I create for another humans, I can’t even go there, not anymore. Day by day, I feel like a robot. Sure as hell my Dad isn’t the right person for me to talk to about my worries and stuff—he won’t understand, he doesn’t want to understand. He’s a famous oil-painter and his arts are frequently exhibited in the most popular art galleries in the world. He was taking a break for 2 years when Mum died; I was 3 that time. Funny, I never feel sad whenever I think of her. For me, she’s just a distant memory that I could never grasp.

“Stop.”

My Dad’s voice startles me and my hand stops instantly.

“What now?” I genuinely ask.

“I think you should take a rest.”

Okay. This is weird.

“But I’m not tired.”

My Dad sighs. His brows furrows, “just do it, son. You can continue later. For now, rest.” And without saying another word, he walks out from the room and closes the door behind him while I just stand there.

I have no fucking idea why he suddenly acts like that. This is the first time since many years ago and I can’t help but feeling curious. Dad is never a warm person around me. All he cares about is to carve me to be someone just like him, to be the perfect artist, to be... everything he were and I used to be so supportive of his ideas, without questioning a single thing; like a good son should be. It all changed though.

For almost 3 years now, I constantly feel hollow and unsatisfy about my arts. Whatever I do to make it right, whenever I try to fix it, these feelings are still there; lingering, waiting for me to collapse at last. Know what? I almost relent. For whatever reason.

If I believe in miracle, maybe this is how it works because I’m still here and doing what I’m supposed to do. But right now, Dad’s right. I need a rest. Maybe even some sleep.

Our art room have a tiny bed in the corner and I sleep there more often that I did in my own room. I used to locked myself in this room for hours just to finish the new art I’m making and Dad never asked if I’m okay or not. Maybe it’s normal for him. The way artist should behave, I guess.

I plop myself on the bed while staring at the white ceiling, waiting for the sleep to take me away. It doesn’t take long for me to finally give in and once again, for so many nights, my heart screams “help...”

————————

School isn’t that hard today. In fact, I enjoy what I learnt. Cubism isn’t my favorite style because it’s too... rigid? I don’t know how to describe it. But the new professor was very clear and creative about it and she made me not wanted to get out of the class and eat in the cafetaria instead. The class dismiss before I know it. Wow. That’s fast.

“Yo, Sandy!”

Without looking I already know who that is because there’s only one person in this world that would call me with the name SANDY and that is Hugo Mulligan; my only friend in the entire school since the day we met as the Freshmen.

“Not in the mood, Mulligan,” I mutter under my breath as I pack stuffs in my red duffel bag. “go away!”

He scoffs, “you’re no fun.”

“And since when Sander Driesen is a fun person to be with?” I retort.

“For once in my life, I agree with you.”

I roll my eyes and he laughs.

“Actually I want to ask you a favour. If you’re not busy today.”

“No. What’s that?”

“I need to go to the bakery and the flower shop.”

“What for?”

Hugo sighs, “today is Violet’s birthday. I told you many times before.”

Oh yeah. His girlfriend’s birthday. An exchanged student from Boston a year ago. Since Hugo met her, he literally never stops talking about how cute and pretty she is—the perfect girl for his dark world, he said, which I thought is bullshit because Hugo’s world is far from dark. I know because I met his family couple times and they’re all lovely, caring and hilarious. Dad as a lawyer, Mum as a chef and two incredibly beautiful male twins who’s not yet 3 years old—Hugo loves them all and it’s clearly seen. So yeah, no ‘dark’ for him at all.

“Earth to Driesen!”

I blink, “yeah, sure. I’ll come.”

“Your Dad is okay with it?”

“He’s in Florence and won’t be back until two days later. It’s fine.”

Hugo claps his hands like a little kid who just got a flashy new toy. A bit overreacted but I never really mind about it. Being friends with someone like him is tiring at some point because his energy seems to never put out but I gradually getting use to it.

“Cool! I’ll drive!”

I never really like to drive my own car. Dad often insists me to use it instead of taking a bus everyday to school and I tell him many times that I don’t want to; probably the only thing that I still hold on against my Dad and I have no regrets, at all.

When me and Hugo finally on the road, he talks about the dinner plan he’s been working on for this past week and my dumbass brain can’t think of anything so I just nod and say “that’s great” as a response. I’m glad he’s too happy about Violet to notices my reaction.

“.... I think it’ll be the perfect opportunity to ask her on a mini getaway for 2 weeks. What do you think?”

“Perfect.”

“I was thinking about Santorini or Lake Como. Which one do you think is more suitable for her?”

I nearly scoff but hold myself back, “you can take her to Sahara desert and she’s still gonna love you.”

Hugo smiles at my witty remarks, “guess you’re right.” And then he starts to sing loudly to The Weeknd.

We arrive at the bakery not long after. I remember this place is kinda new because it used to be an Italian restaurant. Strange how small detail could take space in your memory, even for an useless information like this.

Though I have to admit that their decoration and cakes are visually pleasing. I even intrigue to try their paris-brest.

“Take whatever you want, Sandy. It’s on me.” Hugo said as he waits in the queue and even gives a smirk when he catches me almost drooling.

“I’ll just take that paris-brest.”

“How many?”

“Two.”

Hugo nods, “sure. Take a seat and wait for me, would you? I won’t be long.”

But of course there isn’t any empty seat left because this place is full. So I go outside and wait there, a bit annoyed that I didn’t bring cigarette with me today.

I watch people passing by and mentally sketching their silhouttes to kill some time but the more I try to make it vivid, the more blur it is in my mind—so I give up. My hands trembles for an unknown reason but obviously not because of the spring breeze.

“I’m done. Let’s go!”

I follow Hugo back to his car and luckily my hands are alright now. The last thing I want Hugo to see was the tremble. I don’t want him to look at me weirdly or worse, concerned.

“Here’s your cake, Sandy.”

If I’m in the mood, I’ll smack his head with my bag for calling me that but today I have no energy.

“Thanks. Gonna eat these at home.”

“You can gobble ‘em up here if you want. I don’t mind.”

I smile, “I’ll save these guys for tonight. Best thing always come late.”

“If you say so,” then Hugo looks at his watch and mutters. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I completely forgot that the flower shop will closed in 20 minutes! God, I’m so dumb!”

“Is it still far away?”

“About 10 minutes but not with THIS traffic.”

I examine the road and realise that there’s a car crash. The ambulance already there and one of the car is wrecked almost thoroughly. I hope there are no children involved. What a terrifying sight to see.

“Stop looking, Sander,” Hugo says, his tone is always serious whenever he calls me by my real name. “It’s no good.”

“I just hope they’re alright.”

Hugo doesn’t say anything but his hands on the wheel go rigid. I notice that immediately but doesn’t say anything. For more than 2 years we’ve been friends, this is the first time I witness him being like this.

“They’ll be alright. They have to.” His voice sounds icy cold but worries at the same time.

His sudden remark startles me, “I hope so too.”

After that, none of us talk to each other until his car stop near the flower shop. I think there’s nothing special or extravagant about this place, considering how Hugo loves being surrounded by something over the top sometimes. Well, maybe he does have layers that I don’t know yet—especially after what happened earlier.

“You stay?”

“I’ll go with you.”

Because it’s boring to wait alone again rather than curious of what’s inside, to be honest.

“I’m lucky the shop isn’t closed yet,” Hugo says with a shaky breath. “Violet would be pleased, right?”

I smile genuinely, “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself, pal. Relax. She’ll love you no matter what.”

He gives me a nervous smile as a response.

When I enter the shop, I’m not surprised how simple but clean this place is. Lots of different scent from each flowers catches my nose almost instantly, all at once and I can’t help but sneezes twice.

“Excuse me.” I say while wiping my mouth with a handkerchief.

“Robbie, my man!”

Hugo half-shouting voice make me jump and I follow his gaze; it’s the shop clerk, a guy around my age with unruly brown hair and a pair of eyes like Bambi, wears a green sweatshirt which a little too big for him.

“Cute.”

Shit.

Did I just say ‘cute’ that loud?

“Huh? What did you say?”

“Cute,” I say a little too quickly. “The flowers. They’re cute.”

I force myself to past a glance to that brown-haired guy and he seems doesn’t catch what I just said about him. Thank God. Even though Hugo still looks at me with bemused expression. He’s the first person who knows that I’m a Pansexual and probably the only person in this world—and I’m not definitely not gonna come out to Dad anytime soon. There’s no use.

“Can we hurry? I’m hungry.” I try to change the subject.

It works. Hugo turns his head again to the cute guy and made some gestures I don’t understand.

Wait...

Gestures?

Can it be... that guy...

“Robbie,” he mouths while doing all he can to communicates using sign languages. “My flowers for Violet, please.”

The guy named Robbie smile and nod then later went to the back to get Hugo’s order.

“Hugo, does he...”

“Deaf. Yes.”

“Robbie. That’s his real name?”

“No, it’s Robbe but I call him Robbie just like I love to call you Sandy.”

I roll my eyes to my brain, “fuck you, man. You can’t just changed someone else’s name.”

Hugo gives me a smirk, “I just did, Sandy.”

Before I can say anything, Robbe comes back with HUGE bouquet which consists with any kind of red flowers from rose to tulip. I almost sneeze again but successfully hold myself back.

“Don’t you dare sneeze on my precious bouquet, Driesen!”

“I wasn’t.” I retort but give him my most smug face.

“You’re funny.”

“Sorry?”

“Robbie said you’re funny.”

I look at Robbe and there’s a smile appeared on his face—deadass looking at me in the eyes too. Seems like this guy is very straight-forward and unapologetic.

“Uh... thanks, I guess?”

Robbe shrugs but still smiling. Then he writes something on a piece of paper and gives it to me : “would you like some flowers too? It’s on me.”

I look up, perplex and say, “why?”

He writes again : “because I think you need one :)”

This is interesting.

“Well, okay then. Thank you. What will you give to me?”

Why do I sound more flirty than curious? For God’s sake, he’s a stranger! STRANGER! And I dare to sound like THAT? The fuck is wrong with me?

Hugo snorts beside me. He’s clearly been enjoying himself. But again, I also laughed too hard when he told me the story about him been slipping and falling in front of everybody at his family’s business private party; so yeah, I guess I deserve that snort.

Robbe comes back from the back of the room holding a simple bouquet; there were two Eglantines, one Iris and three Larkspurs. I didn’t speak flowers so I’m not sure why he gives me those but when he hands it to me, I accept it wholeheartedly and say thank you. Robbe smiles and makes some sign that I’m sure it’s meant for “you’re welcome”.

My ears catch a girl’s voice entering the shop. She’s also around my age; with blue eyes, auburn hair and very pretty. Her eyes twinkled like the sun is shining on them.

“Afternoon, everybody,” she says cheerfully and then walks toward Robbe and pecks his lips. “Hey babe! Glad you made new friends.”

Ouch!

So he’s already have a girlfriend and that realisation stings me a little. And I DARED to ‘flirt’ with her boyfriend earlier!

But of course he is. I shouldn’t be surprised. Beside, they looks nice together.

Hugo nudges my arm, “you ready to go?”

I nod and and without saying another word again, I force myself to get out from there. Damn. I should say something to Robbe but I just can’t.

“You okay?”

“Fine. Can we go home now? I’m tired.”

“Sure.”

Ever since I broke up with my ex around a year ago because she cheated, my heart always told me not to trust any kind of affection towards other people. I keep questioning myself what did I do wrong, about her and about us—and whenever I ask her about that, she says “it’s not you, it’s ME. I’m sorry. So sorry, Sander!” . But it only took a month for me to forgave her and know what? We’re friends now, even though she moves to another city with her new boyfriend. Sometimes life can be very strange. I thought she’s unforgivable but seem like I can’t hold grudges for too long—Hugo told me that it’s a bad thing but... I don’t know, part of me doesn’t agree with him for an unknown reason.

“He meant well, you know?”

My thoughts bursts like a bubble, “what?”

“Robbe,” Hugo mutters. “With those flowers.”

I look at my new given bouquet, “you know the meaning of these guys?”

“Well, I coincidentally understand the meaning of those,” Hugo says. “You see, my Mum often bring back Iris home to tell the whole house that good news is coming, Larkspur is my Dad’s favorite because it meant “lightness” and you’re gonna find a vase full of them in his study and the last one which is Eglantine is literally speaks for “I wound to heal” , it was my Grandma’s favorite because it reminded her of her childhood home. And that’s that.”

Now I understand why Robbe ‘said’ that I need some of his flowers but the most surprising part was he seems to understand what I feel just by a single glance.

But it can’t be, can it? It can be just a coincidence that he picks those flowers for me. Maybe they’re the most best-seller kinds there and he thought I might like them too.

And I do. I really, really do.

[lovemesomesurveys]

[created by: allwrongx - Bzoink]

Did you want to be a lost boy when you were younger? (I did.) “Neverland is home, to lost boys like me.”

If you have a job, what is the longest shift that you've worked? I don’t have a job.

Do you listen to Mayday Parade? No.

Would you ever get a tattoo of somebody's autograph (famous or not? No.

Do you know all of the words to the Bohemian Rhapsody? Not all the words, no, but a lot of them.

^ Do you sing it with all of the different voices? Ha, I’d be lying if I said I never tried.

Also, have you seen The Muppets' version of it? No.

If you could live in any eighties movie, which would be? Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. 

Have you ever watched the tv show 'The Big Bang Theory'? I’ve seen bits here and there and just could never get into it. I didn’t find it funny.

Is there a school subject that you detest, or did, but still did well in? I managed to do okay in my sciences classes even though I didn’t enjoy them.

Do you have a Pandora account? If so, what are your stations? I do. I haven’t used it in several years, though, so I don’t remember. 

Have you ever visited a castle? The one at Disneyland, ha.

Do you own more than one copy of a certain book? No.

Were you raised in a very Disney-friendly home? Yes. A lot of my family loves Disney.

You watch an old lady put a quarter in a slot machine and then walk away. You then pull the lever and SURPRISE you win the jackpot. What do you do? I wouldn’t even mess with it in the first place. I’d ponder a bit about why she did that and just walked away, but would probably assume she was going to come back. 

Would you attend a school/class that taught about rock music? Nah.

Have you ever watched the tv show Lost? I have not.

Do you like interpreting poetry or just reading it for fun? I don’t really read any poetry.

Do you feel that people are entitled to their own opinions? Yes. 

If I loaned you Doc's DeLorean, would you go to the past or the future? I’d go to the past. Would you enjoy taking a flying bus to school? I don’t think so.

Which superhero or villain would you want as your best friend? Wanda Maximoff. She loves old sitcoms and so do I, we could binge a ton together.

Do you have a favorite Dr. Suess book? Well, now I think they’re all under review because a lot of attention was drawn recently to like 6 of his more obscure books for being racist. I don’t know about the more popular ones. I enjoyed a lot of Dr. Seuss’ books as a kid and it was a big thing in school growing up, like we celebrated his birthday and spent the day reading his books. We were even offered green eggs and ham for lunch. I don’t remember anything bad in the books I read of his, but admittedly it’s been quite awhile since I’ve read them.

Are you good at reading people? I think so. 

Do you prefer Red Vines or Twizzlers? Red Vines all the way. Twizzlers taste like plastic.

How do you feel about the colored feathers in the hair trend? I’m not familiar with that trend.

Do you watch The Walking Dead? If so, favorite character? Nope. I’ve never had an interest in watching that show. I’m not into the zombie thing. Do you like or try to believe in the goodness of people? Yes.

What are we going to do tomorrow night, Pinkie? Same thing we do every night, try to take over the world! Also, it’s Pinky who asks Brain that by the way. That show and Animaniacs have been brought back with new episodes on Hulu, but I have yet to check them out.

Do you have a go-to memory for whenever you're feeling sad or mad? I dwell on the past all the time, so.

Has anyone ever bought you a snowglobe? Yes.

Do you own a 'lucky' piece of clothing? I don’t believe in luck.

Why is Waldo always hiding? Or is he not even hiding? He wants to be left alone, but people won’t just let him be.

Have you received any cards in the mail this year? No.

Star Wars, yay or nay? Yay. I love Star Wars.

What is your go-to comfort food? Ramen and Wingstop.

Can you bowl a turkey? Ha, I didn’t know what that meant until I Googled it. I assumed it had to do with cooking a turkey, but nope.

Do you like big flashy rings? No.

Have you ever used a Polaroid camera? Yeah, we had one when I was a kid. And now they have those Instapix cameras. 

Is there a particular glass/cup that you 'have' to use? Nah, we have a lot of glasses and mugs to choose from.

Have you ever read an entire comic book series? Nope.

Do you own a pair of moccasins? No.

Would you like to do a road trip in an RV of all 50 states? I don’t know about a trip that big, but I would like to do a road trip visiting various places in a RV.

Do you make lists for just about everything? I make lists here and there on my phone.

[loveless-undying]

This is the story of my time with the girl in my last post.

She had the worst life I think anyone could have but she still hoped and smiled. Man, she could dream up anything and loved to make jokes. I loved to hear her sing and we would sing together on the bus going home from school.

She was raped when she was very young, she didn't tell me by who, but it hurt her to talk about it. People used her for sex and it was awful how she was treated by 'boyfriends' and 'significant' others. But she told me that one time she had met someone at a old school and he never laid a hand on her. They loved each other but she left sooner than she thought.

She ended up at my hellhole school and was raped again and the same things happened. I met her the second day on the school bus and she was acting like a dumbass on the bus and was put in the second seat up front. Before she got seated up front I asked her name but she told me to mind my own business. I called the bus driver a bitch and my friend, not a friend at the time, snitched on me. I ended up sitting beside her. We talked and became fast friends. I finally found out her name, Mersadies. She had long, straight brown hair. It was like dark chocolate and her eyes were the exact same. She was so, so beautiful. I felt so happy at that moment. Now I look back and I have a video on my phone of that moment. Me and my friend, Daniel, looked at that video and cried. Daniel was one of her ex's and he loved her too. Hell, everyone of our friends loved her.

I was getting bullied a lot and kids put notes in my locker telling me to go and kill myself. She found out and watched my locker and somehow the notes stopped. She told me that my life mattered no matter what anyone else told me.

After that we spent a lot more time than usual. We had only one class but we had break and lunch too. At gym we would get into all sorts of chaos together. She had severe depression and traumatic attacks (I don't know the exact words but it's different from a panic/anxiety attack). She would end up cutting herself and one time she did that in the corner of the gym. No one else really cared but I ran and took away the plastic form she was using. I ran to throw it away but when I came back she was gone. I looked and she was underneath the bleachers in the tiniest crevice. She asked me if I told on her and I told her I would never say anything unless she wanted me too.

As I look back now, I wonder if anything would have changed if I had.

I fell in love with her soon after that. I don't know why but it just happened. She found out and she got two of our friends to kidnap me and throw me into the lobby of the gym. She was going to kiss me but I chickened out. She said that was okay but we held hands in the bus going home.

I'd go back and change that memory.

We all knew she was getting severely bullied and after our attempts to stop it, it didn't. We was the social outcasts. We didn't participate in sports, the popular class or even try to be popular. We was and still are our own type of losers. Our vice principal is the biggest douchebag and sat there when we asked him to do something about it. He put me in ISS for trying to take up for her.

One day we skipped classes together and decided to sit outside on the concrete bleachers. I live in a small town in Alabama and around the time of year it was, the sun was setting around five-ish. So, at three the sunlight was the prettiest. We just sat there and talked about the stupidest things.

I would ask her a question about herself, like her favorite colour, she would reply red. Shed ask another and it would go on. It was like the 20 questions game but neverending. One day we sat there, it was just before winter break and it was cold enough to see our breath. She told me that she didn't want to be alone forever and wished that someone would love her. I just blurted out like an idiot that I would marry her of she ever got lonely. She laughed and smiled. I felt so awkward but relieved when she said that she'd love to be my bride. Then we just sat there and talked like we always did. A few days after that was winter break so we didn't talk much until after New year's.

After that we went back to school.y mom had bought me a flannel red coat. Coincidentally her mom bought one exactly like it and occasionally we would switch it. I ended up with hers and she had mine. Her mom had also bought her three wavy rings. One was really big and the other two were smaller and when you put them together they fit. It was really cool and we skipped classes again to go to our usual spot.

We had our matching jackets and she turned and asked me to marry her. She was joking and said that I should make what I said a promise. She gave me the bigger ring and she wore the two smaller rings. After that we ran to our classes.

One day I was hanging out with my friend around a concrete barrier in front of my house. I love right by the highway too so I see most of the traffic. It was a hour and a half after school and I saw her walking home. Now her house was at the far end of town and it was a two miles. Her mom ended up calling the police and she was though to have run away. In actually she ended up hanging out with my friend Daniel and forgot about time. I called her to my spot and we were talking. The police showed up and I hid her behind the concrete wall in a pile of rocks. My friend and I both lied and they left. We got her home as soon as we could. She thanked me and I wished I could have taken her home.

A couple months passed and it was great. Though as we know, all good things must come to an end. She was going to be homeschooled because of her being bullied. Her last day she gave me her two rings, a kiss on the cheek, and told me that she'll never forget me.

I lived the rest of my year like and idiot and failed 7th grade. I took it as a chance and got homeschooled too. I didn't forget her or any of my friends. I was gone for a year.

Most of my friends turned on her and called her name's behind her back. At an event called Beach Reach, where we help the community and talk about Jesus Christ, we found out she had taken her life. That day they talked all sorts of crap about her. I still loved her and I never intended to say anything. Daniel and a few others said nothing either.

I never cried so much in my life.

I still cry.

It been a year and a half. I still have the rings, I still have the red flannel jacket. Dyllen has a note from her calling him sexy. Daniel has a letter with a lipstick kiss on it. All of us have something to help is cope and remember it. After all, we all loved her. I loved her more than I loved all of my friends.

I hope that one day that when I die that I'll be able to see her again and we'll talk like we did on the concrete bleachers.

Peace out

Loveless_undying

[deakysbabybooty]

Queen and The Boys™️ as my school experiences

Freddie

“I went on a date with Elton once. It didn’t go well so I married my wife”

“Give us a twirl!” after I walk into class wearing a XXL white shirt looking splattered with blood

“Every time there’s an awkward silence a gay David is born”

Brian

Any teacher that has a class pet

My biology teacher showing off my pregnant frog during dissection day

The history teacher that had his former students paint Bob Ross on his classroom wall

The two basketball players that were 6’11” and 7’4” that loved when the younger kids would measure their growth spurts based on how far up on his arm they could get

My AP psych teacher saying “bright lights” before turning on the lights after a video, then on the last day of class, saying “I conditioned all of you. My work here is done”

Roger

The kid in my Spanish class that accidentally nutted on his black uniform pants in the bathroom one day

One day @blindboytaylor (b) bra broke in half in the middle of running laps during PE

One time my best friend and I were fighting. He shoved me up against a bus and playfully choked me, so I ball tapped him. Halfway home we got in a fist fight in a gas station. Nobody tried to break us up

“It’s called falsetto, Jack. Stop screaming and learn how to use it”

My chorus director always keeping tempo by slamming one, singular finger down on the edge of the piano, and never once saying “ow”. It could be heard from the other side of the room no matter how much talking was going on

John

Orchestra director wearing a Christmas pattern three piece suit for the Christmas assembly

My AP gov teacher missing three days of class so he could go see Adele

Wearing a Santa onesie on the last day before break

“You guys are going to get divorced because you can’t follow the rules” because we talked during announcements

Me ripping my nuts open jumping into the splits during we will Rock you in PE

All the techies rolling around like spies then holding up finger guns during “your dad May be a super spy but you’re freakin Jason Bourne”

My English teacher always moving her legs back and forth while standing

Rami

My PE squad’s periods all syncing up, and @blindboytaylor (b) ominously saying “I am the alpha” because we synced up to hers

“It was a flaccid handshake!!!! You can’t have a flaccid handshake!!!!”

“Actually, the principal was my basketball coach, the old principal was my principal, and the headmaster’s my father in law”

Gwil

ALL of my friends calling my favorite teacher “daddy” when I just saw him as a dad

“I don’t care if you sleep in my class but prop your head up so I feel like you’re paying attention”

Bringing a puppy to class just to distract the teacher

“If I could get dinner with any person, I’d choose Oprah. Have you seen her smile? It’s beautiful”

At a memorial for a tragedy, I went up to dad teacher and hugged him and started crying, and he wouldn’t let me walk away until my breathing was normal again

Ben

Walking into class in an Ariel onesie with a large pizza, two liter of Mountain Dew, and a tube of cookie dough, with the angriest look on my face

Sleeping on top of a desk during class after bringing my pillow and blanket to school

The one time @blindboytaylor (i) said hi to me in the hall and I was so flustered I forgot to say hi back

“Shut up jack”

“Dylan, you need to get in character if you expect me to flirt with you!”

Joe

“One time I didn’t let go when I fell off of a wakeboard, and now my buttcrack is a scar”

My friend ripping her khakis in PE after jumping into the splits

“They’re having another election? They just put Brexit into office” “brexit isn’t a person. It’s Britain leaving the EU” “oh my God don’t tell anyone this happened”

My entire AP gov class singing “all star” during a power outage in a tornado

The ENTIRE student body doing gangnam style and the Harlem Shake back to back

The Instagram page that’s just a fan blog for our Bible teacher

My friend running into my classroom screaming “TROLL IN THE DUNGEON...just thought you ought to know” bc I told him I was sad

“Did you know that Dave was his basketball coach, Chris was his principal, and I’m his father in law?”

[purplesurveys]

546

Are we alike?

You pretty much always have a cup of tea or a bottle of water with you. I do bring my Hydroflask with me to school everyday. I love my water, lol.

You think enjoying the moment is more important than catching it on camera. I mean, it kinda depends. There are some moments that I know are way too significant, so I’d take one or two photos just so I’d have some sort of souvenir that would, over time, be more reliable than my memory. Case in point, I definitely danced my heart away at my Paramore show, but I took 15-second videos for a couple of songs I really liked. You enjoy watching documentaries. I don’t have the time nowadays, but I love them. The last one I watched is Netflix’s docu about Fyre Festival. You spend most of your time alone and have no close relationships. As shy as I am, I like being around people. You joined Pottermore and were sorted into Gryffindor.

You have a dry and sarcastic sense of humour. I can.  Long, dark winter nights drain you. Summer is by far your favourite season and lifts your mood a lot. If I’m not otherwise spending a day at the beach, I HATE summer. A lot of the time you have to laugh at your own bad luck. I always catch the red light. I’m ALWAYS the first car in line that’s caught behind a red light. Gabie knows this for fact that whenever it happens we just laugh it off. Your mood plummets if you don't follow a health and fitness routine. Your favourite ever music video is Lana Del Rey's Ride. I don’t care for Lana Del Rey. You love lazy summers spent going for walks and lounging in the garden. Meh, not really. I don’t like being alone with my thoughts, which is what walking and lounging would do for me. I prefer going out with a friend or two. You love to spend your time lost in a good book. I like when books are able to catch my attention for long, but it’s not my favorite pastime. You watch American Horror Story and Asylum is your favourite season so far. You've overcome a lot over the last year but have slipped up recently. After N passed, my backlog grew bigger because I didn’t want to deal with work after losing someone so suddenly. You prefer sitting exams to completing coursework. I usually feel lazy to do fieldwork or labwork, and my strong suit is memorizing stuff and writing essays, so.

You love long car journeys spent listening to music. So long as it’s music I find pleasurable, or something I can sing along to. You find learning about how people lived in the past interesting. That’s why I’m taking an elective this semester called Social History of the Philippines. That class is literally about how Filipinos used to deal with hygiene, how they used to cook, the games kids played, how they dealt with sicknesses before modern medicine took over. It’s one of my favorite classes that I’ve ever taken.

Your parent's closed-minded attitudes frustrate you. I mean, anyone who is close-minded can be frustrating. 

You've grown very used to loneliness. I had no friends for many years, so yeah. I mean most days I like being around people, but there are still some times I do want to shut the world out, delete all my social media (except Tumblr so I can keep taking surveys ha), turn on airplane mode on my phone so no one texts, and spend the whole day with my coloring books. You prefer getting up early and having productive mornings. I always hated getting up early, from all the way back in kindergarten. You try to enjoy dancing in public but you still feel very awkward. This, especially in parties. Even when I’m already drunk I still hate it, and I prefer being with my friends at the side of the dance floor. You can't even be bothered to hold grudges and find them pointless. Winona Ryder is one of your favourite actresses. She’s not my FAVORITE favorite but I have a soft spot for her. You don't find award shows very interesting. You have no patience for people who are glued to their phones. I once saw this Expectation/Reality comic on Facebook, with the Expectation side showing people all glued to their phones while riding the bus and how it’s ~ruining society. The Reality pane, in actuality, shows that all these people on their phones were actually talking to their loved ones – one was saying how she was on her way to the hospital and can’t wait to meet her newborn niece, another was congratulating her friend for passing an exam, another was complimenting her friend for her pretty plant. Ever since then when I see people on their phones, I don’t get as annoyed about it cos for all I know they can be having a very special conversation. You're a bit of a hypochondriac. You enjoy warm evenings spent doing yoga in the garden. Sunsets are one of your favourite things about the planet. You prefer to avoid medication but appreciate it's necessary sometimes. I avoid it because it’s expensive, and I know my parents won’t be willing to help me out with mine because there are more important things to pay for. I do realize that I may need it, though. You find talking to older people easier than talking to ones your own age. It’s very hard to find older people who are pleasant to talk to in this country, because almost every Boomer and X-er are close-minded and conservative. You're naturally quiet and content with being that way. I can sit with someone somewhere, not talk for hours, and it wouldn’t mean that I don’t like them. Your handwriting seems to change every time you pick up a pen. It’s been pretty consistent through the years. You dislike the thought of ever being dependent on anybody. Texting bores you and you'd rather just make a phone call. You like to hear about other people's music tastes. Talking about music bores me, lowkey. You prefer to keep your living space clean and tidy. It’s certainly more relaxing to look at. Anxiety controls you more than you'd like to admit. I’m very aware of just how much it controls me lmao. You can hardly even cope with being around people because of it. You can't decide whether you prefer cities or countryside. Cities. Always. You're pretty much incapable of ever relaxing. 7 classes for this semester, thesis year, and executive positions in both my org and our college’s graduation committee. Weekends like this where I can take more than one survey are ridiculously rare. You like discovering and being introduced to new music. Your favourite song by The Smiths is What Difference Does It Make. You procrastinate things you don't feel capable of doing perfectly. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA yeah these ones I keep to the very back of the line. You keep pretty much everything to yourself. I don’t think so. I tell my best friends everything. You have quite a temper but you're good at controlling it. I’ve done things while angry before and regretted them, so I’ve learned to control my temper. You much prefer skirts and dresses to jeans. Welp I hate skirts, but I like dresses. And I HATE jeans. You're not really a fan of alcohol anymore. Your parents let you down when you needed them the most. This only applies to my mom. You have a pretty awful relationship with your mum and it upsets you. It doesn’t upset me; I’ve grown used to it over the years. You dream of finding a sense of belonging somewhere. You're a fan of The Cure. You love doing toning exercises, especially stomach workouts. I hate exercising. Patience is definitely not a trait of yours. You don't expect anybody to take an interest in you or be there for you. Keyword being expect. The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me is one of your favourite albums. You're a university student. Yeah huh. And expected to end in a year, too. You waste too much time on Tumblr and the internet in general. Not so much on Tumblr, but we do need the internet to do nearly everything now, don’t we? You're an Arctic Monkeys fan. You've read and loved The Outsiders by S.E Hinton. Based on this, are we alike? I think I left more entries than I bolded, so it’s probably safe to say not really.

[avenging-fandoms]

December 7th - In the snow {Peter Parker}

requested by anonymous: kissing in the snow

christmas time was your favorite time of the year, the decorations, the snow, everything. you also loved when the city had all its christmas decorations and lights, and even if it was the same things every year, you loved going with your boyfriend peter. but this year, something came up and peter couldn’t make it, but a buddy of his filled his shoes.

you slip off your jacket, putting it on the hook of your locker and grabbing your chemistry book. you shut your locker, and peter grabs onto your waist. you smile and turn around, giving him a tiny kiss. “well g’morning, my boy”

“morning, m’love. how’d you sleep?” you shrug, holding his hand as you walk to class. “not that good?”

“no, not really, but it’s fine. i can get some tonight now that we’re going to the city” you smile and peters frowns, and your smile drops. “oh no, peter..”

“i’m sorry, but something came up with tony and i can’t make it. i’m sure someone else could fill my shoes! i just can’t miss this. please understand” he holds your jaw, thumb rubbing over your cheek. you nod, giving a tiny smile. 

“i understand completely” you give him a kiss and he smiles a bit after you pull away. “i have to get to class, i’ll see you at lunch” he frowns as your fingers slip from his, watching as you walk away. once you were out of sight, he turned away and headed to his own class.

you rode on the school bus quietly, your ‘peter<3′ playlist cancelling out the noise of the loud boys who were yelling at each other, even though they were a couple feet away from each other. you clicked the lock button on your phone, your screen illuminating your face as you text peter that you’ll miss him and take photos for him to see. you hit the home button and stare at the photo of you and peter from last year in front of the Rockefeller tree. 

you lock it when the bus comes to a stop in front of your apartment building, waving goodbye to your friends and hopping off the bus. you twirl the headphone cord around your finger, unlocking your front door with the spare key from under the light. 

on the couch, sat a new winter coat, gloves, and a hat. you smile and drop your bag, picking up the note that was sitting on top of the gift. 

‘mr. stark felt bad, so he got you some goodies. and i also got you something that’s sitting on the bed. -s.m”

you gather the gifts and set them on your bed, putting your backpack on the computer chair, smiling at the box sitting on your pillow. you sit on the bed and kick off your shoes, opening the note. 

“use this and make memories, i can’t wait to see them tomorrow. happy early christmas <3 , p.p.”

you pull out a new camera and gasp, smiling widely. you check it out, and it already had a photo on it, a photo of peter smiling. you chuckle, turning it off and putting it back in its box. you phone starts to ring, and it’s a facetime call from peter. you prop your phone up on your vanity, saying hello before you move out of frame to change.

“wait, where’d you go?” 

“i’m changing, hold on” you chuckle and slid on a pair of jeans and a sweater, sitting down at your vanity and smiling. “here i am”

“ah, there’s my baby!” he smiled and you laugh. you brush and fix your hair, happy with how you looked. “you look so cute. god i wish i could go with you tonight”

you frown, falling on your bed. “i know me too. oh! are you with tony? is he around?”

“uh, yeah, why?”

“can i speak to him?”

“yeah, hold on. uh, mr. stark?”

“yeah, what’s up kid?”

“y/n wants to speak to you” the camera shook a bit before it landed on tony and you smiled. 

“ah, y/n! what’s going on?”

“i just wanted to thank you for the gifts, they’re really nice” you smile and he nods, smiling as well.

“oh no need to thank me. since i was stealing the kid from you i wanted to show you i’m sorry. well, y/n, peter and i have to get going, so we’ll talk to you later”

the phone is passed back to peter. “alright, bye, i love you!”

“i love you too” he quickly hangs up and you turn on music, locking your phone and frowning. you stare at your ceiling as you listen to the lyrics. you sing along to the songs quietly, tapping your finger on the top of your hand.

you lock the front door, stuffing your hands in your new coat. you walk down the sidewalk, a headphone in your ear as you tried to distract yourself. 

“hey, where you going?” you roll your eyes, ignoring the stupid cat callers. “we’re talking to you!” their footsteps get louder and you speed up, but they get louder and closer. 

“no!” you scream, but you were taken up from the ground and you scream, closing your eyes. the wind was powerful, but you weren’t on the ground anymore. you open your eyes and smile.

“hey!” spider-man greeted and you laughed, hugging him tightly. he lands on top of a building, and you give a tighter hug. “nice to see you too, babe”

“i thought.. tony..”

“he felt bad, he could tell you were upset so he let me come” you hold his face and his hands rest on your waist, and you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. you slip off his mask, holding it in your hands as you connect your lips with his, your arms wrapping around his neck. he smiles and holds you closer, if that was even possible. you jump back as something cold touches your cheek, and you look up, snowflakes falling on your face. you smile, looking back at peter who had snowflakes in his hair.

“where’s that camera of yours?” he winks and you pull it out, peter taking it and snapping a couple photos. one of you kissing his cheek, another him kissing yours, and another of you two kissing, the snow really making the photos better. he hands it back to you, and you put it back. he holds your jaw, nose rubbing against yours, fingers linking in the belt loops of your jeans. “why don’t we go back to your apartment, watch some movies, and.. get warm? the city will always be there”

“mm, i like that idea” you give him one last kiss before you slip his mask on and hold onto him tightly, and he brings you two back to your apartment in the matter of 5 minutes. you open your window and you both climb in, and peter takes off his suit. you can’t help but stare as you slip off your own clothes and he turns around, and your mouth waters more. 

“see something you like?” he asks and slips on sweatpants, and you put on sweatpants and a t-shirt. he keeps his shirt off, and walks over to you. you place your hands on his chest, running it up and down. 

“oh, you bet your ass i do”

[maplestreetsims]

get to know me tag!

so, i came to catfish you all with my updated simself, also i made her with alpha cc bc why not?

I saw @galaxsims did this and i thought it might be fun, so the point of this is to make a simself and answer some q’s so people get to know you better

I’m going to tag anyone who wants to do this, Just go crazy 

   - trash under cut -

1. What is your full name? Constanza

2. What is your nickname? most people call me coti, i had a few friends that called me constance tho

3. Birthday? July 1, 2000

4. What is your favorite book series? i dont read as much as i used to so i dont have one

5. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? aliens yes, ghosts...maybe? just for the spookines of it all tbh

6. Who is your favorite author? i dont read dont come for me

7. What is your favorite radio station? i never listen to the radio, mostly spotify

8. What is your favorite flavor of anything? anything cheese flavored, or like pizza? idk im thinkin chips here

9. What word would you use often to describe something great or wonderful? amazing, cool!

10. What is your current favorite song? literally queens entire discography??? like i saw bohemian rhapsody last week, i liked queen before but now im like on hyperdrive or something

11. What is your favorite word?  chaos

12. What was the last song you listened to? Somebody to love, by (you guessed it) queen

13. What TV show would you recommend for everybody to watch? hmm... i dont know, skam, maybe freaks and geeks

14. What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down? pride (2014) always makes me feel happy when i watch it, i really like it

15. Do you play video games? yes

16. What is your biggest fear? Ending up alone, but not romantically, more of like no friends, or family

17. What is your best quality, in your opinion? i dont know... i just try to be a good person?? like i put myself in others peoples shoes and treat them how i would like to be treated i guess, bc i know how its like being treated like shit and i wouldnt want that for anyone lol

18. What is your worst quality, in your opinion? my socializing skills? or lack thereof 

19. Do you like cats or dogs better? i like them both the same

20. What is your favorite season? i dont like any season sjdjsdk

21. Are you in a relationship? nope

22. What is something you miss from your childhood? just.. happiness?? not only my own but like everyone in my family (yikes) also my innocence 

23. Who is your best friend? haha ha

24. What is your eye color? brown

25. What is your hair color? Dark brown 

26. Who is someone you love? no one honestly, maybe my pets?

27. Who is someone you trust? literally anyone who is nice to me, that’s bad

28. Who is someone you think about often? my friends, classmates

29. Are you currently excited about/for something? nothing currently

30. What is your biggest obsession? The sims, life is strange and detroit become human.....also queen?, weird combinations

31. What was your favorite TV show as a child? Art attack! also the cocodrile hunter??? that was my shit!!

32. Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to, if anyone? I know i just said i trust everyone but like....i dont open up, like ever

33. Are you superstitious? No

34. Do you have any unusual phobias? Elevators?? and cars...are those phobias?

35. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? Behind

36. What is your favorite hobby? Editing, playin sims... u know

37. What was the last book you read? I cant remember fghjkljhg probably something for school

38. What was the last movie you watched? Bohemian rhapsody rip

39. What musical instruments do you play, if any? i wish i could play any musical instrument, but i suck tbh

40. What is your favorite animal? cats and dogs™

41. What are your top 5 7 favorite Tumblr blogs that you follow?

@pollinationqueen​ @cosmic-espie​ @omiscanking @bloomlet @gunthermunch @cowberrys and @mellocakes ♥♥

42. What superpower do you wish you had? telekinesis??? um hell yeah why would anyone want anything else

43. When and where do you feel most at peace? this is weird but when im riding the bus home, listening to music

44. What makes you smile? my simblr, youtube videos...

45. What sports do you play, if any? i wish

46. What is your favorite drink? coca cola beech! 

47. When was the last time you wrote a hand-written letter or note to somebody? I dont even remember, but i had to write something like that around this year at least

48. Are you afraid of heights? yes

49. What is your biggest pet peeve? it used to be hearing people chew, but i think im over it

50. Have you ever been to a concert? no, never

51. Are you vegan/vegetarian? No

52. When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? a vet

53. What fictional world would you like to live in? idk sis

54. What is something you worry about? my future, and my life

55. Are you scared of the dark? sometimes

56. Do you like to sing? yes, only when im alone

57. Have you ever skipped school? yeah, but i tried not to, it felt like i was missing out and that kinda made me feel like shit??

58. What is your favorite place on the planet? i dont think i have one, but more like a bunch of them? and only at specific times if that make sense, like the outside of that theater at nightime when i went to see a play with my friends a while ago

59. Where would you like to live? mmm maybe the usa? or anywhere where i could get to speak english all the time

60. Do you have any pets? a cat and a dog, Mercury and Candy!

61. Are you more of an early bird or a night owl? Night owl, def

62. Do you like sunrises or sunsets better? Sunsets, im never up for sunrises anyways, unless i stayed up all night

63. Do you know how to drive? no but i hope that i do at some point, although im scared of cars

64. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? headphones

65. Have you ever had braces? nope, my teeth are as straight as me

66. What is your favorite genre of music? rock, indie...maybe pop rock?

67. Who is your hero? i dont have one

68. Do you read comic books? not really

69. What makes you the most angry? myself sometimes

70. Do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real book? Real book all the way, when i do read that is

71. What was your favorite subject in school? cinematography class???? idk how it translates properly but that was my fave, although the teacher fucking ruined it for all of us tbh

72. Do you have any siblings? nope

73. What was the last thing you bought? a bus ticket

74. How tall are you? 4′9...yikes

75. Can you cook? not at all

76. What are three things that you love? this blog, my family and my pets

77. What are three things that you hate? hooo boy

78. Do you have more female friends or more male friends? i have 0 friends what does that mean? jk i actually would say its pretty equal 

79. What is your sexual orientation? yes

80. Where do you currently live? Uruguay, montevideo

81. Who was the last person you texted? my dad

82. When was the last time you cried? last week

83. Who is your favorite YouTuber? jenna and julien, and probably every sims youtuber(seriously)

84. Do you like to take selfies? not so much

85. What is your favorite app? tumblr, or youtube

86. What is your relationship with your parent(s) like? its alright

87. What is your favorite foreign accent? portugeese

88. What is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit? mmm all of them

89. What is your favorite number? 7

90. Can you juggle? Nop

91. Are you religious? no

92. Do you find outer space or the deep ocean to be more interesting? The ocean

93. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil? hahah no

94. Are you allergic to anything? i used to be allergic to a bunch of shit when i was a kid but im not allergic to it anymore?? like chocolate, oranges....cats, and dust

95. Can you curl your tongue? Yes

96. Can you wiggle your ears? Yes

97. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something? always hopefully

98. Do you prefer the forest or the beach? Forest

99. What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you? i dont really ask for advice that often so...idk

100. Are you a good liar? No, but i try

101. What is your Hogwarts House? Hufflepuff

102. Do you talk to yourself? i used to talk to myself all the time, but now i barely do it, thats a good thing right?

103. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Introvert

104. Do you keep a journal/diary? no, i used to when i was a kid but it was pure garbage

105. Do you believe in second chances? Depends

106. If you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do? look for an id to see if i cant turn it in, if not....well

107. Do you believe that people are capable of change? Yes, but only in certain things

108. Are you ticklish? i dont even know, probably not

109. Have you ever been on a plane? no

110. Do you have any piercings? yeah, my ears

111. What fictional character do you wish was real? idk

112. Do you have any tattoos? No, but hopefully i will some day!

113. What is the best decision that you’ve made in your life so far? i dont know....

114. Do you believe in karma? yeah

115. Do you wear glasses or contacts? no

116. Do you want children? yeah why not

117. Who is the smartest person you know? honestly i don’t know

118. What is your most embarrassing memory? doing a cindirella theatre play for my school when i was 12, i was cindirella, i dont wanna talk about it njxkcfxf

119. Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? not that i remember, i always end up falling asleep, dosent matter if its like 10 minutes 

120. What color are most of you clothes? green.........i dont even like green

121. Do you like adventures? yeah maybe, depends on what it is

122. Have you ever been on TV? yeah i have actually lmao, it was on a kids tv show 

123. How old are you? 18

124. What is your favorite quote? “We don’t make mistakes, just happy little accidents” 

125. Do you prefer sweet or savory foods? savory!!

[river-runs-on-insanity]

Ally

Five years. One-thousand eight hundred thirty-one and a half rotations around the sun, the Earth has made that many. One-thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days. Two million, 6 hundred twenty-eight thousand minutes. And not even once did I not miss her. The world had kept moving, the way it naturally would. Life went on. People were born, and people died. Kids grew up and became adults. Adults went on into the real world and began jobs, got married, and started families. Nothing ever stopped. But losing her was still the strongest pain I had ever known.

Once the flames of grief had died down to embers, the questions of where she had went started to speculate throughout our community. Theories of how she packed up her life and ran away with an older, mysterious man and is now living in Vegas serving beers to whoever walked into her bar. Some believed that she had cashed out her savings and caught the first flight to Greece or Paris and started a life where no one knew her name or the things she had done. Others though, believed the unthinkable. They speculated that she had taken herself to an old abandoned cabin in the Rocky Mountains or somewhere secluded and distant, where it could take years to find her, and put a bullet through her head.

But none of these were true. I was the only one who knew this.

The last time I saw her was the day before she left. She had come to say goodbye.

I had gone to meet her in the diner off 48th and A, not realizing what was about to come. She didn’t cry as she told me of her plans. She took my hand and asked me to do the heartbreaking task of telling her parents of where she went, or at least some jumbled version of that truth. She was gone, that’s what I had to say.

“Rory, you have to make sure they don’t find me. Tell them anything you need to, just don’t tell them where I went. They can never know the truth.” She had said, reaching across the table to stroke my cheek; I closed my eyes and leaned into her palm. I couldn’t understand why she was asking this of me or why she had to go. Even now I still don’t know.

“Please don’t leave me.” I had whispered at some point. She squeezed my other hand and gave me a small, sad smile.

“I have to go Rory,” she had let go of my hand to caress my cheek. I scan still feel her touch on my skin, like a scar that I carry with me forever. “And I think you know this.”

“Then let me have today. Let me have today to say goodbye. And I promise I will do what you ask of me. Just let me have a chance to say goodbye.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather share this last day with than you.”

Occasionally, the memory of how we met will run through my mind; it does this now, the smell of rain and fallen leaves brings me there. And against the autumn wind, I close my eyes and remember her, the girl with beautiful brown curls and eyes so brown, they were gold.

I had broken my back after falling off a house that summer. My first job had been a carpenter alongside my father, and we had both learned quickly that I was accident prone and a safety hazard. Regardless, they had me in the hospital for a couple of days so that I could adjust to the uncomfortable pain I was about to be in for the next couple of months.

Visiting hours were over, yet I remember her sneaking into my room. Hiding from the night nurse, she had told me. They had wanted to lock her up, and send her away to a place where she would stop hurting herself. She asked me to help her escape, but I couldn’t. I was stuck in my bed. I told her of this, and she laughed, deciding to stay with me instead. We talked a lot that night, getting to know one another. Before she had left my room, I told her I couldn’t sleep.

Before shutting the door behind her, she told me to sing the ABCs backwards; that was a trick her mother had taught her, and it worked like a charm. Sure enough, when I had tried it, I was asleep almost instantly. Until they released me from the hospital, she came and saw me every night. She’d perch herself on the end of my bed and talk to me until I fell asleep. It took some time before I noticed the scars on her arms. I’d ask, but she’d change the subject. I never knew what drove herself to inflict that much harm on her body.

She’d tell me things about herself. She had told me once that she wanted to sail the seas and dive deep into those waters to see what was living in the world below.

“So, a biologist?” I brought up one night while we played cards in my room.

“Well, a marine biologist to be exact. But yes, I want to study life. I want to understand it.”

To this very day I still find it funny that she wanted to study and understand life when she herself was a life no man could ever understood. I think about her now, as I walk these city streets on my way out of town. I had stopped at a florist and bought a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers. Those had always been her favorite. They had always made her feel warm and happy on the inside; her face had always lit up like sunlight when I brought her some.

The city is alive and bustling with energy and noise. She always hated it. She had told me multiple times that it made her feel claustrophobic being around that many people. I don’t mind. I like getting lost in the crowds of thousands. It made me feel small and wonderful at the same time. There is something about being just another face passed by on the street, never to be seen again. I used to create stories for her. I’d tell her what I believed their lives were like.

“You see that person over there?” I had once asked her.

“You mean the one with ratty hair and baggy clothes?”

“That woman over there is a cat lover. She lives in a loft with five cats and she treats them all like they’re her kids.”

She just laughed at me, nudging my shoulder affectionately. I loved being able to make her laugh; it was like a mockingbird singing in the distance, chirping and wonderful. Sometimes, like now, I miss how happy I could make her. It was like winning the Nobel Peace Prize. I don’t think she ever realized that I was in love with her. She was my everything, my world, but to her I was just a friend. A safe place to land after taking a valiant leap into the vast unknown. So, I never told her how I felt, I just kept it to myself until it was so overwhelming and painful that it hurt my heart. And I should’ve told her. I had every chance to on that last day with her. The rays of sunlight beam down on my face, as it did on that final day.

I remember it as clearly as I know my own name. We drove to the coast and spent the day on the beach. She held my hand and we talked. We talked about everything and nothing. We talked about stories and music and movies. She told me about her favorite art pieces. She told me of all the places she wanted to go.

“Florida?” I had laughed. “You want to go to Florida?”

“Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to do a Daytona Beach spring break.” I could hear the challenge in her voice.

“Nope, and I never wanted to do the Cancun one wither.” I told her, shoving my hands deep in my pockets. “It’s just not my speed.”

“Maybe one day, when I come home, we’ll meet each other there.”

“I’m never going to see you again after this, am I?” I asked, after a long pause of silence between us.

She brushed her pretty penny brown curls out of her face, but the wind just pushed them back. I reached out and moved them away, so I could see her eyes; I held them there, my hand on her cheek.

“Don’t talk like that Rory.” She smiled, but I didn’t believe her. “Of course, we’ll see each other again. You’ll see.”

We didn’t speak about her leaving again. We discussed the languages we wished we could speak. She wanted to learn Italian, I was a little more practical and just wanted to pass high school Spanish. We talked about where we were planning on going one day. We spoke of what we hoped our future would hold. But we didn’t talk about tomorrow. We talked about years from now, but never tomorrow. We both couldn’t stand the idea of what the new day would bring.

“Hey Rory?” she asked me, as we walked towards my house.

“Yes?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

She was so small and meek in that moment, that I almost didn’t recognize the girl standing next to me. There was no way I could’ve said no to her.

I held her as she slept that night, and when I woke up in the morning, she was gone. I never saw her again.

I walk towards the bus station. I tried to create new stories and imagine what the lives of those sitting in the rows around me were like, but I couldn’t. All I could think about was her. I could only ever think about her.

She had written to me a couple of times. She told me of her life and how happy she was. She told me of how she made the right choice. She asked me about my life and what I was doing. I told her of college and my quest to get a degree. I told her of my classes and my professors. But that was just mindless talk. Something for her to hold on to.

Then came the worst day of my life. The day when the man came to my doorstep. He was dressed in his military suit and he stood on my porch, telling me how she was a hero. She had given her life so that others might live. She was brave and the best kind of soldier. Her death was very honorable.

Telling her parents hurt. I wanted to lie so badly. I didn’t want to sit in front of them and look them in the eye while I told them I don’t know where she went, but I knew what she had done; no one knew what came after death except those who had died. But that’s why she named me her next of kin. She didn’t want her parents to know, even if she had died. But I had to tell them. I had to tell them that she was unaccounted for. They deserved to know. We all cried together in their living room. The crying never seemed to end. One day, they put a For Sale sign on their yard and left. They left without saying anything.

As for me, I go to see her every once and a while. It had been easier to at first, when I had more time on my hands. But now I didn’t have enough time. But on days like today, I’d make the journey to go and see her. To bring her flowers and talk to her, sitting with her for a while. It brought me some peace and closure in some weird way. I miss her. I always miss her.

I lay the sunflowers at her stone, and I sit in the damp grass. I don’t speak at first. I just take in the moment. The feeling of being near her once again. It’s a beautiful day. The air is cool, and the sun is warm. The leaves are vibrant shades of red and orange. This was her favorite time of year. She loved autumn above all else.

“Hey pretty girl,” I finally say. “I know it’s been too long, but I’m here now.”

I look at her stone, and I read it. I have it memorized by now, but I still read it.

Ally Kay Rodriguez.

April 29, 1987 to December 8, 2005.