phsyco killer


accepting penpals !! 😋💌💐

okay so i have decided to find some new, creative, and hardworking penpals in place of my old ones who i have lost touch with. so if you want me to consider you just message me a little bit about yourself so i know you aren’t some phsyco killer lol, and i will let you know within the hour !!

To Make A Memory

(An unedited Christmas Story)

Christmas. It was just another day, wasn’t it? Just an arbitrary point in time celebrated by millions of people because they were bored, and lonely, and cold. It didn’t have to mean something to him, and it didn’t.

It didn’t mean a thing.

The memories came unbidden after gnawing at the back of his mind all week. A medley of sights, sounds, even smells. It was a jumbled up mess of happy and sad. But at this point, even the good memories has turned sour and painful. Finally giving in to the assault on his mind, Tony Stark sat on the floor in his bedroom and remembered.

Maria Stark wasn’t just his mother. She was a cook, a teacher, a worker, a charity runner, a wife, and so much more. Tony couldn’t help but wonder how much better things would have been, if she hadn’t been all of those things. It wasn’t like he didn’t see how wonderful she was at everything she did, he just wished that she had spent more time with him, and less time on everything else. Perhaps that was just his present self feeling selfish. It was easy to crave more time with someone when their time had run out so long ago. Tony never had enough time with her, and her alone. He found that his memories felt tainted by that solid, fierce presence of his father.

Christmas, 1978. Tony wasn’t old enough to understand why his father wasn’t there for Christmas dinner, he just knew his mother was upset about it. So he was upset about it too. They had more fun at that dinner than they ever did when Howard was there. The next morning, Tony woke up and ran to the living room like a normal kid. Only, he wasn’t a normal kid, he was a Stark.

“Stop that running around the house!” Howard shouted from a chair in the living room. He was seated directly next to the Christmas tree, looking as though he had just returned home. Tony froze mid step, already wary of his father’s mood.


“‘I’m sorry’ means you will never do it again. Do you promise to never run in the house again?”

Tony considered it seriously, before deciding to lie. “Yes.”

Howard was out of his chair in a second, grabbing Tony by the collar of his pajamas and hoisting him back down the hall. Tony let out a yelp of surprise and looked back at the receding Christmas tree in dismay.

Howard nearly threw him into his room and stood in the doorway, ever the dominating presence.

“You will not lie to your father,” he warned, crossing his arms. “No child should show his father such disrespect. I thought I taught you better than this.”

Tony stood, shaking slightly with an irrational fear of being hit. His father had never struck him before, but there was a first time for everything.

"I’m sorr—”

“Liar,” Howard snapped. He shifted slightly closer and Tony lost all control of his body, and flinched. His father’s face shifted from anger to discomfort at the sight.

There was a long silence where Tony simply stared at his father’s knees.

“You will stay in here for the rest of the day,” his father commanded.

Tony began to protest but faltered quickly at the look his father gave him.

“You will learn to respect me, and you will remember that a Stark has Iron in their backbones.”

The memory drew to a close with the sharp click of the door shutting behind Howard Stark.


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