#but I don't know enough to say shit about anything to be completely frank with you

[dogearedheart]

would you consider yourself Dean-coded?

Do you plan on psycho-analyzing me based on my answer, Clarice?

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Rough Road ||

Frank Castle x female Reader.

Tags/warnings: 'annoying acquaintances of circumstance' to lovers, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected sex (wrap in RL!), swears 😯

Author's note: This is for the TFC December fic challenge 'Snowed In', so check the tags for more!

If you enjoy my fics please consider reblogging, it means others get to enjoy them too! Thank you so much for reading! 💕

"I think we should try and find somewhere to pull over." you say to Frank. You had been driving for hours and the snow was coming down harder now.

"Mm, I'm pretty sure there's a motel about 15 miles ahead, we can make it, get a couple of rooms and start again in the morning." He replies, concentrating on the road.

You stare up through the windscreen at the neverending horizonless thick grey-white of the sky and the flurry of heavy flakes building up on the road ahead of you. "I don't think we'll make it that far."

Sure enough after another couple miles the road became impassable, you had hardly seen any other cars ahead of you or coming the other way for most of the drive. It was gonna get dark fairly soon.

"Shit." Frank says simply, turning off the ignition after he stopped the van at the side of the road.

"Thank fuck I've got cell service" you say, "I'm gonna call for a truck."

While you were on the phone Frank checked his paper maps for the nearest habitations, but there was nothing that warranted risking trying to walk through a snowstorm at night.

"Okay, the rescue company is dealing with shitloads of people in similar situations and 'cos we've got a van and some supplies they're saying we're further down the list. Earliest they could get to us is tomorrow morning."

"Alright, well they'll probably have cleared the roads by then. Guess that ain't too bad. Just gotta hunker down for the night."

You kicked at the dash in frustration. "Urgh. I told you we should've left after the storm, now we're stuck here in your stupid van, which stinks by the way."

"Stinks?" He screwed up his face in disbelief. "What of? I keep it clean!"

"Of you!"

"Listen, as much as you're a complete pain in my ass it was too dangerous to wait in the city any longer. Now the Russians associate you with me…"

You threw your head back against the rest and sighed. "Yeah. I know. Just gotta lay low for a while." you parroted.

"This ain't exactly my idea of heaven either sweetheart."

You hated when he called you that. Even though it was just an automatic thing for him and it didn't mean anything it really annoyed you. He reached into the back bringing out a pack of cards from the seemingly random selection of shit he had squirreled away there. "Imagine you don't wanna talk about what happened, so it's this or I-Spy."

You groaned and nodded as you whiled away an hour or so playing blackjack until your hungry stomach noises got too loud to ignore.

"Alright, chicken or beef sub?" he asked, diving into the backpack.

You chose the chicken.

"Damn, this is really good. You pick them up before we left? Where from?"

"Made em." He replied, taking a bite of his own.

"Huh." You mused, digging in again.

"Surprised I can make a sandwich?" He scoffs.

You shrug. "Surprised you can make a good sandwich. Guess being ex-marine you gotta have some talents."

"You got no idea." He throws you a wink as he takes a sip of coffee from the thermos and you roll your eyes.

After another hour of whooping his ass at blackjack and a lightning quick excursion into the nearby trees and back to relieve yourself, your yawns and heavy eyelids make it clear that you're gonna have to go to sleep at some point soon.

"Does one of us, uh, need to keep watch or something?" You ask him, watching as he crawls into the back of the van and starts digging out a mat, a singular sleeping bag and blanket.

"Nah. Even if they did send someone to follow us ain't nobody getting through this, we're safe enough." He rolled out the bag and caught your awkward look.

You wrapped your arms around you, it was getting cold now the residual heat from the van had disappated. "So… just the one lot of bedding then?"

He nods. "Yeah, usually just me in here y'know, with all my stank."

You rolled your eyes again. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

He has to resist the urge to let you panic about sleeping beside him for a while longer, he's not that cruel. "It's okay, you can have it. I'll be alright up front." He sees your visible relief as you process what he's said, nodding and rummaging in your pack for the toothbrush and toiletries you'd thankfully picked up at your last gas stop, there having been no time to grab anything but the absolute ultimate essentials before you left.

The thick layer of snow that had built up around and on top of the van probably provided quite a bit of insulation, but that didn't exactly stop you from being fucking freezing. You tried to snuggle up deeper into the sleeping bag, all your clothes and a beanie on and the blanket on the top, but you were still cold. You tilted your head up to glance at Frank in the passenger seat, still awake with his jacket on and arms wrapped around himself tight, the occasional puff of his breath misting the air.

"You awake?" You ask, already knowing he was.

"Yeah. You alright?"

"Cold."

"Yeah."

The silence between you seemed to stretch on forever. You pull the blanket tighter around you.

Fuck it. "Uh, if you want, you could come back here, share the blanket? And y'know, body heat will help I guess."

"Thought you couldn't stand my stink?" He throws back at you.

"Well, the cold is kinda trumping that, but it's fine if you don't wanna… just thought it is your stuff after all, don't wanna put you out of your own van."

"Nah, s'good idea." he agrees, climbing into the back with you. You shiver at the initial chill as he lifts the edge of the blanket to lie next to you, your back to his. His jacket is cold against you but after a while you began to warm up, stopping your shivering and finding yourself drifting easily to sleep.

When you wake up it's still dark but you're warm, hot even. As you gradually gain a bit more consciousness you realise that the reason is because Frank has you in a bear hug. He must have turned around in his sleep. His arm is draped over you, big hand splayed over your stomach pulling you impossibly close to him. The only skin contact is his nose at the back of your neck, the warm exhales tickling the light hair there.

It's… pleasant, maybe even something more. He actually smells good. You smile to yourself thinking about the juxtaposition of this killing machine, this angry guard dog let off the chain being a big soft snuggly puppy of a man behind closed doors.

You shift slightly in his hold and then freeze.

Okay, maybe not so soft…

Despite the layers of clothing and a sleeping bag between you, it's unmistakable that it's his cock that's hard and pressing against your ass. You try to rationalise. It's just a normal bodily response after all, but do you dare move? What if he wakes up and it gets awkward, you've got a lot of driving still to do if this snow ever clears…

Any control is taken away from you as Frank stretches momentarily and then wraps you even tighter in his arms, his nose nuzzling into your skin and hips slowly grinding against you with a quiet contented moan. He suddenly stops, pulls away as he wakes and realises where he is, where you are, and what he's doing.

"Shit, fuck…" he turns away from you as he sits up scrubbing his hand over his face. "I'm sorry, I uh… it's uh, been a while since… y'know?"

The blanket rustles softly as you shrug.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" He cuts himself off as his eyes adjust to the darkness, his ears registering the sound of the sleeping bag zip being opened and his gaze finding the smallest glimmer of soft light reflected in your own.

"It's okay. S'been a while for me too," you admit. This might be the stupidest decision you've ever made when it comes to sex, or even when it comes to roadtrips, but you can't seem to override it. Not when he looks at you like that, smells like that, makes you feel like that. He saved your life but you don't think that's all it is.

You slough off your defensive dislike and begin to embrace something that at least feels real.

His face is a picture in the dim snow-reflected light within the van as you reach for him, pulling his warmth and his lips towards you. He's taken aback, but his hand cups your jaw and you find yourself surprised by the tenderness with which his mouth meets your own. You don't waste a second, catching his wrist and guiding him down to palm over your chest, quickly leading his hand under the waistband of your pants so he can feel just how much he's affected you in this short space of time. It's like you're trying not to have the time to think about it. You both carry ghosts from your past that you've never openly shared, but you know, simply from the slight hesitation in his touch even as you urge him on.

The tender kisses soon heat up. "Call me sweetheart again." You breathe against his mouth, and he groans deep as his fingers meet with the wetness at your core. Your own hands explore underneath his jacket, fingers feeling the hard muscle of his chest under his shirt. You reach down to cup his cock through his jeans and then tug at them, moaning as he hurries to unbutton your pants so he can swipe his fingers through your slick folds. His mouth is on your skin, hungry to taste more of you as you scrabble to undo his pants too, urging them and his underwear down just enough to free his gloriously erect cock. He helps you wriggle halfway out of your pants too and now you're jacking each other off like a couple of teenagers, his fingers slippery and desperate over your throbbing clit, and yours covered with sticky precum as you wrap your hand around and stroke him.

"Oh shit…" you whine, as he skillfully brings you closer to the edge, your hips moving against his hand as he watches you. You forget the cold, gasping as he slips a finger inside you, your grip tightening around his cock making him grunt in such a delicious way that you can't help the words spilling from your lips.

"Frank, fuck me, please!" You're begging, you've never begged for anything other than to stay alive, but you need this, you want to feel him inside you, there's nothing else that will satisfy the ache.

He pauses, staring at you like you've just proposed or something. It takes him a hot minute to register what you're saying, but once those words sear into his brain he moves fast, lips sucking and kissing at the skin of your neck like a brand as he yanks your pants all the way down and off, his mouth following. He pushes up your shirt when he gets to the hem, his tongue trailing right up the centerline of your body to your bra where he mouths over the curve of your breasts before pulling down a cup. You arch your back as he takes your peaked nipple between his lips before he continues downward.

You claw at his shoulders as his nose bumps at the front of your underwear, just giving your clit the barest pressure, teasing you instead of giving you what you need, but you soon change your mind as he hooks his fingers under the elastic pulling them off you so he can bury his face in your pussy. He presses your thighs apart, holding you down as your hips try to rise up to meet the mind melting sensation of his tongue on you, in you. You moan, curse, and praise him as he quickly stokes your need and desire into a sharp dense point where you can do nothing else but implode in on yourself, screaming his name as he makes you feel.

He rises from between your thighs, licking his glistening lips with a small smile. It looks good on him.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

"Getting warmer, could be better." You throw back as you catch your breath and return the smile, yanking him back over you and using your feet to help him push his pants all the way off. When you take him in your hand again his gaze flits between your eyes and your mouth, which he claims in a hot kiss as you guide him to you, reveling in the feeling of the head of his thick cock spearing inside your heat.

"God damn." is all he can say, and you can only agree as he repeats it like a mantra as the slow slide of his cock filling and stretching your cunt has your eyes almost rolling back into your head with a long and loud moan.

You wrap your legs around his waist as he rolls his hips into you, the mental and physical battle he's fighting between going slowly, gently, and pounding you fucking senseless is palpable. He's drawing out sounds that you would never even make when you're alone. It might just be because you haven't had any form of touch from anyone for a long time, but you're more certain that it's all him that's making you flustered, hitting all your spots and stripping you down to a bare wire of being with nothing but his soft dark eyes.

That growling, barking, flesh-ripping fighting dog is still there underneath, you can feel how he holds it inside himself, yanking at the chain and always ready to be released when there's a need. The fact that he's driven you out of the city is proof that he actually cares what the fuck happens to you, and that sort of blows your mind. You could have easily gone alone, you were ready to jump on a Greyhound and make your own way but he wouldn't have it. He made you his responsibility. Yeah he was a killer but he was also a protector. Your protector.

He wasn't much of a talker but with his dick buried inside you he's soon gritting out reams of praise that have you clenching around him and mewling as his hand squeezes over the firm curve of your ass.

"Feel so good girl, s'fucking tight…"

You inhale sharply as he reaches between your hot skin to find your clit and ensure that you feel what he's feeling. Your fingernails graze over his scalp and the short hair at the nape of his neck as you pull him even closer, your second orgasm building up fast as he drives into you over and over.

"Ohh, god-"

"That's it sweet thing," he murmurs against your ear as the indescribable feeling of his cock dragging inside has you both on the very edge. "C'mon angel, such a good girl f'me."

You keen at the praise, something he'd unlocked from your subconscious with the simplest key, something even you didn't know you would react to. "Fuck… you're gonna make me-"

Frank feels you start to shake around him, moving his fingers even faster over that swollen little bundle of nerves. It's too much.

"Shit. You feel too fuckin' good, I gotta-" He moves to pull out suddenly and you claw at his ass stopping him before he does, you'll be damned if you don't feel him come inside you.

You whine as he stills. "Fuck! Don't stop, don't fucking stop…"

He looks for your assurance. "You sure? You want this?" his voice is quieter now, wavering. If you say yes he doesn't know that he'll last.

You nod frantically, tilting your hips up, wrapping your arms around his neck, the movement making him groan as you feel like utter heaven around him. He never thought you could be so soft, so open, needy.

The van rocks gently on its suspension as he resumes, every powerful thrust as he's fucking you punching such beautiful sounds from your throat. He can feel every gripping twitch of your perfect cunt as you begin falling apart underneath him, so tight, hot, and wet and quietly begging him to fill you. Your nails dig into the muscle of his huge shoulders and your mouth falls open, thighs tightening their hold around his waist as your moans crest. Don't stop, you told him, and he briefly wonders how he thought he ever could when you feel like this.

"Good girl, fuck- that's my good girl…" it's whispered and desperate, he's barely holding on by a hair.

The possessiveness in his words makes your eyes scrunch up tight and your body open. His cock is hitting you hard right where you need it, the focused touch of his fingers radiating out and burning you up.

"F-frank I-"

You unravel, crying out as you clench around him again and again as torrents of pleasure rip through your entire body. Your eyes fly open, locked on his, determined to witness how he might follow you into bliss. Your hips buck up chasing his own, his harsh warm breath washing over your skin with a deep, sensual moan as he finally lets go, pulsing inside you, not stopping the slowing, stuttering motion of his thrusts until he's given you absolutely everything he's got.

Laying there still entwined, a deep satisfying rumble from Frank's chest breaks the contrasting near-silence as he carefully rolls you on top of him and strokes his fingers lightly over your cheek and along your jaw, sliding them into your hair as his lips brush yours in a soft kiss.

"Frank..." you hum, your forehead resting on his. You can't stop your small nervous giggle as you're still unsure about what this is.

"Yeah." is all he says in return, his hands gliding down over your bare back and your hips, the sleeping bag and blankets forgotten now that inside the van had become a damn sight warmer. The windows with the covering of snow on the outside almost glow through the misting from your body heat on the inside of the glass. It's like you're trapped in a snowglobe. The image soon shatters as your mind clears from the dreamy fog of what you've just done.

"Shit. I-I'm sorry, I know that you-" you start to explain all the reasons that you know this is just a one-time thing, more for yourself than him, but he stops you before you can reel off the excuses.

"Hey," he says, gently catching your chin in his hand and running his fingers lightly over your skin. "We don't need to do all that shit, y'know?"

You can't help looking anywhere but in his eyes.

"Hey, c'mon, it's okay." He repeats.

You wish he wasn't like this, wish he would be colder with you, go back to the sniping, reluctant, thrown-together partnership, or whatever it was you had before. It takes effort but when you manage to meet the warmth of his gaze it feels like something you could get used to looking at.

"Look, it is what it is, yeah? I'm gonna keep you safe, no matter what."

You nod and allow him to pull you close to his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath and the thump of his heart through his ribcage.

"It is what it is," you murmur, your eyes growing heavy as you melt into sleep.

Frank tags:

@divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @phoebe-danvers @munsonownsmyass

[writingpracticetime]

Did you have any thoughts, story-wise, on what Sandy herself thinks of all this and what her circumstances are? There are of course the inferences that can be made from that letter she got sent (and more specifically that it was turned over unopened) but is/was she in the public eye? Is she kept under close observation in case Constructor/Architect tries to approach her directly, and so on?

Oh I absolutely do have story thoughts about Sandy's opinions on everything. But the trouble with Sandy is--

————————————

Excerpts from recordings of meetings between the Architect and various associates.

————————————

CYBERSCOUT

--and, sorry, remind me why we care?

CONSTRUCTOR

We need to try to anticipate the general public objections to this. We won't be able to avoid them, not when we're going to be breaking so many laws. But we can at least anticipate them and get our own narrative out in advance. 

HOBBES

I don't think you get the question. We're villains. Why are we tiptoeing around "public objections?"

CONSTRUCTOR

Because, this is ultimately for the public. We need to try and get out the word about how people are asking for our help, so people know we're responding to their needs. Besides, we can’t accomplish anything for the public without the public. Like Sandy said.

CYBERSCOUT

Who?

CONSTRUCTOR

My--nevermind. Anyway, as I said, let me try to figure things out with Lethe for a minute.

CYBERSCOUT

Alright, alright. I needed to head out anyway, just call me when you have an idea of what shit you want me to spread online.

(Shuffling, people leaving and closing the door behind them.) 

CONSTRUCTOR

So you should have a better idea of what people are going to say to all of this. (Pause) Lethe?

LETHE

Sandy...? Cassandra White?

CONSTRUCTOR

You know her?! (Pause) Wait, then--what does she think about me now? Has she--

LETHE

Oh, u-uh no, sorry. I haven't--I never met her, never stood close enough to read her mind certainly. I-I wouldn't know what she thinks about you.

CONSTRUCTOR

...Oh.

LETHE

I just... heard a lot about her.

CONSTRUCTOR

...Funny. Not many people have.

LETHE

Yeaaaaah, um.

——————————

Blog post by Edward Katzenberger, journalist. Later removed and found on wayback.archive.org.

——————————

WHO IS CASSANDRA WHITE?

So, my long term followers all know about my hilariously derailed profile of Constructor assigned shortly before the stadium incident. I’ve kept you all abreast of the many, many delays related to high security super prisons and then my subject running off to start a supervillain career. Because of course, the second I get assigned this extremely exciting personality piece, Constructor becomes completely unreachable.

Alright, well, you might not believe me, but Constructor's manager/agent turned out to be even harder to reach.

At the time, I decided to take the "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" approach and paint a portrait of Constructor based on the testimonies of coworkers, friends and family. I then found out that I could get testimonies from construction workers and urban planners about what the hero was like to work with (largely positive, if saddened by the recent turn of events) but nothing on what this incredibly beloved figure was like as a friend or family member.

The one thing I kept hearing from everyone was "Cassandra White would know more. The two of them seemed really close."

Now there was a problem: I couldn't find out who the fuck Cassandra White was.

———————————

BONFIRE

You got a--Oh, sorry. Working on something right now?

CONSTRUCTOR

Not work. I'm just-- (sounds of paper, flipping and folding it as Bonfire gets close) Just writing something.

BONFIRE

Writing...?

CONSTRUCTOR

Just scrawling out some thoughts, I guess.

LETHE

Mm. (Quiet) What are you both looking at me for?!

CONSTRUCTOR

What was that about?

LETHE

What was what about??

BONFIRE

Something about the writing...?

LETHE

Nothing! Nothing about the writing. I was just, I was making a noise. Thinking about something else, hahaha.

BONFIRE

.....What is it?

CONSTRUCTOR

Nothing! ... Lethe.

LETHE

I'm sorry! Don't be mad at me!

CONSTRUCTOR

I'm not mad! That was just--that was private.

BONFIRE

What was private?

LETHE AND CONSTRUCTOR

Nothing!

CONSTRUCTOR

(After a pause) ...I was just writing to Sandy again.

BONFIRE

(Irritated, sizzling noise) Ah, right. Sandy.

CONSTRUCTOR

See! This is why I didn't want to tell you.

BONFIRE

I don't see why you couldn't--

LETHE

Leaving! I'm leaving!

————————

It turns out Cassandra White was Constructor’s agent. I try to look her up online and? Nothing. No facebook profile, no personal website, not even a LinkedIn. 

That has to be odd for someone who works in PR, right?

I do a little searching to find the agents of other superheroes. I contacted one, and got an interview. I've lost the thread of trying to piece together Constructor's life but I'm curious dammit. I mention the issue I've had with finding her anywhere. He nods his head while I explain the wild goose chase I've been on.

"Well, White is a whole other ballgame," he says. "She took her privacy seriously, and I'm also pretty sure she scrubbed a lot of her history. She was meticulous about records--knowing names in media, tech, and various public archives who could help you scrub a dumb tweet before it snowballed into a PR crisis for your client."

"You can get rid of internet records?"

"Well, not easily. And not after people realize they're important, that's for sure," he said. "I once told her things on the internet are forever. She said, 'No. If people pay attention, then they're forever. But if no one cares in the first place, then it never existed at all.'"

"So there was a process she used to make sure people's images stayed clean," I said, "And she used the same process to make herself a ghost?"

"I imagine so. I mean, she's retired from being an agent and has her fingers in all sorts of other pies these days. Businesses, investments, politics. Plus, I imagine becoming a billionaire or whatever has made her priorities shift."

Billionaire. I think I almost choked on my coffee. "You can become a billionaire from being a PR agent?"

"You can't," he said. "But White did."

—————————

DOC

--nd now that we got that patched up, this is the part where you tell my why the fuck the police caught you anyway.

CONSTRUCTOR

Uhh... Dunno. Not sure how they found me.

DOC

Where did they track you down?

CONSTRUCTOR

Um... I'm not feeling up for this conversation right now.

HOBBES

It was that new square in York XIV that looks like a Whole Foods staged a violent invasion.

DOC

....okay, is there a reason you decided to be wandering alone around in an area with shit ton of white moms ready to call the police on your ass?

CONSTRUCTOR

....Yeah, I was alone because I thought everyone here would tell me not to go. (Sigh) Look, I'm not gonna–

CYBERSCOUT

(poking head in) The Whole Foods place? Oy, isn't that where that old chick you're stalking has a house?

CONSTRUCTOR 

I'm not--I was delivering a letter.

HOBBES

 ....wait a minute, I remember this. "Sandy" right? Your mom? The one who turned you into the FBI?

CONSTRUCTOR

She's not my mom. (Pause) And no, she turned in my letter--which she would have to, if she was being monitored. I thought if I--

CYBERSCOUT

Wasn't she also a racist? Wasn't that a whole fight you had with Bonfire?

HOBBES

(Judgmental) You act all woke and then you go and try to be friends a racist who lives in the Whole Foods district.

CONSTRUCTOR

She's not a--That's not what the fight--this is why I went alone!

———————

This conversation afforded me with a lot of more information which I am saving for a piece on the lives of superhero PR agents, which I am now utterly fascinated by. Regarding Cassandra White, the other significant info it afforded me was that Cassandra White does in fact have a twitter account that I missed in my earlier search.

I looked into it. It's the most inoffensive twitter account I've ever seen. It feels like it was generated on a factory belt. There is a headshot of an older white woman--Cassandra White herself, it seems--as the profile pic. She tweets very rarely herself, and instead seems to mostly retweet news updates and positive platitudes or quotes from historical figures. The tweets she does make are all of an extremely inoffensive liberal variety, with the spiciest being one gentle snipe at the Republican party.

There is one other hint of her personality on this twitter. It’s an unexpected photo from inside her home, one with a quick caption that says she regularly uses a whiteboard to write out her resolutions and thoughts, and that she finds the process to clarify her goals and values. 

It reads:

IT WILL BE DONE QUIETLY.  IT WILL BE DONE CIVILLY.  IT WILL BE DONE RIGHT–OR IT WON’T BE DONE AT ALL. 

—————————

CONSTRUCTOR

Alright, alright. We can talk more about this tomorrow but for now tell them no more death matches and any blood feuds need to be put on hold when they enter this fortress.

HOBBES

(Grunts) Pussy move.

CONSTRUCTOR

I don't care if it's a pussy move.

CYBERSCOUT

Ahem--what if I made the point that you're being culturally insensitive by imposing your mainstream standards of civility on a subculture of people, villains, who have their own values in how they deal with conflict, and--

CONSTRUCTOR

I know you bet on the fights and you're not changing my mind.

CYBERSCOUT

No fun. (sigh) Lethe, I TOLD you not to snitch on me!

LETHE

I didn't!

CONSTRUCTOR

Anyway, we can figure out a more long term solution for dealing with serious vendettas but for now--I'm tired. I have something else I need to work on. Tell them not to kill each other.

HOBBES

What are you writing that's more important than a potential deathmatch, anyway?

CONSTRUCTOR

Nothing. Just-- (Shuffling of papers) leave me to it for tonight. I don't want to set a precedent where I rush over every time someone wants to kill someone else, because given the personalities here that would mean never having any time.

CYBERSCOUT

Fiiiiiiiine.

(Grumbling and footsteps as people shuffle out, followed by writing noises.)

LETHE

Hey.

CONSTRUCTOR

What? (Pause) You know what I'm doing.

LETHE

The last time you tried to deliver something….

CONSTRUCTOR

I'll send someone else to deliver it.

(More scribbling. Deep breath.)

LETHE

I lied. I read her mind. She doesn't care about you.

(Writing stops. After a slight pause, there is the sound of paper crinkling and Lethe gasps and steps back.)

LETHE

Don’t be mad at me!

CONSTRUCTOR 

(Deep, strained breath) I’m not mad. You're just wrong.

LETHE

I could literally read her mind!

CONSTRUCTOR

Okay, you're not wrong.  You're lying.

LETHE

What? I'm not!

CONSTRUCTOR

(Fuming) You think I'm an idiot just because I haven't been calling you out on it? Everyone here knows you lie about what your powers show you whenever it suits your purposes.

LETHE

(Wobbly) I--I don't have a reason to lie about this!

CONSTRUCTOR

You don't have a reason that I know. But you are such a fucking liar. No one in the fortress trusts a thing you say, and you know it. 

LETHE

Th-that's not--That's not relevant! Oh my god, you're literally never going to even consider this, a-are you? That she was just using you for the cut of your paycheck, making her fortune...

CONSTRUCTOR

I'm not going to re-evaluate a decade long perception of a loved one based on the words of a known liar, Lethe. Get out.

LETHE

But--

(Rumbling, cracking of the floor.)

CONSTRUCTOR

I said get out!

———————————

The twitter account confirms she exists and nothing else. I couldn't tell you what the woman thinks about anything. On a website people use to blast their opinions to the world at all hours, this one seems specifically built to deny the existence of any individual opinions or personality. 

I scrolled all the way back to the time period during which Constructor would have had the big public meltdown at the stadium. I used the wayback machine to see if there were any deleted tweets, just in case she said anything in a fit of frustration or grief and deleted it.

But during the time where she would have been watching Constructor's breakdown, a time when everyone in the world had something to say about what Constructor had done--nothing.

Cassandra White, Constructor's closest person, had nothing to say about them at all.

[theangelsheardyou]

DILF SKK IM SORRY

Also headcanons bc I'm so normal about them

Dazai

Janky old broke hobo spiderman energy

When I say broke I mean BROKE

Will swindle his way into getting money

Absolute SLUT will sleep with someone just to have a place to stay the night

Not exactly homeless, he's more like a roach. Just kinda scatters anywhere and stays somewhere he finds comfortable even if he's not welcome (cough cough chuuyas apartment)

Giving frank Gallagher energy but if he actually tried to be a good dad (source: shameless)

Oh did I mention he's a dad

YESSSIRR HES GOT A DAUGHTER BC GIRL DAD DAZAI CANON

His daughter is actually kinda embarrassed of him

She's def the one who worries about him the most

Lives with her mom, who is one of dazais old one night stands (IT SHOULDVE BEEN ME FR)

Her mom couldn't give two shits about this man even if she tried

His daughter doesn't want to be anything like him

She inherited his intelligence tho, just not his irresponsibility

Dazai doesn't live with them, he and the mother aren't dating but they're not friends either, she just kinda accepted that he's this cockroach in her life and her daughter is a nice piece of leftover trash he can't get enough of

Don't get me wrong, dazai LOVES his little girl

Absolutely adores her

She's usually just annoyed by him

He finds it cute when she yells at him cause it reminds him of when she would throw tantrums as a toddler

But she does genuinely love her dad more than anything

It's just hard for her to show it

She's not particularly close with her mom either since she's kind of a cruel and bitter woman

Still not over how dazai treated her

He's not perfect, but he tries

Chuuya

This man is like the complete opposite of dazai

He's a single father who wouldn't leave his daughter alone for a second

Unlike dazai chuuya fell genuinely in love with a woman but she died during childbirth

At first he was angry that his wife was taken away but one look at this little girl in his arms and all the pain and anger washed away

He promised her he would give her the world no matter what

He's absolutely the best father you could ever ask for

His daughters spoiled spoiled SPOILED

Nothing but the best for his little girl🥺

And unlike dazai bro is LOADED so yeah she pretty much gets anything she wants with a snap of her fingers

But she's not a brat tho (at least, not when she's older)

She takes after chuuya in her need to be useful and independent

She's actually way more calm than he is, but she does have a little of his demeanor

Anyway enough abt her since I'm very early into the development of this au and Idk much about how I want the kids to be yet

Chuuya does bulk up as years go by cause ain't no way this child having a TWINK for a father🙄

He does also get a teensy bit taller bc I wanna throw this dog a bone, man

"I'm still growing" You know what?? Yeah you are buddy keep believing in urself😊

Still in the mafia, but since having a kid he's withdrawn a lot more from this life

He's not the type to try to get a higher position for his kid since he knows that the more involved he is with the Port Mafia, the more danger he and his family is in

Only a few in the Port Mafia actually know he's got a kid

For a while they tried to keep it a secret from mori not knowing what he'd do

Also do not leave his young daughter alone with this man

WEVE SEEN YOSANOS BACKSTORY GOODBYE

Chuuya is a lot less violent than he was in his 20s

Having a kid really softened him up

Now when he's on a mission, he doesn't kill anyone unless he was ordered to

He can see the fear in his enemy's eyes and all he can think of are their kids and what would happen to them

So unless he absolutely has to, he won't kill anyone

His job is also a secret from his daughter

He doesn't want her involved in any way whatsoever

He wants her to find her own path, to be her own person, and most of all, to be safe and happy

Wasn't gonna do this part but

SOUKOKU

Dazai and chuuya do get back together in this au

After the unofficial breakup they did have a couple nights together but after a while they drifted apart, chuuya finding a wife and family, and dazai slowly spiraling deeper and deeper into his own mess

Their lives are intertwined again upon an incident where their kids are in danger

That's when they pull a spy x family and secretly defeat the enemy without their daughters knowing about it

It was supposed to be a one time thing, after this they're back to their normal lives

But unfortunately their girls became quite good friends, so they had to keep seeing each other

They went from hanging out with their kids in a daddy-daughter tea party to absolutely destroying each other in the bedroom

Ok that's all I genuinely wanna develop this au so ask me anything! I'd love to answer ur questions!!!

[butwhatifidothis]

Why don't you like Dorothea?

got long and character hate, under the cut it goes

She's just... insufferably sanctimonious.

The way she treats a lot of the characters give off a vibe that she thinks she's better than them because She Knows What It's Like Being In The Slums - when realistically speaking, she's had it so much better than the overwhelming majority of commoners for the majority of her life. She's been with the Mittelfrank Opera House since she was ten, and a renown diva since 13 - it's to the point where she has noble connections as a no-house-having commoner. That is such a huge sign of privilege that never really gets addressed as privilege instead of another way to make her pitiable because "poor Dorothea, no one thinks she's actually smart enough to get in Garreg Mach."

It's like... compare that to Leonie, who has actual debt on her name because of her want to get in Garreg Mach. Dorothea literally never has to worry about that, all she has are some schmucks gossiping about her - it's sad, but it's like. Not fuckin' debt. And her passing the exams is supposed to compensate for her noble connections, but that just shows that she's intelligent, not that she doesn't have a huge advantage in life through her status as a diva even with all the struggles that came with it. But we never get to really face how different her life is compared to the average commoner, because she can't support with any other than Byleth (because they're the player character) and Yuri (who is very decidedly not an average commoner). Literally everyone else she can support with are one of noble blood, royal blood, or the same diva status she has; doesn't really make it look like she cares oh so much for the people when evidently she can't stand to actually talk to them.

And just. Ferdinand getting flustered by her washing naked in a public fountain when they were children - a one-time event that ultimately did nothing but hurt Dorothea's feelings - is enough to make her deeply hate him for over a decade, but Edelgard trying to murder her after revealing that she's lied to everyone for a year barely puts a dent in her feelings for her. It puts no dent in her feelings, if it's CF. It makes Dorothea look so brazenly hypocritical - she'll go on and on about how much she just hates nobles and how much they hurt those under them and how they abuse the power they have, but as soon as a noble she likes does horrendous shit she'll just overlook it entirely (or otherwise hold no hatred for them, like she did with Ferdinand and like she says she does for all the other nobles).

She's completely ready and willing to blame the Church and nobles for all the wrong in the world, but blaming Edelgard for literally anything? Including the violent conquest thing? That's just too much to ask for, apparently - she'll opt for romanticizing the exile/death of Claude and the destruction of the Alliance as an independent nation as a beautiful romance between Edelgard and Byleth instead. Like... it's not Dorothea, former starving resident of Adrestia's lowest class, that brings up the starvation those people are facing on CF - that thing that sounds like something she'd rush to call out were any other noble/the Church the ones that did it. Ashe has to do that, because apparently she can't be fucked to call out Edelgard for anything.

There also how, on CF, she'll go on about how much suffering the war is causing as if the side that she willingly chose to fight for isn't the one, sole side that's causing the suffering in question. On other routes, it's fine; on CF, it makes her incredibly tone-deaf and adds on to her hypocrisy. It makes her look two-faced, being frank.

And, like. If this were intentional? If I thought for a second that the writers meant to make Dorothea seem like someone who, after so long in the spotlight, lost touch with her roots and became the very sort of person she despised? I'd think she be just fine! Because that's honestly how she comes across to me - even with all the hardships being a diva genuinely did bring her, that doesn't mean she wasn't given a head-start compared to her fellow common-born peers. As much as she throws her slum-slicker past in the face of people who criticize her, she is not a slum-slicker anymore and has not been in the lower position of one for most of her life by the war phase.

But I don't think it was meant to be taken like that. I think she's really meant to be the down-to-earth, poor victim who has no power to her name, and who is meant to be seen as right in her words... despite almost never living up to those words herself, and despite how wrong or otherwise unsupported her words often are. She's rarely contradicted in her attitude towards others, and the one time she's called out for her actions - with Sylvain - she just goes No U and the conversation basically ends. Her writing is just... all over the place, for me.

Plus as an ending aside, ngl. With how many times I've seen her fans hard-down insist that literally any and everyone who dislikes her must hate women, can't say it exactly endeared me to her character. Kinda like Yuri, the fandom experience I've had with her was unfortunate, in a word

[blank-citron]

I am back, yet again, with more thoughts. I'm nearing the end of house of hades (3 hours left!!) So here's my opinions about all the relationships!

OKAY SO:

Annabeth and Percy is fine, they're great, I don't mind them at all. Nothing weird, they got five books before they got together and they were genuinely friends first!! Good job have a metal: 🏅

Piper and Jason is??? Eugh. FIRST UP pipers original attraction to Jason is because of FAKE memories put inside of her head. And Jason?? Complete amnesia, doesn't remember shit, and they still kinda?? Stay together? Even though they're technically complete strangers forced into a relationship by a god. AND DON'T GET ME STARTED on the amount of time they spend focused on each other when Pipers dad is kidnapped and going insane and she thinks shes gonna be forced to betray them all. Like yeah, alright, but your boyfriend you know nothing about? Yeah spend an entire page talking about how attractive he is. OH AND THE CHARM SPEAK, DON'T FORGET THE CHARM SPEAK

Hazel and Frank is on thin fucking ice. The jealousy on Franks side is kinda uncomfortable but like, I get it. Fair enough. They've known each other for a while, they were friends before they were dating, and I can't say much about it?? Because it's before the book but at least it's not super uncomfortable or anything. Now my problem is kinda with their ages, Hazel is like 12 (13?) And Frank is uhh (checks wiki) **17???** I thought he was like 16 at most but alright, sure sure sure. You'd think? A 17 year old would know better than to date a 12 year old, like my guy, that's a whole ass child.

Leo and Calypso,,, Mmm.. most of my problems with Calypso comes with the fact that lore wise, it doesn't really make sense for her to still be on the island, her instant dismissal of Leo cause he's not super ripped and tall is also kinda uncomfortable but oh well. NOW LEO??? CONSIDERING that his main personal conflict comes from being the 7th wheel and the fact that his best friends kinda?Y'know, toss him aside after they get together??? The odd one out?? I feel, so uncomfortable with the fact that they decide to solve that problem by just giving him a girlfriend? Instead of y'know, making him more comfortable with himself and his friendships. Like sticking a bandaid of someone just liking him back for the first time ever fixes his major abandonment issues. Especially with?? The apparent "instant attraction"? Like c'mon.

[theglidingbat]

For the first time this isn't me talking good about a comic and what I LIKE.

You know as I usually do.

This one is me being a hater for once like the majority of comic book twt.

So. Let's begin with All star Batman and why it sucks ass

These are just my opinions btw. It's okay if you like it I just think it's shit.

FIRST OFF!!

Completely got the deaths of the graysons wrong. Was this an attempt to parallel the trauma Bruce faced because if so it's really fucking shit. Like extremely shit. How is the mafia going to make this look like an accident? Which was...I dunno .....a very key point in Dick's backstory? Why he became robin and sought out to prove Tony zucco was behind the murder?

Also I just don't see a point in changing the way they died. If it was for making a parallel then again, PRETTY shit attempt. Both watched their parents die and fall to their deaths and that's enough you don't need to bring this in. Again this is me trying to find a reason as to WHY he would do this. If anyone knows feel free to correct me.

EXCUSE ME??? I MEAN DO I EVEN HAVE TO SAY ANYTHING ON WHY THIS IS MISCHARACTERIZATION AND JUST REALLY FUCKING SUCKY. First of all this is a child who just saw his parents die. Bruce wouldn't just grab him by the scruff and go "okay now fight crime" that isn't even what REMOTELY happens. Why does this even exist. Why am I reading it. This is just THE FIRST ISSUE. AND IT'S SO BAD.

but okay.. I'll give it a chance.

Nevermind this comic gets no chances what the FUCK???? NO SERIOUSLY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

He KIDNAPPED DICK DRUGGED HIM SHOVED HIM IN HIS CAR-

And we're supposed to root for batman? Actually this isn't batman this is a fucking disgusting clone it's not real there's no way this is real- it's painful to read actually.

He says this after smacking him. THIS SHOULD'VE BEEN HIS FIRST THOUGHT. I WILL-

Did they really just try to make Bruce the most asshole person on earth because that is NOT BATMAN.

Ugly ass bitch-

Ahem.

So let's continue with this fake ass Batman

Does the writer like...hate batman? And this is such an out of character thing for clark to say, what do you MEAN!?? Clark is the one who got Bruce's back who believes and understands his reasoning and fucked up little brain.

He would NOT say this.

She would not fucking- you know what this is all already down the drain it can't get worse right?

So it got worse-

Babygirl you are insane and cruel and need to be put into Arkham.

....the mysoginy is SO PAINFULLY Evident who wrote this crap. Like seriously what the fuck??? Hello?? Bitch??

There is only ONE scene I like but even that got ruined by bruce punching dick instead of just telling him what he did wrong.

The ONLY panel I actually chuckled a bit at that's it. Even this whole sequence was insane and horrible.

Moral of the story? Don't let Frank Miller right shit he's horrible.

[juniorig0327]

Thinking about my Robin AU, the origins of Percy, etc.

I wanted to play around with Percy being an experiment of some of the dark multiverse Batman variants because like, why not yk? I wanna do something different for once. And so I'm thinking maybe he was experimented on. At first he was a normal kid, but after losing his mom the dark knights found him and Barbatos decided Percy would be perfect, being as he was so very similar to Bruce. Percy had everything a kid could want, despite not being rich, despite his shitty step-dad. But he made one kid mistake and now his mom was gone and he was stuck living to his step dad. Until the Dark Knights found him and took him in under the guise of helping him, but they experimented on him instead and turned him into a weapon (Damian vibes, ikr?)

And so he's found, saved from whatever hellhole he was in, and naturally he has no idea how to act. So he studies Bruce Wayne, looks him up, and everything is sort of ranging from fake smiles to crazy ass "drunk" shit.

So naturally, Percy follows that example and after a few years, which is when the story takes place he's become a bit of a party animal and nobody can really stop him. And the only time he isn't taking like that is when he's Robin, which Bruce sort of did as a way to ground him.

Now whenever people think of the "angry" robin, that's basically what Percy is. He's sort of bitter, and has been for a while so he uses Robin as an outlet. That's not saying he isn't nice or kind, he is. Just generally to other members of the Bat fam like Jason or Dick, someone who can sort of understand.

Anyways, Percy is very emotionally driven.

I've been thinking about other characters and I think I want Grover to be his speedster. Grover would be the new speedster chosen by the speed force after the retirement of Barry Allen (I dont read alot of flash comics so apologize if i get some stuff wrong with these super heroes). Grover would be one of the people Percy is actual open with and they're essentially best friends. Percy is there for Grover when he has trouble being a hero (as Grover would be the least experienced) while Grover is there for Percy when he's essentially drinking and partying himself to death and helping him get back on his feet.

Next up we have our Kryptonian, who is apart of a lineage who left Krypton thousands of years prior to the explosion. Their family has been living at the same planet for a while now, but he's bored. He wants to go out and explore what other planets space has to offer and ends up on Earth. Now, I actually have zero idea what character I want to make this because I wanted to make Thalia, Jason, and Reyna amazonians, which Jason being similar to Diana's brother (of the same name funny enough). He wouldn't be fully Kryptonian and would have some distant blood of other alien species from prior to them settling on whatever planet, but no crazy powers besides typical Kryptonian powers for now. So uh comment any ideas you have.

Now the next member is a Martian which would be Frank. I feel like Frank fits this role perfectly ngl. A Frank who's finally completed his training and joins Percy's hero team to prove himself.

Either Thalia or Reyna as the Amazonian, but probably Reyna. I don't know much about the wonder woman comics sadly so I'll have to come up with a backstory later.

Connor Stoll, seeking to break free from the Arrow Family, specificially his older brother, Travis and finding himself, leading him to joining this young superhero team.

And finally Annabeth Chase, who is more of an honorary member rather than anything. I think I want Annabeth to be possibly Batgirl?? I haven't though it out. Maybe she's a legit child of Bruce and was Robin prior to Percy and after the role of Robin became vacant but got seriously injured which led to Bruce essentially firing her.

Annabeth eventually becomes a vigilante in her own right regardless, even despite Bruce trying to keep her away from that life and steps up when Robin vanishes.

Anyways I was thinking about names bcuz there's no way I'm using Teen Titans. Maybe Outcasts (Or is it too similar to the Outlaws??)

I feel like I'm gonna have ALOT of fun with this and I think I'm gonna start writing it rn. Luckily for me I don't have to put alot of elaborate plot into this because its legit comics, but I do want to have some plot in here.

Anyways, coming soon than you think so, be on the lookout.

[wednesdaymunson]

Over Tacos

Summary: Frank has been gone for weeks and you're bored. Frank comes to "rescue" you. Sex happens and serious conversation.

Warnings: fluff/angst/manhandled/pet names/ unprotected sex/PiV/ cream pie/I think that's it...MDNI

A/n: I honestly couldn't think of a title and it's 11:15pm so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ feedback is most welcome, also reblogs and likes are great!

It had been raining non stop for days. You were tired of staying in and you've already got through your "Things to Do" list. Your cozy apartment was quiet and spotless since Frank has been gone. He hasn't been home in weeks because he's doing what Frank Castle does best.

His number one rule he gave you when he's gone, is not to leave the house at night for anything. It's 10pm and all you hear is the ticking of the clock in the kitchen. All you can think is "Frank, where the fuck are you? I wish you'd come home! I'm dying of boredom." You let out a deep sigh. "Fuck it." You sighed.

You're not completely defenseless, Frank has taught you a few things and made sure you carried some sort of weapon. You put on your leather mini skirt, fishnet underneath, red top, and can't forget your combat boots. You grab your keys and leather jacket and head out the door to a local club a few blocks away.

It's 1:30 am, Frank slips through the window to let himself in. He's bloody, and bruised as usual. He slowly walks the apartment looking for signs of you. "God dammit Y/N!" He shouts. He takes out his phone and calls you.

"Frank! Hey!" You try to yell over the music.

"Y/N, where the fuck are you?! I told you not to leave when I'm not here!" Frank yelling into the phone.

"Don't you.. fucking yell at me like that! I'm... fuck.. you know the club that has cage dancers... and TACOS! Frank! I want tacos!" You exclaim drunkenly.

"You're at Club Red Blood?! Dammit, Y/N and you're drunk!" Frank said.

"No, I'm not drunk just highly tipsy." You giggle.

"I'm comin to get..." Frank pauses as he realizes the call has ended.

You look at your phone and see the call has dropped and you have enough battery to request an uber. You get an uber and they're about 10 minutes away so you decide to go outside to try and sober up a little. You make your way out the club. A couple of guys try to start up a conversation. You know it'll lead to nowhere good.

"Hey sweetness, what's the move for the rest of the night?" Ask one of them.

"I'm just waiting on my uber so I can make it home." You replied.

The group moves a bit too close for comfort.

"Doll, how about you come party with us, we have all the party favors you could ever want." Says the other.

"No thank you. " You sighed.

"Aww, c'mon sweets. I'll make it worth your while." Another said while moving in closer.

You had already pulled out your switchblade. As he moves closer you turn towards him and present it.

"Look fuck-o, if you step another foot closer I'll cut your eyes out and mail them to your mother!" You spat.

Then men looked shocked, they hold up their hands, and quickly walk the other direction down the street taking a few glances back your way.

"Yeah! Leave you pieces of shit!" You laugh loudly.

"Someone's feisty, eh Princess?"

You hear that voice, Frank's voice. You feel a warmth rush over your body. Frank grabs your upper arm and turns you towards him. He's still bloody and bruised, apparent that he rushed to you.

"Frank, how long were you standing there?"

"Long enough for you to threaten the guy." He chuckles.

Frank grabs the back of your neck, pulling you towards his face. His forehead rest on yours.

"Y/N, you know you're so fucking stubborn." He said sternly through gritted teeth as he tightened his grip on your neck.

You winced. "You wouldn't have me any other way." You grin.

Frank lets out a deep sigh and smiles. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. "Let's get you home and fed, sweetheart. The uber is here. "

You both get in the car. You rest your head on Frank's shoulder. It's a quick, quiet ride home. Frank leads you upstairs, opens the door and walks in first to survey the apartment. "Frank, no one is going to break into our place, we're on the very top floor!" You exclaimed while stepping inside and locking the door.

"Sweetheart you know what I do and you know how I am." He opens up the fridge. "Now, we don't have tacos, but it looks like you have some leftover takeout from the Puerto Rican spot down the way. I'll heat that up for you, yeah?"

"I'm not hungry now." You pout. "I get where you're coming from, but you know I can handle myself....but sometimes I need to be handled, Frank." You grin, taking off your jacket.

"Is that so, Princess?" He chuckled while walking towards you. Your sopping, wet cunt pulsating with every heavy step his boots made.

"Mmhm" You nod.

Frank looks down at you. The mixture of blood and sweat that you can smell on him making your heart beat faster. He pulls up your top over your head, unhooks your bra while keeping eye contact, he cups your soft breast. You can feel Frank's bulge pressed against you. He kisses your forehead. "I love you, Y/N."

Frank quickly lifts you up by your throat and slams you up against the wall. You let out a yelp, clawing at Frank's arm. No matter how many times you two have been in this situation, you're still caught off guard. Frank reaches up your skirt with his free hand and rips your fishnets and pushes your panties to the side exposing your wetness. His fingers slide pass your folds to your engorged clit, he lightly runs his finger over it. You let out a groan. "You're so fucking wet. Does my Princess like it when I'm rough?" You nod eagerly. Frank pulls his fingers from under you, covered in your slick. "Open your mouth." He demands. You obey and open. He shoves his fingers in your mouth, down your throat, making you gag. You close your mouth to suck your juices off his fingers. "Good girl."

You wrap your legs around Frank's waist while he unleashes his hard cock from his pants. Without warning he trust his length into your cunt. You gasp feeling a pleasurable burn as Frank bottoms out. "Damn Princess, you feel so fucking good around my cock." He moans. His hand still tight around your throat, kisses you hard and fucks you at a steady pace.

You feel a fire pooling in your lower stomach, you dig your nails into Frank's sides. "Oh no, not yet sweetheart." Frank pulls out and tosses you over his shoulder, sliding off your skirt and panties and whatever is left of your fishnets. "God dammit Frank! I was so close!" You squeal. Frank smacks your ass while he makes his way to the bed room. "I'm not ready for you to cum just yet."

Frank tosses you on the bed and flips you on your stomach. He takes off his shirt and tosses it to the side. You turn your head to take a glance to drink in his physique, studying the old and new bruises that are forming. He joins you in bed and he pulls you up by the hips, lines the head of his dick up with your hot core, and slams into you. "FUUUCCCK!" You cry out, eyes shut tight. Frank leans over you and kisses the back of your neck. He grabs your arms and crosses them behind you and pulls you back towards him, making your back arch. Frank starts to pound into you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. He reaches around and up to your tits, rolling a nipple between his fingers. "Fu-fuck..yeah.. don't stop." You pant. You feel the fire pooling in your lower stomach again. Your breath starts to hitch. "C'mon Princess, cum on my cock. I wanna feel you leak over it and down my balls." Frank grunted in your ear. You inhale, hold your breath, and tense up, gripping around Frank's length as waves of pleasure course through your body. You let out a primal moan that gets louder as you reach your peak. Frank starts losing his rhythm, one last thrust in you, squeezing your wrist tight, you feel his hot ropes of cum filling you up with each pulse from his cock.

He lets out a deep sigh as he pulls out and lays next you. "If my enemies don't kill me, surely this sweet pussy will be the death of me." He chuckled. "How do you feel sweetheart?" He smiled while rubbing your ass. "What do you think?" You laugh. Frank smacks your ass. "Atta girl. Let's take a quick shower and go to bed."

Both of you are finally in bed after the shower, Frank being the big spoon and burying his face in the curve of your neck.

"Princess, you had me worried tonight. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you"

"I know, I'm sorry. I was bored and lonely. I just wanted to have some fun." You sighed.

"I'm sorry baby, you know the work I do takes a lot of time away from our lives together. One day it'll change."

"Yeah, but what if that one day never comes? I want to get out of the city, Frank. I want you all to myself, I babies, I want to have a long life with you." Your voice trembles.

Frank kisses your neck and holds you tight. "Shh, we'll talk about this tomorrow over some tacos. I love you Y/N."

"I love you too." You whisper as you drift off.

[penroseparticle]

Penrose Song of the Day Day 27: I. Pink Toes by Childish Gambino featuring Jhene Aiko

Who doesn't love Dong Lover, honestly.

I think Childish Gambino does a really good job of doing the whole "I came from money but I am part of the culture" bit more than a certain other guy who's on the tip of everyone's tongue right now, tbh.

I think what I like the most about Childish is that, unfortunately, he does activate my nerd rapper neurons (The same ones that go gaga for shit like Hamilton and Watsky and stuff. Sorry Mom, sorry God. It's good though I like it.). But he also is saying something real, and something genuine. There's the acknowledgement and awkwardness present in his stuff. Because The Internet, for instance. Features some of those anxieties around fitting in, and some nerd ass jokes complete with the lampshade of no one getting it. There's something real there, about the black experience. Especially the not black enough experience.

I don't really feel strongly connected with my black heritage, actually. I don't feel really strongly connected to any of my heritage really. There's so many people that I'm standing on top of, being propped up and taken care of by. And I am so far removed from all of them. I don't have any close family anymore, all of my grandparents are passed. I know something about my heritage but it's hard to find a place to begin, where to start. And honestly. It feels like I'm faking right? There's a lot of me that is culturally white. So the anxiety of being the other but not THE OTHER is actually pretty strong. I feel like I can identify more with Gay than with Black, honestly, due to a bunch of things- being forced to confront gay much more often, understanding the rules of the identity, being around other gay people more often.

And of course, the one no one wants to talk about- it's easier. Which sounds so fucking cursed to say but the world is set up that way right? That's part of the whole systemic aspect. And sometimes I do get the racism without any of the cultural solidarity to fall back on. Weird.

I like Pink Toes because I like Sensitive Boy music like Frank Ocean and yes, also Childish Gambino. This song always reminds me of one friend of mine, who also is very black, but plays hockey. He loves this song specifically for Jhene Aiko's part on it. Pink Toes always makes me think of him-I think he's in Minnesota or Wisconsin or something. Coaching hockey. I hope he's happy there.

This song is dreamy. The soundscape has something going to it that makes me think of laying in a field, watching clouds go by. The birds are a nice touch of sound engineering, and you can hear the cop cars at the end but I can see myself in a city park hearing these exact noises.

The drums like... limp along? I don't know how to explain it. The drum noises seem. like. almost behind, playing catchup. The song not hurried though. Like they're just languidly playing. I know it's not out of time or anything. It just gives a good impression of not quite being there but not caring either.

The synth work is fine I think. There's some weird modulation in the Rainbows and Sunshine part that gives almost an unsettled feeling. I do get the feeling that I'm laying in a park just. not doing anything and drifting. But it also kind of gives me the impression that I should. Be concerned? Be worried. But instead I'm ignoring it and laying in a field daydreaming.

It ending on "I'm out of time" right before sirens pop in gives more of that impression to me.

Anyways, Don Glover has this way of like. Making an extremely personal feeling song that somehow is also broadly resonant. those two things are probably very closely related honestly. But I love it. And hey! You could be dead right now. Go listen to something you love.

[why-even-ask]

okay i'm getting personal because it's been on my fucking mind for a while and thank you bioshock i guess.

summary: i love-hate andrew ryan and frank fontaine very much and i have my reasons

aaand of coure, tw domestic abuse, childhood trauma whatever. and alcohol and blood. and bioshock spoilers

yes i love-hate ryan and fontaine

I'd break their noses and try to ruin their lives but also drink with them and chat with them and spend time with them. okay so i played this fucking game (bioshock 1) and i loved it, yeah the twists were fucked up and all but i always had this weird attachment to fontaine and ryan despite also hating them, and then it fucking hit me in the guts one morning

man, my life has been a lie, my childhood has been very fucked up in terms of parental stuff but the fucking trauma bonding does tricks. it took me 18 fucking years to understand that not everyone's parents endanger their children's lives and do horrible shit. it was "first scold him and then ask him if he's dying or not" in medical emergencies, and outright denying possible emergency medical care. i thought my life has been perfect in their hands but apparently false memories. blurry memories coming up to the surface and fucking me up.

i vividly remember the times when her voice went from a soft one to death threats and back like Atlas to Fontaine. I ran from their rage and danger to their shelter. They were all I could ask for and all I was trying to run away from. I had no one else, only one friend who was also abused. We thought it was okay. We thought they were the best parents we could ever have.

and i probably should have learnt after all the life-threatening situations, right? bleeding over the floor daily but being refused care, public shaming after a minor disagreement, all that stuff? i should have learnt that i shouldn't trust them or maybe even not talk to them since I've moved out, but nope. i have even legally applied to get my father's name added to mine. stupid fucking move maybe but I LOVE HIM. I ADORE HIM MORE THAN ANYTHING ON THIS EARTH. yes i am also extremely disgusted and sometimes i want to punch him and his eyes scare me and he could get us all killed multiple times but I LOVE HIM.

I understood it all after playing bioshock. jack did kill fontaine, yeah, but i wouldn't be able to. once fontaine said "you were the closest thing i had to a son" or whatever, i would drop everything and go hug him. i would forgive him. hell, there would be nothing to forgive anyway. i think he'd love me. you can understand how fucked up it sounds but it sounds completely normal to me. i feel like this, i really do.

I find myself calling my parents all the time, hearing their praises makes me feel so fucking good. i would even take a stab to make my parents praise me because i am fucking conditioned to do so. i always wanted them to care, not be mad, i wanted them to smile and say that they were proud of me. it makes me feel whole, makes me feel so fucking happy when they love me. especially with one of them, i would love to drink and fight and break noses and drink and hug and hear praises.

i want him to LOVE ME. i want him to tell me that I am doing well!!!! I want him to see me as his fucking HEIR! I want him to consider my existence! I want him to think about ME and not other people's children!!!!!!!! I want him to set my name in contacts as something other than my full legal name with my surname in all caps!!! He tells me that i wrote my paper well and then i become the proudest, he tells me that it's not as good and then i want to break some noses!!!! it's not fucking enough!!!!!!! i should be the best in his eyes!!!!

i cant imagine a life where im "standing on my two feet" because i wont be able to handle that. i am not able to be "independent", and i don't even want to. yeah jack built himself a life but you know what? i would beg at the feet of ryan and fontaine to consider my existence.

holy fuck now reading it all like this, it sounds horrible. but it's a glimpse of trauma bonding with parents i guess. i should write that shit as a story to explore it or something, i don't know. i wish there was an ending to bioshock where we could save fontaine and he could say lovely words or something. i think im fucked up beyond repair at this point.

[northwest-cryptid]

Hi, completely agree with OP here so not to be "that guy" (I couldn't be that guy unless you use guy in a gender neutral sense anyways, which I do to be fair) but as someone who was a manager at an adult novelty shop for long enough to know shit about stuff.

Don't just go out and buy a dildo. Trust me, that's like buying a hammer when you need a drill; sure it can do the same thing but probably not as well and you're going to have a lot harder of a time working with it.

Especially if you're new to the idea of anything anal, let me be frank I'm not going to sugarcoat or dance around words here so I'm going to drop this under the cut so that anyone who might not enjoy this kind of discussion can simply keep on scrolling but, for those who are in any way curious about this I want to give you the exact same answer I gave the guy who walked into my store at 3 AM and asked me "what's good for gettin' off solo around here?" Also huge props to that guy he didn't even fucking blink when I mentioned the word prostate and just kinda said "hey cool thanks!"

Okay so here's the long and short of it right, yea a dildo will absolutely work and there's nothing really wrong with it except that there's a lot of tools specifically made for this.

If you're new to anal and you're not someone who's done any research you probably don't know what you're getting into. I once tried to recommend the correct type of lube to a guy and he got all smart with me saying "yea I know, water based lube for toys, silicone breaks them down I got it." Which is true! Most of the time. See if a toy is made of silicone it is safe to use with silicone lube, and here's the kicker; water based lube is made with (as I'm sure you know) water, which means it actually contains ingredients that absorb into your skin (ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE DEHYDRATED) and what's wrong with that as you can imagine, is that you suddenly run out of lube with a dildo half way up your ass and you're just kind of standing there (because you sure aren't sitting) thinking "well how the hell do I get this out without it hurting now?" News flash fam, you don't.

So first lesson here is PLEASE for the love of all that is good, if you're gonna be putting anything in your ass, use silicone lube. It's going to last longer, you don't need to use as much meaning you're getting more bang for your buck (literally). However you might be thinking "okay so I need a silicone dildo, but you told me not to go buy a dildo?" Yea okay so if you're new to this, try instead getting something more like a butt plug and also a prostate massager.

Why? Well I'll explain, see your asshole itself CAN stretch yea, but it needs to actually warm up to stretching, if you try to stretch it quickly or all at once you're going to rip it and I'm sure you can imagine you don't want to rip your damn asshole. Butt plugs are actually great for this because you can safely dilate your ass, and typically leave the plug in for a bit to keep your ass dilated for a bit, it's also typically tapered in such a way that you're starting with a very fine point and working up to a larger diameter before returning to a slightly larger than starting point and they have a stopper, get one with a handle on it so it's easier to remove, you're using it as a tool not trying to look cute here.

Prostate massagers give you all the pleasure of anal without having to have some massive dildo in your ass which means less time warming up and less fear when it comes to literally stretching out your insides.

Typically prostate massagers have a thinner rod with a tip that is specifically rounded off and meant to be the right size to find and massage your prostate which is important since I'm assuming you're new to this and don't want to have to fit a whole dildo in your ass while also trying to find your damn male g-spot, plus most of them vibrate; which is cool for some people. It's like heated seats in a car, could take it or leave it but it's a deal breaker for some people if it doesn't have it.

So remember,

Silicone lube, silicone toys, butt plug + prostate massager, and then when you're confident go get that damn dildo.

I once had a customer walk up to the counter with no less than 13 dildos, absolute massive ones too; I told him I didn't have any large bags left to which he just scooped them up in his arms, said "no need!" and walked out the door in broad daylight. Absolute king shit right there.

Do what you want, fuck what people say about it; and please be safe. If you have any questions regarding stuff like this I'm totally open to answering stuff, you can even ask on anon I do not mind I'll still take you seriously. Just please be advised that the kid who tried to prank call us with "what's the biggest dildo you've got" received no less than 15 minutes of statistical breakdown of each large dildo, what it's made of, how much it costs, and by the end of it got very annoyed with me taking him seriously. However the guy who called to ask if we had the "new thanos sex tape" did not expect my answer of "...okay listen the manager just left the building, I'm not supposed to say this but we just got a shipment, now we have some on DVD but we have 3 on blu ray, if you can confirm with me that you can be here today no later than 3 PM when I get off my shift, I'll pocket one of the blu rays for you, $150 no negotiation." To which I was not expecting him to come back with "...blu ray ey? Got IMAX? It's IMAX or bust." I still live for the eruption of laughter I could hear from his peers when I responded "oh you'll bust alright dude, I got IMAX but it's gonna cost you $400, we got a deal?" Moral of the story? If you're gonna try to prank call me in any form, be it calls or asks; bring your best improv skills or be ready to be sorely annoyed by my encyclopedic knowledge of sex toys.

It's kind of tragic how homophobia affects insecure men.

Like sometimes they want to experiment with a bit of anal and instead of just buying a sex toy and some lube like a normal person, they instead shove random objects up their ass that inevitably get stuck and then they try to get them out by themselves which makes things worse and then they lie to doctors about it and like this all leads to all kinds of extra complications like internal damage, risk of infections, bleeding, the fall of Yugoslavia, etc.

Come on guys, just buy a dildo. It's way safer and it leads to way fewer problems.

[paxtonbirthstory]

August 11th -- Happy birthday, Paxton

I woke up around 3AM feeling a little crampy. Not anything too bad, but enough to wake me up. I fell back asleep but still had the feeling when I woke up that morning. I also had a little bit of blood on the toilet paper, so I started to get a little concerned. (Ok, a lot concerned.)

I called the OBGYN department and told them what was going on to see if I should go to Labor & Delivery instead of my normal NST appointment that morning. The nurse went to talk to a doctor and came back on the phone to say I should probably get checked out, but the L&D unit is really full today, so I should probably go to the Woodland Hills Kaiser instead of my normal Sunset location -- just in case. They wouldn't want me to be stuck waiting in a hallway on the unlikely chance I was going into labor.

I said ok, hung up, and immediately started crying. I do not want to have this baby away from my doctors who know all the shit this kid and I have been through. Frank calms me down and says we're just getting checked out, it will be fine.

So I drove myself up to a foreign hospital.

When I got to the area, I navigated my way through the parking garage -- circling up to the top floor. How was I ever going to remember where I parked over here? I took a picture and tried to figure out where Labor & Delivery was.

I went through an outdoor Covid line and was pointed in the direction of L&D.

I kept thinking everyone probably thought I was just visiting because I still wasn't hugely pregnant. I was only 35 weeks along with a small baby. I haven't even taken bump pictures!

When I got to the front desk, I told them I was cramping and spotting and gave them the quick rundown. I really just wanted an NST and to be told all was good and it's time to go home.

They set me up in a room and had me change into a gown -- I think. I can't remember when I was given a gown since I'm usually in my normal clothes for the NST. And not thinking about it, I was already in my own room which is different from normal too. Hmm... I sent Frank a picture of me in the gown with a "sigh" at 11AM.

Anyway -- they hooked baby up to the monitors and two nurses kept coming in to check on me. At one point, the newer nurse couldn't find the heartbeat, which isn't uncommon because babies move. She called in another nurse who had me flip from one side to the other and before I knew it, they had pushed a button on the wall, put an oxygen mask on me and another nurse was coming at me with an IV. I start crying immediately thinking this was the moment I lose my baby.

Next thing I know, I'm on all fours waiting to hear a sound on the monitors, nothing. So they start to flip me again and a nurse is yelling "needle! needle!" The nurse with the IV backs up as they untangle all the monitor wires wrapped around me and then we get a heartbeat. It strengthens and some of the nurses leave. They tell me dad should try to get here soon because we don't want that to happen again. The heartbeat is there, but it had dipped to 60 when it should be around 140+.

Frank gets stuck in the Covid line trying to park and I tell him we're just waiting on him and they will be delivering the baby. This was not the plan! Frank can't wrap his head around the fact that the baby is actually coming...now.

When he gets to the room, there is confusion about my blood thinner shot I took that morning. There is a young doctor telling us I'm going to have to be put all the way under -- which I definitely don't want, so I argue that the other doctor said I was fine, so now everyone is double checking everything.

Turns out, they are going to knock me out completely and Frank can't come in for the birth of our son anymore.

Being put to sleep and never waking up to see Quinley again has been one of my worst nightmares since hearing about thei baby's complications. I am terrified as I'm being wheeled into the operating room. They start taking all my jewelry off and one of my nurses -- I will never forget -- holds my head in her hands, looking at me upside down and says, "We've got you. You are going to be ok." This calms me a little bit and they put the mask on my face to go to sleep. I can still hear all the chaos around me as I lose consciousness.

***

When I open my eyes, I'm lost and can't really remember where I was, but they hand me a baby and I just grab him and start crying. I can't believe he's actually here. No tubes, no wires, just so so tiny. 4 lbs tiny.

I just keep asking if he can stay with us and "is he ok?" His breathing is a little labored, but he's great.

Once we get to our room, our nurse says she's a little concerned about his breathing and wants to take him to the NICU to get checked. Of course, we are fine with this -- I'm almost relieved because I still don't believe he's totally fine after the pregnancy we've had.

So of course he gets admitted up there and they want to give him some oxygen to help him breath easier. I am told to sleep and Frank has to check on Quinley -- who, by the way, had to be picked up from school early because the school had Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease all over and they closed early. They will stay closed the next day. While I was in surgery, Frank had to arrange for our neighbor, Amy, to pick her up. Insanity!

The next 3 days were spent healing, pumping, and visiting the little guy in the NICU. It is so hard to see him on a feeding tube with a tiny little oxygen tube in his nose and wires all over his body. But he is so strong -- each day he progresses.

First day, he's regulating his body temp....next, he's breathing Room Air...then finally, they can take the feeding tube out. I was actually pumping and starting to get some milk to give to him...we were looking pretty good on the Paxton front.

Me on the other hand....

[poisonedspider]

The amount of energy it took to not be an absolute asshole to Frank was pretty high. His initial response of 'no fucking shit dumbass' was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. Frank didn't deserve that. All the egg boys might not be the smartest minions in the chicken coop or whatever, but he knew that they had kind hearts. That in his own little minion way, he was trying.

He was about to say something, much kinder than the initial thought, when Pentious came stumbling up onto the roof. Angel looked over at the snake, his eyes bloodshot and completely dulled out, not an inch of life in that gaze. He didn't fully know what to say when Pentious had shown up - hey there, beautiful night isn't it, I was just about to shoot myself to double death?

Figured it was better not to speak until spoken to. Though even that statement had made it hard for him to return any language himself; while Angel was normally a man of many words, it seemed impossible to in this moment. He was upset that Pentious had found him. He had been confused why it had been him in the first place. He had been guilty that he had to be found like this, and that Pentious seemed in such distress about his plan.

Of course, none of the hotel had much to do with this little escapade. Or at least, only barely. He was struggling with the fact that he could still never do anything right it seemed, to the point that Heaven still didn't think his actions were good enough for redemption. Having been there the longest, it was certainly an exhaustive feeling, not making any progress. Feeling stuck. The main reason he was up on that roof, was it not?

Feeling stuck, in so many ways. Stuck in his contract with Valentino. Stuck with not being able to change bad habits. Stuck here in fucking Hell to suffer for all fucking eternity like the rest of them. He simply shrugged then, turning back towards Pentagram City. But for Pentious' peace of mind, Angel grabbed the gun, flipping the safety on. Even passing it to Frank and shooting him a look. "Don't lose it. It belongs t' Val."

That was all he said, bringing his lanky legs up to his chest and tucking them against the fluff, staring outward at the red sky. What could he possibly say to Pentious in that moment? Apologize? Tell him to go back to the hotel? His brain wasn't fully clear, still in a slight dissociative state, but he was at least safe for now.

The egg hid his face at the sound of the unleashed bullet, careful not to shatter while he was on such an important mission. After a moment, he peeked from behind his twig-like fingers, realising that the shot had fired somewhere in the distance instead of on either Angel, or himself.

"Umm, Boss is coming here too," he informed, still fixated on the weapon in the spider's arms. The spider boss wasn't handling it very safely. Boss always said not to point the pipe towards one's face. And he said that firearms should never ever be handled if you were crying or having a tantrum or too tired.

"You should probably put that away, Boss," Frank said. "You might get hurt."

It only took a few minutes after that for the door leading to the roof's staircase to open with a slam.

But those minutes hadn't felt short for Sir Pentious.

He had been terrified and frantic ever since the morning, his heart was in his throat even as Frank managed to secure Angel's location and Pentious had found the correct building.

But ever since the serpent had heard the gunshot as he was still making his way up the stairs, he had been petrified. He had climbed up the stairway, fallen once, twice, and had his claws bent backwards from grabbing the railing, but he never stopped once. He had been in this position before. And the last time he had been too late, all too late and all he could think as he scrambled up the final steps and ripped the door open was 'Not again. Not again. Please, not Angel too.'

And now he stood there in the doorway, gasping for breath, tears in his eyes, tasting blood and his venom that started producing in response to his fear. Only this time not for the fear for his own safety, but for Angel's.

His many eyes located the other Sinner and his dear minion soon and he felt a slight jolt of energy in his chest from seeing his dear new friend alive. He nearly collapsed, but managed to sway his way a bit closer to the other demon. Only a tad, scared of pushing him into a reckless act by being too fast. He whimpered.

"Angel- Angel, please- I...You... I'm so happy to sssee you."

[this-is-where-i-hide-my-bullshit]

hey, im the anon that sent the (other) long ask. the stuff on your other blog is fun! and you can definitely see your improvement from then to now. I especially love your sculptures and the potion box you made is so cool.

I second what another anon said about adding lyrics, or maybe some story in the caption to make the art come alive. for example, drawing frank in some speedos would be hot, but adding 'he only goes swimming to stare at lifeguards all day' or something dumb like that turns the art into a character, instead of just frank in speedos. it adds personality to an otherwise flat 2d character. it leaves things to the imagination.

I understand the pressure that wanting to make money from your art puts on you - I want to make money from my writing one day, but I know that in the creative industry it's mostly about luck. I know you've tried Instagram, but have you tried other ways to broaden where you post/the audience you're trying to reach? try posting to twitter for a month, or try making progress posts on tiktok. I know it's shitty, but if you're serious about making money from it you have to throw a lot of shit at the wall and see what sticks. I think looking at what has been successful for you so far and replicating elements from those pieces would be helpful too - what did people say in the tags? what kind of blogs reblogged it? what are other 'popular' artists in the fandom doing?

I know it's so easy to get worn down, and it sounds like you're having a really hard time with this. I'm not your therapist, but I strongly recommend taking some time out of posting if it's affecting you a lot. draw some stuff that you have no intention of anyone else seeing, stuff that you want to keep all to yourself, and see how creating that makes you feel.

you ARE good enough, your art is truly incredible and you've clearly worked hard to get your skill level so high - maybe your posts just need tweaking, or maybe you just haven't found your audience yet. I wish you all the best, and I hope you take this all as constructive ❤️❤️

Thanks.

I don't know about Twitter for the mcr stuff, because the idea of Frank stumbling on all my drawings of him is terrifying. But maybe I could try it with my other stuff, if Twitter doesn't completely fall apart as a website. I've never actually posted on Twitter before so I'd have to learn how exactly it works. And how to avoid the kinda stuff I saw last time I tried checking out mcr stuff on Twitter.

My stuff that does the best seems to be the stuff with some sort of joke or punchline, but I don't know how to be funny on command. I didn't sit down and try to come up with silly ideas, the silly ideas just happened on their own and then I drew them. So if I'm going to try to do more of that then I need to learn how to be funny, without it looking like I'm trying to be funny. Also there's no guarantee that any joke will land, it's a gamble every time. But it at least gives people more motivation to hit reblog.

My problem with comedy is that to be marketable I'd need to be a silly birthday party clown, but I always end up as one of those sad black and white clowns.

I want to try new things, but also there's the fear of "what if this doesn't work? What if I try everything possible and still fail? What do I do then?"

People don't really say much of anything in the tags besides a vague "this is great!", if they even say anything at all. It's hard to guess what they liked about it, if there was even anything in particular they liked and they didn't just reblog it to be nice. It's usually the same few blogs that reblog my work, and I do appreciate it, but sometimes I wonder if I'm not really that good and that's why there isn't a lot of different blogs or blogs that don't already follow me who reblog my stuff.

The popular artists are all drawing Gerard, but I don't think that there's anything I could draw of just Gerard that hasn't already been done better by someone else. I drew Joan of arc Gerard but nobody was all that into it. Probably because I was trying to emulate a specific style from one of my favorite comics and I don't think I did that great of a job. But yeah I don't have any Gerard ideas for drawings, and I'm not a Gerard centric blog so anyone who follows me for that would be disappointed.

I've done little comics with multiple band members but I don't know if doing more of those would help or not. Maybe, but I'd have to come up with ideas. Also it's hard for me to draw Ray and Mikey without accidentally turning then into my brothers because they look similar.

I need to make my drawings less stiff and polished and I meed to be funnier. If that doesn't work then I'll officially be out of ideas.

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 51

anon - i love this series sm 😭 what if baby scarab runs into one of her old abusive foster families and steven has to prevent jake and marc from fronting and he fails miserably

~~~

anon - BS having a nightmare about her dads hurting her?

~~~

A/N : just a reminder that dreams are visions into another universe :(

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : using poe dameron gifs bc idk where to find more mk ones :(

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, mentions of violence, language, old foster parents bringing up old shit, an almost panic attack, nightmare, protective dads, mentions of pedophilia, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

“wait so they just started following you and saying things-“ marc stops himself. “wait what did they even say?”

you sigh for what feels like the millionth time.

it was the next morning, marc drinking coffee while interrogating you now that you felt better, taking your medication at the right times now.

your head still felt a little off, but better enough to be able to think straight.

“frank told you, didn’t he?” you dodge the question and marc nods.

“well- yeah but i want to hear it from you” he says honestly and you hum.

“what if i don’t want to talk about it?” you ask and reach for the remote, turning on the tv until marc takes it away, turning it back off.

“then i’d tell you that whenever you feel like it, you can. whenever you want” he begins. “oh, and i already called you in today, so don’t even think about leaving alone”

“but i need more pop tarts we ran out again” you whine and marc scoffs.

“how are we out already? we just- nevermind” he sighs.

“i can go to the market with you later, if you want” steven offers and you smile.

“see? this is why stevens my favorite” you start. “plus i won’t be alone, i’ll have you guys” you say, and marc rolls his eyes.

“i know but-“

“you still worry, yeah i get it but it’ll be a short trip, what could happen?”

~~~

you took forever getting ready, but now you and steven were hand in hand on the way to the store.

you found it comforting to be holding one of your dads hands while you were in public.

it comforted them too.

you had been touch starved ever since you remember, and now that you’ve been completely comfortable with all your dads, you had no problem with just taking their hand in yours just because you feel like it.

now all three of them had lacked comfort as well.

marc being abused by his mother after his brother passed away, stevens life being a bit messed up by not knowing he had an american man living inside him, and jake, who had been in hiding, only coming out to protect steven or marc without them knowing.

marc and jake loved it especially because it made them feel special.

they’ve killed so many people- and knowing that a teenage girl trusts them makes them feel like they can actually be good people.

and that’s because they are, they just don’t believe it.

steven though, has just simply never had anybody.

all the dates that had been messed up, and just no time to ever connect with anyone until now.

he simply just liked the feeling of having someone that wanted to connect with him, especially his kid.

now back to walking on the sidewalk, steven guides you into the less crowded store and grabs a basket, you letting go of his hand while he does so.

“now why don’t you go get your pop tarts, and meet me by the produce” he starts. “how does that sound?” he asks and you smile while nodding.

“it sounds great” you begin, walking backwards. “see you in a minute” you turn around to the pop tarts while steven wanders towards the produce.

it was almost empty in the store, thank khonshu, while you walked down the aisles, searching for your favorite flavor of pop tarts.

you found them and picked up the box with a small smile, about to go find steven when you heard a voice that made that smile disappear, a frown replacing it with semi widened eyes.

“is that y/n? y/n y/l/n?” you turn around and see a middle aged woman, and an adult woman as well, looking like the older ‘sister’ you once had.

the last home you were in, the one where you spent most of your time starved in a basement- this was the family.

well, some of it at least.

the older woman- your old ‘mother’ looked at you in shock, and you just stared back, the pop tart box in a tight grip in your hand.

you just clench your jaw as they both walked towards you with small smiles.

“oh, look how you’ve grown-“ the older lady says, putting a hand out towards your face but you hit it away.

“don’t” you whisper out, your voice not wanting to get any higher. “please leave me alone” you back up and turn to get away from them when the person looking at you when you turned around made your breath hitch and stop in your tracks.

it was him.

your old ‘father’.

he was older. but he still had that same scowl on his face whenever he looked at you.

“what the hell is she doing here? i thought she was still in the crazy place” is the first thing he says, nearing both the women, and when he passed you, you couldn’t help but flinch when he got too close.

you felt overwhelmed, and your ears felt like someone had shoved a bunch of cotton balls in them.

just hearing all their voices made you want to hide in your room under your bed for the rest of your life.

you just shakily watched all of them stare at you while you breathed heavily and clutched the food to your chest.

you couldn’t bring yourself to move back, it was like your feet were cemented into the floor.

the thing is, you were scared- no, terrified.

you could go your whole life not knowing whatever happened to these people, yet here they are. 

“yeah i thought she’d still be there too but obviously she’s not” the younger girl says and you blink away tears, not wanting them to see you cry.

the large man just stared down at you, not sure what to think.

the last time he saw you, he sent you away and watched as you were knocked out and wheeled away after being deemed insane.

and now here you were, staring at them like they were ghosts.

“are you okay?” your old ‘sister’ asks and your eyebrows furrow as you bite your lip.

“please don’t-“

“why are you acting so scared, huh?” the man asks and you avoid looking near him as his voice sounded tense and angry.

you could bring yourself to say anything, just hearing his voice brought back too many memories.

when he would smack you around for breathing too loud, or not being grateful so he would throw you in the basement.

or just throw things at you, like glass bottles or heavy books just for fun.

“what did we ever do to you?” he says to you, making your head shoot your to look at him through blurry vision.

“you starved me and locked me in a basement” you end up letting out a quiet whimper at the end of your sentence, putting a hand to your mouth to not let anything else out, afraid he would actually hit you in public.

“because you were ungrateful” he starts, scoffing while the two women just give him subtle judgmental looks. “and it looks like you still are. let me guess, you made some fancy couple pity you so that you would get adopted” he states and you shake your head.

he just scoffs again and the younger woman rolls her eyes.

“just leave her, she doesn’t want to see us and she isn’t our problem anymore” she says and you blink rapidly to try and makes the tears go away.

“oh jesus- you’re crying? you think i can’t see through your act?” he steps closer to you. “you’re crazy. delusional. you better get your ass back in that asylum before you scare anyone else off” he grits out and you make a furrow your brows.

“oh you don’t know, do you?” he starts, a bitter smile on his face as he takes another step closer, the two women just ignoring everything and browsing the shelves.

“your first family? when they found out about you they gave you back” he starts and your frown deepens. “last i heard they left town after not feeling safe in their own home. reports of feeling like they were being watched every since you left”

“can’t you see? you just leave danger in your path, you scare people, and that- the fact that you are a deranged little kid is the reason it got you abused” 

he took yet another step closer, so that he was really in your face. 

“i don’t know why we ever took you in. always ungrateful, and disrespectful” he shakes his head, glaring into your eyes as if you murdered his entire family.

your eyes just filled with more tears, while you shrunk into yourself, feeling small once again like you did only a few years ago.

“i don’t know why anyone would ever want someone like you. you’re a psychopath. you see things, hear things, and you terrify anybody that gets to know you”

“and that’s all you’ll ever do. you can’t do anything else, you’re a defenseless, weak little kid, you’ll never amount to anything” he chuckles darkly.

he is about to continue when he’s roughly shoved away, and the two women turn their attention back to help the man from stumbling over.

steven was the one who shoved him away, putting a hand out in front of you as a foe of protection as you stare at the floor with wide, teary eyes.

“have you gone mad?” steven exclaims, looking at the man with disgust and surprise.

“this is a kid you’re talking to- a completely normal one at that” steven defends you while he feels both marc and jake trying to push him away so that they could have their own talks with the man.

steven quickly tells them to stop, and that he can handle this in his head, no longer feeling the pressure in his head after that.

“so? what’s it to you? i was just telling her i was surprised to see she was still-“

“what? still what?” steven presses impatiently.

“sane, by now i thought she’d be kept in padded rooms by the way she used to act around us” he starts. “embarrassing us then acting like nothing happened” he mutters and steven scoffs.

“maybe you should be the one in the asylum” his eye twitches in anger, and he stands a bit more in front of you.

“she is not crazy- and she isn’t some defenseless kid! hell, she could probably take you down is she wanted to” steven shouts at him and the man rolls his eyes.

“oh yeah? why are you even defending her? do you know what she sees? she sees things that aren’t even there” he explains and steven shakes his head.

“i’m defending her because she is my daughter- and because it’s the right thing to do” steven begins and the man’s composure falters for a second.

“and yes. i know of her illness, and it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. and do you know why? it’s because that doesn’t define who she is! she is the smartest kid i’ve ever met- and she is literally capable of anything you don’t even understand” steven stops himself and you shakily reach a hand to tug at his sleeve, making him turn around with softer eyes.

he just gives you a nod, and turns to the man one last time.

“if i hear that you’ve said a single word to her again- and that applies to all of you- we will personally see to it that you can never speak again” steven ends darkly and turns around to guide you away from them.

the commotion had gathered a small crowd, all of them on your and stevens side after hearing steven yelling at them.

“hey kid, you alright?” you hear marc ask and you just distractedly nod while adjusting your hold on the pop tart box.

“i’m.. im alright. thank you guys” you end quietly and steven stops the both of you behind one of the taller shelves for some privacy.

“i’m sorry if i freaked you out, i don’t know what came over me, i-“ you cut steven off by hugging him tightly.

“he deserved it” you assure him.

“he deserved more” jake scoffs and you sigh, letting go of steven and avoiding eye contact.

“maybe he’s right. maybe i’m cursed or something” you start, steven shaking his head.

“everywhere i go, danger follows. yesterday with those guys, and now today with.. them” you sigh and put your pop tarts in the basket steven was holding, making sure they didn’t crush the fresh fruits and vegetables.

“you aren’t cursed, it was just bad luck” steven guides you to the checkout, while you just listen to him talk.

“he didn’t know what he was talking about, trust me you aren’t insane. yes, you have your moments like when you brought a duck home, and the whole sex thing- but you’re pretty normal otherwise” he says quickly and you find yourself smiling as he pays for all the groceries, and you slip some money in his pocket for the pop tarts.

“well, as normal as you can be with the- thank you-“ he quickly thanks the lady at the register while speaking to you.

“anyways, you got bit by a radioactive spider and now you have spider powers, and in my personal opinion i think that’s a bit more strange than your illness” steven whispers to you honestly and you smile, taking the bag from him so that you could hold his hand again as you walked out of the store.

“you don’t have to carry that-“

“yes i do” you tell him and he stays quiet.

the walk home is quiet, which you liked since you had an odd sense of closure with your old ‘family’.

you’d never seen steven act like that before, even the way he so aggressively pushed that man away from you and yelled at him.

that was always more marc and jakes thing, but honestly seeing steven stand up for something he knew was right made you proud of him.

he was proud of himself too, he didn’t even think he had it in him to stand up to anybody like that, especially someone much larger than him.

he felt an adrenaline rush when he saw that man all up in your face.

he was waiting just a bit too long by the produce when he decided to look for you, and when he turned a corner some guy was just insulting you and calling you crazy.

what happened in his head, is that he beat the absolute shit out of that guy and took you home so that he could watch your favorite show with you while you calmed down.

well, he got the ending right because after putting away all the groceries that’s exactly what you did.

you were sat next to him, messing with your hair rather than actively watching tv.

steven had noticed of course, too. he was watching you.

but not in a creepy way, no, more like in a worried way.

you would usually be talking his ear off, or at least doing something to interact with him.

but here you were. sitting almost a foot away from him while your head was in space.

it was the most awkward you and steven have ever been to be honest.

it was either you or him making conversation, and he didn’t even know what to say.

he didn’t want to trigger you or set you off if he says the wrong thing, but he also wanted to give you a sense of closure.

marc and jake both agreed that steven should just man up and say something, just to at least make you feel a little better.

“so.. y/n. if there’s anything you’d like to talk about i’d-“

“why would i want to talk about it? i already said i was fine” you interrupt him with an all too fake smile.

“darling, this is really bothering you, isn’t it?” steven states more than questions and you give up and nod.

“more than it should” you mumble angrily.

“here, how would you usually release your anger when you were in foster homes?”

“steven how does this help, amigo?” jake asks and steven shushes him.

“just trust me” he mutters and you think about it for a second before answering hesitantly.

“sometimes i would punch the wall until my hands were bleeding” you mumble and steven hums.

“glad you grew out of that” he starts. “..anything else?”

“i.. i used to fight kids at school. my first fight was in second grade when i threw a rock at someone’s head and then she turned around and started pulling my hair and.. it just escalated from there” you explain and steven nods.

“okay.. so you’ve released anger physically” he nods to himself. “alright then” 

you notice him tense up only a bit, and by the way he changed his posture you could tell it was marc.

“fight me” is the first thing he says and you just raise an eyebrow.

“no” you start. “what the fuck”

“yeah, come on just hit me, i’ll heal right away plus it’s not like you can actually hurt me” marc chuckles and you deadpan at him.

“no. ass”

“aww, y/n come on” he tries to convince you and you shake your head.

“just one punch, really quick” he tells you, putting both his hands up so that you could hit his palms if you wanted to.

you just stared at him with a small smile. “nah, i’m- i’m good” you say and marc sighs dramatically.

“wimp”

“shut up marc”

“chicken”

“marc” 

“wuss”

“i swear to-“

“fine, i get it you’re too scared-“ you cut marc off by shoving his hands away and flipping him around by his shoulders to pin him down to the couch, twisting one of his arms behind his back and moving it up further every time he tried moving.

“hey hey hey- now wait a damn minute-“ marc takes a couple breaths.

you just smile from above him while jake laughed.

“steven was right, i feel better” you nod to yourself.

marc just lays there in defeat as jake keeps on laughing.

“see, and now you can say you’ve beat marc in a fight” you can sense the smile on stevens face.

“hey she didn’t beat me, if we were really fighting i would’ve gone easy, but i still woulda won” marc complains and you chuckle, getting off of him while he sits back up and rubs his wrist.

“sorry if i actually hurt you” you mumble.

“you didn’t, but i am proud, you did that perfectly just how i taught you” marc compliments and you find yourself smiling again before it quickly fades.

“i know i say it too much but i really do appreciate you guys” you begin. “you act like i don’t have schizophrenia, you tear me like i’m a person and really love you all for that”

you take a quick breath and continue. “it’s hard to think about everyone else before you guys because they all treated me like i was a disease or like i was just some stress ball. so they didn’t acknowledge me or they.. they hated me and hit me and-“ you cut yourself off, feeling a weight come off of your chest.

“you guys are my first real family. it’s weird saying that since im 17 but still” you lean back on the couch and marc does the same, pulling you close to him so that your head rested between his chin and his shoulder.

“and we are honored to be your first real family. we love you, honey” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you snuggle in closer to marc, making him chuckle.

“you tired?” he asks and you just hum.

marc adjusts you so that you’re laying more comfortably, with your head in his lap while he played with your hair, knowing you liked that.

it was almost like flipping a light switch when you fell asleep.

unexpected honestly, and you weren’t even remotely prepared for what was coming.

~~~

you woke up alone, which confused you as you sat up and looked all around the apartment.

nobody was there, and you couldn’t find any notes so you frantically looked around the house for anything, when all of a sudden jake appeared in front of you, adjusting his hat as you flinched back from shock.

“holy shit- jake you scared me what happened?” you ask him and he shakes his head slowly and you raise an eyebrow.

“jake..? you okay?” you question and he tilts his head at you.

“i am” is all he says before he slouches over, and takes off the hat.

“steven?” you ask again, and he nods slowly while you just stare at him.

“what is going on?” you mutter to yourself and he chuckles.

“you don’t know? are you delusional or something?” he ask sarcastically and your jaw drops.

“steven what the hell? are you being serious?” you exclaim, and he crosses his arms.

“you know, i only defended you so that it would hurt more” he starts and you get even more confused.

“what are you saying? are you- do you really mean that?”

“why of course i do. you think we mean anything we say?” he takes a step closer to you and you back away.

“scared, love?” he raises an eyebrow and uncrosses his arms.

“you should be. you’re stupid to trust anybody when you’re the way that you are. crazy. delusional” he takes a step closer with every word, you backing up until you’re against a wall.

“psychotic” he grins at you and you furrow your brows.

“this isn’t real” you mutter to yourself, knowing for a fact that this couldn’t actually be happening.

“yes it is, darling” he says the last word with venom laced in his tone.

“no it’s not” you grit out pushing him away from you, and right after you do, the unexpected happens.

steven brought his hand back, and released it to swing right at your face, hitting you right in the cheek.

your eyes widened and you froze up, bringing a hand up to feel where he had hit you.

you blink once, and he was gone, and you find yourself in front of a mirror.

and another blink later, you aren’t in the reflection.

the person that was in the reflection was arthur harrow, smiling at you while you tried your hardest to breath.

“no.. why.. this- you can’t-“

“your time will come, y/n. soon enough” he tells you, and then, it all goes back to black.

~~~

A/N : i’m so so sorry about the weird ending it’s really rushed bc i’m already late at posting but i really do hope you enjoyed it, stay tuned for more :)

see you all in a few days :)

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