#i literally hate frank castle so much like it actually pisses me off i think about him so much bc i think like normally i would be so sick

[narutosux]

something that i sit down and think about so often is how like... jon bernthal has REALLY good aesthetics for the punisher, he plays the part well, and GOD i love his voice for frank BUT... he literally doesnt get the punisher at all and im always like... thinking about him saying at some point "oh he doesnt wear the costumes and whatever" and the comics are just like him in a black unitard with a skull on the chest and white gogo boots and white gloves and im like ???

ok girl then what are THESE?

[tomb-bloom-noctem]

Were there any episodes in season 3 where you felt they could've been written better? I'm only asking because I had some ideas I wanted to share with people about fixing them since, to me, the season started becoming a mess around The Phantom and the Sorceress. And the episodes don't need to be outright bad, there could just be parts in it you didn't like.

Oof. I've been a bit loud and obnoxious about certain episodes for sure 😅 I'll try to briefly sum up a few.

Also I'm just gonna say, some of these are just I don't like what they did rather than any huge fundamental problems like the finale.

Also disclaimer. This is not an attack on anyone who likes these episodes! Nobody has to agree with me! If you like these episodes cool! Glad you got something out of it! This is just Tombs being a nit pick loud mouth.

Rumble for Ragnarok

I can't complain too much about this one as it was still entertaining. Norse is part of my heritage and I'm a fan of the mythology which was on full display this episode. My only real issue this episode is that the message gets a little lost at least on me. And then two is I think out of all the episodes this one is the one that could absolutely be thrown out without losing anything really important. Trade this episode for something different. Something more important.

The Forbidden Fountain of the Forever Glades

Scrooge's behavior and leaving Webby in the jungle was painful to watch. (Much as I don't like the finale twist, the twist actually makes this episode worse.) [Also so much for Goldie's "fresh start" when in Split Sword of Swanstitine later showed she once again attempted to double cross Scrooge. Yeah. Fresh start. Totallyyyy.] Goldie is a fun character and I can't hate her too much. The episode has its merits and definitely still think this episode should be around but Scrooge's behavior here really kills me. Thankfully at the end he does better but ugh. It's low on the overall ranking for me based on how he behaves and treats Webby.

New Gods on the Block

I actually really love this episode but Storkules was pissing me off too much 😂 Nit pick for sure. I love this himbo but got dangit he was making me so mad. I get it was kinda important for the overall plot but come on we got so little Donsy content that it was frustrating that he was so intrusive.

The First Adventure

Nit picking again. I think it's kinda random how in the span of a few hours a hard ass like Scrooge went from "my obnoxious niece and nephew" to "my heirs and beloved family." I guess it's possible but not a fan of that kind of writing. For me it would make more sense that they had several adventures or at least more time with them before they became "his heirs" in his eyes. Extreme nit picking on my part though, the episode isn't bad at all really. Also no Hortense and Quackmore. Yes they were named. (Or she was) No we never got to see them. Rude! This was actually a really good episode though overall again I just have some minor nit picks.

The Fight for Castle McDuck

Okay this one is also kind of a nit pick but it's more like based on the episode's timing. I think it is absolutely ridiculous that Webby "Knower of all things Clan McDuck" has no idea that a family of Scots fights a lot. I can somewhat forgive it though as she's young and isn't as familiar with this side of the family in the flesh. But it's so weird how this late into the show we're seeing this?? I think I would have liked this episode more if it had popped up earlier into season 3 rather than so late? It just was a kinda weird episode and not the most enjoyable but the timing I think made it worse. Also the no mention of Hortense again. Referring to Matilda as the youngest when that's supposed to be Hortense? It's really not the worst episode. It just feels a bit off to me and again to me mostly the timing of it. Could have been better, could have been worse.

How Santa Stole Christmas

THROW THIS EPISODE INTO THE FUCKING GARBAGE. HATE HATE HATE IT. THIS ONE ACTUALLY MAKES ME RAGE.

This episode is actually worse for me than the finale. Literally I consider this episode the worst in the series. I just hate it!!!

I hate that this episode was about Scrooge and Santa. I really don't give a fuck why Scrooge hates Santa and this story in no way compelled me. (Also why was Scrooge and Santa's dialog weirdly shippy??? Thanks to this episode got another huge NOtp, "scranta" is gross, sorry, hate it. Absolutely cannot board that ship at all, I have the tag blocked.) I see absolutely no reason why this was the story we got when there was literally an option to follow up The Last Christmas now that Della was finally home????? MISSED OPPORTUNITY!!! I hate the weird crazy ass capitalist message going on throughout the episode, I get Scrooge is a capitalist himself but he didn't change from this episode? He walked away from Jennifer's obvious poverty life and went "ah as long as she's happy" instead of I don't know, maybe a message about helping the less fortunate??

Look maybe I'm just bitter from my own life. I've lived in extreme poverty my whole life. My parents home has literally looked so much liked the ruined place Jennifer lived in during the episode. And I live in Alaska so I KNOW COLD. I know how it feels to go cold for days on end, no food, no water, nothing. Extreme poverty. Scrooge could have done something. He wasn't like Donald who doesn't have much either. He's a freaking billionaire. He could have helped. And instead the message he walked away with is "if you're happy life is fine" or something. Whatever the message that was supposed to be from this episode is completely lost on me because all I see is a miserable rich old miser who hates letting kids have fun and won't help someone in need. Absolute garbage episode. I really wish they had instead just followed up on The Last Christmas. Or had some kind of family centric episode at least! I seriously fucking hate this episode so much. I would legit erase this episode if I could it is the WORST.

The Lost Cargo of Kit Cloudkicker

Nit pick again. Didn't love what they did with Kit. Okay I get the idea he grew up to idolize Baloo so he turned out more like him. It...wasn't great. Didn't like that much at all. Felt like they just tried to shove Kit into a DT87/DWD Launchpad mold. I didn't love that Baloo and Kit's relationship was mentioned weirdly casually? Like Kit called himself Baloo's sidekick??? Except in Talespin Kit calls him Papa Bear??? Also great, got another tag to block from this episode, the delkit ship. Not a fan, thanks.

Kinda weird for me with this episode I didn't really catch the meaning of it. To me it felt like the message was "defy expectations...by meeting them." It didn't really click and I kinda hated it for that plus the weird characterization of Kit. Actually I was on Twitter and someone was complaining about this episode and I responded in agreement and then FRANK REPLIED TO US 😅😅😅. Frank explained that the point was more of "if you're good at something, don't give it up" rather than "you can do anything you set your mind to" type message that appears a lot in kids media. (Also Frank please don't look at me when I'm criticizing the show 😂😂😂😂😭 I promise overall I do love it I'm just a loud mouth when I don't like something some times 😅)

After Frank explained that it did click a little better and I can see the message a bit more clearly. But I'm still not really in love with this episode like I wanted to be. I freaking love Talespin so that was a bummer. But as I've said a dozen times. I'm mostly nit picking my personal opinion.

The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck

Another one I wanted to like more than I actually did. And mostly this boils down to Louie having to apologize to Doofus when Doofus is the one who's like some wild sociopath or something. I get it Louie hasn't been completely innocent towards Doofus. He did try to use him and con him but Doofus flat out has tried to hold him captive and torture and even kill him. Doofus' sins outweigh Louie's. Louie having to apologize to prevent the tension and all just...feels like victim blaming? This one is harder for me to describe why I don't like it and I think others have explained it better than me. I think it could have been better if Louie AND Doofus both apologized and agreed to start over and let what happened between them before be water under the bridge. At least this way they're equals? Maybe it wouldn't have been the best fix but I feel it would have been better than Canon. This one I don't want to call a nit pick. This one feels like there is something fundamentally wrong with it but I struggle to explain. Mostly other than that though I think the episode was fine. A little weird that the karma court scale needed to be told the villains hearts rather than able to just know them (mostly looking at the Ma Beagle one here) but that part is more nit pick.

And finally...The Last Adventure

I have things I love about it. The individual character moments. The references and call backs. The music. This finale was clearly made with love and care.

But that damn Webby clone daughter thing twist changes things. I know some people say it doesn't but to me it does! I feel it messed with the family dynamic and the characters in a needless way. I feel it didn't add anything to but rather did take away from. I don't wanna say too much on it as there's already been so much talk on it so in keeping it brief- not a fan, didn't like, why the hell, no.

The thing with Bradford kinda threw me off too. His logic and insistence on not being a villain made him so interesting. He was truly a villain to rival Scrooge. Then in my opinion he was pushed into a weird middle ground. He didn't feel like he completely abandoned what he previously stood on but also didn't go full villain either? I get a villain like Bradford isn't easy. The writers have to truly bring their all for someone like him. But Bradford suddenly getting armor and the Split Sword and becoming a battling giant was kinda ????? inducing. Threw me for a bit of a loop. I probably need to watch this episode a few more times before I finally settle on where I sit with the Bradford thing but at least at this time I just feel kinda mixed on it. Maybe I missed something there.

Other nit picks from the finale. Donald's writing was a little weird, he sounded like he was going on vacation but then Della said he was moving out and Donald talked like "well you have the boys and Uncle Scrooge..." it just really sounds like he's leaving the family?????????? Especially at a time like this? Rude! I mean yes somebody please get this man a vacation but the writing here left me kinda confused and there is no reason Donald would ever just leave and act like "oh well their mom is back so my work here is done." Nope. DADnald for life.

Lena and Webby never getting shown to have made up after their fight. I imagine the giving June and May the friendship bracelets kinda implies it but come on. Even just a hug would have been good. Also...why are they giving up their friendship bracelets??? Confused, not a fan.

And also...in addition to the Clone twist, I really don't love that April, May, and June were all clones instead of Daisy's nieces. I really wanted to get to see them in the show and now I just feel like thanks I hate it! I admire the guts to make a twist like this and all but I really hate it.

Overall please let me say I LOVE Ducktales. The show as a whole to me is a huge important thing I love. This isn't an attack on anyone who likes these episodes. I am just once again being loud and obnoxious with my own opinions and nit picks and things I just would have liked to see or not see.

no idea if any of this rambling answers your question Anon but here you go. Hope it works.

[pebblysand]

It’s me again! You gave such a thorough reply that I wanted to first say thank you and second elaborate on devastating and maybe also expound on why i love castles so much.

So honestly what i most appreciate in post-dh hp fanfics is the exploration of what happens after the war- particularly the trauma and healing process. I’ll be frank in that I’m probably projecting my own mental health issues but that’s neither here nor there.

Castles strikes me as particularly interesting and unique because it delves into Ginny’s trauma from the war as much as Harry’s. Very often in other post-dh fics we see that Ginny is the stable one, she is Harry’s anchor, they show her understanding and forgiving him without question. Which I understand and love but your fic sheds a new light on other possibilities. When I say devastating i mean the internal turmoil, the truth that recovery and healing and growth are agonizing processes. (This is me projecting again, that last three years have been A Lot). And i really appreciate that, personally and narratively. The ordeal of healing and healing alongside people you love and at the same time hurting and being hurt by those same people, and the harsh reality that none of this is linear is something that I just find so compelling in your writing.

Man that’s the most coherent I’ve been in a review in AGES - not just feral screaming. Needless to say, I am very very excited for your update and I will literally wait however long it takes, because you can’t rush genius.

Aw thank you so much for your kind words. I'm glad this fic is resonating with you. This is going to be long, so buckle up under the cut.

Thanks again for what you've said, I truly appreciate it. Without blowing my own horn too much, I will say that castles does seem to "speak" in that way to a lot of people in terms of trauma and healing, which as a writer is immensely flattering. I think as authors, all we ever want to do (or at least all I've ever wanted to do) is to write things that are faithful to human emotions and human experiences (as Sally Rooney puts it, we want to write books about "people"). When we get that right that's honestly the most rewarding thing in the world.

To tell you the truth, though, I never really set out to write about that. To give you a little bit of backstory on Castles, it's a story that's been more of less brewing in my head since I was 14 years old, which is when DH came out. I remember sitting there at the end of it and even then I couldn't stop thinking about the 'what now?' question. Obviously there is the epilogue (and I will come back to that in a bit) but I always had a question mark drawn on the direct aftermath of the battle. I think most HP fans have their own little corner of obsession, right? Like, some people are obsessed with Marauders, some with Next-Gen, some with the Death Eater side of the fight. The Post-War world has always been mine.

I believe that the reason for that, as much as I hate to admit it, is that as humans, when something bad happens to us, we have a very easy way out: death. I'm obviously not trying to encourage anyone out here to kill themselves and if anyone who reads this is having thoughts along this line, please seek help, but the truth of the matter is that in the human experience, death is always a possibility. We could choose it, embrace it, and end our own suffering. Yet, like Harry at the end of DH, most of us don't. For the most part, we tend to hang onto to life. Because, truth be told, it's full and wonderful and deserves to be lived, despite the fact that, objectively speaking, it's bloody hard. And, as a writer, that's the space I want to be in. I want to understand and describe why we make that choice, every day, to get up and carry on, rather than giving up. I find that absolutely fascinating. I'm not a writer for the sensational stuff (some people do that much better than me), I want to write the quiet and the silence and the dirt and the blood that's dried and the grief and the powering through and the not giving up. To me, choosing life despite trauma is the epitome of bravery which, as a Gryffindor, is probably the character trait I value most in people.

Obviously, from a narrative perspective, this interest of mine lands itself to a post-war exploration very well. There's an old interview of JKR where she says she insisted on the epilogue being included at the end of book seven (even though she knew it was going to piss people off) because she wanted to show that they made it through. That, as I put it in Castles, 'They lived, for better or for worse.' And, in that interview, she talks more specifically about soldiers and PTSD, and says that 'getting over that kind of war, that's the hard part.' I remember watching that interview and thinking: yes, exactly. And, that's the thing about the epilogue. It's not so much about the content of it, the who-ends-up-with-who rather than the symbolism of it. It's not only about the fact that they fought in a war and won it, it's about the fact that they fought another war afterwards, a quiet one with the world they were trying to rebuild, along with rebuilding themselves, and they won that one, too. It's about showing that bravery isn't always this sparkling, flashy thing. It's also overcoming the silences and the grief and the struggles and making it to the other side.

And, so, yeah, I suppose that leads me to write about trauma. Although that isn't the initial endeavour, it's certainly part of it. And as you pointed out yourself, that road is full of ups and downs because "living" is fucking fantastic, but it's also fucking hard. I find the phrasing you used about Ginny typically being the "stable" one in other fics particularly interesting. I'd never thought about it that way, but I see what you mean. And, the thing with Castles is: none of them (and I mean H & G but also Ron, Hermione - hell even Kingsley) are particularly stable or unstable. To me, they just are. They exist and they live and they try to put one foot in front of the next the best way they can, with very little sense of plan or strategy. They sort of make do, which to me is the only realistic way I can envision the post-war world. They're kids who've just lived through the apocalypse. It's unrealistic to me that any of them would hold all of the answers, or even come close to having their shit together.

To me, it was and is very important to show all sides of that spectrum. Although they likely all wouldn't have suffered from acute PTSD, they would certainly all have struggled with something. Not everyone deals with everything the same way, and I want to show feelings of guilt, and bravery, and confusion, and fear, and determination which are all as unique as the individuals who experience them. I also wanted to show that not everything has a clear-cut explanation for it. For example, when Ginny breaks up with Harry in chap3, she says some truly horrible things. But, what she does say is also the one percent of everything that lies under the surface. She says she breaks up with him for Reason A but it's actually Reason A. 1, A.2, B, C, D, etc. Because, truth be told, that is what happens in life. People rarely give you a neat little list of all the reasons they do something, especially if, again, they've just lived through something huge. Often, you only truly find out the real reasons for people's actions months later, and often, that's because they themselves don't even know, haven't made sense of it in their heads. So, of course, I think it's incredibly important to write all of them as going through something, because to me anything else would be deeply unrealistic.

And, truth be told, I've thought about this extensively every time I've re-read the books in the past. Throughout the years, I started countless drafts on this topic, which I often gave up and left unfinished, until now. I think what motivated me this time is honestly the pandemic. I re-read the books during the first lockdown, then set out to find The Perfect Fanfiction which would deal with all of that. I'd never been in the Potter fandom before and thought to myself: 'there's like a million fics in that fandom, someone must have written this.' And, to this day, I still sort of believe that? Like, I've had a lot of comments in the past year telling me that they like or dislike Castles because it has a unique "tone" and a unique "mood" as well as themes but I'm always like "really? someone else must have written this," haha. But, despite spending a lot of time looking, I never found it so I suppose that's when I decided to write it, haha.

And, here we are, lol.

[master-sass-blast]

Salt of the Earth

Well. Hello. Welcome to my salt.

So, this is a fic that definitely fits into the series and everything, but it is also a direct byproduct of my salt at Netflix cancelling “The Punisher.”

It’ll make sense once you read the fic.

Rated T for: Multiple injuries, car accident (singular), kidnapping, mentions of child abuse, and just angst in general.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader (and kinda sorta Frank Castle x Karen Page; it’s not outright stated, but it’s very strongly implied that they like each other).

Song lyrics are from “Zombie” by Bad Wolves; bible verse is Matt. 5:13.

@marvel-is-perfection

“It’s the same o-ld thing/ in 2018/ In your head/ in your head/ they are dying…”

You sing along with the music blaring through the store speakers under your breath as you glare at the stack of sketchbooks sitting on the shelf in front of you. You’re at an art store in the small town area Piotr likes going to for outings –the very same place the two of you had your first date, in fact—and you’re trying to pick out a good birthday gift for your dearly beloved boyfriend.

 Because Piotr is, without a doubt, the world’s most fantastic boyfriend, and you are not about to be shown up by your own partner.

 You know, not to mention the fact that you want to get him something good. Something he’ll like.

 So, first step. Art store. Always a good place to start, considering that Piotr is an artist and loves getting any art related gifts.

 And, bonus! You can get there legally, without Piotr’s help, because you have a driver’s license! One hundred percent legally obtained! Go you!

 The money in your bank account that will be used to buy the gift/gifts isn’t legally obtained, because it’s a mix of funds from Wade and your uncle, but the cashier isn’t going to know that and you know Piotr isn’t going to berate you for it because he understands that your situation’s a little –a lot—fucked up to begin with.

 Anyway. Back to the point

 You’ve made it to the art store. You are currently in the art store. You are exactly where you need to be –which, if it wasn’t clear, is the art store.

 Unfortunately, there are no steps after “get to the art store” because you have no idea what you’re doing.

 Yes, you do art; you’re not on Piotr’s level, but you hold your own –and, dare you say it, but you’re improving!

 But Piotr’s always handled the ‘supply buying,’ as it were, and now that you’re staring down what seems like thousands of options, you’re completely lost at sea.

 Okay, you tell yourself. Think. What does he need replaced?

 Pens. He’s always burning through pens –and erasers, come to think of it—with how regularly he uses them.

 You smile to yourself as you dart over to the proper aisle. I’m gonna own the fuck out of this.

Once you get your footing, you nail the shopping session. You’re gonna have to hide the receipt from Piotr because you definitely went a little nuts, but he deserves and you have more than enough money so why not?

You hum happily along to the pop song of the moment as you drive back to the mansion, gifts safely tucked in the shotgun seat of your car. You’re flying down the highway –not literally, in the sense that you can actually fly or the sense that you’d be speeding—and—

 There’s not a single other car in sight.

 And that’s… a little weird. It’s early afternoon on a weekend. You’d think you’d see more travelers on the road.

 Before you have too much time to overthink it, a massive black SUV comes up on your tail out of nowhere.

 You yelp and lay on the horn when it rams into your bumper. “What the fuck, asshole?” You wrench the wheel, trying to stay on the road, and press the gas pedal down harder.

 The SUV keeps pace with you, barely keeping off your back bumper as it tails you down the empty road.

 You honk again and shift into the other lane before slowing down.

 The SUV simply speeds ahead –and spins so that it’s sitting across both lanes of the highway, right in your path.

 You shriek as you stomp on the brakes, but it’s too little, too late.

 Your car slams into the side of the SUV, and everything goes dark.

The first thing you register is pain. So much of it, everywhere. Your head feels like it’s been put in a vice until it cracked, and your ribs ache with every breath you take.

The second thing you register is that you’re laying on your side in some sort of cramped, stuffy compartment. You can’t sit up, can’t really even move without bumping into a barrier of some sort.

 The third thing you register is that whatever you’re in is moving.

 Oh, dear sweet Cthulhu have mercy, I’m in the trunk of a car. You groan as you check your pockets for your phone and swear when you come up empty handed. “Shit! Okay, taillight. Find one of the taillights.”

It takes forever, between the pain you’re in and the cramped quarters, but you manage to find one of the taillights. You rip the carpet covering it away, then use your powers to punch it out.

You’re in a city, which is better then being on some backroad in the middle of the woods. City means people, which means phones, which means you’ve got a shot at calling someone and getting back to the X-Mansion. You suck in the fresh night air –you’ve been out for a while, which isn’t good—and try to formulate some sort of a plan. Maybe they’ll hit a light soon, and then I can break the hood open and get out—

The sound of tires screeching fills the air, followed by a heavy burst of gunfire.

You suck air through your teeth –part in surprise, part in pain—as the car comes to an abrupt stop.

“The fuck was that?” one of your abductor’s voices shouts from the cabin of the car, muffled but extremely pissed off.

You know about as much as they do, it would seem, and while you’re not fond of getting out of the car while there’s active gunfire, you know you’re not gonna get a better chance.

You slam the hood of the car open, sending it flying into the air, and bolt for the nearest alley before your kidnappers can react. You barely make it two feet into the shadows before you collapse against a wall, head spinning with blinding pain. Fuck. I think some of my ribs are broken. You pant and gasp through the waves of agony, trying to keep from vomiting.

“Where’d she go?”

“She won’t have gotten far. Find her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuckfuckuckfuck—

You grit your teeth and fly up to the nearest roof top. You do actually vomit –and almost pass out in it—once your feet hit the flat, paved surface. You collapse to your knees, arms shaking, and groan as you force yourself to your feet. Push through it. Come on. You need to find a way to call Piotr.

You manage to run across the roof top, away from the sounds of your kidnappers’ voices, tears stinging your eyes at every jolt your body takes. You round a corner, hoping to find some sort of door inside—

You run into a black clad figure –literally, full body contact and everything—and scream as the two of you go down together. Adrenaline surges through your system, and you lash out at the person wildly.

“Woah –woah! Hey!”

You stop with a gasp when you see Frank Castle’s face –a little bruised and bloody, but not too much worse for wear considering his line of work—staring down at you. You groan and go limp. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

“The fuck happened to you?” he grunts as he scans your various injuries.

“Car crash. Kidnapped.” You wince. “You know, the usual.” You flinch when you hear the voices of your abductors shouting –they’re getting closer—and shoot Frank a desperate look. “I need help. Please. I lost my phone, I can’t call anyone for help—”

He pulls you to your feet and hooks one of your arms over his shoulders so he can support some of your weight. “I’ve got a van in an alley nearby. Let’s go.”

You do your best to keep pace with him and look over your shoulder jerkily when you hear more gunfire. “The fuck is that?”

“I made some friends,” he grunts as he guides you across the dark rooftop. “Left.”

“Sure sounds like it.” Gunfire pierces the air again –closer, you’re both being closed in on—and you shift your arm so that it’s around his waist and squeeze him against you as much as you can. “Which way’s the alley?”

“West, two blocks –Christ!”

If you were feeling better, you’d smirk at Frank’s exclamation when you launch the two of you into the air. As it is, you grimace and focus on not crashing into anything or dropping your only ticket out of here –here being Hell’s Kitchen, apparently.

You manage to find said alley and van –both of which could be charitably described as ‘creepy looking.’ You and Frank tumble to the cracked pavement, and then you’re retching against the dirty asphalt like a cat trying to hock up the biggest hairball of its life.

Frank gets you up on your feet an into the passenger side of the van in a matter of seconds. He mumbles an apology as he buckles you in, then gets into the driver’s side equally as fast and starts the engine.

“I’m gonna apologize in advance,” you gasp. “In case I throw up in your van.”

Frank makes the grunt equivalent of a shrug as he peels out of the alleyway. “Not the worst thing it’s seen.” 

He stops behind a massive apartment building about fifteen minutes later, cutting the engine as he unbuckles himself and opens the door. 

“What’re we doing?” you mumble. Now that you’re sitting down and not actively working on getting away from your kidnappers, exhaustion’s setting in. Fast.

“Can’t use my car to get’cha where you need to go,” Frank explains as he unbuckles you and half-drags, half-scoops you out of your seat. “We’ll need to borrow a ride. That, and you need some first aid for your head faster than you need a ride home.”

You frown as you touch your head, then blink when your hand comes away red and sticky. “Oh. Party.”

Frank chuckles as helps you stagger towards the fire escape. “Always is.”

“Wait, you’re gonna make me fucking climb all that?”

“Guy like me can’t exactly use the front door.”

“How high up are we going?”

“Floor fourteen.”

You give him a flat look. “I hate you.”

He chuckles again. “That how you thank all your rescuers?”

“It is if they make me climb up fourteen floors after going through a car accident.”

“Suppose that’s fair.”

You wince as you hook your arm around his waist again. “You’re gonna have to count; I need to focus on not dropping us.”

You manage to get up to the correct floor without dropping Frank once. He does, though, have to practically drag you to the right window. You whimper as he sets you down and taps on the glass pane.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hang in there.”

You can hear movement inside the apartment, and then the window opens.

A slim woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and wide blue eyes gives the two of you a horrified look. “Frank –what the fuck?”

He jerks his head at you. “She needs help.”

You stick out your hand –it’s not like you’ve got any better options. “I’m Y/N.”

Karen shakes your hand before backing away from the window so Frank can lift you inside. “I’m Karen Page. Let me grab my first aid kit.”

“I’ve got it,” Frank says as he shuts the window. “She needs a phone to call her boyfriend.”

“I lost mine in the car crash.”

It says something about Karen that she doesn’t even blink at your comment. Instead, she digs her phone out of her purse, unlocks it, and hands it you. “Here.”

“Sorry if I bleed on it,” you mumble as you dial Piotr’s number –you mentally thank your uncle for making you memorize phone numbers from an early age on—and try to avoid smearing Karen’s phone with blood as you lift the speaker end to your ear.

“It’s fine.” Karen nods in the direction that Frank went. “I guarantee you he’s done worse.”

The phone rings a few times before Piotr picks up. “Ya sluchu vas.”

You start crying; after the day you’ve had, hearing his voice is the best damn thing in the world. “Piotr?”

His reaction is immediate, relief so evident in his voice you can practically see the expression on his face. “Y/N, where are you? I have been trying to reach you all day—”

“I got in a car crash; some chickenshits tried to run me off the road, and then they threw me in the trunk of a car, and—”

“What? Slow down. Wait, are you safe? Where are you?”

You groan as Frank and Karen help you sit on her couch, then laugh when you realize how fucking ridiculous the story you’re about to tell is gonna sound. “Yeah. You’re not gonna believe who I ran into.”

Frank takes over the phone once you’ve recapped everything for Piotr and reassured your darling boyfriend that, yes, you’re as okay as you can be and you’re in a safe place; he works out the details of how you’re getting back to the mansion while Karen works on getting you relatively cleaned and patched up. 

And Karen, to her credit, doesn’t seem all that alarmed by your –or Frank’s, for that matter—injuries. Concerned, yes, and maybe a little strained, but not scared.

She smiles weakly when you remark as much. “Yeah, well, you can’t really let all this freak you out to much if you associate with him.” She nods at Frank again.

“I didn’t think the Punisher had associates,” you mumble as she applies another bandage to what seemed to be a nasty cut on your forehead, if Frank’s and Karen’s reactions were anything to go by.

She huffs out a laugh at that. “I didn’t either, until I realized that I was one of them.”

“Yeah… yeah. No, we’ll get ‘er to you. Probably safer that way… nah, I’m sure. We’ll finish getting ‘er stable, and then I’ll drive her out. See you in a bit, Rasputin.”

You peer up at Frank as he ends the call and hands the phone back to Karen. “How’re we getting out of here?”

“I’ll drive you back once you’re patched up.”

Karen snorts and gives him an incredulous look. “I don’t remember saying you could ‘borrow’ my car. Again.”

“I’ve got a ride—”

“What, your murder van?”

You giggle; it’s an apt description, really.

The corner of Frank’s mouth turns up –and holy shit the Punisher is actually smiling. “What’s wrong with it? It’s got four wheels, it drives, it brakes, it steers. What more do you want?”

“Upholstery that doesn’t have bloodstains on them?”

“Aw, c’mon. It adds character.”

And, even with your probable concussion, you can tell that Frank and Karen are flirting. Hardcore flirting, even.

And that’s… interesting. You knew that Karen had to be someone that Frank trusted to even go to her in the first place, but you hadn’t banked on him liking her, too.

“Frank, you won’t be in Hell’s Kitchen. If you drive Y/N to the X-Mansion in your murder van, people are going to call the police. We’ll take my car.”

“‘We?’”

Karen shoots him a defiant look. “You aren’t ‘borrowing’ my car again, Frank.” She moves out of the way so he can take over your ‘patching up’ and disappear somewhere out of your field of vision.

Frank crouches in front of the couch, still grinning as he rifles through Karen’s first aid kit. He pauses for a minute –and you recognize the look on his face as the ‘I’m about to be a little shit’ expression, which you’ve learned to identify from spending so much time with Wade—then says “Technically, I didn’t borrow it the first time.”

“Not helping your argument, Castle.”

You bite back a smirk as Frank huffs out something that, on another person, might be a chuckle. Very interesting.

Once Frank declares that you’re unlikely to bleed on the interior of Karen’s car, she and Frank help you down to the parking garage of her apartment building. Frank crawls into the back with you –to make sure you don’t fall asleep, given your probable concussion and whatnot—while Karen gets into the driver’s seat and turns the car on. 

You wince as you try to sit in a way that doesn’t hurt, then give up on it and settle for letting your head rest against the car door. 

You’re tired. Now that you’re not running for your life or in the warm glow of Karen’s apartment, all you can process –feel—is your exhaustion. You haven’t eaten since breakfast, you’re uncomfortable, and every single tiny move you make hurts.

You are, however, wearing one of Frank’s hoodies; Karen had produced it from somewhere in her apartment –add that to the list of interesting details about whatever dynamic Frank Castle and Karen Page have going on—and wrapped you in it to hide the worst of your injuries from any passersby. It’s ridiculously soft, funnily enough, and is only adding to the exhaustion weighing down on you. You nestle yourself in as much as you can to the back seat of Karen’s car and make to close your eyes.

“Hey. Hey, hey! Do not fall asleep right now!” Frank grabs your hand and squeezes hard enough to be uncomfortable. “Keep your eyes open, you hear me?”

“Fuck you, I’m tired,” you whine. You open your eyes anyway.

“How’d you end up running into Frank?” Karen asks from the front seat as she carefully navigates out of Hell’s Kitchen. “You said something about crashing your car?”

“I didn’t crash my car,” you grouse. “Some assholes pulled out in front of me on a highway and stopped.”

“And no one called the police? Or an ambulance?”

“I’m pretty sure it was all planned ahead of time. The highway was dead empty just before it happened.”

The car goes silent for a moment, and then Karen says in a voice that’s just a little too steady “I knew working with the X-Men could be dangerous, but I didn’t think things were that crazy.”

“I don’t think it had anything to do with them,” you admit. “I’m not really an X-Man, either.”

“But you live at the mansion. And you’re a mutant.”

“I am, but being at the mansion is more for my own safety,” you say with a bitter laugh. “I, uh, grew up in an anti-mutant home. Left once I figured out there was a place that would accept me.”

“You think it had something to do with your parents?” Frank asks.

“I mean, they’ve sent bounty hunters after me before,” you grumble. “It’s not like it’d be the first time.”

Frank tenses next to you. “Who are you parents, ‘xactly?”

You don’t have to guess about why he’s suddenly so uptight. This is the man that spends his life gunning down gangs and crime families and other scums of the Earth; if you were him, you’d be worried about what sort of shit the person you randomly helped save might drag into your life—

Or the life of someone like Karen Page.

If there’s really something going on there, you muse, he’s gonna be protective of her. “They’re no one. Just a couple of assholes who didn’t want their kid when she was growing up, but now that’s she gone they’ve figured out they don’t want anyone else having her either, much less for her to have a life where she’s happy.” Tears start stinging your eyes, and then they’re trickling down your cheeks as you start crying. “They used to lock me in my room –my dad would beat with a belt when I had trouble controlling my mutation—” You choke back a sob, then pain racks through your body from the movement jarring your ribs.

There’s the click of a seatbelt unbuckling, and then Frank’s sliding over so he’s next to you, holding your shoulders steady so you don’t jerk yourself around unnecessarily. “Hey, hey. Deep breaths. Easy.”

“I can’t ‘breathe deep,’ asshole,” you say with a choked laugh. “Ow.”

“Is abuse really all that common towards mutants?” Karen asks from the front seat. “Not that I don’t believe you or believe it happens, it’s just… disheartening to think about.”

“Unfortunately, it is,” you say as Frank slides back to his seat and buckles himself in; you’ve calmed down again, which means you don’t need to be restrained. “There’s obviously the good families, but we’re kind of scum to society. Freakish abominations.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with you,” Karen insists. “You’re just people.”

You let out a dark laugh. “Tell that to the founders of Harmony.”

Frank’s eyes are on you again. “What?”

“An anti-mutant settlement about an hour from Xavier’s. They actively kill any mutants they can get their hands on; they’ve got a compound out in the middle of the woods where they do it.” You go quiet for a moment. “They would’ve killed Piotr, if we hadn’t rescued him.”

“I didn’t realize things were that bad,” Karen says softly after a moment. “How are people even getting away with that shit?”

“How do people get away with committing atrocities anywhere? They think they have a right to hurt people, and others agree with them. Unfortunately for us, the ‘others’ who agree with them happen to be the people in power.”

The car goes silent again, and something tells you that the wheels in Karen’s head are turning. You don’t know her that well –don’t know her at all, really—but something tells you that the woman that Frank Castle is –seemingly—interested in isn’t the type to roll over all that easy.

Then, Karen clears her throat. “Who’s Piotr?”

You smile softly. “He’s my boyfriend. He’s the one I called at your apartment. I was actually out getting him some presents for his birthday today.”

“That’s sweet. What were you getting him?”

“Art supplies. He’s an artist, so I like to help keep him stocked up.” You blink owlishly when you realize that the bags with everything you’d bought are probably still in the wreckage formerly known as you car. “I’m gonna have to rerun that errand. Right after I get a new ride.”

“It’ll all work out,” Karen reassures you. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Uh…” You try to figure it out, even going as far as to count it out on your fingers—

“She’s concussed, Karen. Maybe don’t make her do math,” Frank says with a chuckle.

“It’s been longer than a year,” you add. “Definitely longer than a year.” You think for a moment, then let out a soft laugh. “Y’know, I never thought I’d find anyone. I grew up thinking I was unlovable.”

“Anyone can be loved,” Karen says.

If it were any other situation, you’d write it off as a supportive statement.

But Karen’s voice is just a little too pointed, a little too intentional, and Frank suddenly gets very interested in staring at his shoes.

Probable concussion or not, you know you’re not seeing things. But, there’s nothing you can do or say now that won’t make things awkward, so you tuck it all away for later, for when you can dish it all out to Ellie, Wade, and Yukio to get their opinions on it all –which, to be clear, you’ll only do because you know they’d never blab about it.

But yeah, later. Right now, all you want to do is get back home to Piotr.

Karen keeps you talking for the rest of the ride, asking questions about Piotr and your new life at Xavier’s until she pulls up the gravel drive of Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters.

The front door opens before Karen even puts the car into park and then Piotr’s sprinting out towards you, followed by a couple of healers.

Frank gets out and directs him to the side where you’re sat—

And then the door’s opening, and Piotr’s there next to you, and you’re both crying.

A couple that cries together, stays together. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

Frank helps Piotr unbuckle and get you out of the car, and then you’re being made to lay down on a stretcher by one very blue, very furry Dr. Hank McCoy.

“Hey, doc,” you manage. “How bad do I look?” 

“I’ve seen worse,” he says with a small smile. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

You can breathe without your ribs hurting.

It’s the small things in life, really.

Lucky for you, aside from the fractured ribs –and the concussion; you did, in fact, have a concussion—there weren’t any other major injuries. The healers fix you up, Hank checks you over, and then you’re being discharged with a meager amount of painkillers to help with the stiffness and soreness that’ll linger for the next few days.

It could’ve been worse. It could’ve been so much worse.

Piotr sticks by your side for all of it; he holds your hand, lets you squeeze his when you need to, and offers encouragement when he can.

Hank leaves so Piotr can help you get dressed in clean clothes, and you start crying as soon as the door closes.

Piotr’s by your side in an instant –not that he had wandered far from it in the first place. “Moya lyubov’, what is it? What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

You mash your face against his shoulder and sob. “I’m sorry –I’m sorry that I didn’t call, and that I worried you, and that—”

He’s quick to shush you, gentle and loving as he rubs soothing circles on your back with his hands. “Nyet, nyet, nyet. This was not your fault, myshka.” He kisses the top of your head. “Let’s get you dressed, and then let’s get you food. Da?”

You sniff loudly and nod. “Yeah, okay.”

He kisses each of your eyelids. “What sounds good?”

“I want a burger. With fries.”

He chuckles and kisses the bridge of your nose. “Khorosho.”

“A lot of fries. Like, a metric ton of fries.”

He laughs again and helps you start changing out of your shirt. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Karen and Frank, surprisingly enough, are still around when Piotr walks you over to the main side of the Institute. Karen’s talking to Professor Xavier while taking notes in a little notebook, while Frank just generally looks uncomfortable and seems to be set on finding the best places to stand that’ll draw the least amount of attention to him. 

He also looks a lot better, too, which means the healers must’ve gotten a hold of him.

Good.

Karen looks shocked when she sees you. “Oh, wow. I didn’t think you’d be walking at all.”

“I’ve always bounced back quick,” you say with a shrug. “But having healers that can literally make your wounds close themselves by touching you doesn’t hurt things either.”

She nods. “Yeah, I bet they don’t.”

Frank rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifts in a grin anyway.

You manage to make eye contact with him –no small feat, since he seems hellbent on memorizing the grain of the wood flooring—and nod in greeting. “Thanks for helping me out.”

He nods back. “Any time.”

“You guys alright? You need anything to eat?” You point in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m gonna have a burger—”

“Actually, we should probably head out,” Karen says. “I’ve got work tomorrow, and I still have an article that I need to wrap up before morning hits.”

The relief on Frank’s face at being given an out is palpable, so you drop it. “Alright. It was nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me bleed on your couch.”

Karen laughs and nods. “No problem. It’s definitely not the worst thing that couch has ever seen. Hopefully, if we run into each other again, it’ll be under better circumstances with less blood involved.”

“We can always hope.” As you watch them leave, an old memory flashes into your mind’s eye:

“You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has become tasteless, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled under foot by men.”

Normally, any memories from your childhood are liable to send you reeling –especially any that connect to the countless times you were dragged into your town’s church and told, over and over, how you were a perversion of God’s creation.

But now, instead of panicking, you can’t help but regard Frank and Karen in quiet contemplation as they walk out the front door of Xavier’s; the two people that, without really knowing you or having any investment in your wellbeing past the general goodwill that decent humans possessed, had spent the past couple of hours helping you get to safety.

After a life of being beaten down –specifically by non-mutants—it’s an interesting turnabout.

You smile to yourself, just a little, as you watch Frank open the door for Karen and usher her out into the night. Salt of the earth indeed.

You wind up on the couch, nestled against Piotr’s side, happily munching on your burger while the two of you watch old Mythbusters reruns. 

(You did, in fact, get a small mountain of fries –and decent servings of fruit and vegetables, because Piotr made your plate for you.)

“How are you feeling?” he asks, voice soft as he kisses the top of your head.

“Sore. Tired. Hungry.” You set your burger down. “I’m gonna need a new phone. I lost mine in the crash.”

He rubs a hand up and down your back. “We’ll get it figured out.”

“I’m gonna need a new car, too. And to replace everything in my purse.”

He wraps his arms around you as you start shaking and presses his lips against your shoulder. “Breathe, myshka. Everything will be taken care of.”

Your lower lip trembles and you squeeze your eyes shut. “I had presents for your birthday picked out and everything. I lost those, too.”

He kisses your temple, then your forehead. “I would rather have you than presents.”

“Yeah, I get it, I just—” You sniffle and rub your hands over your face. “I’m just upset about it. I get it’s not even that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, but I still just—”

He gently settles you in his lap when you start crying and rocks you back and forth. “It is okay to be upset. You had upsetting day.”

“I was just really happy with what I picked out, and now I’m not gonna be able to leave the mansion again until we figure out who went after me and why, and I really just want to be able to buy you a birthday gift, dammit.”

“I am very flattered, myshka, but trust me when I say it does not matter to me. I will not be hurt if you cannot get me gifts.”

“I know, but it matters to me.”

He goes quiet at that, opting to just hold you and rock you back and forth while you cry.

It’s been a shit day. Your car was totaled, you were kidnapped after being forced into an accident, you had to spend over an hour in the medical bay at the mansion to get your ribs patched up, and now you’re down a phone, an ID and debit card, a car, and your gifts for Piotr.

You know that you’re lucky. That things could be much, much worse. That if you hadn’t run into Frank on that rooftop, you’d probably be in the trunk of another car right now.

You’re alive, you’re healed, and you’re back with Piotr. You’ve got a lot to be grateful for.

And, in the morning, you will be grateful for it.

But it’s been a shit day, and right now all you want to do is cry over the fact that you can’t buy your boyfriend a damn replacement birthday present.

So that’s what you do. You’ve earned it.

Crying’s healthy, anyway.

[something-tofightfor]

The Punisher Season 2: Episodes 11-13

Initial reactions as I watched these episodes.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. I literally tagged it four different ways for spoilers so if you read them after this it’s your own damn fault. 

11: The Abyss Frank covered in blood and nearly dead and handcuffed.... stop me if you’ve heard this before Two person rescue mission at the hospital Amy seems concerned. Curtis is about done with Frank’s shit John. I think your wife is dead...nevermind. She is dead. Yikes. So this is all for nothing. FUCKING KAREN KAREN Karen is fucking heeeeeeeere K A R E N SHE IS NOT LETTING ANYONE KEEP HER FROM FRANK IVE BEEN WAITING THIS IS ALL IN CAPS BUT HOLY HELL THIS IS EVERYTHING But what the fuck is she wearing a cape LOOK AT HER FRANK how do you feel about him Karen FUCKING SAY IT SAY IT YOU GODDAMN ASSHOLES JUST FUCKING ADMIT IT Madani is so obsessed with this. I don’t think frank killed those women. I think they were already dead and billy had a plan to make him think that he did. And it’s working IM SO SICK OF THESE DEAD WIFE FLASHBACKS THEYRE HOLDING HANDS I REPEAT HOLDING HANDS All frank wanted was a family and to be done... my heart is aching. Frank talking about his kids oh my god Straight into “i would have killed anything that got in my way” Lmfao everyone is in this room - WHAT THE FUUUUUUUCK RING RING ITS BILLY FUCK OFF KRISTA what I’m trying to figure out is why Krista is helping him - what is her motive? I was right. Frank didn’t kill them. I’m going to blame it all on this bitch because I don’t like her. She keeps saying “for us”... what is this us? Doesn’t she understand that Billy won’t leave? He wants the things that he’s worked for... not just her... or maybe not her at all. He says she makes him happy... but I don’t buy it. She’s saying all of the right things... but she doesn’t mean them. This.... im.... just... hmm. Time is running out for Billy to redeem himself. Ed is my favorite character. HERE COMES THE KRISTA BACK STORY spill all the details now because i hate you you dumb bitch BILLY DID NOT SAY US. He said we- but not us. NO NO NO NO you don’t love him. YEAH BITCH WHO WAS KM oh shit she has daddy issues. Everything makes sense now. Her father tried to kill her and threw her out a goddamn window... ok. So she fucking becomes a therapist and bangs her patient to get closure from the fact that her father tried to kill her. .................. Jesus Martha Kent, calm down. This dude is bad news. God at least take a selfie with frank AMY HOLY HELL LISTEN TO KAREN OH MY GOD HERE IT COMES DAMN STRAIGHT SHE WILL THROW EVERYTHING AWAY FOR YOU FRANK CASTLE “you cannot keep loving people in your dreams” FUCK OFF AMY JESUS CHRIST FUCK ALL THE FUCKING WAY OFF YOU DUMB LITTLE BRAT Frank castle in full police uniform FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF all he wanted were her shoes 🤣 oh, Ed Goddammit Brett

12: Collision Course Brett is a shit driver Another Manson song... hmmmmmmmm Oh yikes that’s an ambulance crash if I’ve ever seen one Brett doesn’t look so good Well that’s one way to fix a dislocated shoulder there frank Holy god supporting a grown ass man on a fucked shoulder “BR 143/24” graffiti on the bridge.... wonder if it’s just coincidence but it’s the only thing on the wall so i don’t think it is Good choice Brett Well fuck Pilgrim is going to Madani’s house BILLY RUSSO IS NOT GOING TO RUN OFF WITH YOU FUCKING KRISTA if this isn’t a long con on his part, I’m going to be fucking pissed. He didn’t say “i promise” and you lied to him. Don’t lie to billy Billy may be mentally unstable but Krista is ILL. Why is she calling Madani?!? She’s too fucking detactched MADANI SEE FUCKING PAST YOUR OWN NOSE FOR ONE SECOND AND FIGURE THIS OUT wait i think she just did Also.... Krista’s going to fucking make billy think frank is coming after her even though he isn’t... this is going to be messy as hell Nevermind... he went to the trailer. SHIT SHIT SHIT POOR CURTIS Well Curtis only has one kneecap? Soooooooo Oh look it’s Amy ruining every fucking thing again I GASPED OUT LOUD DURING THIS CURTIS FIGHT poor dude BITCH BILLY LIED TO YOU HES NOT GOING TO GET THE PAPERWORK dammit nevermind he did. Shit. Are you really planning on running off with this bitch, Billy Russo ?! The fuck?! Well Curtis is still alive Oh and frank kidnapped someone, ok cool Billy can’t just fucking let frank go, right? Like............. Back to the Russians again. It’s his dad, Frank. Let me save you some trouble. I believe him. I think he really didn’t know that anything was being done. An honest senator?!? I thought that buckshot was pomegranate seeds for a minute Are you actually going to shoot him, Amy? Madani is at Krista’s door - calling it BINGO Is Krista going to fucking hit madani with this teapot? Billy is buying her flowers?! Madani playing Krista... this I like. I hope billy walks in this goddamn door SHE FOUND THE JOURNAL. She KNOWS HOLY SHIT SHE STABBED HER WITH SCISSORS Battle of Billy’s Bitches OH MY GOD HOLY FUCK MADANI PUSHED HER OUT A FUCKING WINDOW Billy had something taken away from him yet again. This is.... not going to end well. He’s gonna think it was frank. FUCK. WOW HOLY FUCK.

13: The Whirlwind Billy, as assumed is not happy. “You had to make it about her” uh, yeah.... it’s always been about that fucking psychopath therapist That’s not the end of Billy Russo.  it cant be. FaceTime With Frank™️ Bitch that is CLEARLY a threat Amy’s room service? Except she’s hiding around the corner This kid’s name is LEMMUEL?!!? “He came after me” BITCH YOU THREW HIS GIRLFRIEND OUT A WINDOW OF COURSE HE CAME FOR YOU holy crap, madani’s done?!? WRONG ROOM FRANK Putting lots of holes in the wall and OH HELLO FRANK IS GOING RIGHT THROUGH IT Shit look at Amy again screwing everything up Frank has bad luck with elevators in hotels He fights best when he is cornered Omg billy getting operated on by a drunk... Jesus. .... If he dies on this operating table .... NO ANESTHESIA JESUS CHRIST BILLY so much goddamn pain .... GET THE FUCKING BULLETS OUT DOCTOR DRUNKARD. COME THE FUCK ON. HES NOT DEAD They sure did, David. Oh my god. This doctor threw him in a fucking dumpster Fuck fuck fuck fuck Amy trying to talk sense into John.... ok, sure Jan. PEOPLE NEVER CHANGE Who are you meeting Brett? Oh. Curtis and David. Doing the right thing could have fucked over Frank, Curtis. THINK ABOUT THAT. He played the family card. Fuck off John Pilgrim. If i had a dollar for every time frank told someone to point a weapon at him.... OUCH, Frank’s face. Aaaand there it goes through some glass and chains.... Jesus These two men can barely stand WHERE THE FUCK IS BILLY frank’s got a giant pipe . Didn’t Daredevil wrap chains around his arm too? THIS IS EMBARRASSING FRANK GET IT TOGETHER there you go, with the oxygen tank Asking for leniency for his kids with his last breath... damn “You’re the whirlwind” FUCKING CURTIS IS BILLY IN YOUR ROOM AGAIN no. Fucking Billy. Oh lord. GO BE WITH HIM CURTIS JESUS PLEASE “I don’t want to die alone” Dinah and Krista again.... FML You don’t love him, girl, i promise And he’s not coming from you FRANK . . . . . Fucking hell. Jesus. No redemption. He died alone and scared and sad and in pain. Fucking hell. .... keep the lies going Curtis and Madani. End of story. Bye Eliza. BYEEEEEE. WAIT WHAT HE LET PILGRIM LIVE?!? Well, i guess it’s nice that Frank has something to care about. Too bad I feel nothing for Amy. Still. What the fuck do you want Madani? She’s with the CIA now?!!? LAST FUCKING SCENE. Daaaaaaamn.

[vickdrops]

Happiness [Bucky x Reader]

Pairing: bucky x reader (Y/N) Genre: angst/fluff Warnings: strong language A/N: someone put ‘angst/fluff’ on my grave bc that’s all I ever write apparently. this is for @hellyeahbarnes​ because she still remembers the title of this from when it was first posted ages ago :P requests for bucky, frank castle, and billy russo are open!

When Bucky met Y/N for the first time, he’d stopped for an entire 5 seconds outside the cafe window, just staring at her face. He’d felt like the entire world (as well as all the haunting weight that never seemed to leave his shoulders) had evaporated into thin air, and all he could think about what how gorgeous this person was. Her hair had been tied loosely in a bun at the nape of her neck, but he remembers so clearly the few, curly tendrils that had escaped and fallen in front of her face.

The first time he saw her, he swore his heart stopped.

He remembers how beautiful her smile had been when he approached her, and stuttered out a shaky “hello” for the first time. And how she laughed like she didn’t have a care in the world, when he couldn’t seem to get anymore words out after that, and stuck her hand out for him to shake, with a breezy “Hi, I’m Y/N. Would you like to have a coffee with me?”

And as they say, the rest was history.

He remembers one night where he’d been lying in bed, terrified to fall close his eyes- no, terrified of what he might see if he closes his eyes, and Y/N had come out of the shower, singing some silly jingle she’d heard on the TV earlier that night. She’d been dancing in one of his shirts, and he couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto his face as he watched this amazing creature slip underneath the covers and whisper to him, “I can’t get the bug repellant ad song out of my head.” And when he’d try to roll his eyes playfully, and trying to banish the thought of the impending nightmares only moments away, she’d crawled over to him of him and snuggled literally on top of his chest. And he can’t remember exactly why she’d done it, but he can remember how, with her weight on top of him, he’d felt properly warm and relaxed for the first time in years.

There were no nightmares that night.

Fuck Hydra- fuck all of that. The girl that had curled up beside him and sang him to sleep, the girl that could calm him down from a panic attack with nothing but her quiet whispers and gentle touches- that was all that mattered to Bucky. And he remember show, right before he fell asleep that night, he forgave his lucky stars. He forgave the stars and the Gods and the universe for the decades of pain, because, if his destiny had been aligned this way so that he could one day fall in love with Y/N, then hell. It had all been worth it.

He remembers how, the next morning, when she was making him pancakes shaped like his face (“It’s pancake art, Buck!”), the words that fell from his mouth were words he never thought he’d ever get to say- but he also remembers how he never once regretted saying them. He’d been standing in the doorway, watching her concentrate so hard on perfecting his pancake-eyebrows, and he’d said it so quietly (but oh, how he’d meant it), that she had almost missed it. Almost.

“Marry me.”

He can still picture her face in his mind, clear as crystal- he can picture the stunned, glazed expression she wore, her cheeks tinged pink and her mouth agape, as she stood with her back to the counter, the pancake of his face burning to a crisp in the pan.

“You- wha- marry you?” She’d breathed, her eyes as round as saucers.

He recalls how that had been the third time in his life that he’d been truly afraid. The first was when Steve first joined the army, because goddamn that kid was going to get trampled in army. And the second was- it still hurts to think about it- his fall off off the train. He’d been truly afraid then. And he was feeling it now for the third time- the fear of being rejected by the only person he could ever see himself loving for the rest of his life. The sheer terror of having to maybe consider what life without her again.

“Okay?”

He hadn’t realised that he’d been holding his breath.

“Okay?” He’d repeated softly, a toothy grin (that he didn’t even know he was capable of pulling) spreading on his face. He remembers how much his cheeks hurt because the last time he’d smiled that hard had been on Coney Island with Steve- almost a lifetime ago.

“Okay,” she’d giggled, and he was across the room in an instant, sweeping her up into the biggest, tightest hug, and, like, Bucky’s not usually a touchy person. But with Y/N- he always wants to touch her. Always wants to be holding her hand, or feeling her leg against his. And so Y/N’s arms (spatula and pancake-batter-fingers and all) were wrapped around his neck and he was lifting her off her toes, and they were spinning, spinning, giggling and grinning because they were gonna get married!

But it never ever goes to plan, does it?

Who was he to think that he, The Winter Soldier, deserved anything but an unhappy ending? And Bucky has this habit, right, of dramatising things and letting his head rule his heart until he feels so isolated, and so when he’d lost control a few weeks later and almost slammed Y/N- his sun and stars and everything in between- into the bathroom door, he made up his mind.

Monsters don’t get fairytale endings; they don’t get the princess. And as much as it had killed Bucky to do it, he locked himself in the bathroom and yelled her to “piss off!” when she’d banged on the door and pleaded for him to just. Let her in. Please.

But he’d yelled some things at her he didn’t mean in a million years (even though he knew that both of them knew that- they still hurt). He’d yelled, and they’d both cried, and she had left his place in the early hours of the morning with tear-stained cheeks and a broken heart. He remembers how utterly empty he had felt, sprawled helplessly on the floor with the shards of the broken mirror he’d punched littered on the ground around him.

And so, here he is, two whole months later, sitting on top of the Avengers tower, staring out at the millions of tiny lights that make up New York City. He’s staring- but not really seeing. All he can think is Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, and how much he misses her and needs her. Fuck, he needs her. He’s been sleeping like shit these past few weeks, ever since he’d let her go. (Honestly though, he was lucky if he slept at all. The nightmares seemed to return with a viciousness that he was defenseless against).

He was keeping her safe by staying away. None of the other avengers know about her, she wasn’t in the SHIELD system (Bucky made sure of that the instant they got involved), and as far as he knows (and he knows her pretty damn well), she’s not actually an undercover SHIELD or HYDRA agent.

She was safe. And if her safety could only be guaranteed by them being apart, then he’d suffer a lifetime to keep her from harm.

So why does the engagement ring in his back pocket feel so damn heavy?

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice brings him back down to reality- the shit, lonely reality he just can’t seem to escape. Bucky turns his head, too tired to give a proper response. Steve keeps his distance, letting Bucky have his space, and Bucky feels a surge of gratitude for his friend. He knows the team is concerned about him- hell, even he’s concerned- but he doesn’t even consider the idea of telling the team about Y/N. (And he’s thought about this a whole lot, right, because how else is he supposed to pass the time? And he’s come to the conclusion that he doesn’t want to tell the team because, mostly, he doesn’t want to endanger her, because this ‘superhero’ business almost comes with a using-loved-ones-for-leverage guarantee, and Y/N isn’t someone he can risk, but also because there’s a party of him that doesn’t want to believe that it’s over. If he tells someone about her, they’ll want to know more- they’ll want to know everything- and using past tense to describe his relationship with Y/N is already painful enough when it’s in his head. He doesn’t think he can do it out loud.)

“There’s a girl downstairs asking for you. We don’t know who she is, but...uh...she says she knows you,” Steve begins, an edge to his voice that Bucky doesn’t recognise.

“Who cares,” Bucky mutters back, running a hand through his hair. He let it grow long again, having no motivation to cut it, and it was almost back to chin-length. He hates it.

“She says her name is Y/N,” Steve adds softly, and Bucky immediately stiffens. His heart is caught in his throat and he can’t breathe. Y/N. Y/N is downstairs and she wants to see him and. He doesn’t know if he can do it.

“I don’t want to see her,” Bucky mutters, glaring at his hands because his head says don’t fucking do it but his heart is saying Y/N.

“Look, I don’t know who she is, but you’re a mess, Buck.” Steve doesn’t come any closer but doesn’t show any signs that he’s leaving, either. “If there’s any chance she can help you...please let her,” he says quietly.

“No need,” comes a soft voice that makes Bucky’s heartbeat double immediately and he’s whipping his head around so fast because he knows that voice. It’s the voice that keeps the nightmares away- the voice he thinks about all the time because he’s so damn scared he’ll forget what it sounds like.

She’s standing a little behind Steve, her glasses slipping off her nose a little, and she’s holding her forearms like she’s holding herself together- Bucky knows what that feels like.

“Y/N,” he breathes, slowly getting to his feet, his eyes locked on hers because she’s real and right in front of him. It’s only been two months, but it feels like forever, so he’s devouring her with his eyes and committing every piece of hair and every slope of her face to memory. He’s a man deprived of water and she’s a fucking waterfall.

“Look, I’ve been thinking a lot, and...I don’t give a shit,” she announces, and Bucky just looks. Looks at her. He opens his mouth to reply, but she just narrows her eyes and continues. “Yeah, you’re the big, scary Winter Solider who could probably kill me before I say ‘avenger’, but honestly, who cares? I love you, I trust you, and I know you feel the same, so you seriously need to quit your little martyr act because you deserve to be happy too.”

Does he?

He doesn’t fully believe it yet, but he’d like it to be true.

“You’re not safe with me,” he says miserably. Y/N rolls her eyes, but Steve interrupts before she can say another world.

“Hey, we’re a family here. And if Y/N is your-your...person, then she’s a part of the family too. And we protect our family, remember?” he says. “We promise to keep her safe, Buck. But she’s right. You deserve to be happy too.”

Y/N walks tentatively towards him, and he’s torn between freezing on the spot and sprinting towards her. But she reaches him before he can decide, and then she’s looping her fingers through his...and he feels whole again.

Bucky Barnes is holding happiness in his hands and he doesn’t plan on letting her go again.

Masterlist // Request Something

[stranger-harringtons]

what you know.

hi! haven’t written a cheeky little fic in quite a bit, so I thought i’d stretch the muscles on a kastle fic. if you’re not aboard this train, what’s wrong with ya? enjoy! (read on ao3)

Karen Page only manages to get through one therapy session.

It was Ellison’s idea, of course. His constant good-natured quips about getting herself into trouble over and over didn’t seem appropriate after a hostage attempt, a bombing, and then another supposed hostage attempt, apparently. He tried to soften the suggestion of seeing a therapist by saying she’d be no good to him if she kept zoning out, or falling asleep at her desk, but the suggestion was real all the same. Try a therapist. Get some rest. Those were her orders.

But apparently Karen isn’t the therapy type, because she decides halfway through the first session that she won’t come back a second time. It’s not that the therapist isn’t nice—she’s plenty nice. It’s the fact that so much of Karen’s issues are redacted knowledge, piled under cover stories and bullshit she’s told the cops, that she just can’t bring herself to hash it all out with a stranger.

Karen thinks that maybe the therapist—a Dr. Foreman or Freeman or something like that—knew that she was losing Karen during the session, because she had said, “Look, Ms. Page…can I call you Karen?”

Karen had nodded, already tired of speaking.

“Karen, sometimes after a trauma our reality can feel so distant that it’s hard to get a handle on what’s real. But the things from our past, the things that are true to our core…those things will always be true. When reality feels like its slipping away, hold on to those things. You have to focus on what you know.”

The good doctor had lost her after that, and Karen thought it was all pretty much bullshit. But the last part had stuck with her. What did she know?

Karen knows that she likes to read on the subway. She likes wearing heels that click on the sidewalk. She prefers winter to summer, but dislikes wearing pantyhose during the winter. Karen hates exercising but is apparently not a fan of therapy, so she goes running on Saturday mornings. She keeps a .380 in her purse and a pot of dying roses in her window. She has a track record for falling in love with the wrong people. She is fine.

She repeats the list in her head each morning when she wakes up, until her hands stop shaking and the knots in her stomach go away.

It’s only been a month and three weeks when she sees Frank again.

She’d been working in the meantime, after finally convincing Ellison that the Bulletin really wasn’t better off with her on leave. She’d been in plenty of other traumatic situations before, she’d told him. He had glanced at her pointedly and let it go. In her downtime, she’d searched. For Frank Castle. For Pete Castiglione. There was nothing.

Madani had been the one to tell her about Frank’s new identity. “He’s practically a ghost now,” she’d said from the hospital bed. Like he hadn’t been before.

That’s how he reappears, too. Ghostlike.

She’s sitting in a booth at a shitty diner on 53rd on a Monday night, files spread around on the sticky table in front of her. It’s almost eleven thirty, so the streets outside the window aren’t too busy except for the occasional police cruiser and stray pedestrian. She’s still skimming her notes when she feels a presence pause outside the window, but by the time she looks over there is no one there.

 It’s another few minutes before the bell on the door chimes.

He’s let his hair grow out again, but his beard is neater than it was before. He’s wearing a black hoodie totally inappropriate for the cold weather, but underneath that is a green flannel which surprises Karen a little. She’s never seen him in green.

He walks slowly to her booth, and her eyes are on him the whole time. He looks a little apprehensive, which is maybe why he hesitates a little by the booth before sitting down.

The highlighter she’s been holding has bled a bright yellow circle onto the paper in front of her.

“Karen.”

She can’t help the sigh that escapes her, or the sheer relief she feels at hearing her own name coming out of his mouth.

Is this reality slipping away?

What does she know?

Karen likes wearing her hair down. She likes having plants in her house, but she doesn’t like watering them. She likes white roses. She likes crappy disco music and having a gun in her purse. She likes green flannel.

 “Frank.” It comes out hushed.

Her world cracks open a little when he gives her a smirk. “Its, uh… It’s Pete, actually.”

 She doesn’t allow herself to smile. She’s burning with something that feels like anger but she can’t be quite sure. How can she be so happy and so angry at once? “Where have you been?” she says. “I looked for you. After Central Park…”

That makes the smirk leave his lips. “I had to lay low for a while,” he explains. “I was in bad shape… had to get outta dodge.”

“I could have helped you!” Her voice is suddenly loud again, which makes Frank’s eyes scan the diner briefly before apparently deciding her outburst was called for. Karen gives him an apologetic glance. “I was worried, Frank,” she says lower. “I… I missed you.”

God, what is it about this man? Sure, they can make it through harrowing violence and trauma, but simple gestures of affection render her avoiding his eyes.

He says nothing, but she sees his fingers twitch on the table like they need something to hold onto. She hears him suck in a breath.

“Why now?” she asks, finally meeting his eyes again. They squint a little, like he’s thinking hard about something.

 “Seemed like long enough.”

 And she can’t help but smile.

 The diner becomes their designated spot to meet. Mondays, as it turns out, are Frank’s most social day of the week. Curtis leads group at eight, so Frank meets her at the same booth as always when he’s done.

He tells her about the veterans group while they split pots of coffee. He talks about the Liebermans, about Zach and Leo, and sometimes he even mentions his own kids. He tells her about the books he’s reading, the jobs he’s working. Sometimes he holds her hand for a few seconds across the table. He smiles a lot more.

 Karen tells him about the Bulletin. She explains the stories she’s working, and ignores his frowns when she mentions the more dangerous ones. Sometimes she talks about Vermont. She tells him about Foggy and Ellison, about how she’s picked up running. She smiles a lot more too. She doesn’t tell him how much she looks forward to her Monday nights, or that at night she dreams about running her hands through his hair.

 Those thoughts she keeps to herself.

Their routine stays the same for two months until someone sends a crude bomb to the Bulletin and Frank comes to her apartment that afternoon.

 He’s pounding on the door at around three in the afternoon, only about an hour after Karen was given the all clear to leave the hospital and head back home. As soon as she unlatches the door, he’s pushing past her threshold with both hands on her shoulders.

 “Karen, are you hurt?” He’s scanning her for injuries, eyes wild, and she barely has time to process the goosebumps his hands leave behind.

 She swings the door shut behind him. “Frank, I’m fine,” she tells him. “Really.”

 Frank’s hands briefly rest on her cheeks before returning to her arms. “Don’t bullshit me.”

 She rolls her eyes. “I’m not bullshitting you. The package was in the mailroom, nobody was in there. Not even me.”

 Frank seems to relax a little and lets his hands fall to his sides. She feels the loss almost immediately but tries not to let it show, even as she stays close in his space. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “What kind of shit have you gotten into now?”

She shrugs. “Probably just some low level criminal who’s pissed about something I wrote,” she says. “Though the package wasn’t even technically addressed to me, so who really knows? Could’ve been for any reporter.”

 Frank smiles wanly. “Doubt that.”

 “Me too.”

 He’s still standing close, so she barely has to move when he drops his forehead against hers like he’d done what seemed like forever ago. Her heart feels like its going to beat out of her chest when she rests her hands on his hips. She can feel a holster at his waist, and in some twisted logic she feels even safer with it under her hand.

Her hands shake.

 Karen Page likes watching old movies. She likes being on her laptop in bed with all the lights off. She likes red wine and black coffee. She likes the smell of gunmetal and she likes Frank Castle under her hands.

 “Can’t keep you safe if you do shit like this,” he says, shaking his head back and forth against hers.

“You don’t have to protect me, Frank.”

 “Of course I do,” he breathes.

 That makes her lean back and look into his eyes. She’s not sure what exactly she’s looking for. But it’s not his eyes that make her kiss him. Its his hands, loosening their grip on her shoulders and sliding up her neck to rest on her cheeks. They cup her face when she finally presses her mouth to his, gentle until she opens her mouth and they move to her waist. He’s holding her so tightly she thinks there will be bruises of his fingertips tomorrow. The thought makes her kiss him deeper.

 After a moment, he pulls away. His eyes look darker than usual as they search hers. “Karen,” he whispers.

 Oh God. “Too much?” she whispers, fearing the answer. She’s never wanted to push him, ever. She takes a step back. “Shit, I’m sorry. If you want to go…”

But he takes a step forward, closing the space she’d created. He brushes a piece of hair from her face, and lets his hand rest there. “No, I don’t… I don’t want to go.”

It’s like he’s afraid of hurting her, of all things. Karen, who has stepped on his heart at least twice and who he’s taken a bullet for anyway. They didn’t lie to each other. They put their shit out on a sticky diner table and confronted their demons, bleeding for each other both literally and not. She’s the one whose always afraid. But not of this.

So she presses a kiss to his jaw and says, “Then stay.”

He does.

When Karen Page wakes in the mornings, her hands still sometimes shake. She still has the occasional knot in her stomach. If she’s lucky, the sun will hit her bed and she allows herself to be blinded momentarily by the warmth of it. She recites her list anyway.

What do you know?

Karen knows she likes to read on the subway. She likes red wine and black coffee. She likes New York City, but sometimes misses Vermont. She likes writing the news, but prefers not to be it. She likes her .380 in her purse and green flannel. She had a brother.

She likes Pete Castiglione, but she likes Frank Castle more. She likes the feeling of stubble under her lips. She likes pressing her cold toes into Frank’s calves when they’re sleeping. She loves when Frank kisses her jaw and when he curses into her mouth. She loves his voice when he reads aloud. She loves the smell of gunmetal. She is fine.

Her hands stop shaking.

The knots in her stomach go away.

He sleepily tightens his arms around her waist.

[master-sass-blast]

Time for me to waddle myself into your ask box and ask for ALL the OTP questions for Kastle~~~

SEFKLJSLKFJDSLFLDSKDHHDSLKSLSLDKFJLDSL

Okay, okay, deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

*hyperventilates*

(Throwing this under a cut for length reasons; my deepest apologies if you’re on mobile.)

Okay, so let it be known that I am fond of some very specific Kastle tropes, namely where both Karen and Frank are hot messes and really don’t have their shit together, so that’s gonna be immensely present in this list.

1. Acts like they’re dying when they have a cold: I’d venture to say neither; they’re both the type to soldier through like nothing’s changed until the other person ties them to the bed and laces their drink with Nyquil to make them sleep.

2. Gets mad at the TV and throws the remote: Again, I’d say neither, but if someone was going to do it, it’d be Karen. I think Frank would be too self-aware of keeping his rage/strength in check to do something impulsive like that.

3. Gets the worst road rage: KAREN. Like, Frank will get annoyed, but Karen Page has road rage rivaled by none other. She’s the type to swear like a sailor and level death threats at the other drives, which amuses Frank to no end.

4. Spends too much time in the bathroom on their phone: Canonically, Frank basically doesn’t have a phone (I’m sorry, but fucking flip phones don’t fucking count), so Karen. Mostly because she’s trying to keep track of news stuff as a journalist/private investigator.

 5. Packs the whole closet for an overnight trip: Frank. Except the closet is his entire arsenal, the dork.

6. Hates the in-laws: Also Frank. It’s fanon that Frank’s parents had him old and aren’t around during DD/TP, and it’s canon that Karen’s mom is dead, which just leaves Karen’s dead, and whooooo boy.

Do you honestly think that Frank Castle, the man who loved and lost his family, the man who’s calming mantra is a phrase from a book that his daughter loved, would be amiable with the likes of Mr. Page, who told his daughter that he didn’t want to see her again after she got into a car crash/the death of her brother, and turned her away when there was a literal assassin after her?

Because I don’t.

So, yeah. Frank hates Mr. Page and would have no issue letting him know that with exact reasons. Maybe a Powerpoint presentation too, just to drive the point home.

7. Hits the snooze button…11 times: Karen, because she’s up too late at night researching.

8. Makes the other late for work: Karen, actually. She’s usually running late for her own work, and Frank’s a stickler about timing so he’s not about to delay her any further than she’s already delayed herself. If we’re talking about the odd jobs/construction work he picks up, he’s usually a little late because she needs to shower, and he lets her go before him so she can get to work on time, which pushes his schedule back.

Not that you’d ever hear him complain about it, though. It’s basically canon that Frank Castle would let Karen Page get away with murder.

And if we’re talking about Frank’s Punisher “work,” well, Karen still runs the end of making him late for a few things, but that’s for an entirely different set of reasons. *wink wonk*

9. Uses the television as a babysitter: Karen, but only because she’s usually super busy with work.

10. Takes in the stray dog: Frank. He basically already did that in Season 2 of Daredevil. Next question.

11. Suggests a 3am trip to McDonald’s: Karen, because she’s up late researching.

Frank always humors her.

12. Leaves their shoes out for the other to trip over: Karen. Frank’s too neurotically organized (military) to leave his shoes everywhere.

(Bear in mind, though, that it’s Karen tripping over her own shoes. Frank’s too aware of his surroundings to have that happen to him.)

 13. Can’t make up their mind when it comes to dinner: Frank, actually. The military wasn’t exactly the places of many choices, and Maria usually handled meals when he was home so he usually wasn’t in the wheelhouse when it came to making those decisions. Plus, as the Punisher, he sticks to nonperishables (canned food, MREs, etc) and coffee, so it’s not like he’s got a ton of choice now, anyway.

He usually lets Karen order and calls it good. He likes just about anything she picks, anyway.

14. Needs to be reminded of all their appointments: Karen, mostly because she’s liable to overbook herself otherwise.

And the only appointments Frank keeps are murder-y ones, so… yeah. Karen.

 15. Bribes the other into doing chores, getting out of the house…and taking a shower: Doing chores and taking a shower? Neither of them. They’re both pretty functional in that area.

Getting out of the house (or, more accurately, doing something that’s not work)? They both have to do it with each other on a regular basis. Karen’s go-to’s with Frank usually involve dogs; Frank’s go-to’s with Karen usually… also involve dogs.

They’re people of similar tastes.

 16. Picks the movies: Both of them.

17. Takes the safety steps when building a pillow fort: Frank. “If you’re gonna build a pillow fort, you gotta do it right, Page.”

Karen thinks he’s nuts, but lets him do it anyway.

18. Kisses the other’s injuries better: Both of them do.

Karen does it before/during/after making love (and in general, but there’s more access to Frank’s skin when they’re, you know, naked or in the process of becoming naked), as a way of reminding him that she loves him and he deserves to be loved.

Frank does it once when she scrapes her knee (she tripped on a flight of stairs) out of the habit of having been a father, and then Karen asks him to “kiss it better” each time she gets an injury afterwards.

Which he does because he loves her and we all know that Frank would do just about anything for Karen Page.

19. Is addicted to angry birds, game of war, candy crush, temple run, or flappy bird: FRANK. He’s got to have something to do to pass the time on his stakeouts (look, I know this doesn’t match up with what I said about his flip phones, but just humor me, okay).

20. Kills the spiders: Frank. Karen’ll do it, but she likes having Frank do it (and he likes being rewarded with her kisses, so it works for both of them).

21. Hogs the blankets: Karen. Take one look at Karen/Deborah Ann Woll and tell me that someone that petite (frame wise, she’s taller than me and I’m tall) doesn’t get cold easy. Go on. I’ll wait.

22. Takes pranks too far: Neither of them. They’re both pretty careful with each other in that regard.

23. Makes the dirty jokes: They’ll both make the occasional joke, but neither of them are “frat boys” about it.

24. Keeps a piggy bank: Karen. It’s a convenient place to keep her spare change.

25. Has no problem having ice cream for breakfast: Karen, if only to piss Frank off.

26. Gets a tattoo when they’re drunk: Frank’s been there, done that, during his bootcamp days.

27. Trips over their own feet: Karen, every now and then.

 28. Makes the other go for a walk: Frank. Karen works a lot of long hours, so he makes a point to drag her outside and make her stretch her legs.

29. Whines until they get what they want: Karen, mostly because it makes Frank laugh.

 30. Tries to act tough but really isn’t: Neither of them. These two are tough as nails when it comes to it.

31. Talks the most, says the least: Karen. Granted, Karen knows how to make her words count when she needs to, but she’s more prone to rambling.

32. Talks the least, says the most: Frank Castle, aka the Man of Few Words and Many Grunts.

[something-tofightfor]

The Punisher Season 2: Episodes 6-10

Initial reactions as I watched these episodes.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. I literally tagged it four different ways for spoilers so if you read them after this it’s your own damn fault. 

6: Nakazat Amy looks like every typical 16 year old girl at the mall Oh frank. Frank frank frank. You with that gun Curtis is such a genuinely good guy. Goddammit. Fuck. He better not bang her. Alright AMY. Don’t bring up the kids. Frank is so fucking sad. Oh so he sees through the transformation bullshit. And he’s apologizing for spying on her. Interesting. SELF ASSURED BILLY IS COMING BACK SLOWLY it’s interesting that she isn’t giving him rules TONGUE So these pictures are literally of men kissing. Interesting. Roughhousing with Frank, must be 18 to ride this ride I actually really liked this scene in the trailer with the gun training. Looks like Billy can do more than 20 pushups now And he’s reading his own file.... WHO IS KM Billy and Curtis...  and he APOLOGIZED. Jeeeeeesus. He’s fucking crying. I can’t. He’s so sad. So angry. So confused. Brett and Dinah again.... hmmmm. Brett still doesn’t know that Frank was there. Madani feels guilt about lying about the carousel.... HE CALLED her out about lying. Frank stole a limo, ok. This confrontation between Pilgrim and Madani is... not that tense. But i mean maybe don’t point your gun st someone on a sidewalk in broad daylight? Is the subplot of this show a fucking Russian election meddling scheme? Yes. Yes it is. When Frank Castle tells you to get on your knees, you get on your knees MY FUCKING GOD WHY DO YOU LET HIM LIVE Where is billy getting money from? He’s finding a group of friends again... he’s earning his spot at the head of the pack again. Giving orders sounds ... natural coming from him. This is billy trying to reassert himself. Trying to do “good”. The accent is much more pronounced when he is in the moment. You’re not a petty criminal Billy. You’re better than this. Way better. Would you do it all over again, frank? Maybe. This poor kid, and Curtis trying to clean up the mess. Again. Welp, guess it doesn’t matter that Frank let him live. Oh Dr. Dumont just hid her most recent notes. Why is she protecting billy? ... he has poor impulse control and yet you slapped him and stabbed him in the damn hand with a letter opener.... and you have a degree in psychology? K. I just threw my glasses across the room. This is not happening. This group therapy session between Frank, Madani and Curtis is constructive.

7: One Bad Day Madani’s interview... ONE YEAR HAS PASSED. MADANI BEING HONEST. Her poor choice in sexual partners got her here I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THE LETTER OPENER lmao madani having to talk about sleeping with Billy in detail. This is what i wanted. Madani admitted to her mistakes. THIS IS EVERYTHING #justiceforstein Frank needs to stop people from telling him what the fuck to do. He can live with killing people ... but it’s not easy. Madani is lying about never wanting to kill Billy herself... but she doesn’t have the balls to do it. Frank doesn’t want to kill him, but he’s going to do it because he feels that he OWES Curtis and Madani. This bitch chewing her pills kills me More billy sex flashbacks ... she’s fucked. The biggest fucking sigh to ever come out of my mouth just came out of my mouth. .... so they’re getting off on hurting each other. I really hate this bitch She’s lying. Billy’s being honest again. The sex helped him more than therapy or medication. Knowing that he has “friends” out there helped. Oh this bitch is a manipulator. Holy shit. Oh. But he put someone ahead of himself for once. Interesting. He just wants to know what it feels like to have part of everything. That’s... different. BYE BITCH. Billy. You. Are. Not. A. Petty. Criminal. The fuck are you doing? It’s really interesting to me that Billy is choosing this path because he fell in with an easy, shitty crowd. He’s better than this. He’s capable of so many things. I get that this is because he’s a wanted man... but.... STILL TALKING ABOUT BETH... She sold you out FRANK, KAREN FUCKING PAGE WOULDNT EVER this drug addict is going to fuck everything up. Everyone wants Billy dead... except Madani... and I think Billy is included in this group of people that want him dead. Talking about a “new normal” This applies to frank and billy and madani and even Curtis ... HMMMM Interrogator Frank Madani and Curtis just standing there and watching with bored expressions on their faces is the best Lots of hand stabbing in this season. Good thing Curtis is a medic. BILLY DIDNT MURDER FRANK’S WHOLE FAMILY we’ve officially reached the point in the season where i feel BAD for Madani. .... nevermind. (Not even two minutes later) This is intense. Goddammit LILLIAN he didn’t kill anyone. He did everything he could to NOT kill anyone. Interesting. OH FUCK THE VEST OH FUCK billy is having a panic attack. Holy hell.

8: My Brother’s Keeper I don’t like the title of this. Billy remembers. Not everything, but enough I think. I have been waiting for billy with this gun for MONTHS Did not disappoint. Frank is literally running down the street in the Punisher vest, like.... is that a good idea or nah? Curtis just saved his ass twice LET HIM REMEMBER YOU ASSHOLES OH WELL OK THEN. Frank and Curtis... are having a moment and it’s much needed. Frank’s analysis of Billy’s response to seeing him and having Frank fire at him breaks my heart. He looked at Billy and saw family. “he does not know what he did” OH FRANK. Oh sweet frank. He had a shot... and couldn’t take it. Billy came back to Krista.... He said please again. Billy Russo is going to beg? He didn’t have to Oh lord. He remembers and knows that frank betrayed him but not WHY. god this is heartbreaking. Ben Barnes is an incredible actor. His tears and the emotions are so goddamn real. This scene after she lets him back in is one of the best acted scenes on TV. “I know but i don’t know. I don’t feel it” Christ almighty take my heart and stomp on it why don’t you “He was my best friend, but he was pointing a gun at me” ... oh Billy. She can’t help you. She’s manipulating you because she wants power. She needs to feel wanted. FUCK YOU KRISTA DUMONT Curtis had a shot too... and he didn’t take it. Neither of them could do it. Curtis just wants to be normal. He wants to have a life - an “AFTER” ... Frank screaming at this girl is great. That’s not the way she thought the day was going to go. Brett knowing about Castle is really interesting to me. This conversation is really interesting to me. He’s not fucking around. Billy would give his life for Frank. And he thinks that he’s not the man he was before... THERE ARE MORE PIECES BITCH. I THINK KRISTA WAS IN THIS FUCKING CULT Now frank is seeing billy ... and Curtis is calling him out on it Still walking around in the vest... This is Frank’s moment.... OH FUCK YES BILLY He just punched a hole into a wall and I think I had a stroke OH YOU MANIPULATIVE BITCH Do not choose her billy Russo ... goddammit Lmao Amy just tried to kill Curtis OH SHIT THIS IS THE ANVIL SPEECH AGAIN. Oh Billy. You’re thinking very big here. I have nothing to say about this little dinner between Curtis and Amy and Dinah Frank visiting Maria and the kids at the cemetery... 

9: Flustercluck Frank’s gonna drop some knowledge. “Let me be what I’m meant to be” This bitch is trying to make plans with Billy in the future.... uhhhhhhhhhh This isn’t Billy. Yeah she “accepts” him.... but..... Ok so they’re growing in numbers and in strength and in visibility, quickly. They could have established Billy this season without making him fuck this broad. He wants to know why frank tried to kill him... but does he REALLY?!?!? So wait Schultz is in this cult?!? Uh oh. This guy knows who pilgrim is. WHERE ARE YOU GOING AMY?!? ..... billy in madani’s new apartment. And he found the journal. HE CUT OFF THE DUDES THUMB OH MY GOD Billy is there. Oh my god oh my god oh my god This is nuts. Billy and madani have more chemistry out of bed than in Madani telling him the TRUTH. YES YES YES YES YES ... but.... there’s no need to be such a bitch. BILLY WITH THE FUCKING MIC DROP i can’t tell if she’s scared or happy or aroused - maybe all three? Oh Amy, you just killed this girl. Why did you leave your bag in the other room. This is a trap. Frank’s very nervous for Amy Billy... deserves more? He thinks he deserves more, at least KRISTA HE DOESNT CARE ABOUT YOU. Billy doesn’t want to run. THERE IS NO “us” KRISTA. i hope he snaps her fucking neck. Like you barely know this woman...and i get that you feel a connection because she’s been your therapist.... but this isn’t normal. This isn’t right. She.... she’s using you, she’s LYING about something and i am pissed that i can’t figure it out I AM STRESSED AMY SHOT SOMEONE GOOD LORD Dad Frank 🤤🤤 Omg is Krista going to kill madani Just two girls that have both boned Billy Russo hanging out in the same room....  this is going to end well Pilgrim’s real name is... Robbie? WHO ARE YOU THOUGH Who did he steal money from?!? And what did he do with it?!?! 10: The Dark Hearts of Men ... another flashback. :( billy is getting his ASS kicked... and so is frank.... holy hell TONGUE Frank and billy.... GODDAMN. I am sad. Holy fuck Billy’s watching them 24 hours earlier?!?! Oh god someone’s dying The wine is called “decoy” ... billy is listening to this. Madani’s going to go DEEP with this i think... Frank and Curtis are reminiscing about Billy. frank misses being active duty too... just like billy Frank admits they’re the same. Oh yikes. Pilgrim killed some people. He’s very bloody ...and snorting something. Cool. Did he just effing reset his jaw?!? This is what happens when you’re in a cult for 12 years.... you have all kinds of pent up anger and kill 5 people in 3 minutes Instinct and emotion.... justifying it afterward.... Hmmmmmmmmmmmm Frank has done the things billy has done though.... not on the same scale, but.... Welp Pilgrim is apparently on his rumpsringa ... hookers and blow and murder Billy is always alone.... true. But now he thinks he isn’t. And that’s dangerous ... oh, ok. I mean your wife is dying but go on and get a BJ from some methhead Frank and Curtis live on this roof now Billy creeping from a nearby rooftop is me waiting and watching for new content from this show after the teaser was announced at the end of the January promo but before we had any other information John and Rebecca in s sweeter moment ... and she’s questioning him... and she had every right to do so. This description is like Frank and Billy rolled into one... AND SOMEONE STILL LOVES HIM. Krista is getting Madani drunk....... And madani just said she wanted him dead... not the right answer Dinah. “He is just a man alone”.... Billy is a great motivational speaker. ITS A TRAP FRANK. He knows you’re coming. Boom. And here we go Oh this is good This is well shot This is disorienting Frank is getting his ass kicked again Billy is the only one not in a mask. Well. I thought you were better than this billy Holy shit this fight choreography I’m gonna be real pissed if Curtis dies Oh fuck frank just killed civilians FUCK. His desire for revenge killed innocent people. He isn’t any better than Billy ....and Curtis killed someone too. Yikes He was there the whole time. FUCKING billy. Krista is twisted as hell. And i hate her but i gotta kinda respect her for fucking going after what she wants (i reserve the right to change this opinion at a later time and i hope i get to) She’s trying to prove herself to billy..... but I’m not sure if she actually cares or if she just wants the satisfaction of knowing she helped. Fuck... frank is screwed.