#im obsessed with frank help

[rustyghostviolin]

I like to think that if the rebirth process needed more sacrifices Frank would follow the Vanderboom tradition of getting with an absolutely jaw dropping woman because let's be honest, Leonard is definitely in the trenches of homosexuality and Rose does not have time for love during Roots (She can get a girlfriend later, right now she has to deal with her father) And anyways Frank deserves to be covered in lipstick marks and to be with an absolutely insane woman that is just excited to be there. You say that you were trapped in a well for most of your life? You poor thing. What types of bugs did you eat? Can we eat bugs together please?

[idiotmaggot]

SOMEONE HELP ME I CANT STOP DRAWING THEM OVER AND OVER

[punisherdefender]

Oh man, I love Frank Castle

[narutosux]

i want to talk about the frank castle, mr The Punisher, of my dreams

the version of the punisher that is canon to me in my heart and idgaf about reality because men wrote him anyway and i dont respect men in general. im also going to talk a tiny bit about daredevil because to me they are literally two sides of the same coin they're literally bbc merlin and arthur and im this woke ass dragon going "two sides of the same coin go freaky on each other"

In my heart of hearts, Frank Castle is an anarcho communist. He is a hardcore anti-establishment commie who believes that revolution cannot come without bloodshed. He respects and cares about the wellbeing of Daredevil, Matt Murdock, and other heroes who have similar goals, because they do want revolution and change, but they don't have the balls to actually kill wholesale like Frank. Frank sees himself as the only one willing to actually get shit done, and he's okay with being an attack dog. He's used to it, because its what the US government used him as when he was a Marine.

The concept he would ever respect the police, a violent force used to oppress lower classes and protect capital, is LAUGHABLE. It's foolish. I ignore iterations of the Punisher who is fine with killing drug addicts because they're "breaking the law", and I believe in versions of Frank Castle that kills CEOs of pharmaceutical companies for pushing opioids as harmless drugs. I think the Punisher of the 80s might focus on street level drug offenses, however I think he would learn that the problem is systemic and tearing the leaves off a tree won't kill it, you have to attack it at the root.

I believe that he would work willingly with Daredevil A LOT... Obviously, Frank Castle is more than capable of doing investigative work on his own, and he's great at planning, however I think that both men recognize their ability to work well as a team and function together. Frank is willing to work with him on jobs where he can admit that killing isn't NEEDED, even if it would do things a whole lot faster.

Frank Castle, without a single doubt in my mind, HATES the US Military Industrial Complex, and the enforcement of violence. He accepts violence because it's all he's ever known. He's a good trained attack dog, and it's where he feels comfortable, but he's both a dog and his own master, and he feels he can only make up for the attrocities he's helped commit by righting the wrongs he's done. He's single-minded, headstrong, focused on his goals of destroying in order for rebuilding a better version of the world. Allowing people to take time to change means they can fuck up and harm others in the meantime. He's not willing to risk that.

Another piece that I did like from the version of him where he was the leader of the Hand, I really liked the idea that Maria was planning to divorce him right before his family was slaughtered. I think it would make him recognize just how little of life he had, and it would make him even more angry at him failing to protect them and failing to be a genuinely good husband. But, he also recognizes that it was never love, it was a role he thought he was supposed to fill. I just don't think he really loved her. Love doesn't look like what he put Maria through.

He knows how to fill roles, but he doesn't know who he actually is. Something quite similar to Matt Murdock, who feels he's the Devil, but also doesn't know who he is when he's Matthew. They're both constantly trying to fill roles in other people's lives, or fill the roles they think that they're supposed to be in, but they don't actually know who they truly are as people.

I think that's so powerful, for these two men who are so full of conviction and so firm in their beliefs but when it comes to thinking about who they are as people, they don't know themselves. But, they know each other. I think they know each other better than they know themselves, but they don't recognize that it's because they see so much of themselves in the other man.

Sorry, but you can't convince me they aren't completely fucking obsessed with each other. Daredevil sometimes wishes he could be the Punisher. He wishes he could just kill the evil he has had to hear for years and years and years and years of his life. But he knows it would never solve anything, it would only make him as bad as the evil around him. The Punisher wishes he could see a world where redemption is possible, he wishes he had that scrap of humanity left in him still. I think when he works with Daredevil he feels himself growing weaker and he has to run away and can't stay with him long, because it makes him recognize that he might not have the resolve to kill. He also fears he might taint Matt Murdock. He might eventually actually convince him to kill. And that scares him. Frank Castle taints everything around him, even his bloodsoaked, mangled children. Even his wife Maria, brought back from the dead, still covered in bullet wounds and beautiful as ever. He drove her to kill.

One day he might ruin Daredevil like that too, and the only saving grace of that moment would be that Daredevil would finally put down the sick dog that is Frank Castle.

[kavehater]

Shoot uhm I’m thinking now and maybe this wasn’t a joke 😦

“Stop erasing kavehs femininity” this “if you don’t appreciate his feminine qualities then you don’t really like kaveh” that — bold of you to assume that me thinking he’s not feminine equates to me not liking him as a girl

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Just A Little Taste

Frank (Adam Barrett) x f!reader

Summary: you’re the only one left, and Frank is more the happy to keep you around. Alternative ending where Frank kills everyone else and doesn’t explode

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, blood kink (he’s a vampire tf did you expect), degradation, he’s mean to her and she likes it, rough sex (he breaks a table), choking, suffocation kink, implied consent (I think? she consents to it later), explicit language (take a shot every time he says fuck), no use of y/n or physical descriptions, blood, violence, it’s a horror movie idk what to tell you. Read at own caution

I call him Frank throughout the fic, it’s just easier for narrative because he was only ever called Adam like once. It’s also implied in the movie he doesn’t go by Adam anymore so.

WC: 4.8k I’m sorry

A/N: DONT YOU DARE LOOK AT ME. I had to I’m sorry okay??? Not only did I want to fuck this prick the whole movie im actually obsessed with Dan Stevens now so there’s that. But I totally thought about fucking this man the whole movie so I wrote it. To the 5 people that will read this you’re welcome (I’ll see you in hell😘)

For reference I based some characterization bits on this fic by @f1nalboys since I think they wrote Frank perfectly! And I think they rubbed off a little on mine lol

What the fuck did you get yourself into?

Your head was throbbing, your racing heart drumming in your ears. You felt like you were spinning. On your hands and knees on the floor, you were covered in so much blood and guts you felt like tearing your skin off. You didn’t even think it was your own blood. They were all dead. 

This wasn’t what you signed up for.

You were crawling, you didn’t know where you were trying to go, it wasn’t like you could outrun her, or him. You looked behind you to find them in their mayhem. Truly Joey and Abigail were trying, you watched them from a corner—bruised and bloody—as they tried to fight him, maybe kill him. Then you would be next for not helping. But it didn’t look like it mattered. Joey wasn’t moving from where she was impaled, blood gushing from her neck. You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. You choked out a sob as you tried to force yourself up on your feet. But who were you fucking kidding? You were fucked either way. Abigail would catch you and feed off you slowly before ending your torment. Or Frank would. And truly, you almost wanted Abigail to get you instead. 

“Ah. There you are. Thought I forgot about you?” His sinister words filled your ears and another sob ripped from your throat as you pathetically tried to crawl away, your legs too unstable to even support your weight.

“No.. no.. no.” the shaky words slipped from your throat as more tears spilled from your eyes, a feeling of utter terror and dread settling in your stomach. You actually cried when he effortlessly grabbed one of your ankles and dragged you towards him. “Please!”

“Aw, are you crying?” He mocked you, tilting his head at you, tongue swiping over razor sharp teeth. Blood covered his mouth and chin, down his neck and his eyes were sadistic as he looked over your distressed form. He almost looked in thought, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with you yet. 

“Just kill me. There's no one else..” You sobbed, looking to the side to find Abigail’s body completely lifeless, limp, black blood pooling around her. You swallowed, your jaw locking tight as you looked up at him in defeat. You just made peace with the fact that this was it. “You won. Just fucking end it.” 

Frank clicked his tongue, amusement mixing with the malice in his expressions and he shook his head. “I like you, y’know. You have such a dirty fuckin’ mouth for such a pretty face. Thought about how to shut you up all night, and I think I figured it out.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes screwed shut when he reached down to grab you. You fully expected him to sink his fangs into your throat and tear it right out, suck you dry until your heart stopped pumping. But he didn’t. You let out a pathetic sound when he grabbed the back of your hair and forced you up on your feet. He forced your head back, giving you no other option but to look at him. 

Frank knew his heart had stopped beating the second fangs grazed his lips, but right now as he watched your face twist with desperation and anticipation of his next move, your soft lips quivering and your big eyes staring back at him, he swore he felt blood pumping in his veins. This thought of your life being completely in his hands, that ultimately you were the only one left, it gave him an indescribable feeling he craved to explore more. He always did enjoy exerting his power over those around him, but this was so different. He felt it even before he turned. 

Something about you was so intoxicating and alluring to him. The second he met you, he knew he wouldn’t let this be the last time he saw you. As much as that defeated the purpose of the no-name, unknown crew thing he had established. The little looks you shot him throughout the night, like he intrigued you, amused you. He caught each and every one. But it wasn’t until you got all up in his face to curse and shout at him about what had gone down with Abigail that he realized that if he died tonight without getting a taste of you he would be real fucking pissed in hell. 

He didn’t want to kill you. No. He wanted to ruin you. Fuck you into nothing. Fuck you until you were useless, nothing more just an outlet for his pleasure. 

“I don’t want to kill you. I wanna keep you, actually. I wouldn’t waste a pretty lil’ thing like you.” His blood stained lips curled up into a sinister smirk that had your stomach turning in ways that would make any sane human being sick. You kept your mouth shut as he leaned down to find your ear, his grip on your hair tightening. “I can think of a couple things you would be so good for.”

“You're going to hypnotize me? Turn me into your personal fuck puppet?” You scoffed through gritted teeth, the idea making your stomach twist and your jaw lock. He laughed, the sound so somber in your ear it made you swallow. He ultimately shook his head, tisking softly at you.

“Jesus, what kind of a fuckin’ animal do you think I am? You have two options here,” he ran his tongue over his lips, blue eyes sharp on yours as his grip loosened. “You can go. You know where the door is. I’ll even give you a head start. But, if I catch you, I’ll fuck you until you pass out.”

Your mouth fell open, shock filling your eyes at his vulgar words. An unsettling heat settled deep within you as the implications of his words sank in. You should not be considering your options. Get the fuck out. It’s that simple. But your mind lingered. He could almost sense your hesitation. This made him smile.

“Don’t act like you weren’t giving me fuck me eyes all night. Clinging to me like a bitch in heat. I bet you would have let me fuck you on the nearest surface of this place if I had tried.” The words he spat flustered you in deep embarrassment. You hated that he wasn’t wrong. You gravitated towards him, caught glimpses of him when you thought he wasn’t looking, you wrapped up his bleeding leg, you refused to leave his side when everyone else chose to split up. But what truly sunk into him was the fact that you refused to fight him, too. You ran with Joey but you didn’t fight him and you didn’t help them, against your better judgment. And you couldn’t deny that.

“So pick one.” He released your hair, taking a step back. You released the breath you were holding and you stared at him, blinking softly, searching for any deceit in his eyes. Maybe he was toying with you. Giving you a false sense of security. He tilted his head at you, amusement and malicious glee circling in his blue eyes as the smirk never left his expression. 

You often listened to your instincts, to your gut. And your gut was telling you to get the fuck out of this place. You swallowed a sob as you ran down a long hallway, your heart pounding in your chest as your feet took you somewhere. But you hesitated, a deep sense of doubt sinking in your head. Something else joined. A feeling you couldn’t quite comprehend but it was strong, and you didn’t want to go out that door. Not really. 

You stopped running. You didn’t know why you stopped. You looked behind you, almost expecting to find him there. A heavy feeling sat in your chest, an eerie sense of anticipation. You could leave right now, pretend none of this ever happened, only a nightmare to hide in the back of your subconscious. But somehow, you didn’t move. Frank didn’t have to spare you, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fight him off on your own even if you tried—you didn’t want to. He was in complete control and he chose you. You weren’t oblivious. 

The smirk on his face only grew wider when he caught you at the end of the hallway, sinister eyes pinning you in place as he approached you. But you weren’t hypnotized, you just didn’t want to run. 

“Well, aren't you full of surprises?” He grabbed your jaw, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers. You didn’t try to fight him.  Your eyes flickered with defiance and curiosity. “Did you even try to run?”

“You were giving me fuck me eyes, too.” You dared to shoot back, and you didn’t miss the way his eyebrows shot up with pleasant surprise. He blew out a chuckle. 

“Yeah, I was.” 

His mouth was on yours as he held your face in place, his tongue slipping into your mouth without shame, razor sharp teeth nicking your lip. You gasped at the stinging sensation, the metallic taste mixing with his mouth. He almost growled at the taste. 

His mouth stayed on yours, not giving you even a second to breathe as he backed you to the nearest wall. You ignored the blood drying on his cool skin and the stickiness of his clothes as you ran your hands up his face until they landed on his disheveled hair. Truth was, the filthiness of it all, how fucked up it all was, it all added to your arousal. You weren’t a saint afterall, and this thrill excited you like nothing ever before. You didn’t know just what he was capable of, that excited you.

“Your stupid heart is beating so fuckin’ fast. Do you want it that bad?” His words were mocking, in a breathy laugh as his lips moved down your jaw. You opened your mouth to reply when he dragged his tongue over your skin to taste the blood staining it. Your eyes rolled softly, your brain shutting off for just a second.

“God, yes.” You breathed out as his hands grabbed at your tits through your shirt. A smirk fell on his lips again as he effortlessly tore the material right in half. You groaned at this, though ultimately your clothes were ruined anyway, but he could have asked, you would have taken it off. “You could’ve taken it off, you know?”

He laughed, shrugging as he dragged his tongue over your collarbone, the ends of his teeth grazing your skin ever so slightly, “I’m not your fuckin’ Prince Charming.”

“Nope, you’re just an asshole.” You bit your lip softly, trying to level your voice as not to sound so out of breath, so desperate, but when he carelessly unzipped your jeans, tugging them down your thighs just enough for him and unceremoniously shoved his hand into your panties, how the fuck could you stay calm?

“Oh, yeah, I’m a fuckin’ asshole,” he lifted his head to watch your mouth fall open and your eyes grow big when his middle finger slipped between your folds and rubbed your wetness on your clit. The sweet moan he pulled from you made him grin with delight. “But I’m a great fuck. Wanna find out sweetheart?”

The only response you gave him was a pathetic moan when he slipped two long fingers into your hole, and he couldn’t help but mock the way your lips parted open in pleasure.

“Oh, I think you do. You’re soaking my fingers and for what? You just wanted this pussy filled and you didn’t care about nothin’ else huh?” He took in the way your eyebrows furrowed and twisted as he slipped his fingers in and out, listened to your soft gasps each time he curled his fingers the right way. And he did it, again, and again. “You should’ve said somethin’. Fuck.. I would’ve.. I would’ve fucked you with my tongue in the bathroom, or bent you over the pool table and filled you with my cock.”

Your walls squeezed his fingers and a sob ripped from your throat at his words. You were begging his name softly, one of your hands flying to wrap around his wrist as he fucked you with his fingers, your release creeping up on you faster than it ever has before.

“Yeah, you’d like that. You just wanted me to take you like a whore, hm?” He slipped and crooked his fingers perfectly, his palm rutting against your clit with each expert flick of his wrist. Your chest was heaving, eyes screwed shut as pathetic sounds fell freely from your lips. But what truly caught his attention was the vein that popped on your neck close to your pulse point, pulsing as blood pumped through your veins. He narrowed his eyes as he focused on it, he could almost hear each thump of your heart, pumping faster the closer you got. It was so human. Something he no longer was. “What's that? You close or somethin’?”

“Uh-huh!” His thumb was on your clit as the sound left your mouth, his fingers pumping and scissoring your cunt wide open until a sob ripped from your throat, your mind going completely blank as your release coated his fingers. You could feel yourself slip down the wall, your legs a shaking mess that couldn’t hold you up any longer, his fingers still deep inside your weeping cunt. But he didn’t stop, he pressed his body against yours, free hand on your hip, forcing your body upright. You sputtered, your nails digging into his wrist as he forced his fingers as far as they could go, drawing out on your pleasure to the point of tears. “Frank, h-hang on.”

The way you sobbed his name made him smirk, his sadistic eyes now on yours. “Aw, is it too much?” He mocked you, his fingers curling just to torture you. You whined, your eyes pleading for mercy. He didn’t have much to give, but he also didn’t have much self control, either. “Ah, you’re right, we can do better than this. Now, should I stuff your dirty mouth, or your soakin’ pussy?”

You pulled your lips into a pout, your eyes big as you stared up at him, as soft gasp pulled from your lips when his fingers left you. You swallowed, the thought of choking on his cock temping your mind, but fuck, you just wanted him to take you, right now.

“I just.. I want you inside me.”

“‘Course you fuckin’ do.” He pulled you off the wall, his grip tight on one arm to keep you standing as he searched around the small walkway. His eyes landed on a table in the corner filled with photo portraits. He was dragging you to it, his free arm knocking over everything on the table before he effortlessly hoisted you onto it. 

He kissed you again as he tore your jeans off your legs all the way, along with your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him to be forgotten. Your shaky hands focused on his clothes next, shoving his jacket off his shoulders and reaching down to unbuckle his belt. His hands joined yours, since you were taking too fucking long fumbling around with his zipper. He shoved his jeans down his thighs just enough, not bothering to take them off all the way. Parting from his lips, you attempted to pull his bloodied shirt over his head, desperately craving to feel his skin. He didn’t deny you, his shirt getting tossed along with his jacket somewhere. 

You didn’t stop him when he pushed you on your back, body flat on the surface and your legs dangled over his torso. Your slick cunt was on full display for him, and he very much appreciated the visual of his doing. He leaned down the slightest bit, forcing your knees to damn near touch your chest as he freed his cock from his boxers. He exhaled sharply, his neck craning to the side as he held back the deep urge to just shove his cock inside you. 

His eyes met yours for a second, a shit eating grin on his face before he looked down to watch as his cock slowly sank into you, disappearing inch by inch within your tight walls. Your jaw fell open, a silent cry leaving you at the sting of his cock. A curse left your lips, eyes screwed shut as you dug your nails into the wooden table beneath you. 

“So fuckin’ tight. Fuck.” He grunted, the sound settling deep within his chest. His pace was grueling from the start, the second he was inside you he was drilling into you. He watched your face with big eyes, lips slightly parted as he reveled in your pain. ”I wanted it so bad. Thought about splitting this pussy wide fuckin’ open all night. Fuck.” 

Sobs spilled from your lips, a string of uh-uh-uh’s filling the empty house. You tried to crawl up the table, give yourself some room from his rough hips at first, but he didn’t particularly appreciate you trying to run away from him. He used his body weight to keep you pinned to the table as he leaned over your body further, his chain now dangling over your face as if to mock you further. 

“Aw, is my cock too much? You can’t take it? You asked for it,” he spat the word accompanied by a particularly sharp thrust that made you cry out. “Please Frank, it hurts.” He mocked your voice, his face above yours. He brought a hand to squeeze your cheeks between his fingers as you nodded tearfully. But you couldn't bring yourself to even try to tell him to stop, let alone try to run away this time, ultimately the pain coursing through you dissolving into blissful pleasure. “Good. I hope it fuckin’ hurts. That’s what a slut like you deserves.” 

With each spiteful word he spat, the intensity of his actions increased. But god did it feel absolutely delicious to be railed this way. You had never felt this way before. So intensely consumed by pleasure and pain that you cried. Tears fell from your eyes just as freely as sobs of pleasure fell from your lips. Frank was more than happy to hear them all. He fucking reveled in it. His lips pulled into a mocking pout at the sight of your tears, but the sight only made his cock twitch. He leaned down to your face, tongue sticking out to lick your tears.

You were shocked, eyes wide and mouth open, but you were more shocked at yourself, at the fact that you liked it. You were covered in blood, not even your blood, he was covered in blood, everyone else was dead and yet here you were, taking his cock like that was your only concern in this world. And the worst part was, you didn’t even mind it all that much. “Ugh, fuck. This is so fucked up.” The words left your lips in a haze, an unconscious thought as your back lifted off the table, a burning heat settling deep within you. You didn’t expect him to hear you. But how could he not? He laughed, his forehead pressed to your wet cheek.

“But you don’t want me to stop, do you?” He pulled back to look at your face, head tilted at you as his hand fell to your neck and his fingers gripped your throat, but he didn’t quite squeeze. He grinned at the way your eyes rolled back as you shook your head as best as his grip allowed you to. “So much for not wanting my hand on your throat.” 

He mocked you once again, laughing at the irony. He remembered your words from much earlier in the night--I swear if you put your hand on my throat next I will cut it off. A twisted smile formed on his lips at the thought, his fingers tightening around your throat. He wondered if you still had your switchblade on you. Would you stab him if he squeezed too hard? He would probably enjoy it if you did. 

You weren’t sure when the air started to leave your lungs, or when the room started to spin. You were dizzy, blood rushing to your face as his fingers dug into your neck. You weren’t sure what you felt more, the bruising around your throat or his cock bruising your cervix. Either way, the feeling was unbearable, overwhelming. You could feel consciousness start to leave you, your chest heaving with panic. Would he keep fucking you even if you passed out? You guessed it wouldn’t matter too much to him if you did. All you were hoping for is that you didn’t pass out before your release. Your pulse slowed, he could see it. It amused him to watch the way your heartbeat slowed, your face untwisting as you slowly slipped. His fingers released your throat, a loud gasp leaving your lips as your head spinned. 

“Fuuck—God—Fu—” breathy incoherent words spilled from your lips, your thoughts blurred as you came. The thought of someone pushing your limits to such extreme, it pumped adrenaline through your veins, rushed dopamine through your fucked up brain. You clung to him, nails dragging down his back as you turned into a shaking, sobbing mess. 

“The fuck was that? Shit, did you just come?” Frank asked, a laugh of disbelief leaving him as he looked down to see his cock glistening with your release as he slipped in and out of you with ease.

“Mhm!” You nodded, only a high pitched noise leaving you, too incoherent and cock-drunk to even form a thought. You expected him to slow down at some point, for his relentless movements to falter, but somehow the thought of you falling apart without even so much as a warning got him going even more.

“Who the fuck said you could do that, hm?” He spat, a grunt leaving him as he rutted his hips against you. The sting of his cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your cervix. You whined, attempting to ground yourself with a grip on the table. You could hear the frail wood creak under you. 

“Frank—” You warned him, attempting to sit up to take some weight off the table, but it didn’t make much of a difference, the small table finally breaking under Frank’s harsh movements. You expected to hit your head on the ground, and you braced yourself for it, but you only felt the impact on your back. 

One of Frank’s hands held the back of your head, cradling it almost, the other was braced on the floor as he tried to take as much of the impact as possible. You heard him laugh next to your ear and you groaned, cursing at him under your breath.

“Motherfucker, I’m not a goddamn ragdoll.” You groaned, wincing softly as you lifted your back off the broken wooden chunks beneath you.

“Shit, my bad. I’ve never fucked while being a vampire, alright? I don’t know how this shit works.” He shrugged, unbothered as his cock still sat hot and heavy inside you. He looked at you, eyes playful as his lips curved into a grin. “You okay?”

“Uh yeah, think so.”

“Good. Up you go then.” You didn’t have time to ask him what he meant, before your brain could process it, he was moving you both around. He sat on the back of his knees as he sat you on his lap. Not that you would do much up there, but he figured it’d be less painful than the hard cool floor. 

He wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you against his chest. He grabbed your face with his other hand, pulling you to meet his eager mouth as he snapped up his hips. He swallowed the sound he enticed from your throat as your body bounced in his grip. You threw your arms over his shoulders, holding on to him for dear life as he split you open with his cock—again. You couldn’t believe you already wanted to come again, shameless sobs spilling from your throat as your chest heaved, heart pounding so loud you swore you could hear it. Were vampire pheromones a thing? Not that you could actually think of anything right now, not with how good he was making you feel. 

“Oh, I know what that means. You wanna come again, huh?” He grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers how he liked to do. You were nodding, eyes big and watery with tears. He found it so amusing how easily he could make you go from all talk and attitude to pathetic and fucked out. And deep down, you liked it, too. It was often exhausting to pretend all the time. “Oh, I know, baby. I want you to come all over my cock again.”

And it wasn’t a request, he slipped his hand between your bodies and your head fell on his shoulder, gasping softly when pressed his thumb to your swollen clit. You didn’t have to think too hard, the painful stretch of his cock was enough, but the second he played with your clit you were done for. You were sobbing as your third orgasm hit you, tears spilling from your eyes once again.

“Aw, well aren’t you a good girl? C’mere, look at me,” his hand left your sensitive clit to lace around your hair forcing your head up. His eyes were on yours, tongue licking over his razor sharp teeth as he fucked you through your high, now chasing his own. “You want me to fill you up? That’s what you wanted, right? Just wanted me to take you and use you like some whore? Well you better fuckin’ take it like one.”

His name fell from your lips quietly, almost pleading as he forced your head to the side, exposing your neck to him, your ripped up shirt long forgotten in the mindless dance of clothes. You knew what devious thought was in his head, and like you read his mind, he sunk his teeth into your flesh. A strained whine left your throat, your fingers digging into his back as he savored your blood. He groaned, riveting in the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock as he fed. And it was that sweet taste of your blood that made him fall apart. A deep grunt settled in his chest as he spilled inside you, only releasing your shoulder when he felt his release seep out of your cunt.

A shaky gasp left your lips when he let go, a feeling of relief sitting on your chest when he didn’t suck you dry. You had fully expected him to feed until your body was lifeless. Ultimately he had already fucked whatever this was out of his system. But he didn’t. He gave you no time to comment on this, without a word he kissed you, your blood still coating his mouth. 

“Ugh, Jesus,” you grimaced, blood now coating your lips. He smirked at you, lips parted to flash you his teeth as he took in the way your face twisted in disgust. Still tangled up in each other, still clinging to him on his lap, you watched as swiped his finger over the streak of blood dripping from your shoulder. And your eyes never left him as he savored the taste of you, his chest rising and falling with delight. A strange feeling sank in your chest as your senses returned to you, and you suddenly felt painfully self-aware. “Are you going to finish feeding off me now that you got what you wanted?”

“You truly are a dumb little girl, huh?” He mocked you, laughing softly, a second laugh erupting from his chest at the way you narrowed your eyes at him with a glare. “If I had wanted to kill you I would have. You’re not the only pussy in this city y’know.”

“You are such an asshole.” You rolled your eyes, the intimacy and the slight bit of vulnerability in the moment slipping from you, and you aimed to get up, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed and flustered. But he didn’t allow you to. He kept his arm on your torso and he gripped your face between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“And you’re a fuckin’ brat. Now that we have established that, I think we can come to an understanding. We’re the only ones left for a reason, so let’s take advantage of that, yeah? If you let me, I’ll take care of you.” 

You wouldn’t mind that. You wouldn’t mind that at all. You were an adrenaline junkie afterall, and what could be more adrenaline inducing than fucking a new-turned vampire?

“I think we could figure something out.”

[urlocaldesertdweller]

Florist! Venture x Reader

Credited and inspired for yours truly! @valneeds, they were the ones who came up with the idea of Florist! Venture and I only wanted to write a little something to cope after hearing the news of Venture not getting a skin until SEASON 14 (WTF BLIZZARD?)

im obsessed with the listener x yapper btw, can u tell.? also this IS A TWO IN ONE FIC WITH STORY AND HEADCANONS, the headcanons AFTER the story!

To be honest, flowers were never your kind of thing... Whether used to celebrate or to mourn with they'd never last. You'd of course not wanting to be rude would always expect a bundle of flowers from your family during family gatherings. Still, you'd always feel bad for the short lifetime of the flowers because you know they would always work even with water. Their main life source was already pruned off for mere eye candy and momentary celebration.

Or maybe you were looking too deep into some damn flowers.

But what you do know is that a cute little shop was seeming about to open real soon around near your neighborhood a small block away. To be frank, you liked flower shops more than the actual flowers themselves. And this one was like no other.

You peered into the glass like a child looking into a candy store, you knew how weird you'd look if you were staring into an open shop but this was closed of course. Your eyes pass the empty fridges to look at the cute warm color scheme of pastel yellows and oranges. Small and simple flower designs around the top of the walls. It all looks so comforting and reminds the feeling of a distant grandmother's cozy home.

Finally, you peel away from the glass to which you glance at the wooden door. The small pane of glass also fits the theme with small hints of stained glass. Reading the hung sign which was written in fancy but readable cursive tells all of the opening and closing times.

"Sloan's Seasons, Flora Arrangement and Personal Bouquets"

You mutter glazing the times then quickly realizing that the cute shop opens early tomorrow. With a brow raised staring at the times for tomorrow once more before finally stepping back and returning to your walk. You thought it was ironic of yourself that you weren't much of a flower person yet you mentally remember the time of which one opens the next morning.

...

You were willing enough to wake up early to check out the shop. It was a wee bit chilly for the average mourning but the walk back towards the shop quickly warmed you up. Waking up this early was worth it for the sunrise shining in between the cracks of your small town returning a lost feeling you'd never felt you could feel again.

Your legs barely ache as you meet up at the same small shop once more only to find it much different compared to yesterday. The once empty and bare shop was nearly stuffed full of all kinds of flora and filler greens. You are tempted to stay out and stare once more until you not only remember that the shop is open but a person is sitting at the counter which seems to look busy enough to not notice you gape your mouth like a fish.

A bell rings and echos through the room catching what seems to be the owner of this shop, assuming Sloan if that makes sense.

"Hiya! Welcome to my shop, first customer!"

The owner perks up chipper for this early day, you swear they waved you nearly jumping from their chair which is cast aside now. You only nod with a smile as they watch you eagerly as if they are waiting for you to ask for something. Ah, the fresh jitters of starting a small business.

Their stare almost encourages you to move around pretending to know what you are looking at. As you move towards some greenery to check out, they stand seeming to lean over the counter.

"Are you big on flora friend.?"

They snort, chuckling as they correct themselves.

"Well duh, Sloan! Why else would they be in this shop.?"

Well, that solves the small mystery, they are Sloan. You can't help but chuckle at their small antics. Sure you didn't like arranged flowers but surely you could let this owner open you up. The tension you felt with yourself towards this shopkeeper melts away with their friendly and positive banter.

"Ah, so you are Sloan? This is a really beautiful shop by the way!"

You step forward ignoring the kinds of flora and get closer to the counter, they look brighter than the sun to be running this shop on their first day.

"Oh yeah, that's me! Sloan minus the "Seasons" of course!"

They chuckle as they brush their shoulder off clearly proud of their joke. Maybe it's the contagious smile they give but you snicker along with them. For once your eyes actually stay on them instead of keeping them glued towards the cozy decor of the shop.

"Well going back on the flora talk. I'm actually not too big on flowers n stuff..."

You confess to them, somehow feeling bad that you are telling a florist that you don't like flowers.

You watch their face turn from one of still chuckling to one of slight surprise, and clearly in thought then they are quick to smile snapping their fingers.

"...Well are you confirming that's a challenge.? Because I love a good one.!"

It's your turn to be surprised as you are confused but also inspired by their undying optimism.

"...Wait excuse me-?"

"I promise you I can make you overturn your minor dislike for flowers into a small passion! Hell, since you came just after I opened, it's on me for the challenge!"

Their eyes gleam, and also seem to be hopping behind the counter unable to contain the excitement.

"Free flowers? That seems more of a loss on your part though."

It feels like your brain slows down unable to see the non-existent profit they wouldn't even make. You don't understand feeling like this is a sudden pop-up ad online that only leads to scams.

"Yes! I Sloan am determined to make you like flowers after I complete my first personal Boquete with you! Now."

They hide from the counter popping back out with a clipboard in hand and hand pen in the other, they click and smile.

"What's your name? My lovely customer!"

"...It's (Y/n)."

"Lovely name for an even lovelier face!"

...You honestly dont know what to do feeling your face flush a little at the sudden compliment. Sloan giggles writing down your name clearly enjoying your reaction. You ask yourself if the flower shop is just a plot to flirt with other people, and you avoid their gaze by looking at the decor that got you in here in the first place.

They ask a bunch of simple but slight personal questions and they swear on their heart that it's to figure out what kind of flora and greenery will fill out the blanks.

"...And we are finished!"

They finally lay down the clipboard on the counter to which they start to walk around the counter.

"Really.? And you are supposed to somehow know what kind of flowers fit my personality.?"

You can't help but ask it jokingly skeptical that someone would be able to match a handful of flowers to a certain meaning or personality to which Sloan side-eyes you with a small grin before putting on a small apron and gloves.

"That's for me to think about, besides. It's just some flowers! Which actually begs the question, why don't you like flowers.?"

You turn around to watch them stuff several bunches of flowers into their surprisingly beefy arms, they keep their eyes on you curious.

"Oh. That's the thing, I love flowers! It's nothing too serious but I prefer them when I know they aren't going to die after being prepared for an arrangement or Boquete, yknow.?"

They turn around the aisle to pick up a few bunches of greens.

"That makes sense."

They quiet down clearly in thought, not from your response but from something else. You figure to ask them the same question back.

"Well, what about you then.? Why do you like flowers, Sloan?"

This takes them out of their odd silence to which they quickly perk up with a toothy smile, they walk behind the counter with everything in their arms before settling them down on the working block. The smell of everything almost makes you sniffle and sneeze.

"I love flowers for a ton of reasons! Not only are they beautiful and smell amazing...well most of them do. Every single one holds a crap ton of secret meanings!"

They start to ramble clearly happy to talk about one of their biggest passions. You shift on your legs getting tired of standing but you keep up and lean on the counter enjoying the mountain of reasons why Sloan likes flowers so so much.

"It's like a poem for any kind of situation! All it takes is a little knowledge for even a handful of flora with specific meanings!"

With skillful hands they pick out the best flowers in only the perfect condition and snip away to size, you look away and keep your eyes on Sloan. They keep on talking which you don't mind at the slightest, feeling yourself lean your chin on a propped elbow.

"Yeah, I always kind of forget that flora can have all of those cool and small details most people never know about!"

"Yeah, you get it! And people think that all flowers only have good meanings which isn't always the case. I have seen my fair share of revenge bouquets, which are full of flowers with awful meanings!"

You both share a chuckle, you feel time pass talking to Sloan. Before you know it they are already finishing up the final touches of your arrangement which you have to amidst look beautiful. Maybe it looked more beautiful watching Sloan make it in front of you while having a pleasant yapping conversation. The topic eventually changes to off-topic matters, getting more personal.

"And besides flowers, I actually really like Archeology and the history of the ancient human generations!"

"Heh, that's quite a jump from ancient history to flowers. But I can totally see you dig that! Why didn't you do it.?"

They begin to tightly wrap up your flowers as they perk up from the question. This conversation has already been going down beyond the professional business banter so they answer with ease.

"Ah, it was mainly money problems. Along with me mainly just want to start out slow...for now with this flower business! But most likely in a few quick years, I'll find myself with the Way-Finders soon enough!"

You can't help but feel inspired by their determination to eventually get into their dream job as a professional archeologist. You eventually notice that Sloan was ringing you up for free of course. A moment of silence is shared between the two of you. It's clear that neither of you want to end this conversation but you both are aware that they have a small business to get running and you have, whatever you do.

"Well know, these look absolutely beautiful, Sloan!"

They hand you the flowers taking in a whiff of all of the pollen and aromas being mixed together. Sloan scratches the back of their head clearly bashful and hands you a business card, you are slightly confused but you shake hands.

"And hey! If I'm not busy and you wanna talk, I'll be here..."

They mouth but their voice barely whisper goes "Call me!". This makes you giggle then you realize that they point at the card. You flip it ignoring the business number to see that they have written their personal number in pen with a smiley face.

You wave them away as you also mouth, "I will, good-looking!". Then you exit feeling all giddy inside knowing that you most likely made them all flustered with your own comment. The sun was already in the middle of the sky, and you thought that it was funny of you to spend more than just your morning in a flower shop, but what the hell you got a number from a cute person. And you were almost sure that they threw in some kind of flower with some sort of romantic meaning under your nose...

(you thought I was done? HEADCANNONS to add more romance<33)

-When you finally get into a relationship with them they still get all flustered whenever you do anything remotely romantic towards them during work.

-They'll get all hot and tug on the collar of their shirt fasten their apron if they are wearing one and try their hardest to keep their business face for the customers.

-Every time you enter the store you KNOW that you are already going to get either a a huge discount or just get them for free. Of course, they only do this when other customers are not around to feel unequal.

-If you ever help them out with their work, whether for that posting up posters around the block, helping them deal with difficult costumes, or hell you just help them run the business. Heart eyes swooning over you all the more!

-They also have a small garden from above the shop to which they love to spend free time with you resting in the shade of the planted trees, star gazing in the night cuddling to sleep in each other's arms<3

-You are their stress toy after a rough day of work dealing with rough people. They tend to get a lil handsy after getting the green go with you of course, and golly they could feel themselves reaching heaven with you.

-They often gift you the most exotic flowers ever known to man. Or they send you the more simpler but beautiful flowers with their own messages being sent to you. It's like their version of writing love letters to you in the prettiest way!

-They DEFINITELY call you names of course! Ranging from both English to Spanish, it all stirs your stomach with butterflies. My rose, the light of my life, honeysuckle, sweet bee, honey, my orchid. Mi rosa, mi orquidea, la luz de mi vida, miel de abeja. Btw they shamelessly call you these names during work in front of customers, they live to see your face brighten up like a red rose!

-They would do ANYTHING to see you happy and well. They love you so much it's beyond the human mind how much they will and do love you!

Again thank you @valneeds !!!!

[alovesongtheywrote]

hi i just binged nightmare academia and i’m deeply deeply obsessed with you and your writing. it’s 2 am in the morning. (worth it)

♥ Summary: dkfhskdfj big thank you, that's genuinely such an honour- i really hope you like this chapter!! im posting it at 4 am bc night owl solidarity <3 In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, a community recuperates and Spencer comes back to you. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: gun violence, grief, hospitals, and mentions of alcohol

♥ A/N: fun fact: on the ao3 cross post, this chapter and the one after it are named after hozier lyrics. im a basic bitch, it's work song

♥ Word Count: 2297

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

There was a shooting near the community center.  

You weren’t there at the time.  You weren’t even close.  You were at home when it happened, and you were at home when you found out.  The little jingle for breaking news stories cut through the ambient sounds of a droning weather report, replacing it with something more intense than a report on the rain.

In an instant, images of the community center surrounded by police cars, wandering officers, and caution tape filled your screen.  You froze, blood turning to ice as you watched the police mill around your second place of work.  You could feel your extremities growing colder and colder as your mind slipped off into shock.  Someone had been shot.  Someone was hurt.  Part of your community was bleeding.

The rest of the broadcast sounded like static, but you got the gist.  Whoever was shot was in critical condition.  There was “no threat to the public.”  Police had already apprehended a suspect.

Before you could fully process what had happened, you were scrolling through the contacts on your phone.

Your first call was to the community center.  For once, it went straight to voicemail.  

Your second call went to Sheryl- the receptionist who shared a shift with you.  She was shaken, but alright, and she confirmed that all of the community center staff were in the same condition.  Scared, but okay.  Shocked, but alright.  They were going to be fine.  You thanked her, comforted her, and let her hang up first.

Your next call went to Missy.  She didn’t pick up.  You moved on, making a few other calls to a few other community center students, checking in on everyone you could.  

Frank did not pick up.  

Adam did not pick up.

Most of the others did.  Most of your students were freaked out, but fine.  Everyone seemed to be okay and alive, but you couldn’t get a hold of Missy, Frank, or Adam.  

You couldn’t fucking breathe.  You didn’t know if your friends were alive, or dead, or hurt, or arrested, or fine, and you were terrified.  The universe seemed to hold its breath as you gasped for air, spiralling as your horrible little brain dragged you through the worst possible scenarios.  

Funerals.  Hospitals.  Dead friends whose potential had been stolen from them far too fucking soon.  Courtrooms.  Cops.  Tunnel vision fallacies that got innocent people arrested.  Fuck.

Tears streamed down your cheeks.  You needed to call someone- not even for the wellbeing of your friends, but for the wellbeing of you.  You couldn’t tell if you were already having a panic attack, or if you were on the edge of one, and either way, you were not having a good time.  You needed help.  You needed someone to calm you down and get you to breathe like a functioning human person.

You thought about calling Reid.

Before you could scroll down to his contact, your screen lit up.  Missy was calling you.  You picked up.  Things only got worse from there.

Frank had been shot.  He’d been walking by the community center and someone had shot him.  A man in a dark jacket and a motorcycle helmet had shot him.  Missy didn’t see his face.

Frank was in the hospital.  In critical condition.  Maybe dying.

You got up and got ready to head to the hospital, floating through the motions as more information came to light.  You couldn’t feel your fingertips.

It wasn’t a random attack.  The assault was carried out with the precision of a hit.  

You didn’t know who would order a hit on Frank.  Neither did Missy.  True, he was a former inmate, true, he had once violated the law, but he hadn’t done anything that would make someone take a hit out on him.

The police thought Adam had done it.  Adam was near the community center.  He was in custody now.  He needed a lawyer.

“Do you think you can represent him, Doc?” you could hear the desperation in Missy’s voice.  You could feel it in your chest.  

“I uh-” you tried to clear your tear-filled voice.  You failed, “It’s a conflict of interest.  I was his teacher, recently, the prosecutor can use that against him if I try.  I can get help, though.  I have connections.”

“You’re gonna wanna hurry and send them out.  The cops were real rough with him, it’s not looking good.”

You cursed under your breath, shoving your shoes on and grabbing your keys, “I can sort it out from the hospital… I can- I can do that, right?” “If anyone can, it’s you.  Just get here soon.  Please,”  Missy’s voice got smaller and smaller as she spoke.

You broke traffic laws getting to the hospital.

-

Hospitals still fucking sucked.  They were often crowded, decently noisy, and overwhelmingly white.  You still hated hospitals, and if you could, you wouldn’t enter another one for the rest of your life.  

But that wasn’t an option.  Not for you.

You and Missy didn’t leave each other’s sides.  You couldn’t.  In the sterile environment of the hospital, you were each the other’s lifeline.  You both needed it.  You looked like the human embodiment of anxiety, and Missy the embodiment of grief.  Tears spilled down her cheeks, dragging tracks of mascara with them.  She curled into herself, into you, appearing small and fragile.  In the pull of a trigger, the strongest woman you knew became a precious breakable thing.  

She didn’t deserve this.  She didn’t deserve any of it.  And even though you also looked and felt like shit, you were glad you were there.  

The cops wouldn’t stop looking at the poor woman like she was another fucking suspect instead of a witness.  They looked away from her when she was with you.  She could focus on her grief when she was with you.  You were just happy to be there for her.

Over the phone, you arranged a legal defence for Adam.  You didn’t pull away from Missy to do it.  The two of you just sat in a blindingly white hallway, clinging to each other in a sea of sterility as you called in a couple of favours. 

Once situated, your lawyer friend called you to report that 1) the local police were really pissing them off, and 2) the case against Adam was weak, but not a guaranteed failure.  His history of incarceration and intrusive thoughts could be used against him- however, the nature of his past crimes, his friendship with Frank, and his work to improve his life could be used in his defence.

Overall, the case wouldn’t be too difficult to win.  Adam just needed character witnesses- ones that a jury would like and trust.  

You, a reputable university professor, could be one of them.  

You very quickly realized that Spencer, a notable FBI agent, could be another.

Missy urged you to call him.  She even gave you the decency of space.  She didn’t need to do either.  You were always going to call Spencer.

Of course, Spencer didn’t pick up the phone.  Pushing down the urge to just hurl your phone into the wall, you took a deep breath and left a message.  You hoped your voice wouldn’t betray how absolutely fucking shaken you were by the situation.  

It did.

“Hey, Reid.  I’m sorry, it’s been a while, I just… look, it doesn’t matter right now.  Something happened.  Things are bad, right now, and I uh.  I’m gonna need your help, if you can- if you want to help me,” you let out a shaky breath that sounded a little too much like a sob, “You know where I am.  I’ll see you.”

After you left your message, Missy looked at you with a shaky, watery smile.  You raised an eyebrow in question, and her smile just grew.

“You didn’t tell him what happened.”

“I know.  It’s uh, it’s a lot to tell someone over the phone.”

She let out a little laugh, “He’s gonna think you’re hurt or something.”

“Oh, shit-” you murmured, pulling out your phone to make another call.  

Missy put a hand on your arm, stopping you, “Don’t change it.  He might get here faster if he thinks that.”  

“You think so?”

“Oh, you are down bad.”

The two of you stood there in the hallway, and as you stared at each other’s tear-stained faces, you both started to laugh.  The sound morphed back and forward between pained sobs and wheezing laughter until the two of you were too tired to make another sound.

You stayed with Missy for another few hours.  Nobody would tell either of you a damn thing about Frank’s condition.  The two of you remained in place until a well-meaning nurse practically forced you to leave.  

You drove Missy home.  The car ride was silent.  You were both out of things to say.  For once, you were all cried out.  Missy was in a similar condition, dark mascara tracks still painted her cheeks.  She didn’t make a move to wipe them away.

It was in that silence that you pulled into a parking spot outside of Missy’s apartment- the one she shared with Frank.  

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’m… I’m gonna be something.”

“You can stay with me, if you want.  Just so you won’t be alone.”

She stared out at the building, at its golden lights glaring out into the velvety dark of the night, “I… I think I need to try being on my own.  Just for me.”

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, “Okay.  But please, call if you need anything.” She smiled over at you, “I just need you to get Adam out of this mess.  The sooner they stop looking at him, the better.”

“I know.  I’ll do everything I can, I promise.”

“I know you will.  Adam will be out in no time, eh?”

You offered her a little grin, “Do you want me to walk you in?”

“I’ll be alright-” she popped open her door, “But do you think you could give me a ride to the hospital tomorrow?  I just-”

“Of course.  Anything.” She gave your arm a pat and hopped out of the car, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doc.”

You just waved goodbye.  The last time you promised to see someone later, he disappeared from your life.  Now, he wouldn’t even pick up his phone.

You had to try really hard to avoid crashing on the drive home.  Tears blurred your vision.  Your breath came in sparse gasps.  You really should’ve pulled over, but you just wanted to be home.

You got there safely and spent the night alone.

-

The next day, you woke up early, took Missy to the hospital, and made your way to the university.  And then you had to spend the rest of the day acting like everything was normal and nothing was wrong.

It was a weird sort of hell- an inferno of your own creation.  You had spent the past few months pretending that everything was okay, acting like everything was fine.  Now you found yourself lost in the performance, drowning on the stage beneath the bright lights.

You had to give your lectures as if one of your students wasn’t rotting in a police department- like another one wasn’t in the hospital, suffering from a gunshot wound after being attacked by a mysterious assailant.  You had to act like you were a-okay with the knowledge that there was nothing you could do.

In other words, you had a terrible fucking day, and at the end of it, standing alone in your office, you had one thought.

There was wine in the trunk of your car.

-

The moment Spencer got your call, he ran back to that university town faster than he’d ever run in his life.  He could hear the fear in your voice over the phone.  He could hear a hospital monitor beeping over the phone.  

So he ran.  He ran as fast as he could trying to get back to you.  The closer he got the more dread he felt.  The closer he got, the more news stations reported on a shooting near your community center. 

It was only after he got back to that town that Spencer realized that he did not know where you lived.  

He tried the hospital, but you weren’t there.  Spencer wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.  The community center was closed, so you weren’t there either.  There was only one place left for you to go- and it didn’t make much sense after the message he’d gotten, but it was all he had left.

Your office was empty.  The lights were off and the door was locked.  Even the ghost wasn’t there.  Feeling dejected, Spencer wandered over to his office.  He was expecting to find it in the same condition as your office.  Abandoned.  Empty.  Untouched.

It was not that.  Someone had clearly been there recently.  The lights were on.  Someone was logged into the computer.  Even more damning, the bookshelves no longer contained the vast collection of books that he’d left behind.

They were full of smut.

Softcore smut.  Hardcore smut.  Monsterfucking smut.  Enemies to lovers smut.  That Fifty Shades parody that’s canon in the universe of Criminal Minds was notably absent, but that was about it exceptions wise.  

Spencer hadn’t done this.  He hadn’t filled the bookshelves with horny literature.  There was only one person who would.

“Spencer?”

Speak of the devil.  Reid turned, and there you were.  The world caught its breath, and the two of you suddenly felt less incomplete.  The black holes stopped eating your guts.  Spencer was right where he needed to be.

You were there, together, where you needed to be.

“Where the fuck did you come from?”

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know!!

[pineapple-psychic]

i made a pjo/psych crossover

thanks to @autism-criminal for enabling me

Shawn Spencer, son of Hecate

henry and hecate hooked up once; thinking maddie finds out and its part of the reason for the divorce

this means shawn has real psychic powers!! yay!!

because hes a child of a titan, not a god, less monsters came after him so he was doing good until 18, when he ran away

him and gus looked out for each other :] bc of course henry cant see the monsters (and didnt know abt camp halfblood)

Burton 'Gus' Guster, son of Apollo

because pharmaceuticals and the god of medicine

absolutely HATES snakes. worse than dead bodies

i think itd be really funny to give him both the natural healing and the plagues powers because that would give him such a crisis

gus tries to go to college, but without the additional protection its more dangerous so he doesnt finish before asking shawn for help

shawn tells him abt this camp he found and whoo! shawngus in new york! (ik santa barbara is The City on Psych but listen theyre in pjo now)

Carlton Lassiter, son of Ares

this is mostly because of his obsession with guns, landmines, and the civil war

basically the only ares kid who gets along with athena kids. probably wishes he was one

and of course he HATES magic because it doesnt make sense so bam instant rivalry with shawn

part of the reason he doesnt get along with his mother is because of being lied to about his parentage, cause his stepdad is a dick and he wouldve been glad to know they werent related

Juliet O'Hara, daughter of Athena

pissed off at her parentage. she loves athena but she hates knowing that shes related to frank and not her mom

gets along great w lassie cause he may be an ares kid but hes not incredibly stupid like most of them

hates spiders of course

she joined the camp rather early in her life, because frank knew about the camp and she wanted to get away from him. ironic huh

Chief Karen Vick, child of Athena

they left the camp when they could to become a police officer up to chief, then returned to help Chiron out as a co-camp director because Mr. D does absolutely nothing

this way them and juliet are half siblings :D

Woodrow Strode, unknown

kinda just showed up one day

no one knows if hes a demigod or like a sighted mortal but he is just there

lives in the woods

hangs around the hades cabin a lot because death. also the Vibes

Busby 'Buzz' McNab, son of Demeter

can you imagine him tending to the gardens?? all 6'7 of him??? yes

also because buzz. bees. plants. demeter

i have basically no notes on him sorry

anyway im so wise. take my word as law (joking. do not do that)

[gaybellethorn]

i started listening to the first shannon hale eah book on my walk earlier and it's so good. hale you mad bitch <3!!!!!!!

raven being a swiftie (taylor quick........obsessed) and apple being a directioner ("you don't know youre charming" in universe pointing to the real life charming family. CRAZY.)

apple keeping a basket of candy and coins at her bedroom balcony to throw down to her adoring masses PLEASEEEEE . all her kingdom management classes amassing to this she's so FUNNY.

relatedly, how frustrated she gets at the end of her first chapter that people are only gonna grade her on being a good snow white based on how pretty she is and not on how hard she's studying to be a good ruler. very very juicy very interesting characterisation very interesting take for a snow white character. but also. the chapter starts with her naming the dwarves by derogatory nicknames ("my name is frank," pouty said poutily) and the narrative itself superimposing her names onto them in the dialogue tags. SO FUCKING GOOD. APPLE YOU SILLY BITCH.

hale's distate for apple's dad bleeding into the description i looooove it. "keeping a hand on the hilt of his blade as if ready for battle at a moment's notice, but of course he had never been in battle. his only claim to fame was falling in love with a comatose woman in a glass coffin in the woods" damn hit him again for me!!!!!

BUT this coming from apple's pov???? EXQUISITE!!!!!! god that's so fucking INTERESTING and really doubles down on her looking up to her mam and wanting to be the best ruler she can be, because no one's gonna help her out later! i haven't gotten to apple interacting with daring yet, but that's gonna be such an interesting lens to read their relationship through as well if she considers his role in the story like. repulsive!

also just an interesting contrast to raven's relationship with her parents, where she loves her dad and wishes her mam wouldn't belittle him in their convo. oh sidebar there was a description like, raven's mam did love her, in her own way. hope was like a sticky syrup and raven wished she could drink it down just one more time. auggghhh ravennnn :( <33333

back to apple, i liked the little detail about snow having this squeaky high pitched voice, and apple musing that being stranded in the woods with the squirrels may have done a number on her. i think she gives a length of time there, either weeks or months? i hadn't considered that being part of the snow white legacy, that's interesting ! especially after thinkng of her dad as a useless bum ass nobody like 😭

looooove getting raven's introspection around her mam. the mirror scene at the start is so so good. ugh then when she's talking to apple and she notices how slouchy and unkempt she is next to her. and she tries standing properly but she knows she comes off as too tall, too gaunt comparatively. and then she reprimands herself like 'stop comparing yourself to her, that's probably how mom turned out the way she did' AUGH ? that being the first indicator that raven can understand how that path unfurls in front of her, how she could easily take those same steps. sooo juicy

also looove her relationship with baba yaga so far. it's really interesting that baba yaga is compared/contrasted to raven's mam, i wanna keep an eye on how that relationship develops

baba yaga using an actual spray bottle on raven when she starts voicing rebel thoughts PLEASE‼️ raven grumpily looking into the princess' advisor office (run by the white queen! cute detail) where theyre given tea and plush chairs and noticing that there isn't a spray bottle in sight. MWAH.

oh ! and the detail about it being maddie who asks raven point blank "if you weren't destined to be the evil queen, you would...?" as part of this wonderland word game that she doesn't think anything more of, but raven is left speechless because she's never been allowed to consider it before. really sweet moment between them! :)

im like an hour into this 6.5hr audiobook. the voice actor is doing a wonderful job, i really like her voices for raven and apple in particular so far. i definitely wanna keep going on it! i will listen to it on walks i think :^)

[bizarrescribblez]

um um.. v.enture b.ros/vbros frankbun au because i cant go one minute without making everything about my new ship im obsessed with.. >_< anyways yall prob know about my vbros insert already, and basically we’re like b.atman + commissioner g.ordon FRANKS STILL A DETECTIVE SO I HELP HIM WITH CASES :)) (and vampirism angst happens down the line but i will not go off about that YCFGDF)

[idiotmaggot]

Adorable frank collage wallpaper that I made 🥰

[punisherdefender]

Im so in love with Frank that if I could dedicate a song to him it would be Impacto by Enjambre. Every damn time I listen to it it reminds me of him, I'm going crazy

[lethalsubject]

on the cards today.... frank down right refusing to fight captain america bc of how much respect he has for him ik this blog is mainly punisher max based but i think it still stands.... bc i said so. and i jst wanna talk abt it bc i love frank

BUT!!

frank isn't ever one to back down from a fight. its rare he ever thinks he cant win, and even if the odds are stacked against him he'll fight tooth and nail until he does win (at some point i'll go into the whole 'he's chosen by death' thing bc im obsessed w it but not now).

no matter what, steve rogers is one of the only people he will always refuse to fight. who he wont even lift a finger against.

for one, because he knows no matter how battered he gets, steve won't kill him - which is one of the reasons frank respects him.

but steve rogers stands for everything frank had once believed. frank WAS steve at one point, when he first joined the military.

but cap is everything frank knows he can never be. everything he'd once wanted to be, before he fell into the hellish depths of his debilitating craving for combat. frank joined the military because he shared similar ideals with cap - he was a man with an innate sense of justice and patriotism. but the things he did, and started to enjoy doing, soon changed him to a man who simply lived for the fight. who lived for war. who came to view a warzone as more of a home than the one he shared with his wife and kids. he was trained to be a predator, and a predator he became.

frank himself has likened what he does to that of a serial killer - referring to himself a 'glorified' serial killer that kills only to satiate his bloodlust, and not to make any actual difference in the world. any change that comes from his killing just so happens to be a byproduct of his chosen demographic to slaughter. yes, he does care for women and children and those affected by thing such as human trafficking -

- but he'll be the first to admit they arent the sole reason he does what he does. again, helping them just a 'happy' byproduct of him choosing to kill the worst of the worst people. if he hadn't gotten so enamoured and obsessed with killing he would not be doing what he's doing.

and it's what makes steve a far better man than him. he does what he does because he CARES for people. he doesn't kill, he doesn't maim, he doesn't take pleasure in killing. not like frank does. because frank craves it. he needs it like he needs air.

[fuck-i-like-too-much-stuff]

15 Day BL Challenge- Day 5

Biggest Flop- I Actually Can't Decide

[Original Challenge Here]

In my definition of flop, it means that the show did not match, let alone exceed, the expectations I had set for it by a huge margin.

When it comes to what I watch, maybe its because I am pretty good at filtering out things that don't match my vibe or maybe I just haven't been here for all that long- but I haven't yet watched a show that hasn't given me what I expected from it by that much.

That being said, there have been shows that are so hyped by everyone, and i found myself never liking them as much as them.

That being said, i am not hating on these shows, and may change my opinion if feel like rewatching

Boss and A Babe: I love Force and Book as actors, and i do think they nailed their roles but the story was sooo weakly built and didn't know how to deal with the themes it touched on at all. The ASMR thing Cher did, which was the premise of this show in the first place wasn't touched beyond bringing them together in the beginning. Tyme's betrayal and the whole stealing of ideas wasn't given half the attention it should've gotten. The discussion of themes about depression, sexual abuse, and homophobia were touched upon in the most speed run way of things, giving nothing enough importance to actually become centric to the story. The couple themselves were okay, and the chemistry was there only because Force and Book had it, but honestly they became borderline weird. I didn't find this series worth remembering, but when i started it, i didn't think i would either.

Love In The Air (but only the PhayuRain episodes): Look. Before anybody comes for me, hear me out. These two have great irl chemistry, and im excited for Boy Next World... but Phayu and Rain are ragingggg red flags and its to the point where I do not care that they can cancel each other out. I just don't. You don't fuck with your crushes car just so they'll ask you for help when they get stuck in the rain. You don't play with consent like that unless you've both pre-agreed to it. Please do not pull the stunts these two decided were okay without a word with each other. Even if you're both into it. CONSENT MATTERS AND DO NOT DAMAGE OTHER PEOPLE'S POSSESSIONS JUST TO HAVE THEM PAY ATTENTION TO YOU. COMMUNICATION EXISTS FOR BOTH OF THOSE.

That being said, Prapai and Sky managed to make it through my criteria and I love them dearly. Just can't ever say the same for Phayu and Rain.

2gether (but not Still 2gether): I can hear my girlfriend fuming as I type this because this is one of her all time favourite shows. And I can agree with what she says, its about the nostalgia of early BL days and the sorta funny jokes that make you roll your eyes but still laugh. That being said, the first season is riddled with the fact that the premise makes zero sense, the bromantic chemistry is questionable at best and the raging question that how the fuck is Tine gonna become a lawyer when he can't even defend himself from a dude hitting on him??

This show definitely does not live up to the name it carries being the most popular Thai BL, but it is not the worst. It is what it is according to the time it was made in, and the second season is actually cute. And of it gave me Drake and Frank, with whom I'm obsessed despite the tragedy.

Middleman's Love: Respectfully- GET A FUCKING GRIP OVER REALITY AND A CONTROL OVER YOUR VOLUME. That's all I have to say here.

[aromanticgarbage]

h3h3 said that joji ghosted him after he got famous, ian says they don't talk anymore too. I wonder if max was the only one he was really close with or maybe they just recently reconnected.

Ok that's a tricky topic of conversation. Read more because as always i cannot shut up.

H3h3 and iddubz don't really mean anything to me outside of their old filthy frank collabs. I actually actively dislike them. Yeah you read that right. Thats why ive tried to make the fact that i am NOT running a cancer crew blog here clear. I just hate iddubz's old solo content. Seeing him beat himself up online nowadays isn't great either but by god his old stuff is so so bad (to me). Internet drama and borderline hate speech is a recipe for disaster and if he was smarter he would have seen this coming. I understand that some people like his older stuff out of nostalgia but i am not affected by this. I was not into YouTube back then. Im still not into YouTube. I only know of him and h3h3 because im obsessed with their old homie. My perspective is different, these people barely mean anything to me.

Ok now, disclaimers aside. Ethan said that joji told him not to call him filthy frank when he was talking about his music and he personally interpreted that as him being embarrassed of his past. Personally its just clear to me that what joji was asking for when he was taking his first steps as a full time music artist was space. Being known as an ex youtuber can kill someones career and considering the sort of content he was making as ff it just doesn't seem weird to me that he wanted to separate the two lol. He gave countless interviews where he mentioned his old content and that he understood why people found it so hard to move on from such an iconic character but that he didn't like conflating the two. And even then, a few years later he was encouraging fans at his concerts to chant filthy frank so i cant help but feel like Ethan's assumption that he is embarrassed and trying to forget it ever happened is baseless and biased. And after that....well. Its pretty clear to me that h3h3 used to be enjoyed by people but its had a pretty obvious dowfall since then. Idc about Ethan's drama (or the man himself for that matter) but to be completely honest i wouldn't keep in contact with him either. Idk if you are one of those people who still enjoy his podcast but to me and to many others it just seems bad. Real bad. A lot of drama and too little substance.

Now Ian...Ian is definitely less clear to me as an outside observer. I may not like ~the old iddubz~ but joji obviously didn't have a problem with him. They always seemed to get along pretty well on all the behind the scenes and going through the cake trilogy together probably means that they developed something similar to a warriors bond. He was fun on their collabs. But alas, sometimes people who used to be close just stop keeping in touch. A lot of Joji's old college friends (pookie/david, the shaman/lewys, wheelz/tyrell) are no longer in contact with him and yet they all speak of him very highly. People online like to act like he somehow ""betrays his roots"" by not keeping up with people he collaborated with on youtube back in the day but youtube isn't his roots lmao. His high school and middle school japan friends have always clearly been very important to him and he never fell out off touch with them. He is often touring alongside Rei Brown and he has mentioned in interviews that he relies on these friendships on his day to day life (admittedly the interview im talking about was from 2018 but there's no reason to assume that he has suddenly stopped talking to people that he has been friends with since he was like 12 years old). At the end of the day he doesn't owe people online to keep in contact with anyone. People grow up and change and not all relationships survive the test of time. And thats okay. Stuff happens, people move on. For what its worth tho, i feel like iddubz's drama driven channel (because lets be fair the content cops were his biggest thing and they were youtube drama no matter how self righteous or fair they seemed at the time) didn't help. The thing about joji is that he had always avoided internet drama like it was the plague, which is once again one of those things that i appreciate deeply about him. I hate internet drama. But even my kinda biased opinion aside, the reality of the situation is probably very simple. They are both grown adults who live very different lives. They hanged out together during a few summers a lot of years ago. They followed different paths in life. It happens. Joji has been very offline for years now and i get the impression that he tends to isolate himself when his health acts up so its probably not that hard to fall out of touch with him.

And last but not least....Max. I won't lie, out of the cancer crew the only other person i actually like besides my man Joji is Max. Maybe he really was closer with Max, i certainly find him more likable. Around 2018 both Joji on twitter and Max on that one cold ones podcast episode said that they still keep in touch. Max was replying to a lot of Joji's tweets up untill the nectar era but once again, at the end of the day they live in different countries. I obviously have no way of knowing if they were still as close as they used to in the following years. Maybe they grew more distant for a while, maybe they reconnected around 2023 when joji took chad and max backstage at his concert, and then of course the wedding !! Its all very sweet, the gimme love Max and Chad video from the concert lowkey made me tear up.

But once again, at the end of the day they are all living their own lives, doing their own thing. And people who act like they owe it to them to be each others everything forever and ever because they met online a decade ago and collaborated on some extremely iconic videos make me laugh.