#just to be. clarity. ok bye!

[candycryptids]

It's my birthday today (6/14) so I get to be mindlessly and shamelessly self-indulgent and pose myself with my speece's characters Kizuna and Setsuna Shader is I think from [Kore - Pearl's Dream] but I might be wrong, I downloaded that shader before I realized I should make creator folders so I'm not 100%

Kizuna is @zombiesockfuckinglovescardfight Also Sir Cash is here ;v; (the dog)

[hazelcephalopod]

Alright im gonna give another take on why the Wildmother prefers(?)/likes to communicate with just vibes. She’s just a low verbal autistic god woman. That’s all. Talking is hard, it takes a lot of effort and she’s needs a longer nap after doing it for a long time. Even as Asha she preferred telepathy.

[danishdeity]

Yesterday an old lady literally stopped her car in the middle of the road, beckoned me over, and demanded to know why I had just given my dog a treat. I said I was encouraging him to learn proper traffic behaviour (not crossing the street without me telling him to). She then scolded me for giving my dog too many treats. She had seen me give him one. What the fuck dude

[ayyponine]

girl help im going back n forth on whether or not i should send an email to thank the beautiful man fr letting me join the drawing session last week (more info on that entire situation here and here) and letting him know i probably wont be back but appreciate having had the experience either way. great or horrible idea leave a comment or DM to lmk.

[stans-kissing]

I DEBATED posting this cuz its kinda rough but um TW NONCON!!! harcore stle But uughghhjmmm i been thinking about this one quote "i'll make you a victim if you really want to be one." with stancest. i gave you guys two fluff ish posts so now i have to hit you with the dark shit sorry baby

like… hhghgng… idk what time this would rake place i think id make more sense w paranoid ford but i relayly like to think of it when ford first comes back, hes still mad at all hell at stan and like.fucking hates his guts and blames everything on him. also kidna a personal headcanon but i think bc of his experiences in the multiverse and eevrything he has really bad episodes where hess just in like fits of blind rage or like sobbing in the corner no inbewtween tknow s olike And he was also sexually abused by their father that stan never knew about. thats important here too.

anyways when he sees stan and idfk mayeb they get into an argument or soething and ford just loses it. maybe theyre aguing about stan getting kicked out and stan says smth like You left me to fend for myself!! do you even know what i had to do to survive!! and ford fucking snaps because what the fuck does stan know about suriving his life was fucking hell when stan left because his protector was gone and fords father had a whhoooole lot of anger and a son that looked a lot like the guy who caused it and then ford also had to go through everything with bill and with the portal and yeah you get it and thast when he says "you dont know the first fucking thing about suriving stanley, you want to be a victim so bad. hwo about i make you one?" or something like that and then ford has him pinned to the floor before stan can even fight back and we all know ford can overpower stan (refrencing when ford gets oiut of portalh e pins stan dpwn ok thats my proof) and stan is yelling and protesting and sos someone say that boy

but ford is long gone, turned into a picture of their father as he forces stan to relive everything ford went to, growling and snarling about how stans a fucking idiot who doesnt understand what true struggles are, how he has no idea what ford couldve gone throuhg, how this is all hes good for, this is all he deserves. and to add another layer to this you could throw in the idea that stan was also sexuallity abused by their dather, and ford just didnt know so not only is he gettinf r4ped by his brother, hes alspo being sent back in time to when his fatehr would do this to him. yeah hes going through it

idk anywasy time skip or something and ford finishes in stans ass and that is when he comes down and realizesOh my fucking god what have i done.oOhmgod oh my god im no better than our father if anything im worse i . oh mu god he is NOT okay. post nut clarity hits him like a TANK and he pulls out and stumbles away muttered half-assed "im sorry- imsorry-" because he cant breathe he cant talk he cant he cant he cant

and stan is just.. so terribly broken, cheeks flushed and wet this tears, throat sore from holding in his voice and yelling, shaking like a leaf and he cant even bring himseld to turn around and look at ford becuase he thinks he'll see his father standing there instead

thats all i got ok bye

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Dreaming and Drowning

This fic will fill my "Take a deep breath." square on my Hurt/Comfort, Sweet & Spicy Bingo card. The prompt will be bolded in the fic. @sweetspicybingo

Summary: Michael is fascinated by Y/N. She isn't the only thing keeping him inside his vessel, but she's a very interesting bonus. Now if only he can keep Dean quiet for long enough to conduct some experiments.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Nothing too terrible. Show level violence. Some descriptions of torture. Threatened/implied sexual assault/non-con (nothing shown or described). Depictions of drowning.

Pairings: Michael!Dean x Y/N and Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 2,579

A/N: I'm trying to work my way through my requests but I'm still back in last December! 😫 I'm sorry to everyone who's put in requests, I'm working on 'em!

Anyway, this request was for a "fatal attraction" Bingo square for a different bingo. It was from the lovely @elle14-blog1 who asked:

Hello Dear Been addicted to your page lately Love the Dean fics So about the Fatal Attraction request Maybe could you write soft dark fatal attraction of Michael Dean towards Dean’s Gf..one of the more reason he doesn’t wanna leave the vessel… Ok bye bye Xoxo💖

That space for that bingo was claimed already. But I really enjoyed this idea, so I said I'd do it another time. Well, here it is. I'm not sure if it's what you were looking for, I hope so. Hope everyone enjoys. This is the first time I've written anything for Michael!Dean, so be nice. 😁

Dean Winchester Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Every once in a while Dean swam to the surface; he broke through heavy, cloying water to suck oxygen into his starving, burning lungs.

But the water was choppy and rushing, the current swept him along at a feverish pace and he could never swim hard enough or fast enough to outrun it; inevitably the cold, gray water would submerge him again and leave him drowning.

But in those few moments of clarity, he’d see her. He’d see the way she was bound, he’d watch the way his hands pulled screams from her lungs. As the water rushed around his ears, it couldn’t drown out the way her voice begged him to stop.

Not me, he reminded himself.

It wasn’t him. This was Michael’s doing. Michael was hurting her.

And who let me in? His own voice would answer back, before shoving him back down under the water with a sneering laugh. 

We both know she’s here because of you, because she wanted to save you from me. So sweet. But who’s going to save HER from me.

Oops, I mean save her from you.

***

Michael watched Y/N struggle, a soft smile on his borrowed countenance; she really was rather extraordinary, this particular little ape. He’d tortured her slowly, nothing too drastic to start, he didn’t want to permanently alter her, not yet.

He was very interested in her, interested in the noises she made when she tried not to scream, in the way he could feel the air shift almost imperceptibly when she held her breath against the pain. He loved to watch the way involuntary goosebumps erupted across her skin when he ran a finger over it. 

How strange, he thought, to not be able to control something as basic as the texture of your skin.

The human body was rather fascinating, hers even more than most. She was so soft in places, her skin bruised so easily, sometimes nothing more than a hard pinch brought a pretty purple stain to her skin. Harder blows bloomed blue and green almost immediately. Her blood ran dark red and tasted coppery with a hint of something more tangy just below the surface.

Is that the difference of her psychic blood? He wondered.

It was why he’d taken her to begin with. He’d been experimenting with all kinds of monsters, and they were finally starting to pay off, but he’d never tried mixing his grace with a psychic, he thought the results might be very interesting. So when a memory had surfaced in Dean Winchester’s brain about his psychic girlfriend, he’d decided to let her find him.

She and Sam Winchester had been searching far and wide for him, for Dean. He could have easily outrun them forever. But he decided to stay put for a moment and let her catch up. All he’d had to do to lure her in was let the ghost of Dean shine through his eyes for a moment and she came running, desperate to help.

And just like that, she was trapped in his web. 

He’d spent the first few days just getting to know her, testing her body’s capabilities and limits; how much could she bleed before she became too weak to stand on her own? How long could she hold back screams when he started cutting? How much force did it take to snap her radius, her femur?

He was thoroughly enjoying his experiments with her, simply healing her up after each one so that he could try his next idea. He’d begun to see what Dean saw in her, there was something quite beautiful in the way the ape struggled against the inevitable, the way she fought against him, knowing her efforts were completely useless. He liked the defiance in her eyes, it made his human body react in interesting ways.

Her pain and her resistance made his pilfered blood run hot and thick in his veins, made his body hard, made him run his hands up and down her body with no other purpose than to feel its softness. 

On his fourth day with her he had her stripped her down to her underthings, intending to burn her with the tip of a poker, curious to see what color her skin turned as it flaked off. He knew he was wasting time really. He’d experimented with her enough, he should be feeding her his grace to see what kind of hybrid monster he could make of the psychic.

But when he saw her in her bra and panties, memories that weren’t his surfaced in his mind, Dean’s memories of how she looked when she was beneath him, the way her head jerked back as she gasped with pleasure, the way her knuckles went white, bunched in the sheets, her body bucking into Dean’s hand, and suddenly he knew how he wanted to finish off his experimentation.

He’d never experimented like this before, none of the human bodies he’d encountered in the past had affected him this way. He wasn’t sure if it was some kind of pull from her psychic blood, or the memories he had access to, or if it was simply the enjoyment he’d already gotten from this flesh, but for the first time he felt an earthly need for the body in front of him. 

As he approached her, he saw panic in her gaze and wondered if her psychic abilities had allowed her to see what was coming. But as he registered her panic, he suddenly felt Dean back above water and screaming, roaring inside their mind.

Get the fuck away from her! I will rip you apart from the inside! 

Michael chuckled. Come on now, Dean. I know exactly how much you enjoy this body, I��m doing this as much for you as for me.

Michael lifted his hand to run his finger down Y/N’s cheek. She recoiled and he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. He did his best impression of Dean, smiling and hoping it looked friendly and not feral. 

“Don’t look away, sweetheart. It’s me. I know you love me, I know you want me. Let me make you feel better.”

He watched her face in fascination; her expressions ran the gamut between horrified, heartbroken, and lustful. But he could practically smell her hope, her need; she was absolutely desperate to pretend the man she loved was there and her tormentor was gone.

Humans really are odd little things. Michael thought.

Dean was still screaming, and then garbling his words beneath the ocean Michael drowned him in. Enough out of you, he thought with a smirk.

Maybe it was the cold smirk that did it, breaking the illusion that he was Dean, or maybe it was Y/N’s abject terror at the idea of what was about to happen. But the very last of her defiance seemed to pulse through her and something in her shifted. He could feel it in the way the hairs on his arms stood up, the way a deep, thrumming buzz began to sound inside his ears.

Y/N’s body began to pulse as well, like waves of energy gearing up. He raised a hand, his eyes glowing blue as he shot his grace towards her. The first beam hit her and stopped her, but she was soon powering up again, and when his grace surged at her a second time, she knocked it away with one of the hands she got free, snapping the chains that held her to the wall.

He pushed grace towards her again, but she wrapped herself in a psychic shield and broke her remaining chains. As he continued to fight, continued to pour grace out of himself and wield it like a sword, he felt Dean surface again. In his mind’s eye he could see him gasping and fighting for the shoreline. Michael tried to force him back under water, but he was using too much of his strength to keep Y/N back. 

And Dean was fighting incredibly hard. 

It was a two-pronged attack, from the inside and outside, and it was not something he’d been expecting. Y/N moved slowly, wrapped in her bubble, towards the bag she’d been traveling with when he caught her. As she reached the backpack, he managed to penetrate the bubble and sent her flying backwards.

Before he could press his advantage, however, Y/N was on her feet again and sending a pulse wave of energy into him, making him stumble backwards. She grabbed the bag quickly and from inside she pulled out a gold, metal, egg-shaped object. He could feel Dean leaving the water as Y/N began to chant in Enochian.

Before she was more than two words in, however, the impossible happened and Michael could feel Dean scream at him.

“Get out!”

His words were powerful enough to defeat Michael in his slightly weakened condition, and the archangel could feel his essence begin to be expelled from the body he’d resided in for almost two months. As he was forced out, he felt another call, another pull, and he looked on in horror as he was inexorably yanked out of Dean’s body right into the tiny space of the egg. 

The egg was tiny, but Michael fell for days, down and down and down, until he landed on a dark, rocky, moldy floor.

He looked around him and sitting across the floor was a human, glowing with the angel inside him. The angel looked very familiar.

The celestial who shared his name chuckled at the strange turn of events. “Welcome to the cage, doppelganger.”

***

Dean felt weak as he fell to the ground, as though he’d been running for days, weeks. No, not running, swimming, fighting against the current.

His muscles were shaking and he felt as though he might puke. Then he saw Y/N curled in a ball on the dirty floor of the cold, abandoned warehouse they were in and he rushed to her. He pulled off the suit jacket he wore and helped her sit up so he could wrap it around her shoulders.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” He said quietly as she shook beneath his hands. 

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes; but under the tears was fear, stark terror, and suspicion.

“Dean?” She asked in a whisper, and he knew she still couldn’t trust that it was him. It hurt his heart to see the fear there; would she always see the sadistic angel looking back at her from now on?

He let go of her and moved away a bit to try and ease her worry. “It’s me, baby, it’s me. I promise. You got Michael, trapped him in that.” He nodded towards the egg. “He’s in the cage.”

Y/N stared at him, but then she shook her head slightly. “No, I didn’t get the spell out, you were already forcing him out. The egg just grabbed him as he was fleeing.” A small smile touched the corners of her lips. “You did it.”

Dean risked coming a bit closer again, reaching out a palm to lay against her cheek, rejoicing when she leaned into his touch. 

He leaned towards her and rested his forehead against hers. “No, we did it. We make a good team.”

A broken cry fell from her mouth as she threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped her tightly in his embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I tried to get out, I tried to get to you, but I couldn’t. I tried and tried, but-”

Y/N cut him off with a kiss. Dean wept into it and didn’t even try to hide it. She tasted his salty tears and pulled back cupping his cheeks in her hands and shaking her head.

“No Dean, please don’t. Don’t put this on you, don’t punish yourself.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, why not? I let him in.”

Y/N brushed away his tears. “Yeah, to save Sam and Jack.” Dean opened his mouth to interrupt her again, but she continued quickly. “And if you punish yourself, you’ll hurt me too.”

Dean looked at her intently and she shook her head slowly. “We’re both safe now. We beat him. Together.”  She inhaled deeply. “Look, take a deep breath. Go on.” She encouraged when he didn’t do it immediately. 

He began to breathe in sync with her, timing his breathing with hers, but visions kept popping into his mind, the things Michael did to her using his hands, and he knew he hadn’t even seen everything; he knew there were things he couldn’t remember from when he'd been deeply submerged.

His breathing faltered and Y/N sighed. “I don’t remember all of it either.” She said; her psychic abilities were incredibly powerful, but he knew she wasn’t reading his mind - she just knew him too well, knew the way his mind worked, even from outside of it.

She cupped his cheeks again so he was looking into her eyes. “Can I show you where I was hiding a lot of the time?”

Dean nodded and she rested her forehead on his; he closed his eyes and let her in. 

There was suddenly a picture in his mind, like a memory, but he knew it wasn’t his. In truth, it wasn’t really a memory but a vision. In the vision he could see the two of them in an old hunter’s cabin; he remembered staying there once, years ago. But they’d simply holed up there for a night after a hunt.

The visions going through his mind had never happened. They were simply Y/N’s imaginings, the place she went in her mind to escape Michael’s torment.

In the vision Y/N and Dean cuddled together in the old bed and he was kissing her tenderly; they were having a food fight in the kitchen which she let him win so that he could lick frosting from her skin; Dean was reading to her and making her laugh by doing silly voices; they were eating pizza and talking animatedly about a hunt.

Then the visions shifted to a Christmas setting and they were sitting beside a big Christmas tree and he had the sense of being surrounded by family and loved ones, all laughing, happy and joyful, just beyond his eyeline.

In the span of a breath, he was suddenly back on the warehouse floor as Y/N broke the connection and pulled back. “I was only here sometimes, I ran away from him, as much as possible, ran far into my mind. And every single safe place in my mind revolved around you.”

He shuddered as she ran her hand soothingly through his hair. His voice was raspy with unshed tears. “I love you - so much.”

She finally let her tears flow free as she kissed him again. “I love you too.”

They clung to each other for a long time, finding their way back to one another and back to the sense of belonging they found in the other’s arms.

Finally Dean pushed himself to his feet and pulled Y/N with him. “Let’s get out of here and find Sam.” Y/N nodded, but before she could turn to get her bag, he pulled her to him for another kiss. 

When he pulled back, his green eyes were shining. “And it’s Christmas in a week. Let’s find that cabin, let’s invite everyone we know, and let’s make that dream a reality. Let’s not wait anymore to be happy.”

Y/N smiled widely and nodded, tears shimmering. “That sounds like a dream.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya @arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

[lovelyjj]

Jsjdndnddhcudndufjf I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH LIKE AHHHHHHHH YOURE A GENIUS!!!

Can I request a JJ x reader where the reader is comforting him? It can be about anything you want. Maybe he’s feeling insecure about the relationship or his dad did something or maybe oooo maybe she’s been busy studying and hasn’t been able to spend a lot of time with him and hasn’t been texting him much so he starts to think she wants out.

If you can’t I understand :))

thank you angel, sorry this took so long

Reassurance

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1,094

The rain drizzled down near the château. The pitter patter of it hitting the roof could be heard even from the inside.

JJ sat on his bed in his designated room waiting for your arrival.

After about 10 minutes of twiddling his thumbs he herd his phone ringing. When he saw the contact photo he grinned and pushed answer.

"Hello" JJ answered.

"Hi baby" You exclaimed, your voice ringing through his speaker making his heart soar.

"What's Up" JJ asked.

"So I have a bit of bad news. I can't come over today. I have to study. I'm drowning in homework over here."

"Wait really."

"Yes. I'm really sorry" you spoke with remorse.

"It's ok I understand" JJ replied halfheartedly.

"I'll see you sometime soon" you reasoned.

"Yeah alright sounds good." JJ remarked.

"Bye JJ I love you" you say.

"Bye baby, I love you too" JJ speaks ending the call.

JJ sighed. He wasn't gonna lie he was disappointed. He really wanted to see you and cuddle up on this rainy afternoon.

He wasn't mad you blew him off. He really did understand. He was just missing you a lot. He felt saddened by your absence.

————

The following day is when JJ decided to text you. Usually when the two of you aren't with each other you text. His phone however has been strangely silent.

JJ: Hey baby. I miss you. Hope your doing well. Would you like to come over tomorrow?

JJ waited and waited and he still received no response. Now JJ was confident and secure in your relationship. However, he was starting to get worried.

You not texting him back made JJ start to feel insecure in your relationship. This almost never happens. It usually would take a lot for JJ to feel this way. However, he started having his doubts pretty early on. It wasn't until the next day that he heard from you.

Y/N: Hey! Sorry i'm just now getting back to you. I had my phone off while I studied. I can come over tomorrow if you want.

JJ: Sounds good.

JJ was glad your finally agreed to coming over. He was just sad he has to wait a whole nother day to see you.

Usually the two of you would text non stop but after JJ sent his last message his phone was dry.

JJ started feeling like you wanted out. That this relationship doesn't mean as much to you as it does to him. He was spiraling and he needed to talk to you to find some sort of clarity. He did not want this relationship to end and the thought of you wanting it to had his heart hurting.

The next day came by slowly for JJ as he anticipated the day he gets to see you. The day came however and JJ was looking forward to talking to with you.

"JJ," you called out to him as you entered the château.

"In here," JJ announced.

You walked into JJs room and smiled.

"Baby! I've missed you," JJ spoke standing up.

You engulfed JJ in a hug and squeezed him.

"I've missed you to."

"It feels like it's been forever," JJ responded breathing in your scent. He snuggled deeper into your neck.

"Hasn't been that long has it" you asked.

JJ released you from the hug but was still holding on to you.

"You know that it's agony being without you right." JJ pressed.

You smiled brightly at him, beaming you brushed your hands up to his biceps and then slid them up to wrap around his neck.

"Really?" you asked in awe of him.

"Baby, you are the love of my life. Being with you is when i'm at my best." JJ concluded.

You reached up and kissed him passionately. Your lips locked together massaging one another.

JJ broke the kiss and placed his hands back on your waist.

"That's why I got so sad when you canceled on me. and then I didn't hear from you for like days on end." JJ frowned.

"I really am sorry I was just really focusing on my schoolwork." You added.

"Heck you got me questioning our relationship." JJ threw his hands up in the air.

You sat down on the edge of his bed, "JJ it had nothing to do with you." you pleaded.

"I thought you wanted out. Like you wanted us to be over." JJ said angrily.

"That's not what I want. I still want to be with you." You argued.

"You have a funny way of showing it." JJ added.

"Listen JJ i'm sorry i've been neglecting you but breaking up is the furthest thing from my mind. Let me reassure you." You begged.

JJ was pacing back and forth in his room as the two of you talked.

"Ok fine reassure me please," JJ begged.

You stood up and cupped his face in your hands causing his pacing to come to a halt.

"JJ Maybank I love you. End of story. I want to be with you until we're old and grey. Your it for me. I promise to be more attentive to your feelings. Please don't ever think I don't care about you because I do with every fiber of my being." Your heart ached at the thought of JJ becoming insecure with your relationship. You wanted him to feel secure and reassured that your not leaving him.

JJ grabbed onto your wrists and nodded. His expression was looking sad but he was just letting your words sink in.

"Baby. I love you. You just scare the shit out of me sometimes." JJ laughed.

You started to smile seeing JJ laugh it was like music to your ears.

"There's that smile I love." You announced.

JJ picked you up by the waist and spun you around. You giggled up in the air and held on to his shoulders.

"Promise this is forever," JJ said as he put you down.

You looked up at him smile gracing your lips and said, "this is forever."

JJ then tackled you to the bed. You launched onto the bed with him on top of you.

After a tickle fight, play fighting and laughing together you both winded down for a movie.

You and JJ were cuddled up together on his bed watching a movie. You were running your fingers through his hair as he laid with his head on your chest.

"You'll stay the night?" JJ asked.

"Of course I will."

JJ smiled and nestled further into you laying contently in your arms.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

From Bright Light

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 5

Series Masterlist             Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around. 

warnings: swearing (as always), very general descriptions of dissociation, Frank is clearly hurting and not handling things well, small descriptions of violence, last fluff chapter before angst

a/n: I am finally a few chapters ahead on both my WIPs! Hopefully I can start posting more regularly this spring/summer. As always, reblogs and comments fuel me!

w/c: 5.3k

Gritting his teeth as a rogue biker almost knocked him to the pavement, Frank ignored the man’s irritated screaming and stalked forward down the block. Despite the early hour of the morning and the lack of activity in the city, it seemed that the disgustingly high temperature had already put everyone in a mood. He certainly wasn’t a fan of the way the heat coated his skin and drew beads of sweat from his pores, soaking his freshly washed shirt all the way through before he even reached the cafe. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but stopping at your workplace for coffee had become his new normal. And, given his deteriorating mood this week, deviating from his routine was sure to ruin his day.

So he persisted. Yanking his beanie further down on his forehead and shoving his hands into his pockets, he stared straight ahead and soldiered through the remaining few minutes in the heat before clasping his hand around the handle on the glass door, pulling on it hastily—and nearly falling to the ground when the door didn’t budge. The smirking face of your coworker Leo appeared through the tinted glass shortly after.

“Sorry about that,” The kid apologized, shoving the door open for him and stepping aside. “We technically don’t open for another hour.”

Staring at him quizzically, Frank threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Shit, I can go, if ya want. I didn’t—“

“You kidding?” Leo gave him an incredulous look. “The princess would have my head if I turned her prince away. C’mon in. I’m sure she’s expecting you.”

Rolling his shoulders, the marine straightened his spine and set his jaw, expression stuck in an embarrassed grimace. Stepping over the threshold and into the bakery, the air around him seemed to suddenly grow colder, a shiver running down his back. Glancing upwards to find the offending vent, he frowned when his eyes met a stretch of blank ceiling. Your coworker's smug voice brought his eyes back down.

“She's in the kitchen, Pete.” Though the kid wasn't meeting his gaze, Frank had the sneaking suspicion that he was trying not to laugh.

Flushing, he gave a curt nod, stepping around the counter and into the back room. It wasn't his first time past the batwing doors, but the scene felt surprisingly intimate nonetheless. Through the maze of steel tables and rows of ingredients, he found you. You were perched on a stool in the back corner, away from the dingy windows that peeked out front. Your back was turned to him, displaying the lopsided bow cinched around the waist of your dress. Spine hunched, you were gesturing wildly with one of your hands, the other holding a phone to your ear as you spoke in a hushed voice.

As the kitchen doors whooshed shut, you looked up, eyes wide like a fawn's. Giving him a tiny wave and a strained smile, you spoke with a bit more clarity.

“I gotta go, mom. I'll see you soon. Ok, bye.” Making a big show of hanging up the phone and slipping it into your apron pocket, your smile widened, finally meeting your eyes as you exhaled forcefully. Standing from the stool, you traipsed over to him, skirt swishing around your calves.

“Hey Frankie! Sorry about that,” You wrinkled your nose at the mention of the call. Finally reaching him, you wound your arms around his waist. While he normally melted into your warmth, his nerves were still on edge after the interaction with Leo��his body stiffly returning the embrace but maintaining a small, emotional distance for his own sanity.

Withdrawing from him, you frowned, brows curving inward with confusion. “Is something wrong?”

Blinking as he tried to form a coherent thought from the symphony of anxieties screeching in his brain, he shook his head. “Nah. All good.”

Narrowing your eyes, you moved away skeptically, headed for the front of the shop. “Alrighty then. Let me start a pot of coffee and—”

“D'you usually open early for me?” He blurted out, face itching as it was overtaken by his furious blush.

Your expression remained bemused as you shrugged. “Depends on when you get here, I guess. Why?“

”You shoulda told me.“ He murmured, heart pounding as your face began to fall. What he meant to say was that he didn't mean to put you out. That he had no idea why he'd been blessed with someone who was sweet enough to open her shop an hour early every day for weeks just to make him a cup of coffee. That he felt like an idiot for thinking that you were just especially slow in the mornings and not even considering that he'd been receiving special treatment. That he felt awful for interrupting your morning preparations for almost a month now because he was a sorry sack of shit who couldn't handle being restless and alone in his own apartment, so he decided to bother you every morning instead.

But all that his exhausted and anxiety-ridden mind could come up with were those four words. And his throat was so tight with emotion that they sounded gruff and angry.

Watching you swallow roughly and avert your eyes, he ached to apologize, to correct himself, to wipe that horrible expression of hurt from your beautiful face—but he was cemented in place, awaiting your response.

”I'm sorry, Frank. I saw you out there weeks ago while I was baking and I let you in without thinking. After that, I just never corrected you. I didn't want you to feel bad. I'm sorry.“

As if you'd flipped a switch, the life returned to his body, his posture sagging as you apologized. The pained expression you wore shattered his cold heart, driving him to finally explain himself.  

”Shit, no, don't be sorry, sunshine.“ He cursed, striding over to you and pulling you into a second embrace, a real one this time.

Sighing into his chest, your arms tightened instinctively around his waist as he kneaded a circle into your back with his palm. ”Are you mad?“

Resting his nose in your hair, his heart sank at the fear in your tone. ”Course not, honey. Next time I’m early, tell me to fuck off, ok?“

A few giggles burst out of you and you squeezed your arms around him one more time before pulling away. ”Not a chance, tough guy. Did you still want that coffee?”

“I mean, if it’s bein’ offered,” He shrugged, the barest hint of a smirk gracing his lips as you grinned and dashed out of the kitchen.

Grabbing a stool and yanking it across the floor, he set it next to the station you appeared to be working at. Straddling the metal seat, he studied the array of items strewn across the bench, trying to decide what you'd been working on before he arrived. Before he could decipher what half of the ingredients were, you'd returned with his coffee and a latte of your own.

Handing him the paper cup, your eyes crinkled as you smiled softly. “Here you are, sir. Your disgusting, unedited, hot black coffee.”

“Ya know, I don't think I'd get this much crap from the cafe down the street.” He scoffed, taking a sip of the scalding drink to hide his smile. “Maybe I oughta start goin' there instead.”

“That's always an option,” You shrugged, handing him a danish wrapped in thin brown paper. “But then you'd have to jump through those same hoops again to get free breakfast. Court the baristas, and all that. Whole lotta effort for someone who's already a fan favorite at another bakery.”

“Fan favorite, huh?” He tilted his head at you, poorly hiding his amusement with a raised brow.

“What can I say, Frankie? You've really grown on us. Even though you have shit taste in coffee.” You grimaced dramatically, eyes dancing with humor.

A laugh tumbled from his lips mindlessly. He shook his head before raising the danish. “Thank you. For the free breakfast.”

You responded with a clumsy curtsy. “Why, of course, sweetheart.”

“So,” Frank said around a mouthful of the danish, “What are you workin’ on?”

Beaming at him, you jumped up and down gleefully. “Eek! I’m so glad you asked. So—“ 

As you launched into an energetic dialogue about the myriad of new ingredients you were hoping to work with this week, Frank felt at ease. Somehow, your presence always seemed to have that effect, pushing away his negative thoughts and anxieties until he relaxed fully. You brought out a side of him that he’d locked away for years. Your voice was a soothing melody, washing over his head like ripples on a beach. The soldier inside him–that was constantly on high alert–was content turning away, resting while you were there to watch his back. Sighing deeply, he felt a smile creep across his face as you kneaded dough in front of him, narrating the process and answering his questions as they came. 

But, of course, the divine bubble you’d created for him was destined to pop. 

“Hey, lovebirds. We've got a line.” Striding right past you to the walk-in, your other coworker–Stacy–looked a bit exasperated with Frank’s presence, prompting him to blush sheepishly.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to distract ya, sunshine. I’ll head out.” Standing inelegantly, and nearly bowling his stool over in the process, Frank avoided your gaze as he started to exit. 

“Oh no you don’t,” You scoffed, snatching him around the waist and burying your head against his chest. “You almost forgot your goodbye hug.”

Cradling your waist in his rough hands, he returned the embrace. “We couldn’t have that, could we?”

“Absolutely not.” You giggled, releasing him from your hold. “Have a wonderful day, Frankie. We still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Sure, if you ain’t found better company.” He smirked at your resulting eye roll. 

“There’s no such thing, sweetheart. I’ll see you then. Take care of yourself please.”

“You too, sunshine.” He gave a limp wave, ducking his head as he braved the rush of customers out front. 

Curling his fingers tighter into their respective fists, Frank inhaled deeply as his fellow New Yorkers sped by him. The mass of bodies writhed along the city streets, blurring together as each person invaded his space, leaving as quickly as they came. 

Frank pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to keep from retching. The amount of time spent in close proximity to strangers, even in the short walk to the restaurant, was enough to make him physically nauseous. His skin itched, the sensation flaring as each individual nearly barreled into him. 

The pinpricks of other people’s gazes dotted along his cheeks and neck, and he refrained from looking over his shoulder again to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Nostrils flaring he rounded the corner and marched down the sidewalk. His eyes were glued to the red awning attached to his destination. Just a hundred more yards. Eighty. Fifty. 

As he closed in on the building, his breathing was rapid, his muscles tense with adrenaline. He gave a stiff nod to the man holding the door and slid past him, into the overly air-conditioned restaurant. 

You’d warned him the place was uppity. A friend of a friend was the head chef, or something, and you wanted to support them during their grand opening. 

He wasn’t in the mood to be well-mannered, or consciously think about what utensil he needed to use at any given moment. And he sure as shit wasn’t in the mood to be surrounded by drunk, wealthy people complaining about the quality of their meals that cost more than a month of rent in Queens. But you’d invited him. So he came. 

He wasn’t dressed well enough. That much was made obvious by the look he got from the hostess as he stepped through the door. His dark jacket and worn jeans stood out like neon orange on a hunting trip. As he began stammering out his intentions to the uptight brunette, he heard your voice. 

“Hey Frankie!” Smiling as always, you were quite dolled up. You were wearing an ankle-length dress that he’d never seen before, and it accentuated your figure in a way he was incapable of processing in his given state. Your lips were coated in a shade of gloss darker than you normally wore, your hair styled and jewelry immaculately placed. He let his eyes roam fully over you before catching himself. 

“Shit. Sorry, honey. Hi.” He greeted, lamely. “You, uh, you look…good. Real good, sunshine.” 

Giggling, you looked at the ground bashfully. “Thank you, sweetheart. I wasn’t quite sure what to wear, to be honest.” 

“Me either.” He huffed, looking down at his clothes with a frown. 

“Well, I think you look very handsome, Frank.” You chuckled, beaming at him. 

“I’m under-dressed, I—“

“Hey,” You rested a hand on his shoulder, halting his words. “I think you’re perfectly dressed, ok? Don’t worry.” 

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you studied his face. He could feel you reading him, flipping through his metaphorical pages as you searched for the answer to your question. 

“Frankie, are you sure you want to have dinner here? I know you had a long day, and—“

Frank scratched the back of his neck. Long was an understatement.  The universe, ever determined to undermine the progress he made, had apparently decided he'd had enough peace for the month. Sleep, which had finally been coming easier for once in his sorry life, was once again escaping him. Night after night he jolted awake as the sounds of his wife's screams echoed in his ears.

Usually, his nightmares included his children too. Their disfigured bodies riddled with gore, haunting him well into his waking hours. Recently, his dreams consisted of Maria and Maria alone. Her manicured nails clawing at his chest as she choked on her own blood. Screaming for him, and sometimes at him. Because he didn't save her. He could never save her.

The disturbing imagery had compelled him to stay out of the house more often than usual, taking out his building rage on the cement and drywall of his team's current construction site. He was averaging a 12 hour work day in the hope that wearing himself out physically would force his mind to tumble into a dreamless sleep. It had yet to do anything more than accost his aging body with pain, add to the tab he was racking up at the dog boarding place currently watching Max, and make him almost late for his dinner with you.

Brushing off your concern with a shrug, he shifted his weight from foot to foot. ”'M alright, sunshine. Too hungry to turn back now.“

You smiled at his joke, leaving the space between you open for him to follow as you turned to move.

Petrified by the various stimuli his brain was trying to process, he didn’t tread after you. Giving him a once over as you stepped back, you gently pried one of his hands from his pockets, tugging him out of the doorway and towards a table in the back corner.

It was away from the windows and within sight of two exits, settling his uneasy nerves a bit. The restaurant was filling up as the minutes ticked by, but the tables were spaced far enough apart that Frank could continue to breathe. As he focused on your hand in his, and the way your eyes shone in the flickering candlelight, he could feel his stiff muscles slackening. Your soft thumb drew a line across his knuckles as you slid into the chair across from him. 

“Say the word and we’ll bail.” Your expression was adorably serious, bottom lip protruding with concern. 

“I ain’t bailin’, honey.” Frank forced a chuckle, biting back a sigh as you took his other hand across the table. “Did ya have a good day?”

Face brightening, you nodded as your smile wormed its way back onto your face. Launching into a story about a squirrel you’d saved from a busy street that morning, Frank found himself being lulled into a state of half-consciousness. Internally, his soldier instincts and logic battled fiercely, apparently too viciously for his brain to handle. After moving a mile a minute for hours, his mind had short-circuited when presented with safety. 

He wanted to lean into the comfort you always provided. 

To indulge in the stillness and feel content. 

To stop. Fucking. Fighting. 

To find a new home.

“Frankie, you ok?” Your soft question brought him back to reality.

Eyes flicking to meet yours, he tried to speak, the words catching in his tight throat. Coughing around the emotion clogging his esophagus, he nodded. “Fine. Why?”

Tilting your head, you raised one eyebrow at him. “You just seem...” You waved a hand around his face as if that would clear everything up.

“Sorry, sunshine.”

“Don't be. Did you want me to be quiet, or..?”

Shaking his head frantically, he squeezed his hand around your fingers. “No. Keep goin', honey. I like listenin' to ya.”

Biting your bottom lip, you looked at the table with a pleased hum. “Ok, well, you know our neighbor in 213B? Ms. Kaminzki?”

Nodding, he could feel his focus drifting once again, though you seemed more comfortable with the idea the second time around. You were too perceptive. It scared him sometimes, if he was being honest. He hadn't had a connection this deep since...

Before he could finish that thought, a waiter approached to ask for your order. Grateful to let you take the reins as he regained control over his frazzled mind, he watched with an amused fondness as you bonded with the newcomer over a love of root vegetables. 

Following your server���s arrival, dinner passed without incident–though you and Frank agreed that the prices were far too high for this to become a regular spot. Despite the fact that it was far from the best meal he’d ever eaten, he was happy to spend time with you.

Which is why he let you clasp your delicate fingers around his broad hand as you walked back to your apartment building. You were uncharacteristically quiet as the two of you strolled down the sidewalk. Given his actions over the last couple of hours, he wasn't in any position to scold you for being distant, but the behavior worried him slightly.

Letting his eyes drift sideways to study your face, the corner of his lips twitched upwards at your focused expression. Your face was contorted into a small scowl, pinched in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. A small, but distinctly annoyed, huff parted your lips as he watched. Clearly something was on your mind.

Bumping his hip against yours, he stifled a smile. “Ya plottin' my murder over there or somethin'?”

Nearly tripping as your concentration broke, you looked up at him sheepishly as he pulled you into his side to steady you. “Sorry, Frankie.”

“It's a'right, sunshine. Why's the cat got your tongue?”

Sighing, you stared at the cracked pavement beneath your feet, placing each step carefully so you wouldn't stumble again. “It's nothing, Frankie.”

“Fuck, you're startin' to sound like me, honey. That ain't good.” Frank frowned as you chuckled sadly. Your usual bright giggles sounded pensive and hollow.

“Just thinking.” You shrugged.

Internally groaning, he tried again. “Work with me here, darlin'. Thinkin' about what?”

Your lips quirked with a smile, lashes fluttering as you looked up at him. “Family stuff. I don't...I don't wanna bug you with it.”

“Would ya tell me if I swore I wanted to hear it?”

A glimmer of sass shone through with your smirk. “Maybe.”

Throwing a hand up to show the distance you still had to walk, he looked at you with a raised brow. “We got time. Hit me with it.”

“Fine. But know that it's stupid.” You pointed a finger at him with a stern look, inspiring a smile of his own.

Exhaling, you chewed on your lower lip between words. “Um, so I haven't told you much about my family. But they're, er...complicated. To say the least.”

Frank listened intently, squeezing your hand encouragingly when you hesitated.

“My mom and I still keep in contact but she's...difficult. She makes me kind of miserable, to be honest. But she's all I have left, so I put up with it. Unfortunately, that means she visits from time to time and I always sort of…” You trailed off, eyes becoming misty as your words failed.

“Sorta what, sunshine?” Frank prompted softly.

“Shut down, I guess?” You looked up at him, lips pursed. “Not to burden you with the details she just...she makes it really hard to not fall back into bad habits. And she's planning on coming up in a few weeks, so I was just lost in thought about it.” You gave a halfhearted chuckle.

“When's she comin'?”

“Three weeks from tomorrow.“ You whined, shaking your head. “It'll be fine, I just need to prepare for it, you know?”

“Would it help if you had company?”

Frank's question caught you off guard. “What?”

“I was wonderin' if it would help, if I was there I mean.”

Shaking your head furiously, you frowned. “Oh I can't ask you to do that, Frank–”

“Last I checked, you weren't askin'.” Frank snorted. “If ya don't want me there…”

“No Frank,” You turned to look at him earnestly. “That would be amazing! I just...you would do that for me?”

Nodding slowly, he brought his free hand up to cup your cheek. “In a heartbeat, sunshine.”

Giggling, you shook your head gravely. “What would I do without you?”

The rest of the walk back to your apartments was spent joking about things you could buy for Frank and slowly start placing around his house. You reached the front door to your building as he was finally talking you out of replacing all of his so-called “boring” glasses with vulgar mugs.

“Look, Frankie! This one is perfect for you!” You squealed, turning around your phone to reveal a poorly photoshopped white mug with the words “Moody Bitch” written on it.

“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, strutting into the building ahead of you, not hiding his smile as you cackled gleefully.

You scrambled up the stairs after him. “Wait! I found a better one!”

“Nope. I'm done lookin' at your shitty mugs.” Fishing his keys out of his pocket, he unlatched the door, giving Max a scratch as the dog poked his head out in greeting.

“Hi, Maxie!” You cooed, your voice igniting Max's overactive tail. Crouching in front of him, you happily let him kiss your face as Frank slipped his shoes off.

“Ok bud, let her up.” Frank scolded gently as the massive canine began to tip you over in his eagerness to kiss every inch of you.

Standing with too much difficulty, you giggled as you finally managed to drag yourself upright. “Yikes. Pretend you didn't see that.”

“See what?” Frank asked, smirking.

“Thanks for a good night, Frankie. Oh, wait before we part ways for the evening...” You trailed off, shoving open your own door and dashing inside.

Still standing in his own doorway, Frank chuckled to himself as he heard you banging around in your kitchen. “Ya know, I was hoping to go to bed at some point.” He called down the hallway.

“One more second!” You called back.

Pretending to have fallen asleep against the doorframe, Frank's eyes were closed when your footsteps tread back down the hall.

“Ha ha. Very funny.” You deadpanned. “If you don't want this dessert, I can absolutely eat it myself.”

“Dessert?” Frank opened his eyes enthusiastically, accepting the plate you handed him.

The slice of whatever you'd handed him was thick and smelled of cinnamon. Its bread-like texture and swirl of filling looked painfully familiar...

“You promised to try the babka I made! So, here you go.”

Dread pooled in his stomach as his shaky hand grasped the fork you handed him. The enticing smell of the cake suddenly turned to something sinister, drawing acid up in this throat.

“I, uh...I what?” He stammered out, staring at the plate like the pastry had pulled a gun on him.

”The babka I made for Ms. Kaminzki? I mentioned it at dinner and you said you would try it for me?“ Your eyes were shining with anticipation, your tone edged with an anxiety that caused his own heart rate to spike.

His mouth remained shut, drying out as if he'd eaten a bowlful of sand. Spearing the slice of cake, he nodded as he took a small bite.

The blend of spices was something he'd tasted many times before, and he felt like someone had smashed a bottle over his head. Adrenaline surged through every vein, his hands trembling viciously. Bile was clawing up his esophagus, chills suddenly wracking his body.

“It’s great, sweetheart.” He muttered, still staring at the bread.

“Yah?” You asked eagerly, dress swirling around your ankles as you bounced on the balls of your feet.

“Mmmhmm, I love it.” Prying his eyes away from the ceramic plate he held, he glanced at you. Your face seemed to flicker, briefly—another familiar face forming a mask over your wide eyes and small smile. As his nausea suddenly became unbearable, he opened his door. ”I gotta go.“

“Oh, ok! Have a good night, Frank!” You called. He gave a limp wave.

Stepping backwards into his apartment, he locked the door behind him, chucked the pastry across his counter, and bolted to the bathroom.

Using your thumb to steady the piece of tape, you pressed it against the serrated edge of the dispenser to tear off a piece. Carefully draping the adhesive side onto the brown paper, you folded the final edge of the parchment over the babka. You couldn’t help but smile at the beautifully wrapped loaf.

All things considered, you’d been having a great week. The bakery had seen steady traffic, one of your favorite market booths had given all their regulars a huge discount on seasonal fruit, and your adorable elderly neighbor had been so thrilled about the babka you made her that she’d paid you to make one for her knitting club. Speaking of… A quick glance at the clock was enough to hurry you out the door to prevent being late.

Cradling the weighted parcel to your chest, you rushed out the door and down the steps—thanking your lucky stars that you didn’t break an ankle in your haste to make the delivery.

Ms. Kaminzki was an adorable older woman who lived on the floor below yours. You had offered to help bring her groceries in after she’d gotten hip surgery a few months ago, and the woman had been downright motherly to you ever since. She was constantly bringing you home cooked meals and complimenting your outfits, it was about time you made her something in return.

Of course, she’d tried to pay you for the first one and refused to accept a second for free—but there was only so much you could do to combat her sweet stubbornness. Which meant that this time, unfortunately, you needed to let her press a crumpled 20 dollar bill into your hand as you passed her the babka.

Accepting her cheek kisses and endless praise for your “baking talents” more readily than the cash, you ushered her into a taxi so she'd make it to her meeting on time. With the promise to visit her for dinner this week, you waved her off—nearly smacking someone behind you in the process.

“Oh fuck, I'm so—” Tilting your head as you took in the hooded figure in front of you, your brows shot up. “Frank?”

The man looked rough, to put it simply. Deep purple bruises sat under his puffy eyes, his posture hunched and face swollen around a split lip. He was avoiding your gaze, and he visibly flinched as you stepped into his space.

Straightening your fingers, you displayed your palms in a gesture of harmlessness. Though he was still curled in on himself, he met your gaze as you rested a hand on his bicep. “Sweetheart, what happened? Are you alright?”

Frank nodded curtly, recoiling from your light touch as he yanked open the door to your building. “Fine, sunshine.”

Huffing as he slipped into his old habits, you trailed after him.

“Thought we were past the whole 'pretending to be fine' shtick but, ok.” You muttered, nearly tripping over your skirt as you chased him up the stairs.

“I ain't 'pretendin' to be fine'. I am fine.” Frank snapped, not even sparing a glance at you.

“Sure,” You nodded, unbothered by his bad attitude. “Seems like it.”

Scoffing, Frank whirled around on the landing. His glower softened as he registered your furrowed brow. Deflating like a helium balloon, he flushed pink. “Sorry, sunshine. I'm just...havin' a shit day.”

“You sure it hasn't been a shit week?” You asked with narrowed eyes, hand coming up to cup his stubbled cheek. “This cut doesn't look fresh.”

Frank usually leaned into your touch as if it was the only thing keeping him together. While others made you feel self-conscious about your love of physical contact, your grumpy neighbor seemed to be as starved for it as you were.

Today, however, he remained rigid in your hold. His eyes were hollow shells, not holding the range of emotions you'd come to expect from his beautiful irises. Wherever his mind was, you were confident that it was not here with you.

Withdrawing your hand, you nodded your head toward the final flight of stairs. “C'mon, sweetheart. Up we go.”

His stare remained blank, but he followed your direction, marching up the stairs as if he was ready to drop—which, you realized, he probably was.

As he fumbled with his keys, you ambled towards your own apartment, trying not to look like you were prepared to catch him if he collapsed. As he tumbled over the threshold into his apartment, you caught a glimpse of the trash accumulating on his coffee table and counters. If you weren't worried before...

Eyes narrowing as he noticed you staring into his apartment, he gave a small wave. “Have a good night, sunshine.”

Though his words were sweet as always, his tone was flat and you weren't quite sure whether he meant what he said.

“You too, Frankie.” Before he could slip inside his apartment, you pressed a quick peck to his cheek. As your lips made contact with his scruff, one of his rough hands wrapped around the curve of your waist, squeezing gently. Smiling as you retreated, you let his hand linger on you for as long as he needed.

“I'm right next door if you need me, ok?” You promised gravely.

Finally dropping his hand, he nodded, a spark of the warmth you usually found in his expression finally igniting behind his eyes. Shoving lightly at him with an exaggerated frown, you pointed a finger at his chest.

“Go get some rest, Castle. You need it.”

He chuckled softly, finally disappearing behind the chipped white door.

Pondering for a moment, you could practically feel the cartoon light bulb pop out of your skull as the epiphany struck you. Flexing your hands in anticipation, you rushed into your apartment and beelined for your freshly washed mixing bowls.

Thanks for reading!! Please comment/reblog!

Taglist: @cheshirecat484 @xxdrixx @smhnxdiii @mattmurdocksstarlight @danzer8705 @mjsvinyl @softieekayy

[birbaliciouss]

introductionnn (faint tpot intro starts in the background)

hello hi hi hello!!

you can call me anything but i prefer kara/karasu

pronouns are anything other than male!

minor (weird stuff: FAT NO!!1!)

i dabble in a bit of tomfoolery /j (i just draw n stuff) (i draw more traditionally)

fandoms im in : bfdi, ii , one , animatic battle/object fool , its time for the , fanganronpas ( drdt, danganronpa antebellum, dra )

basic dni criteria

SONGS

I take requests for any characters/objects of the above fandoms i am in but there are certain criteria for that.

CRITERIA

No NSFW / 18+ requests (blood is alright tho!)

No homophobic / sexist requests.

No OC'S (I'll try in object form tho but you gotta send me a ref)

Rarepairs are allowed, but check with me first!

I may not be able to complete your requests on time, please understand that!

Do not fear to dm me.

please im so lonely

Ok thats it bye!1!! *you watch as she suddenly grows a pair of angel wings and jumps of a rooftop while clarity meme plays in the background* /lh

[slutsareteacherstoo]

I Hope Part 3 Preview

Ok so here’s the preview of part 3. It’s largely focused on Terry and getting into his head/POV.

Even though I dont like how I ended the part (its not landing but i gotta lock in and post cuz my crush finished her novel draft so im like nah i gotta step it up and tell her i finished something chile 😭 both these parts i storyboarded and my personal statement 🤭) but anyways see preview below….

Circa 2022/2023 (TBD)

Terry was making his way to the library. He needed a place to charge his phone and to think before heading to his final destination to meet her. Sun shining, skin glistening with sweat and pedaling hard to the tune of metal, he focused on where he was going. And what his next steps would be.

He wanted something different. Something better. He was trying to be better. Someone new. He’d been out of the military for almost 5 years now. And for the past 2, he’d been trying to shed that skin. To cut those ties and be someone new. A man and not a machine.

It’s why he found himself not at home but more than 2000 miles away from it. Away from what happened some months ago. The grief he was holding was too much. The very much preventable death of his favorite cousin. The future he envisioned for the both of them and what was to come instead. The loss of camaraderie and brotherhood of his fellow Marines while also knowing he needed to get out while he still could.

With his desired destination now in full view, he eased his pace a bit, preparing to slow down and eventually stop. The music in his ears was coming to crescendo when he finally got off of his bike. He pulled his blue backpack for the lock and began the short walk to the bike locker. He hoisted it upward to fit in the rack with the other bikes.

After closing the locker, he decided to take a swig of water while looking at the landscape before him. Body turned to face the direction he’d previously came from. He was taking in the urban landscape, a concrete jungle lined with palm trees. A different view from the country back home. After taking the moment to center himself, Terry decided to enter the library.

He was making his way through the sliding doors, being met with the building’s cool air immediately. And when the song he was listening to faded, a different melody came through but it wasn’t from his phone. It was someone speaking. A smooth and gentle voice that resonated with Terry strongly. The person was saying something about frozen food. He took his buds out, ear by ear, to see where the voice was coming from. Hearing it in fullness and clarity, the feeling of resonance grew inside of him. Almost like recognition.

Okay…thats it. Imma just post and go now. Bye 👋🏿🏃🏿‍♀️

[iss600]

Overanalyzing Free Ranger P.2

T.L.;D.R.: After extensive and definitely unnecessary analysis, Free Ranger has the best walk cycle, worst posture and an hourglass body shape. I think.

Welcome to part 2 of overanalyzing Free Ranger, my favorite tornado spinbirb. He's still on my mind, I'm still fixated on this man and I don't think it'll end any time soon, so let's get into this one. Continuing from the first post, I do have a little to say about his walk cycle, a lot on his posture, and some on his body shape.

As a heads up, I don't own Swap Force on anything but the Wii so the following screenshots were sourced from these videos. Despite that, the quality of the screenshots are...well...not very good. Also, I used Upscayl and Scapix to AI upscale some images of concept art just for the sake of clarity because they were so grainy and pixelated.

Meet the Skylanders: Free Ranger Free Ranger Soul Gem Free Ranger Path Guide #1 All Victory Poses

First things first. When he runs, he appears to bounce side to side like an actual chicken. It's not a lot, and it's definitely more in the arms than the legs, but it's just kind of cute. And I specify "appears" because going through his run cycle frame by frame appears to show that he is just walking straight, but I like to imagine that he sways his body side to side (forwards and backwards?) like an actual chicken. Adds some more animalistic traits to him, which I always feel like Skylanders are lacking in. They're animals, but they don't always show traits that add that layer of "yup, they're that animal".

And I know that he has an idle where he preens himself. It's very cute.

And moving on from that, what is wrong with his posture? He looks like he's standing with his knees bent all the time. Like he's halfway between squatting and standing. He stands straight when he walks slowly and when running (I think), but when he's standing, he's got this weird crouch. I don't know why it looks like he never stands up, but he does. For the love of the Ancients, Free Ranger, I don't think it's good on your knees to stand permacrouched.

And now, to the reason this stupid post took as long as it did to write. Free Ranger has an hourglass, or at least I think he does. His armor is thick and it's darn difficult to get a decent image of him standing and facing forward enough to get a good look. But, from a lot of doing my darndest to figure it out, I think he does. It's not exaggerated or drawn in such a way to be deliberately attractive, it's just a regular hourglass with naturally curved features. Nothing much.

It's definite that he did at one point in development have an hourglass though, and a really noticeable one at that.

Top 2 image sets are taken from the linked videos. The bottom two are pieces of concept art taken from Strata: The Art of Swap Force. You can see that I drew lines of where approximately his waistline is. His torso does seem bigger but I chock that up to the way the Skylanders artstyle proportions characters. At the very least, he has a really small waist in comparison to his upper torso and legs.

Then again. I might just be insane. But this was enough justification for me to give Free Ranger this body shape in my own AU so...that's a thing. I guess.

OK no but seriously why does he stand that way? Especially looking at it from the side; it may just be the Wii graphics but the poor roo looks like he's breaking one of his legs.

Oh, and I forgot to mention it, but his head twitches like crazy. Even when he's slowly walking, it's moving a lot. Don't know whether he's a really observant chicken, or a really nervous one. Going from his entry in the Earth & Air book of elemenets, it's implied to be the latter. Big old ??? for that though.

Also, more on my AU's Free Ranger coming...sometime. Who honestly knows? I don't. But I'll get it one eventually. Anyway, bye.

Ship DoomRanger, everyone.

[ashburninks]

Your Line Art Looks Bad and Here's Why

ok, now that I have your attention let's go over some housekeeping first.

one, take what applies and leave the rest.

Two, I'm stupid. Please be nice to me if you do happen to disagree with whatever I'm about to spew all over this god-forsaken website.

Now! On to the meat and potatoes!

Do you remember when you were in art class? and your teacher would be like "Line is a moving dot" or whatever the fuck

Like, sure you could say that's what line is but I've personally found it to be a road in which your eye travels; this can be figurative-like with leading lines- or literal, like with line work on paper done with a pen.

For the sake of clarity and sanity, I'm just going to talk about the literal aspect for the most part since leading lines kinda run in the background as you learn the more important, foundational aspects of art such as composition, shape, etc.

There are a few things that make good quality line art: Intent, quality, and control.

The most straightforward of the three is Quality.

good quality line art is stable and confident strokes with your brush or pen. It is also effectively using line weight and line opacity.

someone I've found to be quite proficient in this is Kim Jung Gi (rip King)

If you look closely at his work there are a few things you can notice immediately. He has incredible line confidence and his lines vary in opacity and weight. He truly was a master of his craft and I strongly encourage you to study his other work as well.

Control is tricky because it's not about what you put down on the paper but more about what you don't. This doesn't mean you can't do what you want but consider the reason for every stroke of your pen and what it adds to the piece. An absolute master of control is Jamie Hewlett.

Every single line he put down, has rhyme, reason, and bears visual weight. also, peep the use of line weight.

Finally, Intent. this one is similar to control but unique in that in using this tool, you can change the entire aesthetic of your piece; because let's be real - not every drawing calls for super delicate strokes. this is where you make the important decision as to what good line work looks like for the piece that you're creating.

An artist I find to be quite interesting in their use of intent is Deathburger on Instagram (also My favorite artist).

Deathburger intentionally keeps his line work rigid and consistent in line weight throughout his whole piece; it lends itself to the cyberpunk aesthetic that he absolutely dominates. his lines are organic and not totally straight which is endearing and makes the work feel alive. This is an excellent example of what good line work looks like that isn't necessarily smooth and super line-weighty.

also, yes, people can tell when you're just bad at line art or if it's your style. please stop lying, it's embarrassing.

Now that I've gone over what makes good line work it's time to talk about how to get better.

try drawing the same thing over and over as a warmup. for me this was Garfield. I recommend something simple, quick, and cartoony.

another thing you can do is practice calligraphy and script; this is a trick that tattoo artists do and it works incredibly well since it involves both straights and curves.

staying on the topic of what tattoo artists do, try wrapping your paper around a soda can or something round. it's challenging, humbling, and effective at getting better at line confidence.

Last but not least, study your favorite artists and see what they're doing that's effective, and try it yourself.

anyways, let me know if I missed anything lol

bye

Cole

[starleska]

RAAAAH I got a job interview for my dream career field, my autism evaluator is deciding how Afflicted and Afflicted with what I am, I'm well rested, and I've had a great time talking to people today! I believe I am finally blinded by the hubris of my victories enough to tell you (and whoever may be following the saga of my ramblings in your askbox) what my Latest Fixation is! You can just dm if I say anything inane in my post-pleasant day delirium, or you can put me on blast, idc idc I'm losing my mind rn, I'm rotating this show in my head so fast.

👉👈 so...The show is called Longmire. It's an American, contemporary western, crime drama from 2012 based on the book series of the same name. It follows the titular Sheriff Walt Longmire as he tries to get his life together after the loss of his wife and solve crimes in his county and whatever he can around the neighboring Native American Reservation.

I say "whatever he can" bc The Reservation isn't actually within his jurisdiction and he's barely allowed to be there, bc they have their own police force, and THAT'S where THE GUY I keep trying to tell you about without telling you about comes in!

👉👈so...he's Tribal Police Chief Mathias Clark. Yeah I gotta say the whole thing.

We're first introduced to him when he tries to beat the ever-loving cowboy out of our protagonist for daring to show his face on The Reservation after arresting his boss, the previous Tribal Police Chief (albeit for crimes he did commit, but Walt didn't even wait for the federal police like he was supposed to, but...it was complicated, ok?)

I think he walks this nice line between upholding the law above all else; doing things often more by-the-book than any other character; being calculated and calm and sane (...despite that introduction); and, at the same time, being fiercely protective of his people and culture; considering Sheriff Walt and co. to be opportunistic, reckless, disrespectful threats and scarcely cutting them any slack and still giving them trouble when he finally does in any investigations that may lead them onto his jurisdiction; being willing to kick and bite (and occasionally blackmail, uh oh) to achieve everything he can for the good and well-being of his people on The Reservation, even if the people refuse to trust another Police Chief, or if it may cost someone else.

Ultimately, he holds the law in a very high regard but holds his people and culture higher. He's very limited in what he can do, as a tribal police chief, and he's set on being fair, but he'll do anything he possibly can to make The Reservation safe and ensure the people on it a good future. <3

Also he's got a lot of attitude and sass and is constantly mad at Walt and loves his people sm and its very endearing and funny and also don't fact check anything I've said today with a real long-time fan of the series unless I made him sound unlikable, I hope you're doing well plz take care okay bye AGAGGHAAAAA THE POST RANT CLARITY-

LORELEI YOU LITTLE LEGEND OMGGGG!!!!!!!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳 honey i am so, so proud of you, that is absolutely amazing!!!! wow - makes me feel a lot better about a rough month that it's balanced out into a good time for a pal, eh? 🥰 ohoho FIXATION TIME!!! okay okay i am sitting cross-legged and listening eagerly :3c wow!!!!! oh my goodness first of all this show sounds so cool, i'm adding it to the watchlist immediately 👀 and second, hello Tribal Police Chief Mathias Clark!!! he sure is a handsome guy 😳��� and from everything you've said about him, quite the catch (and exactly the kind of man you tend to fall for 😉) :3c he sounds like a wonderfully principled man who isn't afraid to protect those he cares about most...and you know what? i reckon you falling for him is a sign that you feel you deserve to be taken care of. which you do. that is so, so wonderful 💖🙈

i can imagine this is a series which touches on a lot of prevalent issues to do with the erasure of Native American culture and safety at the hands of American racism and police brutality...would you say this show does a good job of portraying that? it's not a subject i'm overly versed in being from the UK, and i'd love to get a better grounding on that even if in a fictionalised context. i'm not sure if you'd recommend the tv show or the books first, but you've certainly got me curious 👀 interesting that the first thing which comes up when you google his name is fanfiction - clearly you've got some competition in the fanbase, eh? 😉 you'd better be inviting me to the wedding!!! 🥳🥳🥳

[princemick]

oh also!!!!

I just wanted to make a lil post for yall for clarity, I'm gonna be full time interning until the end of december so I'll be inactive as hell bc well. I'll be teaching classes from 8-4 and also do some after school stuff. I'll have time obv after school but I'm gonna see how it works out.

I'm gonna try and do what I can, gonna deff be active during race weekends but honestly that might be all I can do I honestly don't know at the moment.

this is more so y'all know I haven't just disappeared or smth bc I tend to b rlly active !!! ok bye !!!

[horrorvampirebatbite]

for serious thoughts on the new green lung album now that ive had a day to process my feelings without my brain exploding, this heathen land did not disappoint and imo lived up to the hype it warranted as the singles were released over the course of the last couple months. for a brief moment i was worried maybe it wouldn't but alas, ill happily admit i was disproven and im going to go back in time and beat myself into a bloody pulp

the highlights for me are, of course; maxine (witch queen) is the biggest standout amongst the singles and the general tracklist, i hope they play it live on their tours bcuz its such an ecstatic song that song is crack to me, my only criticism is couldve done with just one more "maaaaaaxine wheeetch queeen" but ill live. the forest church and oceans of time as the opener and closer respectively were utter perfection, and did the album wonders for the flow; the forest church had the perfect hook that successfully grappled me mercilessly by the balls. death grip if you will, and oceans of time moved me to tears, beautifully ending the albums journey on a satisfying conclusion, i felt clarity, i felt content. one for sorrow is the dip in energy for the album, after taking me to fucked up crazy highs with the first three songs, including maxine and mountain throne which of course id already familiarised myself with. one for sorrow i held off from when it came out a couple weeks prior, just until the album was fully released and man the pay off. so beautifully written and executed, i can only describe it as being the calm after the crack storm, another standout for that reason

the way i interpret the general vibe, and its not to say the albums before arent good, but for me its like they took the feeling that came with listening to graveyard sun for the first time, and turned it into a whole experience via an entire album. every song hit, the flow was impeccable, and im so so happy i got to experience it (i already said it but thank you oyvind for showing me them ily)

theres no conclusion to this also my break ended 10 minutes ago but yeah idk stream this heathen land by green lung ok bye

[companionwolf]

tonight's Delta Green recap

- wolf finally figures out how to defeat their maladies . THE ANSWER IS METH AT A VERY PERCISE TIME !!!

- 'stay here' says the security guard; 'yep' says Jay, already planning to NOT

- post session clarity: you should have ran you two. You Should Have Ran.

- joy is so talented she can sneak break and enter and MURDER. meanwhile the idiot duo are proficient in * checks notes * being new and stupid mostly

- 'what do we do' 'shoot them' OH BOY ! And they were apparently told to wait for us. This will be so very fine <- he lies

- oh AMAZING at least one of the 4 guards has a gun <- he's now more scared of any combat encounter

- ...Jacob just crit success'd his fucking Alertness roll to see the guard going for their gun so like what the fuck man

- welcome to another episode of wolf spends literal hours deciding what to do except this time they Don't want to fight and are trying to Not fucking die

- Jacob's Persuade skill is 40, he got a 39; I'm GOING to BITE him V HARD because he did not succeed anyway

- JACOB WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK <- HE GOT A 1 TO DISARM

- gods perfect little lucky idiot just got punched; however Jay has the gun now?

- JACOB JUST SUCCESSFULLY STABBED THE GUARD???? AND FOR MAX KNIFE DAMAGE???

- GUARDS FUCKED UP HE GOT WEIRD BLOOD WITH MOVING CLUMPS I REPEAT HES FUCKED UP

- aww Jacob you lost 4 SAN points <3

- 'I was really expecting them to run' idiot duo is idiots handler (and my self inflicted dice rolls said otherwise)

- JAY KILLED THAT MAN

- um. the blood. guys. oh Jacob's decided to just fucking leave. not the building but like. this place specifically

- I mean only if they don't hear Joy who's likely about to blast someone's face off (or well try) if she doesn't run

- if she does shoot, or gets shot, and my two hear it, it's so probable they go back and try to help and fucking Die.

- ok ritilan wearing off time for bed bye