pcnnydime

[pcnnydime]

I’m Leaving Tumblr.

  Dramatic? Probably, but it’s come to my attention (again, and again, and again) that a great number of people feel uncomfortable in my presence, so I’d rather the title sum up the post. You can read this and try to see things from my point of view, or you can move on with your lives. Either way, I hope this doesn’t cause much drama for anyone not involved, and I hope everyone regardless of involvement has a good day/night.

First, I apologize if this post seems robotic, but after countless anxiety attacks , multiple lost friends, and a few instances of self harm due to everything that’s been happening around me, I find myself lacking the emotional energy to put more ‘pep’ or ‘enthusiasm’ into this post. I’ve been on Tumblr since Red Thread was at its peak, however many years that may have been, and roleplaying, meeting people here, and developing characters that mean the world to me has helped me grow as a person. It brought me out of a near 2 year long depression that included an extremely abusive relationship, being left behind by all my close local friends, and a failed suicide attempt. Writing on tumblr introduced me to my best friend, many dear friends, and my current romantic partner. It’s seen me through a really tough job, two cross-country moves, and some of my worst and lowest points. But with the word ‘racist’ following me at every turn, I no longer feel welcome or supported by what was once my favorite hobby and best coping mechanism.

The reason being labelled a racist has effected me so deeply is because I come from a multi-racial home. I am half Puerto Rican, one quarter African American, and one quarter white. I have tan skin, very hispanic features, and very curly, thick hair with dark brown eyes. I don’t look white. I grew up in a rural area where I was one of very few people of color in BOTH of the schools I attended, and I’ve never lived in very diverse areas in all my 21 years. I don’t believe I was treated any differently because of it, I never had any race-specific issues in my childhood, and I’m very lucky because of that. Sure, I’ve had a few ‘playful nicknames’ but nothing that ever hurt me as much as being bullied about my height, weight, or chest size.

My Grandmother is white and my Grandfather is black - they got together in the 60′s and dealt with a great deal of prejudice and hardship due to being an interracial couple. They and my mother raised me to look past what people look like on the outside - weight, height, gender, age, race, religion - they believe, and I believe that it shouldn’t matter. People should be judged and valued or ignored based upon their personalities. In a near-perfect society, that’s how everyone would feel, but ours is far from perfect. People of color are faced with violence, hate, and even murder on a daily basis all over the world - not just in America - and by no means has it ever been my intent to diminish that, I simply am deterred by conflict because it hurts me to see. 

Now that I’ve described myself, the way I’ve been affected, and my views on race and in/equality, I will explain my experience as a “racist”. For months, I’ve been blocked, shunned, and ignored due to this. I spent MONTHS not knowing why people were blocking me, why all of a sudden people I had been writing with and even admired for their graphic and literary skill were suddenly ignoring me and treating me like I was less than a stranger.

Because no one told me.

Not until sometime around perhaps September or October, when someone was finally kind and considerate enough to step out of their comfort zone and inform me that I’d made a comment about Black Panther without thinking about my wording. On Twitter, I said something to the effect of ‘Black Panther has too much black power for me’, something along those lines. What I should have said was: Black Panther was a good movie, and I liked Killmonger as an antagonist until he began building a highly advanced army of thousands of near-superpowered warriors and devastating militaristic technology to declare war on what was clearly intended to be Caucasians as a race. At that point, I became uncomfortable because racial war of any kind isn’t something I would have paid money to see in a theatre, had I known it was going to be included. But I didn’t say that because twitter has a character limit, and I didn’t think anyone wanted to read an entire thread of my review of what was, all in all, an excellent movie.

Another individual recently followed suit and gave me a few more examples of why people believe I’m racist and discriminatory.

1. I’ve used the “n” word on multiple occasions.          This is not true. I am incredibly uncomfortable around the use of that word, in any form, even it’s reclaimed version. I don’t like it. I don’t know where or when I would have used it before, but even as someone who is African-American and has multiple African-American family members who say it ‘affectionately’ to refer to each other, I have not EVER said that word. Not as a joke, and certainly not as an insult.

2. I hold people who speak English as a secondary, third, or otherwise language to a higher standard than those who do not.

       No. If anything, it’s the opposite. I strongly admire and respect anyone who speaks more than one language, as someone who only speaks English and very broken Spanish. I formerly had an RP partner whose first language is Spanish, and is very proud of their heritage. My father, who I’m no longer in contact with due to estrangement and abandonment, primarily speaks Spanish and I had no quarrel with him because of that.      Some contradictory things you may have read can be found here and here. These are screenshots from the rules page on an old blog of mine that I would rather not explicitly name, for the sake of privacy for people who used to interact with me. In these screenshots, I say “[Does] Understand that English is not everyone’s first language. It’s okay if you have some errors with grammar or spelling, as long as you’re making the best effort that you can.” perhaps that can come off as me saying ‘you have to try really hard if you want to write with me’, but in fact, it just meant that I wanted some manner of effort to be present. I.E., if I write 2 paragraphs, at least write one in response, rather than a single sentence. Could I have worded that better? Absolutely. But since realizing that can be perceived incorrectly, I removed it from my rules page entirely to avoid offending anyone.

        In the other screenshot, I mention not tolerating anyone who is ‘cis or heterophobic’. This ties back into my ideal of not seeing people for who they are on the outside, but rather, who they are on the inside. I’ve had great friendships with people who were either cisgendered, heterosexual, or both, and it upsets me to see all the jokes about ‘down with cishets’ and the hate that the LGBT+ community sends their way. I understand that being a ‘cishet’ doesn’t put them in any ‘legitimate’ danger like being LGBT+ does, but it doesn’t feel good to be judged for being LGBT+, so it doesn’t seem right to judge ANYONE based on sexuality or gender without personal experience. If someone has been repeatedly hurt, offended, or otherwise wronged by individuals of those designation, I understand, but mob mentalities frighten me. 

I’ve apologized for these accusations, and explained my reasoning and my ‘side’ behind them, and there’s one last thing I’d like to address. My being perceived as acting like a victim. This, I can’t contest. Perhaps I have been overly dramatic over this hole thing. Roleplay is a hobby, at the end of the day, and while it may not be a great one, I do have a life outside of Tumblr and Twitter. What I don’t have, however, is friends. My only friends are miles and miles away, and they’re few and far between. The ones I did have began telling me I was a racist, to me, seemingly out of nowhere. I had no clue when these things began to spread because again, I wasn’t confronted. I’ve lost two people I consider to be good friends, and I’ve been doing my best to keep to myself ever since. I stopped reaching out, out of fear that people would find me obnoxious or abrasive, not knowing how far my reputation had spread. The absolute last thing I wanted was to hurt anyone, so when I vented to my friends I asked them not to make a big deal out of it. I didn’t want them with the label as well. I didn’t want to see them ostracized, or to be the reason they lost a hobby they enjoyed. When one of them went against my wishes and said something on their blog, it was deemed ‘public drama that didn’t belong on the dash’ and I was TERRIFIED that they would end up losing the chance to interact with others. Thankfully they didn’t, but that’s the example I have. No, something like that didn’t necessarily belong on the dash, but they were simply trying to look out for me while watching me have an anxiety attack and contemplate dropping all of my muses and completely deleting all social media. I’ve moved twitters multiple times due to trust issues this whole ordeal has caused for my own mental health. I’ve hidden behind locked accounts because the thought of people who are triggered by public drama having to see something of this scale was at the forefront of my mind. In short, if it seemed as though I was playing the part of a victim, it’s because I have, for months, been confused and hurt without understanding what was going on. When I tried to move past it and remedy my mistakes, I was pushed away and hurt even more by people I called friends.

To sum the entirety of this long post up, I’m upset. Far more upset than perhaps I’ve conveyed here, because I’m doing my best to remain logical and fair. I understand why anyone who has heard these things about me would block me and would want to avoid contact - I wouldn’t want to interact with a racist either. But I’m not a racist. I’m not judgemental. I’m open-minded to a fault, it seems, and my ideal of perfect equality is unrealistic in the world we live in full of murder and segregation. If anyone would like to talk to me in more detail about anything they’ve read here, they may do so at my open twitter which is solely for responding to inquiries about my reputation, my tumblr blog here, which will no longer be active, or my personal discord, which is mad dog!#6346 .

There are likely many issues I forgot to address, or simply don’t know about, but I’d like to thank anyone who read this far. Your attention means more to me than I can express.

#racism tw #segregation tw #murder tw #prejudice tw #self harm tw #suicide mention tw #attempted suicide mention #suicide tw #homophobia mention #war tw #anxiety tw #anxiety attack tw #n word mention #n word tw #anxiety mention #supremacy tw

[pcnnydime]

Gentle heads up that I’m on hiatus but I have to say it on this blog, of all blogs.

Happy Veteran’s Day! Don’t forget to thank anyone in your life who is/has been in service for their hard work!

#🕱 .OUT OF AMMO

[pcnnydime]

  I love that these are the Big Thing instead of just rp ads. Bless this stupid island that promised us skateboards, backwards facing caps, cans of crystal pepsi, and posters of new boys on the block and didn’t deliver. 

ANYWAY.

  Go ahead and give this a like if you’re interested in building a relationship with Frank Castle! Feel free to see my follow post for a quick rundown, but most of the relevant info will be right here for the sake of convenience!

Friends. | Must be patient. Patience seriously is key. Frank has really bad trust issues, and a fear of losing people close to him. The level of friendship could vary of course, but he prefers someone good, with a strong sense of justice. If you want to get close to him, you need to be able to understand sarcasm, you have to be able to take some verbal hits on his bad days and some physical hits on his REALLY bad days when he can’t protect you. And more than anything, you have to be understanding. Frank has been through a lot. He lost his family, he was betrayed by his best friend, someone he considered a brother, and he’s been labelled a terrorist by the very city he spent so long trying to protect. 

Allies. | Must be a superhero, or a crime fighter in general. You’d have an easier time with this if your muse meets the typical ‘superhero’ standards without the fancy capes and masks. He’s been known to work rarely with capes, but most often, when he has to, he prefers to work with people who don’t hide. This role would likely include a lot of fight threads, some patching each other up after injuries, and a lot of give and take.

Rivals. | Open to villains and criminals of all shapes and sizes! Are you a bad guy? Do you enjoy killing innocent people? Then hoo boy is this the place for you! Please keep in mind that there are varying levels to this, as well. Frank doesn’t waste his time going after small fry - if you aren’t a killer, he won’t try to kill you. He’ll hate your guts, but he’s not a street cop, he doesn’t arrest people. If you ARE a killer, well. I strongly suggest you don’t interact with Frank unless you want your muse to constantly be on the run from or fighting him. He won’t stop until killers are dead, he doesn’t do half measures. The only killer he’s ever let live was because killing them would’ve been the easy way out. Letting them live was the bigger punishment. So there could be some potential for not being killed, but honestly? He’s gonna try to kill you.

Protector / Protected. | Are you smol? Easily frightened? Maybe you’re unlucky and frequently find yourself the victim of muggings and street crimes. If so, Frank would likely come to your rescue! This would be a good role to build up to friendship if you’re a fan of slow burn. It would likely involve fighting and injuries, so be aware of that beforehand. 

Drinking Buddies. | Struggling with moving cities? Got a tough life in general? Or maybe you just drink a lot! If any of these apply to your muse, then come be drinking buddies with Frank! He’s no doubt gonna be frequenting multiple bars and restaurants, plowing beer after beer. Open only to those whose muses drink as well.

Others. | Got an idea for a fun dynamic you think your muse would have? Hop in my ims after liking this and let me know what it is! I’m open to all kinds of ‘genres’ from fluff to angst, though if you’re interested in shipping, keep in mind that he is still mourning the loss of his family and that’s gonna take a lot of time and development. 

No matter what role catches your eye, please remember that Frank is a dark, troubled guy. Threads aren’t likely to stay lighthearted for long, at least not at first. He’s sarcastic and rude to anyone who isn’t a kid, and if your muse is easily offended, it might be best to find a situation in which he has to be friendly.

#🕱 .OUT OF AMMO #(( reblogging these bc i need to pick up activity before i can go on a hiatus hhh

[pcnnydime]

ahawkwardguy‌:

ubiytsar‌:

     “Please no. Don’t encourage him,” she said, wry. An eyebrow was quirked at the descriptor Clint gave her, but she said little else and simply regarded Frank with an acknowledging lift of her head, leaning out from behind Clint. Pal, huh? Interesting. But then again, Clint had always been much better at making pals than her.

      At another time, Natasha would have considered herself above such an action but in that moment, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Children. Even so, her exasperation was softened by the amused smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips. “Such flattery from you, Castle. Although I don’t know about that. Clint’s quite the catch.”

     Just to be annoying if that was the game they were playing, Natasha moved to curl her hand around Clint’s arm. Which also presented her the opportunity to dig her nails into his skin if required. Girls and wolves. Both had teeth and claws, after all. “It seems that I’m seeing a lot more of you at these parties than I am in some dingy alley. Unexpected, really.”

@ahawkwardguy​  >  @pcnnydime​

@pcnnydime ➸ @ubiytsar

“Free bird huh, that’s a great song.. not sure if I could do it justice.” Clint grinned, glancing between Natasha and Frank as they gave each other a more mild greeting. He wasn’t surprised they’d already met, for as big as this place was it sure was small. He was snickering at Frank’s comment and opened his mouth to completely agree, Natasha Romanoff was way out of his league - but she was quick to speak her mind on that which shut Clint’s mouth up pretty quickly. Was he quite a catch? 

A nervous laugh left him, “Ah ha… look who’s flattering now. She say’s that but all my other exes would say differently I’m sure.” More would have been said if Natasha’s arm hadn’t curled around his; which prompted him to reel himself back from further idiotic comments. He knew just how far she could throw him if she wanted.

Clint cleared his throat. “Yeah ’ didn’t expect to see you out. Lets snag a bonfire and enjoy some food?” He glanced at Natasha for approval, it’s what they came out to do anyway right?

@ubiytsar​ → @ahawkwardguy​

  He watched the two of them go at it with a raised brow and a hint of a grin. “Yeah, yeah, you two are just prince and princess charming, I get it.” They were partners, after all. Reminded him a bit of him and Micro. Only Frank liked to think he’d be the Natasha to Micro’s Clint. It was like a free comedy show, where Clint was the comedy. 

  “Can’t hibernate and crawl the streets all the time, yeah? Even I like to go out and have a beer sometimes.” Though he didn’t enjoy big crowds, it wasn’t so bad knowing there were no targets on his back here. He was as free as a bird (no pun intended), and mostly, he didn’t know what to do with that. “Sure, though. Bonfire and food, sounds fun. I love being the third wheel.” As self deprecating as the words sounded, his tone turned it all into a joke. It was... nice to hang out, again. 

  “You’ve still gotta sing, Barton. Got my hopes and everything.”

#ahawkwardguy #ubiytsar #.CLINT 05 #.NATASHA 03 #.EVENT 04 DEPTHS PT. 1

[pcnnydime]

“I lost my family. All of ‘em. It wasn’t It wasn’t too long ago. Not a day goes by, right? You wish things were different. You wish that you had done something different.“

#🕱 .RAVEN #🕱 .HOME #(( relevant to that last drabble js #FIRE TW

[pcnnydime]

Hell Broke Castle.

  There were screams in the air. Screams, and haunting sounds, like the groans of people in such pain that they didn’t know anything else. Frank didn’t have much on him beyond a knife and a bb gun, but it’d have to do. Being the do-gooder that he denied being, he ran headfirst toward the screaming just in time to watch a... well, it looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie. A woman was being attacked by what looked like zombies. He stepped between her and the monsters, driving his Ka-Bar into its skull at the temple. It went down with a satisfying sound and slumped into a gross pile. He took down the other two in a similar fashion easily enough, he’d watched enough zombie flicks to know a secret or two. By the time he was done, he turned back to the woman only to see that she had disappeared. Great. Hopefully she was alright.

  He continued on down the street following the sounds of screams when he could in the hopes that he could protect more people. But he didn’t get far before he was forced to stop in his tracks. One of them was familiar. One of them was... 

  “Gunner?”

  The monster groaned in response, as if to confirm Frank’s fear. He was still wearing that hunter gear, that stupid paint on his face... there was a hole in him. He looked exactly how Frank had left him, only like it had been a few months since. Because it had, hadn’t it? Frank had left him. “Goddammit... C’mon Gunner, don’t make me do this, brother!” But the monster didn’t care how Frank pleaded. He just... it just shambled toward him, arms extended to grab him. Castle backed up a few steps, shaking his head, hoping that would make this whole situation go away. But it didn’t. Gunner was dead, and it was Frank’s fault. “I’m so sorry... I promised you I’d bury you, I promised, and then I didn’t. You’re mad at me, yeah? Yeah... I’d be pissed, too. I’m sorry, brother.” Bitching and moaning wouldn’t fix anything, Castle. Just get it over with. When Gunner got close enough, Frank kicked his knee in with a sharp crack, making him fall to his knees. Castle looked his brother in arms in the eyes before driving his Ka-Bar into one with a shaky sigh. Gunner fell just like the others had, and a part of Frank fell too. He knelt down to close his eyes and say a prayer to a God he didn’t believe in anymore before he forced himself to keep going. There were people here who were still alive that needed his help.

  It had probably been about two hours - enough time for Frank to feel steady after Gunner, but not enough time for him to really be past it. The adrenaline helped. Fighting helped, it always did, but it wasn’t enough. Apparently whatever brought these people - these monsters - back wasn’t done toying with Castle because the next familiar faces were too much.

  “No, God no, not you too... I can’t...” Three of them, this time. Two smaller ones, and one bigger one. Two kids and their mother. His kids. His wife. Lisa, Frankie, and Maria. The sight alone brought tears to his eyes - The big bad Punisher with tears streaming down his face. For the first time he could remember, his hands shook in the face of danger. Little Lisa looked so... messy. He could barely tell it was her, except he’d remembered every last detail of what she wore that day. It played over and over in his head. Frankie looked better, but that wasn’t saying much. Tiny holes in a tiny man who deserved better than to be gunned down like an animal. And Maria... 

  “I can’t...” The kids were shambling toward him, but not Maria. Maria stood there, staring at him. Looking into his eyes, like she knew him, not like the others. She was still there, somewhere. She kept watching as Frank was forced to put his kids down for their second deaths. She watched as he yelled out in his own pain. Watched him fall to his knees and hold their rotting bodies close to his chest. And when he’d let his guard down, she’d walked closer until she was standing over him. Her hand was held out to him, just like when she helped him with Orange. She was giving him a second chance. Carefully, he set his kids down and just... looked up at her. “Yeah... I don’t have to, right? We can be together again, yeah? Home.” She was still beautiful in her way, and he wouldn’t be upset if she killed him. Slowly, he reached up for her hand. “Home.” There were worse ways to go, right?

  But as soon as their skin touched, whatever was left of her snapped and turned into the monster she looked like. With surprising strength, she grabbed the entirety of his arm and bit. Took a chunk out of him while he yelled out in a different kind of pain. Years of combat training fueled by adrenaline took over, and before he could even think, her grip loosened. He opened his eyes and looked, and his knife was in her skull. She was looking him in the eyes, and he could swear that she was smiling just before the last of whatever life had been driving her faded away. “Maria? Maria, baby, no... come on, come on, wake up.” She collapsed into his arms, and he didn’t care about the stinging, burning pain in his forearm as he held her. “Come on... not again, don’t do this to me, baby. Open your eyes, you hear me? I’ll come home with you, I’ll stay home. I won’t go back, just come home.” But she didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She didn’t anymore. He still saw her, but she never answered. His pleas broke off into open sobs as he hugged her tight, burying his face in her rotting neck, hiding away from the sight of the deaths he’d caused a second time. “Home...”

#🕱 .MEMORIES #🕱 .NIGHTMARES #GORE TW #CHILD DEATH TW #(( under the cut for length and spoilers #(( spoilers are kept minor tho i did my best #(( tldr; frank had to kill his family again and also he got bit #.EVENT 05 DEPTHS PT. 2

[pcnnydime]

amidstwalkers‌:

Darkness took to the city much quicker than she planned. The cool feeling that settled on her skin was a good forewarning of nightfall, yet her focus on the task at hand was enough of a distraction to miss it. Last she checked, the time read something about it being a little past midnight. Great. Not the best time to be out.. in any universe, probably.

Rounding the corner of the alley, she immediately hit something, no, someone— the back of a person who towered over her. Their face seemed hidden, clothes dark as the night around them.. body built like a fighter. Her hand wavers over her ever so useful wooden knife but honestly she didn’t want to pick a battle she knew she wouldn’t win. It was only out of caution — caution she hoped they wouldn’t take as hostility.

“Shit. Sorry. I didn’t expect to bump into anyone.” she mutters, backing up as she was hoping not to attract more unwanted attention. “No trouble. Was trying to avoid it. I’ll just.. leave you now.. and try to figure my way out of this hell hole.”

  Frank had gotten used to walking the streets at night time. It was more comfortable for him than the day time. Less people trying to bother him... less noise. Less distractions. At present, he was looking for trouble in hopes of stopping that trouble. At least he had a real gun now, and a knife - unlike when he first got here. He’d been so wrapped up in looking out for trouble makers that he hadn’t noticed the teen until she bumped into him.

  “Easy, you’re good, kid.” He held his hands out, palms forward to show he wasn’t about to jump her. Unlike half the people that hung around dark alleyways at night. “If you’re lost, I can try to help you figure out how to get home. I’ve been here for a while now, might be able to help.” And even if she said she didn’t want his help, Frank wasn’t about to let a teenage girl wander around by herself unprotected. She didn’t look a thing like Lisa, but she reminded him of her anyway. That, and he’d caught a glimpse of that wooden knife. He’d seen plenty of people with those before. “Here, show of good faith.” He reached for his belt holster and pulled out his KA BAR, then held it out to her. “You can carry it ‘til we get where we’re goin’.”

#(( i'm so sorry this took so long lkfdngld #amidstwalkers #.CLEMENTINE 01

[pcnnydime]

ahawkwardguy‌:

ubiytsar‌:

@ahawkwardguy  >  @pcnnydime

     Bundled in the crook of her arm was a ball of fur, features barely distinguishable against his It black coat in the dark of night. It had taken some cajoling, but Natasha had managed to convince her cat to accompany them to the first night of the festival. It had taken slightly less cajoling for Clint to join her as well. 

     Though the whole premise was much too sentimental for the spy, she had grown bored. Most of this new city’s citizens seemed to be behaving themselves for the time being. That, and she heard that there was to be a bonfire, and even the most solitary creatures were drawn to light.

     ”Please don’t so something that’ll draw attention to us like break into song and dance,” she teased, dry and half-serious.

@pcnnydime ➸ @ubiytsar

“You can’t treat that cat like a dog ‘Tasha.. they don’t take walks.” At least, no cat Clint had ever met liked being leashed. It very likely helped that a leash wasn’t involved in this case. Clint had been easily drawn out by the promise of food being involved, especially when none currently sat in the fridge of his shared home. That and, Natasha could really talk him into doing just about anything.

He wasn’t too keen on the premise of the night, but even if they didn’t participate in the sentimental side they could still enjoy the fire, food, and company. It was nice to have days off.

“Well now you’re just askin’ to be publicly embarrassed by me.” He teased back, “What should I sing then? Time Warp? I could do that dance too.” As he teased back at her Clint turned and saw another friendly face. He rose his hand to catch Frank’s attention. “Yo Castle! What do you think I should sing? ‘Tasha hear asked me not too so I think I should. Oh right.” Had they met before? “Natasha this is my pal Frank Castle, Castle, this is my… life long partner in crime.”

@ubiytsar​ → @ahawkwardguy​

  This whole festival was... well, it sounded nice, but it just made Frank think. Think about all the people he’d left behind back in Hell’s Kitchen when he got here, and all the people he’d gotten killed. Maria, the kids, Gunner... hell, how many times had Karen almost died because of him? This was supposed to be some kind of... celebration, not a brood-fest, but Castle couldn’t help it. He’d lost just about everything important to him, and he couldn’t even finish getting his revenge here.

  But then Clint dragged Frank from his moping with a silly question. He had a lot of those. “Sing Free Bird. Everybody asks for Free Bird, yeah?” And then Barton pointed out Natasha and Frank just grinned to himself a little. Of course these two were friends. “We’ve met, but I didn’t know you two were uh... partners in crime.” He knew he was acting like a fourth grader, but he didn’t care. They probably weren’t really a thing, but Frank was going to pick on them regardless. “That’s cute, but I gotta say Barton, she might be a little out of your league.”

#ubiytsar #ahawkwardguy #.NATASHA 03 #.CLINT 05 #.EVENT 04 DEPTHS PT. 1

[pcnnydime]

💛

send me one of the following symbols and i’ll make a moodboard for my character.

                                                     💛 for a moodboard about our muses’ relationship

#(( this took so long wow #🕱 .AESTHETIC #🕱 .STILL GOING #ubiytsar

[pcnnydime]

fxrebxrn‌:

Eyebrows are furrowed and lips are pursed. She can feel this cold and uncomfortable chill. That is a sharp weapon. “Right.” Her lips feels so dry and her throat feels as if she hadn’t had water in THOUSANDS of years. “Why not get one?” Can he hear it? The little tremble in her voice. She didn’t MEAN to stare. She should’ve just kept walking, but at first she had seen the can of beans. Was curious as to why he was eating it outside, and WHY beans? Should she have known he was holding something sharp, she would’ve hauled ass out of there before she was stuck in fear.

  She looks... disturbed. What, has she never seen someone stab a can open before? Plenty of people did it.

  “Why get one when I got a perfectly good knife? Rather spend the money on food than stuff to eat the food with, yeah?” He reaches into the can with his knife, scooping out some of the beans and carefully eating them off the blade. Then, he extends the can slightly toward her. He’s not normally one to share, but what can he say? He’s got a soft spot for kids. “You want some?”

#(( blebsed and also sorry for the spooks anna love u #.ANNASTASIA 01 #fxrebxrn

[pcnnydime]

💟

Character Quiz Meme

                                       Send in 💟to find out what kind of ‘dere’ my muse is

You are a Kuudere!

  You are rather cold, blunt, and cynical. It’s rather rare for you to become close to someone. Rather emotionless, you rarely show your caring side and will only show it with someone you are super comfortable with.

#(( i want you to know i hated this but also it's accurate #🕱 .STILL GOING #🕱 .RESTRICTED #anglerfishnabe

[pcnnydime]

Character Quiz Meme

Send in a symbol to find out what my muse’s results were and whether I think it’s accurate or not. Send in 🔮 to see my muse’s Meyer-Briggs Result Send in 🧠to see my muse’s Enneagram Result  Send in 🧙 to see my muse’s Hogwarts House Result  Send in ⭐to see my muse’s Homestuck ‘True Sign’ Send in 🎨to see what famous work of art my muse is. Send in 🎉to find out what role my muse plays in a friend group Send in ☯️to see my muse’s psychological archetype Send in 🎭to find out which of The Four Temperaments my muse is Send in 💟to find out what kind of ‘dere’ my muse is Send in ⚔️ to find out what my muse’s moral alignment is. Send in 😈 to find out which Disney Villain my muse is Send in 💖 to find out what my muse’s Love Language scores are

#(( oh yeah this one looks fun! #🕱 .GET UP

[pcnnydime]

ahawkwardguy‌:

If there was one way to get Clint to come out it was certainly with food he didn’t have to buy- aka free food. He wasn’t much of a glutton to begin with, but if the food was free? There he was. He was shoving a plain hotdog into his pocket for the pup back in his room when a familiar voice reached him.

He gave Frank a look before giving a shrug. “There any other reason to come out?” Other than to show off at festival games? Clint took a bite of his own hotdog loaded with condiments, then tossed a piece of another dog in the air for Lucky to catch. Mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise and relish were on his face. The hotdogs were free, so obviously he had about six on him. “ ’s fine, can’t kick anybody in the face just yet but I think I can walk without a limp.”

  “Pet people’s dogs... but yeah, food’s the biggest reason.” And speaking of dogs, it was good to see Lucky again. Good to see both of them again, really, but especially the dog. 

  “Good to see you’re doin’ better, yeah.” His gaze shifted from the dog to Clint’s leg, memory drifting back to that fight. Barton throwing himself in front of that monster, Castle beating her face in until it was barely a face anymore. Shit... for a minute there, he really thought Clint died, or he was gonna die. Maybe he should’ve had a little bit more faith in an Avenger, but they were all just human at the end of the day. Except that one guy. 

  He sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of excited squeals and the bells of various games off in the not-so-distance. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. Reminded him of the park. The merry go round. He liked fair food, always had, but... there weren’t good memories anymore. He’d lost a lot. Done a lot of stupid shit, gotten a lot of people hurt. “...Not sure if I already said it, but... thanks, Barton.”

#ahawkwardguy #.CLINT 04

[pcnnydime]

ubiytsar‌:

     A genuine sense of curiosity washed over the spy as her eyes flickered between the sea and Frank. She knew that look. Had worn it herself. Long, long ago, before the Red Room, before the Black Widow, before everything. When she had just been one of the many children raised in the midst of war. When she had to bury her poor, dead daughter where she couldn’t bury her baby’s father. She didn’t know Frank well enough, even the version of him back home, to understand why.

     He wouldn’t answer if she asked now if ever, she knew, so Natasha filed the question away for another day. One day.

     She was glad for the sudden change in his demeanour, even if it was to reluctantly agree to her half-serious request. A real grin flashed the whites of Natasha’s teeth, just for a moment, before she was hauling herself up from the bench as well. “Don’t flatter yourself, Castle. Don’t worry about that. You’re not really my type.” She would have hooked a hand around his elbow in her teasing if she didn’t think that would be taking it too far. Ever the provocateur Natasha was. 

      “I’d appreciated it though. So will my cat, mostly. He’s much too spoilt.”

  At the sight of her grinning, Frank couldn’t help but flash a small smirk in response. He was still in a pretty shit mood - never had been one for parties - but he needed to get his mind off of home. He couldn’t go back. And even if he could, they wouldn’t be there. No, he had to look at this place like a kind of... vacation. A really shitty vacation with no end in sight.

  “That’s a helluva relief, ‘cuz you’re not my type either.” Not that anyone was his type anymore. Romance and anything related was about the last thing on his mind at any given moment. Even with all this time to live his life without fight after fight, Frank wasn’t looking to settle down. “Didn’t know you had a cat, though. Makes sense... you look like a cat person. Shame.”

  He started walking toward the festivities at a leisurely pace, pulling his hood back up out of reflex. Not that he’d blend in standing next to someone like her - they were probably lucky that there hadn’t already been a sleazeball coming up to hit on her. “Dogs are better.”

#ubiytsar #.NATASHA 02 #(( four years later but this is still cute as heck

[pcnnydime]

cxmandius‌:

The restaurant in question was rather small, yet still filled with a decent quantity of customers curious of alien cuisine. To Shepard however, it became her favorite place in Spirale. She had wandered absentmindedly into the establishment, hungry yet without any particular foods in mind. Yet once she peeked at their menu, she was immediately gripped with longing for home. 

And what better way to celebrate than with a glass of uncut Batarian ale?

The commander was careful in savoring each drop of the sickeningly green liquid. She was never too fond of consuming Earth liquor on a regular basis, finding them far too insipid for her palate. Sadly not everyone agreed as her blissful moment was interrupted by a stranger staring into her glass.

She met his scrutinizing face with a glare, “It’s called alcohol. Y’know, the stuff that makes you do crazy things in the middle of the night? The happy juice?”

  He scoffed at her attitude. Not offended, no, more amused than anything. It wasn’t every day someone saw a guy as rough as Frank Castle, looked him in the eye, and straight sassed him like that. She had more balls than half the guys he’d met around here so far.

  “Happy juice, huh? Fair enough... never seen it that color before, that’s all.” He went back to his food and coffee, sitting in silence for an uninterrupted moment before curiosity overtook him once again. “Does it uh... does it taste any good?” 

#cxmandius #.SHEPHARD 01. #(( not sure if you're keeping her #(( figured i'd respond just in case #tw: alcohol

[pcnnydime]

🏠 for a moodboard about my muse’s home aesthetics | if no one sent this yet!

send me one of the following symbols and i’ll make a moodboard for my character.

                                                     🏠 for a moodboard about my muse’s home aesthetics

#🕱 .AESTHETIC #🕱 .STILL GOING #(( it's a mosh posh of mcu frank and isola frank #(( but the important things are weapons and solitude #(( thanks for sending too!! #amidstwalkers

[pcnnydime]

🍕

send me one of the following symbols and i’ll make a moodboard for my character.

                                                     🍕 for a moodboard about my muse’s favorite foods

#🕱 .AESTHETIC #🕱 .STILL GOING #tw: food #tw: alcohol #((can u tell he's american #heilengel