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sunshinevanfleet · 1 year

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use somebody - j. kiszka

pairing: jake x reader

a/n: hi there everyone! this one is for u @goldlionsilversun for inspiring me to write this<3 it is loosely based on the song 'use somebody' by kings of leon, so give that a listen if you so desire. i hope everyone enjoys. pls let me know ur thoughts. ok love u bye

genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), angst

word count: 3.7k

summary: jake vents his frustrations to the reader. some truths come out.

warnings: alcohol consumption, oral (m receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, angst, explicit sex scenes, etc.

“Rock ‘n roll’s not always sunshine and rainbows, you know.” A small, bratty smile played on Jake’s lips as he lifted the beer bottle to his lips. He looked at you out of the corner of his eye as he drank, his eyes taking in your expression.

“What makes you say that?” You lifted an eyebrow at him curiously. He kicked back in his chair, bare feet propped on the little ottoman in front of him. His figure looked strangely out of place in your hotel room, so relaxed in the foreign place. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, ripped apart in your heated struggle against one another only minutes before; it was strange how quickly the two of you went from fondling each other to an existential discussion.

He emptied his drink, tossing the bottle easily into the trash bin in the corner. He folded his arms behind his head. His glassy eyes bored into you intensely; you squirmed a bit in your own seat across from him.

“So many things…” he sighed heavily. The heavy expression on his face made him look suddenly older; he looked as if he were carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders.

“It can’t be too bad,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “Waking up in a new city every morning. Meeting new people. Having thousands of people screaming your name.” You smiled cheekily.

The corner of his lips turned up, but he shook his head. “Who gives a shit how many people are screaming your name, if you don’t have anyone just saying it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean– picture this…” He splayed his hands out in front of him, as if lifting a poster into the air. “You’ve got all of these people who think they know you… They think they love you. They care about you in some parasocial way, of course, but…” he sighed again. “You’ve got no one there who actually knows you. Who actually cares about you.”

You frowned. “Jake, I’m sure there are plenty of people who actually care about you.”

He laughed. It was a humorless sound, almost bitter.

“That’s not what I mean, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure exactly what he meant.

“The sex is fine,” he said, continuing on in his explanation.

“Just fine?”

“Just fine,” he said, voice almost bored. “Got about a dozen girls to keep my bed warm, sure, but what’s any of that good for?”

An amused smile graced your lips. You were too drunk to be having this discussion, and so was he. The whole thing was all over the place. You came up here just to be another one of those dozen girls, as you had time and time again. But sometimes you got your angsty Jake; every now and then, you were his escape. His person to vent to.

“Yet you keep coming back,” you said softly. He looked at you as if you had grown another head. He hated when you made sense, when you made him realize he had a part in all of his own problems. Whose fault was it that he kept fucking a different girl in every city?

“What?”

“You keep hooking up with random girls, instead of settling down. That’s what you’re getting at, right? You want someone who sees you… You want someone who’s yours.”

“Sure,” he said, still not following.

“But you don’t let yourself have it.”

“You’re saying this is my fault.”

“I’m saying you have a part in it, Jake,” you said reasonably. “You put all these walls up, all of these protections. The only time you’re vulnerable is when you’re drunk.”

“That’s not true,” he said. He almost sounded hurt.

“Well, that’s the only time you’re vulnerable with me. Of course, I wouldn’t know anything about your everyday life. You only call me when you want some ass.”

“That’s not true, either.”

He was looking hurt, now. His eyes softened, but you could see how hard he clenched his jaw. One of his hands picked at the frayed upholstery of the chair, his finger finding a string and twisting it roughly around his finger.

“I dunno,” you said, with a little more empathy, “it sometimes feels that way to me, at least. I never see you outside of these shitty hotel rooms.”

It was true; your only in-person meetings were hookups in stuffy hotel rooms, his dressing room, and the tour bus occasionally. You knew he was closer to you than most of the other girls he was sleeping with. The two of you could almost be considered good friends. You texted often, if not every day, and facetimed once or twice a week. But you had never been together outside of fucking each other once or twice every blue moon, when you ended up in the same city at the same time.

“I still talk to you outside of these places,” he said, voice weak. “It’s not like– like with the others. I can actually talk to you.”

“Okay,” you said, regretting your previous words. “That was harsh, I’ll admit it… But I’d still like to see you outside of these four walls.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

The two of you were quiet. He stared out of the sliding glass door, out onto the balcony. You stared at him. Seeing him looking so torn apart made your stomach do a turn. His glossy eyes watched a plane passing by, miles and miles away, lights flickering in the darkness. You couldn’t tell if his eyes were wet from the drinks or because he was upset. You fidgeted with one of your rings, worried.

“I need a minute,” Jake breathed after a moment. He pushed out of the chair and ambled out onto the balcony, leaving the door cracked behind him. You pulled your bare feet up into your own chair, tucking them beneath you. Outside, Jake leaned over the balcony railing, breathing in the night. You recognized that he was probably feeling trapped by your presence, but still you wanted to go out there to him. Snake your arms around his waist and press your face into his back. You wanted to be skin-to-skin with him, breathing in the scent of his skin mixed with the cheap beer he had been drinking.

Several long, dragging minutes passed. You wondered if you should just leave, even though it was your hotel room. Being by yourself began to feel like the only option; when Jake got into one of his moods, it was very hard to drag him out. You didn’t want to leave him, but he was the type to close-off and run if you pushed him too far. Even worse, there was the possibility that he would storm off and find another girl to blow off his steam with. That was almost too much to handle.

He was able to breathe for almost ten minutes before you couldn’t take the aching silence anymore. You padded over to the glass door, and joined him outside. Without a word, you shuffled up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You rested your cheek against his back, smelling the leftover cologne and tangy scent of his sweat mingling on the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly. Your voice was barely audible over the sound of the busy streets below; it was early enough for people to still be out bar-hopping and being too loud in public. Even several stories up, Friday nights were always loud in the city after hours. “I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole back there.”

“‘S okay,” Jake said, though it didn’t sound like it was. “Just been having a hard time lately. I know it sounds cliche, but nobody understands.”

“No,” you agreed. “I guess I can’t understand what’s going through that pretty little head of yours.”

He chuckled lightly at your words.

“But I can listen, and I can be here for you. If you want me to, that is.”

With a deep breath, you felt him relax slightly under your touch. He wriggled in your arms, spinning around to face you. Leaning back against the railing, he was silhouetted by the shining red lights from the dive bar across the street. The air seemed to glow around him, enhancing his soft features and making him look even more upset. You reached for him, one of your hands pressing delicately against the side of his face. Tracing your thumb over his cheek, down to the corner of his lips, you pressed closer to him. He was beautiful, in a broken sort of way.

“You just gonna stare at me all night?”

You smiled. “God, I’m trying to have a moment here with you, Jake.”

His lips turned up, though it didn’t completely meet his eyes. “I’d like to have more than a moment with you, my dear,” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He leaned into you, his nose brushing yours as he hovered less than an inch away. His warm breath tickled your lips and cheeks as he eyed you.

“Guess it’s your turn to stare at me, then, huh?”

Your snarky reply was cut off by him pressing his mouth against yours. The kiss was slow, but there was an undertone of desperation to it. His lips were soft, like rose petals, pressing against yours firmly. He hooked one finger under your chin, lifting your face closer to his, opening you up for him. You clutched at the fabric of his shirt, bunching it in your hand as you tried your best to pull him even closer. The two of you stumbled drunkenly, pressing him back against the railing. Your skin was burning against his, you dressed in only your bra and his shirt halfway off.

One of your hands slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders. He surrendered to you for a moment, taking his hands off of you for one second to shrug the fabric off before he was all over you again. One hand found the back of your neck and the other tangled roughly in your hair; you moaned against his lips–this was your Jake, fiery and burning against you. You clutched at his shoulder with one hand, while your other hand snaked between your bodies. Your fingers found the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button with practiced ease. Teasingly, you dragged your fingertips over the clothed form of his bulge, already straining against his pants.

He sighed against you, hips twitching imperceptibly. Your lips parted for half a second, both of you catching your breath before diving back in. At this, your hand pushed beyond the fabric of his jeans and underwear, finding his throbbing length.

He hissed then, feeling your fingertips touching him, whispering against the skin. You touched him just enough for him to feel it, your thumb ghosting over him to spread out the moisture from his leaking tip. You swallowed his moan with a smile, pleased that you had this effect on him. A second later, you pushed him back, pulling your raw lips away from him.

“What are you doing?” he asked impatiently, watching as you carefully peeled his pants down, exposing his cock to the cool night air.

“Seems like you need some special attention, Jakey.” You dropped to your knees without a second thought. You gazed up at him through your lashes as you tied your hair back from your face. The view of him from this angle was salacious, his hair slicked down on his forehead, eyes hooded as he watched you expectantly. A nasty little grin played on your lips as you finally leaned into him, gathering saliva in your mouth and licking a long, slow stripe up the underside of his cock. As you reached the tip, you gently parted your lips around him, swirling your tongue tenderly around the tip.

Jake groaned, a low, gravelly sound that sent a jolt down your spine and straight to your core. You couldn’t wait for him to lose his patience; you loved teasing him to the point of no return, loved getting him so worked up that he’d fuck you until the muscles in your legs seized up and you couldn’t walk. You drooled around his cock at the thought, ever so slowly bobbing your head and suckling softly. You couldn’t give him too much– you had to keep him just on the edge of toe-curling pleasure until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“God, fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, throwing his head back.

You hollowed your cheeks around him, speeding up your movements for a second before slowing down again, and repeating your ministrations over and over. You used one of your hands to hold his hips back against the balcony railing, while the other joined your mouth on his cock. Your movements had increased from slow and sensual to almost aggressive, thrusting him quickly towards his climax. As you flicked your tongue against the vein at the base of his cock, you could feel his thighs trembling slightly. Little whimpered moans and breathy pants of your name poured from his lips; he was so pretty standing there above you, unable to look you in the eyes as you took care of him. You adored the way he gazed down at you, almost hypnotized, then looked away as he became bashful at the sounds he was letting out.

Trying to ignore the needy throbbing between your own legs, you pushed yourself to the limit. Tears filled your eyes as you took him completely to the base, the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat as you moaned around him. He moaned sharply, one of his hands tangling into your hair once again.

“Ah, Y/N, enough,” he hissed, pulling against the strands of your hair. You groaned in protest around him, still swirling your tongue with determination. Another pointed moan left his lips, but he still was pulling you away. “I said enough,” he growled, voice tinged with frustration. He dragged you up to your feet, one hand in your hair and the other gripping your arm.

You stared at him, wide-eyed with an excited sort of fear. Licking your lips, you looked at him with those doe eyes and waited for his next move.

“Feeling like a dirty girl tonight, huh?” The hand that was wrapped around your arm moved to circle around your throat. Your heart thrummed excitedly at the feeling of his calloused fingers pressing into the delicate, unmarked skin of your neck. He squeezed, perhaps harder than intended, and you winced as he pressed his lips to yours. A breathy sigh left your lips, the pain deliciously blooming beneath his fingers. You were dripping at the thought of what was coming next: Jake dragging you back into the room to drill you into the mattress.

But you were wrong.

“Think you need to be punished, my dirty girl,” he muttered as he pulled out of the kiss. “When I tell you to do something, you do it. You understand?”

“Hmm, yes, sir,” you responded. A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes; he knew you loved it when he treated you like a disobedient little brat.

“That’s right, baby,” he said, tracing his touch over the finger-shaped bruises blooming on your neck. He pulled your hair sharply, exposing your throat to him fully. He trailed his mouth down your jawline, marking the skin with his teeth before finding your neck and sucking a few marks into the skin. You writhed in his grip, desperate for him to get his hands on the rest of you. At this rate, you were going to orgasm from the gravelly sound of his voice egging you on.

“Take these off,” he hooked one finger into the waistband of your pants and snapped the waistband against your skin. You bit your lip; it crossed your mind to disobey him again, to see just how worked up you could get him, but you caught the look in his eyes and knew he wasn’t in a joking mood tonight. He was going to ruin you. You removed the pants, goosebumps prickling your burning skin as the cool night air surrounded you.

His eyes drank you in for a moment, dragging over the curves and valleys of your body hungrily. He bit his lip, taking a deep breath before he reached for you again. He directed you towards the balcony railing, pushing you against it. He placed one hand in the center of your back and pushed down, bending you over the cool metal. You hissed as it bit into your skin, but the pain was nothing in comparison to his burning touch. His other hand traced a path down your spine, over the curve of your ass, and found its way in between your legs. You were soaked clean through your panties, even your thighs were sticking together, slick with your arousal. Jake groaned throatily at the sight.

“You’re a fucking mess for me, baby,” he said, a dark chuckle tumbling from his lips.

“Only for you,” you said, voice shaky. Your legs were weak already; he practically had you on your tip-toes, chest pushed over the side of the railing; his body pressing you against the metal was the only thing keeping you grounded. The thrill of it all was only making you more needy for him.

There was a smile in his tone as he spoke again, “Look at you, baby, being all sweet for me now.” His palm traced up your soaked slit and found your ass, rubbing lovingly against the skin. “Oh, it’s just too bad I’m gonna have to mark this pretty little ass up…”

You gasped at his words, the hand quickly following his sentence with a sharp slap against your ass. You bit your lip to keep from crying out, your brows pulled together at the delightful pain spreading over your skin. Your core was throbbing desperately at this point, clenching around nothing. You needed him so badly you thought you might scream.

“Jake, please,” you breathed, unable to even form a proper sentence.

“Please, what?” he asked, voice curious.

“Just please, please do something,” you whined.

He laughed again. “I am doing something sweetheart…”

You groaned. At that, there was another ringing slap and burning pain blooming over the same spot. You knew you were going to be sore tomorrow, his handprint stained into your skin like a red and purple mosaic underneath your clothes. The sweet torture of his hand landing blows against you came again, and again as you begged him for mercy. By the end of it all, you were trembling so badly and aching between your legs so much that you were practically on the edge. As soon as he touched you, you thought you were going to explode.

Your dear Jake wasted no time.

“Ready for me, sweet baby? Ready for me to finish torturing your aching little pussy?” His words dripped with pure lust, hot and breathy in your ear. The spanking had done as much for him as it had for you, and that fact made things even worse. You squirmed wildly as he finally pressed against you, swollen tip finding your entrance with ease.

“Fuck me, please Jake,” you cried out. Your hands shook as you gripped the metal railing pressed into your stomach. There would be another mark for you to worry about in the morning, but you didn’t care. Jake bottomed out inside of you and an obscene noise tore from your lips, luckily still drowned out by the sound of the city below.

Sweat poured down your face as you grew dizzy at the feeling of his hips slamming into you. You could barely see, your vision swimming as your orgasm approached at the speed of light. Your knees had collapsed minutes ago, but Jake and the railing held you in place as he drilled into you. The pair of you were soaked through with your arousal, filthy wet noises joining the chorus of both of your moans and whines as he fucked you ruthlessly.

“Y/N, I need you to cum,” Jake breathed, pressing his forehead against your back. His lips found the skin of your shoulder, kissing you gently. The feeling drove you crazy, how gentle he was being despite his unwavering pace fucking into you. “I need you to cum, baby, I’m not gonna last much longer.” His breath fanned over your back.

He needn’t tell you twice. With a few more hard thrusts, his cock had you flying into your climax. You cried out his name, eyes squeezed shut so tightly that a thousand colors bloomed behind your eyelids. He rode you through your orgasm, hips growing shaky as he tried his hardest to hold his own off. You came down, still clenching around him, and he forced himself to pull out of you. His release painted the skin of your back, warm against your cooling skin. You breathed deeply as you pushed away from the balcony railing. The ache was finally beginning to settle into your body; you were sore all over.

Jake buttoned his pants back up, and retrieved his shirt from the floor so you could wear it. You hobbled clumsily back into the hotel room, letting him close the door behind the two of you.

“I’ll get you a rag,” he said gently, as you flopped face-down onto the bed. He returned from the bathroom, unhooking your bra and using the rag to wipe all his cum off of your skin. As he stood, one of his hands gently rubbed over the raw skin of your bare ass. You winced. “Sorry, baby.”

“‘S okay,” you muttered, voice weak. You were exhausted. He returned again, patiently dressing you in his shirt and buttoning it halfway. You muttered a garbled thanks, dazed as he joined you in your bed, curled up beneath the covers.

“Would now be a bad time to say that I was talking about us earlier?”

“What?” you asked. A yawn played on your lips, and you breathed him in as he snaked his arms around you. You buried your face into his neck.

“I just– I don’t wanna be fuckbuddies anymore, Y/N. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

You smiled against his skin, pressing your lips gently to his throat.

“‘Bout time you came out and said it.”

#jake x reader #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka imagine #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet #gvf smut #gvf x reader #gvf imagine #gvf #my writing #queue are my special

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ask-the-becile-boys · 2 months

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Story. Seeya, Kid

Previous | Next

[ID: Fourteen digitally sketched panels in black and white.]

[Panel 1: Imani stands in front of Scratch and wipes the tears from her eye with the ball of her right hand. She says, "I know something didn't add up. I knew it! Thank you for bringing him home, Mister (ellipses) uh (ellipses)"]

[Panel 2: Scratch makes the ASL sign for "life" while looking appreciatively at The Skull, who looks back fondly, venting a bit of smoke. Scratch says, "This is The Skull. He saved my life. He's a good friend."]

[Panel 3: Imani leans to the side, looking past Scratch and raising a brow questioningly. She asks, "And (ellipses) them?"]

[Panel 4: From left to right, Dee, Riker, Hare, and The Jack stand by the side of the van, everyone except Dee waving. Dee is holding Tatters. Riker is smoking a cigarette, and Hare and The Jack are letting off clouds of smoke. Scratch says in overlay, "His family. My friends."]

[Panel 5: The Skull turns away, putting his hat back on, and says to Scratch, "We ought to get going. Take care of yourself, Royce." Scratch starts tearing up again.]

[Panel 6: Scratch lunges and hugs The Skull, who is slightly taken aback. SFX: -hug!-]

[Panel 7: The Skull hugs Scratch back, closing his eyes and looking sentimental. SFX: (ellipses) -hug-]

[Panel 8: The Skull walks away, smiling, an oily tear running down his face, and letting off smoke. Scratch, still teary, watches him go. No text.]

[Panel 9: Scratch makes the ASL sign for 'I love you.' He says, "Bye, guys. I love you."]

[Panel 10: There is light shading on this picture. Hare, The Skull, and The Jack stand side by side, smiling and smoking. Hare folds his arms and says, "Yeah (ellipses)"]

[Panel 11: There is light shading on this picture. Riker and Dee stand side by side, Riker taking his cigarette in hand to smile, Dee looking down at Tatters with a small smile and making her wave her paw. Hare says in overlay, "Seeya, kid."]

[Panel 12: Simple drawings of the five all looking perturbed. There is a lot of smoke coming from the three robots, who look toward the right of frame. Threee neighbors start shouting: "Hey, is there a (all caps) fire??" "Where's that smoke coming from?" "Should I call 911?!" Riker points over his shoulder with a thumb, brows lowered, and says, "Okaaay Everyone back in the van."]

[Panel 13: The Beciles' van takes off around the street corner with SFX: all caps screee, cartoonishly going up on the left side wheels to show how sharp the turn is. Imani says to Scratch, "You made some strange friends." Scratch says, "I did."]

[Panel 14: The back of the van, puttering away. Scratch says in overlay, "I hope (ellipses) No (ellipses) I know they'll be OK." End ID]

#becile bots #steam powered giraffe #fanbots #story update #blog art #seeya kid #scratch becile #the skull becile #hare becile #the jack becile #riker szarka #dee becile #imani ellis #tatters the taxidermy clockwork cat

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magicratfingers · 10 months

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hi!!! ive been putting off sending this ask bc idk how to phrase it in the best way but … ive been trying to work on my drawing lately even tho the Voice that wants to give up bc im not immediately good at things is VERY strong !!! & i love your work so much + ive been taking a lot of inspo bc its kinda scribbly and pared-down but still really expressive + differentiated (i.e. im just saying its something i feel like i can try match the vibe of rather than like, a very detailed and refined thing?!?! absolutely not my intention to sound rude at all!!!) .

anyway very rambly but the main thing is ive been struggling a lot w figure+perspective+silhouettes and honestly everything so i was just wondering what ur process was like??? particularly bc ur style is more pared back but everything is so cohesive and all the perspective n posing is perfect. i’m curious sketching/planning is involved before a typical work you’d upload? and idk like……. how much technical skill + consideration goes into a drawing especially re: posing & perspective. just bc i feel like Such a Noob and like my eyes r literally wrong and nothing looks Right. im such a type A planner it just feels like maybe idk am i supposed to be educating myself on figure drawing and shading perspective first??!?! or do i just draw until it’s good?!?!?

idk man i create in a lot of different mediums and i feel super comfortable letting my writing be terrible before it’s good but w drawing the self-critique is SO difficult to ignore. thanku for what turned out to be a vent lol. but i would appreciate any insight! also i love your art ok bye

Hi! yeah great ask. I've been there. Live there, even. Here're two of my comfort hacks

1. Scribbles = Bonsai It can be real hard to know when you're 'done' with an illustration (or anything really) if you don't have a job for it. My doodles are 'done' to me if they have Character, Rhythm, & Balance. I stole that from a youtube doc about Bonsai.

2. Figures / Perspectives / Shading = Planning The Chunks These are kind of all the same thing - 'how am I using volume to say something.' I've found formal perspective stuff to be stifling. I work around it by making little marshmallow toothpick people and putting them in a diorama.

I like the diorama method because all I have to do is make far things lighter and close things darker. That's a lot of depth for very little effort and I'm on a budget.

If this helps y'all I'd love to hear about it 🍀

#ask rat fingies #process

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sunflowersandsapphires · 4 days

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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

#frank castle #my writing #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x you #frank castle x female reader #frank castle imagine #fc #gray skies #the punisher netflix #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal

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ab--n · 5 months

Text

Chapter 1: Shifting and Moping for Lost Hope part 1

After having less than the recommended number of hours of sleep, I went to tell DK my conversation with Chocomonio. Him obviously being concerned.

“So what you’re saying is that this ‘Chocomonio’ person told you that two rooms have vents that connect to each other. I supposed that makes sense. Dero and Celeernyx did mention a way of transportation…”

“Okay I’m getting tired DK, Who are these people?”

“Verin, calm down. They're also Participants.”

“Ugh, Yeah sorry. I just feel like absolute trash.”

So one day until the poison kicks in and kills everybody but us four…. Wait.. didn’t Monodoo say that two rooms will be unaffected?

“DK… are you aware of how many rooms there are?”

“At least four.”

“Two rooms will be spared of poison.”

“And we were put in groups of four… 16 in total”

As silence falls between me and DK. we’ve come to a horrible realization.

What if Monodoo makes us continue killing each other?

“HEY!!! Archie found something. Looks like a key! Come here, Dolly and Archie will be waiting!!” Dolly yelled, thank god she was here. Morale would have dropped much quicker if she wasn't.

“We’re coming!!... Come on DK”

“... I’ll be following.”

Without DK I ran to where Archie and Dolly were. As I looked over them I saw a red key. It looks off though, Like it was taken straight out of a children's book.

“I found it near the monitor, It appeared overnight.”

“Dolly can see that. It wasn't here yesterday.”

Maybe Monodoo put it there? But how can he get in here? I have too many questions and no answers.

“Let's use the key already! Dolly wants out of here!”

“Dolly, please wait! For all we know it could be a trap!” Archie pleaded.

“Well we don't know if we dont try!!”

“Fine… let's go to the door first.”

Archie,Dolly and Me went to the door locking us here. It really doesn't make sense, I mean a key looking like it was stolen from a cartoon can open an attack proof metal door?-

*CREAK*

“….What?! How did it open?” I yelled.

“Look, Verin I don’t know either! The key looked really fake so I thought it was a trap!” Archie tried to explain

“Yay, The door opened! Wait for Dolly, Dolly will get Sir Dragon Knight!”

.....

So… we are out?

.....

“DOTTY, I SWEAR TO NOVA, OR VOID OR WHOEVER, JUST STOP BOTHERING BLOSSOM DEE!!”

I turned my head as I saw 12? Maybe 10 more people come out of metal doors like ours, they must be the other participants.

“Okay! Dolly is back with DK! Hmm? Who are they?”

Suddenly DK pops out behind her.

“Those are the other participants Dolly, now if you will excuse me, I need to talk to somebody.”

"DK... Are you ok?" I questioned

"Yes, Now please leave me alone..."

I don’t know for sure… but DK is acting weird, I should leave him alone for now though. Maybe one of those guys that he mentioned wanted to talk?

Can I talk to Chocomoinio? I can see what it looks like now.

“Dolly, Archie. I also got places to be- Dolly, where’s Archie?”

“Archie went to Fylass, Dolly also wants to talk to someone soooo… Buh bye Verin!!”

And Dolly ran off, I wonder who does she want to talk to. But now’s not the time, I got to find Chocomonio!

As I traversed through the small crowd, then I heard a shout..

“Yo Veri! Where are you?” A familiar voice

“Choco? Is that you?”

“Yep, and I’m right behind ya!”

Excited, I turned around quickly to see… a Yellow cat-like lady in a royal looking kimono, Not really what I expected…

“HI!!!!!!..Hmm? Oh ya fell for my facade? Wait let me turn back.”

Suddenly a blackish goo covered the lady and transformed into a small puffball with pink hair and lots of eyes…that are also pink.

“Here I am in all my glory! Sooo.. how’s it been going?”

“Not the best. I’m also confused… I mean did everyone get those weird keys?”

“Yeah, Techno found ours when she was on night watch. I have no idea where she is. I think she also switched ‘bodies’ with Lyx”

Man, there are so many names to keep track of. And why did Choco do air quotes when referring to those two guys switching bodies?

“Hey! while the more mature guys find out whatever is happening, wanna explore and talk to the others?”

“What about you Choco?”

“I’ma annoy Blossom with Dotty. Those two seem to hate each other, Weeeellll maybe only Blossom hates Dotty. Welp, I’ll be taking my leave now. See you later Verin.”

Okay, I’m a bit far behind the social game. I should introduce myself to the rest of the group-

“Hey! Rotten orange peel!” A girl a bit shorter than me ran up to me out of breath. She looks like Knuckle Joe. I wonder what he's doing right now.

“Have you seen a blind purple bat-like girl with a broken leg?” She seems desperate…

“Jill, please don't refer to the girl as ‘Rotten orange peel’!”

“I Don’t Give A Shit, Vibrato! I’m trying to find Bliees!”

I.. should leave these two to argue, I’ll go find others to introduce myself to.

______________________________________________________________

Oof, sorry if this seems rushed. its been a stressful two months. part two will be coming soon I hope.

@monsterhatdoodles

@moon-mage

@loaflovesdoodling

@george228732

@ceoofmetagala

@cauliarty

@smaaenart

@ilikesillythingswooo

I think thats everyone, if I didnt tag you and your character is in this part then please dm me!

#kirby danganronpa #danganronpa: friends and foes with stars above #kirby au #n writes shit #kirby ocs that dont belong to me

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cherxyx · 6 months

Text

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

1. Curiosity Kills The Cat

Warnings: Murder, gun, grabbing, mentions of seasonal depression, a lot of inner self dialogue, takes places in November near December, Screaming

It has been snowing all this week. Making it difficult for you to get home during classes—"Y/N" You redirect your attention to your classmate, Jack, "Sorry, I was distracted…um, what do you need?" "You ok? You've been 'distracted' for the previous two weeks," he said, using quotation marks around distracted. Subsequently to highlight his suspicion.

"To be honest, I haven't been feeling well. Seasonal depression is kicking my ass right now," you murmured, returning your gaze to the window to avoid seeing Jack's expression. All you could do was be embarrassed. Why is it so hard to open up? "I'm not trying to vent to you," you murmured as you watched snowflakes slowly melt on the glass. "It's absolutely fine, Y/N. You are welcome to vent to me; my mother suffers from seasonal depression."

All the more reasons to avoid venting to him, you thought.

Oh no, mama. I absolutely forgot to call her back last night, or was it Tuesday? No, it had to be last night. "Can you tell me what day it is?" you asked. "Friday, why". I haven't called her in almost three days. She's going to murder me. "Y/N!" exclaimed Jack. You quickly turned around to face him. "Stop doing that," he said, "doing what?"

"That," he explained, you were still confused. "You always appear to be in your head, as if your mind is a working machine. You may not convey it verbally, but your facial expressions do. Just talk," he quickly said. "Sorry force of habit," more like I was never able to talk about my feelings. Always being ignored or talked over, but he wouldn't get that.

No. Jack is one of the most popular students at our school. He's attractive, but his family ruin his reputation. "I'm sorry, next time I'll talk, but it's time to leave," you said, just to get him away so you could be alone. "I have a long walk and it's snowing, which means it's freezing," Jack grabbed you as you rose from your seat after you gathered your belongings.

“You have been acting like this since you got here. Are you sure it is seasonal depression” he said. “I’m sure,” you said. Cautiously. After an awkward pause, you finally said “bye Jack”. He watched you walk to the side door and leave.

When you finally made it outside. You made sure to wrap up warmly before walking again. As you walked, you noticed the lights hung in the trees; the stores are all closed now, but they do look nice when they're turned on. The Christmas lights turned on with the cute Christmas trees in the window. You made an effort to walk slowly, even if you were cold. I'm already ashamed about not having a car, so let's not add to that by busting my ass. You thought to yourself as you tried to move away from the slick areas.

You were taking a break when you heard laughter and noticed a group of people walking together. It made you miss your friends, at least one of them. She was back in your town with her husband and two children.

Perhaps that's why you're like this, you reason. You're out of your element, haven't made any friends, haven't gone out, live alone, and are now the "new girl" in school.

"I'm so out of my element," you thought to yourself out loud as you approached the shopping center.

It's not like the Holiday season will always be unpleasant; it could just be an undesirable cause of your seasonal depression. Hopefully. "Everything takes getting used to," you tell yourself again. When you go past the usual water fountain in the park, you mentally note that you're getting close to your apartment.

You heard a loud scream as you walked by the park. You came to a halt and took a glance around your surroundings. Nobody. You shake your head and resume your walk but at a faster speed.

Your rapid pace got you to your apartment faster than usual. You step in with a deep sigh. During the winter, you remember to say hello to the homeless man who lives next to the desk. What a nice guy, you think as you make your way up to the third level. All of the elevators were "broken." You giggle knowing they'll never fix them.

When you arrived at your apartment, you took out your keys and entered. You were greeted by a hallway littered with shoes and jackets on the floor. A quick glance to your right revealed a kitchen full of dishes and leftover food from dinner. You sighed, knowing that you weren't able to get it cleaned at the moment. Finals for your nursing class are approaching, and you have yet to complete a single day's work. Take off your shoes and kick them to the nearest clean location. "I'll pick it up later," you said.

As you make your way to the living room, you are surprised at how tidy it looks. It's only clean because you only had enough energy to stay in bed. Even though your room isn't that messy which is surprising. You were only cleaning up in your room and bathroom since you were afraid of attracting pests.

You went to your room and changed into more comfy clothes. You wanted to take a shower, but you needed to clean the kitchen and hallway first. No point in leaning clean if you just going to sweat and get dirty. Hopefully, it will help you to clear your mind. You put music on your TV in the living room. The first song on your relaxing playlist was Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex. Then you got to it. Start by opening the windows and lighting a Christmas candle. The hallway would come first, followed by the trash.

After 2 hours of rush cleaning, you were finally finished and ready to sleep. Blowing out your vanilla-scented candle and then closing the windows. You were at the last window when you noticed someone running at the back of your apartment complex. You could tell they were bloody and clearly in distress. You were on the verge of calling for help when you immediately paused. What if it's a trap? you questioned.

You were going to close the window since you weren't sure what to do when you noticed a group. Close it. What's happening though. Curiosity got the better of you. The person attempted to turn around, but more people emerged from the shadows to stop him. Should you contact help? You questioned. A million questions were racing through your mind. You've never been in this situation before. A man approached the person who was now trapped and muttered something that you couldn't hear.

It didn't matter what he had said because you were witnessing the same guy pull out a gun on the person. Then, BOOM. A loud bang rang out. Because of the noise, you had screamed. Loud noises make you anxious. Dogs started barking and you noticed that some neighbors had turned on their lights. They'll call for help. You were still frozen in shock from the incident that you didn't realize to close the window or duck out of sight at least. As if on cue with your music, the entire group stared up at your open window. Your body finally sprung into action and you quickly closed your window.

Curiosity kills the cat.

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sneef-to-a-snorf-fight · 6 months

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oki so people liked that last poem a lot so im gonna post another one. so this one was written to be song lyrics but i haven't gotten around to actually turning it into a song yet. also its another love poem. my poems tend to be either love poems or like. venting. yeag. also its kinky ok bye

#the strangler vine and the apple tree #yesiknowitsnotbotanicallyaccuratedontcomeforme

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julien5-malfunction · 3 months

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24012024

Kinda venting since Reddit is down ???

CW[ Trans stuff and kinda se*ual harrasment, I suppose]

I wanted to post this in the FTM subreddit but idk why whole Reddit seems to be down atm???

So I get like 30+ incels adding me on snapchat for the past week or two, and most of them just whine for pics or nudes. This one specific guy actually talked to me for a bit so I didn't dispose him right away. So I crack jokes at him for about three days and I think I told him that, imo, he was boring bc he just talked about how much he wanted to showe his dick into every possible hole of mine. And I tolerated this and proceeded to crack random shit at him, now he is like

'I'm boring so no boobs right?'

I awnsered 'I don't send those kind of pictures to anybody'.

-'bye then.

-'lol' then I deleted him.

Like why and when did snapchat turn into this pussy hunting game, where I'm like the unwanted prey, bc I'm not willing to send even regual pictures of my face to pussy hungry men like that. What the fuck, seriously.

The just the amount of convos that go like; they ask me, age? location? pic? And I awnser those. The convo ends when I say I'm a fucking tranny or that I don't do pics, is just way too high to find this incel carousel entertaining anymore.

Neveg mind the few times people send pics of dicks without asking if I give a shit about that OR EVEN ASKING MY AGE FIRST. Like, I could have been under age!!! wtf!!!

And this ONE discusting shit, sent me videos of his junk and proceeded to VIDEO CALL ME MULTIPLE TIMES IN A ROW, I told him not to do that, and when asked what his problem was, he just replied 'sex' to everything. Reported him. Not cool.

At least some just go 'ok' and ghost you after telling them they ain't getting any fun out of you or they ask if you wanna see their junk, before they just shove it into your face. Like thanks for being even that much considerate.

But for real, I feel targetted on snapchat.

Another completely different, but kind of related source of anxiety for me now, is that the another care company wants me to take part in their group things or hang out on their little HQ, and I'm not comfortable around cis-boys. I'm more comfortable being in a group with queer ppl or girls, since none of those have treated me like a sex object or tried to do things to me.

Girls usually don't give a shit about me or I think some might talk shit about me bc I'm not pretty or skinny and I dress a little weird. Queer peple are usually neutal, some even talk to me a little.

But boys... see me as a girl or an object, no matter what. This might be cause I was always put in the same box with the girls in school and most of all people I had in my life, have been women. I guess I just see them as a scary, diffirent breed now, bc the few male people I did know, treated me that way.

I just feel like I'll never fit anywhere. I hate my body. I hate that I'm so tired all the time. I hate that I cannot change things that cause me pain and the people who could do that, won't. I wish I was in a diffirent body, some one else, like a bimbo girl bc that's ehat people want, right. Or just plain dead.

I just want to be alone but sometimes it just really sucks but when I'm given a chance to be around people I remember why I can't stand being around others.

#vent #transgender #self h@te #tw: harrasment #i want to be alone #i wanna die #I can't even fucing talk to people anymore bc the moment I spill about the nasty depressive shit I trigger someone #I'm a broken record #i can't get over this

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munchkindango · 1 year

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mothwing: disheartenedly venting about the unforgiving struggle she has to endure as a half clan cat, the harsh critique and subjection to accusations of disloyalty at every seemingly "insufficient" performance of duties, constant perception of being an outsider despite all her hard work— turning away dejectedly, so upset there's no pep in her step

leafpaw: ok! bye!!

#GOD this writing is so funny #reread #warrior cats #leafpaw #mothwing #nanaonan :3

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milkywaygg · 6 months

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Confidential Affairs Chapter 8

AN: Another chapter for @eripops. This chapter is a good bit shorter than the rest for a few reasons. I'm been motivationally dragged lately bc of a lot of irl issues I'm dealing with atm, and plus I wanted this chapter to be the last sweet one before the real issues start kicking in. Hopefully, I'll get to writing the real important chapters soon. Until then, enjoy!

“Rosalie, I’m sorry but mummy’s got to go to work right now. You like to eat, don’t you?”, Euphemia said, trying hard not to laugh as she dragged her toddler daughter towards the front door as she cried, clinging onto her mother’s leg while Jules laughed, putting down the recording. Rosalie’s crying got slightly louder as Jules knelt down gently and picked her up, bouncing her softly and rubbing her back.

“Honey bunny, I’m sorry but mommy has to go for now, but she’ll be back. She always comes back.”, Jules cooed as he tried to comfort the crying toddler, “Have a good day darling.”

“Thank you sweetheart. I’ll see you both later. Bye bye!”, she waved at her daughter as she walked out, Rosalie reaching her arms out, hoping for her mother’s return. Seeing this, Jules smiled as he cradled the little one.

“She’ll be back soon, baby. I promise. Now, why don’t you come help daddy with his garden?”

Jules woke up to a dark room, rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his green hair as he sat up. He winced as he tried to get up, both his head and back killing him at the same time and wishing that he had changed to pajamas instead of falling asleep in his usual green polo and black, belted pants outfit. Seeing blurry, neon-red figured next to his nightstand, Jules threw his glasses back on to see that the clock next to him read 7:23 PM. Well…golly…I didn’t mean to sleep THAT long.

All of the sudden, Jules jumped as he heard a loud beeping sound and a smoky scent coming from the kitchen. He got on his feet and scrambled out of the room and down the stairs as fast as he could, nearly thumbling down as he flew down the stairs. In the kitchen, smoke seemed to cloud Euphemia as she extinguished the stove with the tip of her wand, the food inside the pan turning to ash before the fire had been put out; Euphemia looking frazzled.

“Euphemia! Are you ok? Here”, Jules brought her over to the couch, sitting her down before waving out the rest of the smoke, opening a window and turning on the air vents to shrink the smell. Once he did, he got a water bottle out from the fridge, passing it to Euphemia as he took a seat beside her. “What in the world happened?”

“Tried to make us dinner. Obviously, I can’t be trusted near a stove.”, Euphemia chuckled, half humorously, half embarrassed, “Guess it’s TV dinners for us.”

“Aw, but I was hoping for some take out.”, Jules whined slightly, “I just got this craving for crab legs and fries.”

“Sorry sweetie, but the nearest seafood place is 30 minutes away, and we can’t teleport right now for…the obvious reasons.”

“I mean…couldn’t we just order delivery.”

“We could yes but…I dunno…those delivery apps are crazy expensive.”, Euphemia droned off, seeing Jules’ face turn disappointed, much like it did this morning. Not wanting to piss him off a second time, Euphemia signed. Maybe just this once it’ll be fine? They might have some deals going on “You know what, I think we can just this once.”

“Yay! Thank you honey!! ”Jules cheered as he hugged her, like a child that just got taken to their favorite play place as a surprise. Relieved at Jules’ more cheerful mood, Euphemia smiled as she pecked him on the cheek.

“How was the appointment?”

“It went good! I wish you would have gone with me”

“You didn’t want me, remember?”, Euphemia asked, frowning slightly, “I’ve uh…I’ve had some time to think things through and..:”

“I’m sorry.”, Jules interrupting, catching Euphemia off guard for a second.

“Pardon?”

“I’m sorry, darling.”, he continued, slouching a bit as his belly poked up, “I’ve just…I’ve been a pain in the behind since this whole thing started. I didn’t mean to get so moody with you this morning. I-I just couldn’t help but wonder if you still wanted to marry me or have this child with me. I talked it over with the doctor, very nice lady by the way, and she told me that maybe you just feel like it’s all on you….I’m really sorry honey. I didn’t realize how much pressure I’ve been putting on you.”

“Oh Jules”, Euphemia said softly, pulling him towards her, kissing him passionately on the lips, “You have nothing to say sorry for. It’s MY job to provide for you, especially given how fragile you are right now.”

“I mean…I know…it’s just that we’re a family. We’re supposed to be a team. You shouldn’t have to be doing everything yourself. I hate seeing you under all this stress.”, Jules vented, “It’s kind of crazy. You do so much for the people around you but you never take the time to take care of yourself. When’s the last time someone helped you out?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of things myself, thank you.”

“I’m aware of that. Just…wouldn’t it be nice for just one that you put yourself before someone else? Not your parents…not me…just you doing something nice for you…or letting me help out around here. I really, truly don’t mind.”

“Yea, but what kind of wife would I be if my pregnant husband is doing all the work around here?”

“The kind that deserves a break every now and then.”, Jules shrugged, “Look, I know you’re capable and strong, but it really is ok to ask for help. Heck, you see me doing it.”

“Yeah well…I just don’t want you to worry yourself right now. Times are tough and it seems like you’re going through a hard enough time with the baby.”

“Well that doesn’t mean you have to do everything alone.”, Jules said, snuggling his head on her shoulder as he took out his phone, “Here, tell you what. I’m paying for dinner tonight.”

“No Jules let me..you shouldn’t have it-”

“Too late! I got you your favorite chinese food and there’s nothing you can do to stop me mwahah.”, Jules did a small evil laugh as he pecked his fiance's cheek, “Just the once, let me treat you. You might not think you do but you deserve the world.”

#fairly oddparents #cosma family #au #fanfic

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