Discoholic πͺ©
oozey mess
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
πͺΌ
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
shark vs the universe
RMH
d e v o n
@theartofmadeline
Andulka
η₯ζ₯ / Permanent Vacation
β£ Chile in a Photography β£
taylor price
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Origami Around
occasionally subtle
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
seen from United States
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seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
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@crossh4irs
@CROSSH4IRS independent thread-based writing blog for marvel's punisher, heavily headcanon-based padded with influences from the punisher season one, garth ennis and jason aaron's punisher max runs, punisher: the tyger, born, and the things they carried by tim o'brien.
CARRD | SIDEBLOG | PLAYLIST
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blood that is not his own seeps from between his fingers to his wrist and he can taste it in his mouth, can smell it in the air. dressed in asylum whites, he glances up at @morefearless with both insistence and curiosity.
after all, she'd walked in on the animal she'd personally unleashed, with its victim prone on the ground between them, throat slashed so deep that the meat and sinew and tendons are nearly visible. most don't quite have the stomach for it.
not that it fazes him. because it doesn't.
"--i uh, i think you ought to look away, doctor."
frank had very much intentionally made himself scarce at wally's internment and skipped the reception entirely. instead, he'd ventured back to his apartment because work is an anchoring thing, and he's not quite bereft about the old man as he is rattled. it'll be gone tomorrow, because he can take anything. he can. despite that, he's grateful he hadn't seen diana.
when he arrives home, he barely has time to shower and get dressed before his doorbell is ringing. when he hits the intercom, he feels something electric in him when he hears diana's voice.
the moment he opens the door, @am4zon is embracing him. his arms wrap around her in return once his door swings shut, and he registers she's still dressed in mourning black.
"you alright?" he asks against her hair, lips ghosting by her neck from where his face is tucked into it as a big hand rubs over her back consolingly, instinctively. while frank isn't the sentimental sort, he's been to enough funerals and has lost enough for this shit to be muscle memory.
Save me from my old ways.
frank and harley commit terrorism by existing every single day, worst soulmates ever @morefearless
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@crossh4irs sent "i see you've made yourself at home."
when he left, there weren't papers spread across the table. madani's laptop wasn't out and she hadn't made herself a pot of coffee. she'd looked presentable when he'd left, and now her dark curls were barely restrained by the claw clip at the top of her head. to say she'd made herself at home was an understatement, but that was just how she was when she got so into her work she barely noticed the hours passing by.
her concentration had been broken by the sound of the lock clicking, but she hadn't fully left that state where the gears in her head were turning faster than she could take notes on the yellow legal pad until he actually spoke. "i suppose i have," she said, observing her mess and then seeing the bag of takeout in his hand. "i can clear some space."
given the sleek state of her apartmentβboth that of her parents and her ownβhe'd never have anticipated how seamlessly she'd fit in his space. fastidious and tidy as he is, it cannot compensate for the decrepit state of the studio apartment that he calls his current headquarters with the firearms that line its barren walls, its half-scorched-out stove, its peeling paint with asbestos underneath.
"no," frank says, a huff escaping that teeters somewhere near amusement. "noβfloor's all yours."
he sets the spare bodega coffee on the table, away from her work, along with a foil-wrapped sandwich that she hadn't asked for.
"hope you ain't vegan."
β₯ Β Β Β NON - SEXUAL Β ACTS Β OF Β DOMINANCE .Β
feel free to edit or elaborate as you please . Β ( addΒ Β β reverseΒ β Β to your message if youβd like to see how my muse would perform the action ) . otherwise , send in one of these for my museβs reaction to Β β¦
[ lit ]Β your muse lighting a cigarette , spliff , etc. for mine .Β
[ order ] Β your muse ordering for mine at a restaurant or bar .
[ guide ] Β your muse putting a hand on mineβs back to lead them .
[ pay ]Β your muse paying for mine at a store , bar , restaurant , etc . ( you can specify where or for what . )
[ open ]Β your muse opening a door for mine .
[ dry ] Β your muse drying mine off with a towel after a shower , bath , swimming , etc .Β
[ instruct ]Β your muse giving mine instructions / telling them what to do .Β
[ groom ]Β your muse adjusting mineβs appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc .Β
[ direct ]Β your muse taking mine by the chin and telling them to look yours in the eye .
[ disagree ]Β your muse sternly telling mine Β β no βΒ .
[ rest ]Β your muse resting their arm over mineβs shoulder / s .
[ clean ] Β your muse cleaning a smudge of something off mineβs cheek , forehead , etc . Β feel free to specify what and how .Β
[ answer ]Β your muse answering a question meant for mine .Β
[ coat ] Β your muse holds mineβs coat out for them while they put it on .
[ pilot ]Β your muse taking mine by the arm , hand , shoulder , etc . to lead them .Β
[ stare ] Β your muse staring mine down .Β
[ placement ]Β your muse telling mine to sit down .
[ teach ] Β your muse taking control of mineβs hand , arm , hips , etc . to make sure they do something correctly . Β
[ patience ]Β your muse telling mine to be patient .
[ tears ] Β your muse wiping away mineβs tears .
[ swat ] Β your muse swatting mineβs hand away from something theyβre not supposed to touch .Β Β
[ jewelry Β ] Β your muse clasping a piece of jewelry for mine , such as a necklace , or earrings .Β
[ enough ]Β your muse commanding mine to stop talking .Β
[ retrieve ] Β your muse requesting or ordering mine to retrieve them something .
[ invite ]Β your muse inviting mine to sit on their lap .
[ lean ] Β your muse inviting mine to lean into their side while theyβre sitting or laying together .Β
[ calm ] Β your muse telling mine to Β β just breatheΒ β .
[ scold ] Β your muse scolding mine for something .
[ comfort ] Β your muse pulling mine into a reassuring hug .
[ approval ] Β your muse complimenting mine on a choice theyβve made .
[ beckon ]Β your muse beckoning mine to them without speaking .Β
[ laces ]Β your muse lacing , tying , or zipping something for mine , such as shoes , a dress , or a jacket , etc .
[ stay ]Β your muse telling mine to stay in the car .Β
[ defend ] Β your muse defending mineβs reputation , dignity , or safety for them .Β
[ feed ] Β your muse feeding mine something , feel free to specify what .
[ volume ] Β your muse demanding mine speak louder .
[ read ] Β your muse reading something to mine .
[ refill ] Β your muse refilling mineβs glass for them .Β
[ possessive ] Β your muse resting their hand on mineβs leg or the small of their back while theyβre sitting beside each other .Β
The Punisher Season 1 Epiosode 08 - Cold Steel
as a fellow frequent feature of grocery store tabloids and true crime podcasts, frank had been skeptical whether or not the whispers of the clown queen of crime's presence at the club were true or just her reputation preceding her. the moment he spots her platinum blonde head in the yellow light of the place, however, is when he knows the truth. her bejeweled dress leaves little to the imagination, is so unlike the modest blouses and lab coats and pencil skirts that he associates with her, the way her oversized glasses served as an intentional barrier between locking their gaze.
he's never been great at incognito work like this, between the constant swell of his nose, the black bruises that splotch his eyes, and the breadth of his shoulders, he's easy to spot. even in gotham. it is something to marvel, though, that the woman who'd ( allegedly ) helped kill the bat's second-in-command is here. not even an open fucking secret. it's almost flippant, how blatant her display is. arrogance oozes almost tangibly off her.
he smells her perfume before he sees her, gaze intentionally avoiding hers for a moment under his yankees cap. on instinct, frank tenses, fingers reaching for the firearm he keeps tucked away in his inner pants pocket on instinct.
that's when he looks up at her, brow quirked, hands very intentionally laid at his sides.
articulate and eloquent as ever, frank grunts, " -- doctor."
it's not enough for her to claim her spot on his lap. harley shakes her hips in subtle motions, back and forth, not to dance to the rhythm of the music but to replicate a lewd act she's craving to do with him. because of course she remembers you, handsome! frank castle, killing machine and former patient of one dr. harleen quinzel. she smiles wide at his recognition. β so you do remember me. β it's a peculiar thing to say. she's shed so much of the skin that defined her life when she was a psychiatrist, from when she knew frank. but it's also a fitting thing to say, because he's seen her at her most intimate, too.
joker's eyes are everywhere in this club, no doubt they'll find this scene eventually if they haven't already. yet, harley is fearless in her disrespect towards the clown. she places both her hands on either side of frank's face and takes a good look at him. it's just bruises and scars and blood, and everything she is so desperate to taste. he's as intoxicating as she remembers.
β you didn't answer my question. β she lowers her voice just so, baby blue eyes staring into frank's. there is no giggling, she's all serious business now. she takes her tongue and slides it across his jawline, licking up his natural scent, blood, and sweat.
β do you wanna play with me, frank? β
" -- ma'am," frank says, grateful to get it out before harley begins to gyrate in his lap. he stays remarkably still--as a fucking statue, really--and keeps his gaze on her face, his hands to himself, as she moves. he could shove her off him, get out of here, and that's what he thinks to do. call the whole thing off considering his cover is more than fucking blown and, if anything, this is calling more attention to him and potentially ruining it--
but he finds himself looking up at her, under the brim of his hat, with his dark gaze that he finds reflected in her own. her fingers are soft on his face, and he exhales against the feel of her warm mouth on his jaw.
big hands settle on her hips as he pulls back, away, to lock eyes with her. but not before his gaze flicks to her lips, just for a moment, before looking back up at her.
" -- dangerous game you're playing."
the higher ups of arkham asylum will say dr. harleen quinzel is getting nowhere with her most notorious patient, murderer frank castle. they will say they are wasting good money on her little experiment for no results. harleen doesn't give a single fuck what they think, though. because she will say she has castle right where she wants him. in the silence, in the dark. she allows him to say nothing. she flashes her smile, which has a warmth she had to practice for. it didn't come natural. she could be content to let another session go by without saying a word, except she doesn't.
suddenly, she speaks.
β you think they'd let you take me? β her eyebrow rises, and she feigns innocence, all wide eyed and a trembling lip. it's a fascinating choice of words: not will you kill me, but will you take me. it's deliberate as it is fascinating. and soon, that feigned innocence is drowned out by a huge smile, and a fire in her eyes. β you think if we took these pretty little chains off you, and you lunged at me, the guards would just let it happen? β
she wonders, honestly not for the first time, if frank would kill her too, if he knew of the rot in her heart and how it was spreading, spreading, spreading.
their weekly sessions have bled into each other, uneventful as they've been. garden-variety questions met with garden-variety answers to fill the hour block he's kept in here. her gaze has always been sharp, piercing, but frank's never paid any mind to it. this is a transitory place, fleeting, and he's nothing if not patient. the only thing he's felt toward the doctor is a vague sense of pity for being stuck with him in the belly of the beast here at arkham because no one else would take him.
now, something between them has been activated. a brow raises.
"i don't know," frank says, clears his throat, "the guards ain't on my payroll. but they're sick fucks eager for a show. you know that."
he leans forward, chains rattling against the table.
"what, uh--what do you think i'll do?"
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Punisher #60 (2008)
Garth Ennis
Goran Parlov
Lee Loughridge
Cory Petit
i just think a lot about how dedicated and loyal frank is not quite to his country as much as his fellow service members and (initially) law enforcement and almost all authority like an obedient dog because he made oaths as a 18-year-old who enlisted in the marine corps pre-9/11 under a facade of "patriotism" that was just an excuse to commit violence, but he viewed it as an ~honorable outlet
frank doesn't want to reckon with the atrocities he's committed because it'd mean that his sense and code of honor had been broken, and it'd also mean that the oaths he'd made had meant nothing and were founded on a lie. war isn't black and white, and is entwined with american imperialism and the military industrial complex and abuse of power. frank's loyalty to people like billy russo comes (despite what is clearly his better judgment) comes from an expectation of reciprocity of the honor he exhibits, and as he's been betrayed by former service members and the authority/establishment he'd worked his entire life to uphold, his sense of honor erodes.
while i do maintain frank has always been a bad person (and he knows it too, that losing his family had only been a catalyst for what was always lying under his skin), he isn't stagnant as a character and my exploration of him is about that slow corruption that he spreads onto everyone he comes in contact with.
simultaneously my characterization is also about him transitioning from bootlicking to a complete distrust and disdain for all authority and the establishment as a whole so. yeah
this club is joker's territory, and the tattoos on harley's skin are like brands, attaching her to the clown of crime. if people weren't scared so shitless of meeting the barrel of his gun, all eyes would be on the prettier attraction: harley. her curves are poured into a gold dress that fits her like skin, and like a snake, she's eager to shed it. remarkable, isn't it, how she can be so seen yet to invisible at the same time?
she spots the guy in the cap nearly the moment he slips into the club, but it's funnier letting him think he has the advantage. she plays pretend until she can slink away from anyone's gaze and introduce herself to the mystery man.
β you're cute, β is how she announces herself to @crossh4irs. her smile is all pearly teeth and her eyes are better described as mischievous than blue. her bejeweled fingers dance along his broad shoulder before she takes a seat in his lap. with her, it's always like a queen declaring her throne. β wanna play with me? β
as a fellow frequent feature of grocery store tabloids and true crime podcasts, frank had been skeptical whether or not the whispers of the clown queen of crime's presence at the club were true or just her reputation preceding her. the moment he spots her platinum blonde head in the yellow light of the place, however, is when he knows the truth. her bejeweled dress leaves little to the imagination, is so unlike the modest blouses and lab coats and pencil skirts that he associates with her, the way her oversized glasses served as an intentional barrier between locking their gaze.
he's never been great at incognito work like this, between the constant swell of his nose, the black bruises that splotch his eyes, and the breadth of his shoulders, he's easy to spot. even in gotham. it is something to marvel, though, that the woman who'd ( allegedly ) helped kill the bat's second-in-command is here. not even an open fucking secret. it's almost flippant, how blatant her display is. arrogance oozes almost tangibly off her.
he smells her perfume before he sees her, gaze intentionally avoiding hers for a moment under his yankees cap. on instinct, frank tenses, fingers reaching for the firearm he keeps tucked away in his inner pants pocket on instinct.
that's when he looks up at her, brow quirked, hands very intentionally laid at his sides.
articulate and eloquent as ever, frank grunts, " -- doctor."
the shackles that bind frankβs ankles scrape against the concrete floor while the ones on his wrists drag on the steel table that separates himself and @morefearless. itβs comical, really, but justifiedβdespite the fact that frank has barely spoken a word since his sentencing and has been downright docile if not borderline catatonic, the staff know better. heβs less a bear in hibernation and more so just a predator lying in wait, and with each passing day, unbeknownst to them, he inches closer and closer to his target.
it isnβt his first or second or third session with the pretty blonde doctor, and this isnβt the first time frank thinks of the fact that sheβs been practically thrown to the wolves in this place, nonplussed as she seems about it all.
he clears his throat. when she greets him, he responds with a curt, βmaβam,β as he peers at his blurred reflection in the metal of the table.
the millennium series by stieg larsson death, violence, suicide mention.Β Β
βiβm a survivor. i do what i have to do to survive.β Β
βyouβll have my support if you need it.β
βiβm just a freak, thatβs all.β
βyou donβt believe in god?β
βthanks for being my friend.β
βsorry. i wasnβt listening.β
βyouβre going to have some serious bruises for a while.β
βthat was brave but awfully stupid.β
βyou look like you just woke up.β
βeveryone has secrets. itβs just a matter of finding out what they are.β
βup until then, i had thought about killing myself.βΒ
βthis isβ¦ not healthy.β
βwhat would you do if it was me?β
βi think youβre awake.β Β
βwould you like company?β
βiβm not a child any more.β
βif your questions piss me off, i wonβt answer.βΒ
βeveryone has to have something to believe in.β
βfuck you too. need help?β
βiβm going to kill you!β
βa manβs gotta do what a manβs gotta do, and all that crap.β
βyou have to concentrate on getting well.β
βusually itβs other people who donβt give a shit about me.β
βyou look like a car crash.β Β
βwhy donβt you want to talk to the police?β
βi can keep a secret, if thatβs what youβre wondering.β
βyouβve been hurt and had surgery.β
βi need somebody to tell me if iβm doing anything stupid.β
βtheyβll twist what i say and use it against me.β
βwhat kind of weapon is it?β
βwhat iβm thinking of asking you is unethical and it might be illegal. but morally, itβs the right thing to do.β
βno bones broken?β Β
βi wasnβt going to let that motherfucker kill you.β
βgo home and get some sleep.β
βif youβre nice to me, iβll be nice to you.β
βthat was a serious mistake.β
βdonβt ever do anything for nothing.β Β Β
βthatβs not a detail, itβs a whole novel.β
βyouβve had an operation and youβre in the intensive care unit.β
βam i being arrested?β
βyou donβt give a shit about other people.β
βi thought youβd died.β
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DIALOGUE PROMPTS FROM THINGS HAVE GOTTEN WORSE SINCE WE LAST SPOKE BY ERIC LAROCCAΒ β feel free to change pronouns / tenses as needed!Β cw for mentions of graphic violence and cannibalism.
i really canβt thank you enough.
you really did change my life.
i feel more myself when i talk to you.
what have you done today to deserve your eyes?
we donβt covet our hands until we lose a finger.
how does the snake feel in her new skin?
weβre all capable of things. sometimes it hurts.
i feel like a new constellation, scabbed in glittering black.
whatever youβre thinking, i probably want it.
people like to eat other people. i spent so many years forgetting i had teeth, too.
you wonβt eat me. no matter how much you enjoy the way i taste.
i never thought i would ever do something as monstrous, as wicked as this.
what else will i do to make you happy?
i donβt think iβm better off without you.
neither of us are monsters.
thatβs what makes people do horrible things - they think whatever theyβre doing isnβt nearly as bad as what someone else will do
i could never stay away from you.
do you ever worry youβll hurt me?
i once dreamt about killing you.
iβm bracing myself for the worst.
change always hurts.
iβll love you no matter what.
iβll always have a part of you inside of me.
fuck your second thoughts. fuck your honesty.
i think i once did love you. i think i once could have loved you. but not like this.
youβll never leave me.
i feel like taking a pair of shears and slicing myself open.
i thought of you last night.
this is what you wanted.
RED DEAD REDEMPTION (2010) DIALOGUE PROMPTS
you always did think i was an idiot.
you never tried to save me before.
i implore you to think about this.
i think you're deliberately enigmatic as a substitute for having an actual personality.
you do so love to talk in riddles.
i've never met a man in a tie i can trust.
nobody made my path but me.
you keep jumping from one side of the fence to the other, you might just get impaled on it.
it seems we've reached an impasse.
i'm many things, most of them bad.
people don't forget. nothing gets forgiven.
do you want me to take out a gun and blow a fucking hole in your head?
you'll be the first to know when i kill you, i promise.
it's wanting that gets so many people in trouble.
my side ain't chosen. my side was given.
some trees flourish, others die. some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves.
i've always loved you.
you left me to die to save your own skin, and you expect me to care about you?
the life you lived, you don't just walk away from that.
moral degeneracy waits for no man.
some men are born rich enough and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. ain't nothing fair. you know that.
you can't change who you are.
you have no idea what you're killing for.
you never could see what i could see.
my whole life, all i ever did was fight.
i can't fight my own nature.
when i'm gone, they'll just find another monster.
