#*frank ask;

@witchoflegends asked: ' come on. make this easy for me '

"If it was easy, we wouldn't be doing this back and forth." Frank muttered and scooted closer to her, he felt her fingers stick and poke him with the needle. He grunted when he felt the cold sensation of alcohol being applied.

There's a comfortable silence between them before Frank talked again. "I found your dad." He didn't look at her, just kept his head looking at the door. "Your dad's an asshole. He started saying shit, I got angry and started yelling. He might have pushed me and I decked him real quick." Frank finally turns to look at her, knowing hearing your old man got knocked the fuck down probably wouldn't be easy news to listen to, regardless of them being an asshole.

"He's fine."

@deservetoknow asked: "Oh my god, are you serious? I think it's broken!"

"Fuck!" Frank felt Karen's hands touch his side, and a flare of blinding pain stabbed him sharply. He started breathing through his mouth, his fists balling tightly at his sides. "Don't do that again." He muttered under his breath, his eyes squeezed shut. "It's either a fracture or one of my ribs is broken. We need to move quickly. I know a woman who can help, but we got to get to her clinic first." He looked at her, through a bloodied, hazy gaze. "You can't come with me. The cops are still lookin' for me. Understand? You need to go, Karen."

@altarbov asked: "Don't you dare pass out on me."

Frank's eyes started losing focus, Matt's words coming in muffled over him. His eyes just zeroing in on one pinpoint of light that seemed to be far off in the distance.

(Frank, Frank. Hey, sleepy head.)

"Maria?" Bloodied lips parted, his voice coming out in a whisper. He doesn't realize he's speaking out loud. He sees his wife, the yellow dress she loved wearing when he came home from deployment. Her gentle hands brushing his hair, touching his forehead.

Frank hasn't seen her in years, but here she is, just looking at him like any other day before that damn park.

(Frank, you need to get up, sweetheart. The kids are downstairs. C'mon, I need you to get up now.)

"Get up?" A haze of confusion comes over Frank, he feels warm and cold from the blood loss. He's so beyond the pain that he's swimming in the inky pools of numbness.

(Yes, get up. They're waiting. You can't lay there. I need you today.)

Frank feels a pat at his forearm, and he starts trying to get up, and it burns, and the fresh wave of pain brings him back to where he actually is.

A wave of disappointment hits him as he stares through bloodied eyes at Matt. There's a moment of silence between them that stretches on before Frank finally speaks.

@hexsreality asked: ❝ hello there, handsome. ❞

Frank's a smart man. You see a pretty and dangerous woman giving you a compliment—you better shut up and accept it.

"This isn't Avengers business, right? Unless, you're trying to sweeten me up before throwing me back to the feds, Miss Maximoff?" Frank's hoping that's a no from her part. Mainly, because there's very limited things he could do to get away from her in the span of her just yanking him into the air with just a click of her fingers. One thing no amount of training could help you with is magic and mutants with powers that could pop you like a bloody balloon.

@witchoflegends ' keep going like this, you might just end up happy. '

Frank turns his head a little to look at her. They're in her apartment, he brought over some maximillian sunflowers he found in some local flower shop—better than the first ones he gave her. The small pot of white flowers still on the windowsill.

It's quiet except some music playing from the radio. His fingers curling over his bottle of beer, it's cold underneath his touch. He's a little surprised being here—in her apartment—nothing happening. There's no blood being spilled in the streets of New York. He just wanted to stop by and see if she's good.

A small sip of his beer, he clears his throat, fixing himself in his chair before answering her. "Ah, yeah— I might be." He looks sorta surprised to say it, looking at her. He's not gonna lie to himself, the urge to rain hell on every scumbag he sees is there, but the slow moments in between? Those moments were he's just working some two-bit job to make some money on the side—they're not just a blur anymore. He's actually enjoying them because he gets to come here in her apartment and just talk, just listen to her.

@mnknt asked: “ Don’t. Don’t act like you know anything、you don’t know what happened. ”pulling away from the mercenary almost like his touch burned、 wild eyes focused intensely. ( go my spectorling )

"Yeah, yeah. You're right. I don't know shit about what happened to you. I can give you some bullshit, ok. Tell you, to shove it down, tell you that it's gonna be ok, but I'm not gonna lie to you. Whatever happened is gonna eat at you until you're nothing but bone, but I can understand. I can lend you an ear, because you know what I went through. It's no fucking secret."

"He didn't kill that fuckin' clown and he's murdered hundreds, Wond. Sometimes you gotta put them down, and he can act self-righteous all he wants, but he's got blood on his hands." Frank grunts something else under his breath. "Dresses like a fuckin' bat, too."