𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑦𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑.

[castle]

deerlyBeloved: pupdaddy classic heartthrob with a tough exterior but a soft gooey center, this man is the ideal husband for you! all he needs for settling down is a warm loving pup, a steaming cup of joe, and a woman who doesn't mind smooching up a monstrous mouth with a talent for chowing down food and providing some unmentionable waist-down services. rough on thugs and gentle on the ladies, he's handy with a hammer, swift with a gun, and charming with a smile (if you can catch it!). a genuine heart who loves too much and will avenge you even beyond the grave, this rough road of a face makes for, not only a perfect soulmate for the lonely ladies, but also an ideal daddy for any kids looking to stamp in a thuggish but heartwarming parental figure into their lives.

( frank castle | 43 | male | wynonnasexual )

Comments

[earps]

[ have we said every variation of shit already?

because here wynonna had been thinking he'd do the smart thing and just ignore the obvious user error involved in this sitch — unless, oh god, he thinks she meant to do it. (she's not even going to touch the possibility that a small part of her, however subconscious, had intended the deerington equivalent of swiping right.) turns out she doesn't get to be that lucky, this and so many other goddamn times in her life, and when her device finally signals she's got a new notification while she's chilling at the farmhouse she pulls it up only to mutter yet another string of foul words.

she probably gets through every version of fuck at least once too and her thumbs are already tapping out a response — again, before she can think too hard and long about it, neither of which has ever been her strong suit. ]

Hardly.

[ only now she's really hard-pressed to come up with an answer that sounds legit and not like she's trying to fish for a lame excuse. ]

Total pity swipe. Not that you seemed like the kind of guy who could use an ego boost or anything.

[ oh, yeah. she caught that part about the waist-down abilities. ]

[castle]

[ he hadn't expected any actual intention on her part, if their initial encounter had been any indication when neither of them had reached for that button before their time had ran out. possibly that's why he responds in the first place, knowing the lack of seriousness there is to it, a game meant for nothing at all. ]

yeah my confidence was feeling real shaky
all that bravado? total sham

you really held me together here

[earps]

[ the good news, maybe, is that she'd been spared the potential for embarrassment on her end; her fingers had half-hovered over that buzzer before ultimately curving away during her literal saved by the bell moment. unfortunately, there's no such chance of that happening here, her own clumsy thumbs catapulting her into awkwardness once again.

but the tone of his reply doesn't strike her as him taking offense, somehow closer to shades of their initial conversation instead, and she blinks at her screen with confused surprise before answering. ]

Go ahead and admit that I made your damn day already.

[castle]

[ he wouldn't consider any of his days here in this town being "made". not when he's being put into one frustrating circumstance after another. the last thing he wants is any attention being brought to himself, much less with credit to the obnoxious profile written up for him (at least it'd remained labeled as "pete castiglione" instead of giving rise to "frank castle").

in the same way, he isn't seeking to make any cozy friendships here either, and he isn't sure where he stands on the consistent encounters he seems to have with this woman, intentional or not. ]

it's beginning to look less and less like it's me digging for that stamp of approval

[earps]

[ ultimately, it's a lot of the same shit she's already got a track record with, just on a different day and in a different place. chances are if she'd shown up here the way that she had with no prior experience engaging the freaky-deaky, she'd be way more thrown, way less prone to these small coping mechanisms of quipping with her fellow dream warriors — because all of this has got to be some kind of prolonged nightmare, she remains convinced of that.

strike that; she'd still be finding a way to crack a joke because she's her, and anything else would be a sign of something really and truly wrong. some people just need to stop taking the situation so damn seriously all the time.

case in point. ]

Well, the hottest ones always have the most damage.

Pete, huh? Here I was banking on being able to keep calling you Harry.

[castle]

tooting your own horn or voicing your expectations of me?

[ what — he needs to get out of this damn town. seriously. ]

you can call me what you want
not picky

[ it's not like it's his name anyway. and it isn't like he's wanting to make this a lasting thing anyway. or really, a thing at all. ]

[earps]

What, you want to have a contest to see who's got the most trauma?

[ because she's not about to touch that other part; she's pretty sure that trap's laid with all kinds of landmines. ]

You say that now, but then I'll wind up picking something you'll hate and then you'll regret ever giving me carte blanche.

[ like monster mouth. or daddy p. she could keep going but it's a fairly mature hour already. ]

Just out of curiosity, how skilled are you at fixing sinks?

[castle]

pretty sure that ain't a bet you want to take

[ not that he's actually looking to exchange sob stories, or even wants to bring up anything regarding his history with her. lucky for him, this profile avoided any of those sensitive areas; last thing he wants to do is have to get pity messages from strangers he couldn't care less about. ]

cute that you think i'm that sensitive

[ he might be, a little. shut up. ]

sinks are pretty basic
why

[earps]

Too bad. The hotness factor would go up exponentially.

[ again: talking about herself or him? who can say?

and she almost brings up his taste in movies just to prove a point, because no guy out there says he’s into casablanca unironically unless he has some semblance of a heart. that or he’s been fucking with her this whole time, which is an equally likely thing. ]

Because mine’s leaking and you’re apparently a “handy” guy.

[castle]

more of a reason to dodge that bullet

[ because it's ridiculous or he'd rather they don't think about — how about they go back to that sink?

if there's anything he expected to hear out of this damn profile, it certainly wasn't any actual requests. better that than what the thing is actually trying to advertise, he guesses. ]

you want me to fix your sink

[ of course she does. because he really can't get rid of her if he wanted to. ]

[earps]

[ home appliances are a much, much safer subject.

look, she's pretty damn good at shifting from awkwardness to less awkwardness (though maybe she's filed some of the info in that profile away for future reference, because there are a few things on there that definitely gave her pause). ]

You're not against basic, are you?

[castle]

[ he'll just keep pretending that most of what's written on there is easily ignored or forgotten. because he sure as hell isn't planning on referencing it or proving any of it right or wrong.

(at the moment.) ]

i can probably handle it

[ does he want to? probably not. but he's not gonna let her drown in her kitchen either. ]

[earps]

Probably means I won't end up having to swim in my own kitchen, right?

[ she might be teasing him a little on those abilities, but how can she be sure he's not overselling himself until she sees it with her own two eyes?

(she's still talking about him fixing her sink. duh.) ]

[castle]

don't be too confident in my skills
might still need to wear a bathing suit

[ don't ... actually wear a bathing suit. ]

[earps]

You know, I keep thinking the one thing this place could use is a pool.

[ not that it'll come to that. hopefully. if he's as good as he says. ]

[castle]

i might prioritize kitchen over pool

[ and no, he isn't going to renovate her place by building in a pool too. ]

just tell me where and when
i'll see what i can do

[earps]

1433 Gatlin Drive. It's one of the slightly shittier houses on the block.

As for the when, turns out not having an actual job means I do a lot of sitting around right now, so just shoot me a text to let me know you're on your way.

[ mostly so she doesn't end up opening the door without any pants on. ]

[castle]

[ he doesn't know the town well enough yet, so it doesn't give him any idea of the actual location (he'd rather he isn't around long enough to learn it that well), but he'll figure it out. ]

give me a few hours to get some tools together and i can be there

[earps]

I'm not going anywhere.

[ maybe a more damning response than she intends, considering their current predicament and whether they'll be stuck here for who knows how long, but that's all she offers before signing off.

she figures he has enough information on where to find her at his fingertips, but keeps her device close at hand in case he needs further direction. she's done enough driving around here on her bike to be familiar with the fastest route out from town.

and it isn't that she worries about keeping a neat house, far from it, but maybe she tries to clean up the kitchen a little before he shows anyway, ditching empty alcohol bottles and clearing the sink of lingering dirty dishes. ]

[castle]

[ by getting some tools together, he'll actually go out to make some purchases on a few basic ones. because since the rise of this app, wynonna's not the only one to have made a request for some handywork services, even if she remains unique as one he's actually accepted. but if this town is going to keep him around for longer than he wants to be, he could be doing something useful in his time, and really, this kind of freelance work would be beneficial in getting around easily and picking up on information that could eventually have its uses.

he tosses it all in a backpack, a variety of wrenches and screwdrivers and the like, and makes his way, never asking for those directions but sending a text as promised a little before he arrives.

seeing her place is the real surprise, considering the small apartment he'd been assigned to, somewhat impressed by the space and seclusion she's taken in for herself, still gazing around the expanse of it even after knocking upon her door. ]

[earps]

[ neither of them had specified a time, though she hadn't been lying when she'd said she had nothing but time these days; the only demon she'd had the misfortune of getting tangled up with had literally gone away when politely asked to, though that doesn't mean she hasn't tried to take other steps to evil-proof the place where she can. waverly's so much better at this part, at the remembering what wards off certain demons over others. too bad she hasn't found a single place in town that stocks ammolite, much less anyone who's even heard of it.

once the cleaning's half-done, she stretches out on the couch, fully intending to just chillax a bit before he gets here — but it's the knock at the door that wakes her up and she realizes she's been napping for god knows how long, rocketing up with a start and an accompanying crick in her neck.

still massaging that sudden tension, she shuffles over to open the front door, fingers stilling when she finds him on the other side. ] Wow. You're here.

[ (because she'd been sleeping when he'd texted before, technically.) ]

[castle]

Yeah, I am. [ he raises his brow at her surprise, considering they'd quite literally arranged for this earlier and warned her just as she'd requested. the strap of tools slumps a little at his shoulder when he tilts his body a little, as if observing her, a subtle tinge of amusement in his eyes. ]

If you need to sneak in another doze, I can come back another time.

[ there's a partial lift of a smirk on his lips, his gaze lingering on the bits of hair on her head a little disorderly, giving away her secrets in how she's been keeping busy. ]

[earps]

Right, sorry, I just — must have lost track of time.

[ she's feeling pretty bleary, blinking a few times to try and bring the rest of the world back into focus, but remains hopelessly ignorant of the current slept-on state of her hair, hand slipping down from its place against the side of her neck before she steps to one side to afford him a wide enough berth for entry.

at the very least, he'll be able to get a firsthand look at exactly the level of shithouse she's having to deal with; if it wasn't the sink, she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt it'd be something else falling apart on her. it'll probably happen right after he leaves, for added irony. ]

So, be honest: how hopeless a situation am I dealing with here?