LITERALLY ALL THE FEEDBACK EVER ON THIS NEXT COUPLE'A THINGS IMMA POST

dxganronpa this is the thingy I'd really like for you to proof read for me

Like, I swear I've been trying to write in Ninja Possession but all that I'm getting inspiration for is Frank Castle because FRANK CASTLE IS MY BABY AND HE NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS even tho he could kill me with no problem with one hand

[I have 1716 words so far in the newest chapter of Ninja Possession is that enough, do you guys think, for a quick chapter??]

But legit; all the feedback on this, I'm trying to get past a mind block

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Well, Bucky's leash got away from me again.

Meaning, y'know... Bucky got away from me again.

He always comes back, though, so I kept at my leisurely pace, shoving my hands into my pants pockets, smiling to myself about my general disposition; I was abnormally relaxed today. I had my sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder because it was that stupid too-warm-in-a-jacket-too-cold-in-a-hoodie time of year, so I opted for half-and-half; and then said sweatshirt decided to finish sliding it's way down my arm. I stopped sludging my way down the sidewalk, pausing in the middle of a small throng of people, "Son of a dick."

It was the beginning of April. The gray snow was melting into black slush -- hence my sludging -- and now my yellow sweatshirt was more than half soaked in whatever unknown substance was in the "snow" on the sidewalk. With a sigh, I pulled the sleeve off my bare arm and tied the dripping thing around my waist before I continued on my way.

The breeze picked up, fanning my hair back, and I squinted into it, still smiling to myself. It was a little cool, and I could hear my fellow Manhattaner's groaning as they tightened their scarfs and pulled down their stocking caps. I shook my head; it's April. Honestly, the snow is melting; man up, guys.

Yes, I'll admit, it was a bit nippy but the sting kind of grows on you like the taste of black coffee grows on you. Or you become numb to the point of no feeling at all. Whichever comes first.

Once in a while I saw a paw print in the slush, sometimes marred by human shoe prints and shuffle-trails, but nonetheless I was able to follow Bucky's initial path in the general direction of my apartment building.

A car drove past, spraying more melting snow towards the sidewalk I was walking on. Several people (myself included) leaped out of the way in a flurry of curses. That gave me the reminder to look up from my soaking wet boots so I could properly find my missing four-month old.

I kind of stopped, though, when I did find him. His leash was in the hand of a man who was kneeling on the sidewalk to be eye-level with Bucky. The man, apparently, didn't care that his pants were now soaked with God-knows-what; all he seemed to care about was ruffling up Bucky's floppy ears.

With a small shake of my head, I continued walking the last sixty or so feet to where the two were, and I squatted down, eventually losing my balance and kneeling on one knee -- granted, with a cringe, "Uh, hi."

He had a dark baseball cap on (it matched his dark jacket) and the bill of the hat had been hiding his face before he looked up at me. He had bruises scattered over his face, mainly on his left cheekbone, and his nose looked like it had been broken many, many times. There were seemingly permanent knuckle marks under his eyes, too, more towards his nose. They went with the one fading black eye and the other darkening black eye.

Nonetheless, though, he smiled. A crooked smile, only one corner of his mouth being pulled up, "Hi."

Okay, I'm going to come right out and say it. Even with the beaten up face, this boy was handsome. He wasn't conventionally handsome, persay, either; there was just something about his dark eyes and strong jaw line that had me intrigued about him, his story, where he got the marks from. And that lopsided smirk. Grr. So far, he had everything that I enjoyed.

I quickly gathered my wits and motioned vaguely towards the puppy, who's leash was now wrapped around the stranger's feet, "Um..."

He gave a start, "Oh, uh," he stood up, and I followed suit, backing up a step, "This one yours?"

"Sadly, yes," I sighed in mock disappointment, "He likes to trip me and then go running."

"He's cute," the man acknowledged, watching the Rottweiler pup chew on his pant leg, "How old is he?"

"Four months," I sheepishly kicked at the ground.

He made a noise, and unwrapped the leash from his hand -- I then saw that both hand's knuckles were red with fresh cuts, "Y'know, I don't think I really wanna give 'im back."

"Feel free to stop by 'nytime..." I trailed off, hoping he'd fill in his name. I was beginning to like this stranger.

"Frank," thankfully, he got the hint.

"Frank," I continued, "'m almos' always home durin' the day an' I live... actually in this building," I motioned to the brick building to my right, "Apartment Twenty-Two E."

He smiled -- Goddamn that lopsided smile -- and shook his head, looking away for a brief moment, "'s this lil' guy's name?"

Speaking of which, I bent and scooped Buck into my arms, attempting to unravel the leash from Frank's ankles, "Bucky."

Frank helped untangle himself, "You mean you named him after that psychopathic, one-armed, amnesiac uptown?" his voice was so deep, but still so casual-sounding about the way he described The Winter Soldier...

It made me want to give him a new bruise on his face.

Instead, I grit my teeth and stepped closer to him. He stood over me by two inches at least, and was still twice the size of me in muscle-mass. He smelled like gunpowder and overall wintertime, "You leave James Barnes alone. Nothing he ever did as the Winter Soldier was his fault."

Frank backed up a half step, holding up his hands in mock-surrender; I could tell he wasn't scared one bit, "Sorry, ma'am."

I snorted at him, "You should be," the whole incident was already past me. Hoisting Bucky under my arm a little better, I began past Frank and up the stairs to my building, "Nice meeting you," I chirped over my shoulder.

"Hey, wait a minute, y'little spitfire," he caught my attention with that nickname, so I turned around to look towards him, but he was already right behind me. So, I basically bumped into him, "'s your name?"

"Rebekah Hall," I suppose it had slipped my mind to introduce myself. I never really had to do it anymore, since I hadn't met a new person in so many years, "My one friend jus' calls me Bekah, or Bek. He's lazy like that."

Frank just snorted, shaking his head, again, as he turned to go back down the steps, but thought better of it and turned back around, reaching straight for Bucky. However, he pulled his hands back, shaking his head, ""I got somewhere to be."

"Then go," I gently waved him off with my free hand, struggling to contain the wriggling brick of puppy with my other; apparently Bucky liked his new friend and didn't want to see him leave, "Don't want you to be late for your important shit. You know where I am, just barge in whenever y'want."

He made a very distinctive noise as he walked back down the stairs. It was a noise that clearly said, 'not gonna happen.' He waved over his shoulder without turning back, one singular, real quick motion of his hand, "See ya 'round, kid."  

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THIS JUST IN:

I can't write Frank Castle. **really sarcastic :D **

But yeah. All the feedback, if you would be so kind. If not, oh whale, I'll live

P.S:

's is only part one, of, like, 26578825672 parts cuz I just need to get this outta my system 'm really sorry for not writing in what y'all want me to :/