#fun fact I actually was making a chain with one bone sticking out then decided to scrap the chain and do a hand but was rushing bc my frien

[thegoldenlily]

We do bones

[stark-tony]

underrated irondad and spiderson fic recs part 2

part 1

Queer Eye for the Cacti by silentsaebyeok

summary: He bought one-hundred cacti on Amazon! Pepper was going to kill him!

What had possessed him to do such a thing? He never went on shopping sprees when drunk. That just wasn’t a Tony Stark type of thing to do. And in all honesty, he was astonished he even remembered the Amazon password.

--

Tony makes an interesting purchase while drunk. What he doesn’t expect is for said purchase to bite him in the ass in the worst possible way.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Tumblr Posts by Jen27ny

summary:   Literally what the title says. All the prompts and one-shots I post on tumblr.

pairings: pepperony, spideychelle

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

warnings:

It Lasts for Always by YellowDistress

summary:  Peter has never asked anyone to kill for him, especially not Tony.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Cursed Christmas by sahiya

summary: A series of unfortunate events befalls Tony, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan (and Happy and May) in the week leading up to Christmas.

It'd be kind of funny if it didn't totally suck. Fortunately, they've got good back-up.

pairings: pepperony

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Keeping your head up by frostysunflowers

summary: It’s been a while, a long while, since Tony felt this defenceless. He’s without a suit, the manacle around his ankle is solid steel, and he can’t see a single way out.

 He’s been here before, but back then there had been tools, resources, options.

Here, there’s just the walls, his missing kid and the water. 

The water.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: kidnapping

Young, Dumb and Suffering by wordscorrupt

summary: In a moment of desperation, Peter decides to take Steve's pain medication to relieve a migraine.

or

Peter accidentally overdoses on pain medication.

pairings: none

tags: 

warnings:

Midnight Oil by JolinarJackson

summary:  After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

pairings: spideychelle, pepperony

tags: hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

Love Will Remind Us Who We Are by blondsak

summary: There had been many times in Tony’s life when he’d known the piercing clarity that separated a Good Day from a Bad Day. Had known the ways in which, upon first waking, one’s soul would strike a balance between agony and relief either in your favor, or not.

But none of his earlier Good and Bad times had prepared him for his reality now.

//

Nine months after the Avengers defeated Thanos, Tony is still reckoning with the toll the final snap took on his body. Between grueling physical therapy, near-constant pain, and the inability to so much as tie his own shoes, well-- things aren’t exactly like Tony had imagined.

Luckily for him, there’s a certain kid from Queens who won’t let Tony give up so easily.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Summertime Sickness by Spideysickfics

summary: "Well, this is your lucky day, then!" Peter replied enthusiastically, putting his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest as he broke into a wide grin, "You're looking at a former Boy Scout!"

Tony let out a huff of air.

"No shit, a Boy Scout, huh? When did you quit?"

"First grade." Peter's grin didn’t waver. Tony rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"I'm sure you're very knowledgeable."

OR

An Irondad camping trip and sickfic to soothe your soul

pairings: none

tags: 

warnings: none

to break in these bones by searchingforstars

summary: “We’re gonna go play baseball? I’m not exactly a great shot, and you might have to let me out of these first,” Peter rattles his wrists around in the metal chains and they clink together, echoing around the sparse room, “but sounds like fun.

“We’re not playing baseball.”

“Shame, because I passed a park on my way here and I’m pretty sure that there’s only been like, six murders there this year so that could have been a fun spot.”

“I’m going to enjoy this, you fucked up little kid.”

“Hey, I’m not a little-” Peter starts, but he’s cut off by all the air being knocked out of his lungs as he sees the bat raised in front of him.

--

or, Peter doesn't listen to Tony, pisses off someone dangerous and ends up on the wrong end of a baseball bat.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

5 Times Peter Gave Tony Something by impravidus

summary:  and the 1 time Tony gave him something back

pairings:  none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

You'll Be Here (in My Heart) by seekrest

summary:  The morning that Tony’s life changed forever began as his days usually began now — shuffling into the kitchen half asleep, going through the motions as he searched for Pepper’s favorite coffee mug.

Tony stifled a yawn, grabbing the Black Panther novelty mug she adored while he grabbed one that Morgan had made them years ago - one that made her now cringe with embarrassment anytime she saw him use it, the childish scribbles that made him laugh.

  He sets Morgan’s creation down on the countertop as he reaches for the Black Panther mug, it being just barely out of reach for when Pepper has put it last.

“Damn thing.” Tony mutters to himself, fingers barely brushing against it before he grabs it - going to set it down on the counter only to be surprised when Pepper walks in from the bedroom, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Morning. You know, you and I need to have a talk about about your choice of mugs. I know T’Challa somehow perfected the cup warmer thing here but you could at least show a little—“

“Michelle’s in labor.”

pairings: spideychelle

tags: angst

warnings: none

the little things we don't say out loud by JBS_Forever

summary: “It's not funny,” Peter says, voice catching as he whines, “This is life or death, Ned. I'm actually dying.”

On the other end of the line, Ned sighs, amused and not at all concerned. “So you're Mr. Stark's secret Santa. It's not that bad.”

- - -

In which Peter is Tony's secret Santa, and it is, in fact, that bad.

pairings: none

tags: humor, fluff

warnings: none

Hiking Essentials: A backpack, plenty of water, and a Spider-kid by kiwifeather

summary:  Morgan, Peter, and Tony enjoy each other's company on a hike through the woods while Peter is staying with them for the weekend. Father-and-son bonding ensues

(Takes place after the snap but Tony survives because this is the good timeline and we know that Tony deserved a happy ending)

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

In Case of Emergency by Bowtiez

summary: Babysitting his little sister at the Stark's lakeside cabin seems like quite the gig for 17-year-old Peter. Of course he's got that covered- he's a mature individual and he can watch over a five-year-old for forty-eight hours.

On a totally unrelated note, did anyone know that super-healing doesn't really work on bacterial infections? It's a good thing Morgan knows what to do. Well... it's probably a good thing?

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Three Times Tony Stark Used Italian Nicknames and One Time He Received One by MCUsic_to_my_ears

summary:   Tony can't help but slip into his Italian when with his children.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

More Ancient Than Magic by ironfamjam

summary: Life isn't exactly normal when your Head of House is also kinda your father-figure and his daughter is kinda sorta your little sister.

It's also not normal when the bad guys your real-life-war-hero-not-actually-dad defeated in The Great War threaten to return and you're still just trying to finish your Charms essay.

But Professor Stark asked him to protect Morgan. And that's what he's going to do.

Even if it breaks him.

The mini Hogwarts AU

pairings: spideychelle, pepperony

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: torture

Peaches by peterparkr

summary: There’s no response, not even a faint twinge of muscle. Peter tries to listen for a heartbeat, but he can’t seem to focus enough to pinpoint it. Another bubble of thought starts to rise. This could be the reason his spidey-sense is going haywire. Tony could be—

He pushes the bubble down.

OR

Peter and Tony find themselves stranded in the woods after an Avengers mission

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Snowflakes by Jen27ny

summary:  Tony just wants to see his kids happy - which means letting Morgan stick as many snowflakes to the window as she likes, and making Peter talk about his nightmares.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

I Sure Do Like Those Christmas Cookies by baloobird

summary: Tony is spending a fun afternoon baking cookies with his kids, but his older one isn't acting like himself.

Whatever the problem is, it's up to the now-retired hero to figure it out.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: bullying, acephobia

An MIT Halloween by bethy_277

summary: Coming to MIT had been difficult, having almost lost his mentor when he had snapped to save the entire universe, and Peter had really struggled. If it hadn’t been for Ned and Harley- who he had met shortly after he came back and become good friends with- he didn’t think he would have made it past the first few weeks at school. He had called both May and Tony that first week, hysterical and begging to come back to New York. May had been patient, Tony had been ready to get in his car to drive to him to help him through it, and Harley and Ned had been there and talked him down both times.  

** Peter is a college student at MIT and Tony brings Morgan up for some trick-or-treating.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Someone Take Me Home by GallagherHunter

summary:  More than a month since May's death Peter is having a less than stellar day at school in the hopes of making it through the day so he can get to the apartment where he's been living with Tony since his world came crashing around him. Meanwhile, Tony has been advised to adopt Peter to assure him he won't leave him.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

It’s Gonna Be Lit by Pawprinter

summary: What Christmas gift does one get for the man who seemingly has everything?

Peter is struggling to find out.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

I'll Be Home For Christmas by snarkymuch

summary:  May gets called away for work, and Tony steps in to make sure Peter isn't alone for Christmas. Harley, Morgan, and Peter being adorable kids, and Tony being a great dad.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

The power of makeup by SparrowFlight246

summary: Peter shows up to a prestigious awards ceremony with a black eye and a whole lot of regret.

Tony raids Pepper's purse and decides to improvise.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

if you'll be my star, i'll be your sky by ftmpeter

summary: There are two things Tony learns about Peter after Morgan is born.

The first thing is that when it comes to kids, he's a natural.

The second thing is that he's a self-sacrificing little shit.

(Tony already knew that. He has the gray hairs to prove it. But. Still.)

It isn't the kind of self-sacrificing that will get him killed or seriously injured - thank God - but it's just as annoying. Maybe even more, because while he can ground Peter from Spider-Man, he can't exactly ground him from staying up all night to make sure Morgan sleeps through it.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

give the cookies a miss by searchingforstars

summary: “Surprise!” Morgan exclaims as soon as they’re both in the room. She gestures excitedly towards a few slightly sad looking lumps of something drenched in icing and severed onto sticks. There are sprinkles as well, which look like they might have been a nice touch to cheer the entire thing up, had the majority of them not ended up scattered around the surrounding bench space.

“Daddy and I made cookie pops! Well, I made them, he just helped me use the big scary whisk-y thingy. They’re for Katie’s birthday party tomorrow because we all have to bring something yummy to eat, and Daddy wanted to do regular cookies but I told him that was boring. So we made these instead!”

--

or, Peter is poisoned by the ones he trusts most.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

i want to be with you 'til the whole world ends by searchingforstars

summary: The last thing he does as his eyes slip shut is wrap his arms tighter around Peter, as tight as he can manage when it feels like the life is draining from him.

Please, for the love of God, I'm sorry I couldn't do it, but please, please, someone look after this kid for me.

Tony would give anything to make sure that Peter Parker is safe.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much left to give. He’s about to have nothing left to give.

The world goes dark.

He drifts away.

--

Or, Peter and Tony nearly lose each other.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Of bright autumn days and things that go bump in the night by frostysunflowers

summary: Halloween/fall themed fics featuring plenty of fluff, feels and seasonal shenanigans!

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor, angst

warnings: none

Twelve Days of Terror: A Whumptober Collection by seekrest

summary:

pairings: spideychelle

tags: 

warnings: 

[uchukiyoo]

No feelings, just fun.

prompt : your best friend and you are both alone for valentine’s day so you decide to spend the day together ;)

pairing : Johnny (NCT) X Reader

Genre : Smut

Word count : 963

You and Johnny, your best friend were laying on your bed, looking at your bedroom’s ceiling, complaining about your respective sentimental lives.

“Life sucks...” you said, stretching your legs.

“Yeah…you remember that girl I liked, Yeeun ?” Continued Johnny

“Yeah ?”

“Well I think she's doing Jaehyun…”

“Really? But I thought she liked you too”

“Shit...that kinda sucks” You said, sitting up straight

“Yeah me too, I guess I'm just too good for her.” Said Johnny, doing the same

“Yes you are”

“It's been like 3 years since I've been in a relationship and tomorrow it's Valentine's day...” He groaned.

“Oh god please no... I'm tired of watching Crazy Stupid Love every year...I swear I know every single fucking line of this movie…” you complained, burying your face in Johnny’s neck

“I can’t stand watching Ryan Gosling anymore…”

You stayed silent a moment and Johnny suddenly said :

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“We're good looking, right?”

“Hell yeah honey, we're smoking hot.”

“So how come nobody wants to fuck us?”

“I don't understand, life must be too unfair…”

You stayed quiet again.

-“I guess if no one fuck us we'll have to do it ourselves...He declared, getting in a more comfortable position.”

“Let's make a deal, if we don't find anyone for tomorrow, as the amazing friends we both are, we should do it together.”

“Deal. No feelings, just fun.”

“No feelings, just fun!”

You said, sticking your pinky fingers together.

  You were so desperate, it was already Wednesday morning and you just got an email, school had been cancelled because of the snow. It meant no valentines cards in your locker, no flowers or love confessions from strangers and most of all, no chances to find, at least, a one-night stand.

You were lying in your bed when you remembered the deal you made with Johnny. So you stood up, ready to have fun.

You were about to put your shoes on when the front door opened.

Johnny entered, pinned you to the wall and smashed his lips on yours.

He moved to your cheek, jaw and this spot in your neck. He mumbled "just for fun" to your ear, before going back to your mouth deepening the kiss turning this whole thing into a make out session.

You let go of your shoes to put your arms around his neck. You could tell he was really horny because he was really really touchy.

His hands were going from your back to your hips and from your hips to your butt.

“Let's do more serious things...” He whispered to your hear, carrying you bridal style to your bedroom.

He put you on the bed and started to unbutton the lose shirt you were wearing. His fingers were gently caressing your ribs as he was sucking on your neck, leaving purple spots. You were enjoying the moment, you let out a moan which made him smirk in the sexiest way ever.

You two were so desperate for the other that the heat was already rising.

You removed his shirt to reveal his slightly defined abs and switched positions. You were now grinding on him, kissing his collar bones. You could tell that he was enjoying it by his hard-on growing under you.”

“it feels so good…” he said with a deeper voice than usual.

You were so turned on, you could feel your panties getting soaking wet. Johnny seemed to read your mind, he unbuckled you belt and slid your jeans down with your panties.

“You're already so wet…”

“Do something about it.”

You were so needy it almost made you cringe. After teasing you for a bit, he finally slid two fingers inside you, moving them at the perfect pace and hitting the right spot.

“Oh my...that' so good”

He loved so much the fact that he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how much you like it babe”

“I…like it...so much.” you tried to say as you felt your core tighten.

He knew you were on the edge, so he instantly removed his fingers.

“What the fuck Johnny!” You said in frustration.

“Sorry, but you gotta keep that for me ~”

He put down his pants and boxers, freeing his hard member. After putting on a condom, he positioned himself at your entry and pushed slowly in, letting out a deep groan. Johnny started back and forth movements at a rather slow pace, filling you entirely.

“H-harder...”

“I'm gonna fuck your brain's out...” he whispered in your hear before speeding up.

All you could hear was breathing, skin slapping and moans.

He was trailing his finger on your bear skin, groping your unclothed chest.

He suddenly changed position, making you ride him.

“You're so beautiful Y/N…” he said, panting.

You could feel tickles in your tummy which were announcing your near the end.

“Come 'on Y/N...cum for me will you”

His voice set a sort of chain reaction in your body which triggered your orgasm.

It didn't take so much time for him to finish too.

What just happened.

That was the only thing you could think about.

You suddenly felt your cheeks blush so you covered yourself.

“Feeling a little flustered?” Asked Johnny, still naked. “It’s not like we just had sex right” he continued, chuckling, obviously making fun of you.

“Yeah…I mean, don’t you feel weird?”

He put his boxers back on before sitting on the bed.

“What? Was it bad?”

“No…actually it was probably the best I’ve ever had but you know…it’s you.”

“ I’m not following Y/N”

“You’re my best friend Johnny, it just feels like I just fucked my bro”

“Sweet home alabamaaaa” he sang before bursting out laughing. “No but seriously, I know what you mean though. But hey, valentine’s day happens only once a year.” He winked.

  This is my first time writing one of those ! i hope you’ll like it ^^ also English isn’t my first language sorry if there are mistakes 😬

- Sun

[shadlad24]

More Funny Little Moments #1: Season 1, Episodes 1-12

So, I decided to do this post after all. Halp. LOL Because I apparently LOVE giving myself a bunch of unnecessary work, I decided to choose two to three extra moments, per episode! SUPER halp! X’D Anyway, these are moments that didn’t make the cut for my FFLM series because: my sense of humor is a little weird, they were gonna be too much work (LOL/Siiigh), I like to highlight patterns, and I don’t like a lot of repetition. [Links to each FFLM along the bottom of the post. :)]

Let’s start with something I originally agreed with other fans on but have since changed my mind. A lot of people didn’t like this part of “Chariots of War” because it seems so ludicrous that Xena would forget her chakram anywhere. Well, let me tell you! This lady has left her weapons behind most episodes thus far. I didn’t note it every time here (and especially didn’t bother with her whip) because that’d really overrun the post buuuuut… You’ll see. XD

1.01 Sins of the Past

Xena’s shift being so much dirtier than the little boy’s clothes though she’s high up off the ground, and he lives in smoked-out rubble.

Yup. Xena forgot her sword (and later, her main saddlebag) at her mother’s tavern. Pft.

Sorry these were kinda lame, but I didn’t want to re-use any more of the original fifteen points I made about this episode... Ah well. Moving on! (heh)

1.02 Chariots of War

Xena loses her sword after the chariot crash, taking up and discarding Sphaerus’s but walking off without her own. (See her front and back and both of Argo’s sides.)

Gabrielle chewing Xena out, Xena being bummed about it, and Argo being surprised. X’D

1.03 Dreamworker

This got me good. Gabrielle does Xena’s war cry so well here that I really thought it was Xena for a few seconds. Realizing it was GabbyWabs only made me chuckle more because she apparently can’t do it when it really counts in “The Greater Good.”

Argo NOT being on Team Gabrielle. XD (Their feud is a little funny to me.)

1.04 Cradle of Hope

Xena tossing aside her sword after killing Nemos. Extras even dance and celebrate right on top of it! Wut thuh?

I decided to avoid mentioning Hope in the FFLM because Xena’s quote here is more ironic than comedic, and Gabrielle’s little face is just so sad, but I didn’t want to let it pass by entirely unremarked upon. At least GW gets to show off her oracle skills again? :’)

1.05 The Path Not Taken

So, Xena and Gabrielle walk into a bar… Heh. No, but really, they enter this tavern for the first time ever, yet the bartender not only knows what they want, he knows that they’re coming and has their drinks waiting for them too. All Xena has to do is knock on the counter and nod to get her fire-breath alcohol/oil, and Gabrielle barely has the word “cider” out of her mouth before the guy hands it to her. Xena, like me, is duly amazed.

Lucy, through Xena, making another timely anti-peanut statement. I just didn’t want to do the same thing twice back-to-back in the FFLM. X)

1.06 The Reckoning

Gabrielle thinking along the same lines Xena and I did about this poor excuse for a judge.

Me not being well-versed in ancient Greek heroes and picturing the fool who Draco killed so handily in the first episode. heh

1.07 The Titans

I’ll let Xena explain this one. …Mostly. I can’t believe Gabrielle not only sassed the Titans such that she unashamedly put Xena and Phyleus in danger too, but also kinda got this (admittedly awful) town demolished and didn’t lift a finger to actually help anyone in the temple. Tsk tsk. XP

So… Hyperion here can smash homes and businesses that were probably well-built and reinforced and all, but he can’t get his hand out of a stocks-cuff that was made in a single evening with scraps from those destroyed buildings. He also, inexplicably, has no use of his left hand or the power-breath that he used to knock Gabrielle over. Okie. XD

1.08 Prometheus

Is this really a thing? I was giggling quite a bit in disbelief that severed windpipes can heal. Like, perforated is one thing; completely bisected? Yeah, I don’t think so.

Gabrielle being incredulous upon learning that Xena has other friends, realizing what the warrior princess means, and then wondering if that could be her one day. 

   1.09 Death in Chains

Gabrielle enjoying watching Xena kill someone for the first time, then quickly realizing that fact. Whoops.

I found this moment really odd and then kind of hilarious. This poor dying old woman begs for water and goes ignored not only by the hospice workers, but also Talus and Gabrielle. Then Talus decides to be helpful. Gabrielle goes to the woman and lets her talk a lot (undoubtedly drying her mouth and throat even more), hears that Xena might be in danger, and then just… leaves. Talus goes with her, not having gotten water from the well after all. What a couple of jerks! XD

1.10 Hooves & Harlots

I really don’t know why Gabrielle kept making this face as Terreis died, but it tickled my funny bone too. So, I provided alternate subs to go with it. [Did you notice how she kind of cringes when Terreis tries to hold her hand and then just lets the Amazon flop once she’s died, flinging her hand aside like, “Ew, get it off me!”? What was that all about? X”) Hm… maybe she has an aversion to dying people, and that’s why she abandoned the old lady last episode?]

Gabrielle being a smart aleck, just like me, because Phantes’s complaint here is so ludicrous. But then you see the close-up of little hoofies in cuffs too, and, if you’re anything like me too, kinda just topple over laughing. The poor actual horse they did this to, though, man! What even?

Gosh, this episode was chockfull of hilarity, eh? Why did this happen? Gabby, take it away!

1.11 The Black Wolf

I laughed at this too. But now I wonder. Is Xerxes related to Caesar and/or connected to Rome or something? Because Xena does this twice around them too. In “When in Rome,” she jokes that the two guards lost playing tag with her, and in “A Good Day” she informs Pompey that if there were more guards hiding around their meeting space, then she would have had more helmets. heh Oh, Xenie. I think I know why Gabrielle’s turning out to be such a little punk ...or vice versa? Is Gabrielle actually a bit of a bad influence on Xena? XP

So, this fight just struck me as really odd. Xena passes her sword to Flora though she (Xena) needs to battle the big boss of the episode, and… actually, is totally right. The king throws a single wide-ass punch, waits while Xena kicks the guy behind her a few times, lets himself get kicked in the face a couple of times, and then comes at her with a little piece of chain, presumably from the restraints that were intended to keep Flora in place during her execution. Sir, you have a sword! A giant sword, right there on your hip! What are you doing? Then, when Xena kicks him a final time and sends him flying, his (supposed-to-be) metal armor is no match for the splintered wood of the axe she broke earlier. …Okie. XD XD XD   *gif below*

Xena once again leaves her chakram somewhere. …And I am now imagining this being part of Gabrielle’s maid duties: the poor kid has to go find Xena’s weapons each night and bring them back to her. I’m especially imaging the fluffball hilariously, adorably struggling to get the chakram out of things like this wall, as she did with Xena’s sword in the tree stump in “Dreamworker,” but more parallel to the floor. Cuuuute! XD

This plus this 

*pic + GIF below*:

1.12 Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts

This scene too really made me wonder, though amused as well. Why is Gabrielle so surprised that the only city nearby, that they were headed to, is the one they find? Is she really being that loud? Is Xena goofing around with the bootlaces question? Why startle Gabrielle and then yank her into enemy territory screaming, when what you want is quiet? What’s with the trapdoor-spider soldiers? Xena’s pose throwing the chakram. XD Gabrielle mostly featherlight dance-y moves through the battlefield. XD XD XD Why is it that when Xena tells Gabrielle to stick right behind her, Gabrielle disappears? And what was with the bucket-sitting soldier? Gabrielle is like, “Oh; no, thank you!” when she sees him and turns tail. Then Xena ...follows her. “We’re goin’ this way! Now we’re goin’ that way!” But they still end up dead-ahead from where they burst out of the bushes. XD That was ridiculous and nonsensical, and I’m very confused but had lots of fun. heheheh  *gif below* [ETA: Darn! The original file was too big, so I had to remake the GIF and cut quite a few things out. :( Sorry]

Xena’s outta-nowhere crusade to emasculate Deiphobus coming full-circle. What was that all about?

Welp, I hope you had as much fun as I originally and then later did. Not so much in the middle with the collage-and-GIF-making and editing and redoing, but; y’know. XD Wouldn’t trade it for …Hm… Nevermind. LOL

If you missed any of the FFLMs, then please click on the corresponding number-links below. :D

#1  #2  #3  #4  #5 #6 #7 #8 #9 #10 #11 #12

[arcadequeerz]

WS AU Henry, Human/prestudio WS Sammy, N WS AU Linda!

>Picrew<

-Lil Facts!-

Henry bi transman! his pronouns r he/him!

Sammy prestudio is in the closet,  but they’re queer! Gender? Sexuality? They’re queer. Their pronouns r He/They/She Sammy is also Autistic!

Linda is Queer amab nonbinary!!! Her pronouns r she/her or they/them. Her n Henry get married a bit after his quite from the studio.

uUUH post studio after Henry n Sammy escape- they are together, n eventually Sammy, Henry n Linda r all together n In Love polyam rights!!!!!!!! Sammy gets: a lovely Husband and darling spouse who love them very much. She also feels safe enough, n trusts the two them enough to come out to them!!! They love her v mch.

-Prestudio Sam doens’t actually have the tail or ears its just relevant to the au, n also- is cute. d:>c They usually keep her hair up in a ponytail, n Linda does as well. Sammy’s 6′4, Henry’s 5′4 and Linda’s 5′10

>uuuuh rly shitty basic summary of the au<

(me n my friend Kit @apxlllo(who works on the au with me, and has written so mch Lovely stuff for the au) do plan to write up a proper post/more detailed summary on the au soon hopefully!, this is just a v basic barebones summary of the au I wrote up- A looot of stuff has been left out, this is just a gist of things! We also hav a doc for au stuff tht I hope to eventually try n get organized at Some point tht I’ll Post whenever its done)

To Sum things up in Short: Sammy after being killed by Bendy after having tried sacrificing Henry, comes back, crawling out of the ink puddles only to get captured by Alice/Susie. Their dragged back to her lair and once there she decides to make use of him, and starts to rip him open, pull his insides out and pull him apart to turn him into another of her monsters- She removes his insides, and starts to replace them with Butchered Boris guts, and she starts to notice how his body is reacting to it- absorbing the ink and she finds that Very interesting. When she’s finished with this- done Torturing him basically, prodding his insides and pulling them apart, she sews him back up before injecting some of her own ink into him, Which links the two of them which in turn means she can Control/Influence them in a sense. After this is done to him- He ends up transforming into a big Inky weremonster(Who I call Were-Sammy) for the first time, the process is..Extremely painful, and she watches it happen, smiling the entire time.

Oh he’s simply PERFECT, She can definitely use him to her advantage..he’d make a perfect monster for her. Initially though, His form is quite unstable, which causes him to erratically turn back and forth(which is very painful mind you-) so while she’s fine tuning him, working on her newest monster, Henry continues to be her lil errand boy. 

Until, Sammy is finally acting like she wants.

She can force him to turn into his wereself whenever she wishes him to, and his first order is to kill that Animator running around HER studio- She sends him after Henry, fully expecting him to come back covered in his blood, or at least carrying his Corpse, but instead, he comes back, tail between his legs, having not been able to kill Henry(there’s more to this in the au but!), She’s quite mad at him for this. Forces him to turn back to himself, far faster then Normal, leaving him a melted mess on the floor as she shouts at him about how she wants Results- and if she doesn’t get them she might just have to pull him open again- he begs her not to, he can kill them- He swears, She just says she wants results, she wants him dead, and she wants it Now- Before he can react. She’s forcing him to turn again, And sets her monster off back on their goal to kill Henry.

She keeps sending him after Henry- But he keeps coming back empty handed every time which just enrages her more with each time, Making her lash out at him, He’ll turn back and she’ll immediately force him to turn again, and when their too weak for that, she lets him have a Little rest, which just consists of him locked in a single room, chained to a wall so he can’t escape, before she decides he’s rested enough, and walks into the room to drag him out to force him to turn again. In the beginning, Every time she’d open the door, he’d scream, beg her not to, struggle against her, kick and scream but after a while he just, Stopped trying. There was no reason to delay the inevitable. there was no stopping it. So he gave up Fighting it, or trying. 

Eventually, At some point while Hunting Henry she turns back, and Henry finds them. He’s immediately concerned, He wants to help them, tries to approach him but he just screams at him to get the fuck away from him- to just leave him, to get Away from them- Because his wereself..Doesn’t really LIKE Henry all that much- because he’s the reason their ‘Angel’  is so cruel and awful to them- He manages to convince Henry to leave him, fighting back his wereself to keep himself from changing, which lets Henry get away as he finally can’t hold it back anymore. Henry runs away, as he hears Sammy’s screaming, the sound of bone breaking, and at that moment he realizes the new Monster Alice made is Sammy- He decides then he needs to save him, to get him away from Alice.

After that Henry has two goals, One: Save Sammy, and Two: Escape the studio with him. At some point Henry is able to get Sammy away from Alice- n then the two are working together/sticking together to get out of the studio, While dealing with the hassle of Sammy just, randomly turning into his wereself, and the problems with himself being a big Inky weremonster. Also in the process of this...The two get close, end up falling for each other, In the beginning of Sammy realizing he’s falling for Henry, he tries Desperately to convince himself he hasn’t, he doesn’t love him, and tries to lie to himself that he Doesn’t, There’s no happy endings here, he shouldn’t- but he can’t lie to himself, for the first time in so long, he has Hope, He feels hope because Henry assures him they’ll get out of here, that they’ll escape- Together- and truly, for the first time it feels so possible, Henry is so caring to him- he’s so kind to him- He can’t lie to himself that he hasn’t fallen for Henry, that he doesn’t Love him- even if he does try telling himself that in the beginning.

Henry feels the same, He loves Sammy so much and he’d do anything for him- he means the world to him, and he’s the reason he keeps fighting to get out, to get him out of there, to be free, as well as to see Linda again- but he fights for them both to get out of this inky hell, Together- he won’t leave without him.

The two become very close, become much more then just companions or friends, ending up together, and eventually they DO escape the studio: Together, and live with Linda at her and Henry’s home. After being there for a bit, Linda and Sammy grow close, end up falling in love, and all three of them are together and love one another very Much- Linda and Henry? Love their amazing inky wife so Much, and Sammy loves them too, he’s never felt so happy- and so Full of love as she does now with them- they mean the world to him and she is so thankful to have them in his life, and get to wake up every morning to them both.

BUT- YEAH! This is the gist of the au- i left out a lot of like specific Scenes in the au, like Before Sammy and Henry leave the studio- Susie/Alice is killed, that’s a big scene in the au- amongst stuff tht happens with Bendy once outside the studio- buuut YEAH- that’s the gist of the au HGDHHGSH Sorry if this is poorly written- or a mess, I do plan to work wqith kit to get a better post on the au up eventually, and plan on organizing the au doc to share soon! Eventually there will be drawings of the lads- Eventually, especially Inky Sammy- There are drawings of Were-Sam you can find on my blog though if you go looking. THOUGH- Here’s a description of Were-Sam, 

Were-Sammy stands about 8, almost 9ft tall, His body is a dark black color that shifts between darker shades of black(this color shifting is quite slow usually, so it isn’t Too noticable), and is covered in melty, inky fur. The fur is soft, but Also melty n he has ink kiind of melting off of him. His hands are semi paw like with sharp claws and his feet are half melted paws. He has a long melty tail covered in melty black fur, the underside of the tails fur is longer/meltier. His ears are long, wide at the base and thinner towards the ends of them. He has long sharp canine like teeth. and his eyes are piecut, a glowy amberish red, and ink of the same color is constantly melting down from his eyes down his face. His inky fur is thicker/longer around his neck and down his back along his spine. Body wise? He’s muscular but also kiinda chubby. I’m not very good at describing body types so forgive me 😔.

n a lil bit on were-sammy specifically:

Were-Sammy is very affectionate to both Linda and Henry and love them both very much, he’s a big Lovable fool, jus a big Puby. Sometimes when Sammy turns, He’s just themselves, other times their far more wolf then herself. Were-sammy is very nice to them both- very lovable and very protective. He is...good sweet lad, and Linda and Henry lov their big Monster Husband so much. Were-sammy? Good boy. Also due to being a weremonster, Sammy does have his more monstery traits come out when he isn’t even in their wereform! Such as: Howling(both Linda and Henry find it great fun to howl to try and get Sammy to- They do not appreciate it), growling, whining, n at times acting Kiiind of like his wereself, one specific thing is: when Linda or Henry come home from being out- she gets SO HAPPY AND EXCITED TO SEE THEM- Immediately has to get up and rush over to the door to greet them and hug them- He’s very affectionate, and snuggly! He does have a ‘half’ form he will occasionally shift into, Which is pretty much him gaining his claws, sharper teeth and his ears n tail, as well as gettin Kinda fluffie(aka getting some of his fur, specifically going down his back- Soft), In his half form they tend to act more of their wereself at times- and are very excitable!!! jus...good puby..

[bytheangell]

omg, please write about Malec in Havana

With You Tonight(Read on AO3)

The first thing that strikes Alec about Havana are the colors. There are so many of them, the buildings ranging from soft pastel pinks and greens to bold teals and oranges, bringing immediate life to a city full of rich history. Magnus tells him little details while they walk, opting once they’re there to travel around the mundane ways to fully take in the scenery rather than portal from place to place and miss the beauty in-between.

They stop in small restaurants, little shops barely big enough to fit the two of them, and a number of other places off the beaten path that Magnus added to his ‘must-see’ list throughout the year. Alec wonders how many other people he brought along this same tour, how many times he might have visited on his own… and yet at each and every stop Magnus’ eyes are alight with eagerness at sharing them with him. And all at once it doesn’t matter if he’s the 1st or the 100th to see the small book shop Magnus pulls him into (where he happens to find a very rare, old text on weaponry that he buys for the next time he needs a gift for Isabelle), because it’s the first time they’re experiencing it together, and these are moments only the two of them will have.

Moments Alec plans on cherishing forever.

After a day mostly to themselves, with minimal crowds besides the heavier foot traffic along the main streets at the start and end of the day, Magnus tells him that he does need to take him to one touristy thing before they can call it quits for the night - a night out at the biggest dance club in the city.

The music is loud, the humidity of the day has grown to stifling proportions, so that the black slacks and black dress shirt Alec wears are both sticking to his skin, and yet somehow Magnus doesn’t have a single hair out of place in his fitted maroon top with matching accents in hair that defies the laws of gravity (and weather conditions) with how tall it stands. Magnus draws the eyes of everyone  in the room and Alec is among them, eyes trailing down the gold chains that hang down his neck over a long line of exposed skin thanks to many, many undone shirt buttons.

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” Alec mumbles, taking little comfort in the eyes he feels on them as Magnus eagerly drags him onto the dance floor despite knowing it isn’t him they’re watching, not really.

“Oh, Alexander, you need to unwind! Just follow my lead, there’s nothing to it.” Magnus insists, and Alec decides to give it a chance.

He’s… not great.

He isn’t terrible. He can read and predict the body movements of another person (a combat skill he took to early on) and he’s practiced dance before in a much more formal setting than half-melting in the heat of a Cuban club, so he doesn’t entirely lack rhythm. But the more he tries to copy Magnus the more aware he becomes of how far from that level he is. In fact, it doesn’t take more than a quick glance around him to see that he’s easily the worst dancer there, something all the more obvious next to Magnus with his hips moving so fluidly you wouldn’t think there were solid bones underneath at all.

It only goes downhill from there. In true Alec Lightwood fashion he begins to overthink, trying too hard and messing up twice as much when he does. He’s tripping over his own feet as often as he is Magnus’, and though his boyfriend laughs it off and smiles each and every time with unlimited patience and amusement in his eyes, Alec is too frustrated with himself to enjoy any of it after very long.

A woman sidles up to them, a dark haired beauty in a red dress with revealing slit up the side and matching red strappy heels, looking Alec up and down in obvious judgement. “You look like you could use a break, darling. Mind if I cut in?”

“Sorry, but I’m afraid I’m-” Magnus begins, ready to send her away without a second thought, but Alec shakes his head.

“Actually, I’m going to go get a drink. Go ahead, if you want. I’ll be right back.” Magnus loves dancing, he loves clubs, and he should be enjoying this place far more than he could possibly be with Alec holding him back. Excusing himself Alec heads towards the bar and orders himself a drink, watching as Magnus and the woman spin and dip, the movements coming as instinctively as breathing.

He looks away and finishes his drink, signalling for a second. The music changes and he makes no move to return to the dance floor, and it isn’t until partway through a third song that he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“What happened to being right back?” Magnus asks, sliding onto  the open seat next to him.

“I figured you might like a bit of a break,” Alec says with a dismissive shrug.

“From you?” Magnus sounds confused, and the question is so innocent and unaware of the thoughts swirling in Alec’s head that Alec can’t help but laugh.

“From having to hold up a barely competent dance partner,” he clarifies. “I saw how good she was out there, I figured I’d let you have some actual fun for a bit.”

Magnus shakes his head. “You’re impossible sometimes, Alexander.”

“What? Why?” Alec asks, finishing off his second drink while growing increasingly positive the alcohol and the heat were not a great combination.

“I was enjoying myself because I was with you. Did you really think I’d want to spend the rest of the night with some stranger while my amazing boyfriend sulks by the bar?” “I was not–” Alec starts to argue, but sighs. “Alright, maybe I was sulking a little. Sorry.”

Magnus doesn’t look mad, though. “Don’t be. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

“No, we can stay! I know how much you were looking forward to this tonight,” Alec insists, not wanting to be the reason Magnus cuts the night short. But Magnus has a curious look in his eyes when he replies, “Oh, don’t think you’ve gotten out of dancing, Alexander.” Magnus winks and him and Alec follows curiously until they’ve disappeared far enough off the beaten path for Magnus to conjure a portal. Alec steps through without hesitation - he’ll follow wherever Magnus leads, trusting him explicitly.

They arrive on the roof of the building they’re staying at - along the water, the sky stretching out above them dark and full of stars.

“Hmmm…” Magnus considers, before conjuring up a few choice items: a record player, a drink cart, and several strings of lights that end up strategically placed around the roof, suspended in mid-air around them. The breeze off of the water is better than the stifling humidity of the club.

“Drink?” Magnus offers, hand poised, waiting expectantly.

Alec smiles and shakes his head. “Maybe after. I believe I owe you a dance first.”

Here, alone with Magnus, Alec doesn’t think twice. They move with the music, Alec closing his eyes and giving himself in to the careful touch of his boyfriend, with no eyes on him besides those that are only ever full of acceptance and love. Without the doubt and the pressure to perform, to live up to the standards set around him, Alec flourishes. He thrives in a way he only ever seems to while he’s with Magnus, and wonders why he couldn’t just do this before. They laugh, dance, and drink for hours, soaking up each other’s company in the limited time they have away from their responsibilities back home. Alec wonders how much more he might be capable of experiencing, of truly enjoying, if he stopped getting in his own way. As he and Magnus take the stairs down to their room, stopping every three steps for one to press the other against the wall with a need to be close that just can’t wait, Alec thinks that with Magnus by his side he might finally find out.  

[cake-writes]

Lifeline (Part Two)

Pairings: Rebekah x Reader // eventual Elijah x Reader // eventual Kol x Reader // eventual Klaus x Reader (it’s gonna be a literal train wreck, folks)

Chapter Warnings: Alcohol Abuse / Alcoholism, Mental Health Issues, 18+

Lifeline Master List  //  Spotify Playlist

When you woke the following afternoon, you felt like you’d been hit by a truck. You couldn’t remember a thing from the day before, not where you’d gone, nor what you’d done or even how you’d ended up back in your own bed. Judging by the fresh tracks on your forearm, you’d shot up again. That wasn’t a surprise. It certainly made sense that you couldn’t remember.

The real mystery was how you’d ended up with some random guy’s suit jacket. When you checked the label, you found that it was an Armani. Jesus, the thing was worth more than your rent. Holding it up to your nose, you inhaled, taking in the oddly comforting scent of cologne. The smell unfortunately didn’t spark a single memory, but for the first time in years, you felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest.

You felt hope.

The feeling was short-lived, however, because once night fell, you needed another fix. This time it wasn’t because you were miserable – mentally, anyway – but because your body was a complete wreck. The winter weather certainly didn’t help at all, the cold thoroughly seeping into your bones as you walked along Bourbon Street to your favourite nightclub, The Room, to score. You'd tried to resist the temptation, but predictably you failed.

You’d dressed more appropriately tonight, with a black beanie atop your head and a warm leather jacket wrapped around your body. Some part of you must have recalled that you’d been freezing cold last night. It was a mere scrap of memory compared to the events that must have unfolded, but maybe in time you’d remember more.

A sudden call of your name caught your attention, and you looked over to see your good friend Josh waving at you from across the street. After checking both ways, you crossed over to say hello. It had been a few weeks since you’d seen him last, but that wasn’t really unusual. He liked to party just as much as you did.

“How are things?” you asked him with a grin, holding out your hand for a fist bump.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” He bumped your fist with his, and then you both made an exploding motion paired with some ridiculous sound effects like you always did. Laughing at how stupid you both were, he added, “Hey, you seem good. Ish.”

You shrugged, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Yeah, things are looking up for me. I must've gotten some last night.”

Josh gave you a mock-surprised expression. “Oh? Do tell.”

You shook your head, smiling, and held out your crooked elbow to him. You’d both been heading in the same direction, so it made sense to walk together. “You know I’d give you all the dirty details if I could remember.”

He snorted, linking his arm in yours as you started to walk. “Wish I could say I don’t get it, but, well, you know me.”

That was when you remembered the expensive suit jacket you’d forgotten at home, the only link to your activities the night before, and you mentally cursed. You’d been planning to pawn it tonight for some extra cash. Oh well, you could just do it tomorrow. Now that Josh was here, you knew he'd cover you for the evening and to further satisfy his curiosity, you offered him the only detail you knew about your mysterious would-be lover: “He wears a suit. Armani. It’s weird, right?”

“Definitely weird,” Josh agreed. “Not your type at all.” Even weirder was the fact that some guy who could afford Armani would be interested in you, the junkie that you were, but neither you nor Josh touched on that. Instead, he ventured, “What are your plans for tonight? The Room?”

You frowned. “Am I that obvious?”

He knew as well as you did that The Room was one of the best places in town to get a fix, and he gave you a look – the look. It was Josh’s signature judgemental look that you absolutely despised. “You’re kind of… fidgety.”

Josh’s observation caught you off-guard. You hadn’t realised it at all. A quick look down at yourself confirmed that your fingers weren’t in your pockets anymore, but toying absently with the zipper of your jacket.

“I’m doing okay,” you reassured him, sticking your hands back into your pockets. “Just jonesing a little.”

“You’ve gotta stop with that shit. Just drink yourself to death like I do.”

“I would,” you mused thoughtfully, “Except I’m broke, and alcohol is even more expensive than my, uh... hobby.”

“But safer,” he reminded you. “Not a whole lot, but still. I worry.”

“I’m fine,” you told him again, a bit more defensively this time, and you winced at how harshly it came out. Maybe he was right, that you did need to stop. The Room was just up ahead, now, so you suggested, “Buy me a drink and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Josh rolled his eyes as you entered the nightclub together. He'd heard your promises before.

This time, however, you actually meant it.

A few hours passed and you were absolutely trashed. Whatever plans Josh must have had – if any – had disappeared in favour of partying with you like old times. You both drank so much that anything else just went down like water, and thankfully it distracted you from your next fix.

Now it was around three in the morning, and the two of you were stumbling down Bourbon Street again. Upon leaving The Room, you’d first been considering a pub crawl, but you were both pretty wasted so instead you went to a nearby park to cool off.

“Hey,” Josh slurred, flopping down on a park bench. “Why do you do it?”

You half-stumbled, half-fell down into the empty spot next to him, and somehow your head came to rest in his lap. You peered up at him suspiciously. “Do what?”

“Shoot up.” When he felt you stiffen, he asked lightly, “Isn’t this fun enough?”

Feeling defensive, you pulled up your sleeve to show him the red welts on your arm. “What, this doesn’t look fun to you?”

Josh frowned at your tone, eyeing the marks for a moment before he gave you a concerned look. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Sure, it does." You dropped your arms back onto your stomach. “But the rush… It’s so good, Josh. It makes me feel alive.”

Josh studied your face for another moment before he shrugged. “Okay. Your funeral.”

"Ha, maybe.”

A couple of minutes passed in silence as you both looked up at the dark sky. The moon was still so full and bright, and the stars glimmered beautifully. It was unfortunate that thick, fluffy clouds obscured a large portion of them tonight; it looked like it might rain. You hated the rain.

“Wanna see something cool?”

At Josh's sudden question, your eyes shifted from the moon to his face, and your brows furrowed when he bit into his wrist. “What are you—”

Then he pushed his wrist against your mouth, and you couldn’t help but cough down a couple mouthfuls of his blood, unable to push him away. He was too strong, not quite the Josh you knew.

In an instant, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and your entire body began to flush and tingle. When he pulled his wrist away, you sputtered angrily, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “What the hell was that?”  

He gave you a sheepish grin and nodded to your arm. “Look.”

You watched as the red marks on your forearm began to slowly heal, and then they faded into nothing, leaving clear, unblemished skin behind. First, you rubbed your eyes blearily, thinking that you might have been hallucinating; but when your arm stayed fully healed you realised that it wasn’t a hallucination.

That was when you shot straight up off of the bench, screeching, “What the fuck, Josh?”

“Surprise,” he said, holding his hands up defensively, like you were about to hit him.

Predictably, you shoved him hard in the chest, slamming him into the backrest of the bench as you hissed, “When were you turned?”

“When—holy shit, you know?”

Crossing your arms, you let out an irritated sigh. “It’s kind of hard not to know when you’ve got witchy friends in the Quarter. They're all basically under house arrest, thanks to your kind.”

"Yeah, no, that's got nothing to do with me." At your skeptical look, he added, "Promise.”

You eyed him for another moment, and when you decided that he was being honest, you slowly, hesitantly took a seat next to him again. Your body was tense as you sat yourself on the edge of the bench, this time, ready to run at a moment's notice.  

"Things were already pretty bad by the time I was…" He paused and shook his head. "It's been pretty lonely, you know? I miss the sunlight."

"No wonder you're so pale," you teased. When he gave you a sad smile, you bumped his shoulder with yours. "Some of them can go out during the day, right? So why don't you?"

"They've all got daylight rings. Gotta be high up on the food chain to get one."

You made a soft sound of acknowledgement, before a drop of rain landed on your cheek.

"Of course it's raining," you grumbled, getting back onto your feet. Well, this conversation had been enlightening - and sobering. Another drop landed on your forehead, and you offered Josh your hand. "I'll see what I can do."

When he took your hand, you pulled him up. He held onto your hand for a moment longer than necessary, and gave you a wary look. "Be careful, okay? Don't get yourself killed."

You grinned. "Hey, you know me."

Josh grimaced, slinging a casual arm around your shoulders as the pair of you left the park and took cover under a shop awning. That was the problem – he did know you, and you were anything but careful.

[regdaran]

The Day Hell Came to Earth. Chapter one: The Shift.

Chapters: | 1 |  |       

Carth had always thought Joan was the laziest of the group, But skipping out on the first day of the new semester was an entirely new level of slacker. The bus pulled into place along the sidewalk. The three of them all boarded and waved their student passes at the driver. Of course Dominic and Hiela had to come along with him. The second he asked Hiela to take extra notes for class, she had grown suspicious. Hiela then in turn asked Dominic to take extra notes for their shared classes, this brought him into the ever continuing domino line. All of which led here, to the three of them trying to find Joan through his cell signal, finding he had boarded a bus at 6:30 in the damn morning, and then the three of them boarding a bus at 8:00 going the same direction.

"And you're sure that he's still right there?"  Dominic poked at Hiela's phone, the display flickering and cutting in and out.

"HEY! Watch what your doing! Ah! What did you do to my phone? Did you break it?"   Hiela was shaking her phone, despite knowing full well that wouldn't stabilize the screen.

"It's not just yours, mines on the fritz too."   Carth picked up his phone and showed the static that was displayed on the screen. All of their phones had been acting strangely for the last few days. According to the message boards on campus, it was caused by some error in the last big software update.

"To answer your question Dominic, I'm not sure. All I know is thats where his phone was the last two times I pinged it."  Hiela was a savant when it came to tech but with their phones problems effectively running interference, she was limited in what she could do. Honestly Carth was amazed that her phone was working at all.

     "What is he even doing at a construction site?"  asked Dominic as he adjusted his coat so he could sit down. The thing was a tall as he was, with so many pockets inside he could hold half his room in there. "I don't know."  Replied Hiela as she straightened her back pack. They weren't going to make it to class today, why in the world did she bring it? "Did he get a job or something? Why didn't he tell us?"  Dominic kept asking question after question. All of which were answered by "I don't know."  or "Why don't you ask HIM that when we get there?"  Carth could feel the rising irritation from the small woman next to him. He decided to intervene before Hiela killed Dominic. "Let's just focus on what we know for sure. We know he asked me to take note for him yesterday, so he had to have planned this. Aside from that, what do we know?"  Carth looked around at his friends, he really hoped that they weren't as clueless as he was. "I heard..." Dominic said. "That place is haunted. Actually, I think Joan is the one who told me about it."  Now that was lead. "He kept sayin somethin' about demons, or maybe it was monsters. Ya know, urban legends and stuff."  Both Carth and Hiela let out a pair of long, suffering sighs. All three of them had dealt with Joan's little obsession before. "What kind of fun does he find in chasing down these rumors anyway?"  

      The bus bounced as it hit something. There was a 'pop' and the driver was having to work hard to make sure that bus didn't tip over. The sound of metal scraping on asphalt was deafening. "HOLD ON!"  the driver yelled as the bus went into the sidewalk. The sound of rending metal and splintering plastics could be heard as it ground into the concrete next to the road. The bus ever so slowly came to a stop halfway off the road. "Shit! Is everyone okay?"  Dominic helped Carth get back to his feet. "What did we hit? A bear trap?"  Hiela dusted herself off and stepped out of the bus. "There she goes again. Come on Dominic."  The pair of friends followed Hiela out of the beached wreck that was once a bus. "Oh God!"  What they saw was horrific, a red smear led from  the bus to a lump of meat and bones. It was about the size of large dog and it was covered in bony protrusions. Carth was walking over to it before he knew what was going on.

"I-Is it dead?"  he heard Dominic ask.

     "I don't know, but I plan to find out. Hiela, call animal control. If this thi-"  Carth didn't finish his sentence for one very important reason. The thing that they hit had started to move. It got up and started to limp toward the bus. It looked even worse moving, like the love child of the chupacabra and a hyena. It was covered in a wrinkly mottled red hide. It was also almost completely bald, except for a stripe of brown fur down the middle of its head. That same head had twin horns pointing Carth. It's eyes fixed on him, and it started charging. "Oh CRAP!"  Halfway through it's charge. Its front legs gave out and it crashed into the ground in front of him. Dominic and Hiela came running beside Carth. Dominic reached into his coat and pulled out a knife of all things. The blade was nearly half a foot long, and one edge was serrated. Just as the thing was getting up again, there was a loud BANG, and its head caved in as the bullet passed through it. Everyone looked behind them to see the bus driver, still holding a handgun. "What? It was obviously rabid, just don't tell the cops that I had this thing alright. I'm getting out of here. They don't pay me enough to deal with crazy animals."  With that the driver and the few other people who were in the bus all walked toward the small building that served as a bus stop.

     "What the hell is this thing?"  Carth was crouched next to the dog like thing. "I don't know, but man is it nasty."  Dominic was poking at its side with his knife. "Are we going to talk about the fact you pulled out a weapon from your coat?"  Hiela was about 5 feet away from the pair of idiots who were messing with the monstrous thing. "Do you mean to tell me, that in that massive bag you take everywhere, you don't carry anything to defend yourself with?"  Dominic sounded absolutely confused. "Well, I have pepper spray."   Hiela said indignantly. Both Carth and Dominic looked at her in a way that said 'really?'. "Carth isn't carrying anything!"  In response Carth reached into his boots and pulled out a pair of 3 inch blades. "You were saying?" Hiela looked away out of embarrassment, she saw the people from the buss sitting down at the stop. "We should probably go, having to wait around for hours answering the police wouldn't be the most productive use of out time." That was something Carth definitely agreed with.  "Hiela, how far away are we from Joan?"  This time she was the one giving a look. "Wha- Oh. You can't be- Fine!"  Carth couldn't believe she was being a stickler on this! "How far are we from his phone?"  Hiela pulled out her phone and started swiping through one of the apps she had on it. "According to this ping, we are about a mile away... guess we should start walking..."  

      20 minutes and a lot of complaining from Dominic later, they arrived at the construction site. A concrete building, nearly four stories high, loomed before the group. There was trash all over the place as they entered. Old bottles of every shape, size, and color, were strewn about. Some had been smashed and sharp glass littered the floor in many places. There were signs that people had been living here, bed rolls and cardboard boxes were gathered in various corners on the first floor. Despite the lack of work done on the inside, the building was nearly finished. Though, the work of years had given the place a worn down feeling. "Hey Carth, why was this place abandoned again? It looks like solid construction, hell it's better than half the stuff on campus."  Carth set down the red stained cloth he had picked up. "I don't know, but I heard it was something about public outrage at where it was being built. I think the city council tore down a church or something to build this place."  Hiela rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a flashlight. Shining it at the two of them, she said. "Are you guys going to spout trivia all day, or are we going to find Joan? Come on, my phone says his phone is up."  With that she made for the stair well. When she opened the door, she was greeted by pile of bones high enough to mostly block the stairs. There where femers, tibia, hips, and skulls. All of which Carth recognised from his Anatomy classes. They were all human bones. There was a long silence before "Jesus Christ!"  came out of Dominic, who then singed the holy cross on his body. "Nope."  Hiela closed the door, turned around, and started for the fire escape that sat on the out side of the building. "Nope. Nu uh. Not today."  She climbed out the broken window next to the stairwell and then reached for the chain that connected to the pull ladder. Carth and Dominic joined her shortly, "Having a bit of trouble there shortstop?"  Hiela hatted being reminded of her height, or lack there of, And both Carth and Dominic knew it. The attempt at a joke seemed to highlight the horror of what they had just seen, instead of distracting from it. Then Dominic, in all his 6 feet of glory, pulled the chain and ladder down with one hand.

   The three of them were climbing the ladders and stairs that comprised the fire escape when they heard a blood curdling scream. Suddenly the whole building shook as an earthquake hit the area. A blast of lightning hit the roof of the building just as they were reaching the top of the final ladder. When any of them could see again, what they saw would stick with them for the rest of their lives. There was tear in the air, light was bending around the edge of it and a red barren landscape could be seen through it. They also saw Joan, holding a long bone dagger. Said dagger was also sticking out of the skull of someone belt over an object on the other side of the roof.

"What the HELL IS GOING ON!"  Yelled Dominic once again.

Joan turned around. "Oh crap! I can explain later. Right now I need your help killing this guy."  

[thegoronman-blog]

The Island

Hey Tumblr, I’m mostly up in here to post about writing and other stuff I make. My big thing is writing, and it’s something I’ve always had an eye for. 

My first  creation here is an odd prompt we had for creative writing I go off of with the name of the Island. We drew straws from a hat and got three things to work with, and a location. I got a poleaxe, a pickle, and some bones for some guy on an island surrounded by an electric fence that nobody could get past. 

I was taking physics that year, and our teacher had done a demonstration about how pickles could conduct electricity, so I used that, I hope you enjoy. 

I woke with a start. I screamed in my mind and then out loud. All i could see for miles around was fog. Where the hell was I!? I forgot to breathe and clutched my chest. I thought to myself for a moment. What happened last night?

Oh right

I said that i’d go for one drink.

Well regardless, I was on a island in the middle of nowhere with nothing but zombie smoke to look me in the eye. I began to wonder when the fog would clear. Stress was cascading through my arms now, and I realized where I was. The ground around me was all dirt, no grass. There were boulders and other stones complimented by trees that appeared to rise infinitely into the sky. Moss grew on these rocks, and the dirt was so moist and fertile that you could toss a flower seed onto the ground and it would grow naturally within days. I thought to myself again. Where was I? The landmarks I had were christmas trees, boulders, and grassless soil. I had to be somewhere up north, because nowhere else is there fog and big trees all at once. I decided to run for a while. Who knew where I really was? The edge of the island would surely tell me, there could be land, or people outside of it. I was starting to get my hopes up, when after about an hour of running or so I met the edge of the island. Or rather the edge of the island met me, as a massive wave leapt out of the water almost to hi-five me as I soon realized that the island I was on was elevated by a tall cliff face that was victim to crashing waves slurping away its rocky face. The fog on the island began to clear around the edges and it became easier to see, a luxury I desperately needed because that fog was incredibly thick. I stare out at the skyline. There was nothing at all for miles. I screamed to myself. I then cried for about five minutes as I soon realized that I had to have been all alone in this place. After I got myself back together, I took to both of my feet and turned into the forest. I could see my breathing, which was such a strange phenomenon to me because back home it was never cold enough for this kind of condition. I started feeling cold though, and I desperately needed warmth.

It was late into the morning when my hangover began to end a little bit and it became somewhat easier to think to myself. I had made a fire out of a few sticks lucky for me, because nothing on this damn island was dry except for the few sticks i found hiding under rocks. I thought to myself. If most of the world was charted, then how come I had never really heard of this place? I had read my fair share of maps, and never really heard of any pacific northwestern islands that were so far away from anything that you couldn’t see land off of it. I felt the chain around my neck grow cold. I ripped my necklace off and stared at it. It had been a gift from my soccer teacher when I was young. She had always reminded me to kick with the inside of my foot instead of the toe for the least amount of pain when punting it. She had always looked out for me adequately, a little more than the other boys during practice in fact. Whenever I cut my legs from sliding too hard on the grass, she would always patch me up herself before directing the rest of practice. It was some of the only maternal affection I had ever had. Mother had died when I was little and

A twig snapped.

The necklace fell from my hand as I rose to meet the sound. I shouted some gibberish at the top of my lungs and nothing replied. I turned around. Nothing there. But I felt called by the forest to move deeper into its bowels. I walked slowly and cautiously. It sounded like there was some strange kind of mongolian singing going on as I went. Then there it was, hanging from a tree and sticking out like a sore thumb, it was a massive bone that obviously belonged to the ribcage of some massive, dead thing. I went forwards softly stepping as I went. More bones began to appear as I stepped through the colossal forest, that seemed to deepen with every movement I took. Some of the bones were strewn about in the ground, some were stuck in the trees. Often they were suspended by ropes and grappling hooks. The singing in my mind grew continually louder as I reached its loudest point. The skull of some huge dead animal. By the soft contours on its surface, and the texture and shape of its teeth, I assumed it was a whale. Below it, a box. I knelt down to the box, wooden, with a tiny metal lock to guard whatever assuredly valuable treasure it held within. I picked it up, and opened it. The chanting stopped abruptly and my face was greeted with... a pickle. I laughed to myself, thinking that there was no way someone set up all of this and left only a pickle behind. And what was with the chanting from before? Was it only my mind? Or something making noise. I looked all around the monument and found nothing. Trippy. Must’ve been something to do with my hangover. I guessed it wasn’t over.

Early into the afternoon I got bored and started chucking rocks out to sea. One was big and heavy, and sunk just as well. One was light and curved, and made a small attempt to float on the surface before sinking right below. Finally, there was a smooth stone with perfect mass and ideal surface area that I chuckled as well as I could into the now tranquil sea. It skipped gloriously, one time, then two times, then three, four, five, six, and it would have made seven if not for the gigantic invisible electric fence that stood out where the open sea would begin. I scratched my head. Why is there an invisible electric fence, a pickle guarded by whale bones, and all in the pacific northwest. Some crazy person must be making my story or something. I threw a few more rocks at the fence to assure myself that I wasn’t hallucinating the electric spark that I had seen just before. I was right, there was most certainly some kind of invisible wall before me.

The day grew into a dark one, and I grew tired of the island. I needed a way off. But there was a huge fence blocking my exit, and no way to bring it down. I stared at the pickle that I had received earlier. It had a surprising amount of vinegar in it. I didn’t try it, though, I hated pickles. I hatched an idea. The huge whalebones I had seen before were all strung up. I could probably use the string to put the bones together and create a raft of some whalebone. But there was one issue, I had no way to get the string down from the tops of the trees. All had seemed lost.

I slept believing that I would die on the island.

I had a dream that it was a sunday, and that dad was making his world-famous pancakes for me before baseball practice. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a tradition, and traditions aren’t ruined by anyone but people who hate fun. At least, that’s how I saw it. The light of the morning shone behind my dad as he wiped sweat from his brow and picked me up with both arms. He would always look me in the eyes and say “You’re my son,” to himself. Nothing was better than hearing those words.

As I realized that I was laying on the incredibly fertile soil of the pacific northwest, I also found that my cheeks had been streaked by water, as if I had been crying. There was no way that could have happened, I told myself, as I rose to my feet by command of my stomach. It was breakfast time.

I was ripping through the corpse of a particularly fat squirrel I had found when i noticed something. There was an axe stuck in a tree nearby. As I got closer to it, I realized it wasn’t any old axe, but a poleaxe, rather. It had a spearhead, a weight on one end to balance it out, and an axe head on the other, that was filled with plenty of small knicks. The thing could do me well. It could even cut down the strings that held my whale bone. “AHA!”, I shouted, a lone man in the forest half naked and chewing on the innards of some dead and decaying thing.

The sun hit my forehead as my plan flew into action. The straps holding the whalebones had turned out to be quite sturdy, and it took all the force I could muster to cut them down. Rather hastily, I put my raft together, fastening the string into carvings I made into different ends of the bones, and making planks out of the flattened bones I had found. I did so until it looked seaworthy. It actually looked pretty cool all things considered. As for the poleaxe I had, i could use it as a paddle or, the far superior option, an oar. I also took a spare whalebone and both of those would be my way out. Using the incredible versatility of my poleaxe, I carved some wood bits into U shapes and tied them to the boat with all the strength I could muster. It was time to leave, but not before getting one thing. The pickle.

Staring out at the skyline, I knew that my raft had to suffice in my getaway. I stood, poleaxe and whalebone in both hands. I took my pickle in my hand and threw the whole vinegary mess up in the air. It was suspended for just a moment. I had one shot at this. I took my poleaxe and swung it on the hammer side as hard as I could. I was standing in a stadium as the announcer screamed “AND ITS GOING HOME”. I heard a whole crowd of parents angsty to go home cheering me on for giving them a reason to go. The game was sealed. There would be no more struggle for us.  My pickle made it to the electric fence and found itself stuck to a branch on the wall. Electricity rushed to the especially salty and vinegary pickle and I watched for what seemed like an eternity before the pickle was glowing a stunning bright orange, and blew a hole in the fence large enough for me to get through, thank god. Having overloaded the electric fence, I was now safe to bypass the electric water. Putting both of my sticks into my raft, I lept in and prayed to the lord that it would stay in one piece on my way down. Again, with incredible luck, it remained so. I breathed an incredible long sigh of relief, and rowed my boat eastward, into the infinite horizon, and whatever land beyond that might have awaited me.

[phirephox666]

Weekly Fic Recs - BNHA

This is gonna be an experiment in, you know, actually doing something with my disaster of a blog. So! Weekly Fic Recs. Because I read, and have read, a fuckton of fic, and I like sharing. These are all BNHA and Bakugou-centric.

Weekly Rec Lists - More BNHA Recs

Beyond You and I by IvoryCrow 

Bakugou/Midoriya, Bakugou & Midoriya, Bakugou & Kirishima, Bakusquad, WIP, 8.5k

He has always known that Izuku Midoriya will undeniably become the best hero of their time. There was no amount of bullying he could ever inflict upon him to change that. But he never realized that this fate was strongly dependent on the existence of Katsuki Bakugou.

(In which Katsuki was born with a second, more subtle quirk.)

Honestly just a really interesting premise. I love the idea of secondary or subtle quirks and this is a neat execution of the idea. I like the interpretation of Bakugou in this, and I appreciate the focus on the friendships, not just the romance. I’m really enjoying this fic so far. 

More Than One Hero by verymerrysioux

Bakugou & Midoriya, Bakugou & Kirishima, Bakugou & Shinsou, Midoriya & Kirishima, Midoriya & Shinsou, Kirishima & Shinsou, Friendship/Gen, Crossover/Fusion, Reincarnation AU, WIP, 31k

Bakugou Katsuki is an odd child, quiet and unassuming at first glance. One wouldn’t think he’d have the makings of a hero. The people who actually know him say otherwise.

His parents will say he collects a lot of odd things, likes to make too many unnecessary explosions (quirk or not), and can be so quiet that people won’t know he’s there. His childhood friend will say he’s a little weird, switches from polite speech to swears-a-lot at the drop of a hat, and has the habit of giving things away as much as he collects them. His classmates and teachers in U.A will say he’s too nosy for his own good, rummages through all the pots in the campus way too much, and is often unfazed by anything thrown his way. No matter how bizarre it may be.

Regardless, they all think he’ll be a great hero.

The most ridiculous, wonderful thing. This fic is hilarious and amazing and such a strange concept. But it works! Fun and interesting and wildly weird. There’s also some really well done serious moments. The entire fic feels very organic and well done. Poor All Might, though, he’s not prepared for any of this nonsense. 

Slow to Start (But Quick to Burn) by mousapelli

Kirishima/Bakugou, A/b/o Dynamics, Complete, 29k

Bakugou is loud, abrasive, and way too strong to be a “good” omega, and he doesn’t give half a damn if that’s what everybody else thinks. The good news is that Kirishima is 100% into him just the way he is. The bad news is he might be 150% into Kirishima

I enjoy A/b/o and I really enjoy this sort of trope subversion. A really good build between Kirishima and Bakugou into a relationship. Not a bad integration of A/b/o into the Bnha universe, without just slapping Alpha/Omega labels on everyone and calling it good. 

believe in me, believe in you by gold_rush

Bakugou & Todoroki, Bakugou & Midoriya, Friendship/Gen, Complete, 4.6k

Katsuki accidentally sees evidence of Todoroki’s abuse and he is FURIOUS.

Should probably be subtitled “Bakugou Katsuki wants to drop kick Endeavor in the face”. Has some of my favorite stuff in it, protective Bakugou and Parental Aizawa. Also, some really solid Bakugou and Midoriya interaction. 

Put the Meat on My Bones by wonduhwoman

Bakugou/Midoriya/Uraraka, Bakugou & Shinsou, Bakugou & Kirishima, Bakugou & Todoroki, Aged Up Midoriya & Uraraka, WIP,  42k

“Dude,” Kirishima said, “How much did he tip you?”

Katsuki glanced down at his hand clutching the money, “Two-hundred bucks.”

Sero whistled low.

“What’s this?” Yaoyorozu asked, stealing the slip of paper off the bar before Katsuki could protest. She unfolded it, eyes widening, “He gave you his number, Bakugou! He even drew a winky face next to it!”

The consequences of Midoriya and Bakugou not growing up and going to UA together. Well executed AU, and some really great characterization all around. I love the friendships between Bakugou and Shinsou, but also the friendships between Bakugou and class 1A. Very solid writing, and just a very enjoyable fic so far. 

Adventures with Bakugou by SatyrSyd37

Bakugou & Class 1A, Gen/Friendship, WIP, 21k

Class 1-A learns a lot from Bakugou, and Bakugou learns a lot from them.

‘Field trips with Zuko’ style adventures with Bakugou and each of the 1-A kiddos.

I just enjoy this concept immensely. Bakugou and 1A growing and learning together. Also, a little bit of exploration of some of the characters that don’t get as much screen-time in canon is always welcome. 

Exception by saruma_aki

Bakugou-centric, Bakugou & Kirishima, Bakugou/Kirishima, Complete, 4.8k

Bakugou knew that certain things Kirishima would never personally agree with, just like the same applied for Bakugou in regards to Kirishima. But it was why they worked together so well.

Kirishima never hesitated to call Bakugou out on shit, and Bakugou always returned the favor. They engaged in their own personal sort of system of checks and balances, keeping each other in line, providing a unique sort of support.

They were each other’s best friend.

I really, really appreciate fics that deal with the fact that chaining up a fifteen year old in front of millions of people is a terrible idea and probably traumatizing. The fact that it was done by teachers that are supposed to be trusted authority figures is just… a thousand times worse. An excellent look at some of that. 

the world you keep erasing by Slumber

Bakugou/Kirishima, Bakugou & Midoriya, Soulmate AU, Platonic Soulmates,  Complete, 4.2k

Katsuki doesn’t remember a world without color.

He fucking hates it.

The soulmate AU where you can’t see colors before you meet your soulmate. Nice trope subversion and platonic soulmate bits. 

Valentine’s day chocolate is (not) overrated by Poteto

Bakugou/Kirishima, Bakusquad, Fluff, Complete, 5.2k

Bakugou thinks Valentine’s day is a bullshit holiday for bullshit people that spend money on useless sweets. However, if Kirishima wants chocolate that bad…

Super fluffy, super sweet, and super cute. Some really great Bakusquad interaction as well. I like the characterization of a slightly older Bakugou as well. 

Damned Chat-Fic by ooopo123

Bakusquad OT5, Iida/Midoriya/Todoroki, Chat Fic, WIP, 12.8k

5cent Pikachu: Okay! Now that we’re all assembled!

Jacked Up: Tell this Pokemon kin that Mother Mother is better than Of Monsters and Men

5cent Pikachu: N O — A class 1-A chat-fic that’s mostly Baku-Squad centric! Featuring a polyamorous Baku-Squad and other LGBT characters!

Bakusquad OT5 with super sweet interactions between them. Some really, really good class 1A interactions as well. I enjoy the backstories for the different characters. 

What Goes Around by AnglophilicSins

Bakugou & Class 1A, Bakugou-centric Ace Bakugou, WIP, 12k

Five times Bakugou Katsuki looked after his classmates and one time his classmates looked after him.

intertwined by crunchrapsupreme

Bakugou/Kirishima, NSFW, Complete, 6.4k

Kirishima asks Bakugou out in the beginning of April.

– (a study of kiribaku through the seasons)

Stray Bullet by AnonymousTwit

Bakugou & Midoriya, Bakugou & Kirishima, Bakugou & Class 1A, Bakugou-centric, Parental Aizawa, Parental All Might, Complete, 13k

Pushing through the crowd of students, the first thing he noticed was blood on the table. As he grew closer, he caught a small glimpse of Midoriya, his shoulders shaking so violently that they could cause an earthquake and eyes carrying so many emotions that it was absolutely dizzying.

Or

In which there’s a sniper attack at U.A. and Bakugou decides to do something selfless for once.

Bakugou is just a super-cool character and I love fics that focus on that. He has the potential to be a really great hero. Also, I just love him. 

come and fly away with me by wonduhwoman

Bakugou/Uraraka, Bakugou & Kirishima, A/b/o dynamics, Complete, 3k

Katsuki is an omega and he doesn’t give a fuck.

Ochako is an alpha and all she wants is to get on his level.

He can respect that.

Part One of they say dreamers never die

can you see the fire in these eyes by wonduhwoman

Bakugou/Uraraka, Bakugou & Midoriya, Bakugou & Midoriya & Uraraka, A/b/o dynamics, Complete, 5.8k

Was it really so impossible for everyone to get along?

Yes. Yes it was.

But in the end, even Katsuki agreed that omegas should stick together.

Part Two of they say dreamers never die

laugh all the way to hell by wonduhwoman

Bakugou/Uraraka, Bakugou & Todoroki, Bakugou & Midoriya, Bakugou & Midoriya & Uraraka & Todoroki, Bakugou & Kirishima, Complete, 8k

Katsuki would never admit it to anyone, but being in a pack with Ochako and Deku was actually kind of…fun.

There was just one two-toned, socially inept problem.

Part Three of they say dreamers never die

A Fleeting Smile by AnonymousTwit

Bakusquad, Bakugou & Class 1A, Families of Choice, Friendship/Gen, WIP, 5.7k

Or a collection of fifteen Bakusquad drabbles where someone outside of the Bakusquad catches a rare glimpse of a friendlier side of Bakugou Katsuki, and one time that is specifically reserved for the four people that he hates the least.

I love this fic more and more each chapter. 

Don’t want to lose, don’t want to cry, just want to keep laughing by darkinsanity13

Bakugou & Kaminari, Friendship/Gen, Fluff, Complete, 2.3k

Kaminari just wants to know what makes Bakugou laugh.

So cute, the cutest, I love it to bunches. 

Like Crystals, They Reflect Light by AniPendragon

Bakugou/Kirishima, Bakugou & Midoriya, Bakugou & Ashido, Fluff, Friendship/Gen, Complete, 3.6k

With Christmas right around the corner, Bakugou wonders if now is the time to tell Kirishima how he feels. He’s never been good at dramatic timing, but everyone confesses during the holidays in the movies, so it should work, right?

He’s never been a coward, but fuck if this isn’t terrifying. You can’t exactly punch your feelings, after all.

Just, I adore this fic so much. The Midoriya and Bakugou interactions in this are utterly and completely perfect. The Bakugou and Ashido friendship is sweet as all get out. And Bakugou and Kirishima are adorable. 

[david-lynch-ate-my-son]

Kastle College Professors AU Chapter 5--THE END

(A/N: WHoops, I lied. There will be an epilogue. Also this is 18+)

READ ON AO3 HERE

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Epilogue

“Okay, so explain to me again exactly what happened last night—because I’m still a little bit confused here.” Trish was staring at Karen over the rim of her martini, her eyes narrowed in that determined look she got when she was trying to crack a lead. Like there was no escaping her questioning.

“I’ve told you every detail five times now,” Karen groaned, barely resisting the urge to let her head drop to the table with a thud. Instead, she occupied her hands stirring the straw round and round her vodka cranberry, watching the wedge of lime she’d thrown in swirl about. “We talked, there was tension, I thought he was going to—I don’t know—kiss me or something, and then he had to leave. What’s there to be confused about?”

“If the ‘tension’ was as sexually-charged as you say it was, then I’m confused about how on earth Frank could have just walked away from you like that?” Trish used a toothpick to stab the olive in her drink, waving it about for emphasis. “I mean, come on. He’s only human. And you’re you.” She gestured at Karen with the olive, and a few drops of martini went flying.

“Well, like I said, he—”

“Oh my god,” Karen was interrupted by a loud and impatient groan from Jessica Jones, who was sagging in her chair looking painfully disinterested. “When you invited me to go for a drink, I thought we’d actually have fun. Not sit around all night dissecting the play-by-play of Karen’s almost kiss.” She ran a hand down her tired face. “I feel like I’m at a sleepover and we’re about to pull out a game of Dream Phone. Kill me now.”

“Come on, Jess. How can you not be interested in this? It’s like a real-life romantic drama. All the pining and the tension and the ‘will-they-won’t-they.’” Trish smacked her friend on the arm, which earned her a scowl. “It’s sweet.”

“I’d be more interested if they’d actually boned last night,” Jessica tilted her head to the side, considering. “I’d actually sit through a play-by-play of that.”

“Oh Jesus,” Karen shook her head, then let it fall into her hands. “Why did I think getting Jess involved in this would be a good idea?”

Karen and Jessica had met a few weeks ago, when Jess had swung by Trish’s office to pick her up for drinks. They usually met up at the bar, seeing as Jess hated setting foot on the university campus, with its air of smothering pretention, but Trish had been running late. Karen had been there helping her sort through the intricacies of writing an IRB proposal, and ended up tagging along for their “girl’s night.” Jessica had been a little wary at first, as she didn’t have the best track record with making girlfriends, but Karen had been surprisingly easy to get along with. They had struck up a friendship, which Jess had already used to her advantage, mining some of Karen’s journalism contacts for a case she’d been working on involving a congressman and a callgirl. Sitting across from each other at a shabby table in a low-rent bar, it felt like they’d been friends for ages, rather than weeks.

“Jess, you can’t just say ‘bone’!” Trish looked aghast. “It makes you sound like a thirteen year old boy.” Jess rolled her eyes at that, taking a loud, defiant slurp from her Jack and Coke. “Though, I guess imagining Frank and Karen having sex is pretty hot.” Trish amended, pursing her lips in thought.

“I am regretting this so much,” Karen just knew she was blushing beat red, and scrubbed her hands over her face in an attempt to hide it.

“What?! It’s true,” Trish tossed her hair over her shoulder and rested her cheek on her palm. “He’s so big and muscular and masculine. I mean, that jaw. And those hands, my god. And you—” she used her free hand to gesture at Karen, who had slumped down in her seat in embarrassment.  “I mean, you’re basically the universal ideal of beauty. The two of you together would be explosive.”

“Okay, keep it in your pants there, Walker. It looks like you’re about to give Page a heart attack,” Jessica lifted her icy glass and pressed it against Karen’s forehead. She jumped at the freezing contact, and was surprised to realize just how hot she’d become.

“Ugh, I can’t help it!” Trish shook her head, running a finger around the rim of her martini glass. “I haven’t seen any action in months, and I’m forced to live vicariously through your thing with Frank.”

Karen was suddenly glad that the bar they had been sitting in for the last few hours was nearly-deserted, because Trish was reaching that point of inebriation where volume control became a real issue. But the grizzled, old man nursing a G&T by the pool tables didn’t seem to mind, and neither did the girl in the back corner who had been chain smoking and reading what looked like Catcher in the Rye.

“You want to talk about sexual frustration?” Jessica took a long gulp of her drink, downing it completely before slamming the glass onto the table. “Then I’m your girl. Haven’t gotten laid since Luke got together with that nurse he’s been seeing.”

“Jesus, that was like five months ago!” Trish made a face, raising her hand to let the bored-looking barback know that their table was ready for another round. “How have you survived that long?”

Karen cringed inwardly—she hadn’t had sex in over a year. She decided to keep that fact to herself.

“Oh, y’know,” Jess shrugged with a dark little smile. “Making use of the goodies in my nightstand. Eating too much junk food. Drinking.” Her next round of Jack and Coke came just in time, and she took a long sip for emphasis.

“Some real healthy coping mechanisms there, Jones.” Karen shook her head, nudging Jessica’s leg under the table with her own.

“Oreos and whiskey haven’t let me down yet,” Jess lifted her glass in a salute. “So I’m gonna stick with ‘em.”

“Man,” Trish sighed deeply, “I haven’t found a good substitute for sex.” She dipped her finger in the remnants of her martini, dragging it along the edge of the glass until it sang. “You know, the hardest part of being sexually-frustrated is missing the intimacy. Just wanting to be held. Not even the sex, really, but being so close to somebody, y’know?”

“Nope.” Jess shook her head.

“Yeah,” Karen ran a hand through her hair, nodding.

“See, Karen gets me,” Trish threw a wadded-up napkin at Jess, who let it hit her forehead and roll away.

And it was true—Karen did get it. Which was strange, because she’d never been the kind of person who was preoccupied with sex—who fantasized and got swept up in desire. It had been a long time since her last relationship, and she didn’t go in for one night stands, which left her sorely lacking in the “getting laid” department. But the shortage of sex had never really bothered her all that much; she was a busy woman, and had no problem filling her day in ways that took her mind off of her self-imposed celibacy.

At least, she had no problem before she met Frank. Since walking into the office that first day and seeing him behind his desk—glasses perched on his nose, hair blown askew from the windy afternoon, looking downright edible in a dress shirt rolled up to the elbow—her imagination had slowly become a fucking Danielle Steele novel.

She couldn’t help it. Over the past four months, she’d found herself slipping into Frank-themed fantasies more and more often. They had started off innocently enough—little daydreams about Frank as a brawny, daring sailor in his cable-knit sweaters, poised on the bow of a fishing boat, wind in his hair. Or the week he’d been too busy to shave, she’d imagined him as a lumberjack—chopping wood with his torso bare, all that muscular, tanned flesh dotted in sweat. It was ridiculous, really; her little trips of the imagination had her feeling like a teenager again. She hadn’t let herself slip into those kinds of girlish fancies since her days of having a crush on Taylor Hanson. But she figured that, given a little time, her over-active imagination would tire of Frank and move on.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it), those daydreams only increased in frequency. And slowly grew into something a little more…titillating. Images of his long, rough fingers stroking her body; his lips running down the column of her neck; the stubble on that sharp jaw scratching along the insides of her thighs. It was almost embarrassing, how often she caught herself drifting off into a lurid daydream while Frank was bent over his filing cabinet to look for an answer key, or rearranging the books on his shelf for maximum efficiency. Her favorite daydream, by far, involved him sweeping all of his color-coded binders off his desk and making her head go fuzzy. She felt a little guilty for her fantasies, sure, but not terribly so. She was, after all, only human, and Frank was unfairly handsome.

The strangest turn of events, however, had occurred when the nature of her little daydreams started changing again. Into something that left her feeling melty and warm inside. Images of the two of them lying in bed together, his warm arms around her, her head against his chest, listening to the thud of his heartbeat; waking up in the morning to see him drinking coffee on her sofa and grading exams; staying up all night, her head on his lap, arguing about critical theory.

It had snuck up on her—the way her desire for him had grown into something deeper. She found herself wanting him in all the soft, warm, little ways that one person could want another. His breath on her neck; the roughness of his palm against her own; the softness in his eyes. Wanted him around in the quiet moments, in between breaths, when the touch of another can mean the difference between loneliness and home.

And that was big. That was a profound kind of need—deep and abiding. Karen was afraid that she couldn’t will it away by overloading her schedule or keeping herself busy.

So yeah, she understood what Trish meant about how overwhelming the desire for closeness could be. How it could make your bones ache.

“You two are pathetic.” Jess, on the other hand, did not seem to have any great need for emotional intimacy. “Life is so much easier if you can learn to just have sex without all that other stuff involved. Just scratch an itch.”

“’Boning’? ‘Scratch an itch’?” Karen raised a brow at Jess. “You missed your calling as a Hallmark card writer.”

“Or a poet,” Trish piped up.

“She puts John Donne to shame.”

“Oh for sure.”

“Off with that girdle, like heaven’s zone glistering,” Karen began to recite, posing with her arm raised like an actor in a Shakespearean drama. “But a far fairer world encompassing. Unpin that spangled breastplate, which you wear, that th’eyes of busy fools may be stopped there: Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime. Tells me from you that it’s boning time.”

Trish burst into a bout of uncontrollable giggles, while Jess held her hands up, unashamed. “What?! It does sound better that way!” She protested, grinning. “More people would read your weird, old, dead person poems if they talked about boning.”

“Sad thing is, I think you’re right,” Karen lamented, shaking her head.

“Of course I’m right,” Jess pretended to pop the collar of her black leather jacket. “Sex sells.”

“So I’ve been told,” Karen snorted, thinking about the conversation she’d had with Foggy at the faculty mixer all those months ago. That thought, of course, led her to remembering how unbelievably attractive Frank had looked that evening in his faded grey sweater (the one that was just the right size to hug the sturdy curve of his shoulders). And just like that, Karen was thinking about Frank again.

Trish noticed the expression on Karen’s face change, as subtly as it did, into something that looked an awful lot like longing.

“Pining for Frank again?” Trish placed a sympathetic hand on Karen’s wrist.

“Yeah,” Karen sighed. “I feel like my brain is a broken fucking record. I just keep replaying last night and wishing it had turned out differently, y’know? That I’d had the courage to tell him how I felt, or that he’d made a move. Something to let me know he’s interested.”

“Come on,” Jess rolled her eyes at Karen. “I’ve only been half-listening to this whole conversation, and even I can tell that he’s interested in you. Don’t play stupid.”

“I’m not,” Karen crossed her arms defensively. “I’m just feeling a little insecure about this whole thing. I haven’t felt like this about someone in a long time, and it’s got me off my game.”

“I get that,” Trish nodded. “But you got take your mind off of it or you’ll drive yourself crazy. It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, and even if it doesn’t, there’s always alcohol.” Jess raised her glass.

Strangely enough, that actually made Karen feel better. Not that there’d always be alcohol to lean on, but that she’d always have friends like Jess and Trish to turn to when things got rough.

           By the time Monday rolled around, Karen had done a lot of thinking about the Frank situation. Too much thinking, probably, as she had a tendency to dwell far too long on things she couldn’t do much about. In fact, she’d lost a great deal of sleep over the weekend, tossing and turning—sometimes lying awake and replaying that evening in the office with Frank, and other times twisting in the sheets with dreams of his hands and his lips and his voice. She’d woken up Monday morning exhausted, but all of the thinking had helped her to gain some clarity.

She’d decided that she wasn’t crazy—there had definitely been a fair amount of sexual tension in that room Friday night, and not just from her end, either. She had seen the shudder of attraction in Frank’s eyes—the way they lingered on her a touch passed what was decent—the magnetic pull of his gaze along her flesh. So at least she knew that Frank was attracted to her, on some level. There was, of course, the looming possibility that the attraction was only physical—she didn’t know, she’d have to figure that out eventually.

She had also decided, over the course of her weekend of agonizing, that she couldn’t hold it against him that he hadn’t acted on said tension. His best friend had needed him, after all. Frank wouldn’t be the man she was stupidly in love with if he hadn’t immediately dropped everything to help a friend in need.

And while she hadn’t managed to make good on her promise to tell him that she was in love with him (what else was new?), she did have more confidence that he had feelings for her, too. Whatever the nature of those feelings might be.

As she walked into the office, actually on time for once, Karen had to remind herself to breathe steadily. She had started to grow nervous, on her walk to work, about seeing Frank. Not because she was afraid it would be uncomfortable around him, but because she was a little bit apprehensive about how well he could read her. She was half-convinced, on some level, that he might take one look at her and know that she’d spent the last two nights tangled up in her sheets, sweaty and alone, dreaming about all the wonderful ways their Friday night could have ended.

 Frank, on his end, had also spent the past few days consumed with thoughts of their almost-encounter. Thoughts that mostly went something like, “why the fuck am I friends with David?” and “what would I have even said if he hadn’t interrupted?” After the initial—and bitter—disappointment that his moment had been so unceremoniously ruined by Lieberman, Frank started to realize that it actually might have been a good thing. Because he really didn’t know what he had planned on saying to Karen. And he didn’t want to fuck it up. Not with her.

It may have taken Frank a while to realize that he was in love, but once the realization had hit, it hit hard. Frank was not a man who did things by half-measures; he was an all-or-nothing kind of guy. And falling in love with Karen felt like it; felt like the last great thing he would ever do.

He’d started to think, after Maria, that he’d never get to experience that feeling again. The way that love takes everything you think you are, all that you think defines you—your triumphs and your fears and your pain and your happiness—and shows you that you are more than those things. You are part of something bigger than yourself; something huge and consuming and inexorable. That you were not meant to carry the burden of your own humanness—with all its beauty and suffering—alone. But rather, you are a shape perfect for holding.

He’d thought that feeling was out of reach.

But then Karen had come along, and god, if she didn’t cut him to the core with all that nervous energy and those thoughtful eyes. Reminded him what it was like to lose yourself in dreams of someone else.

He’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Karen over the weekend that even Maria had noticed, pulling him aside on Sunday evening to ask him what was going on. All he’d had to do was mention Karen’s name, and Maria got that knowing gleam in her eye. The one that used to drive him crazy.

“Ah, so you realized you’re in love with her, huh?”

Frank had groaned—had everyone known but him?

“Bring her around next weekend, okay? I want to meet her.” Maria had patted a comforting hand on his arm before being called away by Lisa, who was trying on a new baseball uniform.

With Maria onboard, it was serious. So he was determined not to fuck things up with a half-baked, impromptu confession. He was going to do things properly. But how, exactly, he was going to go about it was the question of the moment.

And that’s exactly what he had been thinking about when Karen Page walked through the door on Monday morning (Frank had to double check his watch, because she was actually on time). He noticed immediately the buzz of anxious energy that seemed the follow her into the room. She was muttering something to herself under her breath, too quietly for Frank to hear.

“You, uh—” Frank swiveled around in his chair to track Karen’s movement across the office, “you talking to yourself there, Page?”

“Jesus Christ!” Karen jumped in surprise, clutching her chest. “Scared me to death. I didn’t see you behind your monitor.” She could barely hear her own voice over the wild thudding of her heart.

“You okay?” Frank’s brow furrowed as he took in Karen’s appearance. Though she was as impeccably-dressed as always, wearing a navy sweater dress that did marvelous things to her figure, there were deep purple bruises under her eyes. Like she hadn’t slept in a few nights. And there was that nervous little tilt to her mouth, like she was trying to stop herself from chewing her bottom lip, and only barely succeeding.

“Yeah,” Karen sighed, dropping her briefcase on the floor and falling onto the loveseat with a groan. “Just had a rough weekend. Couldn’t turn my brain off for even a few seconds, y’know?”

Frank hummed and understanding little noise. He definitely knew.

“I woke up feeling like I hadn’t even slept. Like my head’s full of little buzzing creatures.” She propped her feet up on the coffee table and Frank had to suppress the belly laugh that threatened to burst out.

“Is that why, uh—” Frank gesture toward Karen’s feet, “Why you’re wearing two different shoes there?”

“I—” Karen looked down at her feet in shock, her brows knitting together in confusion, as though seeing them for the first time. “God damnit!” She owned two pairs of suede ankle boots, absolutely identical, save for the fact that one pair was brown while the other was black. In her rush to leave that morning—her mind preoccupied with other, Frank-shaped thoughts—she’d grabbed one of both.

“I think it’s quite the look,” Frank smirked as Karen slumped further down on the loveseat, throwing an arm over her face. “You might even start a fad, Page.”

“Jesus Christ,” she groaned. “Can we pretend, just for a few seconds, that I’m a functioning human being?”

“It’ll be hard, but we can try.” Frank bit his thumb to keep the stupid grin from overtaking his face. “Want some coffee?” He’d poured a cup for himself on the way in, stopping by the faculty break room to get his morning fix. But Karen looked like she could use it more than he did at the moment.

“Yes, please.” Her voice was muffled by the arm she was still hiding under.

Frank grabbed his untouched mug of coffee and walked it over to the loveseat. He kneeled down next to Karen, who refused to uncover her face, and instead reached out blindly for the mug with her free arm, almost smacking Frank upside the head in the process.

“Okay,” he dodged another attempt for the coffee, chuckling. “I think you’re going to have to come out of hiding if you want your caffeine fix, sweetheart.”

“But I’m obviously not capable of existing in the real world today.” Despite her protestation, Karen let her arm drop with a sigh, reaching for the mug with both hands. Her fingers lingered a little longer than strictly necessary on Frank’s own, and she had to suppress a shiver at the touch. God dammit, but the smallest touch from him got a reaction out of her.

Frank watched her take her first sip, noting the initial grimace (Frank took his coffee black, while Karen was a sugar fiend), which eventually faded into a hum of satisfaction. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, they had lost their bitingly-nervous edge.

“World looks better after some coffee, huh?” Frank asked, smiling softly. Karen may have been having a rough morning, but his was going great—it always did, the second she walked into the room.

“Mmhmm,” Karen nodded, watching Frank over the rim of the mug. They were awfully close, what with him squatting down next to her lap, his hand steadying himself on the couch cushion mere inches away from her thigh. It reminded her of their position last Friday night, which set off a series of minor explosions in her chest. “Even if it tastes like motor oil the way you make it.” Karen joked, trying to cover up the prickle of awareness that was beginning the crawl its way up her spine.

“You’ve tasted motor oil before?” Frank shifted his hand on the couch, and the tip of his thumb lightly brushed her thigh, right where the hem of her dress ended. Karen had to exert an inhuman amount of self-control to keep from squirming.

“Haven’t you?” She teased, keeping her voice casual.

“You know, that explains so much about you, Page.” Frank couldn’t hide the blatant affection on his face, and Karen felt her pulse spike.

She was contemplating sliding one of her hands from her mug to rest over his own, when a loud beeping emanated from Frank’s computer.

He frowned, looking over his shoulder. It was the alert he’d set to go off every time he received an email marked “Urgent” from the university admin. In the 7 years he’d been working as a professor, it had only gone off twice: once when the president of the college passed away unexpectedly, and once when an armed robber fleeing from the cops decided to hide out in the library.

“That’s weird,” he muttered under his breath, pushing himself up to check his email. Karen’s eyes followed lazily as he rounded his desk to lean over the monitor. The blue light of the screen lit his face, and she watched with growing interest while his expression morphed from confusion to shock to something that looked an awful lot like glee.

“Holy shit, Kare,” his voice was excited. “You gotta read this.” He gestured toward her in a ‘come here’ motion, never taking his eyes off the screen. She placed her mug on the coffee table and made her way over, planting a hand on his desk to lean over his shoulder.

It was silent for a moment, as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Then:

“Oh fuck.” It was a curse, but it was spoken with a kind of joy that Karen should have probably felt guilty about.

“The Great Dr. Danny Rand, revealed as a fraud. Jesus,” Frank shook his head, and Karen had to bring a hand up to her mouth to keep the giddy laughter from spilling out.

           It has recently come to the administration’s attention that Dr. Daniel Rand, of the School of Media Journalism, has been accused of falsifying data.

           Four years ago, Danny had gained some measure of fame for a study he’d published about the dissemination of underground, revolutionary materials in North Korea, and their effect on stirring up resistance among rural citizens. The crux of his research had rested on a riveting account of espionage and revolution, as told by a former citizen of the DPRK, who purported to be directly involved in the Kim administration.

           A former citizen who was now coming forward as a fraud, the email read. He was, apparently, not even Korean, but rather a Chinese student Danny had met during a research trip to Hong Kong. He had completely fabricated the story, with Danny’s help, in exchange for assistance in attaining a green card to the U.S.

           In light of this new information, Dr. Daniel Rand has chosen to tender his resignation, and will no longer be affiliated with the work being conducted at this university.

“Is it wrong for me to celebrate right now?” Karen spoke around her fingers, which were still pressed to her mouth.

“I think the occasion calls for it.” Frank smiled over his shoulder at Karen, who was looking shell-shocked in the best way.

“I just feel so vindicated,” she pumped her fist in the air for emphasis. “Maybe the universe is just, after all.”

“And now you can get your research project back.” Frank straightened so that he was no longer leaning over the desk, and turned to face Karen, who was bouncing up and down on the toes of her feet.

“Oh my God,” she ran a hand through her hair. “I hadn’t even thought about that. I was just imagining the media firestorm he’s gonna come under when this thing blows up.”

“They’re going to crucify him. Especially because it’s a little racist to try to pass off a Chinese man as Korean.”

“Ooh, I didn’t think about that either,” Karen rubbed her hands together in delight. “This is going to be amazing.”

Suddenly, Karen’s phone began dinging manically, several texts coming in all at once. She jogged over to her briefcase to see what was going on.

“Oh my god,” she laughed. “Foggy and Trish and some of my other grad students are all texting me congratulations.” She thumbed through her messages as they kept filtering in. “It feels like Christmas morning.”

“I didn’t know Santa did revenge. Never got it in my stocking.” Frank shoved his hands in his pockets, watching Karen grin at her phone. She really did look like a child on Christmas.

“Probably because you were never a good little boy,” Karen quickly typed back a response to Foggy.

“I was good enough.”

“Good enough doesn’t get your enemies destroyed.”

“Clearly.”

Karen snorted, firing off several texts in a row.

“Oh,” she looked up from her phone as she received another text. “Foggy just suggested we go to Josie’s tonight to celebrate. Wanna come?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Even if it is technically in poor taste to drink to the destroyed career of a colleague?” Karen gave a lopsided tilt of the lips.

“I’ve done worse,” Frank lifted a shoulder in a half shrug.

“Which is exactly why Santa never gave you revenge for Christmas,” Karen pointed a finger. “It’s all coming together, Castle.”

Frank was about to speak when the alarm on Karen’s phone went off, alerting her to leave for class.

“Oh, shit,” she glanced down at her phone. “I gotta go. But we’re meeting at Josie’s at 8, okay?” She grabbed her briefcase and threw it over her shoulder. As she made to rush out the door, she impulsively reached out to kiss Frank on the cheek. She couldn’t say exactly why, but it felt right. “I’ll text you later,” she squeezed his arm gently before breezing out of the office, leaving him standing there staring after her like a lovesick fool.

For 8 o’clock on a Monday night, Josie’s was uncommonly packed. Aside from the usual suspects who showed up to start drinking at 4pm on the dot, the bar was playing host to what looked like a roller derby team still decked out in their uniforms, a group of frat guys wearing Chinos and comfort colors, and an assortment of strange characters who seemed to be intent on drinking alone. Karen, Frank, and Trish (who was meeting Foggy for the first time), had barely been able to snag a pool table while Foggy bought the first round of celebratory drinks. They’d toasted to the untimely, but not unappreciated, demise of Danny Rand, before Trish suggested a game of pool (which Foggy jumped to take her up on). Frank and Karen had exchanged a look at that—he’d seemed just a little too eager.

It had only taken ten minutes for Trish’s competitive side to rear its head, which had caught everyone but Karen by surprise. Trish was a woman who did not like to lose. Unfortunately for her, Foggy wasn’t too keen on being defeated himself, and their game had quickly devolved into chaos—but enjoyable chaos.

“Oh my God,” Foggy leaned down to speak into Karen’s ear, chalking up the pool stick in his hands. “How have you not introduced me to Trish before tonight?” He watched in avid fascination as the woman in question bent over the pool table to line up her shot, giving him a perfect view of her assets.

“Uh, because the opportunity just didn’t pop up?” Karen shrugged, taking a sip of her beer. She was currently leaned-up against a tall pub table pressed into the back corner of the bar, where she had been watching Trish and Foggy go at it like professional players, trick shots and all. “You’re not going to be weird about this, are you?” She narrowed her eyes at Foggy in suspicion. The poor guy had a tendency to get really awkward around her attractive, female friends. The stuttery, bad-joke, no hand-eye coordination kind of awkward. It was really quite tragic.

“What, me?” Foggy pressed an offended hand to his chest. “Never been awkward a day in my life.”

“Uh-huh,” Karen darted her eyes down at Foggy’s pants. “Your fly’s undone.”

“Oh shit.” He looked down in surprise, turning around the subtly zip up. “Do you think Trish saw that?”

“Saw what?” Trish suddenly appeared at Karen’s side.

“Uh, how great that last shot you made was,” Foggy attempted to cover up, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Um, of course I saw the shot, Foggy.” Trish darted her eyes to Karen, brow furrowed in confusion. “I was the one that made it.”

“Oh yeah. Of course.” Foggy fidgeted with his pool stick. “I just wanted to make sure you knew that it was a really good shot. So,” he jerkily reached out to pat Trish on the arm, “good job.”

“Thanks?”

“Yeah, just, uh…” Foggy began backing away from the two women, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m gonna go back to the pool table. Plan my next move.”

Trish waited a beat before tilting her head at Karen with a frown.

“Is he okay?” She darted her eyes in Foggy’s direction.

“Right now, or in general?” Karen chuckled, shaking her head.

“You have some weird friends,” Trish sighed, before turning to follow Foggy and finish off their game.

Karen was only alone for a moment before Frank appeared at her elbow, carrying another round of beers for the group.

“I’m telling you, that bar tender always takes way longer getting the drinks for me than he does with you.” He placed the bottles on the table with a clang, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans.

“Well that’s because I actually smile at him. Didn’t anyone ever tell you grimacing gets you nowhere,” Karen gestured at Frank’s face, which was indeed set in a scowl. “Flies and honey and all that?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s less about the smiling and more about you being a good-looking woman,” Frank grumbled, grabbing one of the beers and taking a swig. Karen blushed at the compliment, and felt the warm buzz of it all the way down to her toes.

“I’m pretty sure Craig’s gay, Frank. You’d be more his taste,” she leaned forward, slipping her chin into the palm of her hand.

“Clearly not, or else it wouldn’t have taken 15 minutes to get four beers.” Frank also leaned forward, his elbows on the table.

“Hmm, maybe Craig doesn’t go for your whole ‘rugged, muscular intellectual with a penchant for sweaters’ look,” Karen pursed her lips in thought.

“Is that what I am?” Frank raised a brow. “A ‘rugged, muscular intellectual’?”

Karen felt a blush working its way across her face.

“You forgot the sweaters. It’s all about the sweaters.”

“Of course,” Frank nodded sagely, looking down at the grey cable knit he was wearing (Karen’s favorite, though he had no way of knowing that). There was a loud groan from the direction of the pool table, and he glanced over his shoulder at Trish and Foggy, who were arguing over how far she was allowed to lean over to make a shot before it became a foul. “So Foggy hasn’t run her off yet?”

“Nope, but he’s working on it,” Karen scrunched her nose. “At this rate, she’s going to be heading for the hills in no time at all. Poor guy—he just can’t function around a pretty woman.”

“It’s a miracle he’s been able to keep cool around you for so long.”

Karen bit her lip. It was the second time in the span of two minutes that Frank had called her beautiful—her heart stuttered in her chest.

“You should have seen him the first time he met me. Spilled sangria down my dress at a faculty mixer,” Karen smiled at the memory. “Then, when he tried to get some club soda to help wash it out, he spilled that down himself. I think the only reason he didn’t spontaneously combust in embarrassment was because Matt was there. He has a way of keeping Foggy from going too crazy.”

“Hmm,” Frank scratched the back of his neck, unsure of how to broach the next topic. “Speaking of Matt—haven’t heard you mention him in a while. Things still rough between you two?”

Karen had never gotten around the telling Frank about the nature of her confrontation with Matt in the coffee shop—she had been so upset about the whole thing, she hadn’t really thought to mention what the fight was about in the first place. All he’d managed to gather from her was “Matt is an asshole who thinks he has some kind of say in my life, but he doesn’t” and “God, he’s just a self-righteous prick.” And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious about what had happened between the two of them.

“Uh, yeah.” Karen’s expression took on a strained quality. “Still rough.” She looked down, picking up a napkin and twisting it between her fingers. “I’ve mostly just been avoiding him. Might be time for me to write the whole thing off as over, y’know?” She dropped the napkin and moved on to fidgeting with her beer bottle, peeling the label off with her thumbnail. “I figure if he really cared about our friendship, he’d have found some way to apologize by now. And I think I’m getting to a place where I can finally say ‘no’ to half-assed friends. Just cut ‘em off.”

Frank nodded, aiming for a sympathetic look, which he didn’t quite pull off. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t happy with that particular turn of events—though they’d only met once, Matt had given him a bad feeling.

“You never said what happened between the two of you.” Frank’s eyes were glued to Karen’s restless fingers. “Don’t know if it’s something you want to talk about or not.”

Karen stopped her fidgeting, looking at Frank intently—thoughtfully. She wasn’t sure if she should tell him that their fight had mostly revolved around him; she didn’t want him feeling guilty for causing the rift between her and Matt. But on the other hand, there was really no point in keeping it a secret—what was done was done. And, in the end, the falling out had really been more about Matt’s patronizing self-righteousness than about Frank.

“He just—,” Karen stopped, trying to think of how to phrase what she wanted to say. “He has this way of trying to get involved in my life and kind of tell me what to do that’s absolutely infuriating. He’s always making suggestions and giving me advice about things he has no right to talk about. Overstepping his bounds.”

“Ah,” Frank nodded. “It’s a fool’s mistake, trying to tell you what to do.”

“Damn right.” Karen lifted her beer in a mock toast.

“So, uh, what was it that he said that set you off?”

“Actually,” Karen’s lips quirked slightly, “we were arguing about you.”

“Me?” Frank jolted in surprise, frowning.

“Yeah,” Karen leaned forward, folding her arms on the table. “He was trying to tell me all this bullshit—that you weren’t someone I should be associated with. That you would ruin my reputation. Just a load of garbage. I got upset—asked him what gave him the right to tell me who I should and shouldn’t be associating with. Went downhill from there.”

“So you—” Frank paused, brow furrowed. “You stopped being friends with him because of me?” That idea didn’t sit well with him.

“No, no.” Karen reached out to place a hand on his arm, rubbing her thumb against the outside of his wrist. “The conversation about you was just a symptom of the larger problem, right? I stopped being friends with him because he doesn’t treat me well. He acts like I’m some little girl he needs to protect and look out for—it’s patronizing.” Karen squeezed Frank’s arm, forcing him to look at her. “I’m trying to get better at cutting toxic people out of my life. People who make me feel small. Matt was one of those people.”

Frank nodded, staring at Karen with a contemplative look, as though he were weighing up some odds in his head, to which she wasn’t privy.

“You know,” he looked away, staring at his hands on the table. “Matt was probably right. About you and me.”

It was Karen’s turn to react in surprise. “What?”

“He was right,” Frank looked up again, something dark and heated in his eyes. “You’re too good for me.” Karen opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “Come one, Kare. You’re brilliant and funny and you have this way of setting people at ease. You got a good heart. An open heart. And that’s really rare. You don’t meet people like that every day, and that’s just the goddamn truth. I’m not really sure anyone is good enough for you.”

“I don’t—” Karen started to speak, something like anger crumpling her face.

“No, hey—” Frank reached out and laid a warm hand on Karen’s arm. “Hey. All I’m saying is that I know who I am. And I know what my reputation is, okay? I’m not an idiot. You’re not gonna get invited to rub any elbows by associating with me.”

Karen opened her mouth, still trying to get a word in.

“I’m not done, Kare.” Frank grinned, amused at her adamant attempts to argue the point. “Jesus, did your momma never teach you not to interrupt?” Karen sputtered, before closing her mouth. “Here’s the thing, Page—the thing Matt doesn’t know, right? Is that there’s nothing he, or anybody else, can do or say to make me disappear.”

Karen felt her rigid shoulders go lax. Frank’s hand, still on her arm, felt hot.

“At this point, uh—,” he shifted uneasily, “I’m not sure I could leave you alone if I tried. I think you’re stuck with me.”

Karen’s chest suddenly felt over-full, flooded with an emotion she couldn’t quite name. Something with the distinct flavor of relief, mixed with joy, and a whole tidal wave of affection. Frank was looking at her in this electric kind of way—fierce and burning. His eyes were tight in anticipation, waiting for Karen to respond.

“I—”

“Oh, more beer!” Foggy’s sweaty body collided suddenly into the table, jostling the drinks. Frank stuck out a hand to steady the wobbling bottles. “I need to refuel after that game. Another victory for Clan Nelson.” He grabbed a beer and took a long gulp, seemingly unaware of the thick cord of expectation that hung in the air between Karen and Frank.

“I’m not convinced that last shot was legal,” Trish grumbled, appearing at Foggy’s side, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. She squeezed in next to him, also missing the way that Frank and Karen had been staring at each other, unblinking.

“Is that bitterness I hear in your voice, Walker?” Foggy slammed his bottle on the table, which jolted Karen from her state. Jumping, she turned to look at Foggy, who was pointing at Trish with narrowed eyes. “Let’s go another round and see who’s cheating, huh?”

“Maybe Frank and Karen want a turn, Nelson.” Trish grabbed her own beer, sparing a glance at Karen for the first time since joining the table. She immediately noticed the look on her friend’s face—overwhelmed and a little bit dazed. Darting her eyes in Frank’s direction, she saw him wearing a similar look. Clearly they’d walked into the middle of something. “Or not…”

“Uh,” Karen cleared her throat, beginning to feel a little suffocated by the atmosphere inside the bar, like the she couldn’t breathe.  Air—she needed air. “Actually, I think I’m gonna step outside for a bit, I—”

She didn’t finish her sentence, grabbing her coat and heading for the back door of the bar. Trish and Foggy both stared after her in confusion.

“I’m gonna go make sure she’s good,” Frank grumbled, grabbing his own coat and following closely behind.

Trish and Foggy exchanged a glance as their two friends disappeared out into the night.

“What was that?” Foggy looked genuinely puzled, bless his heart.

“That, my new friend, is inevitability.” Trish grinned.

             The cool night air whipped around Karen’s face as she burst out the back door of Josie’s. It helped to clear some of the heavy fog that had settled in her mind. Her heart was in her throat—thundering.

           “Karen, what—” Frank didn’t have time to get the rest of the question out. He didn’t even have time to close the door behind him. Before he realized what was happening, Karen had launched herself at him, arms around his neck. And then she was kissing him.

           The kiss was tentative—nervous. Frank stood frozen in surprise, not moving, not reacting. His brain hadn’t quite caught up to what was happening to his body. Karen felt her heart sink, and began to pull away.

           “I’m sorry, I—” She started to apologize. Clearly she’d misread the situation. Clearly he didn’t want this. What a royal fuck-up. But she didn’t get the chance to finish her thought.

           It was Frank’s turn to take Karen by surprise, reaching out to slip a hand behind her head and yank her forward, silencing the rest of her apology as his mouth found her own.

And this kiss—this kiss was different. It wasn’t gentle, but with Frank Castle, Karen didn’t expect it to be. There was no breathless anticipation and uncertain brushes of the lips with him. No hesitant little tastes. Rather, he kissed like he was trying to consume her—with a single-minded dedication that made her feel weak. Brutal and hard—teeth nipping and lips devouring. Karen felt that animal part of herself clawing to the surface, as she buried her hands in his hair and tugged him roughly closer—for more.

Frank made a deep, low noise, and snaked an arm around her waist, holding her tight. His other hand tangled in her hair—all that golden, silky hair. He flexed the arm at her waist, and Karen jerked against him in response. Frank let out a moan at the sensation, and Karen shivered as she became acutely every point their bodies touched from chest to thigh.

Her breasts were crushed deliciously against the front of his coat, and the hard feel of him against her had her head going fuzzy. But it was a pleasant kind of static that cleared her mind of everything but Frank, leaving her free to focus on the slide of his tongue against her own, wet and hot, and the grasping of his fingers above the curve of her ass. A keening noise left her throat, and his hips bucked forward—brushing that spot that sent a sharp shoot of arousal up her spine.

“Karen. Jesus,” Frank whispered against her lips quietly, before pulling back to look at her in the streetlight. Her eyes were shining and feverish under heavy lids, and her lips parted and glistening from his kiss. She looked like a woman coming undone. Frank opened his mouth to speak again—he wanted to make her understand this was important to him; that kissing her felt like tasting his future; that this was everything—but he didn’t know how. So instead, he settled for making a frustrated, impatient noise before lowering his head again, trying to put everything he couldn’t say behind his kiss.

Slowly, his tongue swiped against her full bottom lip, leisurely setting the pace. He felt her responsive sigh as she sunk into him again. He wanted to memorize that feeling—of having her melt. She scratched at his scalp, and he responded by nibbling at her lip, teeth sharp and demanding. She gasped gently, and suddenly his tongue was brushing against hers again with exquisite slowness. More gentle this time—exploring.

A soft sound escaped Karen’s throat as her hands fell from his hair, grappling at his back to grab full swathes of his coat in an attempt to get even closer. Frank hadn’t even realized she’d been walking him backwards until his back collided with the wall of Josie’s and he let out a surprised laugh, breaking the kiss.

“Careful, Karen,” Frank’s face was split into a grin, and he pulled her forward to nestle between his parted legs, head thrown back against the wall. “Don’t break me.”

“Don’t think I could if I tried,” Karen was smiling too. It was a different smile than he’d seen her wear before. It was a smile that had an entire universe of private longing inside of it.

“God,” Frank shook his head. “Wanted to kiss you for so long. Too long.” He dipped his head again, this time landing on her neck, opening his mouth to suck at her flesh.

“Fuck,” Karen bit out, tilting her head to give him more access and breathing out hot into the cool night air.

“Say that again,” Frank whispered, before biting at the junction between her neck and her shoulder.

“Ah,” she let out a half-yelp, half-groan at the feeling of his teeth digging into her flesh, “Fuck, Frank.” Her voice sounded breathy in her own ears.

His hands were trailing up and down her sides, brushing the outsides of her breasts before returning to settle on her hips, then making the trail again. The sensation was divine, and she felt her hips roll forward into his own, causing him to grunt out a deep sound.

This was insane, a small part of her brain was thinking. Insane. Just moments ago they had been watching Foggy and Trish play pool, and now she had Frank pressed against the back wall of Josie’s, moaning in her ear and writhing against her.

“Frank,” she said his name again, like a plea, bringing her hands up to tangle in his short hair. “Frank, hold on, I—”

Frank immediately pulled back, the lust in his eyes instantly replaced with concern. Had he done something wrong? Had he misread the signs? No—that couldn’t be it. Karen wouldn’t have been kissing him so goddamn thoroughly if she didn’t want this too.

“No, no, come back,” Karen put her hands behind Frank’s neck, pulling him forward to rest his forehead against her own. “I just—” Karen broke off.

She wanted to tell him that she loved him. She really wanted to tell him that she loved him. But it didn’t feel like the right time—pressed against the back wall of Josie’s, surrounded by cigarette butts and crushed beer cans. So instead, she said what she could.

“I can’t be casual with you, Frank. I can’t do this if this is all it is. I’m not—I’m not walking away from this.” It wasn’t the most eloquent thing to say, but she hoped he understood. He needed to understand.

Frank shook his head, his nose bumping against Karen’s as he did.

“Karen.” He said her name with a mixture of affection and exasperation. “How can you not know?”

“Know what?”

“Nothing with you has ever been casual for me.” This time, when Frank pulled away, Karen let him. She wanted to see his eyes. “You have me.” His stare was single-minded and fervent. “You have me.”

All of the air seemed to leave Karen’s lungs in a single whoosh. The world, she was sure, began to tilt on its axis. Or, at least, her world did.

It wasn’t an “I love you,” but it somehow felt greater than that. More tangible, like something she could hold if she were to just reach out. It was all there—everything—in the gentle way his eyes anchored to her own; in the barely-perceptible trembling of his hands; in the corner of his lips, which couldn’t seem to decide if they wanted to smile or not. He was watching her like there was nothing else in the world more worthy of his attention. Like she was a new color he was seeing for the first time.

“Frank.” His name seemed to float, suspended, in the cold air between them. It was a caress; a benediction; a poem. He’d never heard his name spoken with so much need behind it.

And he was kissing her again. Lightly, gently. Just to feel her.

“I—,” She pulled away, taking a shuddering breath. “I want you to take me home, Frank.”

“Yes ma’am.”

 They didn’t even bother with excuses for Trish and Foggy. Didn’t have the patience for it. Instead, they ran back inside to grab Karen’s purse, threw a half-hearted “see you later” over their shoulders, and were gone. There was no time for waiting—no time for stalling. They’d let this thing burn between them for too long to get caught up in pleasantries.

The car ride to Karen’s apartment was blissfully short. Frank drove fast—too fast, really—his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. (Later, he would look back on that moment and thank god that he hadn’t been pulled over for how egregiously he was speeding). Karen, for her part, could not sit still in her seat. The anticipation had her squirming like a child, until Frank had to shoot her a dark glance, telling her to sit still. He was distracted enough without her writhing about in the passenger seat.

Karen had never taken the steps up to her place so quickly—two at a time. In fact, the entire trip from the car to the apartment was a blur. It wasn’t until the door had closed behind them that time seemed to slow to its normal speed.

Karen had half-expected Frank to pin her to the door as soon as it shut, picking up where they’d left off in the alley way. She’d expected frenzy and passion and desperation.

But there was no frenzy. There was no reckless claiming.

Instead, Frank stepped slowly into Karen’s apartment, looking around at all the familiar little pieces of her scattered about. And then he just stood—in the middle of Karen’s living room—heart pounding.

Standing there, among all of Karen’s possessions—her eclectic collection of books and ceramic knick-knacks—it hit Frank all at once. The enormity of the moment. Of what they were going to do.

Suddenly, against all common sense and rationality, he felt a little shy. No, he thought, not shy. It was something else—the feeling you get when you’re standing on the edge of a balcony, high in the air, thinking about how easy it would be to just lean forward and fall.

This was important. This was Karen.

Frank ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the roaring feeling in his chest.

Karen, who was still standing by the door, barely past the threshold, was watching him in confusion. Waiting for him to do something. It seemed a strange shift in tone, she thought, compared to the heat and want of the alleyway. But clearly Frank needed some time—he was looking a little bit lost. And she was going to give him all the time he needed.

“I’ve never been in your bedroom.” His voice, though quiet, felt huge in her cozy little space.

“It’s the door to your left.” Karen pointed, and Frank turned to look. It was open just a crack, and he could see that she’d left a lamp on inside, as it illuminated a patch of carpet with a yellow glow.

He walked forward unhurriedly, almost cautiously, and pushed the door open fully, stepping inside. Karen waited a beat before following him.

Karen’s room, Frank thought, was perfect; just like he’d imagined. A large bed covered in a pale blue comforter; an entire wall of books (the fantasy branch of her personal collection); a vintage, velvet chair pushed in the corner, next to the window, which he assumed was her reading nook; a thousand assorted tchotchkes she’d picked up from her travels abroad.

Frank walked forward, running his fingers along the spines of her book collection, before turning and picking up the abacus on her night stand.

He was fidgeting, Karen thought with a grin. Like he was nervous—like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

It was strange, seeing him this way. She was used to a confident, smug, overbearing Frank. That she could deal with.

But an uncertain Frank was something else altogether.

She bit her lip, leaning against the door frame as he made his way over to her little desk, plucking at the abandoned knitting she’d left next to her laptop. He absent-mindedly shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over her desk chair.

Karen wanted to give him time—sure—but she was growing a little impatient. She wanted his hands on her, and sooner rather than later. So she’d just have to help him along.

 While his back was still turned to hers, fiddling with the Rubix cube on her desk, Karen brought her hands up to the zipper of her dress. Eyes glued to Frank’s broad back, she slowly dragged it down until the dress fell off her frame and silently onto the floor.

Underneath, she wore nothing but a diaphanous slip—a translucent scrap of thin cotton; she was practically naked. With a shiver, she fought the urge to cover herself. She felt so exposed. But, she supposed, that was the whole point—that was what she wanted—to be utterly exposed before Frank.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she forced her hands down to her sides, balling them in fists to keep from fidgeting nervously, then spoke.

“Frank?”

“Hmmm?” He responded, still facing away from her.

“Frank,” this time it wasn’t a question—it was a demand. Karen saw his back stiffen almost imperceptibly at the tone of her voice. A new kind of awareness flooding his body—had his pulse spiking.

He turned around to face her, his questioning look melting away to something else entirely when he saw her state of undress. She felt his eyes burning hot as they trailed up and down her body, stopping to take in her pink nipples, puckered and straining against the fabric. In the moonlight that filtered through the window, she looked like a goddamn angel.

Frank’s devoured her, but he didn’t take a solitary step forward, still standing the entire length of the room away. He’d never seen anything so fucking beautiful in his life. Dangerously beautiful—like a man could lose his mind just looking at her standing there, wanting. His body felt rooted to the spot, his gaze licking up and down her curves in unhidden appreciation. But he was nervous—he was actually fucking nervous. This thing between them felt huge—felt inevitable—and it was a little scary.

Karen’s brow creased in a frown.

“Frank. A girl’s going to start to feel a little self-conscious if you don’t come over here and touch her.” Karen tried for playful, but her voice was a touch too strained. Pulled tight with the tension of arousal (and just a touch of self-doubt). It was that anxious hitch that set Frank moving toward her.

“Goddamn.” He was across the room in seconds, his hands reaching for Karen’s face. If she were less focused on that thundering look in his eyes, she might have noticed the way his fingers were trembling softly.

“That’s better,” she mumbled quietly, leaning her cheek into the warmth of his palm.

“You are…” He broke off, letting his eyes trail down her body again, brushing her cheeks back and forth with his thumbs. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” Frank licked his lips. “Got me feeling like a teenaged boy over here.” He managed something akin to a chuckle.

“From where I’m standing, you don’t look like a teenaged boy,” Karen whispered, bringing her hands up to grab onto the lapels of the jacket he was still wearing. “You look like a man who wants to fuck me.”

“Shit, Kare.” Frank made a strangled noise. “You can’t say stuff like that if you want me to go slow with you.”

“Sorry,” Karen smiled, looking not at all apologetic.

Leisurely, Frank’s hands began to drift down from her cheeks, moving to ghost gently down her neck, his fingers leaving little trails of heat in their wake. He fiddled with the neckline of her shift for a moment before letting his hands drift down further.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so beautiful,” he spoke breathily, moving to cup her breasts in his large hands. She inhaled sharply at the feel of his palms pressed against her nipples, the sensation of his rough skin through thin fabric. “Like a wet dream,” he mumbled, and Karen would have teased him for the comparison, but suddenly his fingers were brushing over her nipples intently, and she moaned obscenely, feeling herself grow wet at the touch. How had she never realized how sensitive her nipples were?

“You like that.” There was a smile in Frank’s voice, and he stepped forward slightly so that his front barely grazed Karen’s, her senses sharpening at every point his body made contact with her own. “That’s good to know.”

He moved his left hand behind her back, pulling her body fully against his own, and with his right hand he began to gently roll and pinch her nipple between his fingers.

“Ah—Frank,” his name came out as a gasp from Karen’s lips, and her back arched involuntarily, pressing her breasts up toward him as an offering.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He lowered his head to her neck, opening his mouth to latch onto a spot near her collar bone, and she lost all her words. His mouth was so hot and wet against her skin, teeth brushing and nibbling at her in harmony with the movement of his fingers. Bite—tug—lick—roll. It was like some choreographed dance he was leading her body in.

As she pressed herself more firmly against Frank’s solid frame, his left hand wandered down the small of Karen’s back to cup her ass. His fingers trailed the cleft of her cheeks, dipping in to separate them slightly through the cotton of her panties, and she let out a choked moan.

“Mmm, that sound is perfect,” Frank mumbled against her neck. “Make that sound again,” he nipped sharply at a spot under her ear, just as he tweaked her nipple and let his left hand dip between her cheeks, dangerously close to her near-soaking core.

“Ah!” Karen moaned again, her hips jolting forward in search of some kind of relief. Frank grunted as her bucking hips found his own. He pulled her forward by her ass so that both of her legs straddled one of his—his muscular thigh nestled between them. He ground himself against her for a moment—sweet friction rubbing her just where she needed it.

Frank was already impossibly hard and straining against his jeans, and neither he nor Karen were technically undressed yet.

“Fuck—need to slow down,” Frank whispered against the skin on Karen’s neck, breath hot and wet, before taking a step back from her and untangling their legs. She whimpered at the loss of contact and Frank grinned, self-satisfied. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this, but I think I’m wearing too much,” he spoke with a grin, pulling off his sweater and moving to unbutton the shirt he wore underneath.

“No—let me,” Karen stepped forward, stilling his hands as they moved from button to button. Slowly, letting her fingers brush lightly against Frank’s overheated skin, Karen parted his shirt and revealed his chest. He was all sharp lines and bunched muscle beneath, as she knew he would be. The hard planes of his chest were delectable, covered in such warm, tanned skin. She couldn’t help but lick her lips involuntarily when the shirt fell to the ground, and she caught her first glimpse of the deep V of muscle leading into his jeans. How badly she wanted to trace that V with her tongue and follow it to its conclusion.

Frank, who had watched her appraising glance, and the trail of her pink tongue swiping along her bottom lip, groaned quietly. “You’re killing me, Karen.”

She glanced up and him with a wicked grin.

“This is 2018, Castle; the men don’t get to have all the fun,” she tutted, before lowering her head and attaching her lips to the long column of Frank’s throat, maintaining eye contact as best she could. At the shaky noise he made, she continued dragging her lips from his throat to his chest, letting her hands explore his muscular back all the while. His breath shuddered as she nibbled and licked a trail down his sternum. She pulled away from his skin slightly, and paused with uncertainty, before lowering her lips to lave the flat of her tongue against his right nipple.

“Karen,” Frank gasped, jerking in surprise. But her name quickly dissolved into a deep, satisfied noise.

“Mmm,” she mumbled in reply, circling his nipple again and again, before dropping a kiss onto his left one. “Seems you like having you nipples played with too,” she grinned up at him.

“We’ve always had a lot in common, huh?” Frank laughed, a little breathless.

“Hmm,” she agreed, lowering her lips to his chest once again. Slowly, she sunk down to her knees, dragging her nails down his back as she did so. He threw his head back and muttered “Jesus” as she settled between his spread legs.

Karen nuzzled her nose at the line of wiry hair trailing from his belly button into his jeans, sighing contentedly. With her hands scratching gently at the dip of his lower back, she licked along the trail of hair. It was rough, but pleasurable on her tongue. From her position, she could see Frank’s cock twitch in his pants as she repeated the motion.

“Karen, you have to get off your knees if you want to make it to the bed,” Frank’s voice was shaky and full of arousal as he spoke above her. She tilted her head back to make eye contact with him as she swiped her tongue across his happy trail again, defiant.

“Alright,” he huffed, before reaching down and hauling her up by her shoulders until they were face-to-face again. “That’s enough teasing from you.”

“You don’t like my teasing?” Karen asked with a smirk.

“Oh no,” Frank shook his head, trailing his hands from her shoulders to her hands, grabbing them with rough palms. “Like your teasing too much—that’s the problem.”

With her hands in his, Frank started slowly walking himself backwards, dragging Karen along with him, until he was able to collapse back into the red, velvet chair in the corner. He yanked her forward until she was sitting, straddling his lap.

Gazing up at her, eyes drinking in her every feature as though he were memorizing them, Frank spoke. “I’ve waited so fucking long for you, Kare. So let me take this slowly. I need to take this slowly.”

Her eyes softened tenderly, and she nodded. Cupping Frank’s chin in both hands, she tilted his head up a notch, bringing her forehead down to bump gently against his own. “Whatever you need. I’ve waited a long time for you, too. Just touch me.” Karen rolled her hips forward, and Frank felt his vision go white.

“That’s not taking it slow, Kare.” The words came out breathy and wrecked.

“Fine, fine.” Karen shifted her hips so they weren’t pressed to roughly against his lap. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” Frank pulled away from her grasp and dragged his gaze up and down her body contemplatively. He lifted his hands and tugged at the straps holding her shift in place. In one swift motion, it fell to pool in her lap, leaving her utterly exposed.  “That’s a very dangerous thing to promise a man.”

“I like to live dangerously,” Karen whispered, bringing her lips to his in a devouring kiss. It was sloppy and wet—teeth clashing and tongues sliding over one another—and it was perfect. Frank’s hands rose to cup her breasts, and she found her hips sliding back forward, grinding along his in time with the swipe of his thumbs over her pebbled nipples.

The room was silent save for the sounds of their passion—heavy breathing and choked moans, the gasp of each other’s names.  Karen’s hands drifted down Frank’s toned chest, stopping to tug lightly on his dark chest hair before grabbing ahold of his belt and pulling sharply up. His hips jerked towards her own in response, hitting the bundle of nerves between her lower lips and sending her back arching, wrenching a cry from her lips.

“I love the noises you make,” Frank ground out, voice deep and rumbly. Karen noticed that he spoke in the gruffest tone when he was aroused. “Want you to make noises for me all night, Karen.”

She ground her hips down on his own again, hitting the same sweet spot, and moaned.

“Yes. Just like that. Just like that, sweetheart,” Frank breathed in her ear. While he played with her breast in his left hand, his right hand slowly found its way down her body, slipping beneath the pooled shift resting atop her thighs. Before she could clear her mind enough to see where Frank’s hand was leading him, he dipped his and into her panties and swiped one long finger along her core, making her gasp.

“Shit, Kare, so wet already.” Frank buried his head in her neck to mumble, letting his finger trail along her seam again, gathering her wetness. “Let me make you feel good.” He pressed his wet finger against her clit, and she felt her mind go blank.

“Frank,” his name on her lips was a sigh, a prayer, a blessing. “Oh God, Frank.”

He continued to swirl his finger, round and round her clit until she couldn’t take it anymore—head thrown back, hands scrambling for purchase and clutching at any part of him she could reach. Karen ground her hips down onto his hand, trying to both increase the pressure and feel his own arousal beneath her. Just when she was about to reach her peak—fall over the edge—he stopped. Karen let out a long, frustrated cry.

“Fuck. Frank. Why’d you stop?” She was panting and trying to grind her hips forward to bring back the delicious friction. Frank brought his hands to her waist to arrest her movements, nudging at her chin with his face until she opened her eyes and met his own.

“Because, Karen, when you come, I want to be inside of you,” his voice was gravelly and strained with wanting.

His words shot a deep bolt of pleasure straight to her core, sending another rush of wetness onto her thighs. This man would be the death of her.

In one swift motion, without giving her the time to catch her breath or gain her footing, Frank stood up, with Karen’s legs wrapped around his waist, and practically tossed her onto the bed. She let out a surprised laugh, bouncing on the mattress before settling among the pillows and covers. Frank smiled at her giddiness, leaning forward to press his fists into the bed.

“Glad your mattress is so comfortable—we’re going to be here for a long time,” his grin was carnal; he slowly trailed his eyes down her body as he spoke. “Take that off,” he demanded, nodding his head at Karen’s shift.

As she grabbed the scrap of cloth that was still pooled around her waist, and yanked it—and her underwear—off. Frank moved his own hands to his jeans, slowly unbuckling his belt and pulling off what remained of his clothes.

And suddenly, he was perfectly naked before Karen. She forgot her own nudity for a moment, eyes roving over the exposed spans of his skin, starving for him. His thighs were thick with muscle, and covered in short, dark hairs; his abdomen was defined and tensed in anticipation, muscles begging to be felt and licked and enjoyed. She took in the breadth of his shoulders, and if she tilted her head slightly, from her position she could just make out the round curve of his ass. Finally, she followed the direction of his V-cut down to its destination—his arousal stood proudly from a thatch of dark hair, long, thick, and pink, swollen and glistening at the tip.

Karen felt her legs spread slightly, involuntarily, at the sight, and had never felt more wanton in her life. Frank noticed the movement, and a devilish look crossed his face.

“You want me, Karen?” He asked, taking a step forward to place his knees against the mattress, resting his hands against his thighs. She nodded, reaching out to grab at him desperately.

“Not yet,” Frank quickly grabbed her hands before they could make contact with his chest, leaning over her to press her wrists into the mattress above her head. “Keep them here.” He pinned her with a demanding stare, before leaning away from her and pulling himself up fully to kneel on the bed between her spread legs. “I want to take care you. Can I do that, Karen?” He asked.

Karen nodded her head adamantly.

“I’ve wanted you like this for too long,” Frank whispered, leaning forward until his lips were millimeters from touching the skin of her lower stomach. “Better than my imagination.”

“Frank. God.” Karen’s voice was needy, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed. “I like a little delayed gratification as much as the next girl, but can you please do something already.”

“Yes ma’am” Frank smiled, moving the last few millimeters to press an open-mouthed kiss against her stomach, right above her pubic bone.

Instantly, Karen’s back arched off the bed, and she brought a hand down to tangle in Frank’s hair.

 And suddenly, the warmth of his mouth was gone.

“Kare,” Frank chastised, reaching up to remove her hand from his hair. “You start touching me and I’m gonna lose my concentration.” He returned her arm to its position above her head. “In fact…” he paused, looking around for a moment. “Can you grab onto the headboard? Keep your hands occupied.” Karen nodded, and he lifted her under the hips, scooting her up the bed until she could wrap her hands around the wrought iron bars of the head board. “You gonna be okay there?”

“Yes,” Karen breathe out, inexplicably turned on by this turn of events.

“Good.”

And with that, Frank returned to kissing her stomach, licking and nibbling at her soft skin. She bit back a moan, turning her head to the side and burying it in her upper arm. His tongue dipped into her belly button, and her hips bucked up into his chest.

“Your skin is so soft,” Frank whispered against her skin. “Smooth.” He lowered his head further, bypassing Karen’s aching core, and latched his lips onto the top of her inner right thigh. It was torture—exquisite torture.

Karen hadn’t know how sensitive her thighs could be, as she found herself biting back sighs at his kisses. Her hands flexed and clenched at the headboard as Frank continued to languorously lick at her inner thighs, switching from one leg to another, pausing each time to let the heat of his breath hit her where she needed him most. The scrape of his teeth on her inner legs almost sent her careening over the edge. Karen didn’t even realize that she’d slowly been opening her legs wider and wider, obscenely, in a desperate effort to get his mouth where she wanted it.

Frank stopped suddenly, pulling back to look up the expanse of Karen’s body and admire his work—her chest and cheeks were flushed red, her back was arched in the air, her head was thrown back against the pillows. She looked like a woman thoroughly-fucked, and he hadn’t even entered her yet.

“You’re killing me, Frank.” Karen sounded strained. Tense and out of breath.

“Sorry.” Frank didn’t sound at all sorry, as he let his right hand wander down to lazily stroke at his erection, which looked almost painful. “Didn’t think a little foreplay would break you.” There was a teasing lilt to his voice, and Karen would have responded to it snarkily, had she not been so frantically needing. “Where do you want me, Karen?” He asked, his eyes flitting down to her exposed core.

“Jesus, Frank. Do you have to ask?” Karen answered, half-exasperated, eyes still glued to his hand as it worked its way up and down his shaft, his thumb gathering the wetness that had beaded at the tip.

“How do you want me?” he amended the question, squeezing himself harder under her gaze.

“I want—” Karen could hardly think—could hardly decide how she wanted the man in front of her. All she knew was that she did. “I want your mouth on me. I want you to lick me.” The words falling from her lips sounded filthy, and Frank groaned loudly, stroking himself on last time, before removing his hand, leaning over, and resuming his position between her legs.

“Was hoping you’d say that,” he whispered, before finally licking a hot line down her slit.

Karen was sure her neighbors could hear her responsive cry, but she didn’t care. His mouth was open and hot and frantically lapping at her, his hands winding their way behind her bottom, tilting it up to give him better access.

His mouth was making love to her—that was the only way to describe it—sucking and licking wildly. He had to grip her ass tightly to keep her from bucking up into his mouth. The room was filled with obscene slurping sounds, which only served to heighten Karen’s arousal even more. When Frank began moaning, the vibrations against her intimate flesh almost had her coming undone right there.

His tongue was pure magic, swirling round and round—then swiping quickly across—her swollen clit, before dipping down to enter her. He repeated this trail again and again, agonizingly slow.

“Fuck,” Frank moaned into Karen’s dripping flesh, his voice breaking, and she noticed for the first time that he was pressing his hips into the mattress rhythmically, seeking relief for his own impossible arousal.

When he let his teeth gently drag across her clit, Karen let out a strangled yell, “Frank, I’m almost—”

And before she knew what was happening—before she could even mourn the loss of his mouth, Frank had dragged himself up Karen’s body and slammed into her, filling her to the hilt.

She cried out, an almost animal scream, which Frank matched with a guttural moan, stilling inside of her. She had been expecting that the first time he entered her it would hurt like hell—he was quite a bit larger than she’d had before, and it had been a long time. And it probably would have—were she not so wet that the sheets below her were beginning to dampen with an impressive stain.

Karen was delightfully full, stretched and expanded by him, and she could feel her inner walls gripping his length rhythmically, desperately.

 But he remained still, breathing labored, head buried in her neck.

“Are you alright?” He whispered into her skin, his voice gruff and laced with worry. He hadn’t meant to be so rough—hadn’t realized how much tension he’d been holding back.

“No, Frank,” Karen huffed out, bringing her hands down from the headboard to bury in his hair. “I won’t be alright until you start moving. I need you now.”

At her words, Frank bit savagely into her shoulder, pulling out quickly and slamming back into her heat. The thrust sent her scooting up the bed rapidly, and Karen had to quickly slam one of her hands against the headboard to keep her head from smacking it.

She couldn’t describe the kind of pleasure his rough thrusts were sending through her, every slam of his hips hitting something deep and primal inside of her. Scrambling for purchase, Karen used her hand pressed against the headboard to push off, meeting Frank on each thrust. Her back bowing off the bed, hips twisting upward, sending him deeper within her.

He was moaning and mumbling nonsense into her shoulder, and through the thick haze of arousal, she caught only snippets of what he was saying, mostly four letter words mixed in with iterations of her name. His voice was erotic in her ear, and Karen was so caught up trying to match his thrusts and listen to his whispered words, she didn’t even realize she was babbling similar thoughts as well.

Frank’s hands were everywhere on her, tweaking her nipples, running down her side, tangling in her hair. When he finally lifted his head from her neck to claim her mouth in a kiss, it was rough and sloppy—saliva, teeth, and tongues everywhere. Karen’s body had never felt so exquisitely used and tortured, but she could feel it all building to an end, her body pulling tight as a bow, a wave of pleasure building up from her core.

“Frank, I’m—I’m so close—” she groaned.

Frank grabbed one of her earlobes between his teeth, biting down. “Let go, Kare” he growled, suddenly pistoning his hips into her even harder and faster than before—impossibly rough. He was like a man on fire, and it felt like heaven. It only took a few more thrusts, Frank whispering something obscene in her ear, and Karen shattered around him. Her orgasm hit her so strong, she briefly felt dissociated from her body, just a whirling storm of pure and visceral pleasure. Karen could have sworn she almost blacked out for a second, coming to with her ears buzzing and her mind clouded. When she was able to shake the haze from her head, she noticed, with some surprise, that she was in a slightly new position.

Frank had shifted back onto his knees, pulling at Karen’s hips until her legs were spread wide and her ass was resting right on the apex of his lap. From her position, Karen was able to lazily stare up at him, watching the bunch and stretch of his chest and arm muscles as he thrust into her languidly, working her through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice tense.

“Mmm,” Karen stretched, arching up slightly into his gentle thrusts. “I’m liquid.” She rotated her hips in a slow circle, and Frank’s breath hitched. He was unbearably close to his own release. “Take me, Frank.”

That was all he needed.

Frank’s eyes went wild, and his body taut. His hips stuttered forward, picking up the pace until he was thrusting into her hard enough to have her groaning his name again. He moved one hand from her waist, dragging it up to cup her breast, squeezing gently. And in a few more pumps, he was spilling himself inside of her with a deep cry. Karen watched in fascination as his back arched, his hips faltering against her as his release took him in waves, and then he collapsed next to her with a sigh.

All was still for a few moments, nothing but the sound of their labored breathing breaking the silence, then: “Fuuuuck,” Frank groaned, his face buried in the pillow next to Karen’s ear. It was an appreciative exclamation, and she couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped her—she had been thinking the exact same thing

“Would it be cliché of me to ask why we didn’t do that sooner?” Karen rolled over, burying her face in Frank’s back.

“Yes.” He replied, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Plus, I already know the answer to that question.”

“Oh?” Karen gently bit into his shoulder blade.

“Yeah. Because I’m an idiot.”

Karen laughed, rolling over onto her back and throwing her arms over her head. Frank’s head popped up, and he turned to watch Karen with a smile on his face. She was gorgeous when she laughed—and she was even more gorgeous when she was laughing naked. Laying in bed. Next to him.

A deep wave of satisfaction rolled over him, settling into his gut. This was it—this was exactly what he’d wanted. Karen—happy and satisfied and within arm’s reach.

He folded his arms under the pillow, then rested his head so that he could admire her profile. She was staring up at the ceiling with a smile.

“Karen.”

She turned her head, biting her lip, to look at him.

“Yes, Frank?” There was humor in her voice. She felt buoyant—she felt like something made to float.

“I want to make sure you understood me earlier,” his voice was gentle, but serious. Very serious. “What I said in the alley.”

“Yes?” Karen nodded, telling Frank to go on.

“You have me, Karen. All of me.”

Karen rolled to her side to that she could face Frank, her nose only inches away from his own.

“You have me too, Frank.” She reached forward, snaking her hand under his pillow to grab a hold of his arm. She pulled it out gently, then flattened his palm over her heart. It was rough and calloused, but it was also warm and comforting. Frank closed his eyes. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel her heartbeat.

“Stay with me tonight.” Karen whispered it, then leaned forward the brush her lips softly against his own—just a feather-light touch.

“Of course.”

He wanted to say that he would stay with her every night, but he settled for wrapping his arms around her and tugging her against his chest.

 Karen’s alarm went off at 5AM on the dot, and she rolled over with a groan. She didn’t even have to open her eyes to know that Frank wasn’t in bed—she’d heard him get up at 4:30, and had been trying to ignore the sounds he was making in the kitchen for the past half hour.

Rolling out of bed, she stretched with her arms high above her head until her back let out a satisfying pop. She picked up Frank’s sweater from the floor, pulling it on before stumbling into the living room.  She felt a deep sense of satisfaction, wearing that sweater. It fell about an inch under the curve of her ass, and it smelled like him—spicy and warm.

“Hey there,” Frank’s voice was rough with morning grit, and it sent an awakening wave of arousal up Karen’s spine. He was standing at the stove in nothing but his boxers, scrambling eggs. She could die happy having seen that sight.

“Morning,” she walked up behind him, slipping her arms around his waist to peer over his shoulder. “I hope all that noise you were making is worth it.”

Frank chuckled. “It’s not my fault you don’t stack your pans properly. All I did was open the cabinet and about fifty of them fell out.”

“Lies,” Karen nuzzled her nose into Frank’s neck. “I don’t even own fifty pans.”

“It’s hyperbole, Page. You’re the writer, aren’t you?” Frank turned his face, kissing the top of Karen’s head.

“It’s too early for hyperbole.”

“Mhmm,” Frank added a handful of shredded cheddar to the frying pan. “Coffee’s in the machine. Have a cup and we’ll try this conversation again.”

“You are a good man.” Karen nipped at his neck before turning around to grab a cup of much-needed caffeine.

 Neither of them had class until 9AM, so they were able to take a leisurely breakfast, sitting across from each other at Karen’s little table, her feet resting in his lap. It had taken longer than normal for them to finish their eggs, as they kept getting distracted making eyes at each other. Which inevitably led to some early-morning kissing.

Their shower had taken much, much longer.

It was unlike any morning-after she’d had before. It was comfortable—it was domestic—and suddenly, Karen could see so clearly what her future with Frank would look like. Could see a long, pleasurable stretch of early mornings laid out before them.

It was 7:30 AM by the time they were ready to leave—Karen to meet with Trish at the campus coffee shop to go over some last minute changes to her IRB proposal, and Frank to head back to his place for some fresh clothes.

Karen was buttoning up her coat by the front door while Frank laced up his boots on the couch.

“By the way, I’m taking the kids to the park after work today,” Frank stood up, yanking the leg of his jeans down to cover his boots. “Gonna help Leo practice her pitching. And Frankie’s still trying to learn to skate.”

“Sounds like fun,” Karen began winding her scarf around her neck.

“Should be,” Frank walked over, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, facing Karen. “So you coming with us?”

Karen’s hands paused in their task, and she looked up at Frank with widened eyes.

“You want me to?” She kept her voice light, though her heart was hammering heavily in her chest.

“Karen,” Frank’s voice was disapproving. “Do you really need me to answer that?”

“Well am I—,” she furrowed her brow. “Am I allowed to? Like, is Maria okay with that? Some random woman hanging around with her kids?”

“Damnit, Karen.” Frank was suddenly in front of her, grabbing onto her upper arms with both hands. There was a fierce look on his face. “This thing is serious. You and me? It’s serious. Maria knows that.”

And all she could do was kiss him—deep and slow and filled with all of the joy fit to burst out of her.

When she pulled away, Frank smiled. “Is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”

As they left the apartment, heading out to face a brand new day, Karen realized that she never actually got around to telling Frank that she loved him. That was okay, she decided. They had all the time in the world.

(It turned out that she wouldn’t actually get the chance to say it first. It would slip out of Frank’s mouth a week later, as he watched her pour antiseptic over Frankie Jr.’s scrapped knee. Karen would finish bandaging the boy’s wound, give him a reassuring pat, and send him on his way before turning around and jumping into his father’s arms, whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you” with her head nuzzled into this neck).

[biayahlife]

NesianFest

The First Annual DFW Nesian Fest took place on 22-23 May 2021 at the Asia Time Square in Grand Prairie, Texas. It’s presented through a partnership of the Asia Times Square and Gu’d Life ENT with a mission “to unify through diversity” by raising cultural awareness, educating on various cultural backgrounds, preserve traditions, and supporting students and small businesses. Additional information can be found at their website.

From Miayah:

This is the first time I’ve ever encountered a festival dedicated to the island cultures that exist in the Pacific, and was excited to go to the event. In my family, there was some reservation about the level of representation each of the cultures would have, I think that was a valid concern. While there aren’t a lot of full on Asian cultural centers in Texas, Asia Times Square is a fairly large venue with a grocer, food court, various shops (clothing, tech, etc), and an executive business center. There is a lovely outdoor pavillion where most of the entertainment was initially to be held. Unfortunately, the mercurial nature of Texas weather has given us the rainiest year in recent memory. This forced the vendors indoors, and made for a crowded festival.

In my opinion, there was a pretty solid skew of representation of the Nesian community. It was really nice to see things I’m familiar with represented and celebrated. It was a small festival, and I hope to see it grow in the coming years. As a first venture out into public, it was very, very crowded, though quite enjoyable. Frankly, there were so many things to see and smell (the food was wonderful) that pictures absolutely didn’t make the list of things to do. We did take some pictures of the things we purchased afterwards though.

I’m excited to see this festival grow, and am keeping an eye out to see when it will happen next year. 🖤

From Becky:

This last Saturday Miayah, her boyfriend, and I drove up to Dallas and attended NesianFest. It was the grand opening of the Asia Times Square in Grand Prairie, TX and a celebration of Asian culture. The event was recommended to us by one of Miayah’s aunties back in early April and sounded like a blast. After sorting out how our vaccine schedules would work, we discovered that the festival would be days after we hit 2 weeks post second vaccine. It was perfect! The fact that we could make our first real outing in over a year happen immediately after we were fully vaccinated was very very exciting.

The drive up was less pleasant than we’d hoped. It rained the whole 3 ½ hours; we checked the weather radar online about halfway to Grand Prairie and found that we were basically chasing the storm. It made for a slow and long trip with very low visibility. I drove up and we survived with frequent stops. We arrived around 5:20p which ended up being good timing because the performances started at 6p. We were actually going to get there sooner but in the first 20 minutes of the drive Miayah’s contact ripped so we had to turn around. It was fortuitous in a way, much better than the contact ripping 3 hours in and no way to get a replacement.

We stopped at Buc-ee’s on the way up and wandered around as you do when you visit the best gas station in the country. Miayah purchased a cute tumbler and we got plenty of snacks. I ended up with 3 different kinds of kolaches and a cream cheese danish. They were delicious and quite lovely as I had not eaten breakfast before we left. If you haven’t been to Buc-ee’s before I highly recommend that you go at least once in your life. It’s a small chain of gas stations that are primarily in Texas but their facilities are HUGE. One gas station is the size of a Walmart. There are 50+ gas pumps. They have clothes, dishes, kitchen accessories, candles, soaps, keychains, their own line of candies, jerky, fudge, marinated meats, and cheesecake. Their barbeque station is incredible. They have everything under the sun in this one gas station and it’s amazing. Our god kids think of Buc-ee’s as a destination rather than a waypoint. 

When we arrived at the venue we rushed inside as it was still raining and were quickly confronted with quite the crowd. Our theory is that the performances and speeches were supposed to have been done outside but with the rain everything was forced to be inside. The stage was set up in such a way that it nearly blocked the entrance. Now keep in mind, Asia Times Square is essentially an indoor mall. They have shops lining both sides of a main thoroughfare and the performance area was set up in the middle of the lane! It was more crowded than we’d expected and the air was hazy and smelled delicious. We decided to wander through the crowd away from the main spectacle to see everything the venue offered.

As we pushed through the crowd we passed many vendors, all offering wonderful things from different places in the Eastern hemisphere. There was boba, Chamorro treats, pickled foods, trinkets of all sorts, t-shirts proclaiming nations of origin. There was a covered patio area which was filled with food vendors, all cooking street foods - delicious and very portable. The aroma of the food was intoxicating; everywhere you walked in this indoor mall was permeated with this mouth watering scent. After looking at all the food we decided to push back up to the performance area as it was nearly 6p.

We hustled over to the back of the room where all the chairs were set up, the furthest back point from the stage, eagerly awaiting the start of the show. What we didn’t realize in picking our spot is that the band that was composed completely of cymbals and one drum was directly in front of us. We had the advantage of seeing all the dancers get ready; they donned traditional 2 man  Chinese dragon costumes. Once they were in place, the drum started and the cymbals crashed in. It was mind blowingly loud and fantastic. The music rattled my bones and made thought impossible; all I could do was stand there and experience the phenomenal sound washing over us. It was amazing!

After the dancing was completed we decided to explore the rest of the venue. It turned out that there was a whole half of a mall that we didn’t see initially past the outdoor patio. There was a grocery store where we picked up some teacups and little treats. After the grocery store we decided it was time to eat as all we’d had up to this point were the snacks from Buc-ee’s. We chose a place called “The Pearl Restaurant and Lounge” where they had dim sum. I’d never had dim sum before so I was very excited to try things. We had shark fin dumplings, quail egg dumplings, soup dumplings, deep fried spring rolls, gyoza, and bbq pork dumplings. It was great and super delicious. After finishing this first order we were still hungry and debated for a minute about what to do next; we could order more dumplings or…… go eat street food!

The street food smelled too good to resist so we paid up at The Pearl and headed to the patio. We picked up Lao sausage, satay on a stick, beef on a stick, and fresh papaya salad. I also got some candied pecans, pecan tarts, and truffles from the Chamorro table. Everything was delicious and we were soon stuffed to the gills. At this point it was about 8:30p and we were completely full and overstimulated and very tired. It’s funny, staying in the house all the time for over a year makes your stamina for social situations very weak. We had so much fun yet being in that crowd with all the noise and the heat of bodies pressed together became overwhelming pretty quickly. We headed back home.

It didn’t rain on the way back so we had a very smooth, very short drive. We did stop at Buc-ee’s again and I picked up a matching tumbler to Miayah’s; hers is teal and mine is pink. We came home to dogs that were very happy to see us. Overall I’m glad we took this day trip. It was a festive and bright way to welcome back some normalcy in our lives. If Asia Times Square hosts another NesianFest next year I think it would be great to go back.

[preservationandruin]

Oathbringer Liveblog: Interludes Three

Our spread this time is Venli, Mem, and Sheler. We don’t know who all of these are, but Venli is back again. 

I yell about Parshendi gender and gender in general (listen. listen. gender is fake), we get a look into Mraize’s house staff, a motherfucker makes a real big mistake in the Herdazian army, we get a beautiful inversion of traditional mythological imagery, and I love Timbre. 

Odium’s grand purpose for Venli meant turning her into a showpiece. 

So this is great. She’s basically telling the Parshmen and Voidbringers about what the humans did to the Parshendi. Her new form is called “envoyform” and it’s very tall, and gives her the ability to speak and understand all languages. She’s telling a version of the story that emphasizes that the Alethi feared that the Parshendi would cause an uprising among the Parshmen and they couldn’t stand having “slaves” who could think. 

Not strictly true, but I highly doubt that wasn’t going across Alethi minds. Odium is giving the parshmen an origin myth through her--the listeners were the last of a generations, sacrificing themselves to free their enslaved brothers and sisters. The narrative is that Venli is the last of the Listeners. 

Well, there’s Rlain, too, but she doesn’t know that. Anyway, Odium--like Gavilar--is portraying the Listeners as dead, dying, gone “into the songs,” an artifact, and fragment. That’s such bullshit. They were a living, breathing culture, not a fragmentary setpiece to be played with as a talking point. 

Interestingly, Venli notes that the Alethi parshmen act very much like the Alethi. I’ll bet that has something to do with like, Connection? Like how Dalinar can figure out how people speak. Anyway. It’s been too long since I’ve read the Mistborn Two series to remember the specifics of like, the connection medallions. 

So we get the strata of Voidbringer society--lowest are the normal Singers, then are Regals like Venli, who have bonded a Voidspren, then at the top we have the Fused. 

Also, the fact that all the eligible fighting men were sent off to war has made conquering Alethkar much easier for the Voidbringers. She notes that the Parshmen still have far to go--they need to be instructed about the Rhythms, they act like humans, they call Regals “Brightness.” 

That lopsided dress looked ridiculous. There was no reason to distinguish between genders except in mateform. 

THEN WHY DO YOU GENDER YOURSELVES EVEN WHEN OUT OF IT??? WHY DON’T GENDERS ONLY APPLY TO MATEFORM?? WHY DOES EVERY CULTURE IN THE COSMERE STILL HAVE A MASSIVE LEAN TOWARD THE GENDER BINARY WHEN NOT EVEN EVERY HUMAN CULTURE IN OUR WORLD USED IT?? /nonbinary rant over

The Fused are still around; they’re dismissive of the singers and even the Regals. Also, we get that some of the Fused are just...very, very broken. One stares unblinking and always grins. 

Venli points out that they’ll need human slaves if they want the land to actually be productive, but Rine--one of the Fused--points out that any human could be a Surgebinder. Also, we get that Parshendi do have gemhearts--they are almost bone-colored, and gorgeous in Venli’s estimation. 

Also, the Voidbringers don’t know how the humans bond spren and more strongly than the Voidbringers do, without a gemheart. Rine believes that they need to be exterminated. 

Anyway, Venli hears--distantly--the Rhythm of the Lost. 

She’d always hated the Alethi, who had acted like they were benevolent parents encountering wild children to be educated. They had pointedly ignored the culture and advancements of Venli’s people, eyeing only the hunting grounds of the greatshells that they--because of translation errors--decided must be the listeners’ gods. 

Absolutely fair, Venli. She points out that despite the airs of the Alethi, the only reason they could manage art and beautiful things was because they,  unlike the Parshendi, had the resources. 

Venli has been keeping the little cometspren in a pouch with her gemstones. it likes exploring rooms, and pulses awe at everything. I love it and want thirty of them. It keeps pulsing out little bits of rhythms--awe, curiosity. Venli notes that she can hear the old rhythms, and asks if that’s because of the spren, and it pulses to Resolve. 

“What are you hoping to accomplish? Your kind betrayed us. Go find a human to bother.”  It shrank further. Then pulsed to Resolve again. 

I love it. 

Over to Mem. They--whoever they are--are doing laundry. She’s going into the intricacies of getting blood and grease out of fabric without fading the color--which, especially before modern washing and drying, clearly was a bitch and a half. She’s Veden, it sounds like. Pom, her new assistant, is apparently gorgeous. 

Women like Pom didn’t usually end up as washgirls, though she did tend to stare daggers at any man who got too close. Maybe that was it. 

Harold...

Oh, she works for Mraize! That explains why there are bizarre bloodstains on his clothes. Anyway, they go in to a room with Mraize’s stuff--including tapestries of the Heralds--and Pom goes strange. And then attacks one of the tapestries with a knife. 

HELLO, SHALASH!! 

I was wondering if she would show up again. Anyway, Mraize is surprisingly chill about it--apparently, he was trying to draw her out. 

“Ancient one, would you care for something to drink?”  Pom narrowed her eyes at him, then hopped off the chair. She walked quickly to Mraize and used one hand on his chest to push him aside. She pulled open the door.  “I know where Talenelat is,” Mraize said.  Pom froze. 

Oh man. Apparently, whatever was in Mraize’s suit was called aether, and he praises Mem highly, approves a huge raise for her, and says she’s a genius. 

He’s dangerous and strange and amoral, but damn, I can’t help but like Mraize. 

Back over to Venli. She’s being carried over the land by the Fused, and thinking about how much Eshonai would have liked this. Venli, on the other hand, appears to get airsickness. They’ve reached Kholinar, so this will be interesting. 

If any of these motherfuckers hurt Gavinor I will be furious. He’s three and he’s been through enough. 

Apparently, here she’ll be truly practicing her oratory. 

We skip again, to Sheler, being told that he has three choices by a herdazian general.  I LOVE HERDAZIAN JUSTICE LISTEN TO THIS: 

“You have three choices.” The general’s manacles clinked as he twisted his hands in them. “First, you can choose the sword. Now, that might be a clean death. A good beheading rarely hurts. Unfortunately, it won’t be a headsman who gets the chance with you. We’ll give the sword to the women you abused. Each gets a hack, one after another. How long it goes will depend on them.”  “This is outrageous!” Sheler said. “I’m a lighteyes of the fifth dahn! I’m cousin to the highlord himself and--”  “Second option,” the general said, “is the hammer. We break your legs and arms, then hang you from the cliff by the ocean. You might last until the storm that way, but it will be miserable.” 

Apparently, this asshole was caught robbing and murdering civilians, and also raping women (“a resistance is not what we caught you mounting.”). So I have zero sympathy for him. 

Anyway, the third option is “the hog.” You get greased, and you wrestle a hog. Apparently, you don’t die if you do this. Of course, Lighteyed Shithead goes for that one, although I was hoping for the sword. 

Oh. Sheler was in Amaram’s army. No wonder he’s a horrible person. 

Obviously, the Herdazian general was too frightened to actually kill an Alethi officer. So they would humiliate him by making him wrestle a pig. They’d have a good laugh, then send him away smarting. Idiots. He’d come back with an army.

They chain him to a wall, douse him in oil,  and then the fun starts. 

“I’d say ‘good luck,’ boss,” the Herdazian soldier told Sheler as his companion ran off, “but I’ve got three marks on you not lasting a full minute. Still, who knows. When the general was chained down here, he got out in less.”  The ocean started to churn. “Of course,” the soldier said, “the general likes this kind of thing. He’s a little weird.”  The soldier dashed back up the bank, leaving Sheler locked in place, doused in pungent oil, and gaping as an enormous claw broke the surface of the ocean. Perhaps “the hog” was more of a nickname. 

This is the best inversion of “chain a young woman to a beach for the sea monster to eat/ravish in a weird twisted rape metaphor” (I’ve. read papers on the sexual undertones of these myths)--”chain a sexual predator to the beach and take bets on whether he survives.” 

Back over to Venli. She’s named her little spren Timbre, which is adorable, and I love it. It explores every corner of every room it’s allowed--it’s a little explorer. Just like Eshonai was. 

Anyway, Venli is kept to a stormshelter outside of Kholinar, not allowed to leave. She wants to go explore the city. Venli has to tell Timbre to stay inside, because the Fused want to kill it and ones like it. 

Meaning it almost certainly can be a Radiant spren. I love Timbre! 

Venli rested her head on her arms. “I feel like a relic,” she whispered. “Already I seem like a cast-off ruin from a nearly forgotten day. Are you the reason I feel like that, suddenly? I only get this way when I let you out.”

Timbre starts to pulse to Pleading and Peace, as Venli thinks about Eshonai, and Demid. Everyone who worried about her ambition. Who died, in the end, because of her ambition. 

“I’m the wrong one,” Venli said to Annoyance. “I can’t do this, Timbre. I can’t resist him.”  Pleading. “I made this happen,” She said to Fury. “Don’t you realize that? I’m the one who caused all this. Don’t plead to me!” 

Annoyance and fury at Timbre, or at herself? 

But Timbre sticks to resolve, and--for the first time--we get a gendered pronoun--”she.” Hm. 

Timbre hides under the bed from Everstorms ahhhh I love her so much. 

Anyway, the Everstorm comes around every nine days--the Odium number again. Odium doesn’t like it when she closes the window during Everstorms. 

How long can you keep being two people, Venli? She seemed to hear Eshonai’s voice. How long will you vacillate? 

A good question, Ghost Eshonai. Anyway, Venli is now talking directly to Odium. He says she isn’t telling the story well enough, and as she speaks to him she is literally being burned apart. He threatens to destroy her if she keeps being distracted. 

Yikes. Doesn’t sound like a nice boss, Venli. Not that we expected him to be. She wakes and her fingers are bleeding from how she’s clawed at the stones. Yikes. Timbre pulls her out of her horror by humming Peace, but Venli can’t hum it herself. 

The wrong sister had died. The wrong sister lived.  Venli had schemed to return their gods.  This was her reward. 

Ouch. 

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

I've been to Wildwood. The Jersey Shore is crazy in general but wildwood is next level. The board walk has like 200 of the same t-shirt store, feels like you're walking through the fires of hell, and is jam packed with kids on camp trips. I've only ever done the board walk there but I've seen the walk you have to take to get out to the beach, it's insane. I can only imagine what it's like with family. How old are your cousins and what are they like?

My family has literally been coming to Wildwood every year since, like, at LEAST the 1930’s, I’m not sure on anyone earlier than that, and my family is insane, so let’s dive into this.

The Main Characters In My Life On Vacation Are:

-My Grandmother, who was a child dancer star (she tapped on the radio!) who’s been coming down here her whole life- her parents used to come down the same day there would be a talent show, enter her in it, and then use her first prize reward for the money they’d spend throughout the week. Has been in the old person stage of “I’m an elder, who cares what I say or do” for the past 15 years. Has eight living kids and Too Many Descendants. Loud and refuses to admit she can’t walk half the time.

- My Mother, who gets confused very easily, overshares and breaks off into meaningless tangents in the middle of stories, snores like a literal demon, always wants to be asleep, keeps pushing for family activities, doesn’t realize all the kids think she’s lame.

- Me, who is always Extra Depressed in the summer months, and is the Sole Person In This Family My Age- everyone just stopped having babies for a few years when my mother decided to have me (Everyone is either over 25 or under 16). Because of this I’m usually confined to my room, unable to really do anything on the boardwalk because going on rides alone is depressing and my mother has heart problems. Just wants to read and write, but the children keep Screaming.

- My Aunt and Her Husband- A Very Loud Couple, she likes to control everything and he’s the only one who ever bothers to yell back at her. They always fight exactly once, every year, and every year somehow I always end up being the only other person in the apartment while its happening, so I just have to sit in awkward silence until my aunt finally huffs out “I can’t believe you’re doing this in front of my goddaughter!” and storms out to go find her kids. They make a lot of jokes and think their children are very dramatic.

- Jenna, the 14 year old cousin. Very dramatic. Mastered the art of the eye roll at a young age. Has literally looked like a mini model since she was born. Can’t be bothered to deal with anyone. We usually have one (1) tiny girl-bonding moment each vacation and then she promptly acts like she doesn’t care even though it’s clear she does. Athletic and artistic and musically/theatrically gifted. Very sarcastic. Always doing cartwheels.

- Seanie, the 12 year old cousin. Middle child syndrome. Tries to hard to be funny for attention. VERY dramatic. Will cry at the drop of a dime (I’m typing this and I literally just heard him burst into tears in the other room??). Super adorable, you can tell he’s gonna be one of those high school boys that pulls Ridiculous Shit but after one charming smile the teachers can’t bring themselves to stay mad. Very loud. Currently addicted to video game youtubers.

-Zack, the 7 year old cousin. Adorable. Loud. Lowkey a prodigy child but they can’t afford to get him into Special Schools so he’s always bored in class. Baby Of The Family syndrome. Currently in an aggressive pokemon phase. Doesn’t understand he’s literally a child, he acts like an old man half the time.

We’re all shoved into a small apartment for a week, but there are Others:

- Kathy, Grandmom’s second oldest. Literally the most bland person I have ever encountered on this planet. Very, very into trying to plan ‘fun’ family events. Thinks any conversation is a riveting conversation.

- Kathy’s husband, who is just a plain old guy who’s lowkey a hoarder and jokes around a lot, but every time someone mentions his past or his family it gets more and more confusing??? He may have a brother who was in the CIA??? He may have been homeless or he may have lived with his sister???? He may have killed a man???? I literally know nothing concrete about this man other than he’s apparently been with my aunt since they were teens but I. D. K. Every new piece of information I receive just scatters the puzzle more.

- Their eldest daughter and her husband spend most of the summer down here but always make sure to match up the schedule for when we come down. Loud, energetic couple. I have no idea what either of them do for work? They might currently be unemployed? Really into alcohol. At some point in the week every year, everyone in my apartment bonds together to diss them after we get back from the beach. Like, they’ll do something or another EVERY YEAR that sets EVERYONE off.

- The 16 year old. Tries to show everyone memes on his phone. Never really talks to people. Does NOT get along with his parents because he’s kinda an outlier in the family. I feel like he might be a stoner, but if I find out he’s got a hidden gun collection, I wouldn’t be surprised? That probably sounds awful but he’s a good kid I promise.

- Danny, 12. Adorable. Quiet. Mini golden boy. Makes jokes when you aren’t expecting them. Very resigned to the fact he has to hug me and my mother when he sees us.

- Kathy and Mystery Man’s youngest daughter, a librarian, and her stand up comedian husband, and now their three month old who is ADORABLE and everyone was surprised to learn they hadn’t named her Hermione.

Other recurring family members are prone to popping up throughout the vacation- Aunt Margie, Grandmom’s sister-in-law, who, I love her, but remember that chocolate episode of spongebob with the old woman that was essentially a stick in a wheelchair and had a chain smoker voice??? Put that in the tiniest bikini you can imagine and add a wheezing laugh and you got her. Her daughter who I could not recognize on a street if I tried. Her son Michael, who is best friends with my mom and apparently Not Gay (no one’s really convinced). A step-cousin sometimes pops by, she’s very breezy and easy-going and you can’t distinguish her Actual Talking Voice with her Talking To Little Kids Voice.

Anyway, Wildwood itself is just. Goddamn ridiculous.

The aesthetic of this place is somewhere between the 1950’s, a trailer park, and the kind of developed land you get when a moustache-twirling man wants to convince all the old people he can to retire to his buildings. Some buildings are harsh metal, and others are bright pastels, but the only thing joining them together is the fact that it looks like no one has cleaned anything here in years. EVERYTHING, even the knew stuff, looks worn and faded. Even like…the AIR is faded. It’s not just the sun being too bright, everything you’re looking at looks like it’s an old photograph. If you stay too long, you might start to fade into the landscape yourself.

I have never once seen an animal that wasn’t a seagull here. Most towns, islands, places, whatever- you usually have at least squirrels running around, maybe some variations of birds, just. ANYTHING. But it’s all seagulls all the time. You cannot exist in a spot for longer than a few moments without one of them dive bombing you. They are not mere birds. They are feathered demons that Hath No Fear Of The Foolish Mortals Of Mankind.

The song “Wildwood Days” plays on the Boardwalk every half hour. It is the only way to appease the spirits. It’s the modern, New Jersey-ian version of painting lamb blood over your door frame. As much as I’ve grown to hate the song, to twitch and clench my fist at each note, I deeply fear for the day the song doesn’t play on time and the curse is unleashed. I have a deep, sinking feeling that this moment will come within my life time.

If You Don’t Stop To Watch The Fireworks, Your Bones Shall Never Be Found.

You hear the ongoing chant of “Watch the Tram Car, Please!”, and look around, but there isn’t a Tram Car coming. The order grows louder and louder. You realize you aren’t even on the Boardwalk any more. The sound is right behind you, but you can’t find the source. “Watch the Tram Car, Please!” you realize, to your horror, the sound is now coming from inside you. You never find your true voice again.

Despite The Fact That This Place Is A Mosh Pit Of Families From All Over The World, If You Can’t Immediately Place My Accent Or Figure Out What Language I’m Speaking, I Have Legal Grounds To Kill You.

The sand simply isn’t normal. It’s ADVANCED sand. It doesn’t make sense. It never truly washes off. The more you scrub, the more appears.

Ancient gods from multiple pantheons like to chill out on the beach, have a few beers. You never know for sure who is who, but you Know they aren’t the same as you, and you know they know more about you than you’re comfortable with. For your own sake, NEVER ask them to turn their music down.

There is always at least one plane flying over with a sign reading “Jen, will you marry Sean?”. It’s been decades. Will Jen ever say yes?

Elevators Are For The Weak And We Use Them To Judge Who To Do Away With First.

The ocean goes back and forth between green and grey, and you know the color makes a significant difference but you can never quite put your finger on what.

Fish Are Fake.

All the stores sell everything you want, but nothing you need.

King Kong Is Our Fierce Protector, Loving Hero, And Just Enforcer

All the police officers and firemen and general ‘in charge’ jobs seemed to be run completely by 18 years olds

No one truly knows who pulls the shots when it comes to deciding the Boardwalks style each year. Every store sells the same Designated Style, and each year they make less and less sense. You buy a specialized hoodie anyway, and you have no idea why.

I could keep going on with that list, but the point is, Wildwood is a Strange Place and I have a Ridiculous Family, so every year is always a bit of an experience.

Like, no one in my family really has anything in common other than everyone’s always loud and everyone’s always right and everyone is always ready to loudly fight over the fact that they’re definitely right, but like. Imagine crawling through some Hillbilly Murder Showers in the garage of a condo, using all of your force to pry open a suspiciously heavy and questionably mechanized door, walking under the boardwalk and trekking over sand dunes just to find a bunch of screaming yet physically relaxed people under the flag for Montserrat. Some guy’s cracking stand up jokes while no less than three children are fighting each other, your mother is promising for the 14th year in a row that you’re gonna go on a whale watching trip and everyone knows she’s lying, some woman’s trying to hold a conversation about buying applesauce in bulk while her husband and children get drunk, there’s a skinny pale guy with horrible sunburn blasting songs from N.W.A., a girl’s cartwheeling around the site to the point you think she doesn’t know how to move any other way, a boy’s quietly drinking pickle juice, there’s a 7 year old literally trapped in a giant hole that he dug, your mother is snoring loud enough to alarm the people around you, and just when you’re starting to get a little comfortable about the feathered demons and start to relax, a tide comes in so strongly your chair literally starts getting pulled out to sea with you in in. It’s average. It's fading into the landscape with the rest of the place.

[chanandlerbong-world]

When The Darkness Comes - Chapter 15

Fandom: The 100 Relationship: Clexa Rating: M Summary: Clexa AU. Clarke; free-spirited daughter of a humble doctor and engineer gets paired up with Alexandra; robotic daughter of an uptight Catholic housewife and CEO for a chemistry project. Or Lexa’s mother is super strict and Clarke helps her discover who she really is.

Word Count: 2.507

Elizabeth was awoken from her sleep by a knocking on the door.  She opened her eyes and looked at the clock on the wall.  It was nearly midnight. 

“Not now, Joseph.” She said weakly.

“It’s not, Joseph.  Lizzy, open up.”

Elizabeth smiled at the nickname, Jenna only used it when she needed cheering up.  The (almost) middle aged woman moved towards the door and winced at how her bones always hurt a little when taking those first few steps after being still for so long.

She opened the door and smiled at the face that greeted her.  She was immediately wrapped in a hug and all the tension that was in her body started to drift away.  There was something about a hug from your best friend that could heal almost anything.

“Lexa called me.  I came when I knew you’d calmed down.”

“Oh dear…Is she upset?”

“No.” Jenna said as she sat on the bed in the middle of the room. “She should be.  But she’s so used to you being horrible, it didn’t really bother her at all.”

“She thinks I’m horrible?” Elizabeth asked in a shocked voice.

“She doesn’t ‘think’ it Lizzy.  You are horrible.”

“I thought you were here to cheer me up…”

“No, I’m here to keep you from ruining your relationship with your daughter.  That means it’s time for some tough love.”

“And I’m just trying to keep her from making the same mistakes I am!  I don’t see the problem with trying to keep my only living child on the right path.”

“But the way you’re acting…this isn’t you! Where’s the girl I used to know?  She’s in there somewhere, I know it.”

“People change.” Elizabeth stated weakly.

“Not this much!  I’ve watched you warp yourself into the very thing you never wanted to be.  Ever since you got married…”

“I only saw the right thing to do and I did it…You got married too, because it was the right thing.”

“You think I got married because I was pregnant?” Jenna laughed mockingly. “I got married because I fell in love.  Because I was excited to have a family.  We had been talking about marriage before I knew I was pregnant with Anya.  Don’t you dare try to make me out to be like you.”

“Either way...same principle.”

Jenna stared in disbelief. The girl she knew all those years ago appeared to be gone.

“I remember when you went through your first real change.  We were still kids and I saw you really discover who you are.  I admired you for it.”

“What?”

“Yeah.  You were completely, 100%, Lizzy King.  You liked what you liked and did what you wanted.  Everyone else’s opinion be damned.”

Elizabeth smiled at the memory.  “Poor Joseph got the butt end of it.  I was so hard on him all the time…”

 Summer 1985

A loud horn honked obnoxiously outside a moderately sized California home.  It was mid-afternoon, and it was positively scorching.

“I wish she would tell her friends not to do that.”

“She’s your daughter, Gregory.  You’re the father: discipline her.”

“She’s your daughter too, Margaret.” He sighed while running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “I don’t see why it should only be my job.”

“Because I’ve at least tried!  You don’t do anything about it!”

“Well, what do you want me to do?!  Our daughter has spiraled out of control, I’m out of options!”

Upstairs in her poster covered room, Elizabeth King finished putting on her lip gloss and rolled her eyes as she heard her parents arguing yet again.  She didn’t think she was doing anything wrong or out of the ordinary for a 16 year old girl.  Jenna was downstairs in her car honking her horn non-stop, thinking that it would make her best friend move faster…of course it didn’t.  So Elizabeth spent a little extra time in front of the mirror.

After the teen finally decided she looked good enough, she bounded down the stairs owning her crimped pony tail and shiny sparkly lips.

“Elizabeth, where do you think you’re going?” Margaret asked.

“Somewhere with a large enough body of water for me to jump in and cool down.”

“It’s 4:30.  Bible Study is at 6, you don’t have time to go anywhere.”

“Ohhhh. Yeah, I’m not going.  It’s summer and it’s a Tuesday: I can only indulge you with all that fake Jesus crap on Sundays.”

“Elizabeth Sawyer King! I will not allow such horrible things to be said in this house!”

“You sound incredibly ridiculous.  But, I guess that’s even more reason for me to leave.” She said and headed towards the door. “Later, Dad.”

Lizzy practically ran out the door and smiled at the Toyota waiting to carry her away.  She opened the door to the front passenger side and frowned when she saw the seat occupied.

“Get out, Joey.” She commanded.

“No!  I was here first.” The young boy responded.

“Joseph Woods, if you don’t get out of this seat right now I will talk about my lady problems the whole way there.”

“Ok ok. “ Joey surrendered and got out of the car, moving to the back seat.

Lizzy smirked as she slid into the front and gave her best friend a knowing look.  She always got what she wanted.  Especially with Joey, all you had to do was threaten to talk about periods or ovaries and he couldn’t stand it.  The fact that he was hopelessly in love with the blonde teen helped too.

“Hey, Liz.” Jenna said, leaning over to give her a quick hug.

“Hey.  Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Jenna smiled, and sped off.

45 minutes later they were somewhere in Malibu.  It was dusk, starting to get dark, when they approached what seemed to be the entrance to some kind of nature trail.

“What is this place?” Joey asked.

“You’ll see.  Come on.”

They all followed without question until they reached an area that was chained off.  The area was restricted after a certain hour, but Jenna didn’t care.  She stepped over the chain and Lizzy followed: because anywhere Jenna went, she went too.  Joey on the other hand was having second thoughts.

“Hey guys.  Should we really be doing this?  Maybe it’s closed for a reason…”

“Oh come on, Joe.  Don’t be such a stick in the mud.  Break a rule or two for once in your life.” Lizzy groaned.  Joseph was a genuinely good guy that didn’t like to do anything that would get himself or the people around him trouble.  But for Lizzy King, he would do anything.  He was more adventurous than he’d ever been in the last 4 years than he’d ever been since he started hanging around her and Jenna. 

“Fine… but if we get caught I’m blaming you two.” He said.

They all traveled past the chain and up a ridiculously steep hiking trail.  They scaled a little rock wall that wasn’t really dangerous at all and finally they were up high with a nice view of the city.  And below them, about 20 feet down was a lake.  All of their surroundings had a calming orange glow from the sunset.

“So are you guys down?” Jenna asked.

“For what?” Joey responded.

“Cliff jumping!” Lizzy answered. “And I’m totally down.” She said while instantly starting to strip out of her clothes.  Joey’s forest green eyes widened at how the teen so nonchalantly shed her clothing. 

Luckily, she knew they would be getting in water wherever they ended up, so Lizzy came prepared.  Wearing a bathing suit beneath her shorts and t-shirt.  Jenna was prepared all the same and stripped out of the casual dress she was wearing.  The two girls automatically clasped their hands together as they stood at the edge of the cliff: excited and terrified.  With one look at each other they knew they were ready and they stepped off the 20 foot drop.

Joey heard 5 seconds worth of loud shrill screaming followed by a big splash.  He rushed over to the edge to make sure his friends were alright.  When their heads popped up and he heard laughter, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Come on, Joey!” Jenna yelled. “The water feels amazing!”

Joey had to admit it seemed like fun, and even though it was almost 6, it was still really hot so the water might feel refreshing.  He took off his shirt and peered into the water below him: a bit too nervous to actually make the jump right away.

“You know he does have a really nice bod…he’s a nice guy, cute face.  Dating him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Jenna said, quiet enough so only Lizzy could hear.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know why…” The blonde shook her head. “He keeps pining after me, lying to himself.”

“Well if y-“

“Stop it!” Lizzy snapped.  She took a deep breath to calm the anger that flared up out of nowhere. ”I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.  I shouldn’t push you.”

They sat in an awkward silence until Jenna realized Joey had yet to jump. “Let’s go scaredy-cat!” she shouted as she swam over to the rope that was attached to the top of the cliff and began to pull herself back up.  Lizzy followed suit and they made their way back to where their friend was still standing.

Suddenly, a light was being shown on them and they heard a man yell something at them.

Jenna quickly gathered her things and instructed her friends to run.  And they did: they scooped up their belongings and bolted back in the direction they came from.  Luckily they saw that they could just slide down a dirt hill rather than trying to scale the little rock wall again.  Taking the time to do that would get them caught.

All 3 teens tumbled down the hill and proceeded to run covered in dirt, pebbles, and remnants of weeds.  Once reaching Jenna’s car they sped off, not bothering to look back and see if whoever was yelling was on their trail or not.

“I didn’t even get to jump.” Joey wined.

Jenna giggled “Next time, Joe.  Just do it: don’t wait so long.” She sighed. “You guys wanna go to Santa Barbara tomorrow?”

“I can’t.  I’ve got youth group.”

“I’m in.” Lizzy said cheerfully.

“You aren’t coming to group? You haven’t gone in weeks.   Everyone misses you.”

“You know I don’t believe in that stuff, Joe.”

“You used to…I mean when we were kids you were there all the time.  Every youth event, it was guaranteed you would be there.  But it’s like the last few years you’ve just lost faith.”

“I didn’t lose anything.  I’m not letting all those mindless drones control me anymore.  I grew a brain. You should do the same…”

“Come on, Liz.  That’s harsh.” Jenna said sympathetically.

“No, don’t worry about it.” Joey said.  “Lizzy has a right to believe in what she wants…but so do I.  And you know what? I’m offended that you insulted me because I live my life a certain way.  I’m a Christian, and I believe that fellowship and prayer works.   If you don’t feel the same way that’s fine, but don’t go around calling people mindless.”

The car went silent for a minute before Joey spoke up again.

“Just pull the car over.  I can walk from here.”

“No Joe.  We’re not that far from your house.” Jenna pleaded

“Exactly.  We’re not far, let me out.  I don’t want to be around her right now.”

“Ok…I’ll call you later.” Jenna said as she pulled over.  Joey got out without saying anything and the two girls redirected to the King house.

“What the hell, Liz?! What’s been going on with you lately?  You’ve been giving Joey so much shit lately and he’s finally had enough.  Are you happy?”

The blonde didn’t say anything.  She knew what she said was uncalled for but for some reason she kept snapping at all the people around her.   Lizzy was angry and couldn’t help but take it out on everyone around her.

Not wanting to deal with her parents, she asked. “Can I stay at your place tonight? Please?”

Jenna didn’t respond: they both already knew what the answer to that question was. 

[mfmagazine]

Taxidermy Couture

Article by Lauren Weigle

Photo by Rebecca Schmidt

Taxidermy Couture was definitely a must-have for me once I came across it.  Its art mixed with Goth mixed with glamour mixed with vintage mixed with...well, everything!  The point is that the collections are hot and almost entirely made up of one-of-a-kind pieces.  So, if you see something you like you better snatch it up fast as it may be gone tomorrow.  On the other hand, no one else will have the same gorgeous and unique accessory as you will, which makes each piece even more special.

Let’s talk about the Latin phrase “memento mori” and what it means in terms of Taxidermy Couture.

Memento mori means "Remember you must one day die". It names a genre of artistic creations that vary widely from one another, but which all share the same purpose, to remind people of their own mortality and the punishment they will receive if they transgress the rules of their religion. A phrase that has had a tradition in art that dates back to antiquity. I always say my work is "Memento mori inspired" because I personally am not trying to remind people or their punishment when they die. In fact, I'm not one for religion at all. I was raised Catholic and was forced to go to church every Sunday until I left home at 17, but the silver lining was being able to spend an hour every week staring at beautiful art, art that still inspires me to this day… obviously. As far as the connection between memento mori and Taxidermy Couture... well, my use of animal skulls, teeth, and bones would make anyone think about death.

Pretty intense, just like the name of your label.  How did you come up with the brand’s name?

Originally I called my line "Morbid beauty", but it just didn't feel right; it felt very "Goth" to me. Yes, a large amount of my work has a Gothic feel, and I love that. However, I don't want to pigeon-hole myself into a set aesthetic. Some days I'm super vamp, some days I'm a modern hippie, and other days I'm something I don't have a term for. I am, however, extremely into high fashion and art so I felt "Taxidermy Couture" simply described the work much more, and will continue to do so no matter what direction I go in the future.

Tell me about the woman behind the company, Marya.

That's a hard one! As of [December] I am now Marya, the wife. I am happier than I have ever been before in my entire life! We went to Vegas with 10 friends and had the best time! Other than that it changes all the time. I try to dip my toe in anything and everything that interests me.

Speaking of interests, I want to hear all about your musical alter ego!  Spill it!

Valium Valentine, my pop culture alter ego! She was born a year ago and sadly we only got 3 songs done.  You can find them on Myspace. We (my husband and I) LOVE all kinds of music and wanted to just play. However, once it got started I kind of took over and so we decided it was my baby. I want to make a few more songs before she dies... But, we have another secret band we have been working on, so it can be hard to put your mind in two completely different creative places at the same time. My husband and I will always make music, no matter who hears it. Its funny talking about "my music" when I have some close friends in legit bands, they actually make a living making music and touring. If I ever had the chance to go on tour as a performer I'd jump on it.

Do you think your love of music ever inspires some of your pieces for Taxidermy Couture?

How could it not!? I name pieces after songs or bands all the time. I do a series of multi-chain necklaces with my signature mink tooth lockets and other "vampire inspired" charms, no two are the same, but they all share the name "Vampire Weekend". Aside from that, I think the music world has a huge part to play in fashion. I can't help but be influenced by music; it sets a mood. Bands I loved growing up are probably why I started getting tattoos and wore chucks, so yes, music inspires many a Taxidermy Couture piece.

You also style and cut hair.  Is there anything you don’t do?!

Well, when I was really young I want to be a fashion designer. I'd draw pictures of clothes all day. My mom was a super punk rock chic, purple and green hair, made all her clothes, made jewelry out of scrap metal she'd find on the street, etc. Since the age of 11 she'd ask me to cut her hair. I won't lie. I had a natural knack for it. By age 14 I could do a perfect bob. So, when I turned 18 and had been living on my own for almost a year, I decided I needed to figure out what career path to go in. Hair just made the most sense, and I loved it. Not to mention, Cosmetology school was a hell of a lot less money than college, and I grew up really poor so the thought of debt was scary. I've worked in so many salons over the past ten years. My favorite was Ultra Salon in Manhattan, NY.  I worked there for four years before calling it quits and crossing over to freelance. I did the hair for two Rapture music videos a few years back. As of now I turned our dining room into a mini-salon. I really love working for myself from home, I'm not a conventional person.

Conventional is way overrated.  So, Marya, why is it exactly that you are drawn to things like teeth and animal skulls?

I am very drawn to teeth. They are just so cool and creepy. I have a tooth wearing a crown tattooed on my left arm. I use a lot of bone vertebrae from various animals; they have the most amazing shapes! It seems wrong not making jewelry out of them. But my original inspiration really comes from a necklace I own. Long story short, my long lost father who I met when I was 23; we were both living in NYC and this amazing thing happened and suddenly I had the coolest father ever! Well, for my birthday he gave me this to-die-for Pade Vavra Diamond and shark tooth necklace. He knew I loved shark teeth and diamonds so, boom! Two years ago I made my first rabbit foot/shark tooth necklace for my husband. We had just started dating and he flipped out over it. That's really why I started making jewelry to sell to the public. He's an independent buyer for a clothing store in our neighborhood, so he convinced me I was talented enough to sell my work. A few months later, my Etsy store was up and running. But, I suppose I have a soft spot for things not the norm because of my mother and her friends, a bunch of young artists from Boston. I even got to be in a small independent film called "black hearts bleed red" directed by Jeri Cane Rossi. The bazaar and “oh so talented” artist Joe Coleman was also in this movie. If you aren't familiar with his work you really should Google him. I wish I had the talent this man has! All the little "weird" things about my childhood just stuck I suppose.

How are you able to take these things that, to some, can be considered dark or dismal, but create such beautiful jewelry from them?

It's all your frame of mind, to some it’s creepy and they will never be into it, no matter how pretty it is. But, to me there is nothing dark or dismal about letting these animals live on through art. I don't think any part of the animal should be wasted. Animals give us the gift of food and warmth. To me the bones and teeth are just as precious and should be respected and admired. No animals are killed for the sake of my art. All parts are from animals that have died from natural causes, or have been killed for the meat. I do eat meat, so I can't be a hypocrite.  I only use vintage fur (usually from damaged fur coats from the 1980's or older) because once I found out how they actually skin the animals alive, I couldn't morally buy new fur. I have very high standards for the materials I use, which is a HUGE part of the work that goes into these pieces. How do I make them beautiful? I don't really know... I just play with it until it becomes what it should be.

Tell me more about some of your one-of-a-kind pieces.

The majority of what I make is one-of-a-kind. And, even the pieces I can replicate aren't identical. To me, teeth and bones are like snowflakes. Because of my high standards of how the animal has died I can't place an order for X amount of jawbones at a time, so I work with what I have, when I have it. I do however do a series of animal skull necklaces that are all OOAK. No two are identical because if you are going to spend over $100 on a necklace, you don't want your best friend to buy the exact same one, right? These are special pieces to keep forever and cherish. Chains like Forever 21 make me sad, mass-produced crap that everyone has and falls apart. Not to mention, the poor children working over 8 hours a day for next to no money just so we Americans can be cheap and selfish, but that's another topic for another interview at another time.  

Well then let’s stick to things like some of your vintage-inspired pieces.  Can you tell me a little about those as well?

Well, I use a lot of vintage pieces and up-cycle them. That's another reason why most of my work is one-of-a-kind. I use a mix of new and old charms and chains. Because of my background growing up with my mother I have always thrift-shopped and had fun finding little hidden treasures at flea markets and vintage shops. It may even be in my blood. After meeting my father, I found out he originally started his long career of owning retail stores with a vintage store. I must admit that lately I've been VERY focused on my Taxidermy Couture, but now that my wedding is over I have more free time and I am planning on coming out with new vintage-inspired, non-taxidermy work soon. It all depends on my inspiration. I can't force my work or it will show, and not in a good way. Any art I make is an organic experience.

Ooh, I can’t wait for more vintage pieces!  My absolute favorites are the Vintage up-cycled Chanel earrings and the Mortality charm necklace, but it’s out of stock.  Any come-backs on the horizon for those items on your site that have already sold out?

I've had a soft spot for Chanel since I was about 20. I have enjoyed collecting Chanel earrings since then. I hate clip-on earrings so any vintage pair I can up-cycle into posts, I will. It’s funny you mention the Mortality charm necklace because one of my best friends Katy aka Kickball bought it a few months back, so I got to see her wearing it again at our wedding. She fell in love (her words) with it when we did a La Sera for Taxidermy Couture photo shoot. Luckily for me she used them as her press release photos. La Sera is her solo project. She's more known for her band "Vivian Girls". And again, that is a one-of-a-kind. Ninety percent of the materials used for that necklace were vintage parts.

I’m so jealous!  Any new ideas in the works for more killer necklaces or earrings?

I won't know until I make them, sorry. However, I am lucky that a collector in the mid-west (they are retired and go for nature excursions constantly) has decided they want to "clean out there closet" so to speak, so I have a large number of vertebrae, skulls, and wolf teeth coming in any day now!

I noticed you don’t have any bracelets or watches yet.  Ever think about including some pieces along those lines in future collections?

I've actually done a few pocket watch necklaces, all OOAK and all sold before I could even get them up on my site. I do gallery and trade shows and other events where I sell my work. I also sell my jewelry at Shotwell in Union Square, San Francisco (my current home) and at Modern Eden gallery in North Beach, SF. So, not everything makes it in my own online store. As far as bracelets, it’s funny. I've made a few, but I never really think to make more because I'm not much of a bracelet person myself. I have this thin gold wire I wear every day. Come to think of it, I might be on my third year of wearing it without ever taking it off. How funny! I never really thought about it.

So, if you weren’t doing what you’re doing, what do you think you would be?  A taxidermist?

Definitely not. I am actually squeamish. I don't think I could do any of the dirty work. If there is something I want to do, I'll try it out. However, I do love decorating. I could see myself in interior design. My husband and I love doing theme rooms in our house! We can't wait to own our own home one day and go crazy! Right now I'm starting some business classes. We want to move back to NYC and open our own small Brooklyn boutique. I'll continue to make jewelry of course, but we will fill the store up with any awesome artists’ work we can get our hands on. We're hoping this will happen within the next two years. More than half my online sales are from NYC, so that's a good sign.