#and idk where the nearest print shop is

[handern]

if you're an artist you should make more prints and zines so I could buy them and have them in my home

#I fucking love prints and zines and I love getting packages and I love putting things on my walls and framing them and leafing through books #just got a zine in the mail while sick and it's the best day ever actually I'm very excited #babbles blabbles #I used to go to the print shop to print my friends' art on top quality paper #only stopped bc I moved out too many times #and idk where the nearest print shop is #gotta figure that out actually #I see people sharing their art online and I want to eat it

[sixosix]

'cat' the son | itoshi rin

( a/n ) when i came back the poll was 50/50 so i got bribed and it’s now decided that rin is the winner + little highschool au bc we all know they dropped out:/ idk what to title this im ngl

there’s a cat on the sidewalk.

you have about six dollars in your hand, a faltering mission to treat yourself to a cold drink, and an aching heart at the sight of the little animal seated like a king on concrete, looking up at you with blank eyes.

its dark fur and near-teal eyes remind you of someone. of a back facing your seat, dark hair always kept neat and looking like it’s conditioned meticulously, and the sharpest eyes you have ever seen on a high schooler.

it has been a long day, long enough for you to have stormed out of the room as soon as classes ended to rush to the nearest shop that would sell what you’re craving. alas, there is a cat on the sidewalk, and you can’t just ignore it.

“stay here, kitty,” you say before rushing off with the six dollars in hand and a new goal to head straight to the nearest sign with an animal cardboard cutout printed on it.

eventually, you find one; eventually, you come out of the store holding cat food and a tiny cat bowl because you were worried about letting the cat eat straight from the can. it’s baby blue with little fishes added as design, though you think it’s rather gruesome to put that there, considering the canned food you bought is made from fish. still, you hope the cat will appreciate it.

the cat is still there as if it’s understood and blessed you with patience. the unimpressed look it has on its face says otherwise, though. grateful, you kneel beside it, slightly mesmerized by the fact that it hasn’t run away yet.

maybe other people are feeding it, too? it doesn’t look worryingly thin. needs a little cleaning, but looks well-fed. you’re relieved.

“here you go,” you coo, ignoring the strange looks of the passersby. you place the bowl down and crack open the can. the smell has the cat walking over, meowing all crankily. “i know, i know.”

the cat doesn’t dig in until you’ve finished shaking off its contents, staring at you in the same way the itoshi guy in your class would. the resemblance is uncanny.

you spend the rest of your afternoon keeping the cat company. its face speaks as if it’s far from amused, but the way it rubs against your ankle contradicts it.

cute. the cat is cute.

another student comes to visit the cat, carrying two cans of cat food. it’s been sitting in the plastic for a little while because as he had been going in the same routine he usually has, he spots you, his classmate, bent to the knees next to his cat, and paused.

rin thinks you’re scared of him because everyone in the class is. he lets you have your moment, choosing to come back later when you’ve finished so you don’t freak out and scare the cat. he thinks he can strike up a conversation tomorrow where there are no cats to frighten.

the cat walks up to him, instantly familiar. he doesn’t even meow up at rin impatiently, which confirms rin’s suspicions.

“y/n fed you well,” he mumbles. “i guess you can have this tomorrow.”

you’re suddenly all too aware that rin sits in front of you. he’s right there, uniform stretched over his broad back, most likely because he’s the prodigy of soccer in your school.

the neatness of his hair reminds you of the cat from yesterday, with its silky dark fur despite being a stray. you resist the urge to touch it, missing the cat already. you make a mental note to refill your water bottle so the cat can drink after.

while left thinking about the fact that you’re three dollars shorter than yesterday's budget, you fail to notice that class has ended and rin has his arm slung over the top of his chair to turn to look at you.

rin’s eyes flicker down to the paper bag next to your feet. “what’s that for?”

startled by the smoothness of his voice directed at you, you choke out a: “t-this?” you gesture lamely at the bag containing the gruesome bowl.

“what else am i referring to?”

you scrunch your nose. “okay, no need to be so rude. maybe i won’t tell you what it is.”

rin stares, and you’re intensely reminded of piercing eyes looking up at you, patiently waiting for the canned tuna.

“it’s a cat bowl,” you murmur, defeated.

“cat bowl,” he repeats, a gleam in his eye. he probably thinks you’re weirder than he already thinks you are.

“for a stray. i don’t want to bring it around because some other cat owner might steal it. i can’t have that.”

“show me,” he demands.

a little terrified by the fact that the class grump is actively maintaining a conversation with you; you obediently show him the bowl, spinning it around to show all sides. rin hums, contemplative. your classmates are starting to stare. “it’s weird, right? fishes for the print and fishes for dinner. do you like it?”

“lukewarm.”

“what does that even mean?”

“it’s too small. buy a new one.”

“...you think?”

rin nods, standing up. the chair screeches while he says, “i’ll come with you.”

this is how you end up in the same pet supply store with a companion this time. rin picks the most expensive one for the bowl and the canned cat food, which makes you think he must really like cats a lot.

but as you two leave the store, you belatedly realize he’s leading the way even though you never told him anything about the stray you meet.

it doesn’t hit you until the same cat meows and purrs at rin, rubbing against his pants with its entire body.

“hi,” rin says, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you gape. “wait, the cat’s yours?”

rin bends down, knees to his chest while he sets the bowl down and cracks the can open with one finger. “no. dad’s allergic. he doesn’t follow me back home anyway.” while he does that, the cat comes to greet you, and your heart aches on rin’s behalf.

so he just comes to feed him every day, huh… you muse, gently scratching the cat who purrs at your attention but still looks as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“do you have a name for him?”

rin pauses, having finished pouring everything. “...no.” he squints at you as if you’ve just asked him the exact coordinates of his birthplace: sincerely confused.

“what do you call him, then?” you watch as the unnamed cat starts digging down on the food, content. you wonder why no one else has already kept this cat to themselves. he’s so cute and polite.

“cat.”

“ah, of course.”

you two watch ‘cat’ eat, content with the silence. it starts to drizzle moments later, but rin is quick to pull out an umbrella and cover all three of you. the cat grumbles unhappily at the splatter of rain hitting him.

“do you always visit him?”

“yes.”

“do you like cats?”

“yes.”

a shame that allergies are the only thing keeping itoshi rin from getting a cat.

while you’re distracted, the cat goes back to rin. rin wastes no time bending down to pick him up, looking awfully domestic in the middle of a sidewalk in front of a busy coffee shop. your hands twitch to reach for your phone, but you’re too stunned to do anything but stare. they look so much alike.

cute, you think, horrified, rin looks so cute holding the cat.

while engulfed in rin’s arms, the cat meows at you. and you, with a too-tender heart, can’t resist.

“i’ll keep him,” you declare with newfound determination. “i’ll take care of him. if you let me keep the bowl you bought.”

rin’s eyes light up, though it wouldn’t have been evident if you hadn’t been his classmate and witnessed his varying expressions of death. (as if it was varying in the first place.)

“i’ll buy everything else he’ll like,” he says, like a true cat mom, his face glowing with barely concealed excitement.

since then, rin accompanies you home. you tell him that you’ve saved up three dollars from yesterday and now you have more than enough to buy a nice, cold drink and maybe catnip for the cat, but rin insists that he’ll pay for everything, including your beverage.

“you feed our son.”

“our son?” he repeats curiously.

“yes. he lives with me. he looks like you,” you explain absentmindedly, setting up the water dispenser on the new food bowl rin ended up buying. it no longer has fish for design or the painful lime green he bought the second time—instead, it’s a nice blue that compliments the cat’s eyes.

“and what are you implying is going on between us?”

you nearly spill water all over the floor. “i…” you honestly did not think about that, “—nevermind. don’t make it weird, itoshi!”

you think you heard rin chuckling, but you’re too busy being embarrassed to bother.

(during class, you will find that rin is far from intimidating. in fact, he’s actually a little bitch to deal with. you’re starting to think that he’s more of a pain to deal with than an actual grumpy cat.

“don’t forget to buy food for our son,” rin says after class, in front of students who gossip like there is no tomorrow.

“what?”

“for our son,” rin says, nonplussed at the sight of your haunted expression.

someone who has overheard the conversation pipes up, “you two have a son?”

“we don’t!” you hiss, face burning with embarrassment at the sudden influx of attention from your classmates.

rin frowns. “don’t lie.”

“you two are starting to act like a married couple recently…” another comments offhandedly.

“itoshi walks y/n home, i saw!”

“we have a son,” rin agrees, and you’re starting to think that he’s doing it on purpose.

“stop saying that!”)

thank u art aanobrain for giving me the idea of rin just naming the cat ‘cat’. that idea is so special to me.

anyway. RIN IS SO HARD TO WRITE HELPPPP. this was an excruciating process i genuinely did not know if i did anything right but WHAT’S DONE IS DONE. thx for reading <3

#606:BLLK #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin imagines #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #itoshi rin fluff

[xiggy-stardust]

I can’t please anyone.

None of my friends follow this tumblr so I’m gonna dump my tea in this harbor

“hahaha nobody follows ur dumblr, xig-” SHUT the FUCK UP, ME. I KNOW thats YOU.

okok so over winter break I went shopping for myself because I didn’t get anything for christmas. I was in hot topic (Fuck you, they have some cool shit) and they had a thing where it was “Buy one hoodie and get another for just 10 bucks” so NATURALLY I made the cashier hold my $70 Twenty One Pilots hoodie while I looked for something cheaper to pay in full so I wouldn’t have to pay 70 bucks for a hoodie. I found this really cool Kingdom Hearts jacket for just 40 bucks.

One of my friends, let’s call them Wendy, LOVES KH to DEATH. I was becoming really good friends with her since I’ve only met her this school year (so I’ve known her since about august) and we became best friends really fast. We have more inside jokes than I can count, which I think is what really makes you best friends. Wendy and I have lunch together like every day after school and we sit and talk for hours about everything or sometimes nothing at all. The point is, we’re close.

I also have another friend, let’s call them Nina. Nina and I have been friends for longer than Wendy and I have been friends, since about sophomore year (and it’s senior year now). And Nina and Wendy have been friends since elementary school. So really, I’m the one late to the party. It was very clear very early on this year that Nina was getting jealous about how close Wendy and I have been getting despite us not knowing each other for very long. This reeked of petty high school drama, and me, being the only person in school not caught up in shit, refused to be dragged into something I had no intention of being a part of.

The thing about Nina though, is that she has hella insecurity issues and I’ve already sent her novels over text trying to convince her that she’s not a piece of shit. She thinks everybody hates her and she (very clearly) baits me and Wendy into pitying her. Every time I talk to her, it’s another thing she thinks everybody’s gonna hate her for. Every time. She never takes responsibility and uses those big puppy eyes to make me say that nothing is ever her fault just so she won’t go home and blow her brains out like I have nightmares of her doing. I’ve talked to her so much about the exact same topic matter that some days when she says “whatever I’m probably just annoying you” I kinda wanna say “yeah you are.” But I know for a fact she’ll go home and probably c*t her wr*sts or something. She never makes any efforts to improve herself. She wallows in her sadness and wants everyone to feel bad for her or wallow with her.

This is where Wendy is a breath of fresh air.

me, Nina, and Wendy are all relentlessly sad for mostly the same reasons, but they both have shitty parents whereas mine are. idek. Divorced but living together like they aren’t, it’s weird. I digress. We all deal with our sadness in different ways. I deal with mine by myself in my own time and only let it out in the form of ironic memes and self deprecating humor. You gotta really dig deep to get to me and I have to trust you a lot to let u know what’s really going on. But for me, you don’t get to know unless you ask. That’s how I avoid bringing down the people around me to awkward situations. Wendy acknowledges whats wrong with her and actively talks to me or other trusted friends to fix what’s wrong. She doesn’t want people to feel bad for her, she wants to be better and she doesn’t stew in her sadness because that’s bad for literally everyone.

Nina is the total opposite. We were just in the middle of UIL rehearsals today and WHILE I was highlighting and trying to memorize my lines, Nina grills me about the jacket I got Wendy for christmas when I didn’t get her anything. Wendy actually warned me she would ask so I gave her one of my printed photos earlier this morning. She said she felt left out, so naturally I lied and said I had it from the start, which I totally didn’t, and the only reason I didn’t give it to her before is because she was literally in another state stuck in a blizzard and when she came back, she was cut from the play we were in and we had to travel to perform the day she got back. So today was the only day I’ve actually seen her. So even if I DID get her something, she wouldn’t get it till today anyway. And I STILL got her something. She still tried to guilt trip me about how she felt “left out” and how she’s “forgotten” like I haven’t talked to her about it more times than I care to think about.

The thing is, Wendy is really easy to shop for. She likes KH, Overwatch, and cute anime things, and every store I shop at has a surplus of one of those things. I had a slight suspicion Nina would get jealous so I tried to find something for her,, but she has zero interests I can shop for. She likes Vinyl records, but no store in the nearest 100 miles sells vinyl. It’s not like she likes comic books or video games or stuffed animals or.. anything. I cannot shop for her. The original Idea was to go thrift shopping just the three of us, and I buy Nina anything she wants because I know she likes thrifted items and we’ve been wanting to go thrifting together for months. BUT Nina was out of the state and her parents wouldn’t tell her how long she’d be there so I couldn’t schedule anything when she got back. The blizzard she was stuck in would have fucked it up anyway but still. The idea is, it would have been impossible to get Nina what she wants. But I don’t think she sees that. She only saw that Wendy got a gift from me and she didn’t. Now might be a good time to point out that Wendy didn’t get anything for christmas because her family considers it a big waste of money (which it is, but Wendy has never experienced a single christmas in her life). So yeah naturally I’d want to get her something. Besides the jacket I got her, the only other thing Wendy got for christmas is a KH Funko pop from another friend. Thats it. So excuse me if I wanted to make this christmas a little bit more happy for her.

Besides the point, but just a side note, I didn’t get anything for christmas either. It’s not like I’m hard to shop for either, I like the same things Wendy likes (minus KH maybe) and I like flannels and beanies A LOT. And they’re stupid easy to find, especially in winter. But all I got was a heartfelt letter from another friend who is too sweet to be in this story. I got a letter and none of my other friends got me anything. Not Nina or Wendy. But I never not once complained about it while I saw all my friends give and give and give to other people. That’s why I went shopping for myself, so I couldn’t possibly want anything that anybody was giving except for love (cliche, barf, ik, whatever).

So yea it just kinda rubbed me the wrong way when Nina complained about not getting anything. EXcuse you. I should really be the one complaining, cuz I’m 40 bucks in the hole on a jacket I’ll never wear and Wendy’s only worn like once since I gave it to her. I didn’t get anything either, I actually lost here. Wendy’s got another jacket she’ll never wear, so that only seems like a plus to me and she didn’t get anybody anything, but only cuz she doesn’t have money and her parents won’t let her get a real job. And you haven’t gained or lost anything. If we really wanna be equal, let’s all get gifts for each other. Unless we all come out down and up 2 gifts, somebody’s got a right to complain, and if we look at who’s lost the most, it looks like it’s me. But I’m not going to because I don’t need a gift to validify my friendships. I gave to a friend who it looked like needed it the most out of pure goodwill. I don’t expect anything in return, and I think there’s a thing on the internet about how if you talk about how charitable you are, your charity is null and void, at least the intent of it is. But I don’t think that counts if the only people I’m talking about can’t read this. Maybe it does, but I gain and lose nothing anyway.

If I gave Nina something or Nina gave me something, Wendy wouldn’t care. If Nina gave Wendy something or Wendy gave Nina something, I wouldn’t care. So I really don’t see the big deal that I gave Wendy something. The only difference I see is that Nina is out of the loop, and she’s the only one who cares if she is.

Idk I could go on forever but I’d just regurgitate the point that Nina, you suck for trying to make me feel bad for doing a nice thing. Please. Fix yourself, because nobody else can.

#vent #venting

[itsaudreyhornebitch]

Kastle College Professors AU Part 3

           (A/N: IDK why Tumblr wouldn’t let me indent some paragraphs, so sorry for the wonky formatting. Let me know what you think! Also I am unbeta’d, so sorry for any dumb editing mistakes I missed.)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue 

READ ON AO3 HERE

 The first phone call had come three days after the staff mixer. Frank had assumed it was a wrong number—a squirrely kid calling to thank him for volunteering to be interviewed for some kind of project, and asking for the best time to set up a meeting. He’d politely responded that he had no idea what the kid was talking about, and hung up.

            The second call had come while he was sitting in the office across from Karen. Ostensibly, he was meant to be focusing on his work, though in reality he had spent the better part of his afternoon distracted by the way his officemate kept tying her hair up and letting it down again—a nervous habit she took up whenever she was stuck with her writing. He’d observed Karen gather up all that golden hair in a bun, only to release it to drape down her back again, ten times in a row. Watching her, he’d felt the pull of something deep and warm in his stomach—it was the pale and delicate arch of her neck, the way her top button gaped to reveal the dip of her collarbone every time she lifted her arms, the little sigh that left her lips every time she brought them down again. It was heady stuff.

            When the phone had rung, he’d been almost embarrassingly jostled out of his contemplation of her. His brow had furrowed when he’d heard a different voice giving him the same spiel as the first caller—“thank you for volunteering to sit for an interview with a student from Journalism 101; I am calling to set up a time to meet for a brief get-to-know-you session.” Again—albeit a little more gruffly this time—he’d responded that he had no idea what the hell the kid was talking about, and hung up.

            He should have known, from the way Karen watched the exchange with such interest—her eyes alight with something akin to mischief (which Frank mistook for her standard curiosity). He should have known when she tilted her head, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, and asked, with all the innocence in the world, what the phone call was about. He should have known. But he didn’t, because he was too busy thinking about how damn nice it felt when she looked at him that way—with that intense and penetrating attention.

            No—it didn’t dawn on him until the fifteenth phone call, when he stopped himself from hanging up the second he heard the beginning of the pitch (it was obvious all these callers were reading from the same script). Instead, he’d finally just come out and asked “what the fuck are you going on about?”

            As soon as the freshman on the other end of the line—Randy, apparently—had explained that Frank’s name and number were listed on a spreadsheet of volunteers to be interviewed for a project by beginning journalism students, Frank knew exactly how it had ended up there.

Karen.

He would have laughed out loud, but didn’t want to give Randy the impression that he found any part of their conversation entertaining.

Randy had also explained that the volunteer spreadsheet had been sent out to all of the participating students. And after the second time Frank had hung up on a kid, the students had made it into a little challenge, seeing who could call and actually get him to sit for an interview. They even had a sizable pool going to see how many seconds they could keep him on the line before he hung up. So far, Randy told him, their conversation had everyone else beat by miles.

Frank had sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance at what he was about to do. Cutting off a jittery-sounding Randy, who had been rambling about supporting growing students in their quest for knowledge, Frank agreed to the interview. In some strange way, it was his idea of being noble; of being a good sport. His prank had wasted two hours of Karen’s life, so he’d let hers waste two hours of his.

It had been painful, sitting in an overcrowded coffee shop and leaning forward into the mic to answer stupid, personal questions about his life that nobody wanted to know the answers to. Standard things, like “where were you born?”, “did you always have an interest in physics?”, and “does your family understand what it is you do?” But also some really fucking invasive questions, like “do you regret choosing a job that takes so much time away from being with your family?” and “do you ever worry that you’re wasting all of your potential to do real good in the world by locking yourself up in the Ivory Tower of academia?” The questions like those, which Frank assumed the kid had intended to be clever and incisive, he’d skirted around with vague and unsatisfying answers. He’d downed four cups of coffee just to get through the whole ordeal (which he wouldn’t tell Karen, as he was always riding her about cutting down on her caffeine intake).

Afterwards, he’d written the whole thing off as a shitty, awkward experience the he would never have to think about again, and made a mental note to congratulate Karen on her clever little prank. But early the next morning, he’d received another call from Randy, who was so excited he could barely get a complete word out. The interview, apparently, had gone so well (Frank scoffed at that), that his professor had convinced the school newspaper to print a condensed version in their next edition. Randy just needed Frank’s permission to write it up.

The school newspaper. Frank had felt the familiar shiver of divine inspiration crawl up his spine at Randy’s pronouncement. Karen read every copy of the school paper religiously—because of course she did. Which meant that she would read every word he said…

Frank grinned. “You know, Randy? I think publishing the piece is a great idea. I was just wondering, could I add some last minute comments…?”

Which was how he found himself a week later, a copy of the latest school newspaper folded neatly on his desk, waiting eagerly for Karen to breeze through the doorway.

He barely twitched when she threw the door open with gusto, stomping into the office, annoyance smeared across her face.

“Ugh, I’m going to kill that man, Frank, I swear I am,” she spared a glance in Frank’s direction as she shrugged out of her coat. He noticed, with some amount of pride, that she actually took the time to hang it up on the coat rack (he’d been bothering her enough about using it). As she unwound her scarf from her neck, he took a minute to study her—cheeks reddened (and not in that wonderful, blushing way they looked whenever he caught her staring at him just a hair too long), mouth screwed up in a grimace, hands trembling slightly in what he assumed to be rage. She was glorious.

“Who are we murdering today, Kare?” Frank leaned back in his chair, templing his fingers under his chin as Karen pulled off her gloves with more violence than necessary. (These she threw on the ground under her desk—he’d have to work with her on that later).

“There’s no we, Frank,” Karen dropped her briefcase with a resounding thud. “This is personal. I’m not sharing this kill with anybody.”

“I see. So who are you murdering today, all by yourself, with no help whatsoever?” Frank amended the question with a quirk of the lips.

Karen shot him an irritated look, rolling her eyes.

“Who do you think?” She sunk into her chair with a groan, scrubbing her hands over her face. “Danny Fucking Rand, that’s who.”

“Ha,” Frank snorted a bitter sound, “It’s only 8 in the morning. How could he have done something worthy of the death sentence already?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you what he’s done,” Karen shifted forward, planting both her hands on the desk in front of her, face ablaze. “Apparently it’s not enough that he’s poached my research project out from under me, but now he’s actually trying to steal my fucking graduate students too!” She balled her hands into fists, pressing them into the dark-finished wood beneath them. “Trish emailed me this morning that he’d approached her about joining his research team. He’s willing to offer her a $5,500 stipend per semester for her help.”

Frank jerked in surprise. He knew Trish—had been introduced to her a few times. She was a former radio show host who’d recently returned to school to pursue her PhD. in journalism. Karen had taken her under her wing almost immediately, acting as her academic adviser.

“Trish said no, right?” Frank didn’t know Trish all that well, but he knew Karen. And she tended to inspire all kinds of loyalty in people.

“Well of course she said no,” Karen released a large breath of air, making a conscious effort to de-tense her shoulders. “But he shouldn’t have even asked her in the first place. He’s just doing it to get a fucking rise out of me.”

“Well, I hate to point it out,” Frank tilted his head conciliatorily, “but it seems like he’s succeeded.”

“Ugh,” Karen let her head fall to the desk with a gentle whack. “I know,” she grumbled, and Frank had to strain to hear her speaking with her face pressed against wood. “That’s the worst part, Frank. I keep playing right into his hand. Always will—because I’m an emotional creature. An easily-riled-up, reactive, emotional creature.” She shook her head, and her forehead made a little squeaky noise as it dragged across the polished wood of the desk.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I wouldn’t have you any other way,” the words were out of his mouth before he could stop to think. And he would have felt embarrassed—would have tried to take them back or amend them—but the soft, warm little smile on Karen’s face when she lifted her head in response was pretty damn great. So maybe it had been the right thing to say.

“You know, Frank,” she was looking at him with something gentle behind her eyes, “that actually does make me feel better.”

“Yeah, well,” Frank cleared his throat, shifting in his seat and reaching for the nearest paper to busy himself, “if you weren’t so easy to rile up, I wouldn’t be able to get my kicks picking on you either.”

“Yeah, yeah, Frank,” Karen waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Try to cover it up all you want, but that was very sweet.” She bit her lip, watching him try to distract her from the way the tips of his ears reddened ever-so-slightly by looking down and futzing with the papers in front of him.

She took the moment to admire him while he was preoccupied—allowing her eyes to drift over the hunter green sweater that fit so snugly around his broad shoulders, darting down to appreciate the way his rolled-up sleeves left his forearms bare.  He was wearing a pair of glasses at the moment—a rare sight, as he only wore them when he couldn’t be bothered with his contacts in the morning—and they only worked to accentuate the handsome lines of his face. She notice that he’d shaved his stubble the night before, leaving his sharp, square jaw clean and smooth. She wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like to ghost her fingers over the edge of that jaw—tilt his head up to kiss those lips.

Karen shook her head, clearing the thought from her mind. She’d long ago come to terms with the fact that she had a crush on Frank, but that didn’t mean she would let it distract her at work. She was a professional, god dammit, and not even a man as stupidly attractive as Frank Castle could make her lose her focus.

Crush—it was such a girlish term; made Karen think of hearts doodled all over notebooks and love notes shoved into lockers. But what else was she supposed to call it when she couldn’t stop thinking about him? When she couldn’t stop daydreaming about his wry little smiles, or his laughter (both the booming kind that came out when taken by surprise, and the dark, deep little chuckles that slipped when he found something funny he definitely shouldn’t)? Or when she kept drifting off, imagining what it would be like to feel his body pressed against her own, hard and warm and comforting?

Yep, Karen pursed her lips grimly, that’s a crush alright.

She was right about to turn away to boot up her computer when she noticed the newspaper folded on the corner of Frank’s desk. She frowned. Frank didn’t read the newspaper, and certainly not—she craned forward to read the headline—the school newspaper.

“Uh, Frank…” she trailed off, waiting for him to pop his head up to look at her. She gestured toward the paper with a nod of her head. “I didn’t know you read the school newspaper?”

Oh shit, Frank’s eyes darted toward the edition on his desk. He’d completely forgotten about it. His plan had been to watch her read it in front of him, so that he could savor her reaction to his interview. But after the morning Karen had had, he’d changed his mind. He didn’t want to add on to the ever-increasing pile of things that were ticking her off. No—he’d save it for another time.

“That’s—uh—well I picked it up for—” Frank grabbed the paper to shove it into his desk drawer, but Karen was already up from her chair and walking toward him.

“Did you pick up a copy for me?” She asked, sounding touched. It was the only explanation she could think of—she’d tried to get Frank to read articles written by her students numerous times, but he always complained that university publications were painful to read. So if it wasn’t for him, and he knew she liked to read every copy the day it came out, then it must have been for her. “That’s so nice. I completely forgot the new edition came out today—I was so distracted by the Danny thing.” She reached out to grab the paper from his hands. Reluctantly, Frank let her have it.

She perched herself on the edge of his desk and shook the paper open (Frank’s eyes, completely of their own volition, flitted to the way her skirt rose on her thigh as she sat).

“Oh,” Karen made a surprised little noise, “it says there’s an interview with Dr. Frank Castle on page 5!” She looked over her shoulder at him incredulously, and he groaned inwardly, dropping his chin into the palm of his hand. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be in the newspaper!”

“Yeah, well,” Frank shrugged, a little helplessly. There was no point in fighting it now—she was going to read the interview.

“I can’t believe you! Keeping something like this from me,” she muttered to herself, turning the pages quickly to find his piece. She cleared her throat, making a big show of wiggling on his desk, hunkering down and getting comfortable to read. “The only reason I’m not reading this out loud is because I’m afraid you’d get up and walk out the door if I did.”

“Damn right I would,” Frank mumbled, and contemplated doing so even now.

He watched her face carefully as she read, tracking the movement of her eyes back and forth across the paper. It was quiet for a good minute, Karen’s breathing filling up the space as she read with a little smile on her face.

He could tell the exact moment she got to the part he was anticipating, because her smile began to slowly slip into a frown, edges turning down by degrees. Her eyes narrowed into half slits, her nostrils flaring.

“Frank Fucking Castle,” she muttered darkly under her breath, though Frank (thankfully) sensed a current of amusement buried deep in the timbre of her voice. “You prick.”

There are, however, some drawbacks to working at the university level, Castle confided over the phone.

“You’d think that university professors would make for mature, professional colleagues, wouldn’t you? But sometimes that’s not the case. Not even close.” When asked to expand, Castle chuckled, “Some of the people I work with most closely are as childish as my undergraduates—messy, dramatic, juvenile. Prone to playing ridiculous pranks on one another. Always starting little rivalries. It can be a major headache.”

Castle refused to name the colleagues in question, but left us with the following comment: “They know who they are.”

Karen re-read the paragraph again, just to be sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. When the words were still there—clear as day—she growled. Closing the paper with particular violence, she whipped around and smacked Frank on the head with it.

He barely had time to throw up his arms in defense before she was whacking him again.

“’Messy, dramatic, and juvenile?’” She screeched, but the effect was severely undercut by the laughter in her voice. “I’ll show you ‘messy, dramatic, and juvenile’!” She whacked him again.

“I think you already are, sweetheart,” Frank chuckled, dodging her blows.

“Ooh,” she shook her head, eye twitching. Hopping off the desk, she eased up, shaking her rolled-up paper at him in a manner reminiscent of an old man yelling at kids to get off of his lawn, “I’ll get you back for this.”

Frank couldn’t help it—she looked like a caricature with a hand on her hip, newspaper/weapon in one hand, foot tapping on the floor—he burst out laughing.

“Frank!” Karen threw her hands up in exasperation, “Don’t fucking laugh while I’m trying to threaten you, you big oaf!”

“Can’t help it,” Frank covered up his mouth with a hand in an attempt to stem off the laughter. It didn’t work.

Karen opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the loud beeping of her cellphone. It was the alarm she set to remind herself that she needed to leave STAT if she wanted to make it to class on time.

“Time to go to class, Karen,” Frank got out through his bout of laughter, looking far too delighted for Karen’s liking.

She stood rooted in her spot for a moment, looking back and forth between the phone on her desk and Frank (who was studiously looking away). Clicking her tongue in annoyance, she turned her back to Frank to turn off the alarm and grab her briefcase. No matter how much she wanted to keep laying into him, she couldn’t be late to class.

Whipping around with her bag over her shoulder, she pointed the newspaper at Frank once again.

“This isn’t over, Castle. But I’ve got to be a responsible, mature adult and teach a fucking class.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder imperiously and stomped out of the office. Frank waited until he could no longer hear her heels clicking down the hallway before dissolve back into laughter.

Karen glanced down at her watch as she pulled open the door to the coffee shop. She had exactly 30 minutes between classes to refuel, which wasn’t a whole lot of time, but luckily the line didn’t look too long. She was in desperate need of caffeine—she’d been so upset about the Danny-Trish thing that morning, she had forgotten to stop in at the usual place by her apartment for coffee. And at 3:30 in the afternoon, she was flagging something awful. If she wanted to make it through her next lecture without passing out, she’d need something strong.

As she grabbed her large, black coffee from the barista, she noticed Matt sitting by the window nursing his own cup. His hands were roving back and forth on the table in front of him—reading. It was odd to see Matt back on campus—sitting in the usual coffee shop, drinking his usual drink—after he’d been gone for so long. A little disorienting. Shoving her change into her purse, Karen made her way over.

“Hey, stranger, mind if I sit?” The question was perfunctory, as she was already sitting by the time he responded.

“Karen! Of course,” he moved to shove some of his notes out of the way to make room for her.

“So,” Karen grabbed a handful of sugar packets, ripping them open one-by-one, “haven’t seen you in a while.” Karen was again struck by the strangeness of it all. Before Matt had left, she and Foggy had spent all of their free time with him. Barely a day went by that they hadn’t seen each other—met up for lunch of drinks at Josie’s. And all of the sudden, she was in the position where she hadn’t seen Matt in over a week.

“Yeah, I—” Matt made a vague gesture with his hands. “Uh, been busy. Trying to get all the notes from my sabbatical into some kind of order. Figure out what I’m doing and all that.”

“Ah,” Karen bobbed her head, “thought you might be avoiding me, Murdock.” She intended it as a joke, but from the way Matt’s head jerked forward, she could tell that he hadn’t taken it that way.

“No way, Kare, I’ve really just been—”

“I know, I know,” Karen cut him off, placing a hand on his arm, “Kidding, Matt. I know you’re busy.”

Matt nodded joltingly, and Karen thought about how things had never been this awkward before the whole Elektra-sabbatical incident. Apparently, without Foggy there to act as a buffer, things were a little more than slightly weird between her and Matt.

There was a beat of silence, in which Karen took a loud sip of her coffee. Matt winced slightly.

“Uh, actually, Karen. I was wondering if we could talk about something,” Matt was suddenly wearing his serious face.

“Uh-oh,” Karen’s voice grew wary, “that doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s about Frank Castle,” Matt folded his hands on the table, like he was getting ready to deliver a lecture. The gesture did not bode well for the direction of the conversation.

“Frank?” Karen was confused, “What about Frank?”

“Look, I’ve been asking around about him, and I don’t know if he’s someone you really want to be getting close to, Kare,” Matt shifted in his seat. “He’s got a reputation for being a bit of an asshole. For being rude and unfriendly; to students and colleagues both. Associating yourself with him won’t do you any favors. Plus, didn’t you hear what he said the other night about how much he gets around? Clearly, the man’s a prick.”

There was a tense beat of silence, in which Karen tried to wrap her mind around what Matt had just said. He sat there expectantly, a mild expression on his face, like he hadn’t just spewed the most ridiculous bullshit Karen had ever heard.

“What the fuck, Matt?” Karen hissed lowly, leaning forward. She had to take several steadying breaths to calm herself. Matt could be painfully sanctimonious—she’d always known this about him. And she’d heard him pass judgment on others of her acquaintances in a similar manner before, but there was something about Frank that was just off-limits for Karen. Something that made her hackles rise.

“There are—” Karen’s voice was shaking slightly, and she paused a moment before trying again. “There are so many problems with what you just said, I’m not even sure where to start with you.”

Matt had the gall to look surprised.

“First of all, don’t speak about Frank to me. Don’t ever speak about Frank to me. You don’t know him. And if you don’t know him, then you don’t have the right to speak about him, understand?” Karen didn’t pause for an affirmation. “Secondly, you were the one that said he got around the other night, not him. Frank would never speak about women that way. Which, again, you would know if you actually knew Frank.”

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but Karen cut him off.

“Not done, Matt.” She shook her head. “Thirdly, who do you think you are, telling me who I do and don’t want to associate with, Matthew Murdock? What gives you the right?”

There was a strained pause.

“Now I’m done,” Karen tapped a finger against the Formica table top.

“Karen,” Matt reached forward, looking to grab one of her hands, but she removed them from the table quickly. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I come back from Tibet and hear that you are spending all of your time with some strange man—of course I’m going to look into him.”

“What do you mean of course?” Karen’s anger was beginning to give way to frustration. “Matt, you’re not my father. And you’re not my boyfriend. I don’t need you ‘looking out for me’ or doing background checks on everyone I choose to spend my time with. I’m a grown woman.”

“I know that, Karen,” Matt was aiming for conciliatory, but instead he just sounded patronizing. “But I can’t help it. I care about you.”

“Oh,” Karen scoffed. “You care about me? Just like you cared about me enough to run off with your ex-girlfriend at the first opportunity? Is that how much you care about me, Matty?”

“Is that what you’re really upset about? The Elektra thing?” Matt tilted his head, “Because I can explain if you would let me.”

“No, Matt. I’m not upset about the Elektra thing.” And she really wasn’t. “I couldn’t care less if you ran off with a bevy of women. What upsets me is that you don’t see how hypocritical you’re being right now. You can’t be the kind of guy who cares so much about me that he feels compelled to check up on everyone I spend my time with, and also be the guy who disappears for months with another woman and doesn’t even check-in with a ‘hey, how are you?’”

Matt sighed, shaking his head.

“How did this conversation get so far off the rails?” He muttered darkly.

“I don’t know, Matt, you tell me,” Karen crossed her arms, feeling defensive.

“Kare, I just wanted things to go back to the way they were before,” Matt ran a hand through his hair. “I just wanted it to be you, Foggy, and me. Just like old times. And I come back, and this—this Frank is now your entire social calendar?”

“So you decided to disparage him to me out of jealousy? In the hopes that I would—what? That I would terminate my friendship with him because you think he might be a bad guy? Because you want us to all go back to pretending you didn’t leave for months? Act like you didn’t wait until you’d been in Tibet for 3 months before even dropping Foggy and me a line letting us know where you were?” Karen’s head was starting to hurt.

“I don’t know, Karen. I don’t know what I wanted,” Matt sighed. “Not this.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want this either.” Karen glanced at her watch. “And we’re out of time.”

Matt didn’t even try to stop her as she gathered all of her things. He just sat there, hands in his lap, feeling foolish.

“Bye, Matt,” she tossed over her shoulder as she walked away.

 Later that evening, as Frank sat in the office answering an endless stream of emails, he smiled when he saw a text from Karen come through.

Just because I’ve been teaching class all day doesn’t mean I didn’t carve out some time to plot my revenge, Castle.

He’d snorted and typed back a response.

Well your last attempt at revenge ended up working out for me quite well, so do your worst.

Scrubbing a hand over his face and adjusting the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, Frank stared across the dimly-lit office to Karen’s empty desk. It was strange to think how, a little over two months ago, sitting in the office alone had been the norm for Frank. He had actually enjoyed it—the respite from the masses of students complaining about how he didn’t curve the test, and from the incessant pressure from the dean to publish more, and faster. His office had been his sanctuary—where he could think, uninterrupted. Alone.

But now, he just felt lonely. Without Karen clacking away at her keyboard, humming music under her breath (she’d been on a ridiculous R. Kelly streak lately), or pulling him into long and winding conversations, the space felt empty. Like it was waiting for something—suspended in time, waiting for Karen to return. And Frank felt like he was, too.

It was strange, the extent to which Karen had burrowed herself into his life. Or maybe not so strange. Frank did the math in his head quickly: they’d been working together for two and a half months, so about 50 days (not including weekends, and they spent an average of 5 hours in the office together per day (early mornings and late nights included). So, over the course of their friendship, they’d spent about 250 hours together, in a confined space, talking.

That was a lot of time. More than Frank would have guessed.

But time always tended to fly by when he was with Karen. She had a way about her that set him at ease; there was never an awkward moment of silence when she was around.

After all their time together, Frank could certainly see what it was that made Karen such a fantastic reporter. She was honest and genuine—interested in everything. Her curiosity was boundless; she could listen to him go on, ad infinitum, about his research, and though she didn’t understand everything he was saying, she made an attempt. If someone else was excited about their work, well then Karen could get excited about their excitement.

And she was so incredibly non-judgmental. He’d heard her tell her students, multiple times, “the things I don’t know, and don’t understand, far outweigh the things I do.” How—Karen always seemed to be asking—could she pass judgement on someone else when she, herself, was just a blind creature grappling for answers? He’d seen her practice empathy in the most incredible ways. Once, when a class she taught was studying the coverage of one of the most famous murder trials of the century—a war vet convicted of over 30 homicides—she’d convinced them to stow away their initial biases and see him as a human being. Students had been in the office for days discussing that trial, with Karen gently reminding them, every so often, that they should always seek to understand before reaching for fear and hate.

But above all, Karen was vulnerable. She was open and generous with her own life. She shared of herself so freely—laughed with abandon, cried without shame, felt everything down to her core. It was beautiful. It was inspiring. It made Frank feel less like vulnerability were something to be ashamed of, and instead something borne out of the kind of strength he could never fathom.

Karen was a million flawed, beautiful, precious things. And how could you not want to get close to that? How could you not want to huddle closer, sharing in that kind of light?

So when Karen asked him a question—when she reached out toward him—he was always powerless to deny her. Which is how she’d turned the notoriously-laconic Frank Castle into the kind of guy who felt lonely sitting in his office without her.

He glanced at the clock—6 PM. Normally by this time Karen would have made it back to the office for a few extra hours of work before heading home. They would have done the usual—banter back and forth about nothing in particular, or else complain about deadlines and grading, or maybe share something ridiculous or strange one of their students had said in class—then they would have said goodnight. But the sun was slowly sinking and she was nowhere to be seen.

            Frank stretched, shuffling through the papers on his desk listlessly. He was contemplating calling it a night when his phone started to ring. It was Karen’s ringtone—“You Don’t Own Me” by Lesley Gore (the perfect song for a woman like Karen).

            “Page,” he said, by way of greeting.

            “Uh, hey Frank,” there was something tight in Karen’s voice as she spoke. Something that sounded an awful lot like pain. Frank sat up straighter in his seat, on alert. “You still at the office?”

            “Yeah—yes. Karen, are you okay? You sound kind of—”

            “Actually,” Karen cut him off. He heard some kind of movement, followed by choking noise. Then a “fuck” muttered quietly under her breath. “I was walking back from class and I think I sprained my ankle. Stupid fucking heels on the stupid fucking cobblestones. Why the fuck do we still have cobblestones?”

            “Karen, where are you? Can you walk?” Frank was out of his seat already, shrugging on his coat and reaching for his keys.

            “I’m on the corner between the deli and the co-op. I can kind of hobble, but there’s no way I can make it home on this foot.” She made a soft grunt of pain, and Frank was out the door.

            “Okay. Stay where you are. I’m coming in the car.”

            She was leaning against the wall of the deli, a black shoe with the heel dangling off in one hand, when Frank pulled up to the curb.

            She sighed in relief as he hopped out the car and jogged over to her.

            “Shit, Karen. That doesn’t look good.” As he got closer, Frank could already see the swelling begin to turn slightly purple.

            “And I had a gig ankle modelling tonight. Just my luck,” Karen said through gritted teeth as Frank sunk to his knees at her feet and took the foot in hand.

            She tried to cover up her sharp intake of breath as his fingers gently probed at her ankle. Staring down at his head, she concentrated on the way his hair was growing long enough that you could just see it begin to curl, and ignored the throbbing of her ankle.

            “Hmmm,” Frank pronounced after a moment, standing up, “Looks like it’s not fractured or broken. Just a bad sprain.”

“Jesus. Haven’t sprained an ankle since the summer my mom enrolled me in overnight cheer camp and I got kicked out for sneaking in candy.” Karen tucked her broken shoe into her bag, pushing herself off of the wall.

“You’ll have to tell me that story later.” Frank caught Karen as she listed forward, reaching out to slip one arm under her shoulder, pulling her close to the side of his body. “But for now let’s get you in the car, huh?”

            “Thanks, Frank,” Karen panted out, hobbling forward. Despite the circumstances, Karen couldn’t help but appreciate the situation. She’d never really touched Frank like this before, with so much of her body. Leaning against him, she let the heat of him sink into her side—let herself melt ever-so-slightly into the hard planes of his chest. His hand, which had steadied itself on her hip, gripped her tightly, and she knew she’d be feeling the burning impression of his palm on her skin for days.

            “Here we go,” Frank shifted, helping her climb into the car before jogging back around to his side. Karen buckled herself in, taking a steadying breath before Frank reappeared.

            “Home?” Frank asked, and Karen nodded. Fortunately, Frank had picked her up for various work functions at her apartment before, so he didn’t require directions. She only lived about a ten minute walk from campus.

            As he pulled away from the curb, he shot a sidelong glance at Karen. Her face, flashing in and out of the beams of streetlights as they passed underneath, was contorted.

            “You know, this is exactly why I don’t wear heels to work anymore,” Frank quipped. Karen barked out a surprised laugh, which sounded quite a bit more like a snort.

            “Ooh,” she grabbed the handle on the side of the car in a tight grip, “Don’t make me laugh when I’m in pain, Castle.”

            “Sorry,” Frank said, but he didn’t sound it.

            “Just so you know, this act of kindness doesn’t make up for the whole interview debacle,” Karen shot Frank a dark look as she shifted in her seat.

            “Obviously,” Frank conceded with a nod of his head. “I’d need to save you from a burning building to make up for that.”

            “Two burning buildings,” Karen shot back.

            “You know, nobody who reads that paper is going to know I was talking about you,” Frank pointed out, taking an extra-cautious right turn so as not to jostle Karen’s ankle.

            “But I’ll know, Frank. And I have my pride.”

            “More than your fair share of it, I’d say.”

            “Hey, buck-o. You’re on real thin ice,” Karen jabbed Frank’s arm, which was resting on the gearshift between them. “I’ve got the absolutely perfect amount of pride.”

            “It’s just like someone with too much pride to think they have the prefect amount of pride,” Frank shook his head sadly.

            Karen almost replied with something snotty, but realized that Frank kind of had a point.

            “Whatever,” she grumbled, and Frank shot her a confused look.

            “You must really be in pain if you don’t have a snarky comeback for that,” he sounded more than a touch concerned.

            “Give me a minute, and I’ll come up with something,” Karen said through a grimace.

            “Okay.”

            The car grew quiet, and Karen focused on breathing through the aching pain. She was by no means a whimp when it came to pain, but she’d already been on her feet all day—in heels no less—so the sprain was just the cherry on top of that. Plus, the whole confrontation with Matt was still weighing on her. And though that fell more in the category of psychological pain than physical pain, Karen still figured that pain was pain. A few more beats of silenced passed, then Frank spoke up.

            “It’s been a minute, Kare.”

            Karen made an annoyed little grunt, then opened her mouth to speak, but Frank was already rolling to a stop in front of her building. Shifting the car into park, he turned to her.

            “Wait here.”

            Karen had unbuckled her seatbelt and swung her briefcase over her shoulder by the time Frank made it around to her side.

            “You know, you don’t have to walk me all the way up,” Karen said, as Frank helped her down from the car. “The staircase has a perfectly-functioning railing for me to hold onto. I can make it myself.”

            Frank shot her a disbelieving look.

            “Don’t be ridiculous,” was all he said, wrapping his arm around her.

            Together, they hobbled up the stairs of the complex, and Frank waited patiently while Karen punched in the code to the outer door.

            As they made their way to the elevator, it became increasingly obvious to Karen that Frank didn’t plan on leaving until she was perfectly settled in her apartment. In a slight panic, she began to scan her memory—trying to recall what kind of state her apartment was in. She couldn’t for the life of her remember how recently she’d tidied up, and if the clean laundry she’d taken out of the dryer last night was still on the couch in the living room.

            Too late to do anything about it now, she thought, as they approached her door. Frank stood patiently as Karen fumbled to find her keys.

            It was with great relief, as Karen threw open the door, that she took in a relatively clean apartment.

            Frank, who had never actually been up to Karen’s place before, took it all in with great curiosity. As he walked Karen over to the couch, he noticed that—surprisingly—he place was quite tidy. From the way she treated their office, he was expecting piles of dirty dishes and papers scattered everywhere. But the place looked put-together—cared for. The clutter that did fill up the apartment was all rather cozy—books stacked on the coffee table, a basket of yarn and knitting needles next to the couch, eclectic throw pillows piled up everywhere, an afghan draped over a chair at the breakfast table.

            The place was warm. Inviting.

            Depositing Karen on the couch, Frank moved to collect some pillows to prop under her leg.

            “You really don’t have to do that, Frank. I can take it from here,” Karen tried to wave him away as he approached with the afghan tossed over his shoulder.

            “Nope,” was all Frank had to say in response, as he gently covered her with the blanket. “Got any tea?” He asked over his shoulder, as he wandered into her kitchen.

            Karen sighed. There was clearly no room for argument here, so she gave in.

            “Yeah. In the cabinet above the sink,” she sighed. “I like the green tea.”

            Frank nodded, filling up the electric kettle before reaching for the tea packets. Karen watched with interest as he moved around the kitchen gathering mugs and sugar packets. He looked so domestic—suddenly, Karen could picture him as the husband he once was. Making tea for his wife after a long day at work. The thought grew warm in the pit of her stomach.

            “Karen?” Frank’s stern voice broke through her thoughts, and she looked up to see him leaning down with his head in the fridge.

            “Hmm?” Karen hummed in response.

            “Why do you only have—” he paused, sticking his head further into the fridge. “A jar of pickles, some yogurt, and a case of beer in here?” His head popped up over the door to shoot her a bemused look.

            “Why are you snooping around in my fridge?” Karen crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

            “Because I want to make sure you won’t starve tonight while you’re recovering on the couch,” Frank began opening and closing a series of drawers in her kitchen, clearly searching for something in particular. Karen watched his face light up in triumph when he found where she stored her takeout menus. “I’m going to order pizza. What do you want?”

            Karen would have made a comment about how he was being particularly pushy this evening, but she was feeling quite hungry herself—and thankful for the company. She was never a good patient, and secretly adored the attention when she was hurt. Sliding down further on the couch, she yawned.

            “Get the supreme. With everything on it.”

            “Girl after my own heart,” Frank smiled at her as he dialed the number. While he ordered, he snooped around until he found Ziploc bags, then began filling one with ice from the freezer.

            He approached with the make-shift ice-pack wrapped in towel, hanging up the phone as he handed it to her. She gingerly placed it on her swollen ankle, hissing at the contact. Frank frowned, sitting down at the far end of the couch, careful to avoid her foot.

            “Pizza will be here in about half an hour,” he peered down at her ankle, inspecting the increased swelling.

            “Does that mean you’re staying for dinner, then?” Karen reached for the end table behind her, grabbing a bottle of pain meds she kept on hand for her migraines.

            “If that’s alright with you,” Frank shrugged.

            “Don’t you have other things to do? I don’t want to keep you from anything,” Karen said, before dry swallowing a couple of pills.

            “Nope,” Frank shook his head. “Kids are with Maria tonight, and my weekly cult meeting isn’t until tomorrow. Why, want me out of your hair?” He suddenly felt a little self-conscious—a little presumptuous—sitting there on Karen’s couch like he owned the place. He was so used to their dynamic at the office, comfortable and easy, that he didn’t stop to think it might be different with him in her home. In her territory. For a quick moment, he became strangely aware of his own body—how it moved throughout her space, bulky and graceless.

            Seeing the look of uncertainty flit across Frank’s face, Karen was quick to speak.

            “No, no. Just didn’t want to inconvenience you will my clumsiness.” She gestured at her injured foot.

            Frank shot her an unreadable look, frowning.

            “You’re not an inconvenience.”

            The electric kettle dinged, and Frank popped up to finishing making the tea.

            On the couch, Karen was the one who was beginning to grow a tad self-conscious. She and Frank had spent an abundant amount of time together, it was true—but never like this. Never in so intimate a setting. There was something so different about having Frank wander around her kitchen, among all of her things. Something that made her brain go a little fuzzy as she watched him stirring sugar into her mug (one packet, just like she liked it)—made her insides clench in interesting and confusing ways.

            He padded back to the couch to hand her the mug, and she noticed that he’d shed his shoes at some point. There was something endearing in the fact that he wore argyle socks.

            Frank noticed the direction of her gaze, and wiggled his toes

            Karen chuckled, taking the mug with a ‘thank you.’ Blowing the steam from her tea, she noted Frank’s line of sight drift to the wall next to the bookcase, where all of her most impressive articles hung side-by-side in matching frames.

            “Wow,” Frank whispered, as he walked closer to inspect. There was the article she’d written about child soldiers in Yemen, the one about illegal gender-assignment surgery and the rights of Intersex children, and even the piece she’d published about the man in South Korea who’d fathered over a hundred children through anonymous sperm donation. “These all yours?” Frank asked, even though he could clearly see her name written in the byline.

            “Yep,” Karen popped her ‘p,’ studying the broad expanse of Frank’s back as he leaned closer to skim through one of the articles.

            “These are amazing.” His voice was soft.

            “They were all gifts from my brother, Kevin,” Karen sunk further into the couch, feeling the pain meds starting to take effect and dull the throbbing of her ankle. “Every year, he used to send me one on my birthday. Said the greatest gift he could give me was reminding me of my own accomplishments.”

            Frank hummed. “So he’s the one responsible for your inflated sense of pride?”

            Karen snorted a laugh. “Was,” she corrected, “He passed away last year. But I think he’d be happy to take the blame.”

            “I’m sorry,” Frank shot Karen a concerned look, brow furrowed. “About your brother.”

            “’S alright,” Karen shrugged. “You didn’t know. And he had been sick for a while—cystic fibrosis. We had been prepared for a long time when it happened.”

            “Doesn’t make it any easier, does it?” Frank turned back to the articles,

            “No, it doesn’t.” Karen shook her head.

            There was a beat of silence, and Karen took a sip of her tea, wincing at the loud slurping noise it caused. Frank glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow raised.

            “Why’d you quit?” He asked, gesturing at her wall of accomplishments. She’d never really mentioned her change in career, and he never asked. But it seemed like the appropriate time. “This stuff is remarkable—what you got to see, the places you got to go.”

            Karen threw her arm over the back of the couch, cupping her jaw in her hand and scanning her own articles.

            “Well…I guess I didn’t want it to change me, y’know? Didn’t want the job making me someone I wasn’t. And I could kind of see that it was,” she looked thoughtful.

Frank stared at her in silence, waiting for her to expound.

Karen pulled her mug to her chest, letting the heat of it warm her through her shirt.

“I mean, I became a journalist because I wanted to humanize. I wanted to connect. To talk to people who were so vitally different from myself; to understand ways of life fundamentally unlike my own. To just…I don’t know. Write articles that made people understand that everywhere—through everything—there’s this common thread of humanity that unites us all.” Karen took a sip of her tea, her face drawn in thought.

            “And it wasn’t what you hoped it would be?” Frank prompted.

            “No—yes—I mean, in some ways,” Karen shook her head. “At the beginning, it was everything. The travelling, the learning, meeting people living lives I could never image. You know, just getting to touch the whole worlds that exist inside other people. Soaking in the culture,” Karen smiled wistfully. “I saw some…amazing things,” her voice took on a breathy, dreamy quality. “I saw a Chinese mother reunited with her son, 30 years after he’d been adopted and taken to the US. And that moment of joy when they first embraced each other—that moment of reconnection—of love made tangible. A broken chain being remade. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. As long as I live, Frank.”

            Frank moved away from the wall of frames, sitting back down at the end of the couch. Gingerly, he lifted Karen’s ankle and placed it into his lap on top of a throw pillow.

            “But I also saw some—some truly horrible things.” She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking about the article she’d written on female genital mutilation. “I know that it’s important that atrocities have witnesses. That someone has to be there to see the trauma and the horror. To understand it. To make it known. But it’s hard being a witness, you know? Being the one who can’t look away, because it’s your duty to watch.” Frank heard the catch in Karen’s voice. Her eyes looked so far away.

            “And the dark just go too much? Outweighed the light?” His voice was quiet. He threw his arm over the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers barely brushing the ends of Karen’s hair.

            “No—I don’t think that was it,” Karen shook her head. “In the beginning, the beautiful moments were stunning. Took my breath away. Made me feel so fucking human. And the horrible moments—they broke my goddamn heart. Tore me apart. But, in a way, that was good. I was feeling things—I was present,” Karen ran a hand through her hair. “After a few years, though, everything kind of started to numb a bit. Just became…less. The beautiful and the ugly—they just made me feel numb.”

            “It’s hard to see these stories as human when your job is to reduce them down to a thousand word article, to be consumed by an audience over breakfast. I think I started looking at people and seeing them as quotes and word limits and bylines. Gets to the point where you hear about the latest national tragedy on the news and you think ‘I better publish a think piece on this before someone else does.’”

            Karen shifted, moving to put her uninjured foot in Frank’s lap as well. He absent-mindedly began to rub his thumb up and down the arch.

            “You know, I once saw an old colleague of mine harass this poor woman outside of a court house, moments after her husband had been sentenced to life in prison.” Karen’s voice grew hard, and Frank saw the ripple of anger in her eyes. “Just kept badgering her and pushing her until he got the quote he wanted. This woman was sobbing on his jacket, but he was smiling because—fuck it—he got a great quote out of her.” Karen lifted a hand to her mouth, distractedly biting at her thumbnail.

            Frank was silent for a moment, as his thumb continued to stroke her foot. He tried to envision it in his mind—to imagine a Karen who was numb and callous to the world around her. Who could look at suffering and feel nothing. And he found that he couldn’t do it—the Karen he knew had a direct line to the beating heart of her humanity.

            “So you left because you didn’t like being numb?” Frank’s deep, rumbling voice drew Karen’s eyes up to his own. He was looking at her with a kind of tenderness that made her feel weak.

            “Uh,” she cleared her throat, “yeah. Yes.”

            “Was it hard? Leaving it all behind?”

            “No. I’ve never had a hard time making the decision that’s best for my mental health. You have to be kind to yourself above all—and this was the decision that was kind to Karen,” she smiled weakly. “The only difficult part was dealing with all the rumors. The gossip.”

            “Rumors?” Frank tiled his head.

            “Oh, you know,” Karen shrugged. “That I’d quit because I couldn’t handle the pressure, that I couldn’t cut in a male-dominated business, that I was too weak and emotional to be a good journalist.”

            “Bullshit.”

            Karen was a little surprised at how forceful Frank’s voice sounded, and her eyes shot to him with curiosity.

            “You’re the strongest person I know, Page. And the very fact that you were able to leave when you needed to leave proves it.” Frank’s stare was intense, and Karen felt the well of affection for him in her chest damn-near overflow. She bit her bottom lip to keep helpless tears from welling up in her eyes.

            “Thanks, Frank,” she whispered.

            He was about to open his mouth to speak, but the buzzer rang. Karen cleared her throat, and Frank moved to stand up.

            “Pizza guy,” he said, removing her feet from his lap. Standing up, Frank paused for a moment, his back to Karen. She watched his shoulders move as he took a deep breath.

            “You know, Karen,” he said, turning slightly to look at her over his shoulder, “I’m really glad you ended up here. However you got here—I’m glad you did.”

            Karen didn’t have a chance to respond before Frank was out the door.

            Frank ended up staying until around midnight, at which point Karen passed out on the couch, unable to fight her exhaustion any longer. They’d talked almost the entire night away, over pizza and tea (Karen would have offered the beer in the fridge, but knew that Frank wouldn’t drink as long as she couldn’t). The topics of conversation were considerably lighter than their before-dinner chat.

Frank told stories about his kids, Frankie Jr. and Lisa. How Frankie Jr. was learning to skateboard, which mostly seemed to involve wrapping himself up in various layers of padding and standing on the skateboard with his arms spread, looking like a terrified, baby deer learning to walk. Or about how Lisa was trying out for her school baseball team—they didn’t offer softball—and how she’d petitioned the school using Title IX for the right. Frank had been spending most weekends at the park with her, teaching her to throw. Karen noticed, with some interest, that he didn’t really talk about Maria, despite the fact that she knew there was no bad blood between the two of them. (Frank would later admit that David had told him never to talk about his ex-wife with a girl he liked).

            He talked about his friends, Curtis and David. Karen had laughed until her stomach hurt when he relayed the fact that David’s wife, Sarah, had actually been on a date at Coney Island with Frank, when he’d introduced her to David. She’d dumped Frank mid-date to go off somewhere with the other man. Frank had been upset, until he’d seen how incredibly besotted the two were.

            Frank did little things throughout the evening that set Karen’s heart to thundering wildly in her chest. He’d brushed a stray strand of hair off of her face at one point, tucking it behind her ear; he’d gently squeezed her calf when she’d told him about the way she and Kevin used to get their father to film homemade James Bond movies with them (in which Kevin was James Bond and Karen was Q—not Moneypenny); he’d even wiped a dab of pizza sauce off of her lip with his thumb.

            As Karen had watched Frank do an impression of his mother, complete with the high-pitched voice and all, a strange—though not entirely unwelcome—truth dawned on her.

            She didn’t just have a crush on Frank Castle. No. Nothing that simple.

            She was fucking in love with Frank Castle.

            If someone had asked Karen to describe exactly what had shifted in her relationship with Frank after the night of the sprained ankle, she wasn’t entirely sure she could pinpoint it. All she knew was that something had shifted.

            There was a new kind of comfort between the two of them. A cozy sort of warmth that seemed to grow whenever they were in the same room.

            (Trish, who had popped in one evening to get Karen’s advice on her dissertation proposal, described it to her buddy Jessica as a sense of gravity between them. The way that Karen could ask Frank to close the blinds with merely a tilt of her head; the way that she seemed to know that Frank was hungry before he even spoke—reaching into her desk drawer for a protein bar and tossing it his way. Like they were doing a choreographed dance. She’d sighed dreamily, ignoring Jessica’s rolled eyes, going on about romantic tension and undisclosed desires).

            Both Frank’s and Karen’s students had picked up on it, too. These days, it seemed that any time they saw Dr. Page walking (hobbling on crutches) around campus, Dr. Castle wasn’t far behind. Her senior seminar class, unbeknownst to her, almost had a collective meltdown the day that Karen walked into class one day wearing what was clearly one of Dr. Castle’s sweaters with the sleeves rolled up. (She’d spilled coffee down her white silk shirt, effectively making it see-through, and didn’t have time to go home and change before class. Frank, who always had an extra dress shirt in his desk drawer, had offered her his sweater).

            Karen, with her newfound knowledge that she Capital L loved Frank Castle, had decided to keep that little tidbit of information to herself. She wasn’t ready to let all those soft, confusing thoughts that lived inside of her, in the box marked “Frank Castle,” out into the real world just yet.

            So instead, she reminded him constantly of her plans to get back at him for his interview stunt. Because, apparently, like an elementary-aged boy, her idea of letting someone know you liked them involved low-key bullying.

            She’d dropped hints about having contacts in the psychology department who could get their hands on lab mice, but Frank had just grunted a laugh and replied, “You’d be more scared of the mice than I would, sweetheart.”

            She’d also been toying around with the idea of doing something to his car—maybe getting it towed or having some of her students help her fill it with packing peanuts. But it seemed sacrilegious to deface his car when it had saved her so much pain the other night when she’d sprained her ankle. The car didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

            Limping back to the office from her final class of the day—two weeks after the incident, and Karen had just gone off her crutches—Karen had an epiphany. She knew exactly what she’d do to get Frank back—and it would bug the piss out of her hyper-organized office mate. It would take a lot of time, and a lot of man power, but she was sure she could get Foggy to help her out (she still wasn’t on speaking terms with Matt after their coffee house showdown, or she would have recruited him too).

            Walking into the Physics building, Karen contemplated the logistics of completely flipping their two sides of the room. They’d have to move the desks, the bookshelves…have the move all Frank’s degrees to her wall, and move her paintings to take their place. It would be a full evening’s work, so she’d have to wait until next Thursday, when Frank left the office early to pick Lisa up from baseball practice. Then they’d have all night to do the swap.

            A devious smile worked its way to Karen’s face as she hobbled down the hallway to their office. She was just about to open the door, when she heard some odd noises from inside. It sounded like yipping, as strange and out-of-place as it may have been. Like little puppies barking. For a moment, Karen wondered if Frank had brought a puppy to work. But no—he would have told her if he had.

            Pushing the door open, Karen saw Frank’s head shoot up, eyes wide, as he immediately clicked a button on his computer, making the noises stop.

            “Frank,” Karen asked, drawing out his name as she limped her way over to his desk. “What were you watching?”

            “I was—” Frank thought about lying, covering up the fact that he was watching a live puppy feed from the local pit bull shelter when he should have been working, but gave up on it. Karen was a journalist—she’d get it out of him eventually. With a sigh, he turned his screen around to Karen could see. “Just, puppies.” He said, shrugging.

            “Oh my God,” Karen whispered, watching the live feed as a pile of little pit bulls crawled all over each other. She looked from the computer screen to Frank—who was sporting a rather sheepish look—and felt her heart squeeze in her chest.

            Fuck the prank, she thought. I’ve got to find a way to tell this ridiculous man that I’m in love with him.

#kastle #kastle au #frank castle #karen page #the punisher

[chatchalita]

My (almost half) Kyushu Trip

This trip is the most unprepared trip and the trip that “unlike me”

I like to spend more than 1 day in certain place, just to see the city, relax, and sightseeing at my own pace rather than move around every day.

This probably text-heavy rather than pictures heavy due to my laptop not cooperate and the pictures from my phone didn’t import properly and you probably will see pictures I posted before because of the above reason.

I went to Kyushu via Peach Aviation on Jan 15-20, 2018. A first trip of the year, yay.  On the 15th, I flew from Bangkok to Okinawa. And wow, I shook a little from cold weather in Okinawa.  The plane was so warm.  The flight supposed to arrive at 8am, but my flight was 15 minutes delayed. I was in a rush because I have another flight to catch at 9:50am, but it not a connection flight, which mean I have to check-out and check-in again. The immigration person keep asking me what am I doing here this time, I would like to think that he just doing his job to make sure he gives the right amount of days allowed in Japan rather than thinking that he suspect that I would ran away and overstayed in Japan.  I was really worried that I might miss the flight since most of the time the international flight and domestic flight are in separate building. When I got out, the check-in counter is right in front of my eyes and the gate is close by. Because the airline is low-cost airline. They have their own separate building that every single one of their flight will be here (to be fair, they share with another airlines). So, I made it in time and once I arrived at to Fukuoka, I rushed to Fukuoka City Museum to find that it close on that day. See  So on the first day, I went to Kokura Castle and Moji Port in KitaKyushu and then stay in Kitahama, Beppu.  

*Note I bought JR North Kyushu pass, 8500 yen for 3 days, I think it worth the money since I don’t have to buy ticket every time and I can ride Shinkansen

Second day, Jan 16.

The original plan was to visit Kitsuki castle and walk around the castle town because I came to love Japanese castle and later visit Beppu Hells, but I’m me, I can’t force myself to wake up early for the sake of sightseeing and ended up sleep in.  And I think it was the right choice...if the guide said 2-3 hours in sightseeing, I will took 3-4 hours or even longer than that.  I took a bus to Kannawa to see “Jigoku” or hells, the name was taken from that fact that all the hot springs here are too hot for human to enter and probably hot like hell.

I think I visited the place in different order than most ppl do, it seem like they usually walk for 10 minutes to reach the farthest hell first then go back to the same route to visit the rest.  Let’s just say I do the opposite...

*all the descriptions taken from English sign*

The first hell I visited is called “Shiraike Jigoku or the white pond hell, whose boiling spouting up water turns blue-white colored when falling down upon surface of the water.  There is also a tropical aqurium where a ‘king fish’ of prarucu’ ‘man-eating fish’ of piranha and several other tropical fish have been raised.”

After I got out of this, I was hungry since I have not eat anything yet and it was 11am almost 12pm, and I just walk in the nearest store and order the first food I saw, which happen to be the food of that area

Dangojiru, a ramen made from dango I think and this food is put together with Kyoto’s black ramen in the list of food I will never eat again.  It’s very plain and too much vegetable I guess, I rather eat a weird hint of burnt bitter sweet and super salty black ramen more than this.  Maybe I dislike it due to its plain taste and the lack of meat...

Next stop, “Oniyama Jigoku (Oniyama Hell), the force of the steam is so strong here that about one and a half train cars can be pulled by its pressure, and it creates ideal conditions for breeding crocodiles.”  This place probably a place that I didn’t took a picture of onsen with its name because this place is known for crocodiles, the temperature of the onsen is 99.1 C

And the real hell start here, “Kamado Jigoku (Oven Hell)  This jigoku derives its name from the fact that it used to be used for cooking foods long long ago.  The great red demon standing on an enormous cooking pot is the symbol of this jigoku”  That picture probably more appropriate than this picture, but the tour groups were there, there are a lot of people and they loud.  They also have a shop there for souvenirs and I just wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible.  Hey, I’m an introvert and I like quiet place.

“Umi Jigoku (Sea Hell) so called because this jigoku looks like the sea, which emerged after an explosion of a volcano 1,200 years ago and because the color of the boiling water of the pond is cobalt-blue.”  

Oniishi Bozu Jigoku, it seem like I forgot to take a picture of the sign, but the name came from the fact that the little bubble popping up looking like head of the monk.  This place was so relaxing and nobody there, there is a footbath in here, which they put some kind of citrus in it and it was really nice.  The previous two jigoku also have footbath but there are too many people around.  So these 5 jigoku are the one within walkable distance, the other two is 3km away and riding bus there is the best option

Tatsumaki Jigoku (Geyser), I don’t have a trivia for this because I don’t remember and the sign was cut off otl  

Chinoike Jigoku (Blodd Hell), it named after the redness.

Overall, I think the jigoku are pretty interesting, definitely a tourist trap, but it was fun to take pictures with all of them.  Not a place I would visit again unless I want more of their skin-care product :p

After I finish journey through hells, I decided to go for a sand bath, which I got covered in black sand.  The temperature is too warm, it not like hot like the sand bath in different prefecture that I saw in one of the youtube video, which is kind of disappointment since I expected sauna temperature in a cool weather.  Then I went back to my hotel to relax and go out again to find food; I ate seafood ochazuke and Tamayaki (like takoyaki, but use scallop instead), then I finally went to Family Mart to print out Ogo-tan’s conbeni print.

Asahi Tower Beppu Tower is located near my hotel, so I decide to go up there on my way back, I think I got sold because they said the tower was kind of old or something, but it was not worth it, there’s nothing up there, the night view can be seen anywhere, not unique to Beppu.

Third day,

It’s a day, I actually waking up early (to catch the train back to Hakata)  for the sake of everything yay.  The plan, was Nagasaki...and I was going to get through with this plan until I ride the train and changed my mind.  It was very last minute, I had no plan.  I thought that 3 hours in Nagasaki is not enough and not worth it to ride 4-6 hours of train (two-way) from Hakata.  I have to hurried back to Hakata before Fukuoka City Museum close.  So, I went to Kumamoto Castle, which happened to be under construction due to earthquake, like I said in one of my post before, I knew it was under construction, but I didn’t know it was all the area.  At that point, I was regretting the fact that Fukuoka City Museum closing on Monday ruined my plan, I could have ride a ferry from Kumamoto to Nagasaki and actually enjoy Nagasaki until night time, but I have my sword priority.  So, I went to Tamana to see Doudanuki since I already in Kumamoto.  The museum was really really nice, I enjoyed it a lot despite the fact that I couldn’t read Japanese.  The dedication that I rode taxi there because the bus do not reach that place.  And the station person in Tamana station was so helpful, what a good place.  And then, I rode shinkansen back to Hakata again and finally able to see Hasebe in Fukuoka City Musuem.  See I took better pictures of the swords, like zoom in and such, but I’m too lazy to post it so that post ended up with generic sword pictures.

My hotel is in Tenjin, which has Animate there, something I couldn’t find and ended up spent money in Book-off instead.  The food that day was Mos Burger during lunch (Idk why I craved for Japanese-western food, don’t judge me) and Oyster tempura-don plus karage.

Fourth day, another unplanned day

I flew back to Okinawa and sat at Naha airport for 2 or was it 3 hours because I don’t know what to do.  I was looking at the brochures and tried to come up with a plan for today.  My original plan was to go the south and go to Okinawa world and I just ended up too lazy to go.  In the end, I decided to go to my hotel and walk around that area.  My hotel happen to be within the walkable distance from Animate, I always picked the best location for my hotel eh?  The street that I was walking was Kokusaidori street, which is a shopping street for souvenirs.

Although, it’s unplanned it was great, I enjoyed looking in each shop and eat whatever food I found on my way Animate.

Fifth day, each day’s adventure is getting shorter and shorter

I bought a day tour to Okinawa’s aquarium because I’m too lazy to do my research for the bus.  This day tour is so rush, I didn’t spend enough time in the aquarium, two hours include lunch is not enough.  The taco rice in the aquarium was great though, I can see whale shark while I ate.  The other place include in the tours are Kadena, a place where you can see American’s air force plane, Cape Manza, a place that related to Urashima Taro (If my Japanese is corrected, I mostly sleep through the bus ride) and American Village, a shopping place that the tour let people be in for 50 minutes, I cannot do anything during that period of the time. Sadly, it was raining that day and I’m not feeling very happy about it.

Sixth day, visited 3 world heritage

The last day in Japan,  visited Shirikinaen Garden, Shuri Castle, Tamadun, and Naminoue Shrine - Beach.  Shirikinaen was beautiful, I loves Japanese garden.  Shuri Castle was too large and I was too tired to explore all the area, is I visit Shuri Castle on the first day of my trip, I probably able to finish the stamp rally.  Naminoue beach is the only beach I went although I went to Okinawa,

Overall, I did enjoyed this trip a lot.  There’s a point that I was worn out enough to just want to stay in the hotel and not going anywhere, but it was a fun alone time trip.  In all the prefectures I visited, I probably will visited them again some day because I feel like I didn’t see enough, but it probably won’t be my priority since I rather visit other prefectures and complete my bucket list (visit all prefectures in Japan)

Oita, definitely will visit again for onsen-escape, maybe not Beppu, maybe it would be Yufuin next time.

Kumamoto, in 2019 when Kumamoto Castle is complete, let’s do it since it one of Japanese’s greatest castle...and maybe Mt. Aso...

Fukuoka, if I have a chance, might have a proper sightseeing here in the future

Okinawa, if I go there again, I want to stay near Ocean Expo park or something, it seem there’s a lot of interesting place in there.  Might go there in Spring because Summer is too hot and probably too crowded.

4/8 Kyushu visited, need to clear the rest the next time.

When I read this in the future, I probably regretted this for writing too little haha.  But I’m kind of tired half way through and it ended up the way it is.

#sometimes i pretends that i'm a travel blogger #just chatchalita traveling #chatchalita impulse half kyushu trip hopefully #hopefully it the last time I used that tag

[hooksforeverything]

The print-on-demand fandom 2

If you’re travelling over winter, and you don’t already travel with your things in individual pouches, you could pick up a couple of these. Categorising when you pack stops your cables getting knotted around your scarves and socks, and it means you don’t have to root through your whole case in the train station when you only need two painkillers because the overhead lighting is getting on your last nerve.

Two tiny people walk along a snowy riverbank, backed by a low cabin and outbuilding, a single tree and miles more snow. https://society6.com/product/know-your-roots1877386_carry-all-pouch?curator=hooksforeverything

That room you’ll be staying in when you visit family for the winter holidays: does it have power sockets in the right places? There’s still time to order yourself a two metre charging cable so you can scroll in bed on charge. Also, if your devices are (like mine) old enough that they don’t hold a full day’s charge any more, there’s time to pick up an extra USB battery.

A dark wooden barn stands in a snowy field, which is extremely flat all the way to the snowy horizon. The sky is letting you know it’s definitely going to snow again soon. https://society6.com/product/winter-barn980186_carry-all-pouch?curator=hooksforeverything

Do you get your own bathroom when you’re there for the holidays? If not, consider who will be seeing your conditioners and moisturisers and, idk, eyelash crimpers. Will they do the mature thing and stay silent about them all? If so, well done! they have been raised right! If not,

An illustration of white owls flying in a dense snowy woodland. Owls are great; they’re menacing yet peaceful. Let’s be more like owls. https://society6.com/product/winter-forest937257_carry-all-pouch?curator=hooksforeverything

Snack bars! You’re going to need snack bars for the journey, at least, and you may as well stash a couple extra in case you’re sulking one afternoon and it would be too undignified to emerge for nuts and crackers.

Illustrations of conifer cones, in green ink. Do you know, there’s a shop near me that sells bags of half a dozen pine cones for decor. SELLS them. Quickly, where’s your nearest conifer? Go pick up a cone and congratulate yourself on saving money. https://society6.com/product/winter-cone-pattern-i850173_carry-all-pouch?curator=hooksforeverything

Same pinecones, same designer, in brown ink. https://society6.com/product/winter-cone-pattern-ii_carry-all-pouch?curator=hooksforeverything

The view upwards in a winter woodland; bare branches against a white sky. https://society6.com/product/snow-covered-top-trees-winter-trees-crown_carry-all-pouch?curator=hooksforeverything

I do hope you have a good trip and that everything goes smoothly and everyone is charming and civilised. If it doesn’t or they’re not, deep breaths, congratulate yourself on the rest of your year, message some friends who love you for who you are, and remember you’ll be warm again soon.

#duplicated from my wordpress #hooksforeverything #update #curator #list #recommendations #self care

[reservoirx]

multiplies of 3 for the quiz meme idk im bad at this but ily

Wow that’s a lot of questions thank u sm ❤❤3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.☆I’m at my friend’s house and the only book I have is Preacher: Book One, which is a graphic novel. The 23rd page doesn’t have any text rip.6: How can I win your heart?☆send me memes and don’t get mad at me for talking about Gorillaz and ghosts for hours :’)9: Name the last four beds you were sat on?☆My friend’s bed, her mom’s bed (I was petting their cat), mine, and my brother’s (we were watching vine compilations lol)12: Who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?☆This girl named Bay, who my friend Kyo introduced me to.15: Would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?☆Depends on who I'm with!18: If you had to delete one year of your life completely, which would it be?☆201321: If you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?☆No, because I'm 17 and you have to be 18 to get married rip24: Is there a certain quote you live by?☆"Everyrhing will be alright in the end, and if it's not alright, it's not the end."27: What is your favorite color?☆blue or purple30: Are you superstitious about anything?☆I knock on wood 3x at least twice a day33: Do you think anyone has feelings for you? ☆Probably not rip 💀💀36: Were you single on Valentines Day?☆Yeah my ex and I split like a month earlier 💀39: Has anyone upset you in the last week?☆Yep!!!41&42: Where’s your last bruise located? What is it from?☆My thigh and I have no idea??45: Do you have a favourite pair of shoes?☆Yes! I have a pair of Vans with a floral Hawaiian shirt type of print on them, I adore them lol48: Do you make supper for your family?☆Sometimes51: Do you know anyone who hates shopping?☆Me lol54: What was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?☆Water57: Do you think two people can last forever?☆Sure60: When’s the next time you will give someone a BIG hug?☆When I see my brother when I get home, I haven't seen a lot of him this summer and he misses me :')63: Where will you be 5 hours from now?☆Same place I am now, my friend's house66: Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?☆Yeahhh69: Have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?☆Yep72: What is your ringtone?☆The Rose's Room theme from Steven Universe 75: Why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?☆It was a comp het crush and they were a close friend of mine78: Do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?☆Yeah rip :')81: How many people have you liked in the past three months?☆Like 2.......... heck84: You’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?☆My friendsbc they're the only hot people I yell at (if they're okay with it obvs)87: Who was your last received call from?☆My mom90: Have you ever trusted someone too much?☆showing google results for: my entire life 93: Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?☆Nah96: Have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring?☆Nahhh99: Do you believe in love at first sight?☆Not really

[survey1000]

76. Your life isn’t yours if you constantly care about what others think.

What’s the latest you’ve woken up? How about the earliest? The latest I think was almost noon, and the earliest was a bit after midnight I think.

In general, what has the weather been like? Is this good or bad for you? It’s been pretty muggy lately, which sucks because I work in a coffee shop that doesn’t have a working AC ...

Have you been out for a meal? Where did you go and what did you eat? Not for a bit, but I think the last time was Subway.

Have you been under the influence of alcohol/drugs? Yup.

Have you spent more of your time indoors or outdoors? Indoors.

What’s the most interesting day you’ve had? How about the most boring? Good question, I think the most interesting was my high school graduation, and the most boring would have to be any slow day at work.

What’s the earliest you’ve gone to bed? How about the latest? The earliest I would say was around 7pm and the latest was a bit after 2am.

Have you gone shopping for anything aside from groceries in the past week? Yeah, Thursday I went to the mall and got a few different makeup things, and then I went to Staples to buy more instax film.

Have you discovered any new bands or TV shows that you like? No not lately.

Have you finished a book, or are you currently reading one? I just finished one a few days ago, and I have quite a few on the go still lol.

What’s the most interesting thing that’s happened to you? Not many things really.

Who have you spoken to most on the phone/online/by text? My mom I would think lol.

Do you actually think it’s gross to talk about body functions? If you’re not my friend lol.

Would you rather sleep alone or next to your SO? Well I can really only say alone lol.

Are you trying to forget about something? Always.

Have you ever sent a love letter? Nope.

When you look up at the sky do you ever NOT see a plane or vapor trail? Rarely lol.

Have you dated someone of another race? No, but to be fair I’ve only been in one relationship before.

Do you wear any shoes with holes because you can’t give them up? Not at the moment, but I have done this plenty of times before lol.

When you go out to breakfast, what do you order? Depends on where I go, but something with eggs.

Have you ever had a job that required a uniform? Yeah, that’s where I work now lol.

What are you most envious of? People who can find happiness wherever they go.

Would you rather have coffee, cocoa, tea, or soda? Pop, and I’m not much of a pop drinker either lol.

When you walk into your best friend’s room, what do you smell? Idk, them I guess? Lol.

Have you ever purposely broken something that belonged to a sibling? I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t put it past me though lol.

Do you have any hipster friends? Nope.

Have you ever worked at the same place as your best friend? No.

Do you take days off from shaving when you can get away with it? Always lol.

Has anyone ever baked you cookies? Yeah.

Do you ever wear socks with holes in them? I have, but I throw them out as soon as I realize the hole.

Is there anything hanging on your bathroom walls? I don’t think so.

If your SO agreed, would you want an open relationship? Oh fuck no.

Have you ever slept with three people in the same bed? When? Why? Yes, it was at a sleepover when I was younger, when we could all fit on the same bed haha.

Does your family regularly eat sit down meals together? No, the only time is when we plan a supper for an event, like Christmas, Easter, a birthday, etc.

Have you ever used the change counting machine at a store or mall? I have no idea what that is lol.

How do you dress when you’re not at work Usually in a t-shirt or a tank top, with leggings.

Tell me about the shirt you’re wearing? Its black with the Superman logo on it, and its from the men’s section from Warehouse One lol.

What was the first thing you thought this morning? Fuck... I don’t wanna go to work lol.

Are you wearing shorts? Nope.

Ever had a boy best friend? Yeah when I was little.

Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? If I’m in a relationship with him, then yes.

Do your parents actually knock on your door before entering your room? No lol.

Do you ‘dress to impress’? Sometimes, depending on where I’m going.

Have you ever thought a man over 40 was attractive? Yeah.

Would you rather get cash or a gift card? Depending on what store the gift card is from, if its from the bookstore, then I’d rather have the gift card lol.

Would you prefer to date someone taller, shorter, or the same height as you? Same height or taller.

Can you honestly say you’re okay right now? No.

What time did you get up today? A little bit before 5:30am.

Where does most of your family live? Nova Scotia, Canada.

What can’t you wait for? Tomorrow at 2pm, so I can go to the gym, and not have to worry about work the next day.

Are you ticklish? Some places.

What brand of digital camera do you own? I don’t have one. The only actual camera I have is the Instax mini 9.

Have you ever seen a Broadway show in New York? Nope.

How long is your hair? Maybe an inch and a half past my shoulders.

Do you like facial hair on a guy? If it’s not long, I like scruff better than an actual beard lol.

Have you ever tried the cinnamon challenge? Nope, and never plan to lol.

How long would it take to walk to the nearest McDonald’s? Less than 20 minutes.

Do you get drunk every weekend? No, I wouldn’t be able to afford that lol.

What did you do today? I worked for eight hours, and planned to go to the gym after until I realized I had left my gym sneakers and pants at home ...

Are you listening to music right now? No surprisingly, I have the TV on in the background.

Your last ex died today, how would you feel? I mean I’m not heartless, I would feel upset, but we were only going out for less than a week, and it was five years ago so I’m definitely not close to him.

Do you like maxi dresses? Yeah, I have one but that’s the only one I’ve seen that I like on me.

Have any organic makeup? I don’t think I do.

Do you worry about guys thinking you’re hot? No, I know that they don’t think that way lol.

Are you healthy? Not as healthy as I should be lol.

Do you know anyone that used to be or is homeless? Not that I know of.

Does it always seem like you’re always buying stuff for friends? Not really.

Did you wear sunglasses today? No, its been cloudy all day.

What’s the next movie you’ll watch in theaters? Not sure.

If you straighten your hair, how long does it take? Anywhere between 15 to 25 minutes.

Does it annoy you when people can’t think of their own answers to questions on surveys and use yours? No lol, I don’t pay attention really.

How many people are you talking to online right now? None lol.

Are you currently wearing anything containing polyester? Probably.

Have you ever been to Comic-Con? No, but I would like to.

Do you have a commercial jingle stuck in your head? Nope.

Would you date someone 8 years older than you? He would have to treat me right, and we would both have to care about each other a lot. The oldest that I plan to go for is five years, but you never know.

Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to? Not really. I have guys that I consider friends, but not that close to talk about personal things.

Do you have a friend of the same sex you can talk to? Yeah.

Did you go out or stay in last night? Stayed in.

What does your last received text message say? ‘I’m here at Tim’s now’.

How old is the last person you texted? 37, she’s my Momma lol.

What do you want to get accomplished today/tonight? To get some good sleep.

You’re single, right? Yup lol.

Are you easy to make mad? If I’m in a cranky mood already, yes lol.

Have you ever punched a hole in the wall? Yeah like roughly seven years ago lol.

What are you doing right now? This and watching Forensic Files.

Do you smoke weed everyday? I had only smoked it twice and that was almost six years ago I think.

Are you wearing jeans, shorts, sweatpants, or pajamas? Leggings.

Do you like the dentist? Not really lol.

Do you like the snow? Yeah, as long as its not too much lol.

Where is your phone Beside me.

Would you rather date someone older than you or younger? Same age or older.

When was the last time you were told you were cute? I don’t really remember, maybe a few weeks ago?

Would you ever smile at a stranger? I do it all the time at work. The privileges of working in a coffee shop lol.

Do you button your shirt from the top or the bottom? Top.

Do you make collages often? No, its been a few years since I’ve made one.

How much have you changed in the last year or so? Not that much I don’t think.

Have you ever wished to erase something from your memory? What? A lot of things that I rather not speak of.

Do you keep things that most people would throw away? I don’t think so.

What is your favourite thing to wear when you feel like crap? Comfy clothes.

Do you look forward to going to sleep at night? Usually.

What was the last song you listened to? Nowhere Fast - Eminem.

Do you own an Etch-A-Sketch? I did when I was a kid!

What does your bedspread look like? Leopard print.

What colour is your suitcase? I don’t own one.

Are you any good at tongue twisters? Not really lo.

Do you wrap up warm in the cold weather? Always.

Do you care overly about other people? If I like them lol.

Do you still live with your parents? When are you planning to move out? Yeah, and I’m 20 and single so I can’t really afford to live on my own, and I at least want to be able to drive legally and have a car before I move out.

If you’ve moved out already, what age were you? -

Have you ever been told your aspirations are unrealistic? I don’t think so.

#survey